Rolling black smoke slithers toward the setting sun. Tucked against a short, jagged mountain, Agena sits in shadow beside a small fire. She takes from her pack a steel thermos filled with dry ice. She stirs the pellets with a wooden spoon until finding a chunk of old meat, which she throws on the hot coals.
 
Moments later she spears the meat with a knife and takes the shriveled food off the fire. With a bitter, desperate and agonizing disposition, she feeds her impoverished hunger. She grabs her canteen, tilts back her head and pours a shallow mouthful of water. The desert is endless. The rations sustaining her are not.

Agena buries the coals with dirt, packs up and continues. The enormous sun, quickly descending, gives her a head start.

Agena reaches a heat-cracked road barely visible beneath the thin waves of sand drifting across its surface. Signless metal posts mark the path people once traveled when civilization still existed. Moments before cold night consumes the desert, Agena spots a large object ahead; something man-made. She walks faster as the bulky shadow takes the shape of a car.
 
She cautiously approaches. Before getting too close, she circles the area, searching for signs of movement, life or ambush. She hears nothing beyond her thoughts and the gusting wind preceding an oncoming storm.
 
Agena tries the door, which is locked, then smashes the back door window and crawls inside to the driver seat. No keys. She searches the cluttered area for any functional materials; an empty water bottle she throws away, a pencil and note pad she takes and in the glove compartment a pair of sunglasses. From the floor she grabs a newspaper yellowed by age.
 
The headline reads, “ABANDON CITY!” Photos show freeways packed with cars, buildings broken apart and a chaotic city destroyed. “TERMINAL REFUGEES ESCAPE QUARANTINE.” Agena shoves the paper into her pack and takes out a screwdriver she uses to break into the steering block. Her hands work fast, but the battery’s dead.
 
“Go figure.”
 
Agena leans back in the seat, indulging the rare opportunity for comfort. She closes her eyes. Wind howls past the car. Dirt and small rocks slam the frame. Somewhere inside the noise she hears something that ignites her attention. She sits up and looks out at a darkness that devours everything beyond her reach.
 
Agena gets out. Wind shuts the door. She sees the face too late. A blunt weapon smashes her head with a brutal force that puts her down.
 
She struggles on all fours, searching for her fallen ax through an agonizing haze. A filthy hand lifts her by the hair and throws her onto the hood. He wears an oil-stained jumpsuit with a nametag reading “Coe.” A crowbar hangs from his belt.
 
“Fuck the meat,” Coe grunts.
 
The gruesome yellow face attacks with open mouth, arrowhead incisors leading the charge. Agena resists. She pushes back his broad frame as it inches closer. She screams fear, disgust and anger. The sand storm strengthens.
 
“Eat the bitch.” Drool hangs from his lower lip. It lands on her shoulder. Revulsion sparks a surge of strength in Agena. She slips out from beneath and slams his head into the car. With a long, powerful arm, he throws a fist that takes her off her feet. Coe steps toward his prey as she crawls away.
 
“Fuck the meat, eat the bitch.” The grisly voice repeats. Agena finds the ax. She grabs it, spins around and takes a crowbar thrash to the skull.
 
Dazed behind a cloudy wall of pain, she watches Coe get on her the way he would a good screw. She pushes back his forehead with her palm as his heavy body grinds against her. “Fuck the meat.” He shoves a groping hand up her shirt. Tears wet her eyes. She feels his breath, smells his stench and anticipates unendurable agony. The sand storm engulfs them. “Eat the bitch.”
 
Agena shrieks panic when Coe’s fangs draw first blood. She stops as a dagger drives through the back of his neck; exiting the front followed by thick, slow moving, black blood. Agena rolls away, grabs her weapon and forces herself to wobbly feet.
 
Audrey yanks out the dagger. Coe grabs the wound while gasping. She kicks him down then swiftly draws the machete. With methodical force, Audrey finishes the job.

Through the storm Audrey slowly raises her eyes to Agena who yells over the wind.
 
“I was about to kill him, you bitch!”
 
Audrey yells back. “You’re welcome!”
 
“I don’t need your fucking help!”
 
Audrey sees past the front that keeps Agena alive. “I have a place. It’s safe, out of the storm!”
 
Agena eyes her with suspicion. “I don’t owe you shit!”
 
“We need to keep moving! We’ve been static too long! You coming or what?” Audrey walks away through the storm. Agena follows.

Agena lies in a tub filled with hot water while smoking a joint. Audrey lifts a bucket off some hot coals and pours more water into the tub. “Let’s take a look at your head.” She sits beside Agena who remains stiff and remote. “It’s not too bad, maybe a slight concussion.” Audrey gently cleans blood stuck in the surrounding hair and washes the wound underneath.
 
“I must smell worse than they do.” Agena speaks softly.
 
Audrey soaks a cloth with soap and water and washes Agena with gentle hands. “Nah, you’re just a little dirty is all. How long have you been drifting?”
 
“I don’t know. I holed up in the city for a while with some people I knew. It didn’t work out. I’ve been moving ever since.”
 
“You’re a survivor. We both are. It’s a burden I guess, living when everyone else is dead.”
 
“I’m sorry about before. It’s just that even the people who aren’t sick are kinda sick, ya know?” Agena attempts shedding her guard, but her self is buried so deep inside her nightmare all she feels is awkward.
 
“We’re animals again. There’s no right or wrong, just life and death.”
 
“A few weeks back I saved this crazy biker from like six Terminites. You know what he did?”
 
“I can imagine.”
 
“I didn’t kill him but I should have. He’ll find someone sooner or later.”
 
“Let’s get you out of there before the water freezes.” Audrey grabs a towel for Agena who stands into it. “Feel better?”
 
“Yeah. Thanks.”
 
A slight smile creeps across Agena as she affectionately gazes up at Audrey, who takes her in with her warm, loving eyes.

Audrey locks the panic room door as Agena puts on a clean shirt and boxers. “I never had time to build an extra bed, but it’s pretty roomy in there if you want to try.”
 
“This place is fucking great.”
 
“I’m lucky I found it. Whoever owned it before used his hands a lot, had a lot of scrap metal, lumber, all kinds of stuff lying around. I taught myself how to build and never stopped. Hop in.”
 
Agena steps into the coffin, Audrey follows. They lay down beside each other. Audrey closes the lid. The space is tight but comfortable.
 
Agena smiles girlishly and rolls onto her side facing Audrey. “A few hours ago I was hungry, thirsty, filthy and about to die. Maybe I did.”
 
“No. You’re warm. I think that means you’re alive.”
 
“Maybe it’s just the concussion and my near-death experience, but I haven’t felt like this since before the quake.”
 
Audrey touches Agena’s hand warmly. “Good.”
 
Agena puts her arm around Audrey. “Can I tell you something?”
 
“Please.”
 
“I’ve been running from those hungry fuckers a long time and even though I’d be damned before I’d give up fighting, tonight, when that bastard was laying on me not sure if he wanted to eat or fuck, for the very first time, the very first, I knew I was going to die and I wanted it. I was ready for this hell to finally just go away and leave me alone.”
 
“How do you feel now?”
 
Agena’s eyes sparkle as they stare into Audrey’s. Slowly she leans forward and kisses her. Audrey, reluctant at first, kisses back, unleashing a caged passion from Agena whose body writhes. Audrey withdraws until finally pulling away.
 
“Wait. Stop.”
 
“What’s wrong?”
 
“This isn’t what I want.”
 
“You don’t like me?”
 
Audrey answers carefully. “I do. But not like that.”
 
The stone surface Agena minutes ago shed returns harder than ever. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” Agena lies back down, facing the other way.
 
“Agena—”
 
“Forget it. It’s my fault. I was wrong to let myself feel again.”

 
From darkness emerges light. Through ghostly heat waves rising with the sun, an ominous black and chrome motorcycle speeds. Cecil drives. Colossal black goggles protect his cheeks and eyes. Long black dreadlocks fly parallel to the ground. Intricate tattoos paint both arms. He wears a suit of armor welded from scrap metal. An Iron Cross marks his chest plate.
 
The modified bike carries an assortment of pouches, containers and cases strapped to its metal frame. A rattlesnake skull dresses the handlebars with open jaws.
 
Cecil rages across the arid land, proclaiming his superiority with the engine’s roar.

Audrey wakes with a jolt and a gasp. The coffin lid is open, Agena gone. She rushes out and finds Agena by the arsenal holding a shotgun. “Jesus, you scared me. How’d you get up and not wake me?”
 
Agena smiles with the weapon. “Killer shotgun.”
 
“It’s for emergencies.”
 
Agena returns the weapon to its rack. “I’m sorry about last night, I feel really stupid. I guess that concussion fucked me harder than I realized.”
 
“I know. It’s okay.”
 
Audrey hugs Agena who is already too far away to reach.
 
“I want you to stay here as long as you need.”
 
“Really? Are you sure?”
 
“Of course I am. You’re the only friend I’ve got.”

Audrey moves to the door and unlocks the first dead bolt. “So what do you want for breakfast?”
 
From behind, a massive wooden mallet clobbers Audrey. The world turns black.

Inverted crucifixes. Shallow graves. The sound of dragging. Agena slaps Audrey awake then steps back, holding the shotgun.
 
Audrey slurs. “What happened? What are you doing?”
 
“You should have let me die. Since you punished me with life I’m not going to kill you.”
 
“Agena, please, don’t do this.” Fear shivers Audrey’s words.
 
“The nearest town is forty miles east. You find enough graves to hide in, I think a bitch like you can manage it. Get up.”
 
Audrey slowly rises. She glares at Agena with defeat, humiliation and dread. Agena racks a shell into the chamber and puts Audrey in her sight.
 
“Now get the fuck off my property.”

The feverish sun burns the earth as Audrey struggles against the desert. Every step Audrey takes hurts more than the last. Dry wounds crack her lips.
 
Night wakes when the last sliver of light dies to darkness. Moments after she passes a loose area of ground, the surface shifts. Dirt swells. A hole appears, and through it an abhorrent yellow face emerges. Black hole eyes spot Audrey walking away. Patchy red hair sticks to a ripping scalp, sharp fangs stretch crookedly from a putrid mouth.
 
Ahead of her, Audrey sees two dark figures rise.
 
“Heeelllp!” Starlight outlines the longhaired silhouette.
 
“Get away!”
 
“You’re mine, bitch!” Willie gets close enough for her to see his wretched grin. His sidekick slowly flanks her.
 
She eyes them both, adrenaline behind her eyes. “Oh, no.”
 
“Oh, yes.”
 
She turns to run and slams into a stiff cold body that smothers her to the ground. Audrey fights against the fiend, his smell and his uncompromising lechery. The other Terminite helps pin her down, one on each arm. A thick hand coated in mud sweat paws her stomach, ribs and breasts. She shivers, cries and fights for release. Another hand grabs her neck, forcing submission.
 
Willie grins something ugly as he pulls off his shirt. He slowly crawls onto her as he feels her legs, smells her scent and relishes his catch. She cringes with shut eyes as his calloused tongue licks the inside of her thigh.

Twiggy fingers slither inside her shorts; another heavy hand pulls up her shirt and grabs the exposed breast. Audrey moans weakly. Willie grunts as his body grinds against her.
 
The yellow face grabbing her chest eagerly bites her nipple. Audrey screams. Willie punches him off. “My bitch!”
 
He quickly recovers then lunges at Willie. They roll away fighting, leaving Audrey alone with the strangler who takes over where Willie left off. He gets on her and puts her breast in his mouth. He moves the hand from her throat to roam the rest of her. Audrey wastes no time. She grabs a sharp stick and shoves it through his left eye.

A wrenching roar shatters the night. Audrey grinds the stick inside the wound as pus, blood and sludge pour out. She pushes him onto his back, yanks out the spear then stabs his other eye, ripping apart the limited brain keeping him moving.
 
She jumps to her feet just in time to see Willie bash in the yellow face with a rock. Blood splatters his front.

Beneath a bright sky, locked inside desert night, a moment passes between them. They speak not with words, but posture. Slowly, Willie backs away and fades into the night.
 
A few breaths later Audrey calms down. Not until she lowers her guard does a bright headlight turn on, blinding her.
 
“Get that light off me.” Behind the source a silhouette smokes a cigarette. He throws her a canteen, which she looks at suspiciously.
 
“Drink some water.”
 
She picks it off the ground, opens it, inspects it and when satisfied, drinks. Cecil steps forward. Two leather belts crisscross at his navel holding long barreled revolvers and plenty of ammunition.
 
“You done got lucky, finding me. No food, no water, girls die fast out here.”
 
“I survive.”
 
“You gotta hideout?”
 
“Nah, I ran out of water this morning; been hiking a few weeks now.”
 
“Ain’t much for handouts.”
 
Audrey throws back the canteen. “Just a meal and some water. Then I’ll be on my way.”
 
“Okay then. Get on.”
 
Cecil mounts the bike and fires up the engine. Audrey gets on and they take off.
 
 
Spotlights perching atop the roof like gargoyles create a bubble of light around the cabin. Agena opens the small garage in back. A thin smile slithers across her face.
 
“Clever bitch.”
 
A rugged pickup truck equipped with all terrain tires parks with a wealth of supplies stashed in its bed for a fast getaway.
 
“This day just keeps getting better.”

Cecil removes chunks of cooked rattlesnake off the fire with a large hunting knife and passes some to Audrey who eats without grimace. The remaining uncooked snake lays on a rock between them.
 
“Nice Colts,” Audrey says.
 
“Nice? Those fuckers blow heads off.”
 
“Can I hold one?”
 
Cecil eyes her cautiously. He draws one, unloads it then hands it to her.
 
“You really think a helpless girl like me would shoot you?”
 
“Why not? My ex-wife did.”
 
She inspects the weapon with admiration. She pulls the trigger, testing its ability. “Nice piece, fast action, real fast, oughta serve you good in this hell.”
 
“I survive.”
 
Cecil chops off the snakehead and throws the rest of its body on the coals. Audrey pulls out a bullet and loads the gun.
 
“Not for long if you know what’s good for you.”
 
Cecil eats another chunk of snake. “Ain’t you a bitch?”
 
“Since I’m the one holding the gun, I think that makes you the bitch.”
 
“Pussy like you can’t handle no Colt.” 
 
“This pussy’s an original, God’s newest monster and when she gets excited, motherfuckers die. It’s not your dick she wants, it’s your blood.”
 
Cecil stops eating. “You just better hope you can aim, man.” 
 
“Drop those belts and throw ‘em here.”
 
He takes them off and tosses them to her. Audrey puts the belts over her shoulder, backs up to the bike and gets on. She tries keeping the gun aimed as she kick starts it, but can’t get the leverage needed. She’s forced to use both hands and all her body to start the bike.
 
The engine thunders. Audrey grabs the gun and turns it back on Cecil who stands a few feet away aiming a snub nosed .38 at her. Standoff.
 
Audrey speaks first. “Where the hell’d that come from?”
 
“Alive or not, that pussy’s getting drilled.”
 
“So that’s how it’s going to be? Death before surrender?”
 
Audrey catches his trigger finger twitch. Her vision tunnels. Time slows inside a vacuum. She fires. Before Cecil gets the hammer back he’s dead.

The pickup engine wakes with a loud rumble then rolls forward, its dull yellow eyes barely able to penetrate the night. At a tall iron gate Agena stops and gets out with the shotgun slung over her shoulder. The ax hangs at her side. She walks to the industrial padlock and tries the first key on a chain of many. While trying the second a voice paralyzes her.
 
“Giiinnnaaa!”
 
A freezing blast of air shoots up her spine. She hurries with the lock as the moans crescendo. Finally, the lock opens. She swings open the right gate, which sticks in the drifting sand. After several forceful pushes she hurries to the other side.
 
"You’re my bitch!”
 
Agena sees the disgusting being. He’s close enough to smell. The left gate catches on a rock. Agena restrains her panic the best she can, but as she digs on all fours a clearing for the gate, panic tears through her mind.
 
“Giiinnnaaa!”
 
Agena jumps up when she gets the gate free. She pulls up her shotgun. Willie stops a few yards away. His body sways in the breeze. Agena hesitates. Her finger quivers but never pulls. A long moment later she lowers the weapon.
 
“I’m leaving you, Willie. I’m not yours anymore.”
 
Willie grunts weakly. Agena walks back toward the truck. Something kicks Willie forward. He falls into a massive trap that rises from the ground and locks his body inside its jagged metal jaws.
 
Every time he breathes the teeth tear off another bite. Black blood spills from his mouth and wounds, covering him in his own oil. Agena freezes with shock, surprise and fear.
 
Audrey enters the light gun first. “I believe in life. You have one chance to save yours. Drop the gun.”
 
They stare through each other, between them Willie and his screams. Audrey swiftly swings the gun and fires a bullet that blows shredded brain out the side of his skull.
 
“Bitch!” Agena raises the shotgun fast. Audrey matches her speed. Both guns fire. Both shooters go down.
 
Audrey lands on her back with a cluster of thin holes torn through her jacket. Dusty gunpowder and fresh blood spot her face. She finds her breath, eats the pain then slowly stands.
 
Agena lies against the truck’s tire. Blood pours from the meaty rip in the side of her neck. She watches Audrey pull off her jacket. Underneath she wears Cecil’s armor. Pellet marks scar the iron cross.
 
Agena crawls toward the shotgun. Audrey drops the heavy plate. When Agena reaches the gun, a steel toe boot kicks her in the ribs. Agena soars through the crisp air. She lands in a hard roll, but comes up throwing the ax.
 
The blade flies end over end before lodging in Audrey’s thigh. She falls to a knee with a frustrated cry. She grabs the wooden handle, tries pulling it out, but collapses from the pain.
 
Agena limps over to Audrey, gurgling between wheezes. Audrey lays motionless on her back looking up at the life she saved. The shotgun barrel aimed at her face drips blood.
 
“He wasn’t yours to kill.” Agena furiously coughs blood. Audrey exploits her prey. She kicks Agena off her feet. As Agena thumps against the ground, Audrey yanks the hatchet from her leg. Her lean, domineering arm rises fast then attacks with savage force. A long breath leaves Agena when the hatchet cuts through her lung and heart.
 
“You both were mine to kill.”
 
Fear buries Agena. Tears soak her eyes. A faint trace of sadness softens her words. “You should have let me die.”
 
Audrey wraps her hands around Agena’s neck and squeezes tight. She closes her eyes as Agena struggles for life. By the time body becomes corpse, Audrey is sobbing uncontrollably.