Who’s that standing at the end of the street, he wondered from his windowsill. A vague shape, maybe frizzled hair, uncertain of gender, and age.
He must be crazy, the man thought bewildered, there’s danger looming everywhere.
For many weeks he’s sitting there now, observing birds and even deer, while humans have been locked indoors, in fear of mutant dinosaurs.
They came about when science got cocky, and as with most lightly taken strides, those crazy scientists stumbled over a pebble and broke their behinds.
At least, for now, there aren’t many, but their reproduction is uncanny. As bullets bounce straight of their skin, the only kill is blade to chin. To get in close is not that simple, we need a hero, now, God damn it!
The shape outside, now moving closer, reveals two blades across the back. She’s close enough, and could she be, the hero humans wished to see?
“It’s dangerous, don’t be a fool,” in a warning voice he spoke to her.
“I have no fear, and strive for salvation, as I am the huntress of the Isolation Nation.”
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