There were no owls there in the middle of town, but the feeling of owls was not dependent on that. My heartbeat grew and echoed from the houses I passed. A man walking his dog fit right in, the dog loved everyone and wanted to run with me but no. I smelled a rat under a bush and hummed The White Stripes for a while. Birds sleeping. The oboe sound of smoke. But now there was a disturbance (in the force, ha ha), a smell of something chemical and poisonous, the sound of bright blue panic. A girl was being pushed towards some bushes by two big men. I had no phone, there was no way of calling for help. I had imagined situations like this, asked myself what I would do. The answer had been obvious. I didn’t see myself as the knight in shining armor, but I could see me sacrificing a knight to save the queen. I had done that many times. I had my strategy worked out. ‘Excuse me…’ ‘Fuck off!’ I had hoped that they would just release her and move on. They did not. On to step two. ‘HELP! HELP!. He put his steel toed boots back on, drank the last beer, checked his pistol and came for her. He unhooked the leash, then undid one end of the heavy chain. He lifted her up by it, then held it low, keeping her off balance. He leaned the shotgun against the door frame, and opened the door.He picked up the shotgun and started down the porch stairs. Bent over like she was it was a moment before she noticed he'd pulled the car all the way in, and left the door open. A snarl came from the right, and two zombies came around the corner. He screamed and shoved her down the stairs, straight into their arms. She lowered her head and kept moving, ramming her head into one of their chests. Its cold hands grabbed at her but she was moving too fast. It fell over and she barely avoided stepping on it as she hurtled past.The shotgun boomed and he cursed in rapid Spanish. It boomed again as she hit the brick wall with her shoulder and spun around. The one she'd hit was back up, headed towards the.
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