61

Dog calmed down considerably, his breathing becoming steady again. He has walked over to me and is possessively dusting the debris from my body. The old house groans and creaks around us. A board released from the fight spontaneously hits the ground.

“We can talk,” Dog says to Truk, “but not here. This house is unstable. Let's go outside." Truk nods.

But I'm not ready to leave yet.

First, I sift through the rubble and pick up my fallen knife, which I place back in its secret sheath in my boot. Then I find the gun. Even though it's out of ammo, I want to hold it. If nothing else, I can at least use it as a deterrent, although that trick clearly didn't work very well with Truk.

After grabbing my gear, I head back to the stairs.

"Where are you going?" the two Alphas ask in unison, before looking at each other in irritation.

"To get the rest of my damn clothes."

***

Outside in the clearing, the air is warm, and the rays of the mid-morning sun are illuminating the pollen particles drifting