May Day (The Erelong Trilogy Book II)

Creatures

Cameron was nowhere to be found. Storm figured the corporal was on a reconnaissance of the place where they had landed. The house showed signs of being renovated sometime in the last couple of years. But the lawn was overgrown and the garden full of weeds. The front door must have been open since the owners had left, going by the debris that had accumulated over the welcome mat and up the hallway.

Storm walked outside and around the corner and found a clothesline and a woman standing still her back to him. She had dirty blond hair that hung in long, wavy twirls over hunched shoulders as she tilted her head. She seemed to be pondering a problem.

He made to approach her but froze when he saw she was not standing still. It was a side-to-side motion, like a boat on the water. Perhaps she was singing to herself. He took another step toward her.

"Hey," he called softly. "Is everything all right?" He grimaced immediately when he realized the stupidity of the question. Any idiot could see the

She didn't turn to ridicule him or hurl insults. Instead, she began to pull at a strand of hair. She twirled it in her fingers. She didn't turn.

Perhaps she was deaf.

"Are you okay?" He asked. He circled around her so she could see he was there. So she would know his hands were empty, and he was friendly.

Her face was an expressionless mask. Yet, he saw in the slack-jawed expression, eyes that were filled with pain and grief. A crust of dirt and plant material smeared her skin. Her frock was soiled and ripped, with a shoulder strap hanging loosely over one arm, a pale breast exposed. Even though he stood but a few paces away, she did not seem conscious of him being there.

Perhaps he was going to touch her shoulder to reassure her. He stepped closer, without having any clear idea why. Perhaps to reassure her. He was within an arm's reach when she responded, stretching out her hand to touch him.

He remained where he stood. Only just out of reach of her fingertips playing the air like the keys of a piano. It was the sound of keening that made him freeze.

"Stay where you are," Cameron said quietly behind him.

The corporal held his sidearm at his side with the muzzle pointing at the ground. He was close enough to snap off a shot if needed. He could not miss.

Her lament stopped, and she lunged at Storm, snatching at his chest. It was close.

He leaped out of her reach. "Hey! We're not going to harm you."

She might have been in her thirties, with a pretty face that not so long ago would have turned heads. And, it was as if he had said as much aloud because she smiled and opened her mouth worked as if she was trying to say something. Only, instead of words, a dribble of saliva was running down her chin to gather in driblets.

Cameron placed a hand on Storm's shoulder and jerked him back.

The woman had lunged again, and missing her target, she toppled to the ground. The wretch lifted her head to gaze up at him then begun clawing at the toe of his sneakers. She had begun the keening once more.

"Don't try to touch her," Cameron warned. "She's ill."

"You think so? She looks injured to me."

"Don't go any closer to find out, okay?"

Storm ignored Cameron. He squatted before the woman and smiled at her. He was rewarded for his effort when she smiled back at him.

Behind them, from around the corner of the house, there came a low guttural growl. The sound of a guard dog warning them off the property. Off its territory. They didn't have to wait long. A second wretch staggered toward the woman.

At the sight of the man, the woman got slowly to her feet. She reached out to the new arrival, but the man ignored her hand. Without a word, the man took a handful the woman's frock, and turning back the way he came, began to pull her after him.

Only when both the wretches vanished around the corner of the house did Cameron slide the sidearm back into its holster.

"I'd say we've just met two of the locals," he muttered.