CHUPACABRA

Chapter Fifteen: The Interloper

Forty knows Thirty-Seven is more of an act first, face the consequences later type, but she doesn't expect him to pounce on the man without warning. The two crash through the bushes, cascading down the slight hill leading away from the road. Forty whirls around to see the farmer's head pop up from around the truck, his eyes wide and fearful through a foggy respirator mask. Thankfully, he's not reckless enough to walk any closer, deciding to fire at the tree line then dart inside the barn instead.

Forty ducks down to avoid any stray shot heading her way, catching the splintering of wood about thirty feet away from her where the two men are trying to bury their teeth in each other. She watches dumbstruck as the tall man launches Thirty-Seven off of him and into a patch of cactus with a kick to the gut.

"Jesus!" the man yells, a wicked grin on his face. Forty can smell him better now, recognizing the scent as the one from the dead cow. Like leaf mold and dirt-whipped bark. "I've never gotten that reaction to an offer before!"

Thirty-Seven groans, trying to free himself from the cactus. The spines pin down what little of his clothes remain. He settles on snarling at the man, red leaking into his eyes. The man turns to Forty next, raising his hands up in surrender. He's broad, built like someone who's meant to haul cargo around all day. Even scarier, he doesn't so much as sweat after tussling with Thirty-Seven.

"Look, little lady. I don't know why your friend over there is so pissed, but I come in peace." Forty bristles when his hand wanders to his pocket. Slower this time, he pulls out a small towel. "You may wanna wipe your face off. Got all that blood 'n stuff."

Forty wipes the remainder of the goat blood from her cheeks, embarrassed. The man abandons Thirty-Seven to walk slowly over to her. She steels herself so as not to look afraid. "Who are you?" she asks, claws extended.

"Well, by the smell of it, I'm one of you. You can call me Cade. What do I call you?" the man says, grinning. His teeth slowly move back into their sockets. Forty signals to the side to stop Thirty-Seven from attacking Cade again. He growls at her, but seeing the fear in her eyes makes him pause. Please, be reasonable for once. He busies himself with aggressively pulling the cactus spines out.

"Forty," she says, then as an afterthought, "he's Thirty-Seven." The man in question rolls his eyes, spitting a glob of red cactus fruit near Cade's shoe. He doesn't so much as blink at the slight.

Cade chuckles, his eyes creasing like any facial expression for him is a wide smile. "Quite an interesting set of names," he comments, spinning on his heel to start walking in the direction of the thicker woods. "Follow me, if you feel like it."

Forty doesn't know why she listens. Maybe it's the familiarity of another specimen. Furthermore, he hasn't tried to kill her yet even though Thirty-Seven attacked him, and he looks like he could take down a whole swath of humans if they were attacked. In truth, though she's just ate, Forty is exhausted emotionally and physically. The routine and care this man offers sounds nice. She tips her chin to tell Thirty-Seven to follow, which is met by an exasperated look.

"Are you recently turned?" Cade asks as they move back into the darkness of the trees.

"Turned?"

He looks at her like she's just spoken another language. "You know, infected. Got all bitey."

"I... was born this way," Forty says.

Cade let's out a hearty laugh. "Oh girly, I've heard that one before. Don't worry, I'm a Sucker too." He gestures at his teeth, just barely distended to prove his point. Forty isn't lying, but she decides not to press the matter. His one sentence opens so many questions.