An intruder in the night reminds Ryan that he can never lay down his guard, especially when it comes to keeping Cassie safe.
Ryan went to bed long after Cassie, as was their ritual. He conjured memories to ease him into sleep, filling his head with images of the lives they’d all been forced to abandon. The look of Cassie’s playroom; a hodgepodge of toddler toys and paperbacks and office supplies, a television set wedged in the corner next to a dusty work desk that was mostly used for storage. He could picture her small bookshelf stuffed with puzzles and Little Golden books and board games, the splash of bright green paint on the walls, the smells of apple juice and peanut butter crackers and the feel of of the light spilling into the room from the window.
He took out the picture, wrinkled from a thousand times folded and stuffed in his back pocket. He gazed at it, although in the blackness of the motel room it was only the image burned into his memory that he saw. He traced every fold like he was trying to unsmudge a wrinkle in time. And he missed her again, but he did it alone.
In the middle of the night, Ryan woke to the sound of someone trying to break into their motel room. The door was locked; the knob turned faintly back and forth, and in the complete silence that was their normal background, the sound was unmistakable. He threw the covers off and bolted upright, reaching in the dark for his gun.
Gripping the gun, Ryan inched towards the door. He placed his ear against it, straining to hear voices on the other end, count how many were there. His heart boomed thunder in his ears, drowning out all noise. The doorknob stopped turning. Ryan counted silently to five, reached down, and turned the knob. He heard the click of the lock before he threw open the door, and leveled his gun.
“Don’t shoot!” screamed a voice.
In the darkness, it was so difficult to see even a few feet ahead of him, but the moon was bright and he could tell that the voice, and the small shadow hunched in front him, belonged to a woman.
“What are you doing?” Ryan barked a hoarse whisper. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m sorry, please don’t shoot,” pleaded the woman. “I’m so alone, and I thought I heard voices following me and I was scared. I’ve been walking for --- well, I don’t know how long now. So long. Too long.” She stepped a little closer, and Ryan could see that she had long dark hair that draped over her thin shoulders. Thin and frail, like so many wanderers he’d glimpsed on their journey. Her wrist would probably fit between his thumb and index finger.
Ryan glanced back into the room. He heard the rustling of bed sheets as Cassie stirred; she was awake but staying quiet. He felt a quick flash of pride that inevitably turned to sadness. She had the healthy fear of strangers that would make most parents confident sending their children into the world. If only the world hadn’t become what it was.
“Get out of here,” said Ryan. “We can’t help you.”
“Do you have anything you can spare? I’ve been alone for so long. I don’t even know where I’m going anymore.”
“South,” replied Ryan. “You’re going south.”
He kept the gun pointed at the woman. He waited until her shadow disappeared from view before he closed the door again. It didn’t matter how frail or seemingly helpless she was. You couldn’t talk to strangers anymore. He’d learned that the hard way.
Ryan sat on the bed and let out a heavy sigh. He laid the gun down next to him and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Is she gone?” asked Cassie a minute later.
“Yeah,” replied Ryan, reaching out a hand in the darkness to find her leg beneath the blankets.
“Do we have to go?”
“Yeah, honey,” said Ryan. “We have to go.”
They packed their meager gear in silence and said their prayer of thanks and once again they were moving on.
Cassie asked where they were going, and Ryan told her they were getting closer to the city and had to start making up for lost time. He didn’t tell her that she should be worried about anything. He certainly didn’t tell her that he was afraid.
Ryan had heard wolves howling earlier that day. The woman had claimed she’d heard voices of people following her. That was enough to convince him that they needed to push on.
There were wolves of all different types, these days.
