He doesn’t answer, looking away instead at the second bird, tearing off pieces and alternating between passing them to me and taking his own bites. Creed is watching him, clearly determining how much of a threat Jiro would be if he suddenly turned against us, but I don’t get the feeling we’ll have to worry about that. For whatever reason, Jiro has a soft spot for me and I’m going to take full advantage of it. Powerful allies make me powerful, too.

Carefully, we kick sand over the fire, putting it out so we don’t attract any assholes to our location, and then we all settle in for the night on the hard ground. I never realized how much I’d miss my bed until I’m forced to sleep in an indent in the dirt but fuck if I’m not dreaming about that mattress now. It’s not my shift to keep watch, Jiro choosing to go first, so I settle into nightmares of being taken and fighting men mixed with dreams about cheeseburgers and pillows.

I don’t know how long I sleep when something has me opening my eyes. At first, I don’t hear anything, and I wonder if I woke up naturally, but after a few seconds, I hear a soft noise, like something is shuffling weirdly. At first, I think it’s just one of the others moving around, but if it is, they’re moving around isn a strange way. When the sound keeps filtering into my consciousness, forcing me more awake, I realize it’s not the sound of boots at all.

It’s the sound of something scuttling.

It’s dark in the cave with no fire and only the moon outside for light. I frown at the continuing sounds and rub at my eyes as I sit up and look around, trying to find the source. Before I get a chance to panic, imagining all kinds of terrors it could be, my heart nearly shatters from my chest when Creed shoots up from where he’s sleeping beside me with a shout. I clutch at my chest, terrified, before Jiro’s flashlight flicks on and lights up Creed. He standing there with a hand clamped over his butt cheek, a scowl on his face.

“Something bit my ass!” Creed growls, grabbing for the flashlight Jiro holds. The scuttling gets louder as he moves, more frantic. He fumbles with it for a second before the beam switches, blinding me for a second, before he points it toward the floor. It takes me a second to make sense of it as the large. . . creatures. . . run from the light and the big man snarling at them.

“Motherfucker,” Creed growls, looking down at the small wound on his hip as the giant fucking crabs try to get away from the large man they clearly thought was a meal.