FOUND: Tattered Journal
[Almant_the_Wise]: Posted 3 days ago
 
Description:
I found something strange guys. I moved back into my cabin this summer like I always do, but I found this underneath some furniture. Nothing looked that out of place, but it's not like I remember where everything was when I left it. I've skimmed through, and I really don't understand much of it, so I'm scanning this on my shitty printer and sharing it.
EDIT: Sorry, my printer broke down, so I've only been able to upload some of it right now. I'll try to get the rest up later.
 
4 Comments
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    It’s only been a few days, but it looks like I’m already back to writing in my half torn-up journal. I planned on waiting longer, but something unexpected has happened. Well, unexpected isn’t the right word, I’ve known this would happen for months now. I just… never really felt like this was going to happen. I shouldn’t be so melodramatic, it’s not like a tragedy has occurred, we’re all doing well enough for a group running for their lives in the middle of nowhere. It’s just, hard to really accept.
 
    The circumstances are certainly unique, for a lot of reasons. Not just the fact I wasn’t expecting this so soon, or the fact I’m unmarried, or the fact I don’t even have a place to live, or the fact there’s more on the way…
 
    I think I’ll try to approach this from a wider angle, it’s my night on watch so I’ve got the time to do so. Surprisingly, I’m not too paranoid about unexpected visitors to write. I would have expected everyone to be more on edge after what happened to us, but over the past few days it actually seems like our escape has overshadowed the fact we were ambushed. It took them more than a month to launch their first real attempt to snatch us, so maybe we’ve bought ourselves a few weeks. It might seem foolish to think that, but I know how much harder things would be if we were perpetually watching over our shoulders. So, I’m not going to bring it up if no one else wants to. That’s enough about the present for now, I think I’ll pull myself back to the train we fled on and work my way from there.
 
    That night on the train, we were all quite happy to be free. The moon was close to full, the weak light enough to make out the shapes of distant woods or farmhouses speeding past. That didn’t last however, as we had to slide the door shut to hold a little warmth in and keep the wind out. That being said, our previous source of moonlight was gone. It had been replaced with a flashlight that was never confiscated from Sandra. Wedged between two larger crates, the flashlight rattled and shook, but the single beam was more than enough to illuminate our space.
 
    Turns out, we even had food for the night. Heba cracked open one of those wooden crates and found it to be full of discount bananas from somewhere in South America. The whole cart was loaded with them. A meal of only bananas wasn’t normally ideal, but hunger is a powerful seasoning and none of us had eaten in the past 24 hours. And so with our mouths full of mush, we spent much of the night rejoicing in our own little ways while rattling along the rails. It was probably the most fun I’ve had in a long time, although with my recent history, standards weren’t all that high.
 
    At first I talked for a while with Sandra, mostly catching up with her side of the story. Sounds like the three of them weren’t as lucky as us when it came to figuring out a plan. I guess their driver didn’t bother to yell back at them like ours, nor did they have the luck of even a tiny crack to peek through, so they weren’t even sure what kind of vehicle they were in. Apparently they considered they were on a plane for a while. She seemed to be impressed Bon had the idea of eavesdropping on the driver like she did, even more so by the fact we even tried to act on that information. With a toothy grin she added, “Well I appreciate it, if you three hadn’t done something, we’d still be stuck in there.” It was nice to hear the stoic shark sound grateful like that.
 
    To my surprise, I think the person I spent the most time chatting with was Skylar that night. What first caught my attention was how rapidly the smaller ant was packing away her share of the fruit. I remember joking with her, “Slow down there for a second, we’ve got more than enough for everybody!” I flipped open another crate lid to emphasize my point, the sound finally snapping her out of her fixation on the container in front of her. She answered me in a matter-of-fact tone, “If you must know, I’ve been craving something sweet for a long time now.” She didn’t waste a second to grab another while speaking to me. Seeing her interest in the fruit, I was reminded of something I had overheard once, “So is it true, do most insects really like sugar?” Skylar stopped her rapid peeling to give me a glare. “That’s a stereotype! I didn’t think you were so ignorant of-” However her lecture was interrupted by the hyena from across the room.
 
    With about all the tact I could expect from Heba, she leaned into the beam of the flashlight like a standup comedian moving into the spotlight, “Don’t listen to her, she’s just practicing.” She followed her statement with some very suggestive handing of her own banana, making sure to give me an exaggerated wink with her cheeks bulging. Seemed like she was still trying to get back at Skylar for what she said earlier. I tried not to give her any reaction, something Skylar was finding a lot more difficulty in. I could see her antennae twitch as she was visibly generating her comeback, but I tried to take her attention away from more bickering. Besides, it wasn’t even that long ago I was writing about wanting to know everyone better.
 
    “Come on, let Heba pass out from laughing at her own joke. You can tell me more about yourself instead.” It was a shot in the dark, but it worked. Skylar turned away from the Hyena, now almost choking on her banana in her laughing fit, to face me. It’s still not easy for me to read her face, but her large yellow eyes seemed surprised I asked her that. “Oh, me? Not much to tell…” Her antennas seemed to wilt as she thought about it. Sometimes it feels like those feelers above her head are the best way to understand her, and they were telling me she was caught off guard. Her hesitance didn’t add up to me though, “Skylar, you were just about to give me another speech about insects, I’m sure you’ve got something about yourself.”
 
    She continued, her normally raspy voice softening as she spoke lower, “Well, I already told you I grew up in Texas, it’s the kind of place you don’t need hair to stand outside anytime of the year.” She seemed to only grow more wistful as her speech slowed down. “I have, or uh, had… a large family.” At that point she was looking down at her half-eaten banana like a contemplative drunkard might look into their drink. “I guess… I really hadn’t given it much thought these days…” On another night I might have looked down at my feet the same way. I was hardly a stranger to what she was feeling. But it was a happy night, and everyone deserved to have a nice time for once, so I’d be damned if I didn’t try to cheer her up.
 
    I told her quietly, “Hey, well if it makes you feel any better, maybe you can think of us like family. I mean, just like a real family you didn’t get to choose any of us, but you’re still stuck with us.” I laughed a little at the idea, but I found her reaction difficult to read. She spoke up like she was offended, but it seemed like she didn’t have the heart to fully commit herself to it, “Me? Family with a bunch of hair-brained warmbloods like you? That’s… it’s stupid…” She tactically took another mouthful of fruit to avoid finishing her statement, but I didn’t give up.
 
    “If I shaved my head, would you accept me and Sandra at least?” It was just a joke, but she seemed to have trouble swallowing after I said that. Still recovering she blurted out a bit louder than she must have meant to, “NO, no, no you don’t have to do that for me!” Catching a couple of confused glances across the room she brought her voice down, but kept a frantic pace, “I didn’t mean it like that, I was… just worried, just worried that you might freeze without what little fur you’ve got, okay? Stop looking at me like that.”
 
    I suppose I should have picked up on it earlier. I knew she was UNUSUALLY interested in my hair, but I was assuming it was a morbid curiosity or something, and yet she seemed to be so embarrassed by it. It was hard to imagine a better opportunity, so I leaned in and tried to whisper quietly, “Look, I’m not trying to make fun of you or anything, but why are you so concerned with what I do with my hair?” However, a long time on the road without a barber left my hair longer than I’d normally keep it, so as I leaned in, I unintentionally let my hair brush past her shoulder. I’m assuming that’s why I didn’t get the response I expected. Instead I watched the fire ant freeze up before shivering slightly as her antennae shot straight up. I was completely puzzled by her reaction at the time, so I just watched as she took a few seconds to compose herself.
 
    As she finally started to get a grip, she spoke through tightly closed mandibles, “Please. Back. Up.” I complied, but with a look of confusion on my face. She sighed before speaking a little more naturally, “See, you don’t get how big my family was. I was surrounded by aunts, sisters, and cousins all like me while growing up. None of them had hair. I just, don’t like talking about it, okay? It weirds me out.” So it looked like the subject of family was out, and hair doubly so… That’s why I went with the last lead I could think of to keep the conversation alive, “You told me once you were a girl scout at some point, want to talk about that?”
 
    She didn’t have to think long before giving her response, “That was like ten years ago, I can hardly remember it myself.” After that verbal failure, I thought about just giving up. She must have picked up on my disappointment however, because after a pause her expression seemed to soften as she continued, “Well, I do remember a little…” As she started reminiscing I sat cross legged next to her open box, kind of like we were sitting at a table.
 
    “Hmmm, I remember Brittany, she was a moth, oh and Samantha… she insisted we called her a scarab, but she was definitely a dung beetle.” I laughed at how scandalous she made it sound, “Oh, but how can it be bad to be any ‘superior’ species of insect?” Skylar took my comment with pride rather than as a challenge, putting a fist to her chest, “It can’t, we were the best girl scout troop in the state.” She mimed a circle with her fingers above her chest as she lightened up, “I even got a badge for our county-wide foraging competition, exactly why I should be the one looking for food around here!” Obviously the lioness in the corner hadn’t heard that boast, otherwise I’m sure I’d be reliving our previous arguments about strange looking mushrooms in the woods.
 
    I can’t remember everything we talked about, but I watched Skylar’s antennae bounce for a long time as she recounted some of her old stories. I could try to write some of it down, but I feel like I’d be doing her storytelling a dishonor. She went from a story about how her old troop pranked the other “fuzzer scouts” to some of her sisters who had joined in the past. Emma could tie a hundered different knots, Zoe was an expert at first aid, and I guess Alexa (Nicknamed “The Termite”) did a lot of woodwork. If I learned one thing, it’s that Skylar has a lot of sisters. The way she was describing it, it practically sounded like the girl scouts was a family tradition. Ah, while she spoke about the intricate hierarchy of her family and troop alike, I couldn’t help but imagine rows of little Skylars marching, well like ants, dressed up in their uniforms.
 
    Eventually, it dawned on me she was far more comfortable than only a little bit ago, bringing up her family without faltering now. Even I was more comfortable than I had any right to be, swaying up and down in a poorly lit metal container accompanied by the sounds of a train horn interrupting us at random. Instead it felt like I was chatting with a friend after work, something I hadn’t realized I had missed quite so much.
 
    We were still talking when it became apparent the chatter had died down from everyone else, with some like Sandra already propping herself in the corner ready for sleep. Seems like time had gotten away from me. I lowered my voice to the copper insect beside me, “Okay, well if you’re nearly done talking about something you ‘hardly remember,’ we should probably get some sleep.” She gave me a playful shove before speaking up, “Shut up, I’ve got more than enough to worry about looking after a bunch of fuzzers like you.” Her wide eyes told me she wasn’t going to sleep soon, I guess she really had been eating for the sugar. Still, that wasn’t the response I was expecting. “Watch over us? Did you volunteer for the night watch or something when I wasn’t looking?” As I got up to look for a spot to sleep, she bent her head up towards me. “I actually did with Sandra earlier, but it’s not just that… I’ve got to look out for family, y’know?”
 
    I walked away before what she said sunk in. Maybe she meant it as a joke, but did she really take my family comment seriously? It was certainly the last thing I imagined coming from the little specist… I turned around to question her, but she was already busy stacking boxes into a makeshift watchtower. I figured I shouldn’t bother her about it. Whether it was sincere or in jest, she’d probably deny it either way. It was a good note to leave things off on anyway, so I searched for an open spot to rest. Sandra had occupied one corner with a makeshift bedding of cardboard from the banana packaging, Heba was oddly splayed between two crates, and Elizabeth looked like she was a little cloud stuffed into a T-shirt near Bon.
 
    I didn’t even have to say anything before the large cat noticed me looking around, “Come, you are always welcome with Bonolo…” She flicked her tail while opening her arms wide from her position on the floor. I can’t say I loved the idea of being squeezed to death at night, but the furred bear trap was growing on me. Even if the notion of making some hobo bedding like Sandra might be the better option, her delight just from seeing me won me over. I hadn’t even fully laid down by her before she scooped me up. I was pulled in so tight I started to fear just how badly a peak-health Bon might ensnare me. Before I could voice any protest, Heba jerked her head from her awkward position to call out tiredly, “Get a room you two!” I felt Bon pull me in closer, almost protectively as she called back, “We are in a room, just like all of you!” The hyena clearly wasn’t up to it, as she just grumbled and laid back down.
 
    Laying down, my body started to register just how worn-out I was. I still had makeshift bandages underneath the bizarre deliveryman uniform draped over me. Mercifully this fact hadn’t left the lion squeezing me, as she made sure to avoid my upper back. Still somewhat reluctantly, I let myself melt into the woman grappling me. I spoke up quietly, “This is just for warmth, right?” Bon looked down at me before answering half committedly, “Yes, it is for warmth…” Even if it no one else believed it, I appreciated her indulging my cover story. “And maybe more…” She whispered back.
 
    I tried to ignore that addition, but I have to imagine my face must have gone red. Still, no one could see that through both the darkness and the living blanket wrapping her arms around me. Focusing on slowing my own breathing, I was out like a light. Not even awake long enough to fully consider the awkward scenario I was in.
 
 
    It’s hard to imagine with how I met all these woman, things had ended up like this. Amicable. Willing to joke around. Even if we were on the run together, the sheer fact none of them wanted to skin me alive was a miracle. Did I deserve that kind of forgiveness? Maybe not. But did I deserve what was forced on me? No. So, even though I want to sit around detangling this knot of disbelief, I’m making a conscious decision not to focus on it. I’m already in this mess, no getting out of it now. And even if I could separate myself from them and this life, I wouldn’t. We’re in this together now. So enough of this, I’ll get back to describing what happened.
 
 
    Eventually, my eyes cracked open. It was the kind of sleep where it felt like I had merely closed my eyes for a second, and yet the faint orange glow of sunlight was already seeping in through the cracks around me. The flashlight was off, hopefully because Skylar had shut it off rather than letting the battery drain. I moved to rub my eyes, but found my arms tightly locked in place by the hunter snoring contentedly beside me. I tried to wriggle free, but she didn’t budge in the slightest.

I wasn’t moving anytime soon.
 
    We were in no rush, so it seemed like a shame to wake Bon up if I didn’t have to. But that meant I was strangely stuck to the floor like this. I thought about going back to sleep, but I already felt too awake to nod off again. Left without anything better to do, I strained my eyes to see if anyone else was up and about.
 
    It looked like Heba was still unconscious judging from the leg I spotted twisting out from behind a crate. Sandra was snoozing underneath her cardboard pile, her fin the only thing really telling me she was buried in there. Oh? But it looked like Skylar was curled up in a banana crate, one she likely emptied herself. So who was supposed to be on watch?
 
    Straining my neck against the affectionate binding, I spotted some of the telltale white wool of Elizabeth. At first I thought she was asleep, but she was laying down and doing something just out of sight. Working on something? Either way her hands seemed to be busy with something blocked by the rest of her body. She wasn’t very far away, so I tried to get her attention. I made sure to restrain my voice, “Psst, hey, Elizabeth, Liz!”
 
    I could have mistaken the ewe for a cat, because she nearly leapt in the air when she heard me. She looked around in confusion for a second before she spotted me and stopped swiveling her head. I managed to stiffly shake a hand from my position as she seemed to realize I was awake, even if still floorbound. “Anon, what are you doing d-down there?” She whispered hoarsely. I returned her concern with a bit of casual grogginess, “As you can see, I’m kind of stuck.” I used my eyes to motion towards my sleeping captor, “She’s certainly enjoying it anyway.” I tried to ignore just how tightly she was pressed against me as I kept a straight face for the sheep in front of me.
 
    She hesitated before responding with a small smile, “We-well, it’s nice to see everybody getting along.” I couldn’t argue with that, “Yeah, it’s nice…” The awkwardness of my position sank in during the silent pause that followed. Being restrained by a sleeping captor was a new way to hold a conversation. I tried to mitigate the oddity by asking her a question, “So, what were you doing back there a moment ago?” Even under her excess of wool from being on the road so long, I could see her face redden. “Uh-h… well… y-you saw tha-that?” Whatever she was doing couldn’t have been that big of a deal, “Saw what? I don’t exactly have the best view from here.” That seemed to fail at calming her down, as she could hardly speak clearly, “It-t really is no-nothing, I’m uh, just uh, keeping w-watch for Sky-sky-skylar okay?”
 
    I probably wouldn’t have noticed it if she wasn’t swaying nervously, but I spotted something held behind her back. Whatever it was it looked rolled up. I made my best guess despite her attempt at hiding it, “Are you reading something back there?” Her first response was to quickly withdraw what she was holding further behind her back, realizing she was caught. “Ummm w-well…” Seeing that she wasn’t eager to divulge this information, I tried to lighten the mood, “Hey, I’m hardly in a position to judge anyone when I’m a living Teddy Bear right now.” That got a weak laugh out of her. “I, I just, w-well I was watching you and…” She gestured her arms as if the connection was obvious, but I was struggling to figure what she was getting at.
 
    She flashed a pen in her hand as she spoke up, “You’re the one w-who writes every night, so… I thought I’d tr-try it.” I probably looked a little dumbfounded after she said that. Occasionally someone made a passing comment about my writing, but I hadn’t expected something positive. Excited to hear that, my voice raised a little, “Oh, that’s nothing to be ashamed of, that’s great.” I gave an almost sideways thumbs-up to try and express my interest from my limited position. She leaned in before whispering to me, “Just don’t t-tell Heba.”
 
    “Yeah, I can do that. Otherwise she might throw it out a car window…” Elizabeth seemed to deflate now, getting less self-conscious. “We wouldn’t want that…” She chuckled a little afterwards, but it still felt forced. Was she telling me everything? It was flimsy logic, but I knew all too well what it was like to write late at night. Especially when I first started, it was rarely about anything good. Even now as I write this, I’m only really doing it because of something I’ve got mixed feelings about. So if my guess was correct, she probably had something on her mind, something she didn’t expect to be able to discuss with anyone. However, I was in a position to listen.
 
    Sounding more serious than I intended, I whispered back, “What were you writing about?” The sound of rattling rails and discordant snoring reclaimed the air as she considered how to answer me for a moment. It looked like she was about to just turn around before she let out a sigh, “So, y-you remember I told you I was in college before this all h-happened?” Honestly it was easy to forget that fact when she was so small, but I still remembered. “Yeah?” Her gaze seemed to lower to her feet as she continued. “Well, I’m sure that ju-just like me, y-you weren’t thinking about having kids so early…” Her hands wrapped around the generous padding around her stomach, something difficult to see through the fluff.
 
    I decided not to speak, while I had spent my fair share of time writing about that same subject, I had a feeling she just wanted someone to listen. Now she was more somber, her stuttering becoming suppressed, “I always wanted to have a family of my own, but I was s-still figuring out what I wanted to do with m-my life…” She looked up, only a little to glance at me, “I really shouldn’t be bothering you w-with this, I know you’re not any better off…” With that she brought her head back down to study the floor, “I… I just wish things had been different...”
 
    I was starting to consider waking up the cat gripping me, because damn if I didn’t just want to hold her. I always figured everyone else had these children on their minds, they were pregnant for god’s sake, but we avoided the subject normally. Even if I thought I was ready for this conversation, writing about it really hadn’t prepared me for it. This wasn’t like my speech to Heba in the van, this was much more… delicate. Pausing on this thought, I realized she wasn’t talking anymore. This was my time to speak. “You’re right, I think we all wish things had been different.” She looked at me now, her expression uncharacteristically sullen. I motioned for her to come closer as I lowered my voice, “I think you’d find we write about a lot of the same things…”
 
    She was closer now, so I used my limited range to lightly take a hold of her hand, wrapping my fingers around the pen still in her hand. “I’d like to change the past as much as you, but we’ve got to make the best of what we’re left with.” I squeezed her hand a little for emphasis, the words were flowing a little easier now, the same ones I had told myself countless times before “I’m just glad we’ve got each other, things could be a lot worse.”
 
    Looking back on it, I must have sounded like some kind of discount therapist, but she didn’t seem to mind. Without a word, she squeezed my hand back. For a few moments, it seemed like we were both content just to stay like that. After straightening herself out, she let go of my hand before whispering back, “If y-you don’t mind, I’ll go back to writing a little…” I watched her resume her previous position until she turned back to say one more thing. “Thank you, I needed to hear that.”
 
    After that, it was just more time to sit back and be alone with my thoughts. I could still see the ewe’s hands at work, but the bashful writer had moved herself a little to be less visible from my spot. Without anything to do other than ponder, my mind couldn’t help but linger on what I had just said. I didn’t want to linger on the past, my own advice, but I realized I hadn’t really addressed the baby issue. I wanted to think of anything else, but the prospect was difficult.

Sometimes when the train shook and I felt Bon’s stomach push against me, I could swear I felt the baby kicking.

It was too early for that, right? I’m not an expert, but I told myself it was just my imagination.
 
    Even so, thinking about these children was hardly dwelling on the past. Even if a child between humans and any other species seemed impossible a year ago, it was soon to be my reality.
 
    Mercifully, a sudden jolt tore my mind from the subject. I nearly skidded along the ground with Bon as the train’s momentum began to rapidly drop. With a groan Bon woke up while Elizabeth rapidly pocketed her scrap paper. Soon everyone was shook awake as Bon let me free from her iron grip to stretch. Sandra erupted from her impromptu pile of bedding to assess the situation, “What’s happening?” With the door slid shut, the only thing we all knew for sure was that we were slowing down. Sandra pointed to the hyena with wild bed-head pulling herself from the crates, “Help me with the door, we gotta get a look out there.” Heba simply called back, “Can’t it wait five minutes?” Despite her comment Heba begrudgingly trudged over to help the shark push the door open.
 
    Outside was a lot of gravel and rails. We were clearly in a trainyard of some kind, soon to come to a complete stop. I couldn’t see a lot of detail through the two sentries looking out the cracked door, but clearly Sandra had seen enough, “We should get out of here. What if someone goes looking through here?” Our bleary-eyed crew didn’t have any arguments, but the freshly awoken Skylar had a suggestion, “If we leave, we should try the door on the other side, maybe they won’t see us that way.” Sandra stuck her head out for one last look before turning back to the fire ant, “You’re right, it’s a while before the tree line from here.”
 
    Skylar motioned me over, so I helped her pull the heavy metal door on the other side. Either I’ve been getting stronger living like this, or ants really do have freaky strength, because we managed to crack it open without much difficulty. Great! It looked like that direction had just a few yards of empty gravel before the opening fell to thick woods.
 
    And so, with our new escape route we hoisted boxes full of bananas and empty boxes alike under our arms, into the unknown. While it probably wasn’t a good idea to get caught running from the train with so much of its cargo like that, it really didn’t look like anyone was going to inspect the area. Still, we didn’t want anyone finding us, so we fled into the woods as fast as we could, keeping quiet.
From there, it was back to our old ways. A lot of walking through fallen leaves, a bit of vaguely following the compass north, and mostly keeping quiet. The only thing that had seemed to change from before we boarded the train was the surroundings. It looked like we weren’t totally in the middle of nowhere. For much of our trek there was a highway not too far away, but we figured there was enough trees between us and them it wouldn’t be an issue.
 
    Really throughout that whole day of walking, there was only one noteworthy discovery. A McDonald’s billboard of all things, with “Good Morning Iowa!” written on it in hopes of selling more breakfast sandwiches. So I guess we’re in Iowa right now. I’ll admit it took the combined brain power of Elizabeth, Sandra and me to remember exactly where Iowa was on a map… We were further North, but Canada wasn’t all that much closer. But between the abduction and the random train ride, we were lucky not to be further South.
 
 
It’s been fun recalling that train ride, but little of interest happened the day afterwards. So I think I’ve been delaying the inevitable long enough. I’ll just skip to what’s been weighing on me.
 
 
    The time of day wasn’t easy to tell, the skies had been growing darker since that morning. The wind was only growing colder as the trees seemed to have less and less leaves left. The weather was tolerable, but the added windchill was starting to push it. I had already given Sandra my deliveryman outfit for added warmth, continuing her recent tradition of wearing bizarre outfits for warmth. I was making it well enough with my shirt, and out other coldblood, Skylar, was still clad in her three or four T-shirts from concerts nearly two decades ago. She said she was doing fine, but she had slowed down a bit. I suppose that was true for everyone, walking so long was starting to wear at us.
 
    The sky was a turbulent mix of thick grey clouds, dimming any sunlight as we marched through the layers of leaves. “You know where you’re going?” I nearly yelled, with the clatter of leaves thrown by the wind raising in volume. Sandra with only our cheap compass shouted back, “I’ve got about as much of an idea as the last time you asked that!” Heba couldn’t resist an opportunity to interject, “And by that she means no idea!” The shark turned to give her a piece of her mind before she was halted by the next breeze. This gust didn’t just carry leaves, but a mist of cold rain, peppering the area as it fell. The idea of being soaked in nearly freezing water appealed to none of us, so when Sandra gently suggested, “We need to find some damn shelter!” no one disagreed.
 
    We continued our slog forward and the rain started to grow heavy. I looked around to make sure everyone was keeping pace. But I only counted four heads… Skylar was lagging behind. I turned around against the wind to see her antennas whipping back as she stumbled forward. “You okay?” I called out as I made my way back to her, offering a hand to help her up. She didn’t resist and grabbed my hand, the feeling of her cold exoskeleton reminding me why we had to try and get out of this weather. “Yeah, I’m fine, you’re the one who should be worried with your fleshy legs!” In spite of her arguing, she only gripped against my arm harder, now leaning against me as we walked forward.
 
    I didn’t argue back, I just tried to help her trudge forward. She tried to hide it, but she was definitely shivering against my arm as we walked. I would have settled for a large tree to hide under, but by the time we had caught up with everyone else, Bon had spotted something in the distance, “Could that be of use?” She pointed towards something I couldn’t see through the trees, but we followed her lead. As we got closer, it became apparent there was some kind of clearing surrounded by a dilapidated chain-link fence. Curious, a quick glance revealed heaps of rusted scrap with run-down vehicles between them. Elizabeth spoke up first, “Is this a j-junkyard?” Sandra didn’t respond as she pushed over one of the disintegrating fence posts without much effort, making an entrance.
 
    Skylar besides me yelled above the wind, “Think we could get into one of those wrecks?” Heba wasted no time to pry the door off a partially caved-in Honda from the 90s. While a soaked sheep made her way past me, Skylar tugged my arm, “We should try the pickup truck over there, there won’t be any room for us in that one.” As I watched Sandra squeeze her frame into the vehicle, I realized how valid her point was. I yelled over to the nearly stuck woman, “We’re going to try the other one over there!” She seemed to hear me over the clang of rain against metal because she shouted back, “Sounds like a good idea! But get back here if you can’t get it open, we’ll squeeze you two in!”
 
    With that said the insect wasted no time to drag me towards the abandoned truck. It looked the front was totaled years ago, the paint mostly flaked off, and the windshield a spiderweb of cracks, but the cabin was still in one piece. Skylar hurried towards the door with me in tow before yanking it open with the sound of squealing hinges. She was like a bolt of red lighting as she let go of my arm just to catapult herself into the decaying seat. I was starting to think I underestimated just how badly she wanted to get out of the rain. Following suit, I pulled myself in right behind her and shut the creaking door.
 
    I was still just as wet and cold, and the texture of an abandoned seat was more than a little uninviting, but it was still nice to hear the storm muffled by the metal around me. The wind now only a slight draft. I looked over to the ant with me to see her layers of T-shirts absolutely soaked. Before the added clothes puffed out her appearance a bit, but now the wet shirts only made her look so thin. That left me to my own conundrum, was it better to take my wet clothes off, or keep them on? It’s not like I had a warm fire to bask in… Not to mention how awkward that might be. I was still busy thinking about such a trivial detail when I felt a mass of wet fabric cover my head and block my sight.
 
    “What?” I involuntarily croaked out as I immediately pulled the sopping wet item off my face. I was greeted with the sight of Skylar already peeling off her next shirt. In disbelief I asked her, “Did you really just throw your drenched shirt at me?” Not thinking much of it she replied back, “Yeah, I figured your warmblood was the only way to get these shirts dry.” She was already priming her second shot when I stopped her, “Skylar… do you really think I’m warm enough to dry out clothes?” She lowered her arm before answering me. “…yes?” Her genuine response actually made me laugh, “Even if I was, you can’t just throw your wet clothes at me!”
 
    Her large yellow eyes turned away from me in embarrassment, “Why would I know that? It’s not like I go touching fuzzers everyday…” I joked back, “Thank you, that was a very nice apology.” To emphasize the fact I wasn’t trying to start another squabble, I put a hand on her shoulder. She was down to her last shirt now and considerably less drenched. To my surprise, I could feel her shake under my touch. With a quick glance at the window she was turned towards, I could see her reflection mixed with the raindrops outside. She really must have thought I was warm, because even I could recognize she was trying to hide her face.
 
    Realizing I was only going to make things awkward again, I retracted my hand quickly and tried to focus on what was important, “Are you okay? You’ve got to be cold.” She turned around with a squeak on the crumbling plastic-leather seat. Even with her chitinous features she managed to pout clearly, “Yeah, of course I’m cold!” Her antennae seemed curled like fists, ready to go at a moment’s notice.
 
    It was strange. Even if Skylar rivaled Heba in how confrontational she could be, she was mostly upbeat. I think the only time that really fell was during our talk on the train a couple nights before, and even then it didn’t last long. Even if she took every opportunity to use some kind of species-based slur, she was still with us. Hell, she was still following us into Canada, one of the coldest countries you could ask for. With the rhythmic pattern of rain buffeting the metal shell around us, I realized I never really asked her what she saw in any of us.
 
    I noticed Skylar wringing out what moisture she could from her last shirt, thinking of how to ask her. Instead she muttered something first, “I bet Elizabeth could dry clothes…” I snickered at the thought, getting her attention, “And why is that?” She looked away from me again, apparently less confident in her logic now, “Well she’s got more fur, so that means she’s warmer, right?” I had to hold back laughing again, “Skylar, you’re scaring me, did you even go to high school?” She responded indignantly, “I did! But like my mother said, ‘Ain’t a thing you needta know ‘bout someone with hair on their back.’” She rubbed her arms before continuing, “Too bad she didn’t have much to say about seasons changing.”
 
    It looked like our only goal was to dry off then, so maybe talking to keep our minds off it was the best choice. It seemed like her apparent lack of knowledge on anyone with hair was a good opportunity. “You know, if you’re a little more interested in learning about a mammal like me, I’ve got nothing better to do than answer your questions.” To my surprise, she seemed to take my offer seriously, putting a finger on her chin while she kept her arm-rubbing up with the other. “Well if I’m stuck with you, I guess I could learn a little about how your people live…” I’d known the ant long enough I knew she didn’t mean any harm in the “your people” remark, so I let her ponder while I attempted wringing my own clothes out. I tried not to think about what might be living inside the ancient seats of a junkyard car I was using like a sponge.
 
    I was adjusting the wet bandages underneath my shirt when Skylar fired off her first question, “So if you don’t have an abdomen, where do you keep your stomach?” Okay, not what I expected, but I did in fact know where a stomach was. “It’s uh, kind of in the center, above the legs below the chest.” I pointedly vaguely to try and make my point. This seemed to be more than enough to impress the inquisitive ant as she fired off another question, “How come your hairs so different from everyone else?” That one was less precise. “You mean the fact it’s mostly on my head?” Her arm-rubbing turned more towards nervous shuffling of her hands as she elaborated, “Well it’s not just that, it’s… smoother than others…” Her voice started to get lower and fainter, “…silkier… uh… it ˢᵐᵉˡˡˢ different…” At least that’s my best guess what she said, considering her voice had dropped to near whispering.
 
    I tried not to look too deeply into what those whispers might have been as I conjured the best answer I could, “Honestly, best I can give you is ‘because I’m human,’ I’m not sure beyond that.” As her rather intense gaze moved up towards the top of my head, I tried to change the subject, “So uh, just how important is your abdomen anyway? I figure I get at least one question here.” Immediately she looked more self-conscious as she twisted around to examine herself. “Well, if you really don’t know, I’d literally die without it… and I guess it’s a good thing you probably haven’t figured out it’s where I keep the eggs.”
 
    She started saying something about how she was worried I had noticed how swollen it had become, but I was at a loss for words. I never really considered, would I really be the father to something that hatched from an egg? Or uh, “Someone” I guess is better. Regardless, this little epiphany was beyond strange. Would I need to like keep them warm? Is that a thing insects even do? Oh god, and how many? I knew Skylar had a lot of siblings… but the exact number was still unknown, and I was scared to ask now.
 
    She must have noticed my attention drifted, because she asked another question, this one more pertinent. “Do you… You do know about eggs, right?” She eyed me suspiciously as I gave an honest answer, “I mean, I learned about bird eggs in school?” Now it was Skylar’s turn to laugh at me, “You’ve got a lot to learn then, because avians are so much simpler than insects.” I was ready to ask her a question, when she stopped me, “Look if you want to know more about me, maybe we can arrange… a trade?” Her antennas curled like question marks as she looked at me, now more noticeably shivering. I was getting better at reading her face, but I was having trouble guessing where she was going with this. “What kind of trade are we talking about?”
 
“I want some of your heat.”
 
    Even after that bit of clarification, I found myself even more lost. “How exactly, do you plan on collecting something like that?” She seemed to get upset at how I said that, “I’m just talking about your arm, give me a break!” She was clearly in high spirits despite her hand rubbing for warmth, “Do we have a deal?” Her proposal was a little odd, surely she knew I wouldn’t hesitate to help her if she was literally freezing? I still think she was just too proud to ask for my help in any straightforward fashion. “I don’t think I’ve got a lot to spare right now, but yeah, I’ll take that deal.”
 
    She looked proud of herself as she grabbed my arm, greedily wrapping it in both of her own. She was like a vice made of ice, but she seemed to be too preoccupied sucking any heat out of my arm to notice my shock. “Are you sure you’re not warm enough to dry out a couple wet shirts?” I replied back shakily, “I’m already working on my own, maybe later.” She only gripped me tighter before responding contentedly, “Okay, you can ask me anything as long as you keep this arm over here.”
 
    And so I asked a few questions. I started with a simple enough one. I asked her, “Just how long does a fire ant egg take to hatch?” She told me, “Well normally it takes two to three weeks.” It didn’t escape my attention she was working her way up my arm as she said that, but I tried to keep her little game going. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel quite serious to me, whether I liked it or not, I would be living out the answers to these questions soon enough.
 
    I took a deep breath before the next question, “And uh, just how many are typical?” She nonchalantly answered back, now leaning over the divider between our seats, “Oh well, I’ve heard of some of my aunts having as many as six at a time.” SIX at a time? That information, hardly put me at ease. Maybe it was a good thing there was some human genetics in the mix here. I wasn’t a biologist, but I had to hold onto the hopes that might skew the number a little lower.
 
    I was probably breathing a little heavier then, as more questions started to bubble up in my mind. “Is it difficult… uh ‘having’ the kids?” Skylar, normally more observant, didn’t seem to pick up on the distress creeping into my voice. It was like she was in a trance, mechanically moving closer to the heat near her. I considered snapping my fingers to get her attention before she answered me calmly, “Oh, uh no, not all. Us insects know how to carry kids, the whole things easier on us.”
 
    A very important question entered my mind at that point, one I was hesitant to ask. “So if it’s such a different kind of pregnancy, how long do they normally… take to come out?” I feel like I had nearly lost her at that point, she was practically leaning into my chest while she spoke drowsily, “Mmm, well really, I should have laid them by now… So I’m not sure what the deal is…”
 
    Wait, did that mean… “You mean it could be ANY day now?” I asked her, louder than I had meant to. She didn’t seemed bothered however, she looked ready to fall asleep. “Yeah? Why else would I need so much sugar?” She was still clinging to my arm, so I managed to pull her back, “Why didn’t you say anything?” She looked like she was in a daze now, antennae drooping. “Well, it’s not like we’re gonna go to the hospital or anything… besides, eggs are so much more resilient than your babies, don’t even gotta feed ‘em till they hatch…”
 
    I wanted to disbelieve her with how quickly she seemed to be getting lethargic, but I’m fairly certain a nearly passed-out Skylar is more open than a normal one. No energy to hide anything. Similarly, sitting down in that seat long enough after a day of nonstop hiking had me growing tired, even if I was realizing just how impending the BIRTH of my first (or possibly first six) children was. Should I tell the others? Would it just be an unnecessary worry for them? My mind quickly wore itself out as I tried to process so many ideas at the same time. Meanwhile Skylar seemed unimpeded by any of this, she looked hypnotized by her newfound influx of warmth.
I sat like that for a while, deep in thought while Skylar leeched the heat from my arm. Eventually she looked up at me slowly and broke the silence, “Can I… Could I put my head in your lap? It’s not part of the deal… but I’m still cold…” I’ll admit, at the time I half processed what she said. I just nodded as she planted her head down, nearly tickling my face with her antennas.
 
    If she was right, they were EGGS, so it’s not like I’d suddenly have six more mouths to feed. But I’m sure I’d have to keep them warm, protected. I couldn’t just let them freeze. And then what? I had less then a month until they hatched… IF they hatch. Was anything spliced between such different species viable? If something was wrong, could I even tell underneath that casing?
Needless to say, I was incredibly overwhelmed.
 
    And I remained that way until I felt a gentle tug at my scalp. It appeared Skylar had removed an arm from her death grip to play around with a strand of my hair. She spoke up almost deliriously, “Maybe this is why mama said to never hang around people like you…” I looked down at her, feeling a little relieved at least someone was having fun. “And why is that?” I asked her. She took a moment to answer me, too distracted by the long hairs between her fingers, “’Cuz you’re TOO warm… Not a good idea to heat up so fast… It’s kind of like the time I wen-” And like that she was asleep, propped up awkwardly in my lap. At least she wasn’t grabbing me in her sleep like Bon.
 
    The rest of that night, I pondered, brooded, and wondered in equal amounts. I wanted to imagine raising these kids. Seeing them grow and be happy. But how could I do it? I hardly knew anything about being a father. Not to mention my entire life was tossed away, with little left to my name. All I really had with me was an over attached lion, a manic hyena, a controlling shark, a little sheep, and the ant collapsed onto me who believed herself to be the “superior species.”
 
    As I write this, I’m disappointed I felt that way. These people weren’t a burden, it was a blessing to have anyone with me. They could have left me behind at any point. I should thank them for sticking with me, not scorn them for having kids. Kids none of us asked for… I guess a real commando type would consider abandoning them, but I could never imagine doing that. Leaving them to die… I wasn’t a monster, even if still feel like one after what they did to me.
 
    I’m not going to lie, my strategy of suppressing these thoughts might not be the best in the long run, but I can’t let them get to me. Not when we still have so much at stake. Hey, maybe if I really make it out of this I’ll hire a real therapist.
 
    That night was unpleasant, torn between visions of an idyllic family and research labs. But eventually, despite the occasional flick of a feeler against my face, I fell asleep. I have to imagine the cozy bug on top of me was the only reason I fell asleep at all. Seeing her so happy to even be near me kept me from feeling like I had totally slipped back to that place we had left months ago.
 
    First thing I knew I was being shook awake, by a panicked ant inches from my face. Memories of her contented face from earlier resurfaced in contrast to the frantic woman in front of me now. It was easy to see her large yellow eyes tearing up, but I had trouble hearing what she was saying. It was like my head was in a fog.
 
    My eyes roamed the little compartment for answers. I could see she had two white objects wrapped in one of her arms. Each was roughly the size of a football, smooth, and sort of shaped like a pill.


Two eggs.
 
 
    I wasn’t dreaming. I could feel her hand on my shoulder gripping me tightly, pulling, pushing, and doing anything else she could manage to get me awake. The realization of what was happening struck me abruptly, and I began to process what she was saying, as if an internal switch had been flipped. “-ke up, wake up! This is your fault!”
 
    That alone was enough to send my mind reeling back, retreating from the moment. The sounds of authoritative voices over loudspeakers echoed in my head as I saw the panic and tears in her eyes. I knew this was my fault the whole fucking time, but now she was saying it to me so bluntly… The tight walls and close proximity were repulsively familiar. I could feel my lungs tighten as the breath caught in my throat. I shook my head to push away the thoughts, but it just reminded me of my futile efforts to refuse those damn pills some mornings.
 
    But... I wasn’t there anymore. I left. Things were different now! Not just for me, but for all of us! I tried to claw my way out of my mental mire and react as fast as I could. I forced the air through my chest and said the only thing I could, a desperate apology. “I’m sorry, please, you know I didn’t want to do it! They didn’t give me a choice!” With my heart racing I watched Skylar back off for a second, obviously not expecting my sudden reaction.
 
    She pulled away, her antennae previously raised at full alarm drooped slightly as she looked me over, my breathing already heavy. She lowered her voice this time, but kept a bit of a pout, “I… I was saying how if you hadn’t gotten me so warm, I probably wouldn’t have had these in my sleep.” She leaned forward a bit, showing me the strange white shapes. I didn’t respond. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I felt embarrassment paralyze me as I realized she wasn’t making the exact accusation I had been dreading for the longest time. With the way I looked, she must have thought I was having a night-terror. While I tried to get a hold of myself, Skylar’s expression softened, antennas limp.
 
    After a moment she took a deep breath and continued with eyes still watering and a wavering voice, “I know… I know I should have told you, or anyone, about this earlier… I was just hoping the day would never come. It’s stupid, but they had already taken way longer than anyone else in my family took, so I thought… maybe the next day, maybe the next week... Or something st-stupid like that…” She wiped her eyes as she spoke in a hushed tone, “I should be the one apologizing...”
 
    Watching her hold the two pods… the two children… her, my, our children… I felt the need to speak, no amount of repressed memories were going to strangle my voice. “No don’t say that.” I spoke softly, trying to lower the tension in our tiny metal chamber, “You couldn’t have done anything about it, and telling anybody wouldn’t have changed anything.”
 
    Her gaze moved away from me as I continued. I was trying to mend the situation I knew I was responsible for, even if neither of us asked for it. “Even if the added heat really sped things up a little, this is one of the better times. We have a roof over our heads, it could be worse.” She turned her face back up to me, any façade of anger draining away now. “You know this is temporary… We’ll be leaving anytime.” Despite my best efforts, I think my eyes were watering too. “You said it yourself, it’ll be easy taking care of them.” I must have spent too much time around Heba, because I tried to use a little humor, “Insects know how to do it right, right?”
 
    Before I knew it, she had her free arm wrapped around me, “You always were smart for someone with hair between his ears.” I held her back, feeling my very unconventional progeny pressed between us. She whispered to me with some of her composure returning, “I’m sorry, I know I must be hard to put up with sometimes…” I didn’t hesitate to answer her back, “I could say the same thing, but I’m glad we’re in this together.”
 
    We stayed that way, holding each other for assurance. The dim glow of the sun just about ready to break the horizon slowly crested upward, tinting the dark sky lighter and lighter tones of blue as we listened to each other breathe. It surprised me just how tightly she squeezed me, but I didn’t care. I think we both needed it, to feel like we weren’t alone in this.
 
Even through the cracked and ruined windshield, the sunrise was beautiful.
 
    Once the morning had nearly begun, Skylar broke the silence. “You’re lucky it’s just twins… we could have had a lot more on our hands…” I forced a light chuckle, at least she was thinking positively. Still, her acceptance surprised me. “You know, I’d understand if… you didn’t want to keep them.” I looked down at the peculiar babies between us, and she just sighed, “If my mom could raise 12 kids, I think I… we… can handle two.” Oh, with such a mix of emotions, I’m sure I could have talked for hours, but we were interrupted by a loud clunk and squealing hinges.
 
    A hyena poked her head through the door behind me, “Hey, we gotta get moving you two lovebirds. Did she show you some of her banana tricks th-” But she stopped mid-sentence as we turned around, eggs in hand. She froze up immediately, “Is that? Uh… You uh, you two take your time.” She closed the door behind her as she sprinted back towards the other wrecked vehicle. I took a deep breath before reopening the door myself, turning back to address the ant with me, “It looks like we might as well break the news to everyone.” Instead of saying anything she thrust something into my arms, two somethings.
 
    Skylar spoke to me slowly, “I think it’s best you hold them… it’s not nearly as warm as Texas here and you might as well put that warmblood to use.” I could only stutter at such a direct sign of trust, “R-really?” She nodded, her antennas swaying with her head. There was still a lot more to say, but we were both reminded we weren’t the only ones who’d want to hear about this. So, with my arms delicately cradling the two little pods, I walked through the chill air. Fire ant at my side.
 
    Once we rejoined with the others, everyone reacted in their own ways as they emerged from their makeshift shelter. Sandra seemed to quickly grasp what I was holding, but she chose to keep quiet. She had a look of disbelief on her face. Heba looked anxious, unsure what to do with herself. Bon on the other hand, was the first to speak. “What have you found in the wild, can they be eaten?” Even if she was half my size, Skylar folder her arms and glared at the lion towering above her. Bon looked at me in confusion until I spoke up, “Bon, they’re eggs…” I could visibly see the connection form in her head as she looked between me and the perturbed insectoid beside me. “Oh… OH! They are lovely! Lovely…children?” She was doing her best to recover from her blunder, but she still seemed equal parts flustered and unsure if she was reading the situation right.
 
    Mercifully, she was saved by the ewe walking out from behind her, a tangle of previously wet wool that had dried at odd angles. “Are they okay? Are t-they hea-healthy?” I kneeled down to show her what was in my arms. I didn’t answer her however, because if anyone had an idea, it would be Skylar. Elizabeth marveled at the new life as Skylar answered honestly, “I’m not a doctor, but they seem fine enough to me.” The sheep remained fixated as she responded slowly, “That’s g-good… I was worri-…curious what uh… h-half human gene-gen-genetics might mean.” Both of us remained silent as she elaborated a little. “If they’re in e-eggs, then maybe they’re more l-like the mother?”
 
    Without a better response to give her I shrugged, “I’ll take your word for it.” She broke her gaze to look back at me sheepishly, “I-it’s just a g-guess…” Skylar, although well-meaning, was a little blunt in replying, “Look, if you’re worried about your own kids, I’m sure if anything can come from me and a human, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Elizabeth blushed furiously, probably feeling like she had been found out. “T-thanks that’s n-nice, but it was j-just an obs-observation, nothing e-else…” Then it was Sandra’s turn to intervene as Elizabeth found difficulty speaking.
 
    The large shark crouched down to get a look for herself. “Do you need anything, to keep them safe?” She looked up at Skylar with a surprising amount of concern, “I really didn’t expect this so quickly…” I could see Skylar begin to avoid eye contact after that statement, she had made it clear that was a touchy subject. So, I stepped in, “Yeah, I don’t think any of us expected this so soon. But there’s good news, right Skylar?” The copper ant looked stunned for a second before she caught onto what I was saying, “Yeah! As I was telling Anon, insects are a resilient people! I’m sure as long as someone keeps them from the weather, they’ll both be fine.” She even flexed a wiry arm as if to emphasize the inherent strength of being an insect.
 
    As anyone might expect, there was a lot of small talk afterwards. Both in that moment, and coming and going in little bursts throughout the day. Too much for me to write down tonight. A lot of it was Skylar retreading what little she knew about the two eggs. I’m not sure I even need to summarize the rest of the day, seeing as nothing has meaningfully changed about how we travel. The only difference being the extra cargo I've got wrapped in my arms. Now we're all huddled in a thick grove of trees with crumpled boxes as our only source of bedding, so I don’t think I’d enjoy elaborating on our ramshackle conditions very much.
 
    Instead I’ll dwell on the two little things pressed against my chest as I write this. Feeling their weight, I’d say they’re denser than I imagined. Not enough to make it difficult, but enough to keep them firmly planted in my arms. I find myself expecting to feel some kind of movement coming from within, but Skylar tells me it’ll be a while before that happens. At least she thinks so. One of the few things we really know for certain is that these aren’t standard kids for a human, or possibly for a fire ant. Our only real clue we’ve found was earlier today, before we set up camp for the night.
 
    I had been carrying these two for a while, just trying to focus on moving through the day. Eventually Skylar asked to carry them for a while herself. She still has her layers of t-shirts, so she used her outermost layer like a papoose, bundling them on her back with ease. She thanked me for how warm I had kept them, and we continued onward like nothing had happened. About an hour later, she went out of her way to tell me, “You had to be lying. You definitely could have dried out those clothes, these two are still warm!” We got some weird looks for how that sounded out of context, but no one really questioned it. It was only much later, not long before we were finding a place to stop in these endless woods, that Skylar grabbed my shoulder, insisting I stopped.
 
    She looked baffled, “Just here, feel these…” Without another word she slung the two eggs off her back and put them in my arms. “What, are you worried they’re cold?” I held onto them protectively as she seemed frustrated, “No, in fact, they’re not cold at all…” I wrapped my fingers around them, and sure enough, they were as warm as I had left them. She spoke with uncertainty as she continued, “I think…  I think they take after their father.” Were they really making their own warmth? It’s hardly scientific, but the group consensus is that these little ones might actually be warm blooded. None of us can find another explanation...
 
    Elizabeth seemed interested in the prospect, curious what secrets these two might be hiding underneath this white exterior. Even though being near them seems to make Heba particularly uncomfortable, she managed to yell something out to Skylar. “Maybe they’ll have their daddy’s hair!” Oh, I’m not sure if Skylar was going to faint or try to kill Heba, but she was left speechless. Her antennas even shot straight up and twitched with either restrained fury or fear. Thankfully she was persuaded to take a few deep breaths before putting the notion aside.
 
    So now, I’m sitting on a stump, with the two bundles of warmth against me. It’s weird, but I think the strangest aspect is that I should be finding their warmth unusual, something I can’t imagine them without. That’s not the only expectation I’ve found I’m still holding. Even though Skylar assures me, “You could juggle ant eggs they’re so tough.” I still feel the need to hold them so delicately…
 
    “Them”… I nearly forgot it wasn’t that long ago me and Skylar were being asked about names… I turned to Skylar expectantly, but she answered that one plainly, “How can we name ‘em if we don’t even know their genders yet?” I guess I couldn’t argue with that, but the idea still feels odd to me. Although she warned me that the odds of females are so high, there’s little chance she couldn’t come up with them now. Still, I guess it gives her more time to think of a name… Maybe she’ll even ask me to name one of them.
 
    Just the thought of that has me repeating in my head, “I shouldn’t say that. shouldn’t think that!” Even if I tell myself I’ve moved past that, that they don’t really feel disgusted by me every time I turn my back, it’s hard to accept. I would have never imagined naming my own child, let alone seeing one, months ago. And then there’s that, “my” child. It still doesn’t feel right thinking of them as my own, I’m not the one who carried any of them so long.
 
Although, I guess I’m literally carrying these two nameless eggs now. So it’s not much, but it’s a start. A little bit of hope.
 
    Speaking of hope, I find myself hoping the best for these two unknown lives that have yet to even really start. While the idea of genetic defects hasn’t left my mind, I’d like to think some horrendous government lab would at least make ideal results. Could something as convenient as warm blood in an insect be a coincidence?
 
    As I sit here and wonder, wonder what could be, I can’t help but wish I could peer inside these little mystery packages. Could they really have hair? What size might they grow up to be? Hell, are they even guaranteed to have an exoskeleton? Even if I was a biologist, I don’t think I could make a guess here.
 
    Thinking back, if you thrust these two into my arms the second we escaped, it would have torn me apart. But now, I’m feeling that instinctual spark of paternal determination. Logically, I should be fixated on how little chance there is of anyone of us escaping, let alone making a decent life for them… but instead, I feel even more incentive to succeed. The count has gone up from the six of us to eight… and that number’s going to raise considerably…
 
    It’s overwhelming, mind-numbing, and all around difficult to even comprehend, yet I don’t feel the burden I expected. I suppose in this long series of unfortunate events, I can at least take comfort in the fact the first to be born are as easy to take care of as these two.
 
    Everything about it seems foolish, but I’m already growing attached to these two newborns that can’t even look back at me. Not yet anyway. To my amazement Skylar seems to actually want my support… and I don’t plan on disappointing her. Maybe I should thank her when she wakes up? It’s a complex situation, but after writing about it so long, I’m starting to realize just how much trust she’s put into me.
 
    Frankly, I could keep writing for another night about all this, but the sun is starting to rise again. I’ll make sure to keep these two close today… It’ll probably be cold again and it’s the least I can do.
 
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    Not too much to report tonight. It’s been a few days since I last wrote something. Tonight is calm and I’m not even the one on watch, but I feel like writing for writing’s sake. I don’t think anyone really minds if I do anymore. Skylar has the twins nestled with her for now. She’s been much more eager to hold the two lately, now that we know they’re like little space heaters. She still has me hold them whenever ever she gets worried it’s too cold out, but it’s starting to look like they’ll be fine with a little swaddling.
 
    Oh yeah, it didn’t feel right calling the two just “eggs,” so I’ve taken to at least calling them “the twins.” Still not a real name, but it carries a little affection with it. Seems to have stuck with everyone else so far, although I guess we’ll eventually be substituting that with real names.
 
    It hasn’t even been a week and I’m already acting like the stereotype, feeling the need to prattle on about the children now in my life. So I’ll try to cut that out. I want to say “new father,” but that feels a bit generous. It’s technically true, but it doesn’t feel right. Maybe that will change in time… or maybe not… I don’t know. Hell, I probably actually became a father to someone I'll never meet before this...
 
    I said I wanted to cut it out, so I’ll try to change the subject. Along the same line of things that don’t feel right, is our living conditions on the trail lately. It turns out wet conditions don’t mix well with cardboard, so our only source of insulation beyond the clothes on our backs is degrading rapidly. Although wet, the weather has gotten a little warmer recently, so none of us have found ourselves frozen yet. I can’t imagine it will stay that way for long however. The only good thing about the damp conditions is that fresh water is never too far away.
 
    Food on the other hand, has been eluding us more often. We’ve been rationing what’s left of the bananas from the train, but I don’t think they’ll last long. Foraging is getting more difficult with the changing seasons. That hasn’t bothered Bon though, the lioness is loving the lack of competition now that Skylar is preoccupied with the twins. She of course could still go with the them wrapped around her back, but Bon has been especially vocal that, “A mother deserves to have time with her children.”
 
    Pickings have been slim, but Bon has been beaming with pride whenever we bring back whatever questionable mushrooms we might have found.  Bananas and mushrooms, an interesting blend. But we’ve got one more exotic ingredient Heba’s been helping me gather. Garbage. We’re already back to scrounging the occasional roadside park or remote dumpster, and Heba’s still the most willing one to help me rummage for anything edible. It may make us look twice as homeless, but sometimes a half-eaten pizza makes it worthwhile.
 
    Strangely, I think I’ve talked more with Heba inside of a dumpster than I have outside of one recently. It might be the minute amount of privacy or the need to think about something else when you’re shoveling garbage, but it’s not a bad way to pass the time. She’s been a bit more open with me recently, and there’s conversation in particular that lead to this. I get the feeling Heba would rather I didn’t write any of this down, but it’s probably best for both of us to ruminate on it a little.
 
    We had discovered a small roadside park. I wasn’t very interested in reading about the fun facts about the Missouri river somewhere in the distance, but Sandra was pleased to find a little map. It didn't have a very wide scope of the area, but it focused on the many small rivers of the region, something meant for hikers to use. It’s exactly the kind of thing that would be useless if we were still on the road, but it’s proven useful over our otherwise vaguely aimed hikes. Now I wasn't the one looking for maps that day, I was doing the dirty work with Heba.
 
    We were searching through the myriad of black bags and discarded boxes strewn throughout the rusted dumpster. Except at the time, I wasn’t finding much more than wrappers. Perhaps it’s a bit concerning how much I’ve grown to tolerate dumpster diving. The hyena seemed to be a natural scavenger though, as she wasn’t bothered in the slightest. She looked to be in high spirits, as it didn’t take long for her to break the sound of rustling bags with something else to snicker at, “Maybe it’d be better if it rained more often, poor little picnickers would have to throw away their ‘ruined’ food more often!” I guess that was closer to observational humor, but whatever, she was laughing quite hard at it anyway. I called back to her less enthusiastically, “I just wish someone would throw out some old clothes, we all look terrible. Rummaging through trash isn’t helping either.”
 
    She had a sneer on her face when I looked back up at her. “Yeah, well maybe you’d have some more clothes if Skylar wasn’t hogging like FOUR shirts.” Her laughter sounded forced now. Was she seriously upset about that? “Hey, you know she’s cold blooded, she needs them more than any of us.” She stopped sorting to give me a glare, “Well the way I hear it, those two hybrid things she has stuffed on her back keep her plenty warm.” I was taken aback to say the least, “Two hybrid things? Come on, they’re children Heba!” She scoffed at me, “Yeah, well I don’t remember any of us asking for the little parasites!”
 
    I tried to reason with her, “You know as well as I do they’re innocent in this! If Skylar wants to keep them, we shouldn’t hold it against her.” She looked away from me, sounding almost disappointed, “I think I pegged you right way back then, you are a little Mormon. Don’t want any of your wives getting rid of your precious babies.” I’m not proud of it, but I’ll admit I was starting to lose my temper after that. I really thought we had put that in the past by now. “Damnit Heba, we’ve talked about this. What’s gotten into you lately?” It was hardly a secret she shied away every time the twins were brought up. Given how often either me or Skylar were holding them, it made sense neither of us had been talking with the hyena recently.
 
    She turned around now just to look me dead in the eyes. “You wanna cry more about how hard it is being a father to kids you’ll never meet?” It’s like she wanted a fight! Her words even lacked their usual veneer of humor. “Heba… PLEASE, if you wanted to insult me, you could have done it anytime. Why are you getting so hostile over this?” She was laughing like a maniac then, closer to cackling, “Yeah, you’re right Sherlock, I don’t like seeing those eggs around. I especially don’t like the way she parades them around, like I’m not the one who will be giving up my share of the food when they hatch! She should have left ‘em back in that junkyard.”
 
    I don’t like seeing it this way, but maybe it was a good thing she broke down on me rather than someone else. I’m sure half our group would have ended up brawling if she tried this with them. I kept my patience as she continued her rant, “Hey, maybe if I find a coat hanger, I can avoid this mess myself!” She forced a bitter chuckle after that, her green eyes twitching. I had a suspicion where this might go if I didn’t calm her down, so I tried to play diplomat again.
 
    Was she so upset because they reminded her of her own child? It made sense, she might joke about it, but the subject of her own pregnancy was a topic she despised deeply. I couldn’t blame her for that, but she didn’t need to lash out like this. I tried to speak as genuinely as I could, “If you’re really that worried about your own pregnancy, we don’t have to resort to something like that. None of us are alone anymore, we’ve all got each other’s backs in this.” It was a bit of a bold claim, but not unfounded. We had been watching each other’s backs since our first day on the run. She simply crossed her arms before breaking her gaze, “Oh, now you’re already giving me a speech again?”
 
    I never expected this to become a habit, but I needed to try and deescalate this before it was too late. I took a gamble by continuing with a different approach. “Well I’m Mormon after all, so I don’t believe in divorce. You’re stuck with me.” She side-eyed me before answering a little less agitated, “Too bad you didn’t believe in waiting ‘till marriage in the first place… Wouldn't be stuck with this kid then.” I reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, and she threw up one of her arms in response.
 
    I flinched, but she wasn’t aiming for me. She was actually throwing garbage in the air like confetti before putting on a stupid face, “Congratulations, you got me to talk about my problems, are you proud?” Relieved to see any humor come back I felt my shoulders slump, “Yeah, a little.” I pushed my luck by continuing, “But could you please not bring this up to Skylar? I’m sure we can scrap together enough food. She doesn’t need to hear you calling them parasites.” I could see her ears pull back after I said that, “I… I really shouldn’t have said that, alright? It’s easy to forget those bug eggs are somehow related to you.” I answered her sincerely. “Yeah, well it’s not so easy for me to forget about that. But even if they weren’t you can’t go starting fights like that with anyone, please?”
 
    She looked back up at me again, “Okay.” She paused for a second before sighing. “Sorry… maybe I blow up on you because I know you’ll react like this…” It was surprisingly touching to hear that. An odd way of implying trust, but I knew she meant it. I might have let the situation fall into silence after that, but I knew if I didn’t look into this more, things could get worse. I’m not a psychologist, but it was starting to feel like lashing out was Heba’s attempt at a “cry for help” or something like that. I’m basing that off of little more than knowledge from shitty TV shows, but it feels appropriate writing that. She could only redirect her feelings with forced laughter for so long. After rolling the ideas around in my head, I finally answered her back, “You know if you want to talk with someone, I’m here… and you don’t need to try and start a fight to do it.”
 
    Fortunately, that didn’t tip her off into anger again, she actually responded with weak but genuine laughter “Now don't get sappy on me, I already said I was sorry!” I didn’t have to hesitate for that one, “You really didn’t.” She responded flatly, “Oh.” I spoke more softly now, “Come on, just tell me a little. You know if you said any of that to Skylar, you’d have a gallon of venom in you right now. So come on, tell me what’s really bothering you.”
 
    She rubbed the back of her neck before answering me. “Well one, I’m offended you think I couldn’t handle an ant in a fight, and two, I don’t need a therapist who’s crouched in a pile of trash.” I laughed for real at that joke, the first time in a while Heba managed to do that. “You’re also knee deep in garbage, so you’re not in a position to judge. Besides, you don’t have a whole lot of other options.” She wobbled the trash bag I was standing on playfully before responding contrastingly seriously, “I’ll tell you a little, alright?”
 
    So, strangely enough, I’ve ended up getting into little “trash talks” with Heba whenever we scavenge. It’d be easy to harp on her, but I’d honestly say she’s come a long way since the time we were trapped in that truck. I don’t particularly enjoy remembering what she said to me that day, but I can’t blame her for lashing out. The fact she’s even willing to talk about it a little, or simply not add to my growing list of bandages is proof enough she’s trying. She’s certainly taken a lot of joy in laying against a trash bag like one of those therapist couches before telling me a rather vague detail about her life.
 
    We’ve only done it a couple of times, so I’ve only got bits of information. I still have no idea where she’s from, but it sounds like that changed a lot for her over the years. She’s described mostly urban areas though. It’s obvious she had (has?) a bad relationship with her father… there’s been no mention of her mother yet. Other details are harder to discern, like the time she bluntly told me “I was in jail once” and then laughed it off saying it was a joke. It sure didn’t sound like a joke the way she said it. I’ll hardly be able to write her biography at this rate, but at this point I think of it more as a way to show her I care how she’s doing. She’s made it very apparent she has trouble accepting that anyone might really care about her, so I’d like to think it’s helping with that. In a way, she might even be helping me with the same problem.
 
    That’s really the most controversial thing I have to write down, but I think we’ve mostly paved over it for the better, so at the moment it doesn’t feel that way.
 
    Let’s see… Elizabeth has been mostly keeping to herself when she’s not asking questions about the twins. I don’t think me or Skylar have an answer 90% of the time, but it’s nice to see some positivity. It’s an odd thing to bond over, but I don’t think the two have conversed with each other so deeply before the twins were born. We might even need to find shears soon, because she’s really gotten puffy over time. The few times I’ve spotted her writing at night, it seems like she has to keep pushing the wool out of her eyes. Of course I never say anything then, I know she doesn't like being watched.
 
    This really has turned into an update on everyone as I’ve written this. But I think I’m forgetting someone though. Oh, Sandra. How could I forget the giant shark? Especially with uh, last night. Man, if I write about this I think both Heba and Sandra will kill me if they go snooping through this. But, I still feel like writing anyway. Besides, I’d like to think we all have more to worry about than looking through my stuff.
 
    It was last night. A cold night like the rest of them recently, but not bad enough I couldn’t get comfortable in our makeshift camp. That night we took refuge in between a cluster of particularly thick pines. Hardly a real shelter, but just keeping the wind out helps a lot. Skylar might have had trouble there, but she’s taken to coddling the twins at night. Which is actually a good deal for both of them. She adds a little extra insulation by wrapping around them, and Skylar keeps just warm enough to keep the chill out. Sandra though, she’s not that lucky.
 
    Oh, she may act tough, but it’s no secret the falling temperatures are starting to get to her. It’s something I’ve grown more concerned about. Even Elizabeth has tried bringing it up to her, and she simply tells both of us, “I’m fine.” Even if she’s got that dark blue deliveryman uniform that was way too large for me, it hardly fits her, and it’s certainly not the warmest clothes. She’s even taken the jacket I gave her and given it to Skylar, which is nice, but she’s certainly the one who needs it more.
 
    Now we were crowded together that night, the wind howling between the branches and occasionally dropping a brown leaf on us. Like I said, the whole advantage of our little hiding spot were the trees that helped mitigate the wind, but it wasn’t perfect. We were huddled on the ground not far from each other in the small space. The night was dark, only made darker by the full pine branches blocking out what little moonlight might have shined down. Seeing was difficult, and we were all tired. It didn’t take long before everyone decided on some shut-eye. Bon was on watch that night, and at the moment she was prowling a short distance away. Something she says helps keep her awake.
 
    The layers of fallen leaves on the ground provided little comfort, and what little cardboard we had intact was mostly being used to store whatever food we had, so no bedding was available. Still, the air of freedom made almost anything palatable. With some shifting around I was about as comfortable as I could manage. However, I couldn’t sleep. I found my ears adjusting to the absolute silence that followed any rustling gale, searching for any snap of a twig. Without anything else to tune into, I listened to the gentle snoring all around me.
 
    It wasn’t long before my ears singled out one exception to the snores. Sandra couldn’t be asleep, she was clearly muttering something under her breath, and rubbing her hands together. A quick turn of my head confirmed my suspicions, even in the darkness I could see the shape of her back shivering on her mat of fallen pine needles.
 
    I knew she wouldn’t want me acknowledging the fact she couldn’t raise her body temperature through sheer force of will, but I had to try something. Maybe I could convince her to take that jacket back? I didn’t want to startle her or wake anyone up though, so I inched backwards towards her, trying to remain silent on the patch of dirt between us. Only, it turns out slopes are difficult to judge in near total darkness. Before I knew it I had slid backwards just enough to push my back against hers.
 
    I could feel the large muscles on her back tense up as I softly collided against her. It abruptly got a lot quieter when she stopped her chattering teeth to shift around and find the source. In a panic, I shut my eyes and pretended to be asleep. Looking back on it, it feels petty to try and hide such a small mistake, but my instincts still wanted me to play it safe around the woman who could pick me up and toss me. I couldn’t see with my eyes screwed shut, but I could certainly feel her move. She only twisted around a little to, presumably, get a look at me.
 
    Next, I could feel a hand gingerly push against my shoulder with an unexpected delicateness. I kept my act up and did my best not to react, even when she whispered as quietly as she could, “Psst, Anon. Are you awake?” I restrained my breathing as the seconds ticked away. I could already see her calling me out for doing something so stupid. But after a few tense moments, I could feel her twist back around. Had she really bought it? I thought maybe I could wait a little bit before scooching away. Laying in silence and trying to come up with a plan, I realized I wasn’t feeling something anymore. Her shivering.
 
    After another lengthy pause I could hear her sigh before muttering under her breath, but now I was close enough to make out the words, “It’d be a shame to wake him up if I don’t have to…” I waited for my opportunity to escape, but instead of feeling her inch away, I actually felt her lean back into me a little. I could practically feel her relax against me as the tension drained out of her frame. Now, it wasn’t like I was pinned under her with no escape, but I guarantee she would feel it if I tried moving.
 
    I figured I had two options then. Commit to the act and fall asleep for real, or wait until she fell asleep to make my getaway. It looked like she wasn’t going to move away herself. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was taking advantage of the situation. Time moved slowly as I kept up my act, but mercifully it seemed like Sandra really was put at ease. She joined the symphony of snores soon enough. But it wasn’t perfect timing, at that point she was dangerously close to trapping me with how far she was leaning against me. I was practically holding her up.
 
    Carefully, I attempted to slide my way out from under her. I pulled my arm upwards, but made a mistake. I forgot about her fin. I was moving slowly though, so my hand only brushed by the cartilage before I retracted it just as silently, grazing it again. The unintentional touch didn’t go unnoticed though. I heard, well, what might be described as a moan… and while I was caught off guard by the sound, she shifted to turn her back more, now nearly half laying on top of me.
 
    No, I had enough. I was too tired to come up with more escape plans and my options were dwindling. So I went with my other plan and tried to sleep. Shockingly, the slab of coldblooded muscle above me wasn’t that cold. She was definitely warmer than the unforgiving ground. In fact, she sort of acted like an extra layer of insulation keeping the wind out. I found myself warmer than expected and soon… more comfortable than expected.
 
    Before I knew it, I was waking up, dawn just on the horizon through the thick bundles of needles overhead. While my mind tried to understand what was nearly crushing me, I felt the weight life off just as I registered it. I honestly thought I just imagined the sensation for a second. Only I heard Sandra’s voice from above, low enough not to be heard by anyone still dozing, “Sorry… I guess I moved in my sleep.” I turned around to see her hiding a noticeably red face. Internally I was starting to piece together what happened, wasn’t I the one that moved into her? Why was she trying to hide it? All that came out of my mouth was, “Yeah, sure, whatever,” through a croak of my dry throat.
 
    She seemed especially unwilling to face me directly that morning while I helped Bon get everyone up for the day. It looks like we both had reasons not to bring it up. I might have even forgotten about that little incident if the patrolling lioness hadn’t brought it up again. While I was stretching before the next day of hiking, she snuck up behind me to whisper in my ear, “If you desire me to, I can make sure no one topples over you while you are asleep. It would be easy to drag her off.” I answered her a bit flustered, “No, it’s fine really…” She replied back in an even lower tone, “I may do so anyway, I’m the only one allowed to do as such.”
 
    She used her advantage from behind to wrap her arms around me before I could react. It feels stupid to say after all this time, but the lion’s unrestrained affection was starting to embarrass me in front of everyone. With most of them looking over our little river map though, I think only Skylar watched me awkwardly try to laugh the situation off as I was mercilessly squeezed. She knew exactly how I was feeling and took the opportunity to tease me, “You better not get any of her fur on the twins!” Bon let me free but called right back to her, “Oh, but you are not bothered by his hair?” Skylar responded one more time with an elegant comeback, “Shut up!” before she rejoined the rest of the group already starting our next march.
 
I’d like to think if we’re back to petty squabbles, that means our morale is back up at least.
 
    I think that about covers it. The past few days look eventful when I’ve rewritten the interesting bits, but in reality the majority has been a lot of trudging forward. Things could be better between the weather and our lack of supplies, yet no one’s complaining.
 
    That’s good. In spite of the odds, we’re still together and we’re still moving. Still, if we really want to make it to Canada, we need to figure something better than walking. And quickly. Winter is coming whether any of us like it or not. How will we do it? What will we do when we get there?
 
I can’t answer either of those, but at least I’m confident it will be a matter of “we” and not “I” anymore.
 
    Okay, I’ve put off sleeping long enough. I’ll just hope I don’t get into anymore hijinks when I’m trying to sleep. A weird thing to worry about right now, but one of the better ones to focus on.
 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
   
    Good news! I think we've finally figured out something other than hiking through multiple states. Plus we shouldn’t be freezing or starving anytime soon. Still, this whole set-up isn’t perfect, but it’s hard not to get excited about this. Hell, we don’t even really need someone on watch tonight. First time we could all get some sleep at once in a while. I’m still having trouble believing it, so I’ll recount it while I wait for everyone else.
 
    Earlier today… just a couple days since I last wrote in here, we were following some smaller river as a guide. With a natural guideline like that, we were making good progress, not really needing to stop and check the compass very often. The only downside was that we were carried out of the woods into barren farm fields. Through faded stalks of long since dead corn and the vibrant remnants of expired pumpkin patches we walked, no shelter from the wind and uncomfortably visible. That didn’t stop Heba from snagging a couple of the salvageable gourds, even with protests we’d have trouble doing much with them. Food was food after all.
 
    We talked a little, but something about the echo of wide-open fields made us drop our voices. I remember chatting with Elizabeth, who l was starting to fear would blow away like a dandelion puff. Whenever a strong wind swept it’s way through whatever was left standing on the tilled earth, I could see her brace against it. At the moment she was asking me something like, “Do y-you think one of Skylar’s will have ante-antennas or ears like yours?” I didn’t much like the idea of an ant with human ears, but the image of a human with antennas was amusing, sort of like an alien from an old 50’s movie. I figured if she could ask me questions like that, I could bring up her wool.
 
    “Elizabeth, I know it’s a great time to have a wool coat, but is it normal for you to grow out your hair like that?” She patted her t-shirt self-consciously after I said that. I could see her hand sink in a couple inches from the stuffing underneath. “N-no, not no-normally…” She paused a second before continuing, “I woul-would’ve probably gotten it c-cut a while ago.” I spoke up a little to get the attention of the shark pouring over the map ahead of me. “Maybe we can shear it off and make a coat for Sandra!” She answered me without turning her eyes from the piece of paper, “I’m not a baby, I don’t need a coat.”
 
    The ewe turned to me as we walked. It looked like we had accidentally stirred a memory of hers. “You know, my g-grandma used to knit her own wool.” Skylar piped up this time from where she was, “That’s disgusting!” Sandra turned from her paper to give the new mother a glare, “Hey, I bet one of those shirts you’re wearing is made of wool!” Perturbed, Skylar immediately preoccupied herself delicately shifting around her multiple shirts to read the tags, causing Sandra to laugh.
 
    Elizabeth picked up her pace to catch up with her defender, “I’m n-not very g-good at it, but I might be able to sew you a ha-hat.” Sandra let out a sigh in response. “We’ve been over this… I’m fine.” Elizabeth could be quite dogged when she wanted to be though, “It’s h-hard to mess up a scarf.” More of us were starting to watch the shark refusing to make eye contact with the cotton ball besides her. She clearly didn’t enjoy the attention because she buried her face into the map. “You don’t even have anything to sew with, come on…”
 
    Elizabeth seemed unphased. “When w-we get out of this, and I g-get some supplies, I could make some-something then?” I almost stumbled hearing that, “when.” We were several states away from a vague goal, and she had so much confidence? It was touchingly optimistic. I think Sandra felt the same way because she dropped much of the annoyance in her voice. “Fine… You win… I’ll take you up on your offer… but only then.” Both Skylar and Bon were walking close behind me, trying to look casual while ogling the situation. That is until Sandra abruptly twisted her head around, “What’re ya looking at? Can’t see the map through my head, can ya?” Our little cluster scattered shortly.
 
    It wasn’t much longer after that the river we were following drained into another much wider one. A wide swath of dark blue water lazily carving it’s own path through the patchwork of farm fields. Sandra only took a glance before gesturing her arm forward and announcing, “The Missouri River!” Evidently she was proud we were on track. Heba, unimpressed and still hoisting a large pumpkin underneath each arm looked considerably less interested. “Cool.” Skylar got straight to the point, “Please don’t tell me we have to cross it.” She held the twins on her back nervously.
 
    The shark pointed to her map, more of a gesture than a demonstration given the distance. “Nope, we’ll just be following it for a while.” Skylar breathed a little easier while we walked along the bank of the river. The next leg of the journey was fairly uneventful. The most we did was try to hide when the occasional small boat drifted by. Honestly, I really don’t think anyone sailing would bother to report a group of homeless looking people drifting by, but we didn’t want to take any chances.
 
    Eventually, the first thing to break the monotony of leisurely water was a couple of docks jutting out into the river in the distance. Even from where we stood, it looked tattered and poorly maintained. Planks dangling haphazardly in spots. The state of disrepair likely related to how remote this location was. Nothing more than a dirt trail seemed to connect the pitiful pier to someplace beyond the horizon. We would have skipped right past it if Heba hadn’t said something.
 
    “You see that over there?” Sandra responded first, “You see another boat?” Heba attempted to wave dismissively despite her arms being full, “There’s stuff on that dock, we should take it.” Elizabeth piped up, “Like w-what?” and Skylar chimed in, “Maybe she wants some rusty nails?” The hyena slumped her shoulders in exasperation, “No you idiots, there’s a tarp over some barrels.” Sandra got right back in, “She’s right, you can do a lot with a tarp.” Heba looked vindicated now with her pumpkins held high. “Yeah! And maybe something inside of them… Or we take the barrels!” Sandra was already walking towards the docks as she called back, “You can carry around the metal drums if it makes you feel better, I’m getting that tarp.”
 
    Once we got closer, the ramshackle dock didn’t get any better looking. However, the blue lump still looked promising. The cheap plastic tarp was still intact. We used to have some tarps for bedding, carrying stuff around, we could even use it to keep the rain out. It might have looked like garbage to the average bystander, but we would find a use for it. Similarly, there were a few other forgotten rusty containers scattered around heaps of nautical debris. Without a word we split up to look around. Heba and Sandra were with me on the faded blue mystery, Skylar, Elizabeth, and Bon investigating the rest of the nearby area.
 
    As we approached, we found the tarp fastened down with worn zip ties. I tried to pull at them, but they were fastened tight. Sandra’s attempt didn’t go much better without wanting to damage the prized tarp. “We could try and tear it off?” Sandra’s suggestion was barely heard by the Hyena already tearing off the corner, “Oh, way ahead of you.” Soon I was preoccupied with trying to delicately tear the tarp apart, something difficult but not impossible with the thickness. The others seemed to have an easier time, but we were all taking a while ripping around the ties. Whatever was underneath that tarp had a strange smell to it while we worked. Apparently we were working at it for a while, because Bon surprised us with a hushed voice. “A boat is nearby!”
 
    We all whipped around to see the lion who had silently crept up to us pointing at an approaching shape on the water. Sandra gave her orders. “Try and find somewhere to hide!” Heba only responded with a snort, “Hide behind what exactly?” The couple of chest-high barrels or scrap piles afforded few options for hiding. At best maybe Elizabeth and Skylar could crouch behind them. I spoke up after that thought, “Bon, where did the other two go?” She shifted where she was pointing in response, where I could see a pair of antennaes poking out from behind a crumbling pile of cargo pallets. “They have already taken refuge there.”
 
    Sandra looked around with a hint of panic in her dark eyes, but Heba looked unconcerned. “It’s just a boat, why would they tell anyone about us?” Sandra didn’t have to hesitate to answer her, “You forget we’re wanted ‘criminals’!” Heba scoffed, “Yeah, maybe a few states over. Look, if we just act natural, I’m sure nobody will care about some bums on the side of the river.” I looked to Bon, and she looked back to me just as unsure. Against expectations however, the shark caved-in, “Fine… but you got any suggestions for looking casual in the middle of nowhere?” Heba put a pad to her chin for a moment.
 
    She spoke confidentially, but her eyes betrayed her uncertainty, “We just uh, stand around and pretend to talk.” Sandra sounded concerned, “Just a casual talk between four poorly dressed friends in what is probably someone’s private property…” Bon looked back at me, “Would it appear better if it was three instead?” Being the closest to her I felt the need to answer, “Yeah, it might.” She motioned me aside saying, “Then I will try to hide behind this, you three can stand in front.” Heba spoke quieter as Bon tried to scrunch behind the objects, “You should make Anon do it, he’s smaller than you.”
 
    Bon practically hissed back, “You should not waste time and listen instead…” She added in a quieter voice, “…Anon is big in heart.” Seeing that the outline of the ship drawing closer, Sandra broke things off before a fight could begin. “Everyone but Bonolo, just stand around IN FRONT of the tarp, is that too much to ask?” With a wave to Bon still awkwardly hunched behind the barrel, I joined everyone else. Heba paused a moment before kicking something over towards Bon, “Hold onto my pumpkins while you’re at it.” I could hear her retort faintly, “I do not want your gourds.”
 
    The boat on the horizon was much closer now. Bigger than the little ones we saw pass by earlier, but hardly a cargo cruiser. It looked about as worn as the dock. My best guess was a fishing boat of some kind. Turning back to the two with me, Heba was standing uncaring while Sandra looked considerably less casual. She kept shifting her legs trying to look normal until Heba spoke up, “Stop fidgeting, we’re supposed to be regular people not recovering addicts.” Sandra grit her sharp teeth in a forced smile, “Okay, fine, I’m holding still. Now what do we talk about?”
 
    I had been watching this long enough, so I volunteered a subject, “The weather?” Sandra peeled her eyes from the slowly passing ship as she answered back, “Sure, uh, it’s a warm fall, isn’t it?” Heba already looked annoyed. “Really? This coming from the woman whose nearly frozen standing out here?” Sandra’s serrated grin only grew wider and twice as forced, “Heba, I swear…” It was my turn to interrupt though, “Yes, a warm fall!” A blatant lie with the chilly weather, but we needed to get back on course.
 
    Something was off however. The boat should have passed by us now. It was moving incredibly slowly, nearly crawling forward. “Fine, it’s a very warm fall, practically Summer.” The hyena decided it was better to just play along. However we all turned around when the squeal of planks signaled a figure had jumped out from the boat in front of us. It sure didn’t help our act when we all stopped talking to watch the figure begin mooring their boat. They were certainly aquatic looking, covered in grey scales with a long snout. They had a couple fish-feelers around their nose, reminiscent of a mustache, and looked just a tad shorter than me.
 
    Heba was the first to say something through her teeth, “Don’t just stand there, it’s weirder to pretend they don’t exist.” Sandra turned around to address the individual, but to our mutual surprise they were moving straight towards us now. In a low gruff voice I heard, “Whatrya doing here?” We were more than spotted now. Sandra seemed unsure what to say… and the idea of having Heba introduce us was a bit risky. So I decided to speak up.
 
    “Hey there… sir, we were just uh… hiking around here.” He kept walking closer, but sounded offended now, “Sir? I’m just as much a woman as my ship you ‘hiker,’ now get out of my way.” As it turns out, I’m a poor judge of aquatic individuals, especially when they’re wearing thick coats. I decided to keep my mouth shut after that mistake. Sandra quickly stepped in shortly after my verbal blunder, “Sorry for his ignorance, my friend here isn’t familiar with the water like us, right?” The approaching woman didn’t slow down, “You’re a saltwater sucker aren’t you? We’ve got nothing in common girl, now let me take my cargo and leave.”
 
    While Sandra recovered from being shot down so quickly, I realized she was headed towards the barrels behind us, dangerously close to discovering Bon hiding behind them. Heba must have picked up on this as well because she tried to grab her attention away. “What kind of ‘cargo’ does someone keep out here anyway?” The grey woman responded frustrated, “You know I don’t need to answer any of you. How about 'what are three hikers like all of you doing dressed like yer homeless?'” Heba lacked an answer as the fisher got dangerously close.
 
    I considered moving in front of her, but nothing could be more suspicious. Also, as bad as it sounds… if things went really south, it was still four on one, so we could afford to try and keep the act up a little longer, and pray she didn’t notice Bon. Well, she didn’t notice Bon, but the fact someone was clearly ripping through the tarp minutes ago was unmistakable. She turned back to the three of us quickly, sounding incredulous, “Are you three really trying to steal my stuff? Well I’m glad ya stopped on my account!”
 
    From the corner of my eyes I saw Bon’s ears flicker above the barrels. She was attempting an escape while our visitor was turned around. Only, she wasn’t completely silent. With a crackle of tarp underfoot, Bon abruptly held still. Everyone was frozen in place except the fish in front of us, who quickly turned around to see the lion poking out from behind them. She looked even more confused before shouting at Sandra in particular. “Why is there a damn cat with a pumpkin hiding in my cargo?! Who the hell are you people and why do you want my old bait so badly?”
 
    Good news was, she didn’t recognize us from any kind of news report. Bad news was we were caught trying to steal a damn tarp off ancient chum. Bon was the first to answer her, looking incredibly unsure of herself, “We just desired the tarp, none of your fish food.” The woman didn’t get angrier though, rather she put her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know if you’re all really hikers or homeless or what, but if you’re trying to steal my damn tarp, you can’t be in great shape.”
 
    Bon looked ashamed she had been caught, Heba was staring intently while the sailor seemed to be deep in thought, and Sandra looked like she was seriously considering knocking this woman out. However, we all simply watched as she added on in a lower voice, “Maybe it’s a good thing you tried to steal my stuff. Would any of you four be looking for work by chance?”
 
    Heba responded immediately, “What kind of work?” Sandra’s shark eyes shifted to Heba. It was palpable how much her face screamed, “STOP TALKING.” The mysterious woman was unaware of this as she continued, “Nothing I couldn’t teach ya’ in a day. Let’s just say my boat is a little shorthanded lately.” Heba spoke in spite of Sandra’s silent protest, “How much does it pay?”
 
    The woman threw her hands up in the air, “You sound like my last crew, ‘minimum wage’ this and ‘labor laws’ that! You all look like the desperate sort, and I don’t care how you got that way. I won’t ask any questions if yer willing to work for room and board.” Heba was already shaking her hand before Sandra finally voiced her protest. “Heba, come on! This woman hires homeless people and forces them to work on her boat, What are you doing?” Heba was far less concerned, “We get food and a place to sleep, I don’t see us getting that any other way!” Sandra wasn’t comforted by that, “Yeah, sleeping on a rusty old barge is such an improvement?” The fishy woman spoke up again after that. “If you want to work for me, you’ll have to show my ship some more respect than that.”
 
    A few minutes ago we were trying to steal a piece of garbage, now we had a job offer thrown onto us by someone that wanted to take advantage of us. But she wasn’t wrong in her assessment, food and board sounded like more than enough payment. It helped I doubted she would turn us into anyone if she was trying to hire illegal labor. I also realized something else, we might be able to travel without walking for once.
 
    I blurted out, “Which way would you be taking us?” She scoffed, “River only goes two ways, I’d be taking you against the current further North. You looking to work in the Dakotas or something?” Heba once again spoke for the group, “Yeah… yeah we’re looking for jobs up there.” I don’t think anyone objected to her saying that, as even Sandra looked a little less perturbed. “Well if you four want to walk to North Dakota be my guest, but I’m offering you the option to do something other than try to steal my plastic covering.”
The shark still looked on edge though. “You’d be hiring all of us, right?” The crewless captain answered back, “I’ve got just enough room for all of you… unless you’ve got more cats hiding around here.” She laughed, but bon only smiled sheepishly.
 
“There are two more.”
 
    Elizabeth and Skylar were reluctant at first, but they agreed with a little convincing. None of us liked the idea of walking the literal hundreds of miles instead. Once everything was settled between Sandra and the woman, Captain Kalmon as I now know her, we all moved on board. Oh, but not before we had to lug her drums of who-knows-what bait into the ship with us. She seemed quite happy not to have to do that herself. She was less happy with having the six of us, but Sandra made it clear it was all or none of us. I guess hobos willing to work on a fishing boat at a moment’s notice were harder to come by than I expected, because she agreed to it. The major complication is that “crew quarters will be a little tight.”
 
    So now I’m writing that “crew quarters.” It’s got four shelves that could generously be called beds on the walls down here. Someone’s going to have to share later tonight… Everyone else is busy either trying on whatever clothes Kalmon has left over, or talking to the captain herself right now. So we can figure out sleeping arrangements when everyone settles in for the night.
 
    Although today has been more than unexpected, I can’t help but feel a little excited. Having a job again was something I had doubted for a long time. Never though I’d miss working. The captain says she plans on working us to the bone, but I think we can handle it. She could work us to death and it'd still be better than wandering the woods on whatever food we had left.
 
    I’m really hoping this was a good idea. The captain is a little shady, but that might actually mean we can trust her more. She certainly doesn't trust us fully, seeing as she sleeps in the main cabin with all the steering. While the whole set-up worries me, as Sandra whispered to me before getting on board, "We throw her off the ship if she tries to turn us in." I would have laughed if Heba said that, but I get the feeling the shark's more than serious about that plan if things go wrong.
 
    Besides, the boat isn't just for us. If Skylar's prediction is right, the twins will probably hatch while we're riding this further north. It has to be safer for them aboard this dingy ship than out in the woods… Even if Bon is really starting to show it, I don't think we'll have anymore unplanned births soon. The only real mystery is Sandra, I have absolutely no clue how long it takes a shark to have a kid, but I get the feeling she'd knock my lights out for asking. Maybe I can get Elizabeth to ask for me…
 
    Oh, I can hear someone climbing down here with me. I'll stop for now and give them the tour.
 
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Comments (4):
 
[Fox_in_Sox] 3 days ago
» dude crazy, did someone really break into your house???
 
[FeistyFlamingo89] 2 days ago
» Oh I think I know someone who'd love to see this!
 
[_LynxStink_] 2 days ago
» You can just share your writing man, no need to pretend you found it or some weird shit
 
[GLOWINTHEDARK] 4 hours ago
» A fascinating work of fiction. Please upload the entire document.