A town square sat at the end of the road, an expansive area I assumed was once a small park with a church situated at its head. Scattered around the area were small shops perfectly spaced between each other, but the most surprising was what was occupying the space in front of us: Dogs. Lots of them.
The Dogs lazily ambled across the open space, their paws crunching softly on the snow, surveying their surroundings as others basked in the warm sunlight. If I didn’t know better, these looked like real animals, like deer, grazing in a meadow. Two Dogs stood rigidly at attention, their watchful eyes scanning the area as if guarding something precious inside.
“Fuck! What do we do?” I mouthed to Jude. I knew any sound we made could alert them to our presence, and I’d rather not fight more than a dozen Dogs.
Clenching his fingers into a fist and extending his thumb, Jude mouthed words back to me. “Head back to the gas station?”
My head turned to the Dogs in front of the church. What could they be guarding? What is hiding in this town? My eyes pleaded with Jude as I reached out, my fingers tightening around his wrist. Together, we ran toward the nearest house.
“What are we doing?” His voice was barely a whisper.
“Let’s go to the church, something’s drawing me there.” It was as if this church was hiding in my memories, and the onlyway it would come to light was if I got to it. I couldn’t exactly describe the feeling, but it was familiar.
Jude gulped audibly. “Go to the building surrounded by Dogs? Being killed wasn’t on my to-do list today.”
“Maybe this is where we were traveling to all along. Maybe we found it ourselves?” My words lingered in the air as the realization that I may be correct weaseled its way into our minds. Why would the Dogs all be here guarding a specific building? Surely they aren’t God worshipping contraptions.
To say the least.
Jude nodded hesitantly, his grip tight on my hand as we dashed around the side of the house. A weathered red fence, the color bleached by sun and rain, sagged gently backward along the perimeter.
“What’s the plan?” Jude paused, eyeing the sledgehammer leaning against the weathered shed, before asking his question.
“Let’s make our way toward the church,” I answered, looking around. “I was hoping we could run through the back of each house to get closer.”
“Why can’t we?” Jude swung the hammer toward the fence, blasting a hole through its exterior. The wood was so old it barely made a sound as it crumbled under the impact.
I crouched low, feeling the damp earth against my knees as I duck-walked through the narrow hole. “I thought we’d be a bit more subtle.”
“Subtle isn’t part of my vocabulary.”
Most humans aren’t; they use their ego to blow things up and start wars. At least vampires were methodical.
I chose not to engage in his flirting at this moment because I knew he resented it when I made comments about how lowly I thought of humans. My attention was drawn to the next house’s fence, which was newer than those around it. It was resin, where most of the others were made of wood. There was no wayJude’s sledgehammer would bust through it without attracting attention. “Any idea how to get to the next yard?”
Jude silently approached a swaying rope ladder, his eyes focused on the treehouse nestled high among the branches. I watched as a lime-green beanbag flew out the window, landing with a soft thud in the neighbor’s yard. Jude tumbled out right after it.
I gasped, my breath catching in my throat as he soared through the air, with a silent prayer on my lips, hoping he wouldn’t get hurt. When did I start caring about someone else’s safety over my own? Running to the fence, I put my cheek to its cold exterior. “Jude?” I whispered. “Are you alright?” Not a sound reached me, only an unsettling quiet that made me fear he lay unconscious from the fall. “Jude?”
Two heavy, black cable wires flopped over the fence, narrowly missing my face. Jude’s hushed whisper carried on the breeze from the other side of the fence. “Tie these to a tree branch so you can get over here safely.”
“Are you okay?” I whispered back, taking the wires in my palm.
“I-I’ll be alright.” His tone wasn’t convincing. “I didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.”
With a grunt, I pulled the cold, damp cables across the yard and carefully climbed the ladder toward the treehouse. Inside, mounds of untouched snow sat amongst discarded toys and half-read books. I wrapped the thick steel cables tightly around the massive trunk, reaching through the treehouse’s center. A metal baseball bat sat in the corner of the room, rusted and unusable. I balanced the bat precariously on the two taut cables, my hands gripping either side before I pushed off from the treehouse, hurtling toward the next yard.
I soared through the air, and it took every ounce of my strength to keep from letting out a scream. I knew I had torelease my grip on the rope before I reached the end. Otherwise, I’d collide with the tree Jude secured the other end to. Once I passed the top of the fence, I released my fists, sinking into the soft, pillowy snow with a muffled thud as the bat clattered to the ground next to me.
Jude ran over to me, his face etched with worry, eyes wide with concern. “Vinny, are you okay?”
I instantly sprang to my feet to prove to him I was unharmed. “Good idea with the wires.”
“I can be smart sometimes.”
He winked at me, and I remembered when his flirting used to annoy me—and still sometimes does—but I’ve learned to find it endearing. Secretly, it made me melt. How could someone infuriate and infatuate me at the same time? What was this hold he had over me?
Behind the house, a stone pathway led to a pale-yellow storefront. Jude gave a quick wave, urging me to follow him through the small trail. “This leads to one of the shops in the village square.”
