Zyane absentmindedly rubbed the corner of a page in the book she was reading. She was sitting in the passenger seat of an RV with the back turned to the windshield. She felt the sun warming the back of her head as it slipped through the gaps in the headrest and she yawned. It was yet another lazy spring day on the rather barren plains of Oklahoma. She turned the page and sighed before clapping her book shut.
"What to do," she muttered, "what to do."
She turned the seat around and picked her teeth in the mirror of the sun visor. She groaned and slouched in the chair. She turned from side to side quickly at first and then slower as she began to succumb to the sun's warmth. Just as her eyes began to close and drool escaped her lips, the RV shook and bounced and she could hear a rattle on the roof. She scowled and swore under her breath before storming out the door. She was greeted with a sea of tall green grass the barely shifted in a slight breeze. The grass went on for miles upon miles with no signs of civilization apart from the cracked road she stood upon. She heard the rattle again and turned around. She found her companion, Tristan, standing on top of the RV with a lawn chair tucked under each arm, a rifle slung over his shoulder, and a ziplock back of sunflower seeds between his teeth.
"Tristan!" Zyane said sharply.
Tristan stopped trying to set up one of the chairs and looked down at her.
"What the heck are you doing?" Zyane asked.
Tristan hiked up the chairs and talked around the bag in his mouth.
"Tryna shet shome chairsh up ah da Ah-Vee," he grunted.
Zyane stared at him a moment longer before shaking her head slowly at him.
"I hate you," She grumbled before going to the ladder on the rear of the RV. She climbed up onto the roof and sat down beside Tristan on one of the lawn chairs. Before he could do it himself, Zyane pulled the bag of sunflowers from his mouth and wiped it on his shirt before opening it up.
"Where'd you find these?" She asked as she carefully lifted a handful to her mouth.
"There's a patch of wild sunflowers just over the hill," Tristan responded as he took a handful for himself.
"Nice find," Zyane replied.
"Did I miss anything?"
"A whole lot of nothing."
"Damn. Quite enjoy nothing."
Zyane didn't reply to that. She focused on splitting the seeds open with her teeth and looking out at the road. She spat some shells to the side and looked over her shoulder. Road, road, and more road, she thought.
"Zyane?" Tristan asked.
"What?" She answered.
"How long has it been?"
"Just a little over two years."
"How do you know?"
"I made a calendar."
"Oh..that's good.."
"Why?"
Zyane looked at Tristan and saw his eyes were almost glazed over as he stared at the green horizon. A beard had slowly taken over his face and a crack split the right lens of his glasses. His hair was unruly and long, an unusual sight on the military veteran. His hair was parted in two places, however. Down the right where he usually parted it and down the left from his scar. It was long, wide, and still had a pinkish hue to it despite being two years old. No matter what he tried to hide it, it was always visible.
"Do you still think about it?" Tristan asked quietly. Zyane returned her gaze to the grass. The breeze had picked up to a light wind. It made the grass rustle and his quietly like a bunch of young snakes or waves upon a distant shore. She shivered and tried to think of it as waves.
"Every night," she responded.
"Lucky you," Tristan answered solemnly.
"Does it still bother you?"
"Not as much now that it's warmer but I'm not looking forward to the rains."
Tristan spit shells to the side and hefted the hunting rifle. He peered down the scope at something in the distance before checking the chamber. He threw the bolt and held it out to Zyane.
"How about some target practice?" He asked lightly, a stark contrast to his tone previously. Zyane took the weapon and got to her feet.
"I set up some targets out in the grass. Ten o clock, can't miss 'em," Tristan instructed before pulling a pair of binoculars from the pack behind his chair. He leaned back in his chair and held the binoculars to one eye like a periscope and looked out at the targets. Zyane knelt beside the pack and retrieved a box of ammunition before going to the front of the RV. She carefully laid down on her front and rested the rifle down on the edge of a vent. She peered through her scope at the direction Tristan directed her to and found a set of boards at varying distances with playing cards nailed to them.
"Really, Tristan," She asked begrudgingly.
"Don't think you can handle it?" Tristan replied without looking away form the binoculars.
Suddenly, Zyane took a shot at a jack and blew a hole through the center of the card. She chambered another bullet and looked back at Tristan. He spat shells at his feet.
"Don't look at me like that," he muttered, "just hit the targets. I'll call them out."
Zyane smirked and returned to the scope.
"Got a ten?" Tristan asked.
Bang. Clink.
"Not anymore," Zyane answered.
"Give me a..five."
Bang. Clink.
"Now the two up front."
Bang. Clink.
"Holy cow, lady. You don't like to miss much, do you?"
"Not when bullets are this hard to come by."
"Hm. Makes sense. Take the three on the right, the seven on the left, the eight on the left..."
They would have target practice until the proverbial cows came home, the rifles reports sounding like thunder as it echoed over the planes. Zyane had just obliterated her forty ninth card with her forty eighth bullet when the sun set. She became vaguely aware of Tristan tapping his foot behind her.
"Queen," he grunted.
Bang. Clink.
"Reload and pack it up, that's enough for today."
"What?! Come on, we've only got two more to go! I'll be quick, I promise," Zyane pleaded.
"It's dark, we're done," Tristan replied firmly.
"It's just two more. The longer we argue the later it gets."
Tristan spat his last shell to the side and tapped a nervous finger against the binoculars.
"Fine," he said quickly, "Just these last two."
Zyane reloaded the rifle swiftly and peered through the scope. She made quick work of the last jack and searched for the last card. She found the last queen standing alone in the very back, the card at the greatest distance away. She drew deep breaths and carefully chambered another bullet. She slipped her finger against the trigger and lined the shot up. The wind had died down and she was painfully aware of how loud her shot would be. Maybe this isn't such a good idea, she thought doubtfully. She very slightly shook her head and dismissed the thought. Moonlight made the grass gleam and almost shimmer. Fireflies flashed and blinked over the fields in patches. Zyane inhaled. She steadied herself. She exhaled. Just as the trigger creaked beneath her finger, she heard Tristan's fingers snap quietly. She froze.
"Left," he whispered, his words almost a breeze.
Zyane very carefully swiveled her rifle left of her target and saw the grass was moving. She moved it to the right and found the grass was moving there was well. Dark shapes flitted through the blades, too many for Zyane to count. She heard the quiet squeak of the roof hatch behind her and the dry shuffle of Tristan's boots against the roof. A bullet casing rolled off of the roof and landed against the ground with a thunderous clink in the silence. Zyane switched on the safety and took one last look at the hill. It looked as though a violent gale ripped through the grass as strange creatures ran through it. She felt Tristan's hand carefully loop around her belt and barely lift her off the roof and pull her back. He helped steer her down the roof hatch and took the rifle for safety before handing it down to her. Once inside, Zyane set about closing all of the curtains on the RVs windows. She took the chairs from Tristan as he handed them down to her and helped him drop into the RV as quietly as he could. He sealed the hatch and went to the windshield to steal one more glance at the grass before closing the curtains. The two were thrust into complete darkness and Zyane felt herself become stiff. She took shallow breaths and gripped the rifle hard enough to pop her knuckles. She heard a squeak behind her and knew Tristan had lifted up the bed in the very back of the RV to reveal an area for storage. She made her way towards him until the felt his outstretched hand and climbed into the storage area. She knelt down and bowed her head for Tristan to close it even though she knew he couldn't see her. The bed barely touched her head as it closed again with a quiet click. She heard the dry rasp of steel against canvas as Tristan drew his combat knife and climbed into the storage space beneath a bed against the left wall beside Zyane. All there was left to do Now was wait.
For a while the only sound Zyane could hear was the pounding of heart against her rib cage and the roar of blood in her ears. Her hands were sweaty against the rifle and a lock of hair covered her eye but she didn't dare move. To move was to risk making a sound. To make a sound was to die. She closed her eyes and strained her ears to hear outside of the RV. She began to hear the patter and slap of bare feet against the asphalt outside. There were quiet snarls and snorts along with the occasional yipe like a coyote might do. There were frantic steps that left as soon as they came and slow and methodical steps that seemed to pause outside of the RV. Zyane peered through a crack in the bed at the blackness of the RV and prayed it would remain that way. She heard a snort and a snuffling outside that seemed to circle the RV. Oh no, she thought, they know. Suddenly the RV rocked as something leapt onto the roof from the ground. Zyane bit her lip as she could hear the bullet casings clink and roll against the roof and ground. There was the horrible screech of fingernails against planting as something tried to open the roof hatch. Whatever it was snarled and almost barked as it leapt off of the RV and ran away. Zyane breathed a sigh of relief. The door handle began to jiggle and rattle, a sound that made Zyanes heart skip a beat before racing even faster. It rattled for what Zyane guessed to be twenty seconds before slowly turning and finally clicking. The door screeched upon dry hinges as it slowly opened, allowing only a shaft of moonlight to enter the RV. The black silhouette of a hand reached into the RV followed by another as something began to pull itself into the vehicle. It was short and hunched over. It took slow steps as it entered the RV, leading with its knuckles before swinging its legs forward like an ape. It took rapid breaths accented by the gurgle of phlegm. It straightened its back and stood tall to what Zyane guessed was her height. It shambled forward until it came to the back of the RV. It was close enough that Zyane couldn't see it at all from the crack in the bed. She could almost feel it bending over the bed, tasting the air for scents, straining its ears for signs of life. It was only now that Zyane felt her muscles ache and burn. Now was the time she felt the urge to clear her throat or to cough. She even felt as thought her stomach may settle at any moment. She took the shallowest breaths she could without seeing spots. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the creature began to return to the door. It paused and sniffed st the air once more before screaming. It howled, the sound filling Zyane with a primal fear she hadn't felt in two years. She wanted only to run from this place as fast as she could for as long as possible. It was all she could do to remain a statue until the creature finally fell silent. It snorted once more before leaping from the RV and running into the dark after the others. Zyane didn't dare move. It wasn't until she was sure an hour had passed since she last heard them that she allowed herself to take a proper breath. She waited longer still until she heard Tristan stir and clamber out of his hiding place. Zyane sighed and sat back. She let the rifle fall down in her lap and she wiped sweat from her brow. She heard Tristan go to the door and slowly close it.
"Hmph." He grunted.
And then Zyane heard him lock the door for the first time that night.
