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Were the diagrams filled with four-eyed people-shaped aliens? Yes. Were wordless picture-based instructions universal? Also yes.
Lenore eyed a tree, judging the bark to be thick enough. She glanced up, on the lookout for tree snakes. The fuckers were a deep green and blended into the shadows. Only their amber eyes gave them away.
All four eyes.
So that was a cute little quirk. Critters and the environment were remarkably similar to Earth but with four eyes. Grazing animals had four legs. There were smaller fluffy things that looked like bunnies, but she hadn’t managed to see one up close. Four cute little bunny eyes. There was something that liked to sniff around the cabin at night that sounded like it had a lot of teeth. One evening, Lenore caught a glimpse of something skulking in the tree line. It moved low to the ground and radiated menace. It had four eyes, all full of woe and despair.
She did her best to cover up the busted windows the next day, but she suspected that the barricades wouldn’t keep anything out that wanted to get in.
If she didn’t freeze to death, she’d wind up as alien kitty kibble. Hooray. For now, at least, the animal that skulked about in the night was content to watch and wait.
Stop being a sourpuss and focus on the shoes.
Lenore rammed the knife into the tree bark and pushed down, cutting a piece large enough to cover her foot. The air grew warm, and sweat collected in the small of her back. She unfastened the jumpsuit, letting the top hang down, and tied the arms around her hips. Total fashion plate in her worn old tank top.
Cooler now, she repeated the cutting process in a different patch of bark.
A twig snapped.
Lenore paused, still gripping the knife. The air went still. Unease pricked along the back of her neck. It had to be her little friend.
“I know you’re there,” she said, speaking to the animal that had been skulking around the cabin. “Thanks for not eating me during the night. Maybe also consider not eating me now? Thanks.”
A breeze stirred, drying her sweaty skin.
Something large moved in the undergrowth. Lenore turned, trying to pinpoint the origin.
There. The shadows weren’t right.
A creature emerged, crouched low to the ground. It was a mountain cat or a panther but also not. The neck was too long. Leathery black skin blended perfectly with the shadows in the forest. Green scales covered the throat and chest, presumably running down to protect the creature’s belly.
“Hey. Hey there,” Lenore said, holding out the knife like it would do any damn good. “You’re probably more afraid of me than I am of you, right?”
Its ears flicked forward.
It didn’t move like it was afraid.
Well, shit.
Lenore froze, completely unsure what to do. Conflicting urges ran through her. Make a lot of noise and try to appear scary. Run. Also, don’t run because things with lots of teeth and claws like to chase. Cower down and make herself small, but maybe don’t just roll over and offer herself up on a plate?
It didn’t matter. The result was that Lenore stood rooted in place, too afraid to shout, run, or cower.
The shadows darkened, like the sun went behind the clouds, or maybe she was about to faint. She hoped so. Lenore in no way wanted to be conscious when the creature attacked.
Growling came from behind her.
Awesome. They hunted in packs like that dinosaur movie. She was dead. Absolutely dead, and it was Brad’s fault because he was a petty bitch who had to rub his cute puppies and their rude-ass names in her face. She should have grabbed him when she went through the portal. Spending three months with him would have been terrible, but she could outrun him and let the pack of lizard-cat murder machines eat him.
The lizard-cat hissed and growled a warning, belly hugging the ground. The noise behind her was not comforting. Lenore got the impression that rather than work together, they were about to fight over who got dibs on her corpse.
Faster than she could process, a large shadowy creature burst from the undergrowth, knocking her down. Claws dug into her shoulder as it launched itself toward the lizard-cat. Now that she saw it, it was the size of a small pony and all wolf, if a wolf were made of darkness. They tumbled in an angry heap of yowls and claws.
The fall knocked off her sorry excuse for shoes and made her drop the knife. She eyed both, knowing she’d only be able to grab one.
Lenore grabbed the knife from where it’d fallen and scrambled to her bare feet.
She turned to run, not wanting to stick around for the outcome of the fight, and saw her first human face in months. She stumbled, partially from surprise but mainly from a sharp pain in the sole of her foot, and fell to the ground.
