No One's Land

Chapter Two

You couldn't save me, mommy.

I jerk awake. His voice is crisp and clear in my head. I try to hold onto it, despite the ominous overtones. Escaping from the last tendrils of  sleep is hard, especially when all I want to do is escape from my particular reality. From this world.

This isn't a human world anymore.

But don't get me wrong, killing myself isn't an option. Why would the Great Powers That Be (if they even do 'be') choose me to survive whatever happened... just for me to off myself? And what did happen? Why am I the only human left in Athens for certain, the world maybe? These questions have haunted me for more than a decade. I push myself from Sammy's bed and cross to the room-connecting door. It stands open from last night, and I close it as I step through to my room.

I hear the growl before I see the dog.

I whip my head around and identify the source of the sound. My eyes fall on a dog that probably comes up to my waist; I'm five foot nine. It looks like a cross between a pitbull and something lanker, like a greyhound or doberman. Jesus. If this dog is a fucking pitbull-doberman mix, it will tear me apart.

The dog must sense my fear and doubt, because it takes a step forward, halfway into the room.

Okay. What... what do I know about dogs? My eyes track the dog's body upward, from paws to chest to neck to its lowered head with bared teeth. I know that dogs take eye contact as a form of aggression. I raise my eyes to meet the beady ones of the dog and force them to stay there. This is probably extremely,  monumentally,  ridiculously stupid. But. But I need to show the dog that I'm not easy prey. Maybe I can scare it away.

The dog takes a step forward. Then another. Its eyes never leave mine. One more step and it will be more than halfway across the room to me.

And what's worse? I don't have a weapon. Never had use for one. And even if I had a gun, I'm not sure I have the heart or the strength to kill the dog. Any animal, really.

I can feel my pulse hammering at my temples. I take four deep, slow breaths and force myself to calm down. I can think my way out of this. The only problem.... the problem is: I'm cornered. I need to get into a position of power. Okay. I sidle slightly to the left. The dog's eyes track mine and it let's out a roiling growl. The sound is so menacing that it sends a strong involuntary shudder through my body. I force my face to remain placid and take another step to the left. To Sammy's door. What if I don't have the strength, the willpower to open it? No time to think. I take another step and the dog takes two more. Keeping pace with me. How long has it been? Five minutes? Three? Thirty seconds? I couldn't say.

The door is less than six feet away.

Two options: I can keep going slowly and hope the dog has the patience to keep tracking me. Or. Or I can bolt to the door and hope to shut the dog out of Sammy's room. It hits me then, how much I'm relying on hope and luck for both of those choices. How utterly unprepared I am for this type of situation. The life-or-death kind. I take another step. Five feet to the door. The dog lowers its head even more, its jowls nearly brushing the carpet. It stalks toward me without a hint of fear or doubt in its eyes, and I know that it knows I'm cornered.

And the best part for the dog? It
doesn't have to share its breakfast. My racing heart is so loud I almost don't hear the song growl again. I let out a little whimper and the dog speeds its walk towards me. Still not a full walk, but a hunter's trudge. I decide right then that I am not going to die today.

I bolt for the door and the dog jumps, keeping exact pace with me.