Dreams of Better Days

They were pushing me out the door. My heart was pounding from nerves. They were trusting me with their memories. Each book, picture, note... the memories of a better life; a life we took for granted. And if that wasn't enough, I was taking the dogs with, too. We should have just not cared. We should have thrown it all away, said goodbye to the dogs, left our old life and our memories behind to search for a new life. But I had to try. I didn't want to let go of it all. The hardest times to get through were always that much easier when you had the comfort of memories that made you feel happy... back when you felt like you were in the right place in your life. But aside from the point that I was the one that had been training the dogs, they knew it would be the easiest for me because I was the smallest. I could hide in the most bizarre places. They knew I had the best chance of not being seen.

Even though they were leaving soon after I was... together... this was the way it had to be. I didn't want to leave them behind just to hope that one day I would see them again. Deep down, though, I knew I would be safer on my own anyway. No one said there was safety in numbers anymore. We couldn't stand up to them, just run and hide from them. It was amazing how fast everything changed. The terms of survival that we learned all our lives were only useful if we found a way to survive long enough to care. The only thing we could really be sure about was that we needed to spread out. The cities were like breeding grounds. At least in the country, you could try to control your environment. If anything made you stand out... noticeable... you were dead. But I was good at hiding. I could disappear. So I put on a brave face and stepped up to the challenge.

I forced one last smile, even though I knew they could see the sadness in my eyes. The door closed and I started down the street. We had already made it to the outskirts, but it was still too populated. The human race never really appreciated the size of their planet until just about a year ago. Everyone was so used to clumping together and thriving off of each other's talents and abilities. But it didn't take long for everyone to realize that wasn't realistic anymore. I had to admit that I missed the interaction; the balance of it all. I had always been good at being alone. I had no problem by myself. That isn't what scared me; it never had. I knew that part of my nature that wanted to be antisocial would keep me alive. And if I could keep up the intense training I had started giving my dogs when this all started, I knew that they would help keep me alive, too.

The nights had finally become warm enough to not jeopardize our search for seclusion. I was still thankful for my jacket, and even more so for the thought of a warm dog curling up to the nook of my body when I could finally lie down for rest. Night had become our days. I wouldn't lie down until after sunrise. But sleep was hard to keep even when you longed for it. One ear had to be open. Waiting... listening... hoping.

But the game while you were walking in the open was to continuously find places that could be used as cover. It was the one thing always in the back of your mind. It became second nature for the human race. I used to think of us as cowards. But when traditional courage started getting us killed, we found courage to be in simply not giving up. To not give up meant to never relax and always be on your guard. Anxiety had become the norm for me. I couldn't remember the last time I had really felt relaxed. I felt my blood pulse. It bore through me. I walked in time with my heart. Looking... always looking. A tight group of trees, a turned over car, a partially torn down house... finding whatever I could for cover, just in case.

As I watched the sky brightening, I searched for the best place to take shelter for the day. I needed something small and mostly enclosed. Places you wouldn't expect to find a human. They weren't looking for just anything that moved... they wanted to rid the world of intelligence. I looked down at my dogs, grateful, but wishing I were them. They would only be taken if they stood in the way of reaching me. And as I watched the dogs trot happily down the slope on the side of the road, I realized they were going toward a small pipe that led under the road. The brush was thick around it. I decided to use it as my camping ground. Not very comfortable, but it would protect me. I hadn't found food to hunt or collect through the night and so had already started delving into my supplies. We finished dinner just as the sun came over the trees. I stuffed some branches into one end of the pipe and had the dogs go in the other side. I climbed in backward with more branches to block us in.

It was tight. But the air came in nicely and the intensity of the sun wouldn't make us uncomfortable. I was tired, but used to the exercise. I relaxed, remembering a time when I would have fallen over from hours of walking. The heat from my dog's bodies draped over my legs soothed my muscles. I drifted, and I found myself in a half sleep. The sounds of the world were always creeping into my dreams. I never knew how much time was passing. I just waited for the sun to start setting. When the world becomes dark, I thought, I can continue. Again, I woke and drifted back to sleep. I heard the creek of a door... and again... no, was it a cry? An animal in pain... I was hunting... no, I was inside...

My heart skipped a beat as my eyes shot open. I laid my hand on one of my dogs, to comfort them and let them know I understood. Their whimpering stopped, but they stayed still, listening. I waited until I could hear it, too. The seconds lengthened as I strained my ears. The sun was at my feet now; the day coming to an end. I need to move soon, I thought. I couldn't stay in that tube forever. I hoped it wouldn't last. The thoughts tumbled from my mind as I heard a crash down the street.

The car, I thought... that was the car I passed at the side of the road. Are they searching it? No, they don't search like that. They're impatient. They follow movement. But why the broken window?

A scream. I could feel a tear roll down my cheek as I waited and listened. But I didn't hear pleading or crying. There was no yelling or fighting back. I saw the flash of a rabbit run past the opening. I took a deep breath. It was only a rabbit. They wont hurt an animal. It was just in the wrong place. I reassured myself in hopes that the alternative was not true. I would never become used to loss. It didn't matter if I had never met the person before. It left me feeling sick. Empathy was not a helpful trait anymore.

I could hear the foot steps; two of them at the very least. One with a machine. That explained the broken window. They weren't graceful, and using a full body machine to add strength didn't make their movements seem any easier. The chattered back and forth, walking closer. I may not have known anything about their language, but I had really started to understand their tone. And with how deep the noises were becoming, I braced waiting for the action to break out. Their sound and vocal range were much lower than ours. It meant I didn't have to worry about my dogs whimpering, but I also couldn't hear an intense fight. The voices silenced. I knew they must still be talking, but they were far out of the range I could hear them in.

The machine fell hard on the pavement, and almost immediately one of them was thrown off the side of the road. I could see all of it: the hard shine of it's body. It lifted itself back onto all fours and sulked toward the street. But it stopped, looking toward me. My heart stopped again. I couldn't breathe. It can't see you, I thought, the sun is in it's eyes. Don't see me, just keep walking... don't see me.. don't see me. I was chanting in my head, keeping my eyes closed tight as if my lack of vision would block theirs. I opened my eyes to the sudden noise. It wasn't what I was expecting. The rabbit ran away from the brush and into the field. All eyes were back on the road, ready to continue their journey. I didn't know I could possibly love a rabbit so much.

I listened as the noises drifted away. My heart slowed as the sun set. I continued my journey, hoping and praying that they were moving faster than I was. That wasn't something I wanted to run into again.

The night pressed on and I came to the edge of the forest I had been walking through. I looked out from the cover of the trees. A small town lay ahead. It was fairly open, and I was hesitant to move forward. But a town also meant I could find some easy food. The dogs had caught their dinner for the night and ate well, but I was starting to lose energy.

Light was starting to grow in the east, but I knew the sun wouldn't rise for a while yet. The rest of the world was dark. The moon had set early and the woods had been a trap for darkness. The ability to see were my path now lead was a gift and a curse. But I had to take my chances. I continued forward, one dog on each side, alert and focused. I felt like a spy from a poorly made film. I was creeping in the shadows and using anything I could find for cover. I know a light post may seem like a horrible hiding place, and it is. But it's better than walking down the middle of the street. I've seen people survive in plain sight before. It takes a solid object, complete silence and stillness, and a bit of luck. But fear could drive a person mad and faith was hard to come by. No one could stay still forever.

I started cutting through the yards, rounding the edges of the houses for cover and searching the garbage left behind. My dogs shifted ahead of me and trotted to the side door of the next house. It was broken and hanging from one hinge. They looked back for confirmation and I nodded. One slipped in after the other and I was alone in the trees. I waited. Steadying myself, I closed my eyes to keep my focus on my other senses. I could hear the dogs inside the house and the bugs all around me. I felt the soft wind against my face and the pressure of the air dropping. The smell of the plants around me preparing for the approaching storm filled me and relaxed my nerves. I knew I wouldn't see the sun rise this morning. The clouds were coming in dark and full. I would take all the time I could in whatever cover the weather would give me. It was a slow process to travel across county by foot.

One dog looked out through the opening. I nodded. He surveyed the scene and moved back toward me. The other popped out behind with a bag in his mouth. The first continued past me and stayed at the edge of the garden to keep watch while the other brought me his findings. It was meat. Someone must have left in a hurry, and recently. It had already been cooked. I sat and started eating right there. I knew I didn't have much time left, and this was obviously not a safe place to stay for the hours of daylight. I could feel the hunger pains soothing away. I usually never realized how hungry I was until I started eating. I took off two chunks and wrapped the rest for later. I fed the dog nearest to me his share and turned to the other dog and made a quick click noise for attention. But he didn't move. His ears were perked and his hair bristled. I heard the slow whimper from the dog next to me and I rested my arm around him to let him know I understood. I was still and listening.

A car door? The noises were soft and nearby. Whispers. It must be humans. Driving a car? Were they mad? Not only was gas impossible to come by, but it's like you're sitting in a giant target. I started to slip from the garden, shifting to the corner of the house to get a better look. My dogs stayed at my heels, keeping a close watch in both directions. Peering through the branches of a bush that was long dead, I looked down the street.

There they were just across the street and only one house down, their movements barely visible in the dark of a stormy twilight. It was a family, or what had turned into a family due to the conditions humanity had found itself in. Human nature hadn't changed just because we were forced apart. People grew attached to those they had spent a short time with. Some company usually felt better than no company at all.

A child moved back toward the house as the others entered the car. I couldn't tell how many people were fitting into the car. I leaned forward, ready to move toward them. But one of my dogs blocked my path. My vision shifted down the road in the other direction as my dogs moved in closer to me. They weren't taking notice to the people and their car. Rounding the street corner were three more of those... things. Another machine again. Very likely the same crew I had encountered before. I looked back at the people, the pain in my chest tightening as my breathing became more shallow. But they weren't looking. They were still organizing the car. No hiding, no running... my heart skipped a beat as I realized they weren't going to get away.

I had to risk it. I couldn't just sit there and watch. A whistle, high and loud, filled the air. No reaction from the creatures. I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't know if it would be audible to their hearing range. Either it wasn't, or they didn't care to pay attention. But the people heard it loud and clear. All movement had ceased.

The deep chatter started to become more clear. I watched as they shoved each other and tripped over practically nothing. They were like children. Deadly, impenetrable children. I was afraid to look. Afraid to know what would happen next. But the artist in me, the part that hadn't had an outlet for too long, locked my vision on them. I was fascinated by them just as much as I feared them. I followed the curves and angles with my eyes. We knew so little about them. I wanted to know more. I visualized how the mechanics of their systems must work. It wasn't human. It wasn't even earthly.

They stopped suddenly, and it was like the spell over me was broken. I watched, waiting to find what caught their attention. They started moving to the other side of the street. Cautiously, they crawled forward toward the trees directly across the street from me. A deer darted out and ran behind the nearest house. One of them pushed the other, accusingly. It fell to the ground.

The car engine roared to life, leaving all eyes on the small group of people. It went in reverse and screeched back out of the drive.

"What are you doing?!" I could hear the hysterics of the woman's voice in the car. "He's still inside!"

The driver changed gears again and hit the gas pedal to the floor. But with a huge crunch from an arm of the machine, all that accomplished was a lot of burnt rubber. A tear fell down my cheek as I saw the look of horror in the boy's eyes from the doorway of the house. I looked away, the emotions sweeping into me. Staring into my dogs eyes as the waited for my orders, I could see my family and my past. I could see the different versions of my future. And I again saw the boy, eyes wide.

I blinked it all away as I heard the crash of the machine falling onto the trunk of the car. The dogs started running across the street at my signal and I immediately ran in the opposite direction around the back of the house. Hesitating a moment before running to the back of the next house, I saw the dogs in the street, play fighting with each other. Good distraction, I thought while circling the next house into the front yard. The machine was flailing, like a turtle stuck on the back of it's shell. The others didn't help their fallen comrade because they were surrounding the dogs, curious of the action.

The boy was just in front of the door, fallen to his knees and crying. I glanced at the car to see the woman holding her hand to the window in his direction. The movements of my body didn't seem like my own. A force seemed to be pushing me before my brain could react and say no. I was across the street before I realized I was running again. Scooping up the boy in my arms, I turned to see the door being ripped from the car. I moved around to the back of the house, holding the boy's head and covering his ears. I was listening to the sounds that no human should ever hear. I turned to whistle for my dogs, but they were already almost at my heels.

I never knew how far I ran. I suppose I was lucky there was nothing else in my path. But the rain continued to fall and the boy held me tightly as I moved swiftly through the yards. I was looking, I suppose, for help... for some type of salvation. I was looking for faith as my body started to break down. The strength in my body was failing as the storm slowed and the clouds started to lighten.

We were in the middle of a field. The remains of cornstalks surrounded us in seemingly unending rows. I faltered... fell to my knees gasping for air. I slowly released my grip on the boy's body. We looked at each other for a moment, seeing a mirror image of our thoughts, worries, guilt, and sadness. I smiled. I knew he could see through it, but I smiled anyway.

"Let's breathe for a moment, and then we can find some shelter for the day." I was trying to reassure him as much as I was myself. I was trying to be strong because there was nothing else to do.

We stood together and walked, hand in hand in no particular direction. Eventually we found a farmhouse and a storm shelter in the back yard. The door to the shelter was broken, but we went in to get out of sight. The dogs went first, to scout the area. We followed to the bottom of the stairs. We each fell into an almost immediate sleep of exhaustion, still holding each other tightly. The dogs became our blankets, creating a small pile.

This was to be my new family. No questions asked, we accepted one another in all of our differences. Our dreams freed us from the terror. They washed away our fears and doubts and brought us to a new world. Better days and better places and a knowledge of something brighter yet to come.