Dor knew they’d escaped the dogs. As they left the horde far behind, the black curtain lifted over the town. He didn’t notice exactly when, but somewhere along the way, the streetlights came back on, storefronts lit up, and traffic began to reappear. The skyscrapers and tall storefronts began to glow with a red tint, the beginnings of a sun-rise. Dad weaved in and out of the sporadic morning traffic as the Trans-Am rumbled down the four-lane streets. They were headed out of town.

Uncle Ron contorted around to glare back at Dor, gnawing his gums as he waited for the answer to his earlier question. Dad was pissed, and Uncle Ron wanted answers. Leaving town was the least of Dor’s concerns right now. Despite the glare, Dor took another swig from his flask. He relished the burn down his throat and the nausea that spread through his gut. Discomfort made for a great escape. It distracted him from his troubles for a moment.

However, he couldn’t ignore Uncle Ron. The big guy wouldn’t let him.

“I don’t know what to do next,” Dor replied. "I know the end goal, but I don't know how to get there."

Uncle Ron winced.

“All I could think about was how to escape,” Dor continued. “We need to find a prompt. That’s all that matters. I figure we’ll bust down doors and raid people’s homes and do whatever it takes to find an unanswered prompt.”

Dad didn’t play any music. He didn’t want to even try to communicate with Dor right now. Seemed he'd let Uncle Ron do all the interrogating. “You made it sound like you had it all figured out,” Uncle Ron said. “I took your word for it. Seemed like you were the only one of us who knew what the hell was going on.”

Uncle Ron turned his glare to the Peter Rabbit comforter huddled next to Dor. “I was wrong,” he said. “You’re just fucked up.”

Dor could figure where the big guy was going with that. “Don’t,” he pleaded. “Don’t abandon her.”

“Stop the car, Manny,” Uncle Ron said.

A couple blocks of uncomfortable silence later, Dad slowed the car and turned into a gas station. He killed the engine and rolled to a stop in front of a pump. Other than that, Dad didn’t do anything else. He just sat there, staring at the steering wheel in silence. I’m a piece of shit. Even…even Dad thinks so.

Uncle Ron opened his door and rocked his hulking frame out of the car. It wasn’t to pump gas either. He pulled the front-seat forward and pointed. “Get out.”

“Don’t…don’t, please!” Dor begged and groveled and tried every trick he could think of to change the stubborn man’s mind, but in the end, he got out of the car.

“Get your monster out of there, too,” Uncle Ron said.

Dor tried pleading again, but it was all for naught. He was an idiot and a piece of shit. Worse yet, he lacked a real backbone. “Put your mitts on, Eta,” he told her, completely neglecting to remind her she was a beast. “Come on out of there.”

It really slayed his emotions when she listened. Eta pulled her claws out of the upholstery, put her mitts back on and crawled out the passenger side, wrapped up tight in her blanket all the while. She was lost and she was scared. Dor knew that much. And out here, standing in an even more unfamiliar location, she pulled the comforter tight and stood right next to Dor, rubbing shoulders so close that he wondered if she was trying to melt into him to escape her surroundings.

Dor needed to make a really big decision. Originally, he wanted both his cake and to eat it, too. He wanted to find his family without leaving a pathetic monster behind to Mister Jenken’s wolves. Between the veil of smoke and the plan he’d made, he’d only been acting upon a narrow focus, ignoring the details in favor of the big picture. It’ll all work out in the end. Except, right now he knew it really wouldn’t work out.

He needed to choose between finding his family and caring for his pathetic monster.

‘I can do both!’

‘I can’t be in two places at once,’ Mr. Body replied.

‘What about you, Sargent?’

‘No can do, private,’ Sargent Berry replied. ‘My orders are for an escort mission, not a rescue mission.’

Dor’s arch nemesis and his commanding officer couldn’t help with this one. He was on his own. Completely disregarding her claws, Dor put his arm around his monster. So pathetic. As to whether he meant the monster or himself, he didn't know.

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“Tell Uncle Ron about your tomatoes,” Dor told her.

She didn’t respond.

“Tell him about Jasper’s garden and that trick thumb.”

No reaction.

“How about cross-stitch?” Dor asked. “Tell him about the boss’s art. Remember? His sewing machine and those living creations.”

She retreated into herself and he couldn’t bring himself to yell at her right now. After all she’d been through today, that wasn’t how he wanted her to remember him. I can’t find my family with Mister Jenken’s wolves nipping on our heels and God in the ceiling fucking with us. Dor made a big assumption. If the wolves weren’t after him and only wanted Eta, then perhaps God in the ceiling was the same way. Maybe God was only fucking with them because of that monster hiding upstairs? We’ve got nothing to lose testing that theory. That last thought wasn’t true. He had his pathetic monster to lose.

Still, Uncle Ron was right and Dor was a child. This was an adult discussion and Dor had no business sitting at the table. He was just a kid who’d put a gun to his head, throwing a tantrum to get his way. If I have to go that far, it can’t be a good decision. Right? He didn’t know, and that was the problem.

Dad opened his door and got out. Dor ignored him and focused on the monster.

“Listen here,” he told her. “You have claws and sometimes you’re gonna have to use them. The trick is to know when to take the mitts off, ya hear?”

She didn’t respond, but he couldn’t bring himself to yell. Selfishly, he wanted her to remember him as less of an asshole, even at the expense of her safety. Dor pulled out his wallet. Other than booze and food, he never had any real expenses. Back in the day, he’d hide out in the restaurant all the time, noob-leveling to his heart’s content. He took out every dollar he had, roughly $400, and reached into the blanket to tuck it into her tunic’s pocket. She didn’t react. Eta might as well have been comatose.

This’ll be good for her. I’m a bad influence. All I’ve done is shield her from the world, sheltering her away from self-sufficiency. She’s strong and now she’ll be able to learn how to take care of herself. God knows I’m worthless in that regard. He couldn’t protect the monster even if he tried. His whole plan hinged on running away. For him, every plan hinged on running away.

“Take that, find a store and buy your tomatoes,” he said. “Even if they got brown spots, eat ‘em anyway. When you go in, keep your tail all wrapped up. I’ll get you a pair of sunglasses to hide those eyes, and then you’ll be able to pass as normal. Hide what you can from people. That’s what you do. And never forget to keep those mitts on. If the wolves find you, that’s when you know you can take them off.”

He wanted nothing more than to put a gun to his head and keep his monster, but that would come at the expense of losing his family. He couldn’t be a child. He needed to reason this out like an adult. If it wasn’t for Sargent Berry burying his emotions underneath a sea of whiskey, this decision would be impossible to face. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too. The monster’s gotta go. I’ve gotta be an adult. Uncle Ron’s anger he could deal with, but Dor never wanted to see that look on his old man’s face again. Pure disappointment.

Dad stepped in front of them, completely stoic. He reached out and pulled the covers off the monster’s head. Early morning sun radiated off every crevice in her gaunt face. She was starving, terrified, and lost. “You look like shit,” Dad told her.

Then he turned to Dor. “You too, son. You look like shit, too.”

Dad left it at that and handed Uncle Ron a credit card. “Fill her up, Ronnie. This old girl guzzles it down like nobody’s business.”

He glanced back at Dor and Eta. “Get in the car. We’ll talk about this later,” Dad said. “And make sure those mitts stay on your friend. I seen what her nails did to the upholstery in back.”

The fuck? The fuck is he saying?

Uncle Ron didn’t know either. “The fuck you talking ‘bout, Manny?”

“I meant it just like I said it,” Dad replied. “Long as that girl keeps her mitts on, it’ll all work out in the end.”

“No!” Uncle Ron yelled. “No, it won’t. Your hippie bullshit don’t work here. That beast ain’t goin’ nowhere with us!”

“Leave it be,” Dad said. “My boy knows what’s up. He ain’t wrong.”

Dad’s reaction nearly brought Dor to his knees. How the fuck did his Dad still have faith in him? Maybe…maybe that was the difference between a real father and a big guy who merely assumed that role, the difference between Dad and Uncle Ron. Dad faced down Uncle Ron, stoic as ice. No, chill as a cucumber. Likely Dad didn’t understand any of the madness better than Uncle Ron did, but he chose to put his faith in his son.

‘But I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ either.’

‘Don’t you dare tell him that, soldier,’ Sargent Berry replied. ‘I’ll take care of the guilt. You keep fighting the good fight.’

“That boy’s off his rocker!” Uncle Ron yelled. “He chose a monster over finding my Lulu.”

“I just told ya, leave it be,” Dad replied. “My boy’s right. This ain’t hell. Whatever his friend is, he don’t think she’s no demon. And that’s our decision.”

“My Lulu…my Lulu.” Uncle Ron reached into his pocket, the pocket that bulged with the outline of the Glock.

“You don’t like it, hit the road,” Dad said undeterred. “We’ll do what we can, you do what you can. Might work out better that way, cover more ground, ya know it?"

“Fuck you, Mannie!” Uncle Ron pulled his hand out his pocket, except...he wasn’t holding a pistol.

He didn’t end up drawing a gun to get his way. It might be that was the difference between an adult and a child? Uncle Ron threw the credit card back in Dad’s face and crawled back into the car, slamming the door shut as he sealed himself inside.

Dad picked the credit card off the ground, brushed it off, and swiped it in the pump. Good thing money could be spent now, though it was close to fifteen dollars for a gallon of fuel.

“You two best get in on my side,” Dad said. “Ronnie ain’t gonna budge.”

Fuck…come on Sargent, do your fucking job. Dor couldn’t help bawling like a baby as him and Eta got back in the car. He’d really been a baby lately. Without his dad, he didn’t know what he’d do. The two of them hugged their knees tight in the backseat. This time, it wasn’t entire due to the lack of legroom either.