The Blind Bronco had never looked better to Chelsea as the cold, relentless wind blew her and Bentley through the door of the trailer. The bar stood immaculately clean, as always, and Florence smiled at her.
The teen aged beauty queen gestured to a stool. “Welcome back. I thought we’d seen the last of you.”
The last five months in the Dakotas had ground cattle-drive chic into her wardrobe, and these people were pure urban working class. It was all baggy denim and hoodies as far as the eye could see. Her fringed leather duster and matching black Stetson stood out to say the least.
Are you okay?” She hadn’t meant to ask, but the question slipped out.
He shook himself. “Yeah. Just. Stuff. You know.”
“Oh, believe me, I know about “just stuff.” I’m comprised of about ninety percent “just stuff”.”
A stand alone short story, featuring the cast of Uncommon Animals.
“My ride won’t be here for hours yet.”
“That’s not fair.” She wiped at her face. “It’s not enough time.”
“Time for what?” He smiled, low and gentle. “To convince me to stay? Or for me to beg you to leave with me?”
“Either.” She sucked in a breath, but her chest still felt too tight. “Both.”
The second day of the storm had Chelsea pacing the hotel room. There were five steps between walls. The only five steps she had. She’d been walking them since she woke up.
He shuffled over, eyes bright and smiling. Chelsea’s stomach bottomed out. The man had tried to lie about his name and had done so poorly. Like many new hunters did. Yet he had beheaded a fairly big monster in moments. He moved a bit like the older people she hunted with, smooth and precise. But Rick had… an edge. He was so much faster… better than anybody she’d ever seen.
Chelsea fished her glasses out of her coat. When she had secured hers, she reached into her coat again for a pair of shaded goggles. They fit Bentley perfectly, and he didn’t attempt to shake them off to her relief.
Keegan paced in front of her, long, thin legs eating up the distance between the dark headlights. The other monster hunters stood around in shifting groups of denim, flannel, and leather. Nobody talked much, and all the laughter was short and sharp in the ever-blowing prairie wind.
Taku-He turned deeper into the prairie.
Oh no you don’t!
Thought and action came at the same time. She floored her car once more; the wild bouncing briefly bringing on fear for her suspension, and overtook the monster.
Words That Burn Like Fire 