Between Two Worlds

I snap my gaze upwards, surveying the bushy landscape for any hint of movement. The eerie stillness offers no reassurance; absence of evidence was not evidence of absence, especially when it came to them. The predators. The combination of canine ferocity and feral abandon. Naming them became inconsequential. In the era preceding the cataclysm, the cherished companions known as dogs sat loyally beside humanity—guardians in their own right. The calamity of war and the devastating embrace of nuclear fire altered everything. When mankind abandoned the planet, dogs remained, their destiny entwined with the untamed wolves. The interbreeding wrought by isolation and the insidious influence of radioactive decay birthed a new kind of monstrosity.

Evolution, twisted by human folly, stripped away the quaint domestic image of a pet dozing at the foot of one’s bed. This was the forgotten legacy of generations that thrived among the stars, leaving behind a planet reshaping itself without them. Perhaps the creatures too had forgotten—the comfort of cohabitation with humans, the warmth of affection, the security provided by their former masters. Now, they hunted. With lethal precision, they culled and consumed humankind, driven by an obscured instinct or a perverse memory of betrayal. The stench that heralded their presence might well be the residue of their corrupted diet, a warning siren for those still clinging to life in the desolate wastelands. The telltale odor indicated proximity, and with these beings, sighting would invariably arrive too late. Their agility was unparalleled, a diabolical fusion of speed and venomous intent. The merest graze of their maw spelled peril—a toxic cocktail of infection transforming flesh into necrotic wasteland.

I bore witness to the fall of neighbors, their wounds festering and darkening into the hue of death itself. And yet, some persevered, though survival imparted its own gruesome token—a patch of necrosis as a perpetual reminder of the close brush with annihilation. Gambles with fate hold no allure for me, so retreat is the rational choice. Easing to my feet, I remain vigilant, the woods around me a potential cordon of ambush. The fetid aroma infiltrates my nostrils, a confirmation of lurking danger. The need for escape is pressing; failure to evade their encirclement means a grim demise. Arboreal ascent provides no solace; even the trees have been conquered by these abominations. Their climbing prowess haunts my dreams with a pervasive sense of dread.

With painstaking slowness, I commence my retreat towards the remnants of civilization, towards the semblance of refuge that is my dwelling. Yet haste is a siren call I must resist, for unbridled fear is a beacon for these predators, igniting their chase instinct. An encounter from a prior year is testimony enough to the dire consequences. Therefore, against the surging tide of panic, I tread softly, suppressing the flight response with measured breaths. Survival hinges not on speed, but on wits—against the legacy of humanity’s destructive touch, a solitary wanderer persevered.

I hasten my pace towards my home, sensing the gaze of unseen watchers tracking my every move. It’s as if they’re playing a sinister game, and I’m the unwilling participant. A tingling sensation courses through me, causing the hairs on my nape to bristle in alarm. The pungent stench of decay intensifies, forcing me to intermittently cease breathing to stave off the nausea that threatens to overwhelm me. The familiar outline of our town looms into view, offering a glimmer of safety, when the premonition strikes.

Instinctively, I know it’s time to flee. Compelled by an overpowering impulse, I cast a fleeting glance rearward and spot a yellowish beast, its maw bristling with dagger-like fangs, barreling towards me. Their period of mockery has ended; they’ve chosen this moment to strike. The mere sight of this abomination in pursuit is enough to unleash the terror that’s been simmering within me.

I spin around and launch myself forward at breakneck speed toward the decrepit heart of our town, the mutant dogs, their howls like a chilling fanfare, have foregone stealth and are in hot pursuit. My boots kick up dust as I bolt down the central earthen track, past ramshackle dwellings, upending refuse containers in a feeble bid to thwart or at least sidetrack them. A fleeting glance back confirms my effort is in vain. Not today! I will not be prey today! I push onward, adrenaline surging, but the faces that peek out from the doorways quickly vanish, protection of self their sole concern. No aid will come from them - against the mutant dogs, it’s a solitary, brutal fight for survival. Come on! Just a bit more to go!

Their panting breath grazes the back of my calf, a harbinger of doom. I propel myself forward, hurdling past more of the derelict shelters to the turning point that leads to my own. My chest is ablaze, each gasp a fiery torture. The end is near, I fear. My strength wanes, fatigue clawing at my muscles. Not now. Please, not now. Then, a sound that chills my blood - the snap of jaws, narrowly missing my flesh. Yet, that terrifying sound spurs me on, and I find a shard of strength to hasten my pace, though pain lashes at my side with every stride. There! Salvation looms - my dwelling! Nearly there!

Through the chaos, my brother, Wolfe, appears in the threshold of our abode, eyes wide with shock, before vanishing inside once more. As the dog’s hot breath signals impending doom at my leg again, I doubt my chances of escape. But Wolfe reemerges, wielding the frozen carcass meant for tomorrow’s meal, tossing it into the maw of danger as I slip past and he seals our safety by slamming the door firm.

I slump against the cool interior wall, lungs heaving, fighting for life’s breath. Gradually, I regain composure and my gaze drifts toward Wolfe, who meets my eyes with a mix of anger and relief. “Thanks for the save,” I muster.

“The sheer recklessness of your act eclipses anything you’ve done before!” Wolfe’s voice ricochets off the walls.

“You don’t even know why I—”

“Were you past the boundary?”

“Yes, but—”

“Were you alone?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then it’s as I said. Mindless. Foolish beyond belief!” He towers over me, words echoing so that the whole town may take note. “Such idiocy! What if you’d been caught, collapsed, lost to us forever? If that doesn’t make you realize how serious the situation is, then think of tomorrows spoiled dinner! What shall we eat? Can you not see beyond your own whims? So self-absorbed!” His final accusation strikes deep, a searing pain, and I’m rendered speechless.

Tears gather like storm clouds, but I refuse to break down before him. Instead, I retreat, my feet carrying me swiftly to the refuge of my room. The click of the lock is my only solace as I succumb to despair upon my bed.

Wolfe’s voice trails after me, a mixture of regret and concern. “Rain, wait! I’m... sorry. Come back! I was harsh.”

But I’m deaf to his pleas as I weep until slumber mercifully claims me.