The rustling of grass snapped Lynn into the present, though she didn’t move. A snort exploded nearby, an unmistakably animal noise. Slowly she reached for the rifle at her feet. As she did, the grass across the tin parted and a long, dark snout emerged.
At close quarters, Big Bastard was bigger than she’d expected. Domestic dogs had fallen in with the wild coyotes and their bloodlines had lent their feral cousins a larger stature. They regarded each other carefully for a moment, his eyes flickering toward her hand as it curled around the rifle strap. Another snort and he was gone, bounding back into the tall grass.
Lynn exhaled slowly. Even though he hadn’t threatened her overtly, she had seen the intelligence in his eyes. He’d been watching her as she daydreamed, had even snorted and alerted her to his presence. Only going for the rifle had been enough to scare him off. He knew what guns were and what they could do, she guessed. And he’d also known she was no threat to him without hers.
Lynn raced through the grass as soon as he was gone, not even trying to ignore the primitive urge to run to the antennae. “You see that?” she asked the second her foot hit the shingles. “You see Big Bastard come right up into the yard?”
“I saw him wander through the back acre a while ago,” Mother said. The pruning shears in her hands snapped down onto a maple branch that had come too close to the roof. She waited for the crash from below to finish her thought. “But I figured he was going to go rustle up some of the groundhogs out from the barn.”
Lynn snorted. “What he rustled up was me.”
Mother glanced over her shoulder. “He wasn’t scared of you?”
“Not until I went for my gun, then he backed off.”
Mother turned back to the maple, hands on her hips as she surveyed her work. “We’ve got bigger concerns than coyotes right now.”
“Unless nobody’s coming,” Lynn said, voicing the hope that had surfaced as the days passed uneventfully. “Unless they’re gone and you’re just being—” She stopped abruptly, aware of what she’d been about to say.
Mother glanced away from the trees, eyebrow raised. “Paranoid? You wouldn’t be the first to think it.”
Lynn glanced away, and Mother looked to the south again. “You’d best rest now,” she said. “I’ll wake you up in a bit. We’ll stay on the roof tonight, sleep in shifts.”
“Why tonight?”
“Same buck and his two does have been taking that fencerow path all season, but this afternoon he turned them away from grazing there. They ran off with their tails up screaming ‘danger’ for anyone smart enough to see it. Whoever’s coming for us, they’re in the fencerow, waiting for us to be stupid.”
They took turns dozing until the sun set, and they sat together in a silent companionship, rifles across their knees, listening to the crickets singing.
“Crickets got a lot to say tonight,” Lynn said absently.
Mother grunted in assent. “Always do, before the first hard frost,” she said. “Like they know they better get it out, because soon they won’t be able to sing.”
Dusk fell and a low fog crept in from the fields, obscuring their vision sixty yards out in all directions.
“What do we do if it’s full dark?” Lynn whispered. “When they come?”
“Shoot at what you hear. I trimmed the trees so there’s brush around the house. They can’t possibly be silent. Couple shots might be enough to scare them off.”
“If it’s not?”
“If it’s not, don’t be frightened when I turn my gun on you.”
“What?” The idea of being on the end of a gun Mother held made Lynn’s voice spike in panic.
“There’s things I haven’t told you,” Mother said quietly, eyes averted from Lynn’s face. “Now isn’t the time; I don’t want you distracted. Just know that there’s bad men in the world, and dying fast by your mother is a better way than theirs.”
Lynn swallowed hard, fighting the rise in her throat. “Yes, Mother.”
Darkness fell and they sat together quietly, shoulder to shoulder, facing south.
Three
Hours later Mother’s voice jerked Lynn out of sleep.
“Remember what you asked earlier? About what will we do if they come after dark?” She gestured toward the south field. “The idiots are bringing flashlights.”
They flattened themselves onto the shingles, cocked their rifles, and sighted toward the fan of lights coming for them. Mother counted slowly under her breath.
“I see seven,” she said. “I’m going to drop the one on the far left, supposing the others will break right when he falls.” She raised the rifle to her shoulder. “You might want to lead in that direction.”
“Yes, Mother,” Lynn said, raising her own gun.
The crack of Mother’s rifle made Lynn startle, even though she’d been expecting it. The lights immediately scattered, except for the farthest left, which fell to the ground and stayed there. Lynn’s first shot went too far right in her excitement, causing the running men to scatter in all directions. Mother’s rifle fired again, and another light fell to the ground, motionless. Irritated, Lynn fired again, this time dropping a light.