"Max… I'm scared."

I lean over, wrapping my arm around Elly. Even now, more than a year after the evacuation, she never feels safe. And deep down, I know it's my fault. I got her out of the city… but I needed so much help to do it.

First, it took Sam and her sweet cat Frodo just to get me moving. I didn't even know their names until days later, when it was too late to thank her. If not for her, Elly and I would have hid in that fountain until hunger and illness forced us to move on, and by then we'd have been too weak to escape the city.

Later, in the attack in the streets, Elly and I only survived because so many others didn't. In the chaos of thousands dying all around us, all that mattered was not letting Elly see or hear it. I hugged her close, covering her ears, waiting for the end. But the panicking crowds led the monsters away.

Then, it was Henri who found us, cowering in the midst of the dead, and he led us to the boats.

A year later, Elly knows… it wasn't really me who saved her. I was almost as helpless as she was. I needed saving. Her big brother… couldn't protect her. Henri is her hero. Because he's my hero.

Frodo creeps up silently, sensing our distress. With Sam long dead, Frodo has gradually grown to comfort, not just Eric, but the entire town. Elly hugs the cat close, while I stroke his fur. The cat is a little plump, having kept the town clear of mice for over a year. But we haven't let him get fat.

And no one is allowed to rub his belly. He doesn't like it. And since he's too mild and mellow to seriously defend himself, it would be plain cruel.

Although the well-trained therapy cat does bring some immediate comfort, he can't help with my deeper problem. Survivor's guilt will haunt me for the rest of my life. I might not have been a true coward, but I certainly wasn't the hero Elly needed.

The two newest members of our little community haven't met Frodo yet. Emmett and Regan arrived by boat last night, narrowly escaping both Death Angels and murderous humans. I don't think either of them has fully accepted that we're safe on this island. And I understand why. Regan's mom and siblings are still on the mainland.

I look around, taking in the sight of our little town, and people beginning their day. Regan is nearby, letting little Silas fiddle with her hearing aid. But Emmet seems to have wandered off.

That's okay. No matter how they feel, everyone is safe here.

Drawn by a sense of foreboding and dread, Emmet rounded the corner, and looked upon the shore of the island.

The boat he and Regan had brought here… was no longer the only one.

A second boat, listing and bottomed out, was covered in ragged gashes. The sides were torn and ravaged in a way that could only be caused by…

Emmet's mind flashed back to the night before. When the Death Angels slaughtered the despicable clan that tried to take Regan. One of the monsters had escaped drowning… on a boat that had broken loose.

This island was a place of peace and safety. A small town, living civilized, free lives, despite all the horror of the world. This place was precious. The people were precious.

And Emmet had brought a specter of death.

He would not let these people suffer for his mistake.

Knowing what this would mean, but refusing to let that change his mind, he sprinted for the town, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

He ran faster than he ever had in his life. As if his wife and sons were still alive and in that town. He rounded a bend, screaming warnings, and saw distant heads turn. His heart strained to the breaking point, terrified that at any second, death would descend on those innocent, unsuspecting people...

But it did not. At least not yet.

The monster came up from behind Emmet.

He shouted one last warning for everyone to go silent… then the tremendous bladed limb took him in the side.

My hand barely clamps over Elly's mouth in time, but I fail to turn her head away. The Death Angel hacks Emmet in half with a single blow, sending his upper body crashing into a tree. Regan had turned to look in response to everyone else's interest, so she knew to cover Silas' mouth.

If not for Emmet's warning, the sight of the monster surely would have caused someone to forget themselves and scream. As it is, the town manages to remain silent.

More than a year of calm, mournful safety. Now an unkillable monster is here. If there's only the one, we might be able to survive, living far more careful, limited lives, keeping track of its location and never laughing or singing again… but we will never feel safe.

But Henri clearly isn't satisfied with that. While gesturing for others to head inside, he slowly creeps toward the car. At first, I can't believe my eyes. Why would he do something so reckless? Even if he could outrun the monster at first, the island is too small to ever pull very far away from it. The engine would draw the tireless thing until it ran out of fuel. What's the point?

Then, I understand. With this monster trapped on the island, it is only a matter of time before an accident, oversight, or fit of coughing gets someone killed.

Henri is going to remove the monster from the island.

And this time, I won't sit back and let others take all the risk.

I carefully hand off Elly and Frodo to Eric, and gesture for them to go inside.

With one last, loving look at my little sister… I turn and hurry after Henri.

The monster hasn't come any closer. Emmet's heroic warning prevented us from giving away our location. It prowls near the sight of the killing, without even opening up its head to hear more clearly. It seems Emmet acted quickly enough that it doesn't realize anyone else is in the area.

Then a door creaks as it closes.

The monster turns, opening the armored plates of its head, slowly advancing toward the town.

Henri just put his hand on the handle of the car door, but with the creature on high alert, he hesitates.

I pick up an abandoned glass, and hurl it at a nearby tree.

The Death Angel shrieks, hurling itself toward the sound. Henri throws open the car door, leaps inside, and starts the engine. As the monster turns yet again, I open the passenger side door and join Henri.

I can see the surprise in his striking eyes, but he's too pragmatic and decisive to waste time telling me to leave. He guns the engine, ripping up the ground as we speed away. At first, we pace the monster, keeping it about twenty yards ahead. But then Henri deliberately lets off the gas, shedding just enough speed for the monster to leap onto the back of the car.

As metal tears away, I wonder why Henri would make such a mistake… but then I realize where we're going.

We're racing toward the side of the island with a sheer cliff. Henri doesn't intend to take any chances. He wanted the Death Angel to reach us. No matter how dangerous it will be for the two of us, he will ensure the town is safe.

Nodding, I do what little I can.

The monster has clambered fully onto the roof of the car, and if it reaches the engine, Henri's plan will fail. Slim and light, I climb into the back seat, grab a crowbar from the floor, and begin banging on the torn and twisted metal near the rear of the car. To compete with the roaring engine for the monster's attention, I scream a wordless challenge, and when more of the ceiling twists to the side, I strike the creature's back leg. A tank's main gun couldn't have breached that armor, but the beast still knows it has been attacked… and it responds accordingly.

Henri jinks left and right, disorienting the monster just as it turns its attention toward me. The sword-like limb that would have punched down the length of my body instead misses by inches, ripping through the seat.

The cliff is close. We just need a few more seconds. At this point, we'd probably take the monster over the edge even if it killed the driver.

But Henri is the hero our town needs. The hero Elly needs. If there's any chance he can survive the next few moments and get back to the others, it needs to happen.

To ensure the monster doesn't attack the front seat, I bash the crowbar directly into its armored face.

It should have been my last act. Like Emmet, I should have been torn in half.

Instead, Henri deliberately runs over a fallen tree, blowing out the tires and making the car buck upward just as we sail over the cliff. The killing blow merely skims my left shoulder, ripping my shirt, drawing blood, but not bad enough for me to even care.

Not with the car plummeting toward the water.

The impact tears the monster free of the car, along with the remains of the roof. Airbags deploy, I bounce violently off the front seats, and water crashes in from every side.

Everything hurts when I wake. Long habit born of trauma causes me to instinctively remain silent until I gain full awareness, but Henri's hand still covers my mouth as a precaution. It can't have been very long since the crash. It doesn't appear to be noon yet, and my clothes are still damp.

With Henri's help, I sit up in the grass. Water laps at the shore nearby. In the distance, I see the cliff of our island. I have to squint, but there are many figures waving from the top of the cliff. One looks like Elly.

That's nice. Not only are Henri and I both alive, but the others know it. Getting back to the island might be tricky, and take time, but the challenge doesn't seem insurmountable. It would be quite a swim to reach a part of the island that can actually be climbed, but I think I can do it.

At least, once I feel a bit less busted.

Henri leans in very close to my ear and whispers, "Thank you, Max. You're one crazy kid."

I manage to smile.

"Can you swim the distance? And then climb?"

I shake my head. He brings his ear close, and I whisper, "I could use one night to sleep."

He nods, and rises. He helps me to my feet, and I wish I could groan from all the bruises. My gashed shoulder isn't deep enough to be dangerous, but I'll probably need a dose of antibiotics when we get back to the island.

Slowly, carefully, we explore the immediate area for something that could serve as shelter. The weather is… survivable… but sleeping outside will be much less effective at getting me ready to make the swim.

Through a gap in the trees, we see an apartment building that seems intact. That'll do.

But before we've made it even halfway, we hear a twig break.

Henri holds up a clenched fist, but I've already come to a stop.

The Death Angel crosses our path, far enough away that we'll be fine if we're patient.

But something isn't quite right. At first, my eyes suggest the monster must be close to the apartment building, based on its apparent size. But then it passes in front of a tree that is far closer to us.

This creature… is way smaller than any I've seen.

It briefly pauses, stretching to its full height on hind legs. The posture is eerily human… and it's no more than four feet tall.

Henri turns toward me, eyes wide with confusion and wonder. Though these creatures do have a little variability in size, it's never been so extreme. It's so small, it's almost possible to imagine someone could overpower it.

Except, its armor is every bit as solid and complete as the larger specimens, its teeth are as sharp, and the bladed forelimbs could still end a life with one blow.

Dropping back to all fours, the strange little nightmare continues on its endless patrol.

We stand in silent shock for a time, unsure what to make of this development. The smaller Death Angel might be no more than a runt of its species, slightly less dangerous but functionally similar. But… what if it was younger. What if the monsters terrorizing what's left of humanity… are reproducing?

That's a question for another time. I limp after Henri as he quietly approaches the apartment complex. The front door is smashed in, but there's no sign of a fire or structural failure.

On reaching the entrance, we see this might be riskier than we first thought. There are no rooms right at ground level. Rather, we must choose between stairs going down to the basement or up to a higher level. The smell of mold suggests the lower level has flooded at least once, so we slowly, carefully climb the short staircase to the next level. Henri patiently tests each step to ensure they don't creak, and I follow close behind.

When we reach the top of the stairs, we see a long, shadowy hallway. Many of the doors on either side are open, and sunlight trickles in. A large amount of broken glass must be carefully navigated, but we manage.

Only when we are past the glass do I think to wonder how it got there. There is no sign of windows or framed pictures in the corridor. It's like the broken glass was scattered here deliberately.

To sound the warning if a small Death Angel quietly reached the top of the stairs…

Before I can get Henri's attention, he passes an open door… and a scream comes from inside the room.

This building is inhabited. And by sneaking past the broken glass, we took these people by surprise.

Henri has whirled toward the sound, holding a finger to his mouth. The child has already fallen silent, but it might be too late.

I creep back toward the top of the stairs, avoiding the glass, with Henri right behind me.

The undersized Death Angel enters the foyer.

The armor plates covering its head are spread wide, and the creature listens intently.

If it comes up here, patiently searching the building, there's no way the inhabitants will survive.

Without intending any harm, we have brought death to these people.

Unless…

This specimen is small. Far lighter and certainly far weaker than the rest of its kind. If I can get it outside, then once it's done with me, it likely won't reenter the building. It will believe that I was the source of the scream.

Terror grips my heart. My whole body feels deadly cold. But if I hesitate…

The creature takes a step toward the stairway.

I move.

Leaping down the short staircase, I crash into the small monster, and together we tumble out the door. I landed fully upon it, and it's frightened and confused by my sudden attack. Knowing that to run is to die, I grapple with the armored nightmare. A full-sized Death Angel would have effortlessly thrown me off its back and killed me in seconds. It wouldn't have even been knocked outside in the first place. But this undersized thing gives me hope.

Fueled by the adrenaline of mortal terror, I manage to pin the thing's arms. It thrashes its legs, but then Henri arrives. Together, we manage to subdue the monster, simultaneously horrified and elated.

But the triumph is temporary.

We have the thing immobilized, as it lacks the strength to overpower both of us together. But we cannot possibly kill it. Its armor is every bit as solid and complete as the larger members of its species. And it is likely as tireless as they are. Sooner or later, we will be too weary to keep it restrained… and we'll both die.

It occurs to me that we should already be dead. Even with this beast's smaller size, it should have called out for other Death Angels to come to its aid. Why would it not? Does it want to kill us all on its own?

Henri looks into my eyes, unable to hide his hopelessness. We may have spared the people in the apartment building, but there's no way we can survive.

At least… there's no way we can both survive.

I see his expression change. He's come to the same realization as me.

Knowing that we must not draw the attention of any other Death Angels, he leans over our pinned enemy and whispers directly into my ear. "Go. Sneak away. I can hold it here long enough for you to escape."

It's happening again. A better, braver person is going to save me. Someone more worthy, an actual hero, is going to die.

No. Not this time.

I answer in a whisper. "I won't make it. My right leg broke when I jumped down the stairs. I can't escape anyway. And there's no way I could swim to the island and climb the cliff."

With the monster struggling, and my whisper hoarse, I can only hope Henri doesn't detect the lie in my voice.

He remains silent for a time, as together we keep the small, silent abomination from moving.

"Max…" he finally whispers. "You're still a boy. I can't–"

"Yes, you can. I can't survive. You can. Tell those people about the island."

The creature's struggles cease. It lays there passively, listening.

Henri clenches his eyes shut, spilling tears onto the monster.

"Henri… you're strong. You're a leader. You need to live. The island needs you. Everyone does."

He opens his eyes, and meets mine with a look of such grief and regret… I know I'm getting through to him.

"It's alright, Henri. I won't suffer. You know how quickly these things kill."

"Your sister… your sister!"

I frown, and he goes silent. His whisper had started to get too loud.

"You have family too. And Elly… she doesn't look up to me, Henri. She looks up to you. You're her hero. She'll be ok."

Henri clenches his jaw so hard it clearly hurts. Another wave of tears flow, but at last he nods. Though the monster has stopped struggling, we take no chances. We carefully reposition until I alone have the monster pinned. My arms and legs are wrapped around the creature, and I wince in fabricated pain, maintaining the fiction that my leg is broken.

"I'll remember you, Max. And I'll take care of… everyone."

Rising, Henri swiftly and softly creeps away. He moves around the side of the apartment building, out of sight. After I'm dead, and the creature moves on, he will mobilize the people inside. More survivors will find the island. More frightened, desperate people will find peace and safety.

Elly… will make more friends. And Frodo can bring them all comfort.

My thoughts and reflections shatter… when the monster beneath me…

…speaks.

"Others…"

My blood runs cold.

"Others… Island… Elly…"

The whispered, rasping, inhuman voice is somehow more horrible than the screams of the dying that haunt my dreams.

"You… Max… You… answer me… Where… others? Where… sister?"

So horrified, so stunned, so disbelieving… I let my grip loosen.

It moves. In a burst of speed that takes me utterly by surprise, it twists free of my bind, spins around, and kicks me away.

I land on my back, and an instant later the thing pounces, pinning me in place as I pinned it mere moments ago. One bladed arm stabs through my right shoulder, and it takes every ounce of my willpower not to scream. This one Death angel, with the intelligence to understand and speak English, is already a deadly danger to Henri and the other people hiding nearby. If any other monsters are drawn here, there will be no hope.

"Answer… me…" it hisses, its nightmarish teeth inches from my face. "Where… others? If you tell… you die swiftly… If you… not tell…" The blade twists. I feel tendons and ligaments snap, and blood pulses forth. Only by keeping an image of Elly at the forefront of my mind do I remain silent.

Frustrated, the monster shifts positions, leans to the side… and bites off my left hand.

A long, low breathy excellation escapes me, hopefully quiet enough not to carry far, but total silence has become impossible.

"Speak," it hisses, letting my mangled hand drop to the ground. "Where others? Where?"

I know I can't last like this. Even if I can stop myself from telling it what it wants to know, I'm guaranteed to start screaming inside a minute. I expected to die… but to save the others nearby. Not to draw even greater danger to them.

I can't hold out. I'm going to break…

The horrid thing brings its other clawed arm forward, and it slowly, sadistically begins to carve a long, jagged wound across my chest…

When the monstrous claw is directly above my heart…

…I seize the beast with my arms and legs, and jerk it close.

The claw pierces my heart and the ground beneath me.

There. Now I won't have to resist torture for minutes or even hours.

I only have to last a few seconds.

Even I can stay brave for a few seconds, no matter how bad things get.

In a fit of rage, furious that it will never get answers, the monster pulls away from my limp grip and begins to savage me.

But it doesn't matter, blood has stopped flowing to my head, and the world is going dark. I can keep my silence. This monster won't learn a thing.

Once again, silence is the answer.

The true hero, Henri, will get the others to the island. The whole town will help Elly cope.

For once, I didn't need saving. I managed to save someone else.

Author's Note:

This vivid dream had an unusual format that would have been very odd to directly reflect in the story. Initially, I was actually Emmet, at the moment when he found the boat. When screaming the warning got me killed, the dream didn't end. Instead, I body-hopped into someone else in time to see Emmet die, and then the dream continued. Unlike some older dreams in which I died in agony, this one didn't actually involve pain. It was implied pain, imagined pain, and the situation was vivid enough that I knew I needed a quick death if possible. But at least the dream didn't actually simulate the sensation of getting sliced up slowly by a monster that wanted answers.

Like the dream I entitled "The Warrior Has Been Killed," my subconscious tried to balance the scales. When a character died that originally should have lived, the dream worked overtime to ensure that the death was worth it.

Though Emmet, and later young Max, both died, many townsfolk survived, most importantly Henri. When I was younger, my deaths in dreams were sometimes meaningless. More recent dreams tend to make such endings worthwhile.

This isn't the first dream where my perspective shifted at the moment of death. In a far more grim and brutal dream that I may or may not write someday, I died many times. Like, so many times. A more complex and brutal version of "Edge of Tomorrow," the dream kept resetting, but not every time I died. It only reset when all the characters died. I was a random employee at an isolated research center when terrorists attacked. When my current character died, I would instantly become one of the other survivors, until the last scientist was murdered and the scenario reset. The worst moment was when I and many others hid in a deep, narrow closet. The terrorists found us and shot me, and I inhabited the next person in the closet. They shot the new me, I became the next person, they shot me again, and so on, over and over until everyone in the closet was dead and the dream started over. Seriously messed up. And since the story never resolved (with us only ever managing to get the terrorists willing to briefly negotiate) I'm not sure if I'll write it. If anyone expresses interest, I might go ahead and finally write out that old, grim dream. But I'll likely need to invent a resolution.