by Nunn, Alexis
He rubbed under his nose, “Alright, so are we doing anything in a few days? The 16th is Saturday.”
“Yeah we know, you are turning sixty. Hurrah, hurrah,” Fadiyah smirked to herself, getting it wrong to irk him.
“Forty-nine!”
“I don’t know, you look pretty old for only forty-nine,” I added to the fire.
He didn’t snap or growl, he just pulled up one side of his smile and laughed at it. He pointed a finger faux-anger towards me, “Don’t make me ground you.”
“Ah’d like tuh see you try!” I spouted, swishing my bangs to the side and letting my southeastern Hoosier heritage show. We all lived in the moment then went on to be serious.
“Bonfire,” Fadiyah stacked the dried off plates with each clinking together.
“Really? Out at night?” Robert asked, scratching his jaw.
“You know that fire scares off the werebies.”
“They’re a little close than I’d like lately,” He mentioned, not really eager on the topic.
“We know,” I sighed. Feliks running off had spread his scent back through the forest, worse than when we just scouted. His scent was mixed with adrenaline and fear; it excited the pack.
Just last night a few indistinguishable breeds of werebie were spotted behind the store by our house. Although we scared off them, one that missed the memo charged. A well placed arrow via me brought it down long enough for Robert to swing an ax he grabbed from the fire down on its neck. We buried it and put ashes from the bonfire on top to discourage werebies from coming back to the spot. Something about the smell of fire or ash scared them.
Even if we stayed by the fire and kept weapons by our side, staying out at nighttime wouldn't be safe. Any daring or hungry werebie would walk into our home and approach us. But it was still the plan. The creature's eyes were too sensitive to come too close to the fire even if we were like sitting ducks. It was a party and a risk we would take.
"It will be fine," I sighed, scratching the top of my nose.
"I hope you are right, I don't wanna risk my kids out there," He sighed, taking his time looking from me to Fadiyah, whose back was to him now.
"I get what you're saying," We both went back to silence.
About at that time, Lilya came walking around the corner, in her hands was a ball of stuffing.
Robert cast her a slow, careful gaze, then sighed. Her toy had come apart, and telling by his annoyed expression, again. Children were rough with their things, not understanding a harsh tug could pull it apart. The man stood up, scratching the underside of his jaw. Lilya smiled with raised eyebrows trying to seem innocent. She held out the stuffing so Robert could take it. He did, rolling it in his palm, then laid a hand softly on her shoulder then lead her out of the kitchen toward her room.
For a few seconds, it was quiet until Robert calmly yelled for Fadiyah, curious to know if she knew where the sewing kit was. My friend left with a jump when she remembered where it was, tossing me a bright grin before leaving.
I smiled back at her then looked over the dishes. All were put away so I shut the cabinet doors and wiped my hands dry. There wasn’t much to do without my company around. I could find Feliks and talk to him, but I didn’t feel like walking outside to go into our house to get to him.
Seeing as my options were short, I chose to just sit at the table. The day was early, the sun not too close to the center of the sky yet. That meant there was still a long time to do day activities and a long wait for sleep. These days were what I hated. It was a tolerable weekday, a day school should be in session. Back when I attended school, I was a junior, going to be a senior in what was a bundle of months, even though the school year had just started. Feliks was hyped for graduation just the year prior. It was such a great time for him. The bright and beaming smile as he walked up to the podium, red robe down to his ankles and hair pulled into a tight ponytail low on his head. When I was a sophomore, he had been a senior. After my junior year, there would be me, hopefully, strolling down the same path wearing white instead of red. It felt strange to say it, but I missed school. I missed my opportunity to stand and toss my cap into the air with the promise of freedom.
That made me miss my friends. I hadn’t ever had steady friends. Those batches of friends were more like acquaintances. They weren’t disposable per se, but they were fluid, in and out of my life without any effect on me. I only had a set few that had impact to me and those were the five I sat with during the noontime lunch. That short thirty minutes was certainly the highlight of my day every day. Feliks sometimes did or did not sit with us, sometimes instead sitting with his band friends. I wondered if he missed his friends. Band kids were awfully close kids, like a cult. It had to be hard to be away from them. I loved those guys and gals, too.
Then again, did they miss us? Was there anyone at school that wondered what ever happened to us? What changed? Was there school anymore? Was there now wire fences around it to guard kids from an attacking werebie? Too bad I wouldn’t get any of those questions answered. I used to be able to just look it up.
Hah, no internet. That made life just about 20% worse.
I readjusted how I was sitting in my chair to lean back more. I yawned, tempted to allow myself be lulled into sleep from the boredom. Before that got any farther, I heard a distinctly unfitting noise echo outside the house.
It sounded like a low rumble, followed by the crunching of something heavy over the dry grass. At first, my instinct was to scream ‘werebie attack’ but it was too unlikely. I knew what that sound was, for I longed to have it again in my life.
The growling rumble got louder and I soon rose to peek out the window. There was indeed the sight I had expected; a large 4x4 truck crawling its way towards our home.
There wasn’t a reason that jumped out at me to why this truck would be here until I remembered about Robert’s aunt and her grandson. It had to have been them. It had to be.
The truck that they had drove into town, if even them, was a shining white. There was a shield of a rough abrasive coat that covered the wheels. The windows were deep black-purple, titled at a sharp angle. Above the windows were what looked like some type of window guards. On the roof of the bulky cab there perched above three heavy duty guns. The majority of the mass of those guns were long cylinders in the barrels. They had to be silencers. No one with a bit of sense would mount loud guns. The louder the gunshots, the quicker werebies would swarm to attack. There was a row of spikes that covered the bottom bumper.
The presence of that truck suddenly was a threat.
Robert must have heard the truck approach because he came quickly out of the back of the house and took off towards the door. He stopped only to tell me, uncharacteristically, “Stay safe. Don’t let them see Feliks if you want him to stay alive.”
If he hated him, it seemed like they’d offer him up gratefully. That wasn’t the case right now. Upon giving it a thought, if they knew there was a werebie among us, they’d possibly kill us. We might be contaminated, even though we weren’t.
From my position at the window, I watched the truck stop and park. All lights off, the truck rocked briefly before going still. The door on the left, driver side, opened a crack. From the truck, a jump suited person emerged. The door was closed without a sound and the person took a few surveying steps outwards.
They wore a white helmet, plain dark shield on the front that’s style mimicked a motorcycle helmet. The collar of the suit stood up high and tucked into the opening of the helmet. It had to be a type of a hazmat suit to guard against the virus.
The boy took another step out and rose a gun to his line of sight. His hand on the trigger, he carefully stayed by the truck but moved to be on the side facing Robert’s house. That was when he noticed Robert standing on his house steps. The person in the suit pointed the gun and paused before lowering it and letting the stiffness of his body faze out.
He took off his helmet and strapped the gun back to his side before enthusiastically e
mbracing Robert.
The boy had to be Lewis. He was eighteen, tops, and had the same complexion as Robert. The teen’s hair was longer than mine and had natural kinks close to the top but looked straightened close to the tips. It looked nice on him. Due to the tight helmet, I knew his hair was flattened to his head, so that must’ve altered it. Lewis stood a bit back from Robert when he let go, head rising above the man. I hadn’t realized how tall the kid was.
He smiled bright, sighing with relief, “I was scared I wasn’t going to see you. I brought Grandma Beverly with me. She’s waiting in the truck, probably asleep again. Took an hour to drive out here.”
Robert’s face was full of a joy I’d never witnessed before, “I’m glad you made it. We’ve got to catch up.”
Lewis nodded, turning to motion to his passenger. They waited but she never got out, “Either she died on the way or she’s asleep. I’ll get her.”
They both looked towards the vehicle before proceeding to it. At that point, I moved away from the window where I was watching. I became concerned over where Feliks was and whether or not Lewis and his grandmother might find him. Last time I had seen him, he was behind the house outside stretching his legs.
The back door was down the hall that Fadiyah’s room was in. I passed through it, knowing she was with Lilya on the other side of the house. I opened the screen door quietly, able to hear Lewis and Robert talking from the front of the house. I didn’t want to attract them to me.
I took longer than it should have to get outside. Once off the back step, I looked down both sides of the clearing. Behind the house there was a tank and then shrubs, which began to shift once I stepped closer. Two ears popped above the foliage and it was followed by two blue-grey eyes. Feliks stuck out his head, then emerged. I nodded for him to come closer and opened the door so he could come inside. He shook himself off before darting inside with me.
His tail hit the front of my legs, “So what’s happening? I heard a truck and jumped into the bushes.”
“Robert’s cousin, Lewis, is here. His Aunt Beverly is here too. They have this big truck and guns mounted on the top. I think if they see you, they’ll kill you.”
He gasped, and pulled back his ears, “Why does this always happen?”
“Because we have bad luck.”
He nodded.
I sniffled and then turned my head to the window, “I don’t know how long they’ll be here. We need to get to our home, quick. I have an idea.”
“How do we avoid getting seen?” Feliks inquired.
“Run around town limits. Go in the way that the truck doesn’t face. They shouldn’t see us.”
We headed out. The air was crisp with morning and I had no jacket, so I tried to hurry. Once at the end of the row of house, I ran like a track star for the other side. Feliks ran smoothly by my side, breathing heavy. That’s when I heard the boy, Lewis, shout followed by Robert saying it was nothing quite loud. I got to the house first. Once again, I opened the door and we went through into the back hall.
Feliks huffed, blowing air through his nose and shaking his head soon after. He shook his body and finally his tail before trotting towards the kitchen. I tapped my feet on the back mat before exiting the hall, passing by Feliks in the kitchen, and heading into the living room where I stretched my arms and walked over to the coat rack.
There was only two things hanging on the rack; my corduroy jacket and a thinner grey zip-up sweater that reminded me of the ones Feliks and I had back when we were lost by ourselves. I put on the corduroy over my black tee and buttoned one button. Turning towards Feliks, I reached back and slipped the grey one off the hook.
Feliks saw me looking at him and came over to me, claws clicking on the tile and padding on the carpet. He sat in front of me, scanning over the sweater in my hand, snorting when he ‘figured’ it out.
“That’s your big plan? Disguise me as a human? That won’t work too great, I have,” he waved a paw in my direction, “paws and a tail plus fur. Those people aren’t fools.”
I crossed my arms, stamping a foot down with a harrumph, “Damnit just wait for me to explain. No I’m not disguising you as a human. No one would fall for a dog in clothes, even if he talked. No, I’m going to put this on you and cover up the scars from the attack. I can probably lie my way through the two on your face. Cat attack or something. But, that one on your side,” He gazed at the toughened dark pink on his ribs, “looks much too werebie-ish for them to overlook.”
The sweater felt heavier in my hands when his head started to sink down. The scar on his side was something he blocked out. He was a mangled dog, not just a regular dog. It was an easier fantasy to be stuck in a dog’s body than to be stuck in a torn up one. I had started to forget about it myself, seeing it but not thinking about it.
“'See your point,” Feliks mumbled before offering up his front paws. He balanced on his hind legs while I slipped the left paw through the sleeve and brought it around his back.
He kept rocking back and forth, having trouble staying up in place. I held him still with my spare hand by holding his paw. Once I got both paws into the sweater, I let him drop back down.
“Feel alright?”
He nodded, waggling his shoulders and straightening out so I could zip it up.
It looked awkwardly tight around his legs, the fabric taut at the elbows but he could walk just fine. When he stood on all fours, his side was covered.
“This is warmer than I’m used to. I got accustomed to the fur coat,” He joked.
“Literal fur coat. Come here,” He came closer and I bent down to fix the collar of the sweater.
That second was when I heard a bang and loud voices. I couldn’t even get up in time before I heard the front door begin to open. Feliks scrambled to get out of the way as I hopped up and the door opened.
Lewis stood at the entrance, looking surprised at my sudden movement. Robert had his hand on Lewis’s shoulder and had his eyebrows drawn up, trying to distract him. It was too late.
“Xavier?” Lewis froze, looking back to Robert and crossing over the door frame and entering the house.
I stuff my hands in my pockets and stare at him. Our eyes were level and I could see the reflection of my eyes in his. There was a layer of confusion in his face.
“Who are you?”
TWENTY
Lewis swayed on one foot and turned to Robert in pure misunderstanding. He neared my face again, seeing Xavier in my eyes and clothes but finding the wrong body and face. Next he observed the dog trying to hide out of sight, tail poking out from the back of the couch. He had already seen him when he came up. Robert stood in the door now, blocking the sunlight.
“Lewis, I don’t know what to tell you. I mean, where to start? When everyone left, Xavier’s family got attacked. They all got changed but they all disappeared. We were plagued by a specific cat one that stayed around. We were busy running them off until these two come trumping into our lives and took it out. She helps us.”
“Xavier… he’s dead?” Lewis started to sway harsher. Robert put an arm around him but Lewis pushed him off and made a beeline to the couch. Feliks hopped up and went running off to avoid him. He then paused mid stride and headed back to him, realizing he had to play the part of harmless pet dog. That meant overly curious and loving.
Lewis dropped himself into the couch and inhaled deeply. I started to urgently walk to him, unfamiliar with him but caring about him.
“Lewis?” I asked softly, standing above him behind the couch.
Feliks wormed in on his right, nuzzling at his knee. Lewis looked at him, startled at the sight but then laid a hand on his head and petted him.
“I love dogs,” The teen focused his eyes on the floor, letting his head relax back into his long buoyant curls and looked up to me, “So who are you? Distract me. Tell me about you. And your dog.”
“Uh,” I hesitated and walked around Feliks and sat down beside him.
He looked at me expectantly, but I w
as trapped with silence. This felt so much different than the last time I introduced myself. Lewis sighed, turned his head away, and dragged himself down in the couch.
“Uh, Darylene.”
“Excuse me?” He asked.
“My name is Darylene. Darylene Stern. My… dog’s name is Feliks. He’s like family.”
He understood that, cheerfully turning back to Feliks and grasping both sides of his skull and grinning, “Hey boy! Feliks. Are you a good boy? Whatta cool name for a dog.”
I could see the restrained anger and annoyance in my brother’s eyes, which almost tempted me to laugh out loud. I suppressed the humor back in my throat and strained to keep a straight face. Feliks started to pull back from the boy but kept still. He thumped his tail on the floor and opened his mouth, letting his tongue loll forward. Lewis went on to scratch behind his head and on his back.
Lewis was joyful to see a reaction, though he was not aware it was painfully fake. His voice went higher, the classic baby-talk everyone gives to small cute things and babies. Feliks didn’t like that much; he was suffering.
It was partly enjoyable. “He is a good dog, pretty loving. He loves affection,” I mocked him further with the same tone of voice, “Isn’t that right, Feliks? Don’t you love being loved on?”
He huffed, sneezed a little, and hopped up quickly on the couch. Lewis jumped back as Feliks forced space between us. I knew what was about to happen but it was too late to escape. Feliks pressed his paws to my chest and wiped his moist, saliva soaked tongue across my face and into my bangs. I froze in mortification as he went on to rub his eerily damp nose into the mess. He blew husky sulfur breath into my face to cool the saliva even more.
It was Lewis’s turn to laugh. I groaned and shoved Feliks back to the floor. He skidded to a halt and trotted away with a wagging tail. The boy, smiling, turned back to me.