Jeff Strand - Dweller

There was a carton of chocolate ice cream in the freezer. Owen would love that. He probably hadn’t enjoyed a treat in years. But it would melt before Toby got back to the cave, and he didn’t want to drag an ice chest out there along with his heavy backpack.

And, most important, Owen didn’t deserve ice cream. Why even consider such a thing? What Owen deserved was a great big punch in the nose.

Still, he was elated to have him back.

He hiked back out to the cave, half expecting Owen to have abandoned him again. But the monster lay on the ground, curled up, fast asleep. Toby lay down next to him. He couldn’t fall asleep-he still had concerns about his personal safety-but he did snuggle with the monster until sunrise.

As they walked, Toby realized that he’d regained his appreciation for the beauty of the forest. Sunlight streamed through the canopy, illuminating a world of green. Birds chirped. Flowers bloomed. The entire forest was filled with the potential for discovery, for adventure.

And, yeah, it all sounded like a bad greeting card, but Toby didn’t care. Despite a lack of sleep, he was wideawake. He was as excited about this journey as if he held a skull-and-crossbones-adorned treasure map, leading him to the location of a long-buried pirates’ stash of gold, silver, and jewels. He was in a cobweb-filled corridor of a pyramid, avoiding poison-tainted death traps while seeking the sarcophagus of an ancient emperor. He was seated in the cockpit of a plane he’d built himself, flying over the South American jungle, searching for a lost tribe.

Owen led, of course. Sometimes Toby spoke to him. More often, he remained silent, lost in happy thought.

He got tired more quickly than Owen, and insisted on more rest breaks. When Owen balked, Toby reminded him of the whole “gone for two years” issue and Owen relented. They never rested for very long. Toby was too excited to resume their journey.

As darkness fell, Toby built a makeshift shelter out of some branches. It was about as makeshift as you could possibly get, but it only collapsed once during the night. This time, Toby had absolutely no trouble falling asleep. He dreamed of his mother making him a peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich, her wrists unscarred.

The next day they came upon a large pond. They splashed around in it for nearly half an hour. Owen jabbed a fish with his talon and threw it into his mouth whole, chewing it rapidly and then offering Toby a scale-tainted smile.

“You could have at least left me the tail or something,” Toby said.

After a few minutes of effort, Owen hooked another one. Toby built a small fire, used a branch as a skewer, and cooked up the fish perfectly. He ate most of the meat. Owen ate the head, tail, and bones.

They swam some more, until Owen indicated that it was time to leave.

The bugs seemed a lot worse in this part of the forest, but Toby buried his face into Owen’s back and was still able to get a decent night’s sleep.

“How far do you think we’ve come so far?” Toby asked, as they walked side by side. It had to be at least fifty miles. Maybe closer to seventy-five. “Are we almost there?”

Yes.

“This is going to be worth the trip, right? It’s not going to just be a slightly larger cave? Because by ‘long trip’ I kind of thought you meant a few hours, and I never asked Mr. Zack for the time off. I’m in the butcher department now, so we spend a lot of time around knives. Just thought you should know.”

Toby took a bite of his tasteless granola bar. Even with raisins, or what purported to be raisins, it was pretty bland stuff. He hadn’t really researched it, but he assumed that Magellan had much better cuisine during his travels.

“You need to hunt us a deer,” Toby said. “A nice big plump one. Venison. Lots of venison.” His stomach growled.

Owen began to jump up and down, almost like a baboon. Toby had never seen his friend act this excited. They must be getting close. Owen pointed ahead, jumped up and down a few more times, then raced off, leaving Toby behind.

Toby hurried after him.

He ran out into the clearing, and then froze. “Oh my God…”

There was another pond. Three creatures relaxed in the water. Long brown hair. Sunken yellow eyes. Enormous fangs. Sharp talons.

Toby didn’t know if he should be awestruck or terrified.

Owen looked back at him, and frantically gestured for Toby to follow.

That didn’t seem like a good idea. This was the kind of social encounter that one eased oneself into, perhaps over the course of weeks.

Were these Owen’s relatives? Or had he just somehow found more of his own kind?

Were they going to welcome him as one of their own, or have a family feast?

What if Owen had lured him all the way out here to be dinner for his new friends? “You want human flesh? Oh, I can get that for you, no problem!”

Shit.

The monsters all looked over at Toby, and then began to quickly emerge from the pond. He should run. He should definitely run.

Instead, he stood there, forcing himself to stay as calm as possible, and let the monsters approach. They moved rapidly at first, until Owen waved them back, after which they carefully crept toward him, watching him with intense curiosity.

Toby couldn’t be certain, but the monsters looked like a mother, a father, and a child.

They surrounded him. He shuddered as they gently poked at him, smelled him, tugged at his shirt, and ran their fingers through his hair. Any of the three could easily open up his scalp with one of their talons, and they didn’t, so he supposed that he should feel safe. Such a feeling eluded him.

No nibbling. Please, no nibbling.

Owen talked to them in a series of grunts and growls. They talked back. Toby didn’t have the slightest clue what they were saying to each other, and Owen wasn’t paying attention to his attempts to signal, but at least things didn’t appear to be moving in a “let’s snap the wishbone” direction.

This went on for several minutes. One of them, the child, did indeed nibble at Toby’s elbow, but after a loud growl from Owen he stopped.

Finally the crowd dispersed, leaving Toby standing there, drenched with sweat. The others went off into the trees.

“Is this your family?” Toby asked Owen.

No.

“They seem nice.”

Owen led him to the pond. They waded out into the water, waist-deep, and just stood there, enjoying the sunshine. Owen still wasn’t off the hook for being gone so damn long, but Toby was thrilled for his friend. He’d often considered that there might be other creatures like Owen out there, but he’d never expected to actually find them, or be smelled by them.

A moment later, the three creatures dragged a deer carcass near the pond. They waited expectantly as Toby and Owen walked to shore, and then all four creatures stared at Toby.

Aw, crap. He was pretty sure that they were waiting for their guest of honor to take the first bite.

“You know that I like my meat cooked, right?” Toby asked Owen. Of course, his friend conveniently had no idea what Toby was talking about. This seemed like a scenario where offending his hosts could be fatal, so Toby reached into the carcass, tore off a small chunk of meat (which didn’t come free easily), and reluctantly shoved it into his mouth and chewed.

As if he’d fired a starter pistol, the monsters dove into the dead deer, burying their faces in the raw meat and ripping off huge pieces with their teeth. Owen gestured for Toby to join them, and he held up his hand and tried to make an “I’m full” gesture. Owen didn’t insist, probably figuring “More deer for me!” and resumed the dining frenzy.

After the feast, the other three monsters crawled off, presumably to sleep. Toby and Owen sat alongside the pond, feet in the water. Owen yawned.