Dew is still on the ground, and the sun is barely peeking over the horizon, when we make our way towards Cox’s former compound. If there is a more unlikely place they would expect to find us—I can’t think of one at the moment. About four days away, and as far from Cox as we can get. Hopefully, we will run into other wary travelers like ourselves. Or better yet, some heavily armed allies.

“I have to admit, James—“Anthony says, breaking the silence. “I’m getting a little tired of all this one-with-nature time! I never figured this county was so big. And I know you think staying in the bush is our best bet for avoiding Cox and his gang…but it's getting tiresome. Makes me almost miss seeing all those loaded down log trucks….Almost.” Anthony chuckles softly.

I remain silent, my eyes sweeping the immediate area for threats. A loud snapping of branches, directly behind me, causes me to pivot back in that direction. A surprised groan escapes my lips.

Anthony is dangling in the air, about three feet above the level of my head. His hands scratch at something, unseen, encircling his throat. The wet gurgling of his strangled breaths is enough to set my teeth on edge. I pull my puny gun from my waistband and aim it above Anthony’s head and to the right—looking for some kind of tripwire. There doesn’t seem to be one. Suddenly, I have a deep longing for the assault rifles we abandoned—after splaying out Cox’s henchmen—for the sake of speed and inconspicuousness.

“Put—down—the—weapon!” A voice booms. I immediately recognize it for what it is. One of the strange beings from the shed. Cox’s alien friends. The same strange enunciation. The same grating sound to the words. Definitely not a native to the human language.

“I said—put the weapon down, human. Now! I do not wish to snap your friend in half. Not without good reason! Somehow, I don’t think you wish that either. Am I correct in my assumption?” the irritating voice taunts.

I drop the pistol onto the ground. Careful to keep it within reach, should I need to hurriedly scoop it up. My eyes remain riveted on the spot where Anthony hangs in midair.

“Good,” the voice states drolly. “Now, listen carefully to what I say! You will not interfere with our plans. You or this other one. You will go about your meager lives. You will not get in the way of the messenger. His mission is bigger than either you or any faction of humans. In fact, the fate of your entire planet hinges on the successful delivery of his message. Nothing must get in the way of the message. You are an intelligent, and resourceful human. I’m sure you can understand what I am saying to you. We do not wish to kill you. It is hoped, that in time, you can be brought over to our side—that you will see the merits of our mission. This being the case, I have been instructed to impart upon you our simple demands. Mind your own business. Seek the comfort of other humans, if you desire it. But do not impede our mission. Or you will die. You and anyone else you enlist. Do you understand, human?”

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“Yes,” I say hurriedly. I glance up at Anthony’s dangling form. He has lost consciousness and is no longer struggling. “I understand. We will not interfere. Now, please let him down. He needs to breathe.”

A brief pause.

“Very well,” the voice intones.

Before I can protest, Anthony’s arm is gripped by a seemingly invisible hand and pulled upward. The rigid arm is then snapped backward at the elbow. White, jagged bone pokes through the flesh, marred by streaks of blood. A moment later, Anthony’s throat is released and he plummets to the ground. I run to his side, inspecting him for other wounds and glancing at his broken arm.

“Just a reminder, human. Do not interfere. Or next time, things will be much worse for you. And the other one.”

A loud crash through the foliage is all that tells me the entity is moving off in another direction. I briefly follow its exit with my eyes and then look around for something to splint Anthony’s broken arm. I am grateful for the small bottle of wine we salvaged from the Martin’s home. It will help in the cleaning of his wound.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Anthony moans softly and attempts to roll over onto his right side. The pain in his right arm informs him that this is a bad idea. He tries to use his arm as leverage to sit up, and hollers out. The arm is immobilized—a large branch, three smaller ones, and some twine keeping it in a straight position. He looks at the arm with slight confusion, but suddenly it all seems to come back to him.

“What the hell? That freaking alien-thing broke my arm?!? What the hell, man?!?”

“Yeah,” I mutter softly. I stir the vegetable soup in the pot, my mind whirring with thoughts and ideas. “But, that wasn’t the only message we were given. We’ve been warned…Not to interfere with the Reverend’s ‘mission’. That the whole of humanity depends on Cox’s message being widely received. The only reason we’re not dead already…Is because they believe they can win us over to their side. Eventually. So, what do you say, buddy? Where do we go from here?”

“I think you know my answer,” Anthony says with a stern look. “Cox killed my brother in cold blood. He murdered Carla and Deidre. He’s ravaging the county snatching women and committing all sorts of crimes against them…and humanity. I have a hard time believing you’re okay with that. So, if you’re not okay with that….Why would I be? I said I was tired of roughing it. I said I miss civilization. I didn't say I was crazy. Cox and his ilk represent the exact opposite of all that. They’re beasts. Savages. Not fit to be called human. If those...things...think a broken arm is gonna keep me from doing what’s right…They don’t know me. And they certainly don’t understand the pulse of humanity. They don’t want us interfering…I say we interfere big time. We find us a group of people willing to form a militia and we go after Cox. And we collect every gun, knife, and incendiary device we can find along the way. It’s the right thing to do. The only thing to do. Let's show Cox just how the human race has survived this long!"

I smile and reach over to shake Anthony’s left hand. He grips it firmly and gives me a hard look.

“I never had any doubt,” I say with an even wider smile. He smirks and releases my hand after a firm shake.

“Mmmhmm!”