In minutes the clacking of chitin against stone and asphalt faded into the ambient pressure of unnoticed sound that weighed on the quiet streets. The fear waned and she stumbled, as thought returned. That was different, there’d been no chance to struggle. Only run from or face inevitable death. More visceral than the mist or her first glimpse of the read. Knowledge bred uncertainty and in that moment she understood helplessness. Was that how Mensha felt when poison neutered him down to his failing heart?

Mensha pushed a fast pace, gone was the steady tug replaced with a jerking force. She wasn’t the only one who needed to think, to calm down, She sidled beside her partner and mastered her breath, “We need to talk.”

He replied with a sharp tug and hell to a measured pace, her body tensed to run at the faintest sound. Mensha found another trashed storefront and opened the door with a piecing jingle. Her gaze swept across brushes, hair sprays, and glittering mirror shards salon she amended. She carefully stepped through the various meses as they slipped into a room with slides covering its closed windows. He closed the door.

Strings of tension eased and a long shuddering sigh escaped her. She started to speak but found no words she glanced at her partner who’d slid to the ground, back pressed to the door.

His hand parted his cloak and his head nestled in them. He plopped his elbow on bent knees and stared vacantly at the fallen wracks of product littering the floor, and the deep shadows her light cast. His injured arm hung listless in the sling.

“Are, are you okay ?” she said slipping beside him and hugged her knees. Her split cloak brightened the room. A beat passed.

“I should have noticed it,” he said anger and reproach coequal in his seething voice. What little she saw of his hinted a snarl.

She sighed, she wanted to comfort him for the mistake hadn’t even considered yet doubted it would help. Though she wasn’t certain what he was apologizing for, “Explain what happened, please,” she said instead, and relaxed as his frown twisted into a constipation.

“I, was following the smell, and it was so close, but I just couldn’t find them.” He said without anger, whether hidden or resolved she couldn’t tell.

“They are there though,” she said with a touch of desperation.

“Yes,” she blinked away the momentary heat in her eyes.

“Good,” she dragged the word and muttered it twice more. “Then what’s the problem and why are you apologizing.”

“I led us right to that thing,” that would do it.

She said and suppressed a shudder at the thought of her light glinting off the facets of its many compound eyes. If she let every horrifying thing get to her she wouldn’t help anyone. “I distinctly remember you turning us around.”

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“After we got far too close.”

“You couldn’t smell it?”

“I’d but I didn’t expect,” he paused, “I misjudged,” he sighed bleeding irritation as he continued staring at nothing. “I made an assumption and while I could blame nausea or lack of experience or whatever oddity is affecting the people we are supposed to save. The simple fact is that I thought and thought wrong. Sorry,” his head fell between his raised knees and Summer grabbed his hand in lieu of better ideas.

“You’re forgiven,” she tried, and she winced as an increasingly awkward silence dragged.

He chuckled faintly, “Thanks” and his back rose from its hunch and he stared at the ceiling. She sighed with a smile’s beginning and glanced away from the thoughts swirling in behind his eyes to join his upward contemplation.

It could’ve been worse she mused, she might’ve tripped or her burgeoning senses failed and it would’ve been their end. The visions of grim realities swept through and left an appreciation, for her present aches. They’d also learned about the hunter, and she could disavow the meager confidence gained from killing its kin.

Confidence that could’ve killed her seeing as she’d thought of the beast as a threat to other survivors, and Mensha rather than herself. Yet the ease with which it split stone reminded her she was still fragile.

“I think I owe you an apology too,” Her gaze roamed his face as he met her. Numerous small cuts marred his dark skin with thin red lines. The question obvious in his eyes, she continued. “You told me there was another one of those things,” they really needed to settle on a name, she shook the thought off. ”And I got so caught up in worrying what it could do to them, that I forgot to worry about us.”

He listened and they lapsed into a small but not uncomfortable silence.

“So forgiven?” she asked, he smiled.

“It’d be silly to hold who you are against you” She smiled and fell into the familiar play.”

“And who am I,?” she said and leaned into him.

“Summer, the kind and caring love of my life.” She sighed and nestled into his shoulder. She stared at their conjoined fingers, her glowing digits shone a pale white and cast his fingers in deep shadows. His thumb traced her knuckles and she let her worries fall for a moment.

“We’ll do better,” she whispered as the last dregs of dread vanished.

“Always,” he agreed, and she closed her eyes as silence passed between them.

One problem gone, yet more remained. If only a conversation could convince things to stop trying to kill her. She roused her tired thoughts, “How are we going to find them,” she muttered and opened her eyes, “Should we try seeing as they seem to have the whole green monster problem solved?” she turned to her partner.

He huffed at her, “Solved is a strong word, I’ve tracked them this far and so has it, and if we need proof that woman clearly shows their method isn’t perfect.” He said with distinctly mirthless humor.

Was this his way of coping or did he genuinely find the situation funny, she sighed it was probably a bit of both. “As depressingly insightful as that is it doesn’t get us closer to a solution. So any ideas,” she hoped her annoyance wasn’t too clear.

His eyes turned thoughtful and she took her own advice. However, any thought of searching stumbled when she hit the monster problem. She considered creating a trap, but everything she thought would take hours at best, and then dyeing her cloak became another problem she sighed and glanced at Mensha. “Anything?” she asked before being forced to bounce bad ideas off him.

He jolted and blinked to attention, “No,“ she swallowed an angry breath, “but what if they find us,” the hiss died in her throat.