{"sf1_id":1664333,"sf2_id":"YnLREppe","title":"A Long Way From Home","author":"Oliver_Hart","words":19002,"posted_at":"2020-12-23T16:33:00.000Z","tags":["Green text","Hmofa","Sci-Fi","Time travel","blue heeler","heeler"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1664333-a-long-way-from-home","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/YnLREppe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/ef/74/ef7410e9-d1bd-42d8-ba48-c01b5a7cb0b1","description":"#9 of The /trash/ files\n\nA picture is worth a thousand words, and someone's life.\nAuthor's note: this story is officially \"paused\" while I work on other things. I wanted to migrate my material from pastebin to here and AO3.","content":"\\\u003eYou are Anonymous  \n\\\u003eYou are a bland featured human, a pretentious college-student that's the scourge of every parent's bank account  \n\\\u003eYou'd like to think you're here today on some kind of soul-searching journey, Chris McCandles style (minus the dying)  \n\\\u003eWhat with your camera bag, your meager toiletries, and solitary change of clothes  \n\\\u003eBut really, you're on a bus, coasting out to the middle of fucking nowhere at 60 miles-per-hour (Speed limit is 75), you've got about $36 in cash, your phone is almost out of battery, and the fat lady next to you keeps farting loudly in her sleep  \n\\\u003eAs the barren landscape slides by, endless cornfield after endless cornfield after endless cornfield, you begin to think that your solo photography trip out into the country was a mistake  \n\\\u003eWith no planned route, no idea of what you want to photograph, and with the fading sunlight at your back, you hop off at the next stop, bag and all, the idea of calling your parents and taking a bus back home looming large in your mind  \n\\\u003eThe bus put you right outside a gas station with a small diner attached at the far end, almost like an after-thought  \n\\\u003eSigns hint at a town just a few miles down the road  \n\\\u003eYou walk through the doors and a wall of cool air washes over you  \n\\\u003eFeels good man, another hour on that bus and you would have smothered that fat lady to death with her own retarded 'travel pillow'  \n\\\u003eTired and kind of sore, you shamble weakly towards the diner and plop yourself and your gear down in an empty booth  \n\\\u003eYou shut your eyes for a bit, just listening to the distant country moan of the in-store radio  \n\\\u003eOkay Anonymous, when you open your eyes, you're going to start thinking of the next step. No more un-planned photographic adventures to bumfuck-nowhere  \n\\\u003eSecretly you hope you'll be back in bed at home, but the shameful hope that this is all a really mundane dream only makes you feel less like a 22-year-old and more like a scared little kid  \n\\\u003eYou really don't want to open your eyes. The comforting bliss of darkness is all that's keeping you from crying like a kid  \n\\\u003eWell, here goes nothing  \n\\\u003eOn 3, okay?  \n\\\u003e1  \n\\\u003e2  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003e\"Can I get you some coffee, or a pillow?\"  \n\\\u003eYour eyelids peel open  \n\\\u003eA waitress, a real fucking movie-ass waitress in a blue uniform with a notepad and all is looking impatiently down at you, her canine eyes half-open  \n\\\u003eShe's an older looking Coyote, a little bored, wearing a purple bowtie in her rust-colored fur, like a super-model who had just cat-walked out of Wal-Mart  \n\\\u003eYou blink a few times  \n\\\u003eThought that waitresses only looked like this in movies?  \n\\\u003e\"So, should I come back or...?\"  \n\"No, no, I think I'm ready to order something to drink,\" you stammer, snapping back to reality. \"Can I uhhh... have some coffee?\"  \n\\\u003eShe feigns delight. \"Sure can. Cream, sugar?\"  \n\\\u003eYou shake your head and smile nervously  \n\\\u003e\"Just black is fine.\"  \n\\\u003eShe raises a questioning stare at you, as if to ask if you can 'actually handle black coffee'  \n\\\u003eAfter a few seconds, she swivels on her heels and sashays towards the kitchen  \n\\\u003eYou can't help but watch her go, her tail swishing fluidly over her nicely padded butt, made all the more captivating by her hour-glass frame  \n\\\u003eShe's kind of sexy, in like, a really trashy, milfy kind of way  \n\\\u003eYou're not that kind of photographer, but if she offered, you'd have a hard time saying no  \n\\\u003eAh, speaking of  \n\\\u003eYou haul your camera out onto the table, hoping to at least take some artsy shots of the diner. It'd suck to come all this way and have nothing to show for it  \n\\\u003eYour camera is a cheap one (by camera standards at least), and because you're fairly stingy, you still only have the kit lens for it  \n\\\u003eWhich, on reflection, was probably a bad idea, because you have no idea what conditions you want to shoot in  \n\\\u003eOkay, take a few shots, check the bus schedule on your (almost) dead phone, and head home  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eYou pop your head out over the booth to get a look around for a good subject  \n\\\u003eYour gaze flicks around the cleanly-lit diner, scanning for someone...  \n\\\u003eAnd you come up empty  \n\\\u003eWow, you're really the only person here right now. That's an odd feeling  \n\\\u003e\"You a reporter?\"  \n\\\u003eThe waitress asks in a flat tone as she glares down at you, mug of coffee in hand  \n\\\u003eStartled, you shake your head  \n\"No, no. Just a college student out on a road trip, trying to see what I can see, you know?\"  \n\\\u003eShe says nothing and continues to cast silent judgement down on you  \n\\\u003eWithout a dissatisfied grunt, she sets the coffee down and walks back towards the kitchen  \n\\\u003eYou wonder what that was about? She seemed awfully pissed off about the camera thing  \n\\\u003eYou quietly take a sip of coffee, but nearly spray it across the table when the painfully sweet taste of way too much cream and sugar passes your lips  \n\\\u003eShe put so much in this mug that it's practically white  \n\\\u003eYou're beginning to get the feeling that she doesn't like you a whole lot  \n\\\u003eYou snap a quick photo of her sweet, sweet backside as she saunters back over to the kitchen  \n\\\u003eThe viewfinder renders in glorious HD the pear-shape of her body, dress tight against her frumpy butt, the rust-colored tail protruding just above the slope of her ass  \n\\\u003eIt feels like you got some semblance of justice, and you still try drinking the shitty cream coffee just because you paid for it  \n\\\u003eFuck you, you sexy milfy coyote lady. Fuck you  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eAfter that you spend some time flicking through your photos  \n\\\u003eBored with that, You start taking shots of everything, from artful compositions of the booth you're in, to shitty blog shots of the \"coffee\" sitting half-consumed on your table  \n\\\u003eYou're so busy spitefully and boldly taking photos of everything, you don't notice how much time slips away from you  \n\\\u003eOr that you're no longer alone  \n\\\u003e\"You a reporter from the city?\" A voice from behind you causes you to nearly drop your camera (good thing you were wearing the neck strap)  \n\\\u003eA blue heeler is peeking over the top of the booth behind you, his light blue eyes curiously watching as you find the words to answer  \n\\\u003eYou have none, but that's okay, this kid is leading the conversation like a child steering a racecar  \n\\\u003e\"Can I see your camera?\" He asks, extending a thin arm over the booth  \n\\\u003eWell gee, that's really fucking forward  \n\"Ummmm, no...\" you offer in return. \"I'm just taking some photos of some stuff before I head back home.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Oh, where you from?\" His eyes light up, and a friendly smile widens across his face. \"You from the city or something? You out here to write a story about meth?\"  \n\\\u003eWhat the hell is up with this kid?  \n\\\u003eYou tell him that you're just a college student from the city, out on a photo project  \n\\\u003eAnd you leave out the part about getting cold feet and wanting to go home  \n\\\u003eWhen you're finished with the explanation, the kid, who tells you his name is Jesse, practically leaps into the chair opposite of you  \n\\\u003eHe's... Well, a little too friendly, and it makes you uncomfortable  \n\\\u003eHe might be trying to rob you, or he might be retarded  \n\\\u003eHeelers: friendly, intelligent, high energy, usually find good work out in agriculture due to their heritage and breeding standards  \n\\\u003eThis guy must not have gotten the intelligence genes his breed is known for  \n\\\u003eHe's wearing a heavy flannel buttoned all the way up, some loose and dirty jeans, a pair of work shoes, and he smells like he's been rolling around the fields for a few days  \n\\\u003eHe leans eagerly across the table, extending the length of his thin body in order to peek at what you're do-ing, and if it weren't for the table separating you two, you're sure he'd be touching you by now  \n\\\u003eYou're assaulted by his seemingly innocuous questions of 'what's this, how's that work, you ever taken photos for magazines before?' And you do your best to answer all of them, leaving you practically out of breath by the time the waitress comes back over  \n\\\u003eThis guy is really reminding you of the fact that you're an introvert  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eThe waitress returns, bearing an appraising scowl, especially when she finds you've suddenly gained a meal partner  \n\\\u003e\"Jesse, you bothering my customers again?\" She asks with a cold tone  \n\\\u003eThe Heeler cocks his head, seemingly confused by the question  \n\\\u003e\"Naw Lee Anne, my friend here...\" he looks at you, suddenly remembering he forgot to ask you your name  \n\"Anon,\" you answer, with a tone that says 'I want to die'  \n\\\u003eJesse completely ignores your verbalized plea for death  \n\\\u003eYep, definitely retarded  \n\\\u003e\"My friend Anon and I were just catching up over dinner.\"  \n\\\u003eWait, hold the fuck up, you didn't say anything about dinner  \n\\\u003eLee Anne shakes her head with disapproval  \n\\\u003e\"Not if you ain't got money this time. You got money darlin'?\"  \n\\\u003eJesse smiles  \n\\\u003e\"Well, yeah, but my friend Ayynon said he was treatin' me. So can I have a cup of coffee, some eggs n some bacon please? And uhhh, get my buddy Anon here a fresh cup of coffee, he looks like he mighta' put too much cream into his. Clumsy hands. You know humans.\"  \n\\\u003eLee Anne glares daggers at you  \n\\\u003e\"What a pal, a human buying a meal for Jesse. Ain't you just so generous?\"  \n\\\u003eYou can't be sure, but you can almost sense some heavily veiled sarcasm from your waitress  \n\\\u003eGod you want to fucking die right now  \n\\\u003eLee Anne sighs before sauntering off, muttering something about 'Making friends with humans is gonna get you shot round' here hun.'  \n\\\u003eThe bell above the door chimes, but you pay it no attention  \n\\\u003eIt's going to take all of your focus to get through this uncomfortable encounter  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eAs Lee Anne takes her sweet time in putting the order in, Jesse turns back to you and grins, obviously very pleased with the way this whole evening is shaping up  \n\\\u003eYou're not grinning, you're between strangling him and crying from the awkwardness  \n\\\u003eBut who should you be mad at? The anthro who just invited himself to dinner on your dime, or yourself, for not saying a damn word about it?  \n\\\u003eJesse smiles again, scrunching up his face  \n\\\u003eThat dopey look with his tongue partly out makes you wanna punch his lights out  \n\\\u003eGuess you get to be mad at someone other than yourself for a change  \n\"Hey, that wasn't cool, dude. I didn't say I would buy you dinner,\" you hiss at him  \n\\\u003eThe dopey grin dissipates quickly  \n\\\u003e\"Yeah but you didn't stop me or say no, so-\"  \n\"That's not the point! The point is you don't do that shit to people, especially if you don't even know them!\"  \n\\\u003eJesse still looks confused as the words leave your mouth  \n\\\u003eAren't Heelers supposed to be an intelligent breed?  \n\\\u003eThe words finally register, and he nods, already ready with an answer for you  \n\\\u003e\"Well, we got dinner to get to know each other, right? No big deal. Out here mammals is a lot friendlier than you think.\"  \n\"Yes big deal,\" you sigh. \"You get your food and then I'm leaving, okay? I gotta catch a bus back home.\"  \n\\\u003eThe Heeler cocks his head, trying to process your statement  \n\\\u003e\"Back home? The buses don't run this time of night out here. You heading west? You're gonna have to wait at least a few days I bet.\"  \n\\\u003eYour jaw drops  \n\"Are you fucking me?\"  \n\\\u003eJesse, who was taking a sip out of your coffee cup, practically chokes  \n\\\u003e\"Fuck you? I hardly know you!\" He says through sputters, ears flattening back against his skull  \n\\\u003eYou swear you can almost see a crimson blush in his otherwise dark fur  \n\\\u003e\"And just what kind of girl do you think I am?\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Wait, what do you mean by that?\"  \n\\\u003e\"You know damn well what I mean. Look, I know I don't have a lot of money, but if you think I'm doing any of that shit with you just because you bought me dinner, then I hope you're into pain, college boy!\"  \n\\\u003eHis- You mean, HER hands tighten into fists  \n\\\u003eWhat the fuck is going on? He is a she? Is this crazy bitch about to assault you? Is a tranny about to kill you in some podunk little diner?  \n\\\u003eYou look at the anthro across the table again, this time really studying hi- HER  \n\\\u003eShe's got black and gray fur that reminds you of salt and pepper, soft blue eyes, that are staring daggers at you, but that are alight with small traces of feminine charm and intrigue  \n\\\u003eAnd suddenly you can start to see 'him' as a 'her'  \n\\\u003eHer facial features are soft and somewhat rounded (though to be fair you can't tell most anthros apart), and her arms, when you last remember seeing them, were thin and wiry, either from a lack of nutrition, muscle mass, or both  \n\\\u003eHer clothes are NOT doing her any favors. They look two sizes too big, and they're fucking filthy  \n\\\u003eMaybe she's just really flat?  \n\\\u003eBut you could maybe start to see her naked underneath  \n\\\u003eYour mind starts to wander to what this anthro-dog would look like disrobed  \n\\\u003eHmmm, small pink nubs on her chest where her tits ought to be, boyish, almost stick-thin frame, bright pink slit between her legs-  \n\\\u003eYou shake the thoughts violently from your head  \n\\\u003eNow is not the time to be fantasizing! This bumpkin might stab you! Or claw your face off! Or worse,  \n\\\u003eYour dick!  \n\"Shit, no, I didn't mean...\" your voice drops to a whisper, \"fucking, like...actual sex... It's just an expression that we use at school.\"  \n\\\u003eHer shoulders drop, and she cocks her head a little  \n\\\u003e\"Wait, you just say that stuff to random people?\" She questions, scratching a spot behind her ears. \"That's the most retarded thing I ever heard, and I can't even go to college.\"  \n\"I guess it is,\" you reply sheepishly. Now it was your turn to start blushing  \n\\\u003eShe suppresses a laugh behind her palm  \n\\\u003eYep, definitely a girl  \n\\\u003e\"Besides, if anyone out here found out I was shacking up with a human, they'd drag us both down to the creek and shoot us like frogs without a second thought.\"  \n\\\u003eShoot us like frogs!?  \n\"Are you fucking me?\"  \n\\\u003e\"Didn't we just go over this? No, I'm not fucking you!\" Her voice echoes in the empty diner, barely compet-ing with the shitty drone of the radio  \n\"No, no, that's not what I meant!\" You slap your head  \n\\\u003eYou want to find the people who wrote your 'Human-Anthro Relations' textbook and strangle them  \n\\\u003eThey were dead wrong about heelers  \n\"What I mean is: are things that... bad out here? Like, humans and anthros still can't associate?\"  \n\\\u003eNodding, She takes another sip of your 'coffee'  \n\\\u003e\"I suppose so. It depends on where you are and what kinda skin you're wearing. There's towns out here where I wouldn't dare visit, and there's towns where you wouldn't visit had you known' little better. And then there's places like Meeker, that are just... in between. This here is one of those towns where you're probably better off not visiting, if I do say so myself.\"  \n\"What do you mean by 'in between?'\"  \n\\\u003eJesse nods and tilts your 'coffee' mug towards you  \n\\\u003e\"You think that Lee Anne accidentally put too much cream in your coffee? Naw, she did that on purpose, and she'd probably do much worse if she didn't think you had money.\"  \n\\\u003eWhich reminds you: You really don't have any money  \n\\\u003eYou open your mouth to tell her that you probably won't be able to afford a bus ticket AND her meal, but she's not listening  \n\\\u003eShe rests her chin on her palm and stares off into the empty diner  \n\\\u003e\"Things aren't like your fancy college out here. People aren't as kind, and nobody's tip-toeing around no-body. Kindness is as rare as the rain these days. It's easy to get lonely out here. Been dreamin' of leavin', but I know I'd never make it outside of this lil' shitheap.\"  \n\\\u003eYou look around the diner, half expecting a pack of feral anthros to bust through the door and beat the piss out of you for not having fur  \n\\\u003eChrist, what kind of mess did you get yourself into? This isn't exactly Deliverance shit, but you're starting to feel like you're way out of your element  \n\\\u003eYou lean across the table, as close as you can get to her  \n\"Psst, is it true about the busses this time of night?\"  \n\\\u003eShe nods slowly  \n\\\u003e\"Yeah, you're stuck here until at least tomorrow, and it feels like it's getting late,\" she remarks, picking up your 'coffee' again and downing the last of it  \n\\\u003eYou silently cringe as you watch it go down her gullet  \n\\\u003eGood god that must have be like drinking pure syrup  \n\\\u003e\"Hope that food gets here soon, could use a good bite to eat,\" she says as she digs her tongue into what's left of the mug  \n\\\u003e\"And some coffee. I need a pick-me-up.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eAs if on cue, your favorite trailer slut waitress appears, a plate of food and two mugs of coffee at the ready  \n\\\u003eJesse hardly waits until Lee Anne is done setting the food down before practically stuffing her face  \n\\\u003e\"Christ hun, at least let me put the plate down first,\" Lee Anne groans. \"When's the last time you ate?\"  \n\\\u003eJesse looks up towards Lee Anne, her cheeks bulging, egg yolk running down her chin  \n\\\u003eShe swallows hard (nice) and holds up two fingers  \n\\\u003eLee Anne's face twists up with disgust  \n\\\u003e\"Ain't your tweaker momma feeding you? Or she spending all that government cheese on more crank?\"  \n\\\u003eJesse stops her ravenous assault on the plate and stares down at the table  \n\\\u003eOooh boy this is getting awkward  \n\\\u003eYou want to say something, but you're not sure what you could say in this instance  \n\\\u003eA look of confusion and hurt plays out across her usually cheerful and excitable face  \n\\\u003eThe Heeler says nothing, just stares down at the table  \n\\\u003eLee Anne clears her throat, and you open your mouth to call her a fucking bitch, but she's too quick, and you're too beta  \n\\\u003e\"Well, if you ever need anything else to eat, try to bring another human by, maybe he'll cover your meal too,\" She smirks at you and hands you the check. \"Here Mr. Moneybags, bring that up when you're ready or when she's taken you for another ride.\"  \n\\\u003eAnd with that crushing performance, the coyote spins on her heels and saunters off, a very proud and caustic grin spreading across her rust colored fur  \n\\\u003eYou don't know what to say, or what you could say  \n\\\u003eJesse just sits there, looking hurt  \n\\\u003eYou sit there in stunned silence, feeling conflicted  \n\\\u003eOn one hand, that felt completely uncalled for on Lee Anne's part, and on the other hand, you wonder if you've just been taken for a ride, as if this is something Jesse does all the time  \n\\\u003eYou check the bill  \n\\\u003e$24, so basically you can't afford to get back home if you pay this  \n\\\u003eFucking hell  \n\\\u003eYour start to say something, but Jesse grabs you by the hand and drags you out of the diner  \n\\\u003eYou try to say something when she drags you round back to where the dumpsters are, but as you open your mouth she clumsily shoves her tongue in  \n\\\u003eFor a solid 15 seconds there's this confusing silence where you, profoundly awkward, and her, profoundly inexperienced, tongue wrestle  \n\\\u003eIt feels like you're having a breathing contest, seeing who can go the longest without opening their eyes  \n\\\u003eYou don't know where to put your hands either, and neither does she, so you two basically just stand there like weird statues, trying to imitate what you think making out is supposed to be like  \n\\\u003eDo you...  \n\\\u003eDo you grab her butt or something? How does this work?  \n\\\u003eYou're about to make a move, but she pulls away quickly, leaving you breathless  \n\\\u003eShe quickly wipes a trail of spit from her lips, her face bright red with heat  \n\\\u003eShe clenches her eyes shut, sending tears rolling down her cheeks  \n\\\u003e\"T-That's for dinner, and... and whatever else you want, because I owe you, and...\"  \n\\\u003eShe's trembling, and you're not sure if it's from embarrassment, sadness, or adrenaline considering she just forced herself on you  \n\\\u003eMaybe it's all three?  \n\\\u003e\"And I- I ain't some kind of whore or anything, but I o-owe you for dinner tonight, and for being so k-kind...\"  \n\\\u003eYou can tell that she's trying very hard to hold back tears, given that she pretty much won't look you in the eyes  \n\\\u003e\"We can go back to my place, or... wherever... My mom won't care nothing, or about who I bring home,\" she says, trying to wear a brave smile. \"Besides, I swear I ain't using you. I ain't that type'a gal.\"  \n\\\u003eAnother moment of indecision  \n\\\u003eYou realistically could say yes, because you haven't gotten laid in like two years, and the last time was an awkward drunken hookup at a party you didn't want to be at  \n\\\u003eAnd she tasted like vomit  \n\\\u003eBut this feels almost wrong  \n\\\u003eAnd her on the verge of crying doesn't help  \n\\\u003eYou've never been great with women, so you just blurt the first thing that comes to mind  \n\"I want to go home.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eShe ends up fully sobbing, and whispers something about how she wants to go home too, but you're too paralyzed with the feels to actually say something comforting  \n\\\u003eDoes 'there there' even comfort anyone?  \n\\\u003eBefore you can actually do or say anything, she gently presses her head into your chest and grabs you by your shirt collar  \n\\\u003eFor the first time in what you imagine is a few years, you imagine, she allows herself to sob  \n\\\u003eYou go for a hug, but settle for a hover hand  \n\\\u003eJesus fuck why are you like this?  \n\\\u003e\"I'm sorry,\" she chokes out, unaware of your awkward attempt at comforting her  \n\\\u003e\"I'm sorry for kissing you, and for using you, and for...\"  \n\\\u003eThis time you actually just hug her, because you honestly can't stand to hear her like this anymore  \n\\\u003eYou can feel a metaphorical pair of testicles drop into your literal sack  \n\\\u003eShe hushes up, and you let her sob silently into your ratty old college shirt  \n  \n\\\u003eA few minutes pass, and when she's finally done, she blows her nose on the collar of her old shirt  \n\\\u003eEww  \n\\\u003eShe buttons up her crusty denim jacket and steps back, trying not to look you in the eyes  \n\\\u003e\"S-Sorry bout that,\" she stammers  \n\\\u003eYou tell her it's okay. Not the first time an anthro dog has cried into your shirt  \n\\\u003e\"Wait, are you kidding?\" She slaps her head in disbelief. \"In all the hurry I forgot to ask if you even had a girlfriend.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Or a boyfriend?\" She says cautiously, \"I don't judge much. If you can't tell, I'm not really in a position to be judging others.\"  \n\"No, no,\" you smile and shake your head. \"I'm single as hell, and probably will be for the rest of my days.\"  \n\\\u003e\"You 'n me both, Anon. You 'n me both,\" she sighs, rubbing her palm on the back of her neck  \n\\\u003eYou can still feel the tension of what just happened between you two, but it feels somewhat dissipated by now  \n\\\u003eThe moon is already well into the night sky, and with the crickets chirping a summer symphony, you decide that it's at least 8 or 9 p.m.  \n\\\u003eJesse notices too, and stifles a yawn  \n\\\u003e\"Normally I don't do this, but since I made you miss your bus home, would you like to stay the night with me?\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eCome home? With her?  \n\\\u003eStay the night at a strange anthro woman's 'home'?  \n\\\u003eWhat could go wrong  \n\\\u003eNo, fuck this, you're going to see if you can sleep in the diner and wait for the next bus  \n\\\u003eYou open your mouth to issue your declaration of independence, but the roar of an engine clips your speech  \n\\\u003eA pair of headlights open up on you, outlining your shapes in gold  \n\\\u003ePressed against the dumpster, Jesse blocking the source of the light with her back, you can only see two thin shadows piling out of a shitbeater truck  \n\\\u003eDigitride feet  \n\\\u003eHeaving tails  \n\\\u003eBroad shoulders  \n\\\u003eEars like black knives standing atop predatory skulls  \n\\\u003eThese aren't just anthros  \n\\\u003eThey're carnivores  \n\\\u003eYou open your mouth to say something to Jesse  \n\\\u003eThere's a heavy crack that pounds off the diner's back walls, like lightning striking on a clear day  \n\\\u003eGunfire  \n\\\u003eJesse gasps, squeals, and then tumbles forward, crashing into you  \n\\\u003eYou manage to catch her in your arms  \n\\\u003e...  \n\\\u003eHoly shit  \n  \n\\\u003e\"The bitch blocked my shot!\" A deep voice groans  \n\\\u003e\"Best body armor he's ever had,\" another voice adds with a hateful chuckle  \n\\\u003eYou're frozen  \n\\\u003eJesse isn't moving  \n\\\u003eThis isn't real  \n\\\u003eAnd there's blood leaking out of her ratty flannel  \n\\\u003eAnd her tail is flat and limp  \n\\\u003eAnd this can't be real  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eHow does someone die so quickly and so senselessly?  \n  \n\\\u003e\"Knew we'd find Jesse hanging around the human.\"  \n\\\u003eA coyote wearing light jeans, a dark red flannel and sporting a trucker's hat steps into the light  \n\\\u003eJudging by the set of his shoulders, his height, and the youthful snarl etched into his pubescent face, he's still a teenager, maybe just barely older than a pup  \n\\\u003eYou imagine that if he were human he'd be sporting a fresh crop of acne  \n\\\u003e\"Smelled your scent from a mile away, pinkie.\" He narrows a scowl at you  \n\\\u003eHe's got a heavy wrench dangling from his right hand  \n\\\u003eA similarly young crocodile trundles into the light, cradling a double barrel shotgun  \n\\\u003eYou swear your heart is going to leap out of your chest  \n\"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!\" You scream at them  \n\\\u003eYou don't know -- the noise just exploded out of you  \n\\\u003eThe anthros flinch at your voice, their sensitive hearing spiking  \n\\\u003eThere's a puddle of blood collecting beneath Jesse  \n\\\u003eShe's starts to feel heavy in your arms -- like a bag loaded with buckshot  \n\\\u003eBut you don't want to let go  \n\\\u003eYou can't let go  \n\\\u003eYou barely know this person and yet... you feel tied to her  \n\\\u003eAt the very least, she saved your life  \n\\\u003eThe croc cracks the barrel in half  \n\\\u003eA spent red shell jumps out into the air  \n\\\u003eYou watch it arc in the headlights and crash onto the ground  \n\\\u003e\"We're just having some fun is all-\"  \n\"FUN!?\" You fire back. \"You just killed her! What's your idea of fun!?\"  \n\\\u003eThe two predators narrow their eyes on Jesse's limp body  \n\\\u003eHer muzzle rests on your shoulder, and her blood is starting to get on your own shirt  \n\\\u003e\"Ain't nobody gonna miss her. Plenty a' heelers round these parts\" The coyote says with finality and not a hint of remorse  \n\"Fuck you, she had a family,\" you say, choking back tears  \n\\\u003e\"Barely,\" the croc adds. \"Shane's right. Ain't nobody going to miss her. Her mamma's probably OD'd by now anyway.\"  \n\\\u003e\"She don't do nothin' round here 'cept cheat and steal from people. We're doing the town a favor.\" 'Shane' the Coyote says. He spits into the dirt and stamps it out with the heel of his ratty tennis shoes  \n\\\u003eThe two predators take a step forward  \n\\\u003eThe crocodile, Bill, sets the barrel of his shotgun against his shoulder and aims down at you  \n\\\u003eHis narrow maw curls into a smile  \n\\\u003e\"You got five seconds to drop her and make this easy on yourself.\"  \n\"Fuck you!\" you sputter. \"This is murder, don't you care?!\"  \n\\\u003eOkay, this time your actually crying  \n\\\u003eAnd why shouldn't you be?  \n\\\u003eYou never thought you'd go like this  \n\\\u003eYou hold Jesse even tighter in protest  \n\\\u003eThe coyote inches forward  \n\\\u003e\"Nobody's gonna care about a little human gone missing. Not in this town. You and Jesse's all the same -- trash that someone's gotta take out.\"  \n\\\u003eBig talk from two murderers  \n\\\u003eThe coyote thumps his wrench into his palms as a show of force  \n\\\u003e\"Mister either you let Bill take care of you, or I'm going to handle you with my wrench here. Now you got FOUR FUCKING SECONDS to drop the heeler and take it like a man.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eA shotgun blast to the head is peaceful in its own way, you guess  \n\\\u003eIt's one millisecond of agony, and then darkness  \n\\\u003eNot so bad, right?  \n\\\u003eYou feel your grip on Jesse loosening  \n\\\u003eAnd you're about to drop her weight, when you hear her say, weakly, with a throat full of blood:  \n\\\u003e\"Go. Run.\"  \n  \n\\\u003eYou drop Jesse into a puddle of her own blood  \n\\\u003eYou don't need any further instruction  \n\\\u003eSatisfied, Bill takes aim at you  \n  \n\\\u003eYou swing your camera out of the bag right as Bill's scaly fingers tense around the trigger  \n\\\u003eYou hope to fucking God this works  \n\\\u003eYou press down on the shutter  \n\\\u003eAnthros have sensitive eyes, right?  \n\\\u003eThere's a white flash from your camera, a blinding, digital explosion  \n\\\u003eAnd, right then and there, you duck, and roll to the side  \n\\\u003eThe shotgun barks  \n\\\u003eThe brickwork of the diner explodes above you, riddled with spray  \n\\\u003eAnd when the light fades, you hit the dirt, feet pounding, heart hammering, excess adrenaline surging in your veins  \n\\\u003eYou set your sights on hiding in the tall cornfields, just a few feet from the diner  \n\\\u003eA quick check over your shoulders shows that Bill and Shane are stumbling about, half-blind, pinching their blinded eyes with their forefingers  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eDid it work?  \n\\\u003eDid you get away?  \n\\\u003eAnother shotgun blast  \n\\\u003eDid he reload that fast?  \n\\\u003eYou feel something sting the back of your legs  \n\\\u003eThen that stinging pain becomes a fierce, gripping agony  \n\\\u003eYou stumble, trip, and are down for the count  \n\\\u003eWhen you look down at your leg, outlined in silver by the light of the moon, it's pretty much shredded to shit and geysering blood  \n\\\u003eShit  \n\\\u003eYou fumble for your camera again when you see the wrench-wielding coyote bounding towards you  \n\\\u003eHe leaps into the air with one powerful pulse of his legs  \n\\\u003eShane brings the wrench over his head  \n\\\u003eMaybe you can-  \n\\\u003eHe lands on your chest  \n\\\u003eAnd brings the wrench down on skull, shattering bone and-  \n  \n\\\u003e\"Can I get you some coffee, or a pillow?\"  \n\\\u003eYour eyelids peel open  \n\\\u003eA waitress, a real fucking movie-ass waitress in a blue uniform with a notepad and all is looking impatiently down at you, her canine eyes half-open  \n\\\u003eShe's an older looking Coyote, a little bored, wearing a purple bow tie in her rust-colored fur, like a super-model who had just cat-walked out of Wal-Mart  \n\\\u003eYou blink a few times  \n\\\u003eThought that waitresses only looked like this in movies?  \n\\\u003e\"So, should I come back or...?\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eWhat the fuck  \n  \n\\\u003e\"You a reporter?\" She asks, eyes narrowing. \"Because we don't have need of a reporter in our town.\"  \n\\\u003eSeconds ago you were getting your brain evicted from your skull outside the diner  \n\\\u003eAnd now you're here, back in the diner  \n\\\u003eAnd it's day time now  \n\\\u003eBut how  \n\\\u003eWas it all a dream?  \n\\\u003eIt's starting to fade in your grainy imagination, wiping back to a clean slate, a constant running theater of incessant bullshit and noise  \n\\\u003eThat memory -- that dream -- is drowning in the sudden sensory overload of this diner  \n\\\u003eThe chimey radio  \n\\\u003eThe smell of coffee and the acrid stench of stale cigarettes  \n\\\u003eThe coyote waitress who clearly wants nothing to do with you  \n\\\u003eThe feeling that you're being watched and appraised  \n\\\u003eThink, you motherfucker!  \n\\\u003eGrab hold of a memory like a comet's tail and hold on  \n\\\u003eYou'd have an easier time holding smoke  \n\\\u003eYou can only remember a few things: This girl named Jesse, and these two carnivores, and she...  \n\\\u003eYou look up with a blank stare, mouth working but no sound coming out  \n\\\u003e\"Alright, I'll just bring some coffee back.\" The waitress spins on her heels and starts walking back towards the kitchen, every footstep like glass shattering against the (relative) quiet of the diner  \n\\\u003eSHIT  \n\\\u003eYou lost it  \n\\\u003eYou were so close to retrieving that memory-dream-thing  \n\\\u003eWell, whatever. It was probably just a dream, anyway  \n\\\u003eYou remember once when you woke up from a nightmare where you swallowed your tongue  \n\\\u003eThe first thing you did was jam your hand in your mouth and try to keep it from slipping down your throat  \n\\\u003eOf course, you ignored your very obvious REAL tongue, at the time, fat and in the way  \n\\\u003eThis was life or death  \n\\\u003eThe point is: these types of dreams happen  \n\\\u003eThey can feel real, but... they just aren't  \n\\\u003eThis is one of those dreams  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eYou pull out your camera and start poking through the pictures, none of them catch your interest  \n\\\u003eMostly just shots of campus, some pictures you took from the bus window  \n\\\u003eJust gotta occupy yourself until the waitress comes back, because when she parks her plump, anthro butt right in front of you, you're going to order some food  \n\\\u003eYou need some right about now with how heavy your body feels  \n\\\u003eAnd when she leaves, you're going to take a picture of her FAT ass  \n\\\u003e...  \n\\\u003eWhat? Nobody ever said you had good taste  \n\\\u003eCreepy, too, but you consider it revenge for her acting like a bitch  \n  \n\\\u003eAs if on cue, the waitress reappears with a steaming ceramic mug of coffee and a lording, venomous smile  \n\\\u003e\"Here ya' go, hun. This'll wake you right up.\"  \n\\\u003eWhen she sets the coffee down your enthusiasm deflates  \n\\\u003eIt's loaded with so much cream and sugar that it's practically white  \n\\\u003eShe slaps her hands on her hips  \n\\\u003e\"Anything else I can get you, Mr. News Man?\"  \n\\\u003eWith the way she cocks her head, you're certain that there's more than just cream and sugar in this coffee  \n\\\u003eYou paint on a wide smile and thank her  \n\"No, I think I'm okay.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Good!\" She brightens her tone to a high shine. \"I'll be back in a bit to grab your order.\"  \n\"Great, thanks.\" You sink in your chair  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eYou flick through your camera's LCD screen and ready a shot  \n\\\u003eAnd then you pause on something  \n\\\u003eThe waitress is on the screen  \n\\\u003eYou blush  \n\\\u003eWell it's not specifically her  \n\\\u003eIt's a shot of her sauntering away from your table, her fat ass on full-display  \n\\\u003eBut the thing is  \n\\\u003eYou just met the waitress  \n\\\u003eYou don't remember taking this shot  \n\\\u003eIs it cliché to say that 'ideas start as small seeds buried in the mind'?  \n\\\u003eThe bell over the door chimes a happy little sound, like the tiniest of hammers banging on a silver sheet of metal  \n\\\u003eYou hear the waitress brighten her tone again. \"Hey you two, need a table?\"  \n\\\u003eYou poke your head above the dividers between tables  \n\\\u003eA crocodile and coyote -- both of them juvenile and covered in dirt/dust -- saunter through the door  \n\\\u003eThe coyote locks eyes with you for a steady second  \n\\\u003eIt makes you feel uncomfortable, but you can't place why  \n\\\u003eStill, you drop your body into your seat, camera strapped around your neck  \n\\\u003eYou try to ignore the collision of neurons in your brain  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003e\"You a reporter from the city?\" A voice from behind you causes you to nearly drop your camera (good thing you were wearing the neck strap)  \n\\\u003eA Blue Heeler is peeking over the top of the booth behind you, her (and she is most definitely a woman, not a man) light blue eyes curiously watching as you find the words to answer  \n\\\u003eYou have none, but that's okay, this kid is leading the conversation like a child steering a race car  \n\\\u003e\"Can I see your camera?\" She asks, extending a thin arm over the booth  \n\\\u003eWell gee, that's really fucking forward  \n\"Ummmm, no...\" you offer in return. \"I'm just taking some photos of some stuff before I head back home.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Oh, where you from?\" Her eyes light up, and a friendly smile widens across her face. \"You from the city or something? You out here to write a story about the meth?\"  \n\\\u003eWhat the hell is up with this kid?  \n\\\u003eYou tell her you're just a college student from the city, out on a solo photo project  \n\\\u003eAnd you leave out the part about getting cold feet and wanting to go home, because that's not intrepid  \n\\\u003eWhen you're finished with the explanation, the kid, who tells you her name is Jesse, practically leaps into the chair opposite of you  \n\\\u003eYou introduce yourself as Anon  \n\\\u003eShe's... Well, a little too friendly, and it makes you uncomfortable  \n\\\u003eShe might be trying to rob you, or she might be retarded  \n\\\u003eHeelers: friendly, intelligent, high energy, usually find good work out in agriculture due to their heritage and breeding standards  \n\\\u003eShe must not have gotten the intelligence genes the breed is known for  \n\\\u003eShe's wearing a heavy flannel buttoned all the way up, some loose and dirty jeans, a pair of work shoes, and she smells like she's been rolling around the fields for a few days, so she definitely is doing some kind of manual labor  \n\\\u003eShe leans eagerly across the table, extending the length of her thin body in order to peek at what you're doing, and if it weren't for the table separating you two, you're sure she'd be touching you by now  \n\\\u003eYou're assaulted by her seemingly innocuous questions of 'what's this, how's that work, you ever taken photos for magazines before?' And you do your best to answer all of them, leaving you practically out of breath by the time she finishes up grilling you  \n\\\u003eThis girl is really reminding you of the fact that you're an introvert  \n\\\u003e\"You know, I really want to go visit the city someday. Maybe I'll visit your school,\" she says, kind of absentmindedly  \n\\\u003e\"I need to put some miles between me and this shitty little town, and I always wanted to be on a college campus.\"  \n\"I'm sure you do. People here are kind of... rude?\" You probe  \n\\\u003e\"Only just to outsiders, humans especially,\" Jesse says. She looks around briefly for theatrical effect, and then leans in close, narrowing her shoulders  \n\\\u003e\"You picked the wrong town to stop off in,\" she says in a whisper. \"I'm tellin' you this cause you seem like alright guy. You need to leave here as soon as possible.\"  \n\"What are you talking about?\"  \n\\\u003eAnd right at that perfect moment, that croc and coyote wander up to the table  \n\\\u003e\"Jesse.\" The crocodile's voice is heavy with abuse. \"You making new friends?\" He raises an eyebrow. \"Human friends?\"  \n\\\u003eThe coyote eyes you up and down, his cold, appraising eyes causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. \"What's with the camera? He a reporter?\"  \n\\\u003e\"No, he ain't a reporter. He's just a-\" she turns to you  \n\\\u003eYou feel her kick you underneath the table  \n\\\u003eHer powerful boots collide off your shin bone  \n\\\u003eYou nearly yelp  \n\\\u003e\"What're you here for again?\" She says with a modicum of urgency  \n\\\u003eYou start to speak, but the look that Jesse gives you tells you that you need to choose your next words carefully  \n\"I'm a college student. From Fairmount?\" You toss out your college like bait, hoping one of them will bite and this conversation will turn to pleasant, intellectual things  \n\\\u003eWhich is obviously never going to happen  \n\\\u003eWhy do they seem so familiar though?  \n\\\u003eSomething about them makes your heart start to race  \n\\\u003eYou desperately want to leave the diner  \n\\\u003eBut why?  \n\\\u003eFragments of that dream start to come back to you, but the tense silence is cut by the crocodile  \n\\\u003e\"Sure you are, friend. We get lots of 'college students' out here in the sticks,\" he says, leaning in close  \n\\\u003eThere's something strange about both of their eyes  \n\\\u003eTheir dark pupils are outlined in blood  \n\\\u003eThey look like they've been awake for days  \n\\\u003eThe coyote's rust-colored fur is completely tossed and unkempt  \n\\\u003eThere's even white powder sticking to it  \n\\\u003eThe croc on the other hand has a white foam accumulating around his jaws, a sign of exhaustion in reptiles  \n\\\u003eThey make even Jesse seem clean by comparison  \n\\\u003eAt least her salt-and-pepper fur is brushed and her coat is shiny  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eThe pair don't seem to care much about you  \n\\\u003eInstead they focus their attention all on Jesse  \n\\\u003e\"Looking for another handout, Jesse?\" The coyote says  \n\\\u003eThe heeler shakes her head  \n\\\u003e\"Nope, just making friends with someone. Says he's skipping out tonight, so I figured I'd get to know our guest over a cup of coffee.\"  \n\\\u003eShe kicks you again under the table  \n\\\u003eYou notice that her ears are plastered against her skull  \n\\\u003e\"Says he's skipping out tonight. Ain't that right?\" She repeats in no uncertain words  \n\\\u003eYou nod for all you're worth  \n\\\u003eGood work, that might have been the least natural thing you've ever done  \n\\\u003eNo way they believed that  \n\\\u003eThe crocodile gives you a devil's grin  \n\\\u003e\"We'll be seeing you,\" he says, before pacing off. \"Have a safe trip home.\"  \n\\\u003eThe coyote lags behind  \n\\\u003e\"Jesse,\" he says  \n\\\u003eThe heeler paints on a winning smile and even goes as far as tipping her head. \"Can I help you, hun?\"  \n\\\u003e\"Come see us later tonight.\"  \n\\\u003eThe smile never leaves her face  \n\\\u003e\"Can I come see you some other time? How about tomorrow morning? Over bacon?\"  \n\\\u003e\"Tonight.\" The coyote says, his voice firm, leaving no room for further bargaining  \n\\\u003eFor a pup he sure puts on quite a show  \n\\\u003eHe joins his partner on the other end of the diner, tail swishing aggressively behind him  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eYou switch focus to your camera  \n\\\u003eIt's a total crapshoot, but you think you remember why these guys creep you out so much  \n\\\u003eYou flick through photos  \n\\\u003eJesse scoots to your side of the booth, unconsciously crowding you into the corner  \n\\\u003eHer thin, rounded shoulder bumps into yours, and you can feel the heat her tight body is throwing off  \n\\\u003eIt's... a lot   \n\\\u003eShe must sweat a ton  \n\\\u003eOr she's really nervous  \n\\\u003e\"You sure take a lot of pictures,\" she remarks, clearly no longer worried about the two anthros who are just tucking in to their dinners. \"You should take one of me, I ain't never had a proper picture taken of me.\"  \n\"Shhhh, I'm looking for a specific on-\"  \n\\\u003eAnd there it is  \n\\\u003eThe last one in the camera roll  \n\\\u003eA night shot  \n\\\u003eAn anthro crocodile one-handing a shotgun  \n\\\u003eA ratty looking coyote with a wrench, trying to block the camera's flash from his sensitive eyes  \n\\\u003eTheir pickup truck in the background  \n\\\u003eAnd at the bottom of the picture?  \n\\\u003eJesse's body in a blood heap  \n  \n\\\u003eLadies and gentlemen, we are floating in space  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eOf all the pictures you don't remember taking, this one is the most damning  \n\\\u003eDream or not, this one is... fucked  \n\\\u003eJesse's breathing turns hard and heavy  \n\\\u003eHer blue eyes widen as her ears droop like leaden folds  \n\\\u003e\"W-Where did you get this?\" She asks  \n\\\u003e...  \n\"I just... I don't know.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Anon what the FUCK is this?\" She's shaking now, scooting out of the seat. \"What the fuck is wrong with you?\"  \n\\\u003eYour free hand shoots out and clasps onto her wrist  \n\\\u003eShe struggles  \n\\\u003e\"Let go of me you fucking weirdo!\"  \n\\\u003eYou instinctively tighten your grip  \n\\\u003eSure, not suspicious at all, right?  \n\\\u003eYour eyes meet for a quick second  \n\\\u003eYou communicate all that you cannot in words with a quick glance over your shoulder...  \n\\\u003e...At the two anthros -- the croc and the coyote -- who are now staring over at your table  \n\\\u003eShe sneaks her own glance, and then one back at you  \n\\\u003eYou can physically see the internal monologue going on in her head  \n\\\u003eThe play of words between the heartbeat and the synapse  \n\\\u003eAnd, thankfully, she elects to sit back down in your booth  \n\\\u003eYou release your grip on her wrist  \n\\\u003e...  \n\\\u003eWhy did you do that?  \n\\\u003eWhat did you get yourself involved?  \n\\\u003eWhat happens in that 'dream' that you're so scared of?  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003e\"Ya better have a good fucking explanation for what that is.\" She jabs the camera with a clawed finger  \n\\\u003eThe 'dream' is starting to crystallize  \n\\\u003ePieces coming together, like the torn remnants of a photograph of some unhappy moment forever immortalized in digital and kinetic space   \n\"I don't have one,\" you reply, trying to keep your voice a low hiss  \n\\\u003e\"I don't know much 'bout photos. I know I'm a dumb hick from nowherseville. But that don't give you the right to just... make creepy photos of me, okay?\"  \n\"Think about it Jesse -- I just met you. There's no possible way I could have made this up. And look, it's night in the photo!\"  \n\\\u003eYou point out the details on your LCD screen  \n\\\u003eJesse, still struggling, purses her lips and furrows her brow  \n\\\u003eThere's a slight pause  \n\\\u003eYou hear the sound of forks and knives playing off a nearly empty plate  \n\\\u003eThe tinkling sound of ice in a glass, like bones rattling together  \n\\\u003eWhatever happened in that 'dream' it ended with you and Jesse dying  \n\\\u003eAnd those two predators now nearly finished with their meals?  \n\\\u003eThey were the ones who killed you both  \n\\\u003e\"So now what in the hell am I supposed to do? Are you saying this isn't something you made up?\"  \n\\\u003eThat's a good point  \n\\\u003eWhat ARE you supposed to do now that your dream is starting to bleed into reality?  \n\\\u003eYou don't have a plan  \n\\\u003eBut you do have a choice:  \n\\\u003eFight?  \n\\\u003eor flight?  \n\\\u003eYou look down at the untouched coffee cup, isolated on the table  \n\\\u003eIt's so loaded with cream and sugar that it's pale  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eFlight  \n  \n\\\u003eYou know what you're going to do?  \n\\\u003ePut a million fucking miles between yourself and this hick town  \n\\\u003eAnd especially between you and this dumb heeler  \n\\\u003eTONIGHT  \n\\\u003eLet the chips fall where they may  \n\\\u003eThis ain't about you  \n\\\u003eWhatever's going to happen will have to happen to Jesse and Jesse alone  \n\\\u003eBut how do you get out of here without a car?  \n\\\u003eYou hop out of the booth, bags slung over your shoulder  \n\\\u003eJesse follows quick behind you  \n\\\u003eShit, gotta ditch her FAST  \n\\\u003eThe sun is starting to go down, draining golden light out through the diner's windows  \n\\\u003e...  \n\\\u003eWindows  \n\\\u003eAn idea rattles around in your brain, having to do with windows and your escape  \n  \n\\\u003e\"You never answered me and- hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?\"  \n\\\u003eShe's quick behind you, following in your footsteps  \n\\\u003e\"You ain't even paid for that coffee yet.\"  \n\"I'm just going to bathroom,\" you say in a rushed breath  \n\\\u003e\"Bathroom? Mister this ain't the time to go listenin' to your bladder. I wanna see that photo again.\"  \n\\\u003eFUCK, why is she still behind you?  \n\\\u003eYou walk into the gas station portion of the diner and scan for the bathroom  \n\\\u003eThe plan is simple: go to the john. If there's a window, climb out of it and see if you can hitch a ride back to town   \n\\\u003eIf there's not a window, just take a piss, come out, reevaluate  \n\\\u003eA blue sign above the doors lets you know there is indeed a restroom at this gas station  \n\"Seriously, I'll let you take a look after I'm done, okay? I just wanna go pee.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Fine! Go piss! But I'll be waiting. And when we're done we're gonna talk about what's on that camera!\" Her voice booms in the small gas station  \n\\\u003eYou blush hard  \n\\\u003eFuck, people are going to think you're a pervert  \n\\\u003eAnd worse  \n\\\u003eThey're going to know where you went  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eThe bathroom is... cleaner than you expected  \n\\\u003eGuess it doesn't get used much  \n\\\u003eAs for its layout, it's got one stall, two urinals and...  \n\\\u003eA frosted window at far end of the bathroom, the orange light of sunset pouring out onto the floor  \n\\\u003eIt's as if the heavens have opened up and a host of heavenly angels have conspired together to offer you this one-way portal to freedom from Hicksville  \n\\\u003eYou start to pull open the window, but it's stuck from years of disuse  \n\\\u003eYou dig your whole body into the effort, channeling all 150 pounds of your being into your grip  \n\\\u003eThe window starts to budge, just a crack though  \n\\\u003eBut it's enough to let in a slant of light  \n\\\u003eAnd that's enough to give you hope  \n  \n\\\u003eUntil you hear noise outside the bathroom door  \n\\\u003e\"Hey, Bill, LET GO YOU ASSHOLE!\"  \n\\\u003eIt's Jesse  \n\\\u003e\"You're hurting me!\"  \n\\\u003eHeavy footsteps approaching the door  \n\\\u003eThe sounds of struggle sharp against your ears  \n\\\u003eHeart beating in the tin drum of your chest  \n\\\u003eThe door flies open  \n\\\u003eAnd you duck into the stall, hitching the lock  \n\\\u003e\"Where'd he go, Jesse?\" A gruff voice commands  \n\\\u003eDefinitely reptilian. Definitely Bill  \n\\\u003eThere's the sound of boots scuffling on the dirty floor  \n\\\u003e\"Where's your reporter friend?\"  \n\\\u003eYou jump up onto the toilet and keep low, so it looks like the stall is empty  \n\\\u003eAnd yet locked?  \n\\\u003eGod this is bad  \n\\\u003eAll you can do is... wait and watch  \n\\\u003eAnd listen   \n\\\u003e\"He's not a reporter,\" Jesse says, taking deep gulps of air. \"How many times do I gotta say that!?\"  \n\\\u003eShe sounds winded  \n\\\u003eThen there's a dull thud, the sound of bruised scales pounding into soft flesh  \n\\\u003eJesse yelps, her voice reaching an octave that sends your heart plummeting  \n\\\u003eFrom your vantage, standing on the toilet, you look under the stall divider   \n\\\u003eYou see Jesse go down, head pounding off the bare floor  \n\\\u003eOne bounce  \n\\\u003eThen two  \n\\\u003eA trail of crimson carves its way down her muzzle  \n\\\u003eBlood  \n\\\u003e\"Don't FUCK with me, mutt. I know a reporter when I see one, and I know why he's here.\"  \n\\\u003eJesse tries to sit up  \n\\\u003eThe crocodile, Bill, stamps his heavy boots into Jesse's chest, pinning her to the floor  \n\\\u003eYou watch as the heeler wheezes and struggles, having a lungful of air expelled in one cruel motion  \n\\\u003eShe reminds you of a bug with its legs ripped off  \n\\\u003eThe way she squirms, desperate, feral, trying so hard to comprehend her own pain  \n\\\u003e\"You squealed about the ice, didn't you? You told that reporter what we got going on here and now he's going to bust the whole thing open.\" Bill seethes. \"All so you can get outta town. But you ain't gonna leave, little girl. You're stuck here, just like the rest of us.\"  \n\\\u003eThe sound of Jesse choking...  \n\\\u003eIt's making you shake, isn't it?  \n\\\u003eThat's right  \n\\\u003eYou can feel yourself start to vibrate and pulse, tension and terror running in equal measure throughout your wired body  \n\\\u003eAnd this is all before you saw the knife in Bill's hands, gripped so hard that his knuckles are glowing white  \n\\\u003e\"You stupid bitch,\" he says. \"You stupid, stupid bitch. You've put us all at risk. Just give him up to us. You know what's in it for you if you just tell us where he went.\"  \n\\\u003eThe heeler struggles and kicks her legs, but Bill is too sturdy  \n\\\u003eYou can see the jagged edge of his hunting knife dangling just above her throat  \n\\\u003eHoly fucking shit  \n\\\u003eYou're about to witness a murder  \n\\\u003eHoly  \n\\\u003eFucking  \n\\\u003eShit  \n\\\u003eIf you stay silent, they might not hear you  \n\\\u003eYou might still be able to get out of this  \n\\\u003eHe'll kill her and leave  \n\\\u003eYou escape out the window and book it  \n\\\u003eEven that makes your stomach turn  \n\\\u003e\"So I'm going to ask again, doggie. Where the hell is the reporter?\"  \n\\\u003eJesse sucks down a fragmented gulp of air and rolls her bloody head to the side, facing under the stall   \n\\\u003eHer eyes open up  \n\\\u003eAnd your terrified gaze meets her own  \n\\\u003e...  \n\\\u003eThere's a quiet second, punctuated only by the rapid beating of your heart, where the two of you stare down each other  \n\\\u003eYou, too shocked to even communicate anything  \n\\\u003eAnd her, wide-eyed and confused  \n\\\u003eYou can see something flitting behind her eyes  \n\\\u003eMore than just the brunt spark of recognition  \n\\\u003eGears are turning  \n\\\u003eGears that power a mechanism so vast and incomprehensible that it has no physical form  \n\\\u003eIn just a second you can see a quick mind spring into action  \n\\\u003eBut that second ends as abruptly as it came about  \n\\\u003e\"ANSWER ME,\" Bill growls.  \n\\\u003eShe blinks twice at you, turns her head up at Bill, and says with a cough:  \n\\\u003e\"I have no idea where he went.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eIn life we're given choices  \n\\\u003eHandfuls of diverging paths that span a person's timeline, some converging, some collapsing, like old abandoned buildings in factory towns run dry  \n\\\u003eAll choices, for as diverse as they might seem, with their infinite outcomes, reduce down into two options:  \n\\\u003eFight  \n\\\u003eOr  \n\\\u003eFlight  \n\\\u003eRight?  \n\\\u003eCan things be that simple?  \n\\\u003eCan you separate the human experience into two camps with just the edge of a knife?  \n\\\u003eAre you flight?  \n\\\u003eOr are you fight?  \n\\\u003eThere is no third option  \n  \n\\\u003eYou're quick on the latch  \n\\\u003eBill never saw you coming  \n\\\u003eWith a feral yell, you cut loose and leap off the toilet like a madman  \n\\\u003eYou explode out of the stall, careening through the air  \n\\\u003eYour target?  \n\\\u003eA big, dumbfuck crocodile  \n\\\u003eWho could probably snap your neck with his jaws  \n\\\u003eForward you fly, into the jaws of death  \n  \n\\\u003eYou are fight  \n  \n\\\u003eYou wrap your arms around him as your momentum carries you through the air  \n\\\u003eYou knock Bill off of his feet  \n\\\u003eGood GOD this guy is huge  \n\\\u003eHis torso must be twice the size of yours  \n\\\u003eStill, you caught him off-guard, and so this roughly 300-pound lizard goes down with you, the knife swinging wildly in his right arm  \n\\\u003eJesse gasps, sucking air into her lungs now the croc's weight is off her chest  \n\\\u003eThere's a solid \\*thump\\* as the back of Bill's head slams into the sink, chipping the porcelain  \n\\\u003eHis eyes collapse in on themselves, like two bloodshot stars suddenly going dark  \n\\\u003eLights out  \n\\\u003eHis tremendous body comes to rest on the floor with you sprawled out on top of him  \n\\\u003e\"Anon?\" Jesse coughs as she tries to stand  \n\\\u003eIt takes her a few shaky seconds, but with your help, she's on her feet  \n\\\u003e\"Thank you kindly,\" she says with another choking cough. \"But you didn't have to do that.\"  \n\"What the hell do you mean? He was going to kill you!\"  \n\\\u003e\"I had the situation handled,\" she adds with a sheepish smile  \n\"So that's what you call handling the situation?\"  \n\\\u003e\"Well now we're really up shit creek. I had it handled.\"  \n\"And I'm here to tell you, you did not have this handled.\"  \n\\\u003e\"If he ganked me they woulda' left and you coulda' gotten away. But now we try to go out and Shane'll probably crack open your skull like a peanut. And,\" she points down at Bill, who is still down and out, \"he's going to come 'round here pretty soon.\"  \n\\\u003eShe picks Bill's hunting knife off his body and mounts his body  \n\\\u003e\"Let's light this candle.\"  \n\\\u003eWat  \n\\\u003eShe raises the knife over her head, light blue eyes set on Bill's padded throat  \n\\\u003eInstinct forces your hand  \n\\\u003eYou catch her arms mid stab  \n\"Jesus, wait a second,\" you say in a low, urgent voice  \n\\\u003e\"Wait? Why wait? This prick tryda' cut my throat. Was just 'boutta return the favor.\"  \n\"Because... shit. We can still get out of this without murder charges. How about that?\"  \n\\\u003eShe shakes you free  \n\\\u003e\"I reckon that in about 30 seconds this scaly bastard is going to wake up, or his tweaker pal is going to barge in on us. I may not be smart enough for your colleges, but I don't see any alternatives other than to cut this green bastard's throat and get the jump on Shane.\"  \n\\\u003eYou clutch your head  \n\\\u003eHoly fuck  \n\\\u003eYou need to think  \n\\\u003eShe's crazy  \n\\\u003eEveryone's crazy  \n\\\u003eThis is crazy  \n\\\u003eWasn't this supposed to be a dream?  \n\\\u003eYou feel the sun at your back  \n\\\u003eA bird song floats in through the barely-cracked window  \n\\\u003eAh  \n\\\u003eRight  \n\\\u003eYou tap Jesse on the shoulder and point towards the window  \n\\\u003eShe puts two and two together almost before you do  \n\\\u003e\"But I'm keeping the knife,\" she declares  \n\\\u003eAnd that's fine with you  \n\\\u003eSelf-defense? That's fine  \n\\\u003eStraight up murder? Leave that to the universe  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eWith the window open you toss your bags out first  \n\\\u003eJesse slips out with anthropomorphic grace  \n\\\u003eYou throw one last look at your shoulder for reassurance  \n\\\u003eBill is still down for the count  \n\\\u003eSatisfied, you climb out the window and put two feet on solid dirt  \n\\\u003eJesse is waiting for you  \n\\\u003eShe pockets the knife  \n\\\u003eAlright, plan-  \n\\\u003eJesse grabs you by the arm and rushes you around the back of the gas station/diner  \n\\\u003eYou hardly have time to grab your bags before she's got you pressed up against the brick construction of the gas station  \n\"This is your idea of a hiding spot? Just a few feet away from those lunatics?\" You say with a hiss. \"We need to get back on the road and flag down a car-\"  \n\\\u003eShe hushes you  \n\\\u003e\"You're talkin' too loud there city boy. Just hush up for a second while I think of sumthin'.\"  \n\"I already did the thinking for us: we start walking down the road and flag down a car-\"  \n\\\u003e\"Where do you reckon you think you are, Anon? Ain't nobody stopping for hitchhikers out here, specially not a human. Less they're trynna skin ya.\"  \n\\\u003eShe does have a point  \n\\\u003eThe wildlife -- save for Jesse -- hasn't been all that friendly since you arrived  \n\\\u003eCome to think of it, why is she being so friendly?  \n\\\u003eWhat the hell does she get out of protecting you?  \n\\\u003e...  \n\\\u003eHer grip on you tightens, sending live wires of pain running up your arm  \n\\\u003eYou can feel her claws burrowing their way into your skin  \n\\\u003eYou flinch  \n\"Jesse, relax. You're hurting me,\" you say  \n\\\u003eLike a bear trap springing open, she releases her vise grip on you  \n\\\u003e\"S-Sorry,\" she says. \"Just a nervous habit.\"  \n\"You're fine,\" you say, rubbing your arm  \n\\\u003eShe actually managed to leave impressions in your skin  \n\\\u003eYou guess that she was a few more seconds from drawing blood  \n\"Think of a solution?\"  \n\\\u003eShe nods earnestly, ears springing up  \n\\\u003eShe points towards a cornfield just a few feet away  \n\\\u003eIts green stalks are nearly twice your height, and dense as well  \n\\\u003eThey sway in the blue dusk pulled by the gentle wind  \n\\\u003eYou flatten your tone  \n\"Got any better ideas?\"  \n\\\u003e\"What's wrong with hiding out in the corn fields? I know my way 'round. There's a country road nobody uses just on the other side of this field.\"   \n\"And then what, just live off corn?\"  \n\\\u003e\"We jus' lay low for awhile, that's all I'm saying.\"  \n\\\u003eIt's not ideal, of course, but it beats getting stabbed  \n\\\u003eOr shot  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eSummer brings spiced winds, even at night  \n\\\u003eYou glance about you, drinking in the length of the corn stalks, the rolling hills, the empty road, the stars pin-holing the night sky like a scattering of winking diamonds  \n\\\u003eYour trip through the corn fields was short-lived and left you with bugs all over your skin, so you're glad to be out in the open, secluded by the waving shoots of corn  \n\\\u003eIt's just you, Jesse, and the light of the silver moon to keep you chattering as the two of you trek down this dusty country road  \n\\\u003e\"Getting tired college boy?\" Jesse swings her head over her shoulders  \n\\\u003eYou're starting to lag behind, the weight of your bag and camera gear holding you down  \n\\\u003eShe gives you a toothy smirk  \n\\\u003e\"Us heelers, we don't get tired. We just run all day and all night, like a truck on the highway.\"  \n\\\u003eYou jog up behind her, sweat pinning your shirt to your back  \n\"Even an engine has to stop for gas sometime,\" you wheeze  \n\\\u003eThat's enough to get her to slow her roll  \n\\\u003e\"Well, you got a point there. Ya know,\" she says with a slight pause, \"my house is just a few more miles down the road-\"  \n\"MILES?\" You say, though you're too winded to make more than a gasping sound  \n\\\u003e\"What's wrong?\" Need a drink? Some food?\"  \n\\\u003eMaybe you do. The last thing you had to drink was that shitty coffee. You're running on empty  \n\\\u003eThe heeler pauses, narrows her eyes, and glances around  \n\\\u003e\"I think I know where we are,\" she says, surveying the cornfield. \"'Least, I think so.\"  \n\"Oh, well that's reassuring.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Don't you get all dispargin' on me now, we got plenty of road to go. But you're right -- I'm starting to get some cotton mouth myself. And if I'm correct, there should be a water spigot 'round here.\"  \n\\\u003eHow in the hell can she tell? It's corn as far as you can see  \n\\\u003e\"I think it's... right over here.\"  \n\\\u003eShe weaves her fingers into yours, and before you even have a chance to protest, you're practically slung through the field  \n\\\u003eShe's a good few paces ahead of you, dragging you behind her like a child drags a toy behind her  \n\"Hey, hold on for a fucking second!\" You protest  \n\\\u003eHer laughter booms throughout the cornfields. A handful of crows wing off into the sky  \n\\\u003eHonestly, you have no fucking idea where you're going. You can't see anything ahead of you except her backside and... well... corn  \n\\\u003eShe must have not heard you, but you're too tired to fight  \n\\\u003eYou let Jesse tug you through the veritable forest of corn, until you come to a clearing -- a crop circle of some kind  \n\\\u003eAnd at the center of it all is a small shed, which is buzzing with noise -- probably an engine of some kind to pump water around the filed  \n\\\u003eAttached to the edge of the shed is life itself: a small faucet  \n\\\u003eJesse's eyes lock on almost instantly  \n\\\u003e\"See, didn't I tell you? Spigot. Right there.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eJesse lowers her head and uses a free hand to crank the faucet on  \n\\\u003eShe laps greedily at the water as it waterfalls into the dust and dirt  \n\\\u003eAnd...  \n\\\u003eYou whip your camera out of your bag and swing it into your hands  \n\"Hold still,\" you command, aiming down the viewfinder  \n\\\u003eYou crank up the aperture to compensate for the darkness  \n\\\u003eJesse stiffens up, water still trickling into her hungry mouth  \n\\\u003e\"W-What the hell are you doing?\" She says, spilling a mouthful of water  \n\"Don't worry about, just keep drinking.\"  \n\\\u003eShe giggles as you snap a few pictures...  \n\\\u003e...And then wretches and gags, spewing water out of her throat  \n\\\u003eYou check the LCD screen at the back of the camera and you've got a few great shots of blue heeler lapping at some water, her over-sized flannel shirt slipping past her shoulders, jeans barely clinging to her thin body...  \n\\\u003e...and then you've got a great many shots of water geysering out of her nose, eyes pinched shut, body retching forward  \n\\\u003eLaughter explodes out of you  \n\\\u003eFuck it, you don't care who hears you right now  \n\\\u003eJesse clutches the side of the shed and sputters water like an engine failing to kick over  \n\\\u003eYou laugh even harder  \n\\\u003eShe throws a middle finger (paw?) over her shoulders while you bust a gut  \n\"Sounds like you've got a... DRINKING problem,\" you say, as the audience hurls tomatoes at you for making such a shitty joke  \n\\\u003e\"I can handle my liquor, this water here jus' caught me off guard'sall\"  \n\"Alright alright, I'm just teasing.\" You flip your camera around your back and approach the shed  \n\\\u003eStill coughing, Jesse steps to the side  \n\\\u003eYou notice she's managed to absolutely soak the shit out of her shirt -- turning it nearly translucent  \n\\\u003eSilvered in the moonlight she looks...  \n\\\u003eLike a goddess  \n\\\u003eShe wears the night so well  \n\\\u003eAnd, soaking wet, you can see the way it outlines her delicate curves, tracing her shape with powdered light  \n\\\u003eShe's feminine to be sure  \n\\\u003eShe just stands there, perfectly slouched, leaning one arm against the shed  \n\\\u003eYou finish taking a long, careful drink  \n\\\u003eBut you notice she's not looking in your direction anymore  \n\\\u003eShe's taken her hand off the shed, and instead has wrapped both arms around her shivering frame  \n\\\u003eYou stand tall in the twinkling darkness and focus your gaze on her  \n\\\u003e\"Jesse-\" you start  \n\\\u003eShe looks at you, her blush glowing crimson in the darkness, like a spangled banner of red stars against the blackening night sky  \n\\\u003e\"What!?\" She barks. \"I'm c-cold's'all.\"  \n\\\u003eYou slacken, unsure of what to do with yourself  \n\\\u003eThere's a silence between you two Jesse trembles in the darkness, and you let the water drain out of the spigot  \n\\\u003e...  \n\"Wanna see some pictures that I took?\"  \n\\\u003eHer face lights up despite the cold  \n\\\u003e\"SURE!\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eYou click through your camera roll, which is like a stop-motion film  \n\\\u003eFirst it begins on campus, last fall  \n\\\u003eBright colors  \n\\\u003eAuburn and gold  \n\\\u003eYou remember when you took this one  \n\\\u003eYou were exploring campus for the first time, so it's a series of shots of you making your way from your dank dorm room to the quad  \n\\\u003eJesse leans in intently, the smell of wet dog radiating off of her  \n\\\u003eShe's still shivering, so you let your shoulder bump into yours  \n\\\u003e\"Holy crap,\" she says, as you scroll through pics of your quad  \n\\\u003eThere's people -- anthros and humans all mingling with one another as easy as fish breathe water  \n\\\u003eShe settles on a panorama of the quad, which is encased in red brick buildings on all sides  \n\\\u003eIn the center of the shot there's a huge oak tree  \n\\\u003eThe leaves of fall drift on the autumn breeze  \n\\\u003eIt's one of your favorite shots, actually  \n\"I took this on my first day up at uni.\"  \n\\\u003e\"No kidding? What was it like?\"  \n\\\u003eYou throw your gaze upwards and search the clear skies for an answer  \n\"I guess... it's kind of like constantly feeling like you have to throw up.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Oh, like when you're sick. I get it.\"  \n\"Yeah. You're entering a new stage in your life and leaving everything else behind so that you can grow and -- hopefully -- make some decent cash on the side. It's scary.\"  \n\\\u003eJesse lets out a puff of air  \n\\\u003e\"Not like I'd know. I was born and raised in this little town.\"  \n\"You mean you didn't move out here?\"  \n\\\u003eShe rolls her eyes, but you get the feeling the gesture wasn't directed at you  \n\\\u003e\"Move out here from where? Another Podunk shitheap little town? Yeah. I been stuck here all my life. All I know is corn, meth, and speciesm, in that order.\"  \n\\\u003eYou feel... uncomfortable  \n\\\u003eWhat do you say?  \n\\\u003eYou flick through more pictures on your camera, desperately trying to find meaning and significance in them so as to distract from the sudden somber atmosphere  \n\\\u003eThey're mostly of college life  \n\\\u003eShots of parties you didn't want to be at  \n\\\u003eSome work from class  \n\\\u003eA low whimper escapes Jesse  \n\"What's wrong?\"  \n\\\u003eShe hesitates  \n\\\u003e\"It- It's just... damnit,\" she exhales loudly and forces her eyes upward, latching on to the full moon. \"You don't know how good you got it.\"  \n\"I know I got it good. I got it too good, actually.\"  \n\\\u003eJesse puffs a jet of air from her chest. \"Whaddya mean by 'too good'? No such thing as too good.\"  \n\"God damn right I got it too good. I'm too insulated where I'm at in life. Too comfortable to change.\"  \n\\\u003e\"You don't want what we got out here, Anon. Trust me, you stay comfortable and happy in your little bubble.\"  \n\"You want to know what the bravest thing I've ever done is?\" You say, speaking over Jesse  \n\\\u003e\"Fuck someone without wrapping it?\"  \n\"It was coming out here on my own. No plan, vague goals and very little money. And now I fucked myself over.\"  \n\\\u003eYou barely planned things as it is, but now that you hear it out loud...  \n\\\u003eMan, it was really stupid to come out here  \n\\\u003eYou turn your focus back on your camera  \n\\\u003eAnd out of the corner of your eye?  \n\\\u003eYou see Jesse fidgeting with something  \n\\\u003eYou turn your head  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eJesse is halfway out of her oversized flannel  \n\"What the hell are you doing?!\" You say, but all she does is give you a curious glance before returning to fiddling with her buttons  \n\\\u003e\"I'm getting cold because this shirt is wet,\" she says. \"I'm problem-solving.\"  \n\\\u003eA shameful blush creeps over your face  \n  \n\\\u003e\"Now what were you saying? About doing something stupid?\" She says, flinging her shirt out in front of her  \n\\\u003eWhen you look over at her again she's only in her pair of jeans and her bra  \n\\\u003eIt's plain and dark, but stands out nicely against her gray fur  \n\\\u003eSeeing the gentle heave of her chest, you wonder why you first mistook her for a boy  \n\\\u003eOr for someone that gives a shit about social grace  \n\\\u003eShe slides comfortably against the shed and into the trampled corn stalks  \n\\\u003eYou can see her panting hard and heavy, thick pick tongue lopping out of her mouth and hanging between her teeth  \n\\\u003eHow can someone simultaneously be hot and cold?  \n\"I-I guess I did something stupid by coming out here... without a plan or anything. Getting myself involved in God knows what.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Yeah but if ya think about it, it wasn't all that bad.\" She nudges you with her shoulder. \"You got to meet me. And you got some funny pictures.\"  \n\"Yeah but I only got like a handful.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Three good ones from what I saw.\"  \n\\\u003eShit, she's right  \n\\\u003eYou thumb through your photos again, and stop when you get to Jesse choking on water  \n\\\u003eYou can see the artistic value there -- it's kind of a statement, right?  \n\\\u003eThe plight of-  \n\\\u003e\"Hey Anon, can I ask you a favor?\"  \n\\\u003eProbably a good thing that Jesse cut off your pseudo-intellectual ravings  \n\"Sure, what's up?\"  \n\\\u003e\"C-Can you...\" she points at the camera. \"Can you take some more photos of me? I ain't never had a photo taken of me before you come along.\"  \n\\\u003e...  \n\"Seriously?\"  \n\\\u003e\"C'mon!\" She throws her hands up in the air. \"You think we got photo people out here? You're probably the only person in miles with an actual camera. C'mon, I wanna be famous,\" she says  \n\\\u003eYou think for a second, holding the camera at chest level  \n\\\u003eShould you really be doing this right now?  \n\\\u003eWhat, with being hunted down and all  \n\\\u003eFor ambiguous reasons  \n\\\u003eFuck it  \n\"Jesse, before I do this, I have questions I need answered.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Questions?\" She tilts her head. \"What kinda questions?\"  \n\"Why?\"  \n\\\u003e\"Why what?\"  \n\"No, that's my question. Why are we being hunted? Why me? What's this all about?\"  \n\\\u003e\"Oh, right.\" Her tone slowly deflates as her eyes lower  \n\\\u003eShe digs her feet into the trampled dirt  \n\\\u003eA warm summer breeze cuts through the stalks  \n\\\u003eIt lightly tosses the shag of her fur  \n\\\u003e\"It's easier when I tell it like this: you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Thems two fucktards and their buddies and everyone they 'work' with? They all got their ideas mixed 'round. They think you're some kinda city reporter here to crack open their meth operation they run outta the diner.\"  \n\\\u003e\"But I'm not. I'm not a reporter. I'm,\" you clench your fists, \"just a dumb fucking college kid. I'm not capable of even turning in a school project on time, let alone busting open a drug operation.\"  \n\\\u003eJesse puckers her cheeks up and launches a wad of spit across the field  \n\\\u003e\"I told you, they're too fuckin' stupid to understand that. I'm pretty stupid myself, but these two make even me seem like I could go to college. Like you.\"  \n\"It's not that hard,\" you say, though you're not speaking loud enough for her to hear you  \n\"There's only two sides in this shitheap town of ours,\" she continues, \"Mammals on crank and mammals makin' it. There ain't no room for a third.\" She turns her head to face you, her eyes heavy  \n\\\u003e\"That means you.\"  \n\\\u003eOf course it means you  \n\\\u003eOtherwise they wouldn't be out looking for you  \n\"It's so funny.\" You stand up and shake your head lightly. \"I remember waking up in the diner from the strangest dream. One where you and I both died. I hope it's not prophetic.\"  \n\\\u003e\"How'd we bite it?\" She stands up with you and stretches out her spindly arms  \n\\\u003eA yawn that morphs into a near-howl escapes her  \n\\\u003eYou won't admit it, but your eyes are drawn to her smooth and shiny coat, especially her stomach  \n\\\u003eThe minute she looks over at you, you pry your eyes off her glossy coat and force them back onto the camera  \n\\\u003eYou click through a number of shots of potato chips and floor tiles that Jesse obviously took while she was in the bathroom  \n\\\u003eThen one catches your eye  \n\\\u003eIt's a selfie of Jesse, the last on the roll  \n\\\u003eShe's smiling wide, her eyes are half shut, teeth polished and clean  \n\\\u003e...  \n\\\u003eYou feel sick to your stomach  \n\\\u003eYou can't believe you were going to ditch her back there in the bathroom  \n\\\u003eAfter she stuck out her neck (literally) for you  \n\\\u003eAre you really scum, and she is the perfect center of the universe?  \n\\\u003eNo  \n\\\u003eShe has to be getting something out of this  \n\\\u003eBut what?  \n\\\u003eYou open your mouth to ask, but catch yourself  \n\\\u003eHer eyes are sparkling as you wield your camera about   \n\\\u003eIt's not love, or affection  \n\\\u003eYou look down at your screen  \n\\\u003eAnd it's on that photo you took, of Jesse's body, of Bill and Shane  \n\\\u003eYou clench your teeth  \n\\\u003eThat look is blind loyalty  \n\\\u003eShe has a reason, but maybe she doesn't know it yet  \n\\\u003e\"So? In that dream of yours?\" She begins  \n\\\u003eYou step out into the middle of the field  \n\\\u003eYou aim the camera at her, a lump swelling in your throat  \n\"Ready?\" You say, silently thanking the moon above  \n\\\u003eEverything has a bone-white glow  \n\\\u003eShe strikes a quick pose  \n\\\u003e\"Ya never answered me,\" she adds with a giggle  \n\\\u003eYou focus your lens on her  \n\\\u003eShe splays herself out against the shed in a faux dramatic pose  \n\\\u003eTonight you bury that picture  \n\\\u003eIt was just a dream  \n\\\u003eAll it was  \n\\\u003e\"How'd we die?\"  \n\\\u003eJust a dream  \n\\\u003eBut you still see her dead in a heap, blood leaking from her body  \n\\\u003eThe look on those two predator's faces  \n\\\u003eSome pain you cannot shake, real or not  \n\\\u003eSo you tell yourself  \n\\\u003eYou press the shutter  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eCrows arc into the sky  \n\\\u003eJesse lights up as your LED flash triggers, throwing her shadow on the shed behind her (even though most professionals say to never use your flash)  \n\\\u003eThe two of you watch the birds wing off against the moon, silent and as still as glaciers  \n\\\u003eThey look like shadows  \n\\\u003eAnd that's all they'll ever need to be to you  \n\\\u003eYour heart is pounding, but that's only from the noise  \n\\\u003eYou swear it's not because there's a cute anthro woman with her top off standing right in front of you  \n\\\u003eYou're startled is all  \n\\\u003e\"Did you get that one?\" She laughs. \"Because I think I had my eyes closed. Damn birds spooked me.\"  \n\\\u003eJesse hears it before you do:  \n\\\u003eThe crashing through the brush  \n\\\u003eHer ears twitch, as if jolted with electricity  \n\\\u003eHer wet nose twitches  \n\\\u003eIt's not one mammal  \n\\\u003eIt's not even two  \n\\\u003eA chorus of voices rise out of the field  \n\\\u003eCrashing, slashing, yelling, shouting and howling, the deafening approach of some someones  \n\\\u003eAnd then they fall silent, just short of your vision  \n\\\u003eYour heart pounding in your ears is the only thing you can hear, and even that becomes quiet  \n\\\u003eThe tense and push and pull of blood in your veins sends you shaking, fingers still glued to the camera  \n\\\u003eThose noises  \n\\\u003eThey came so close  \n\\\u003eAnd now they're gone  \n\\\u003eIf Hell is the absence of God, then the absence of sound is Hell's ambient volume  \n\"Jesse.\" You don't bother to lower the volume of your voice  \n\\\u003eWhat good would it do now?  \n\\\u003eShe's crouched, predatory, hunting knife in her right hand held out like an extension of her own arm  \n\\\u003eHer chest heaves  \n\\\u003eYou wish you had half of her sense of smell or hearing  \n\\\u003eThere's a snapping sound behind you  \n\\\u003eYou turn around in a flash, heart racing  \n\\\u003eYou expect to find Bill or that coyote.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Jesse?\" A timid voice squeaks  \n\\\u003eStanding at the edge of the clearing is a heeler pup, clad in a heather-blue shirt three sizes too big for her  \n\\\u003eIt reaches her ankles  \n\\\u003eOne of the pup's ears is missing, though the stump of it is still there  \n\\\u003eYou try to control your breathing, taking slow, even puffs  \n\\\u003eIt's just a pup  \n\\\u003eA pup that somehow knows... Jesse?  \n\\\u003e\"Kira?\" Jesse lowers her knife. \"Kira what the hell are you doing out here? And why don't you smell right?\"  \n\\\u003e\"Jesse!\" She cuts loose with a triumphant cry  \n\\\u003eThe little heeler pup bounds forward through the clearing  \n\\\u003eShe blurs right past you, paying you no mind  \n\\\u003eInstead, she leaps through the air, catching Jesse at the waist  \n\\\u003eThe pup throws her arms around Jesse and squeals with joy, eyes pinched shut  \n\\\u003eJesse absorbs the force of what must be her kin by bracing against the shed  \n\\\u003eYou just stand there, dumbstruck  \n\\\u003eThe sound of rustling in the corn stirs your attention  \n\\\u003eYou see... shapes...  \n\\\u003eShadows drifting among the stalks  \n\\\u003eBut the closer you look, the better you're able to piece together their features  \n\\\u003eShort, Salt-and-pepper fur with a coarse top coat  \n\\\u003eLong muzzle slightly parted in apprehension  \n\\\u003eThin, athletic frames  \n\\\u003eLong, silvery tails with another healthy coating of fur  \n\\\u003eLight blue eyes glimmering in the moonlight, the color of glacial cores  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003e\"Come on out, we found her!\" Kira shrieks, unable to keep the excitement from exploding out of her  \n\\\u003eShe channels her excess into her swiftly fanning tail, which is beating like the outboard motor of a boat  \n\\\u003eYou swear, she could probably fly with that thing  \n\\\u003eJesse claps her palm over Kira's mouth and issues a sharp hush  \n\\\u003e\"Kira, I need ya' ta' hush up listen very closely, okay?\" She says  \n\\\u003eKira nods excitedly  \n\\\u003e\"Who all is looking for me?\" Jesse casts her wary gaze about the corn field  \n\\\u003eShe slowly lifts her palm from Kira's mouth  \n\\\u003eYou can see the older heeler's muscles tensing  \n\\\u003eNot to run, but to fight off anything that might want to hurt her kin  \n\\\u003e\"Well let's see... There's Cody and Jessup and Wyatt and Claire and Laurabell and Mildred! We all come to find you when you didn't come home,\" Kira says  \n\\\u003eThe shapes in the corn step forward into the moonlight  \n\\\u003eIt's as you expected  \n\\\u003eHeelers  \n\\\u003eLots and lots of heelers  \n\\\u003eEach one of them just at the fringes of the clearing  \n\\\u003eEach one of them eyeing you warily, none of them stepping too close to you  \n\\\u003eThey all look about Kira's age and size, except one, who's probably a few years older  \n\\\u003eShe's nearly Jesse's size  \n\\\u003eShe locks eyes with you and scowls, her fangs shimmering  \n\\\u003e\"Jesse!\" The heeler says, jabbing a clawed finger at you. \"What's with the human?\"  \n\\\u003eShe starts forward  \n\\\u003eHer claws look like black razors at the tips of her fingers.  \n\\\u003e\"Is he with you?\"  \n\\\u003eYou ready your camera in case you need to blind her  \n\\\u003e\"Laura, Laura,\" Jesse peels away from Kira and races to your side. \"Let off the gas girl, he's fine.\"  \n\\\u003e'Laura' stops just short of you, still letting a growl roll out of her chest  \n\\\u003eJesse takes you by the hand  \n\\\u003eYou feel her thumb gently smoothing over your sweaty fingers  \n\\\u003eIt starts to calm you, soothes your rapid heart like an organic benzo  \n\\\u003e\"Christ babygirl, ya' can't just fly off the handle like that anymore,\" Jesse says in a lecturing voice \"I thought I learned you better.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Well I'm sorry,\" Laura throws you a sideways glance. \"First you go missing and we gotsta come find you, and then we find you half-naked in a field with a human?\"  \n\\\u003eThe way she says 'human' sounds like she was spitting poison from her mouth  \n\\\u003e\"Everyone just cool it,\" Jesse says, addressing the now circle of heelers who've closed in around you. \"This here is Anon, and he's my friend. And he's-\"  \n\\\u003eLaura takes a quick step back, wide-eyed  \n\\\u003e\"Jesse, is this him?\" She gasps  \n\"What do you mean? I'm me-\"  \n\\\u003eAnother voice cuts you off: Kira's  \n\\\u003e\"Yeah Jesse is he the one?\"  \n\\\u003eWith one swift motion you free your sweaty hand of Jesse's grip  \n\"What the hell are they talking about?\" You say  \n\\\u003e\"A-Anon listen, we can talk 'bout this later, okay?\"  \n\\\u003eNO  \n\\\u003eTHIS IS EVEN WORSE THAN NEARLY GETTING STABBED OR SHOT BY THE COYOTE AND THE CROCODILE  \n\\\u003e\"Keep yer' voice down, all of you,\" Jesse hisses. \"Ya'll shouldn't have come out here lookin' for us.\"  \n\\\u003e\"We had to,\" Laura says, eyeing you up and down. \"Mamma and Pa didn't come home last night.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Shit,\" Jesse says with all the cadence of a deflating kickball  \n\\\u003eHer tired head droops  \n\\\u003e\"Alright, alright. I promise everyone, I'll answer all of ya'll's questions later, okay?\" She lifts her eyes and smiles at you. \"I'll do my best to tell you everythin'. But we can't stay here. Not right now.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Yeah, we heard,\" Kira says. \"You gone and really made the boys mad now.\"  \n\\\u003eThe precocious pup wraps her tiny fingers around your own and gives a gentle tug  \n\\\u003eYou watch as she appraises you, as if deciding for herself that you're a rational, intelligent mammal, just like herself  \n\\\u003e\"'Course I did,\" Jesse says, voice barely floating above a quiet, somber prayer  \n\\\u003eLaura grabs Kira and pulls her away from you despite the heeler's indignant protests  \n\\\u003e\"Well, come on then,\" Laura says, cradling Kira close. The older mammal locks her steady eyes with yours. \"We best get home before someone less pleasant than Kira finds us.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eJesse's house is...  \n\\\u003eWell it's certainly not what you're used to  \n\\\u003eSee, you live in a nice, cushy dorm out in school  \n\\\u003eEverything's wrapped in plastic and bubblewrap for you  \n\\\u003eChrist, you even have a dining hall so you don't have to cook anything beyond microwaving popcorn  \n\\\u003eJesse's house is the antithesis of the college experience:  \n\\\u003eIt's the embodiment of everything your chiding liberal arts professors say you should have compassion for  \n\\\u003eIt's ground zero for poverty in America  \n\\\u003eThe minute you enter, you feel a deep sense of brokenness, even as you're swarmed by malnourished heeler pups picking at your clothes and grabbing at any exposed skins  \n\\\u003eYou sink into a ratty arm chair in the family room while all the noises of poverty whip themselves up into a hurricane in your ears:  \n\\\u003eUnattended pups  \n\\\u003eAngry, discordant growls, screaming  \n\\\u003eSomewhere a forgotten TV talks to itself, likely the cable news piped in from stolen wires  \n\\\u003eThe miasma cigarette smoke wafting in chunky clouds offends your senses  \n\\\u003eIt stings your eyes and nose  \n\\\u003eJesus, there must be at least three generations of heelers living here -- that's at least 16 mammals under one tiny roof  \n\\\u003eWhen you approached it on your long walk, it small from the outside, but that's because it stood alone in a pasture, just a leaning home with peeling white paint collapsing over the course of a decade  \n\\\u003eBut now that your inside, it feels even more claustrophobic  \n\\\u003eAnd warm  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eJesse appears at your side  \n\\\u003e\"Just... get comfortable here for a second. I gotta go take care of something in the basement.\"  \n\"Am I sitting in someone's bed?\" You ask  \n\\\u003eFigured you'd move if you were  \n\\\u003eIt's getting late so maybe someone is trying to get some sleep around here, despite the noise  \n\\\u003e\"I-I know it's not the fanciest place,\" she stutters, a touch of embarrassed red heat peeking through her dark fur, \"but it's home for now. Just sit tight. I'll be right back.\"  \n\\\u003eYou open your mouth to say something, but she's already gliding easily through the milling crowds of her kin  \n\\\u003eYou watch her descend a set of stairs into what must be the basement  \n\\\u003eThere seems to be a hierarchy  \n\\\u003eThe pups all gather around you, the lone oddity in the house, wide-eyed, tales wagging, jockeying for a spot  \n\\\u003eThey fire off questions a mile a minute, which you try to answer, growing more and more tired with each incessant yip  \n\\\u003eYou see where Jesse gets her spunk from  \n\\\u003eThe older heelers hang out near the fringes of the group, leaning their wiry bodies against walls or supporting beams  \n\\\u003eLaurabell is among them  \n\\\u003eThis caste hasn't said anything to you since you got here, but they've been watching you in between lungfuls of cigarette smoke  \n\\\u003eAs if they're waiting for you to slip up, hurt one of the pups, or say something out of line  \n\\\u003eAnd everywhere light blue eyes trained on you, glimmering from dark corners or stairwells  \n\\\u003eYou sit up in the chair  \n\\\u003eIt sags under your weight  \n\\\u003eThe minute you stand up, the older heelers, -- Laurabell in particular --\u0026nbsp; peel off the walls  \n\\\u003eYou're starting to figure it out: you're not getting out of here unless Jesse escorts you out  \n\"What's Jesse doing?\" You ask  \n\\\u003eChrist you can feel one of the heeler pups trying to get into your camera bag  \n\\\u003eYou gently pull it closer to your body  \n\\\u003e\"She's busy,\" Laura says rather coldly  \n\\\u003eShe digs her claws into her unkempt fur and scratches an itch, still maintaining eye contact with you  \n\\\u003eA challenge  \n\"Can I go talk to her? I have some questions for her.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Didn't you hear her?\" Laura snaps at you. \"She said to get comfy here.\" The heeler nods towards the chair you were just sitting in  \n\\\u003e\"So do what Jesse says and there won't be problems.\"  \n\\\u003eRight  \n\\\u003eYou ease yourself back into the chair without a retort  \n\\\u003eDon't want problems, not when you're severely outnumbered  \n\\\u003e\"Don't worry 'bout Laurabell,\" you hear a familiar voice to the right of you  \n\\\u003eYou look down  \n\\\u003eKira peers up at you, her eyes shimmering with curiosity  \n\\\u003eYou peel your eyes away from the stump of her right ear  \n\\\u003eHopefully she didn't notice you staring  \n\\\u003e\"She's just mad 'cause she don't like outsiders.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Outsider and a human,\" Laura takes a long pull on her smoke. \"Ain't no good gonna come of this. Mark my words.\"  \n\\\u003eThe older heeler peels herself off the wall and wanders deeper into the house  \n\\\u003eKira climbs up on the couch arm, her nose wrinkling  \n\\\u003e\"You smell good,\" she says, her eyes half shut. \"Do all humans smell like candy?\"  \n\"I don't know about that,\" you say, now acutely aware how obvious your scent must be to all of them. \"I don't know what humans smell like. Our ears and noses aren't as good as yours.\"  \n\\\u003e\"Ear,\" Kira says, matter-of-factly. She points to the stump of her ear. \"I only gots one ear.\"  \n\"Ah, yeah, my mistake.\"  \n\\\u003eKira leans in uncomfortably close  \n\\\u003e\"Ma clipped it off when I was gettin' into the shop downstairs,\" she says in an excited whisper  \n\\\u003eWait, downstairs?  \n\\\u003eYou grab Kira by the waist and lift her off the couch and back onto the floor  \n\"Is that what's down there? Is there some kind of shop in the basement?\"  \n\\\u003e\"Sure is! Jesse and Ma and Pa take care of it. They don't want us goin' down there, but I did, and-\"  \n\"What kind of shop is it? What do they sell?\"  \n\\\u003eKira stares up at you with a wide-eyed expression, mouth working, but no sound coming out  \n\\\u003e\"I dunno!\" She says at last. \"It just smells real bad down there sometimes an' we can't go down there.\"  \n\\\u003eYou're about to ask her another question when a Jesse appears out of nowhere and scoops Kira up in her arms  \n\\\u003e\"Kira, you botherin' Anon here?\" She says, stroking the pup's fur  \n\\\u003e\"Nah-uh, we was talkin' is all!\" Kira squeals. \"I wasn' botherin' him none!\"  \n\\\u003eJesse plops Kira down on the floor  \n\\\u003e\"Now run along, alright? Anon and I got some stuff we need to talk about,\" Jesse says  \n\\\u003eKira opens her mouth to say something, but screws her mouth up tight when her older sister flashes her a stern look  \n\\\u003eKira bounds off, quickly lost in the shuffle of anthros, like a small wanderer in a forest of redwood trees  \n\\\u003e\"Come on now, let's get somewhere...\" She drifts off  \n\\\u003eshe tugs at her collar and looks around  \n\\\u003eHer wide pink tongue lops out of her mouth  \n\\\u003eBeads of saliva roll of its surface  \n\"Let's get somewhere quieter. Less mammals,\" you say, already rising out of the chair  \n\\\u003eJesse nods and issues a weak smile  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eYou end up in what must be her parents' old room  \n\\\u003eIt's the only one not buzzing with activity  \n\\\u003eThere's a large, unmade bed in the center of the room, the impressions of two bodies pressed into the sheets  \n\\\u003eAnnnndd not much else  \n\\\u003eClean or dirty, all of their clothes are corralled into a few laundry baskets or crusty piles  \n\\\u003eThankfully, there's an open window, carrying in drafts like puffs of air from heaven  \n\\\u003eYou two sit on the floor by the window, facing one another, outlined in the moonlight  \n\\\u003eShe stares hard at you, trying to decode your exhausted expression, looking -- like any desperate mammal would -- for something lurking beneath the surface  \n\\\u003eShe wants there to be a deeper meaning -- something that you know that she doesn't  \n\\\u003eBut there isn't  \n\\\u003eYou're just... lost  \n\\\u003eNo ulterior motive beyond surviving the night and escaping back to civilization in the morning  \n\\\u003eNo deeper meaning  \n\\\u003eYou've got no shark beneath the waves  \n\\\u003eBut she does  \n\\\u003eNo need to broach the subject  \n\\\u003eJust go in for the kill  \n\\\u003eYou're done waiting  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"It'd be awfully kind of you to start explaining some stuff to me,\" you start. \"What did your family mean when they said 'Is this him'?\"  \n\\\u003eYou're starting to feel like you're being used for something  \n\\\u003e\"That'll come later tonight, I promise.\"  \n\"No. Not later. Not in the future. Now.\"   \n\\\u003eShe nods  \n\\\u003e\"I can sense yer frustrated and confused right now. But if you just hush and listen-\"  \n\"Back there in the diner, in the bathroom, do you remember what you said?\"  \n\\\u003e\"I... I don't think so,\" she says, raising an eyebrow. \"Do you remember what happened back there?\"  \n\"I... I remember lots of things. Things that I shouldn't remember. Things like dreams that don't feel like dreams. That sorta stuff. In the bathroom, with a knife to your throat, you told Bill that you didn't know where I was.\"  \n\\\u003e\"What's your point?\"  \n\"The point is, you knew exactly where I was. Why'd you lie? Were you trying to get killed?\"  \n\\\u003eSilence  \n\\\u003eWell, relative silence  \n\\\u003eThe chaotic din of the house is only muffled by floorboards  \n\\\u003eShe throws her head to the side  \n\\\u003e\"What the hell kind of questions are those?\" She asks, her voice a low hiss  \n\"Because I need to know why you'd die for me.\"  \n\\\u003e\"What?\" She looks taken aback - hurt. \"I don't-\"  \n\"If I didn't save you, you'd have a knife in your throat.\"  \n\\\u003eShe flinches back, and, consciously or unconsciously, she places a hand lightly at the hollow of her throat -- right where the knife would have plunged  \n\\\u003eYou feel your voice rising in tandem with your frustration, glowing red hot in the center of your chest  \n\\\u003eMaybe you're just tired, bereft of the gravity of sleep drifting in some vacuum where only your wants and needs exist  \n\\\u003eSovereign  \n\\\u003eOr maybe this is the right thing to do  \n\\\u003eFuck it  \n\"So I ask again, why am I so important to you? I barely even know you.\"  \n\\\u003e...  \n\\\u003eShe's not saying anything  \n\\\u003eShe just looks...  \n\\\u003eDefeated  \n\\\u003eShe's dropped her head into her lap  \n\\\u003eHer ears are plastered against her skull, and her tail is flat on the floor  \n\\\u003eBlood thrums loud in your ears  \n\\\u003eYour heart beats one step ahead of your feet, it seems  \n\\\u003eBut you're not going to apologize  \n\\\u003eYou really, really need to know  \n\\\u003eAnd who cares? After tonight you'll never see her again  \n\\\u003eShe lifts her tired eyes to yours  \n\\\u003e\"Not everyone who needs saving knows they need it.\"  \n\\\u003eShe steadies her gaze  \n\\\u003e\"You want the honest-to-Jesus truth? All you gotta do is look around you. What do you see?\"  \n\\\u003eYou slowly pan around the room  \n\\\u003eIt's... well... it's a room  \n\\\u003eDisheveled and filthy, but a room nonetheless  \n\"What am I looking for?\"  \n\\\u003e\"You really don't see it? Hear it? Feel it?\"  \n\\\u003eShe pulls her knees tight against her body and hooks her arms together  \n\"No, I just see a shitty room. Can you get to the point?\"  \n\\\u003e\"I'm trynna explain this in a way we can understand -- why I need you to help me.\"  \n\"Well I appreciate you risking your neck for me, but you really don't have to do anything. Next plan of action, I say, is we wait out here, and when dawn breaks, I hop on the bus outside the diner.\"  \n\\\u003eShe turns her head to the side and fixes her blue eyes on the moon  \n\\\u003e\"You ever have dreams? Because I have a dream almost every night.\"  \n\\\u003e\"And in that dream,\" she continues, \"I always bite it. Shot in the back. Stuck in my guts. Hit by a car. Something always gets me. And every night... every night I have this dream over and over again. Sometimes when I wake up, I don't even know I'm awake. I'll check my body for bullet holes. I'll start hollerin' if it's a really bad one. My family hates it.\"  \n\\\u003eShe chuckles lightly  \n\\\u003e\"Lately I've started to feel like I'm in... in a dream that repeats itself, over and over and over again. Every day is the same, and even the nightmares are startin' to run together. I'm just stuck, is all. So when you showed up, I thought you could change something 'round here. Be the answer I needed.\"  \n\\\u003eHuh  \n\\\u003eDreams that feel real?  \n\\\u003eWhat the hell is she on abou-  \n\\\u003e\"You ever have dreams like that?\"  \n\\\u003eWithout thinking, you nod slowly  \n\\\u003e\"I thought you did. I could tell the minute I met you.\"  \n\\\u003eHer form sags as she rests her chin on her knees  \n\\\u003eHer eyes start to fall, pulled down the weight of the day  \n\\\u003e\"Can I ask you about those dreams?\" Jesse says wistfully. \"The ones that don't feel like yer dreamin?\"  \n\\\u003eShe sounds exhausted  \n\"Why?\"  \n\\\u003e\"Because,\" she yawns. \"Our ride is coming in tonight and I need something to keep me up  \n\\\u003eOUR RIDE?!  \n\\\u003eYou're getting out of here sooner than you thought!  \n\\\u003eYou check the clock on the night stand  \n\\\u003eIt's exactly 11:00 p.m.  \n\"Sure,\" you say, excitement settling into your chest, lighting up your nerves. \"You're not the type that thinks dreams have any deeper meaning, right?\"  \n\\\u003e\"Guess it depends on the dream.\"  \n\\\u003eYou hope she's wrong  \n\\\u003eDreams can't be prophetic  \n\\\u003eThey're just dreams  \n\"What if I told you I had a dream with you in it?\"  \n\\\u003eShe raises an eyebrow  \n\\\u003e\"What kinda dream?\" She playfully nudges you with her elbow as her tail spins up. \"Anything 'fun' happen in that dream?\"  \n\\\u003eYou feel a touch of color grace your cheeks  \n\\\u003eGod sometimes she's too forward  \n\"No, nothing like that,\" you shake your head. \"Actually, the opposite.\"  \n\\\u003eAnd you can't remember much more than Jesse's death, besides the two mammals who did the killing  \n\\\u003eYou don't want to admit it, but you've come to have a modicum of respect for her, so you refrain from telling her the crux of the dream -- the part where she's shot dead by the carnivores  \n\\\u003eShe's given you her home, and almost gave you her life  \n\\\u003eMaybe her reasoning is a little misguided, but that's okay  \n\\\u003eWhen you get out of this town, what if she came with you?  \n\\\u003eGah, don't be a dumbass  \n\\\u003eShe can't. Where would she even stay?  \n\\\u003eMaybe there's some other way of 'saving her' that doesn't involve bringing her from her home?  \n\\\u003eIf you could even call it that  \n\"That dream really got to me. It felt so visceral. So real. I swear to God, it happened,\" you say. \"When I woke up I was in the diner again. I swear I smuggled a picture out of that dream.\"  \n\\\u003eWait  \n\\\u003eThe picture!  \n\\\u003eYou could show her again, explain the dream to her  \n\\\u003eHow you shouldn't have this picture to begin with  \n\\\u003e...  \n\\\u003eBut why?  \n\\\u003eWhy dig in to that?  \n\\\u003eYou swore you'd bury it, and you intend to keep that promise to yourself  \n\\\u003eJesse jolts upwards, eyes shot wide as she peers out the open window  \n\\\u003eYou follow her gaze  \n\\\u003eA pair of headlights is rumbling towards the house, cleaving a path through the encroaching darkness  \n\\\u003e\"That's it,\" she says, and you can't help but notice the slow cadence of her voice, like a funeral procession  \n\\\u003eYou stand up and ease away from the window  \n\"Is it them? Did they find us?\"  \n\\\u003e\"No,\" she looks up at you with a weak, half smile. \"That's your ride out of here.\"  \n\\\u003e...  \n\\\u003eIs this real?  \n\\\u003eThis is so sudden  \n\"How come you didn't tell me about this earlier? I didn't know you had a way to get us out of here.\"  \n\\\u003e\"C'mon Anon, you gotta go. They're waiting for us outside.\" She nods towards the door  \n\\\u003eYou pause  \n\"So that's it, isn't it?\" You whisper  \n\\\u003e\"What's it?\"  \n\\\u003eThe car idles outside, you can hear its heavy engine thrumming and sucking down gasoline  \n\"I guess this is goodbye.\"  \n\\\u003eShe stands up  \n\\\u003e\"Not quite. I'll see you off.\" She grabs you by the arm and starts to lead you downstairs  \n\\\u003eThe mood downstairs is... different  \n\\\u003eEveryone comes to a standstill when they see Jesse descending the stairs with you in tow   \n\\\u003eFor whatever stupid, bullshit sentimental reason, you feel a lump bulging in your throat  \n\\\u003eYou're getting emotional? Over this?  \n\\\u003eLike you said earlier, you barely know this mammal  \n\\\u003eSo sack up, pussy  \n\\\u003eYou swallow hard, like you understand what's happening  \n\\\u003eKira follows closely behind you guys as you approach the front door, which is a screen door hanging just barely on its hinges  \n\\\u003eJesse doesn't seem to notice her younger sibling following in your clumsy footsteps  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eYou're standing on the porch, Jesse at your left, Kira at your right  \n\\\u003eThe headlights from the truck that's pulled up to the house blind you, so you throw up a skinny arm over your eyes, leaving just enough room to squint at the truck  \n\\\u003e\"Ready Anon?\" Jesse asks in a somber voice. \"Ready to get out of here?\"  \n\"Who's taking me home? Friends of yours?\"  \n\\\u003eHer grip on your arm tightens  \n\\\u003eShe doesn't answer  \n\\\u003eGod she must really be broken up about you leaving  \n\\\u003eShe wanted you to save her, right?  \n\\\u003eWake her up from the dream she's been living in?  \n\\\u003eYou turn to face her  \n\"Why don't you come with me?\"  \n\\\u003eOne, last, final effort  \n\\\u003eShe points her eyes forward, fixed on the idling truck  \n\\\u003eShe won't even look you in the eyes before you go?  \n\\\u003e\"I can't go with you,\" she says at last  \n\"Why not?\"  \n\\\u003eThe passenger side door to the truck opens with a rusted creak  \n\\\u003eYou turn your head back to see who's going to be taking you across the state on nothing but the goodness of their hearts  \n\\\u003eA crocodile steps out of the cab and into the headlights  \n\\\u003eA bolt action .22 rests in the crook of his arms  \n\\\u003eYour heart sinks  \n\\\u003eJesse's grip tightens  \n\\\u003eYou recognize that gator  \n\\\u003eBill  \n\\\u003eHe smirks that ugly, hateful grin that will forever be etched into the crevices of your skull  \n\\\u003e\"Hey there, Jesse.\"\n\n\"What- what's going?\" You try to take a step back\n\n\\\u003eJesse holds you in place, her feral claws digging deep into your skin\n\n\\\u003e\"You know,\" Bill starts to load his .22, \"for a dog, yer' not very loyal. One phonecall's all it took.\"  \n\\\u003eHe yanks back on the bolt and chambers a round  \n\\\u003e\"I did my part of the deal,\" she says, voice simmering into a low growl. \"Now hold up your end and leave my family alone.\"  \n\"So that's how it's gonna be?\" Your arms and legs feel numb, as if submerged in glacial creeks  \n\"This whole thing was just an act, wasn't it?\"  \n\\\u003eIt all starts adding up in your head, the realization hitting like a baseball bat to the face  \n\\\u003e'Be the answer I needed'  \n\\\u003e'Is this him?'  \n\\\u003e'Later tonight'  \n\\\u003e\"No sudden moves, Anonymous,\" she says, still glaring straight ahead, eyes fixed on Bill -- or more closely, his gun  \n\\\u003eA vicious wind whips itself up  \n\\\u003eIt pushes Jesse's fur up  \n\\\u003eYou can tell she meant that apology  \n\\\u003eIt doesn't sound like she wants to do this  \n\\\u003e\"You're going to leave my family alone?\" She shouts, voice barely arcing above the roaring of the wind  \n\\\u003eBill sets his rifle down into the dirt. \"You did yer' part bringing us the reporter.\"  \n\\\u003eHOW  \n\\\u003eMANY  \n\\\u003eTIMES  \n\\\u003eMUST  \n\\\u003eIT  \n\\\u003eBE  \n\\\u003eSAID  \n\"I'm not a reporter!\" you cry. \"For fuck sake Jesse, don't do this!\"  \n\\\u003eBut it falls on deaf ears  \n\\\u003eJesse pushes you forward with impressive strength  \n\\\u003eYou stumble off the porch, landing face first into the scrub grass and dirt  \n\\\u003eYour camera bag swings out in front of you and absorbs the brunt of the impact  \n\\\u003eEverything feels...  \n\\\u003eNumb  \n\\\u003eYou close your eyes and internally admit defeat  \n\\\u003eYou got played, used  \n\\\u003eIn a way, you really did save Jesse  \n\\\u003eIt sounds like you paid off some kind of debt for her  \n\\\u003eBut now there's the small matter of your mortal coil  \n\\\u003eYou don't want to die  \n\\\u003eFuck it, you could rush Bill  \n\\\u003eBut he's a croc  \n\\\u003eAnd a big one at that  \n\\\u003eHe could probably tear you apart with his claws alone  \n\\\u003eTimes like these you wish you were a bear or a lion  \n\\\u003eYou clench your teeth  \n\\\u003eThis is all her fault, whether or not she wants to do this  \n\\\u003eShe saw an opportunity and took it  \n\\\u003eYeah?  \n\\\u003eWell so do you  \n\\\u003eOne last act of defiance  \n\\\u003eYou roll over in the dirt to face Jesse...  \n\\\u003e...Who stands statuesque against the tempest  \n\\\u003eBut in the light, you can tell she's crying  \n\\\u003eGood  \n\"Hey Jesse?!\" You cry, scoring your own throat with the volume  \n\\\u003eYou can feel the venom dripping off your voice  \n\\\u003eShe looks down at you, practically an emotional wreck  \n\\\u003eGod she really doesn't want to do this  \n\\\u003eFuck her  \n\\\u003eShe made her choice  \n\\\u003eAnd though it won't mean much, this'll make you feel better  \n\\\u003eYou hope she'll dream about this every night  \n\"In that dream I had about you?\"  \n\"You died.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eJesse's mouth drops open to say something, the start of an apology  \n\\\u003eThere's a tremendous noise, louder than anything you've ever heard in your life  \n\\\u003eJesse stumbles backwards in a spray of blood, bracing herself against the pillars of the porch  \n\\\u003eKira rushes to Jesse's side  \n\\\u003e\"SISSY!\" Her tiny screams are whisked away by the wind  \n\\\u003eJesse looks down at her stomach, palm pressed over her seething wound  \n\\\u003eShe lifts her bloodied paw to the moonlight, turns it over, and then presses it lightly against her guts  \n\\\u003eHer legs start to tremble  \n\\\u003eShe locks eyes with you, tears streaming down her face, cutting clean lines through her scruff  \n\\\u003e\"I'm sorry,\" she says with a cough of blood. \"I just wanted to protect my fami-\"  \n\\\u003eAnother bullet catches her in the chest, knocking her off her feet  \n\\\u003eHer limp body slams into the siding of the house  \n\\\u003eShe ends up on her side  \n\\\u003eThe raspy sound of blood and air churning together in her lungs, combined with Kira's shrieks flood your veins with concrete  \n\\\u003eYou want to move, but can't tear your eyes from Jesse's body  \n\\\u003eAnd from Kira, tugging at her arm  \n\\\u003eAnd then the dam bursts  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eLegions of heelers rush from the house like a horde of feral wolves  \n\\\u003eIt occurs to you, while watching an enraged pack of canines spill from that shitheap of a house, that you're between them and their prey  \n\\\u003eAnd you can hear Bill loading another shot  \n\\\u003eAnon: between an unstoppable force and an immovable object, about to be pulverized into primitive particles  \n\\\u003eBill shouts something, but you can't hear him  \n\\\u003eYou jump to your feet and tear off towards the house  \n\\\u003eWhy the house?  \n\\\u003eBecause, it may be boarded up plywood, it's still cover  \n  \n\\\u003eAnother shot rings out  \n\\\u003eA car door slams  \n\\\u003eAnother gruff voice joins the fray  \n\\\u003eMore shots  \n\\\u003eThe sound of frenzied screaming, whimpers, the guttural roar of a crocodile  \n\\\u003eIt's all behind you as you ascend the porch steps  \n\\\u003eYou throw open the door to the house  \n\\\u003eIt's dark inside, and were it not for the moonlight, it'd be pitch black  \n\\\u003eBut your eyes are drawn to something: Kira is standing by the basement door, shaking like a leaf  \n\\\u003eWhen her sensitive eyes lock onto you, she throws herself at you  \n\\\u003eOh God  \n\\\u003eKira's covered in blood up to her elbows  \n\\\u003eHer tiny body collides with your leg, like a small boat crashing into a cruise liner   \n\\\u003e\"Anon, you're going to protect us right?\" She says, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes  \n\\\u003e\"Jesse said you were going ta' save all of us.\"  \n\\\u003eAnother gunshot  \n\\\u003eYou reflexively curl your body over hers  \n\\\u003eKira claps her palms over her ear  \n\\\u003eThe sound of glass shattering draws your attention  \n\\\u003eIts pitched staccato is sharp against your ears; your heartbeat goes tumbling again  \n\\\u003eBecause it's glass on the other side of the house  \n\\\u003eThere was a crocodile, right?  \n\\\u003eBut what about the coyote?  \n\\\u003eHeavy footsteps pound on the kitchen floor  \n\\\u003eYou probably don't have much time  \n\\\u003eYou scoop Kira up into your arms and throw open the basement door, making sure to shut it lightly behind you as you ascend the stairs  \n\\\u003eDon't need someone following you down  \n\\\u003eThankfully the lights are on  \n\\\u003eYou flick them off as soon as you reach the bottom of the stairs of the unfinished basement  \n\\\u003eIt's like being in the skeleton of the house  \n\\\u003eSure, it's a shitty house, but at least the walls were finished and coated in drywall  \n\\\u003eThis is just wood and concrete down here  \n\\\u003eOh  \n\\\u003eAnd the meth lab  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eMeth labs don't look like you thought they would  \n\\\u003eit's just a series of card tables and plastic buckets, discarded bottles, glass jars and clear plastic tubing standing tall like polluted forests on top of the tables  \n\\\u003eBut man  \n\\\u003eThere's a lot of it  \n\\\u003eAnd to make matters worse, there's absolutely no ventilation down here  \n\\\u003eThe air instantly feels heavier than usual  \n\\\u003eWetter, weighed down with noxious chemicals in the process of becoming something eviler than their constituent parts  \n\\\u003eKira struggles out of your arms  \n\\\u003e\"Jesse says I ain't allowed down here!\" She squeaks  \n\\\u003eYou hush her as quietly as possible  \n\"Kira, we need to be really quiet, okay?\" you say, perhaps a little too loudly  \n\\\u003eYou kill the lights in the basement and push Kira towards the corner of the room  \n\\\u003eShe ducks under a card table, shaking it as she does so  \n\\\u003eAn open jar of fluid spills all over her head  \n\\\u003eThe foul-smelling liquid soaks into her fur  \n\\\u003eSHIT  \n\\\u003eIt smells like gasoline  \n\\\u003eThen you hear a sound worse than gunshots  \n\\\u003eThe sound of creaking wood  \n\\\u003eOf footsteps above you, isolated from din of chaos  \n\\\u003eHow can it be so loud outside, ripe with gunshots and death, and yet so painfully quiet inside this house?  \n\\\u003eYou'd rather have needles slammed into your ears then listen to the squeal of ratted floorboards   \n\\\u003eThey move further and further away from you  \n\\\u003eYou breathe a sigh of relief  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eAnd then the door to the basement squeals open  \n\\\u003eA silhouette looms at the top of the stairs, impossibly dark against the darkness of the house  \n\\\u003eShadows on shadows  \n\\\u003eIt all comes flooding back to you, the images from that dream  \n\\\u003eThey return in fractals  \n\\\u003eDigitride feet  \n\\\u003eEars like black knives standing atop a predatory skull  \n\\\u003eThe silhouette starts down the stairs, an oblong shape dangling in its limp right hand  \n\\\u003eMight be a bottle of some kind  \n\\\u003eIt leans heavy against the walls as it descends, until at last it stands at the bottom of the stairs  \n\\\u003eIts breathing is heavy and ragged, like its throat was shot and lungs collapsed  \n\\\u003eYou see its free hand go to its gut  \n\\\u003e...  \n\\\u003eIs that... Jesse?  \n\\\u003eCouldn't be  \n\\\u003eYou saw her bleeding on the porch  \n\\\u003eWhoever it is, doesn't look like they know you're here  \n\\\u003eThat's for the best  \n\\\u003eWithout warning, Kira crawls out from under the table and starts forward  \n\\\u003eYou catch her by the arm  \n\\\u003e\"It's Jesse!\" She says in a hush \"I can smell her. She always smells like cars.\"   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eThe silhouette draws its hand away from its stomach  \n\\\u003eThe click of a flint wheel sends sparks flying into the darkness  \n\\\u003eA thin seed of flame goes up  \n\\\u003eWavering, but still holding on  \n\\\u003eYour heart catches  \n\\\u003eAn open flame? This much fuel down here?  \n\\\u003eYou need to stop this  \n\\\u003eTurns out, you don't have to  \n\\\u003eIt lifts the item in its right hand towards the flame  \n\\\u003eYou only realize what's in its hand when it catches fire  \n\\\u003eIt's a rag, stuffed in a bottle   \n\u0026nbsp;  \n\\\u003e\"I ain't your sister, sweetheart.\" The coyote -- Shane says  \n\\\u003eThe now burning rag throws the coyote's shadow against the basement wall  \n\\\u003eIt looms 10 feet above you, like a giant ready to stamp your life out  \n\\\u003eIt's then you notice that Shane's hand goes back to his gut  \n\\\u003eBlood puddles all around him  \n\\\u003eHis face, in particular in speckled in blood  \n\\\u003eAll the hard, angular features are either clawed up or slit open with glass, knives, claws, bottles  \n\\\u003eBut here he is  \n\\\u003e\"Ya' know, I almost didn't smell ya'll down here -- what with all this gas and chemicals. Normally humans light up like theys Roman candles. But I get ta' thinkin' lately--maybe there's more at work here than just ordinary mammals. Maybe it's not that I just got lucky, but that some higher power wanted me ta' find ya.\"  \n\\\u003eYou can hear the sound of claws scampering across wooden floors upstairs  \n\\\u003eSounds like there's mammals up there  \n\\\u003e\"How 'lucky' for me, to have found you right where I was fixin' to take a swig of this and breathe some smoke.\"  \n\\\u003eHis coughs a hoarse wind of blood all over your shirt  \n\\\u003eHe lifts the Molotov cocktail into the air  \n\\\u003eMore gunshots boom in the night  \n\\\u003eThink of something quick  \n\"Shane, listen. If you drop that bottle, everyone of us is going to die.\"  \n\\\u003eThe coyote's arm goes slack  \n\\\u003eBut he still holds the flaming bottle in his hand  \n\\\u003eBlood slips down his face from a gash in his forehead  \n\\\u003e\"My name...\"   \n\\\u003eHe cocks his head  \n\\\u003e\"Where'd you learn it?\"  \n\\\u003eYeah, that's a great question  \n\\\u003eWhere did you learn his name?  \n\\\u003eThink back  \n\\\u003eBecause the answer is broken, dangling from your neck  \n\\\u003eYour camera  \n\\\u003eThat 'dream' you had  \n\\\u003eFuck, this could be everyone's life here. Think of something good  \n\\\u003eDon't tell him it was a dream  \n\"Bill told me. He said you'd know when to stop. After you got Jesse.\"  \n\\\u003eLaughter rolls out of his sagging chest  \n\\\u003eThick, rib-sucking laughter  \n\\\u003e\"Jesse was only part of the move tonight,\" he says. \"You ain't been spared in Hell like we has.\"  \n\\\u003eHe locks eyes with you  \n\\\u003e\"You don't know shit.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003eThe bottle burst open at his feet  \n\\\u003eYou throw yourself on top of Kira  \n\\\u003eYour eyes slam shut  \n\\\u003eThere's a tremendous flash of heat  \n\\\u003eYou can feel it on your face  \n\\\u003eFor a fraction of a second, between heartbeats, it feels like you're facing towards the sun  \n\\\u003eAnd then the pain comes  \n  \n\\\u003eThe details of what happens next aren't important  \n\\\u003eA house's foundation practically saturated in flammable liquids?  \n\\\u003eA Molotov cocktail loaded with gasoline?  \n\\\u003eYeah, draw your own conclusions  \n\\\u003eBecause the most jarring part of all of this isn't the heat or the explosion or burning to death  \n\\\u003eIt's that fucking waitress, lording over you like she knows she's better than you are, asking:   \n\\\u003e\"Can I get you some coffee, or a pillow?\"  \n\"Just a coffee, is fine,\" you say as you sit up in your chair, blinking away the feeling that you're on fire  \n\\\u003eShe feigns delight. \"Sure. Cream, sugar?\"  \n\\\u003eThis again  \n\"Black is fine.\"  \n\\\u003eThe waitress, wearing a badge that says 'Lee Anne', gives you a polite smile that says, 'Honey you don't look like you can handle black coffee.'  \n\\\u003e\"I'll be right back,\" she says despite her doubtful smile  \n\\\u003eShe turns on a heel and saunters away  \n\\\u003eThe camera around your neck is heavy, like a millstone, its presence constant  \n\\\u003eThink, motherfucker  \n\\\u003eWhat happened wasn't a dream, that much is certain  \n\\\u003eAnd it all comes back, sharp as glass against your skin  \n\\\u003eBill and Shane  \n\\\u003eAnd most importantly  \n\\\u003eJesse  \n\\\u003eThe waitress places a ceramic mug of coffee in front of you, sharply rousing you from your daydreams  \n\\\u003eShe saunters off again without a word  \n\\\u003eDamn  \n\\\u003eYou reach for the cup, but hesitate  \n\\\u003eLast time it was practically all cream and sugar  \n\\\u003eYou look in the mug  \n\\\u003eWhat the fuck?  \n\\\u003eIt's a light brown, approaching orange   \n\\\u003eLast time it was pretty much a pearly-white  \n\\\u003eSure, you'll never be able to taste what little coffee there is in here, but that's not important  \n\\\u003eIt's different than last time  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\\\u003ePlan:  \n\\\u003eYou slam the 'coffee' down your throat  \n\\\u003eIt tastes sickly sweet, but with a hint of bitter coffee that actually kind of compliments the rest of the washed out tastes  \n\\\u003eYou power-walk your way to the door, acutely aware that you haven't paid yet  \n\\\u003eThe bell chimes above you, heralding your escape  \n\\\u003eNope  \n\\\u003eFuck this  \n\\\u003eThe door slams shut behind you  \n\\\u003eYou're done with this bullshit  \n\\\u003eYou're halfway out into the middle of the road, ready to flag down a passing car, when you hear the bell in the diner ring  \n\\\u003e\"Hey mister, what are you doing out there in the middle of the road!?  \n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"The /trash/ files","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1663702-the-pits.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1666353-the-leaves-of-fall-complete-remastered.json"}}