but feel this was good-bye, good-bye.
She said good-bye.
ashen and sober
HE WOKE, as he sometimes did, in the middle of the night. Dreams chased him out, their claws trying to pull him back under. He escaped, but only just. His head hurt.
He didn’t allow himself sentimentality as he eased out of bed, careful not to wake Alma. He hadn’t survived as long as he had by allowing himself to become sentimental. It wasn’t who he was.
The bees buzzed words he couldn’t understand. Something felt off. It was harder to breathe.
He dressed quietly. He thought he should pause at the doorway. Look back. Think of fond memories. Maybe even leave a note. Do something to show he wasn’t dead inside, that he could resemble a human being.
But he did none of this.
Bad Dog raised his head from his spot in front of the iron fireplace. Firelight danced along his fur. He cocked his head. Awake now, MasterBossLord?
“Yes.”
Done here?
“Yes.”
He stood and arched his back. AlmaLady gave me two bones and I chewed them to pieces!
Cavalo found his pack near the door. He dug through it until he found his old hunting coat. He put it on, wondering what he had been thinking the month was when he’d packed it earlier. “Good bones?”
Bad Dog shook himself. The best bones. Smells like wet outside.
“Snow’s coming.” He picked up the rifle. His bow.
I like snow?
Cavalo allowed himself to smile. “You do. You act like a puppy in snow. Cold white stuff.”
Bad Dog’s tail wagged, and he grinned. I like cold white stuff. I bite it and I’m not thirsty anymore. Gonna go home? SIRS is gonna be mad.
“I know.”
His ears flattened. He gonna yell?
“Probably.”
Stupid robot SIRS , the dog grumbled as he joined the man near the door.
Cavalo put his hand on the handle of the door, and a pang of something clenched his stomach. It felt like regret, a feeling he hadn’t had in years. Leaving like this was wrong, slinking out in the middle of the night. Even if the snow was coming. Even if he told himself he needed to get back before it fell. It still felt wrong, like running away.
You’re good at that , the bees mocked. You are so good at running. Run, little man. Run away. Leave them here to fend for themselves and run away while you still can. Government men are coming, so run while you can.
What about Smells Different? Bad Dog asked, nudging Cavalo’s hand.
“Smells Different?” Cavalo asked, sure he’d heard the dog say the words as if they were a name.
Trapped man. Boy. Bad guy. Smells Different.
Cavalo’s hand tightened on the door handle. “Why do you ask?”
Gonna get him? I can bite him for you. Guard him, I mean. Then bite him. Bet he tastes different too.
The fire crackled behind them.
“No,” the man said. “He stays here.”
Oh. Why? He was my prisoner.
“He’s a bad guy.”
Oh. Bad guys die, right?
“Right.”
Oh. Home?
“Home.”
He opened the door into the cold night.
DON’T LEAVE without saying something , Hank had told him. I’ll put supplies out back, but don’t you leave . We need to have a talk, you and I.
It couldn’t be helped. Cavalo was starting to feel the cold hands of claustrophobia wrapping around his heart and mind. He thought his breath was whistling in his throat. He thought it all in his head. He wondered, not for the first time, how much of his sanity was lost. If all these things in his life were imagined things and he was really trapped in a room somewhere, in a dark corner, this whole world nothing but a creation in his head. It wouldn’t surprise him.
So no. He had to leave. He had to get out of here. He didn’t know why he came in the first place. It had to do with the Dead Rabbit, but even that seemed small. Inconsequential. He should have just killed him, and then he could have gone home. He shouldn’t have crossed the divide. He should’ve killed the deer with the first shot. He should have saved his family.
He should have
She said good-bye.
ashen and sober
HE WOKE, as he sometimes did, in the middle of the night. Dreams chased him out, their claws trying to pull him back under. He escaped, but only just. His head hurt.
He didn’t allow himself sentimentality as he eased out of bed, careful not to wake Alma. He hadn’t survived as long as he had by allowing himself to become sentimental. It wasn’t who he was.
The bees buzzed words he couldn’t understand. Something felt off. It was harder to breathe.
He dressed quietly. He thought he should pause at the doorway. Look back. Think of fond memories. Maybe even leave a note. Do something to show he wasn’t dead inside, that he could resemble a human being.
But he did none of this.
Bad Dog raised his head from his spot in front of the iron fireplace. Firelight danced along his fur. He cocked his head. Awake now, MasterBossLord?
“Yes.”
Done here?
“Yes.”
He stood and arched his back. AlmaLady gave me two bones and I chewed them to pieces!
Cavalo found his pack near the door. He dug through it until he found his old hunting coat. He put it on, wondering what he had been thinking the month was when he’d packed it earlier. “Good bones?”
Bad Dog shook himself. The best bones. Smells like wet outside.
“Snow’s coming.” He picked up the rifle. His bow.
I like snow?
Cavalo allowed himself to smile. “You do. You act like a puppy in snow. Cold white stuff.”
Bad Dog’s tail wagged, and he grinned. I like cold white stuff. I bite it and I’m not thirsty anymore. Gonna go home? SIRS is gonna be mad.
“I know.”
His ears flattened. He gonna yell?
“Probably.”
Stupid robot SIRS , the dog grumbled as he joined the man near the door.
Cavalo put his hand on the handle of the door, and a pang of something clenched his stomach. It felt like regret, a feeling he hadn’t had in years. Leaving like this was wrong, slinking out in the middle of the night. Even if the snow was coming. Even if he told himself he needed to get back before it fell. It still felt wrong, like running away.
You’re good at that , the bees mocked. You are so good at running. Run, little man. Run away. Leave them here to fend for themselves and run away while you still can. Government men are coming, so run while you can.
What about Smells Different? Bad Dog asked, nudging Cavalo’s hand.
“Smells Different?” Cavalo asked, sure he’d heard the dog say the words as if they were a name.
Trapped man. Boy. Bad guy. Smells Different.
Cavalo’s hand tightened on the door handle. “Why do you ask?”
Gonna get him? I can bite him for you. Guard him, I mean. Then bite him. Bet he tastes different too.
The fire crackled behind them.
“No,” the man said. “He stays here.”
Oh. Why? He was my prisoner.
“He’s a bad guy.”
Oh. Bad guys die, right?
“Right.”
Oh. Home?
“Home.”
He opened the door into the cold night.
DON’T LEAVE without saying something , Hank had told him. I’ll put supplies out back, but don’t you leave . We need to have a talk, you and I.
It couldn’t be helped. Cavalo was starting to feel the cold hands of claustrophobia wrapping around his heart and mind. He thought his breath was whistling in his throat. He thought it all in his head. He wondered, not for the first time, how much of his sanity was lost. If all these things in his life were imagined things and he was really trapped in a room somewhere, in a dark corner, this whole world nothing but a creation in his head. It wouldn’t surprise him.
So no. He had to leave. He had to get out of here. He didn’t know why he came in the first place. It had to do with the Dead Rabbit, but even that seemed small. Inconsequential. He should have just killed him, and then he could have gone home. He shouldn’t have crossed the divide. He should’ve killed the deer with the first shot. He should have saved his family.
He should have
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