LIAM

That afternoon, new problems arise.

Storm clouds roll in overhead, changing the scents in the air and making the world around us humid and muggy. Andrea casts a few anxious looks at the dark clouds. “I really don’t want to be rained on.”

I don’t care about the rain. I just worry that it’s going to destroy all traces of Benny’s already thin scent-trail. But I don’t say this aloud because I don’t want to worry Andrea. I’ve promised to bring her brother back and I will.

As the wind shifts, it brings with it new scents, and one is a distant dragon. That might be trouble if it comes any closer, and I say so to Andrea.

“We’ll go for as long as we can, then.” She looks troubled, but she’s also practical. Sore feet she might be able to ignore, but not a dragon in the sky.

So we continue on, and then the rain begins to patter down on us. I stop looking for Benny’s trail and start looking for a shelter nearby as lightning crackles overhead. “Shelter,” I tell her. “Pick one.” I gesture at the fallen buildings around us, but none seem particularly good spots to stay in.

She immediately gestures at one with a big golden sign. “The arches, of course. I used to love eating there as a kid.”

We head toward the building, and I notice there’s a big, windowed area with colorful plastic slides and a pit full of balls that’s also filled up with leaves and debris. Andrea ignores that, though, heading inside where there are tables mounted to the floor and a counter across from them. It doesn’t look all that hospitable—most of the glass windows lining the building have shattered—but it’ll be dry enough.

Andrea moves to one of the tables and sits in the chair, sighing. “Gosh, this brings back memories. I remember how much Benny used to laugh and laugh when I took him out to the slide. And he’d always get a kid’s meal with nuggets. I’d get one too, just so he could have two toys.” She traces a finger through the dust on the tabletop as I move to her side. “I really miss those days. Everything was so simple and the food was so good.”

My hand twitches. I want to touch her shoulder, caress the braid of hair snaking down her back, but I don’t dare. Touching her means giving in to my need, and I have to fight it. “Should we look for food, then?”

“Oh, if there was food here, it’ll be long gone.” She props her chin up on her hand. “But as shelter, this’ll work.”

I grunt a response, and as she tosses her bag onto the table, I move around to check out our surroundings. The area behind the counter smells like old grease. There’s a pair of doors past all the tables, and from experience, I know these are the waste-rooms humans used to relieve themselves. There’s no doorknob, so I push one swinging door open and I’m surprised at the scents that hit me.

For one, it’s surprisingly clean. I recognize the astringent scent of the cleaning products that they use back at the fort. It’s old and faded, but it still lingers on all the surfaces. Whoever left this place behind wanted it to be left tidy. I also smell Benny here, which means he stopped in this building, and stopped in this room specifically. His scent is all over the stalls, and I flare my nostrils, then head back out of the room and down the hall to another door. This one has no signs on it, and it has a handle on the door, which makes it different than the others. Not a waste-room then. I test the round knob, and it opens easily; it’s been broken. I open the door and it smells like stale cigarette smoke. There are papers all over the desk, and a boxy thing that I’ve been told is a computer…and a small window with wavy, rippled glass. It’s open just a crack, and Benny’s scent leads here. I lean over the desk, pry open the window, and gaze outside. It leads to a few dumpsters and the parking lot, where a few old cars are still parked.

Interesting thing though…there’s a new scent here. A male, and he’s got an animal with him. A hunter? I lean out and Benny’s scent continues outside. He came in this room and left out the window, then.

I pace back out, following the scent. Andrea looks up at me curiously as I head out the double doors at what must be the front of the building, and look around. Benny’s scent is heaviest here. It smells like sweat and human boy and the corn cakes that Andrea nibbles on frequently. I glance around, then move toward a metal contraption that has the familiar, odd scent I’ve been picking up next to Benny’s scent for the last few days. I know a lot of human words, but this one escapes me. It looks like a metal frame of some kind, with two wheels and a set of handles.

“What is it?” Andrea asks.

I gesture at the thing. “This smells like him.”

“A bike! Where did he get that?” She leans forward, checking it over. “Chain’s good and tires have air. No wonder we haven’t been able to catch him.”

“I’ve smelled this,” I say, tapping one of the black wheels. “Ever since we left the fort.”

She swears under her breath. “If he had a bike this whole time, he could be miles and miles ahead of us.” Andrea drops to a crouch and presses a hand to her brow.

I can practically smell the despair on her and it bothers me. I’ve failed her. “It gets worse.”

She lifts her head and looks at me, her eyes shiny and wet. “What is it?”

I take her hand—even though I know I shouldn’t touch her—and lead her inside. I retrace Benny’s steps, taking her along his path. “He came in here,” I say, taking her to the clean waste-room. “And then he went back down the hall and into this second room here.” I take her to the one that smells of stale cigarettes, a stink that I hate more than the perfumes humans like. “He opened the window and that’s when a second smell appears.”

“A second smell?”

“An unfamiliar male. He had a creature with him. It’s possible he was hunting and Benny talked to him. Either way, they left together.”

Her eyes widen and she clenches her hands. “He was meeting someone, wasn’t he? He’s been planning this for a long time.”

I have no answer. I just shrug. “We can follow their trail, see where it leads—”

Thunder crashes overhead, and then the skies open up, letting out a deluge of heavy rain. Andrea’s face falls as the room grows darker around us. I know what she’s thinking. She’s torn between going after Benny and staying here, in the shelter. Her eyes look wet once more.

I put my hands on her shoulders, squeezing. “If you want to go out and keep going, we can.”

Thunder crashes and the skies light up with lightning, as if making a mockery of my words. Andrea stares at me, then shakes her head slowly. “I know it’s not wise. If we both catch colds we’re no good to anyone, and my feet hurt. We’ll stay here tonight.” Her eyes plead up at me. “Do you think he’s all right?”

“I smell no blood,” I admit, and when she gives a trembling nod, I pull her close against me. Touching her is dangerous, but…how can I not? She needs me, and I’m starting to worry that I need her, too.