Carrot was like a silent shadow as I walked down the street, feeling her brush my leg when I paused to take aim at random bits of buildings. The sharp bang of my handgun occasionally split the silence as I got used to the lighter feel of it. It was easier to keep steady in my hands as I shattered windows and small lights along the warehouse and factory walls. 

I had checked the clip to know how many bullets it held, and I counted down with each shot until there was only a few left—not wanting to leave myself defenseless or waste any more of the ammo Jason had bought in addition to the firearms. 

Jason had likely been listening as well, still at Byron’s van, and I wondered if he was waiting for me to return to him now.

The thought was bitter, frustration driving a need for quiet rebellion as I kept walking to the end of the street.

Carrot gave a soft whine as I stopped at the corner, glancing back toward the alley. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her ears beginning to press back, her paws anxiously tapping at the concrete as she waited at my side. I gave her head a soft, comforting pat before I rounded the corner, out of sight of the alleyway where I had left Jason.

At first the street seemed just as empty, shattered glass and other rubbish littering the sidewalk and abandoned cars left rusting. As I walked between them, I stayed alert, aware that I couldn’t discount any slight movement or noise. 

Just as I began to relax, a small scuffling sound had me tensing. 

Carrot began to growl at my side as I spun and ducked behind one of the dilapidated vehicles for cover. I dropped to the ground with my back pressed against the side of the car. Swallowing, I edged to the side, carefully looking around the hunk of metal to see the sidewalk. 

While I expected the horror of a hackjaw rushing at me with a hideous gaping mouth, all I could find as the source of the noise was a small pile of blankets against the wall of one of the warehouses. As I watched, it moved with an even pace and my blood ran cold as I realized it was breathing—rustling. 

A small hand poked out of the folds of fabric, and my stomach sank.

Only a child could be that small—and they were in the open on a street in broad daylight, exposed… a tantalizing snack for a hunting hackjaw.

Carrot snarled as I got to my feet, and I made a gentle shushing noise as I approached the child slowly. Jason had told me to be careful, but every fiber of my being rejected the idea of leaving a lonely child alone to die. 

“Hey there.” I kept my voice calm and soothing as I called out, seeing the blankets stir as the small hand retracted quickly. Carrot’s low grumble grew into a fierce growl as she planted her feet at my side, hackles raised; I saw the pile of blankets tremble. 

My heart ached, coming closer as I said, “You don’t need to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. Are you alone out here?”

When there was no response, I moved closer. “It’s dangerous in the streets. Do you have a place to stay?” I waited, stopping only a step away from the huddled child. “I have somewhere you can go. I can protect you. Do you want to come with me?” I thought about what Jason would say, bringing home another hungry mouth—another person to fill the already cramped space of our quarters—but I put out my hand, letting it hover in the air between us in a silent offer. 

A smile pulled at my lips as small hands again reached out through the folds, and the blankets peeled back despite Carrot’s sudden, sharp bark. 

My sense of triumph was drowned in horror and fear as I saw the weeping sores covering the child’s skin, cracked lips bared over sharp teeth as it focused on me with eyes that were pits of black. 

Carrot’s frantic barking was dim behind the rush of my pulse in my ears as I stood, frozen in shock, before the hackjaw lunged at me with a guttural snarl. 

There were heavy, hurried footsteps before a strong hand gripped me by the arm, thick fingers bruising me as I was yanked back and out of the way. My heart was pounding as my eyes snapped up to the figure as they pulled me to stand behind them. 

Jason’s face was filled with fury I had only ever seen once before—the first moment I’d met him. He held his shotgun at the ready, Carrot barking loudly just a step in front of him—protective as she snapped her bared teeth. 

Jason was like a statue as he muttered under his breath, “Stay behind me.” His eyes were glued to the child, his chest heaving as if he needed to calm himself down before he took a shot; it was the first time I’d seen him hesitate.

My gaze slid from Jason to the child as it shook free of the covers which had made it seem innocent. Bile burned the back of my throat as I watched it sink down onto all fours, tiny limbs bent in impossible directions with sharp snaps and cracks of bones giving way under the strain. 

I had heard about the awful transformation, but I had never seen this stage in person. The hackjaw still looked so… human; even shreds of ribbon were still caught in the tattered remains of braided hair. 

I shrunk back as the child’s jaw unhinged, opening wide to reveal the sharp teeth; some were only beginning to surface through its bloodied mouth, rows of tiny sharp peaks that gnashed as it made garbled sounds of ravenous hunger. An inhuman, keening cry echoed in the street as the child’s jaw cracked and began to split; flesh started to tear along its throat, a grisly chasm beginning to open as a newly formed maw. 

Tears welled in my eyes, fogging my vision of the child becoming a monster, blood tinged saliva dripping over the concrete as it coiled to attack. 

I couldn’t bring myself to shut my eyes as it leapt at us—and the sound of Jason’s gun finally hit my ears. My stomach churned as the bullet tore through the half-formed jaws of the hackjaw, splattering blood onto the street. 

The creature’s corpse skidded across the asphalt, dragging its blood in a horrific smear; the small body was no match for the force of the large caliber bullet. Jason stood frozen, still holding the firearm as if he hadn’t realized he’d pulled the trigger. He was shaking—from rage or stress, I couldn’t tell, but his eyes were still on the mutant hackjaw. 

After a long moment, without blinking, Jason straightened and lowered the gun. His whole body was tense and quivering as his stare latched onto me, his eyes like a storm. 

I shivered, my throat too tight to speak for a moment as I struggled under the weight of his glare. Guilt tore through me as my fear faded, the rush of adrenaline giving way to debilitating shame as I realized I had nearly gotten us both killed. “Jason-” My voice cracked, unable to find a way to explain—to apologize for how anguished he looked over what I had made him do to protect me. 

I could see his pulse pounding in the thick vein at his throat. Whatever I expected him to say, the last thing was the forced, rough words of, “Let’s just go home.” He snapped it and it felt like a slap that stung me. 

Keeping the shotgun firmly in one hand, Jason grabbed my wrist with the other. Though his hold wasn’t quite as tight as when he’d pulled me to safety, he held me like I was a child he was afraid would run off. 

I didn’t shrug him off, falling into pace beside him. We were silent for the entire journey home, his grip like a constant vice around my wrist that wouldn’t relent. 

The sky was growing dark by the time we made it back to the familiar rail line, the wind biting as the soft glow of the sun began to dip past the skyline. 

The tunnel was pitch black, Jason pulling up the tarp and yanking the trailer door open before he finally shoved me inside the camper and let go. 

The door slammed shut violently, the entire trailer rattling as I quickly stepped back from Jason. Carrot brushed past me, the fur along her back still raised as she responded to Jason’s tension, still alert as if danger had followed us all the way home. 

Jason’s large, solid figure was intimidating in the dim light, a knot in my throat as I hurried to turn the lights on. Nervous as I turned to face him, I held my hands up in a gesture of defenseless apology. Though I was panting from his relentless pace on the way home, concern filled me as I watched him. “I’m sorry,” I ventured in a whisper, unsure what he wanted me to say—what I could say, to make up for what had happened. 

“You’re sorry?!” His voice was like thunder, echoing off the cramped walls as he shouted. He looked livid, as if all his rage and anger had brewed the whole walk here and was finally bursting from the seams.