The light is half way down the blades. She sees the entrance ahead through the grass. She is almost there. Just a few more efforts. Reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait. Her forward progress is matched by the march of the light downward. It’s just above her position in the grass. With a shriek she reaches forward. The light falls upon her.
The moon continues to sail across the sky in the dawning light of the day, uncaring to the troubles below.
Feeling drawn by both the two-legged one occupying her thoughts and the other strange one she felt, Sandra leads her pack north again. There are plenty of the small furry creatures to feed her large pack so she’s not worried about them eating. She’s intrigued and not sure which intrigues her more, the one who brushed her mind so long ago or the one who felt like her own kind but didn’t respond to her call. The intrigue with that one stems from his being inside the two-legged lair yet not feeding on them, or responding to her call. She also wonders why the two- legged ones allow him in their midst.
Watching over her pack once again as they scurry among the ruins to feast, she reaches out. She knows this will allow Michael to know where she is but she’ll deal with that later. She rubs her stomach subconsciously in a protective nature. The young one inside of her has started to show lately. Soon, she won’t be able to hunt with her pack and they will have to bring her food. That time will be short and then she’ll have to hunt for him or her.
Her protective nature, however, is overcome by her intrigue and infatuation with this two-legged one and that confuses her. It feels alien as she knows she should normally be concentrating on her young one. She feels torn but can’t help what she is doing. She senses the other strange one. He is still inside the lair and she wonders if he is being held captive by the two-legged ones. She can’t imagine being inside without wanting to feed… needing to feed… the rage would be too intense not to attack.
She sends the mental image for him to join but receives no response which puzzles her even more. She sends other images in order to establish some sort of contact but there aren’t any return messages indicating he heard. She calls once again to join her, to hunt with her and her pack. Nothing. She searches for the two-legged one but doesn’t sense him. With a shriek of frustration, she stops searching and joins her pack to feed.
Alan wakes in a cold sweat. He looks around feeling terror mixed with eagerness and a strange thrill. His heart is racing as he becomes aware of his surroundings. Fearing he is downstairs again, the few objects in his cubicle become clearer in the dim light of the interior.
The dream, more of a nightmare but a thrilling one, fades slowly and he tries the catch the quickly disappearing remains. He feels more than sees that there was a call. For some reason, that call seems familiar but he associates that with the other nightmares he’s had since arriving at this compound. He feels welcomed by the people here and has a sense of safety but there is a strange pull to be outside. It is a deep-seated feeling of needing to be out that he can’t place. He feels drawn.
Images swirl in his head that both terrify and exhilarate him, arousing him in an odd way. They are pictures of him running through the night. Instead of the terror he used to feel in dreams like this, he feels a sense of delight. Perhaps that’s because he wasn’t being chased but rather doing the chasing. The visions he has in his head are of hunting and rending flesh. This repulses him but he can’t shake the stimulating feeling they present. This frightens him more than anything else.
The images vanish completely as dreams are wont to do. Alan rubs his face again and stretches. A giant yawn escapes and he settles back into his sweat-soaked sheets. His eyes close and he is soon asleep again. He doesn’t realize it yet, but a seed has been planted.
Michael runs through a vacant field. He feels grass brushing against the remains of his pants as he races under the bright white light shining overhead. The chill of the evening he felt at the start of the hunt is gone. It is replaced by the heat of exertion and of the chase. He and his large pack are in pursuit of one of the larger four- legged ones. This one has large horns rising above its head and is fleet. These are hard to catch but the sweet meat is well worth the effort.
It’s been a while since he’s actually chased down prey and he relishes in the excitement. His nose picks up the musky scent, they are slowly but surely closing in. This spurs him to greater efforts. He sent part of his pack around to the sides in an attempt to corner the animal and he keeps them directed with images.
He caught this scent earlier and the chase has led them through parts of the burned out relics of old two- legged lairs and across open fields like the one he is in. Some fences appeared out of nowhere but he hurdled those with ease, the solid thumps behind telling him his pack was still behind him.
He still hasn’t sighted the prey but this doesn’t surprise him as there is a wall of trees a short distance ahead. Leaping over another fence, he plunges into the dense brush lining the entrance to the wooded area. Michael keeps one ear peeled for any sound from the intruder from the sky. It hasn’t shown up for a couple of nights but that doesn’t mean it isn’t out there somewhere… waiting. He still doesn’t know what it is other than it is deadly and to be avoided at all costs.
His breath is coming hard as he races amongst the trees, darting to the side to avoid crashing into them. Low hanging branches scratch his face at times but he doesn’t register it as he knows he is getting closer. He can almost taste the sweet meat and feel the blood run down his chin as he tears into the flesh. His eagerness and hunger increase with the thought.
He breaks into a small open area enclosed by a border of trees. There, on the other side of the clearing, the animal struggles. His massive antlers are caught in the branches. Michael watches for a moment as the animal labors to break free. Breathing hard, with his exhalations causing puffs of white mist to appear, Michael launches forward. The large animal is still dangerous but the pack soon swarms over it and it is brought to the ground in a spray of blood from its neck.
He dives in with the rest of the pack. The eagerness of the chase is replaced by a deep-seated hunger. The smell of blood is thick in the air, spurring his excitement even further. He tears into a tender part ripping the flesh and chews on it with enthusiasm. Swallowing the enjoyable morsel, he lowers his head for another piece. Before he is able to sink his blood-stained teeth into the cooling body, he senses something he was worried about all night. He brings his head up sharply sensing Sandra far off into the night. She has taken her pack north by the two-legged lair again. With a growl of anger, he leans down to rip another piece of flesh off, his enthusiasm cooled.
Michael returns to the lair as the sky threatens to lighten over the mountains. Many of the packs preceded him and are finding places to rest. All of them ate well tonight and their small stockpile of alternate food grew. The only damper was Sandra’s insistence on traveling by the two-legged one’s lair. That will bring harm to the pack as a whole and he can’t allow for that to happen. The last thing they need is to stir up trouble from them. He waits by the entrance for her to arrive with her pack. Even though he felt a few of the pack members vanish from his thoughts this evening, he somehow knows she will return. She has become quite effective at concealing herself and her pack and he is surprised he sensed her this evening.
She appears just before the sky begins to change color. He stops her and draws her off to the side as her pack continues inside. It takes a while for them all to enter the narrow doorway but they eventually all pass inside.
“You went up to the two-legged lair again when I specifically told you not to,” he verbally says.
“There’s food to be had up that way,” Sandra replies, sending an image of the rodents in abundance. She has chosen to share this information with him hoping it will suffice for a reason to be up there and now knowing he won’t venture that way, even for food.
“I don’t care about that. You know why I don’t want any of us up there. You are endangering the pack by being near the two-legged ones,” Michael states.
“You are endangering us all by scurrying away and leaving them to roam at will,” she counters.
“I can’t have you endangering the pack by going near their lair. You will stay here and only go out to gather the alternate food,” Michael says. “They are dangerous and will be dealt with but we need to hunt and survive until then. We can’t fight them in their own lair. I’ll think of a way but until we do, you are to stay away.”
“I’ll find a way in and deal with them,” Sandra says, thinking of the strange one in their lair.
She doesn’t want to tell Michael about him just yet, feeling he won’t use the information and find a way in employing him. Not knowing how to use what she knows just yet, she does have a semblance of a plan circulating
