**Now with Open Dyslexic version!**

Strained knuckles ached as my grip tightened on the steering wheel. I was hunched so far forward that my head could have gone through the windshield. I’d already busted my butt all day for that ungrateful geezer and now he had me running out in the pitch dark because he forgot a “very important ingredient”.

Milk.

It was milk.

For his coffee.

HIS coffee. Not for our customers. No. That was different. His milk was special. Sourced directly from the dairy farm. Never touched a grocer’s shelf. I mean, so was all our milk. “Locally sourced” and “small business supporting” was the Diner’s claim to fame, but his milk was “small batch” and “hand crafted”. Which meant it came from the same cows on the same farm as the rest of the plebeian milk, but got processed in a slightly smaller batches, slapped with a fancy label, and sold only locally at the source. I never knew my old man to be the type to fall for that kinda thing, but he swore up and down that this was somehow different.

I knew he just used it to ruin my evening.

So there I was, raging behind the wheel of my mother’s old blue pickup truck, speeding down an empty desert road, milk poorly secured on the seat beside me, when I drove right into something big crossing the road. My seatbelt barely kept me from careening through the windshield. I winced as the sound of bending metal scraped through my ears and the truck came to an unceremonious halt. Only after the damage was done did I slam my foot on the brakes. I sat there silently trying to process whatever happened. In all my years driving this road, I’d never hit anything, much less anything that could total the truck.

“Of course.” I muttered to myself as the rage became exhaustion and self loathing.

I couldn’t help the tears welling in my eyes as the friction burn from the seatbelt was already stinging the side of my neck.

I put the truck in park and looked out the windshield, trying to identify what exactly had made my terrible evening even worse. In the flickering of my headlights, I didn’t see anything on the road, but as I lifted my gaze, I saw it there. Two round orbs floating in the darkness seemed to inch closer every time my lights went out. It was watching me, or whatever I’d hit.

There were plenty of predators in the desert, and it was probably just brazen enough to wait for me to leave my accidental kill to its mercy.

That’s exactly what it was.

That’s exactly what it had to be.

Instead of daring to run over whatever I’d hit, I put the truck in reverse to go around it. The second the engine clunked, a hand flew into the air and came down hard on the crumpled hood. Deathly pale and flecked with blood, it dug into the metal, lifting something from the ground. A man. A man who looked so pale that he had to already be dead. He looked me directly in the eyes. His were a sea of black with an agitated violet cross skittering across their surface. They were glowing. Not bright, but enough to notice. Blood flowed freely down his chin. Violet blood? My heart lodged in my throat as he reached out to me. Massive, thick arms capped by a purple sleeve rolled up to his biceps. A button up beneath a deep purple vest. He was gasping, or trying to speak. I couldn’t tell. He looked at me. Pitifully.

Just past him, I caught something slipping back into the dark from my headlights.

The man collapsed on my hood. I could barely make out his body rising and falling with a haggard breath. Light shimmered from his back, revealing a limp pile of tentacles draping over him like the fronds of a wilted fern.

Looking back up, I caught the yellow orbs bobbing and weaving in the dark. They wanted whatever he was.

I looked back at him.

Time froze as I weighed my options.

Pops would put it in reverse and leave him to fall to the ground. It was his own fault he got hit and whatever he was, it was best not to get involved with it.

Ma, though?

I caught myself idly holding her crystalline cross that had hung around my neck since forever.

I was a child again, carrying a little pet carrier toward the massive willow that stood at the head of Ma’s flower garden. Moonlit night shimmered across the leaves dancing in the sea breeze. We’d reached our destination, but still I clung to the carrier.

“She’s better now, Sunshine. It’s time to let her go home.”

“B-but…” I sniffed, “I don’t wanna…”

A small chirp came from within the carrier.

“You saved her life, Sunshine, she knows that, but she’s a wild animal. We can’t keep her against her will.”

“But-”

Another few chirps.

I took a deep breath and turned to the moon. Closing my eyes, I opened the carrier door. For a moment, nothing happened and I hoped she’d stay, but soon enough a little brown bat came fluttering out, chirping her way toward the moonlight.

“Do you think she’ll remember me?” My lip quivered.

“Of course she will, Sunshine.” Ma knelt down beside me and held me tightly as tears welled in my eyes. “You’re such a kind soul, Jeron. Don’t let anyone ever take that from you.”

There never really was a choice.

“Yeah, Ma.” I breathed as I put the truck in park, undid my seatbelt, and slid out of the cabin.

Horrific shrieks filled the air as I dragged the body off the truck. He looked heavy enough, but was far lighter than I expected as I dragged him alongside the vehicle. The interior lights must have been enough to keep them away, but I could still hear them scraping around in the dark behind me.

This guy was massive and a pain to shove into the cabin with all his tentacles getting in the way. Once I got him inside, I got back in the driver’s seat and prayed the poor old truck could still get me home. I looked out my window to the silvery moon hanging low in the sky. Even with its brilliant light those things remained shrouded in darkness. I closed my eyes and sent a silent prayer to Sion’Dri.

I put it into drive and took a deep breath before applying the gas. The engine roared to life.

“Thanks, Ma.” I patted the dash.

As I sped down the road, yellow droplets splattered across the hood of the truck. I didn’t stop, but I glanced up into the rear-view mirror. Countless round yellow lights had gathered in the dark behind me. They stared, unblinking, as I drove away.

My gaze drifted down in the mirror until I saw him lying on the back bench. Violet blood trickling from his lips and over vintage blue leather. His face unceremoniously mushed against the seat, still breathing, but weakly.

I felt my shoes getting soggy. Blood? I looked down to find my father’s milk spilled all over the floor.

“Of course.”

Open Dyslexic version!