Wide-eyed and covered in mud, eight-year-old Kayla Barnes listened intently from her hiding spot in the bushes as the truckers described the attacks. The men stood in a roadside rest area, draining canisters of coffee, and sharing the latest rumors. They talked of terrifying shrieks in the night from animals they had never heard before, and the mutilated cattle carcasses littering the fields in the mornings. In hushed voices, they said it would only be a matter of time before the strange new creatures killed someone.

Kayla said nothing, though she was bursting with questions. Even a slight movement would reveal herself. She breathed slowly, kept her body still, and listened patiently for more news about the monsters. She liked to daydream about fantastic creatures, and how she would hunt them down. The stories didn’t scare her because her father would certainly keep their village protected. He wasn’t afraid of anything.

“The Brunnard boys formed themselves a militia,” a tall man with a thick beard said.

“People are carrying guns everywhere they go now,” a shorter, bulkier fellow pointed out.

Kayla’s imagination wandered. Maybe a militia would recruit her and give her a rifle? Probably not. Her father wouldn’t let her touch a gun until she was older. On her back, alongside her black ponytail, was slung the homemade bow she carried everywhere, and used to harass birds and vermin. The thin branch she had made it from wasn’t very strong, but in her fantasies, it could punch through steel. She pictured the amazed expressions on the faces of her fellow villagers as she dragged a monster’s dead body through the streets by herself.

“I just can’t think where these cursed things came from,” the bearded trucker said. “Fifty years since we settled on this planet, and never seen animals like this.”

“I can’t wait to catch one, cut it open and figure it out,” the short man said.

“It’s a Helvetic plot, I tell you,” another voice called from behind one of the trucks.

“Shut your mouth, Tom,” the bearded man replied. “Everything’s a Helvetic plot to you. The solar flare last month, which you said was one of their space lasers? And the drought the year before? Nature’s harsh is all. These things probably migrated here from one of the unmapped territories.”

“So why don’t they eat what they kill?” the voice said.

The bearded man waved a dismissive hand and moved back to the cab of his truck, while his shorter friend grinned after him.

A fly landed on Kayla’s nose, but she didn’t dare swat it away. She’d crawled slowly and patiently through the bushes to get the actual story from these truckers. The attacks were accidents, her father had said. Like he had told her that there would always be enough food. And meteors never struck the ground. And they would one day be free of the Helvetic League, even though no-one pretended to believe it.

She waited until the men returned to their vehicles and drove off before she crawled back through the bushes. In the hedgerows and forests of the Lanstead farming plain, she was the Huntress of Caldera. No animal could hide from her, or dodge her arrows, though she was only allowed to have blunt ones. When she smeared mud over her face and vanished into the long grass around her house, she could even give the local cats a fright.

Kayla snuck through the hedgerows to her family’s farmhouse. When she hid, she could go wherever she wanted, and do whatever she wanted. When she was seen, she got into trouble for sneaking out.

“Oh Kayla, you’re so filthy!” snapped her mother, as Kayla returned to the house. “And in the nice new dress. I only bought it last week! Why can’t you behave like a normal child?”

Kayla sniffed. It was the same rebuke for anything that she did. She was starting to suspect her mother didn’t know what normal meant and just enjoyed scolding her.

“The people in Brunnard made a militia,” she said, “and they’re going to hunt the monsters that ripped their mayor’s buffalo in two. I didn’t see it, but my friend Kesan said its guts were pulled out all over the field.”

Her mother grimaced. “Just stop, won’t you? I can’t stand it when you talk of horrid things. Go and get clean, and don’t talk to me again until you’re civilized.”

Kayla ignored her. As usual, she ended up talking to herself, but it was nice to pretend. “Dad told me I’m supposed to muck out the pigs today,” she went on. “But there’s a lot of dung, and I think I need help with it.”

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Not that she would get any.

“He shouldn’t ask you to do such things—no wonder you spend all day rolling around in the mud,” her mother said. She tutted. “And he’s always out, helping other families fix their broken crap. Meanwhile, your poor neglected mother has to figure out how to do everything by herself.”

Her voice had become low and bitter, almost theatrical. Kayla wondered if complaining made her mother happy, because she seemed to put a lot of effort into it.

“No, Kayla,” she said firmly, “I want you to help me with the irrigation drone. There’re dozens of leaks in the line, and we need to go over every yard.”

A high-pitched call came from outside.

Her mother glanced out the window. “Those wretched hawks are nesting in the barn rafters again. Another chore for your father when he gets back.”

“I’ll do it!” Kayla raced for the door before her mother could react.

“No—stupid girl!” her mother yelled after her.

Kayla didn’t stop. Relieved at another chance to get out of the house and do something useful, she ran into the barn, taking the steps to the top level two at a time. She climbed onto a set of shelves that were backed against the wall, steadying herself as they shook beneath her. Overhead, a pair of hawks shrieked as she swung herself into the trusses like a monkey.

Kayla climbed along the narrow wooden struts until she stood over the center of the barn, trying not to think about the tractor and trailer below that she would hit if she fell. Once settled, she pulled out her homemade bow, aimed carefully, and shot an arrow at one of the hawks. It tumbled, flapping to catch itself before it hit the ground. Kayla steadied herself as it flew towards her. With one hand gripping a beam, she smacked hard with the outstretched bow, and the bird shrieked as it beat a hasty retreat. Another few shots had both hawks taking to the skies, abandoning their newly made nest.

Satisfied with her handiwork, Kayla climbed through the beams and sighed as she kicked the hawk’s pile of twigs away. If it were up to her, the birds would be welcome to nest in the roof, if only they didn’t keep attacking whoever went inside.

She climbed out the barn’s main window, seized the drainpipe, and used it to climb up to the roof. Sat on the edge, with her legs dangling over the drop, she gazed at the open fields. Everything outside of her house was glorious—golden fields, dotted by villages and farms, all the way to the horizon.

Kayla liked to watch her fellow colonists as they worked hard to build themselves a new home on Caldera.

The tall peaks of the Sentry mountain range framed the horizon, the natural border of the Lanstead plain, and she wondered how high she could climb if she could visit them.

Later that day, Kayla’s mother sent her into town to find her father. He was gathering men and women in the town square to form a militia, so she sat nearby on the fountain, swinging her legs. Jack Fenway, the town’s bailiff, winked at her as he carried rifles from his truck.

One of the younger men looked nervously at the assembled weapons. “Didn’t you see what those things can do?” he whined. “We can’t just go out there with hunting rifles.”

Kayla’s father stepped forward. Tall and muscular, his imposing figure dwarfed the younger man’s slight frame.

“You weren’t born here, were you?” her father said quietly.

The man shook his head. “Arrived a few months ago, after I lost my business on Misian.”

“So, you don’t know our ways yet. It’s true these rifles aren’t much, but it’s all we have—and sure, maybe it’s not enough. So, point to the man or woman you want to die in your place.”

“W-what?”

“You said yourself the creatures could kill us all. So, who’s going to die in your place while you hide in your basement? Choose.”

“I, uh…” The young man looked around for support, but the gathered crowd watched him with hard faces.

“Is it me? That’s fine kid, I’ll do it while you run on home. Only pack up your belongings and drive back to the starport, because there isn’t a family on this planet that will work with you again.” He turned away, a grimace on his face.

Jack rolled his eyes at Kayla’s father, then stepped up to the young man and shoved a rifle into his chest. “Rolf’s only teasing,” he said. “We’re not really giving you a choice.”

He winked at the cowed young man before turning to the others. “I shouldn’t have to tell anyone that we’re on our own out here. Nobody’s coming to help us deal with these creatures. We can show them we’re dangerous, and, like any other animal, they’ll back off. But if we try to hide, they’ll only get more brazen.”

As the small crowd began lining up to take a rifle, Kayla jumped off the fountain and joined her father, tugging insistently on his trouser leg. “When are you going to teach me to shoot?” she asked.

“When you’re twelve, and not a day before,” he responded firmly.

Kayla pouted. “Uncle Jack will teach me to shoot.” Jack Fenway was not her real uncle, but he had a strong friendship with her father, and often taught her new skills.

“You’ll listen to your dad, young Kayla,” said Jack. “If I catch you sneaking around in the fields again, I’ll take you right to the lockup.”

Kayla was startled by the severity of the punishment. Only criminals went to the lockup, and criminals were the lowest form of life in a colony town.

“It’d be, what, two years imprisonment for sneaking out?” her father asked, his face stony.

“You’re lying!” Kayla challenged him.

“Two years would be the minimum,” Jack agreed. “Though it could be longer, depending on how dirty the culprit is.”

“But I hate staying home,” Kayla moaned. “Mom hates me.”

Her father glanced at Jack, then dropped to his knee and looked his daughter in the eye.

“No more games, Kayla. I didn’t want to scare you, but we heard that these creatures have killed some people in the farms closer to the mountains. You see why we’re handing out guns now? This is a very serious situation. I want you to promise me you won’t sneak off outside anymore. Alright?”

Kayla dropped her head and promised, though her heart ached to do so.