“You sure, bud?” Kelly asks, one hand holding the apartment complex’s door open while the other presses the bulky appliance to her chest.

Bear sits down and continues to stare.

Kelly narrows her eyes at him slightly, then shrugs.  “Suit yourself.”

Once back inside, she goes to her room and sets the fryer beside her bookshelf, giving it a once-over as she runs her finger over the manuals that line it, wondering if, by chance, she has one on blowtorches.  She finds nothing amidst the car and appliance manuals, though, and pulls out one for the a similar brand of air fryer.

She’s amassed quite a few manuals for vehicles and large machinery by now and read nearly all of them.  The librarians and Greg, amused by how invested she is in the subject, let her keep the books, sometimes finding them for her and giving them to her the next time she visits.  No one else is interested in learning about cars anymore, they say.  Save that old junk master.

Greg is, in fact, quite a fan of cars.  He often likes to lament how useless these “beautiful things” have become.  I had quite a pretty one myself, back in the day.  These days I bet she’d be a real classic.  2009 Dodge Challenger.

They found a Challenger in the junkyard once and the master opened the hood and showed Kelly the inner workings of the engine, which immediately fascinated her.

Unable to drive one, she’d consoled herself by reading about them and inspecting their engines.  You know that’s a lot of useless information to have, her father kept saying. Kelly likes to learn it anyway; cars were a part of history, something so important to the world and now gone.  Their bodies lay strewn about the world, serving as storage or jungle gyms for the children, places to hide and sleep or have clandestine meetings.  Many get repurposed but so many exist that it’s still easy to chance upon their rusting skeletons.

As usual, Kelly makes dinner so it’s ready when her dad gets home.  When they finish up, Kelly takes the dishes and sets them into the sink.  “You mind if I go out for a little bit?”

Robert glances out the kitchen window with a mild frown.  “Where are you going?”

“Cass’s,” Kelly replies, not facing him so he can’t see the tightness in her jaw as she lies.

None the wiser, Robert nods.  “Bring a knife with you, and if Bear is there have him walk with you.  It’ll probably be dark by the time you come home.”

Kelly quickly disappears into her room to grab a holstered knife and strap it to her thigh.  She taps her pocket to make sure her phone is still there and trots out of her room for the front door.  “Be back later!”

“Be safe,” Robert says over the running water in the kitchen as he starts washing the dishes.

Outside, Bear is nowhere to be found.  Kelly walks the perimeter of the building, but doesn’t see him.  She pauses by the complex door, glancing between the road and the building a few times before finally shrugging and heading away.  She’ll be fine, she doesn’t need her dog.

Kelly goes walking through the city, starting in her neighborhood and gradually drifting out farther as she completes a circle around the apartment complex.  She contemplates the city as she walks, and the people inside it.  All these lives, safe or in danger at any moment, depending on the security of the iron fences.  She thinks of the farmers who dare to live on the other side of hers, where the fence around their fields and pastures is much weaker and more prone to attacks.  They risk the fae every single day for the sake of the people.  Some considered them foolish for it but everyone still accepted their wheat and produce anyway.  Kelly frowns at the thought.

The farther she walks, the darker it gets, and by the time the sun has set completely, she’s made it to the neighborhood Cassandra lives in, the place she said she was going.  She stops across the street from her friend’s front door, staring at it.

Finally, Kelly unclips the holster to her knife and turns around, keeping an eye out as she starts down the path back home.  Even deep in the city, where they are supposed to be safe, people don’t like to be out at night, and the empty streets reflect that.  Something about the darkness convinces people that the fae are closer, hiding in the shadows.  Even this deep inside the superstition reigns.

She scans the darkness for any sign of movement and startles when she sees a white and black shape bounding for her.  The creature barks as it gets closer.  She relaxes a little, but not fully.  “Bear!  Are you trying to scare me to death?”

Bear barks louder and more frantically as he gets closer, hopping back and forth.  Kelly tenses up again, gripping her knife tighter as she looks past him into the dark.  “What is it?”

Bear barks again and grabs at her jeans with his teeth, tugging on her.  She hesitates, but he tugs harder.  He’s a smart dog; something must be wrong somewhere and he came looking for help.

It feels foolhardy to run into the unknown with just a knife and a dog, but Kelly does.  Bear has never acted like this, so she couldn’t help but feel it must be something serious.  If she ran all the way back home to get her dad, or tried to find a patrol, it might be too late.  She needs to see what is wrong for herself and assess the situation, like she was trained to do.

Bear runs just fast enough to stay ahead of her, but not lose her.  The two blaze down the streets of Halifax, away from the city center and out past the far neighborhoods.  Kelly begins to worry.  How far away is this?  Where is Bear taking her?  In the back of her mind, she feels like she needs to turn back, but she knows Bear.  He’s always been there for her, always helped protect her.  He wouldn’t lead her into danger.

Bear looks back to make sure she’s still following.  They don’t slow down until Kelly sees the fence at the city’s edge form in the darkness.  Her stop isn’t sudden, but in three steps she’s still, brows knitting together as she glances between her dog and the fence.  There is a wide gash in the chain links, big enough for a person to step through easily.

“Bear?” she asks in a harsh whisper, her voice wavering slightly.

Bear barks and tugs at her jeans again.

Kelly shakes her head.  “I can’t, it’s not safe out there.  We need to warn someone that the fence is broken.  Only soldiers go beyond the border.” 

Bear barks with more urgency and pulls on her harder, nearly dragging her off her feet.  She hisses in protest and pushes him off, but he just whips around her and begins using his head to push her forward.

“Okay! Okay.”  Her voice is louder this time as she tentatively begins to step forward, holding her knife at the ready.  I trust him. I’m supposed to trust him. He wouldn’t lead me into harm. 

Kelly takes a deep breath.  Slowly, carefully, and with her dog on her heels, she walks through the open hole to investigate.  Once they’re on the other side, Bear begins leading her into the outer city.  The farther they get from the fence, the more she feels a roiling in her chest, the more her eyes dart from place to place, frantically searching for the enthralled she is sure are lingering out here, waiting to strike.  “Bear, where are we going?”

Bear keeps moving, doesn’t look back.  They pass buildings, and eventually houses, and when Kelly looks back, the fence is nowhere in sight.  They’ve traveled far, nearly to the Wild.  “Bear, we need to go back.  This is too far.”

Again the dog ignores her, trotting forward.

Trees begin to form out of the darkness and Kelly freezes, eyes scanning the surroundings.  This is a neighborhood.  They’re making their way toward the edge of the city.  As Bear passes one of the trees, he stops.

Kelly’s eyes scan the area.  She’s gripping her knife so tightly that her knuckles are turning white.  “Alright, Bear,” she whispers, still looking over the area.  “Why did you bring me out here?  Is someone hurt?”

There’s a crack of a branch in the darkness and Kelly’s head whips in that direction, but she sees nothing.  Her gaze drifts back to where Bear stopped.

A woman is looking back at her.

Kelly gasps and jerks back immediately, raising her knife.  “Stay back!”

The woman merely smiles and begins to hum softly.  Kelly takes a step back, knife still raised, and takes in the stranger.  Her hair is black as ink, her clothes unfamiliar, a mix of sweeping fabrics and layers, intricate wisps of smoke snaking over them.  The humming grows louder and Kelly blinks, her eyelids feel heavy.  She takes another step back, and it takes more effort than it should.  The knife begins to feel like an impossible weight in her hand, and each time she closes her eyes, she feels the desire not to open them again.  “I’m… I’m warning you.”

The humming continues, and suddenly it feels like Kelly is falling.  The whole world becomes pitch black, everything disappearing but that soft hum following her into the dark.

Bear doesn’t make a sound.