Fifty-nine

Welcome to Nottingham,

Our truck passed the huge sign signaling we had entered the human town before the central pack. The sun had already settled behind clouds soon passing over the mountain. So far we had no trouble passing by the couple of humans that asked us questions.

Lucien calmly answered their questions off the bat. It was hard even to tell it had been rehearsed. He stopped at the pump station in town. Parking the truck. Then he came down.

Sinking back into my seat I tried to hide my face from curious passersby. My eyes darted around conscious of everyone and anyone who had a second guess about us.

Very few of them kept weary gazes at our truck. An old man at the fruit stand with a scowl that formed deeply on his face, the woman who held her baby code to her bosom. The butcher hacked the deer meat with his eyes never leaving the direction of our truck. My anxiety rose.