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hands using leaves from the bushes by the road. The man wiped his own much cleaner face and hands, then gathered a fresh bunch of leaves in his hand and approached the dog, reaching out to wipe off its chest. The dog growled when he approached, and he quickly backed off.
    “Not a very friendly dog you’ve got there.”
    She understood the dog’s clear message. “It does not like to be touched.”
    “I’ll say,” responded the man. He approached her with the leaves instead, saying “Here, you’ve got it all the way up your shoulders.”
    But she stiffened, taking a half-step back and looking to the ground, arms bent and tense at her side and fists clenched.
    “She does not like to be touched,” she said.
    The man didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, I heard you. Definitely not a friendly dog. Useful, though, I’ll give her that.” As he finished his sentence he touched her shoulder with the leaves, wiping them down her arm. Her other hand shot out, palm forward, slamming him in the chest and knocking the smaller man to the ground.
    She took two steps forward, standing over the man and shouting.
    “She does not like to be touched!”
    He put his hands up in surrender, cringing from her anger. “Hey, hey, man. What did I do? OK, OK. No touching! No touching anyone! Not dog or girl. I get it, man.”
    She stood over him for a moment more, glaring. Suddenly his eyes went wide.
    “Oh, you mean you, right? She is you? OK, OK. You don’t like to be touched.” He scooted back a bit more, standing up and brushing off his pants. He kept talking as she watched him, gradually calming.
    “Doesn’t like to be touched, eh? Well, I guess everyone has their differences, right? Hey, you could say you were touchy about being touched, right? Get it?”
    He smiled, looking at her, as if he expected something.
    Feeling more relaxed now, she turned away, stepping over the piled bodies of the crab-things and continuing the course she had been on before meeting this man. It was darker now—time to find a place for the night. She had spent several nights up in trees, but she doubted that would safe be if more of those crab-things were in the forest. They looked as if they could climb.
    Unconsciously, the chattering man echoed her thoughts.
    “Getting dark now,” he said. “Shit, am I tired. Been running from those things since the middle of last night. They ain’t fast, but they just kept coming. I tried crossing rivers, hiding in holes, even climbing trees to lose them, but no dice. I even tried running way ahead and turning a different direction, but no. About an hour later, there they are, catching up. Jeez, I could sure use some sleep.
    “Somewhere good, though,” he continued. “Somewhere safe. Gotta have a wall I can put between me and any more of them things. Whaddya think, find a building or something?”
    She didn’t respond. She had no real interest in him or his story. She simply continued on, but it didn’t discourage him. He kept talking as they wound their way down the road. He was following her now.
    After a few more minutes of listening to him she stopped again, facing the man. He stopped his chatter, looking at her warily.
    “What are you doing?” she asked.
    “Er, walking? Just walking along. I’m coming with you.”
    She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You are coming with her?”
    “You bet I am.”
    “Why?”
    “You kidding me? Look what this world has turned into, girl. And look at me. I can run, yeah, I can run past anyone. I thought that would be enough, being fast, being quick. It has been so far. But then the crab-things found me, and it weren’t enough anymore. They had me, man. I was about done when I found you.”
    He stopped, looking like he hoped this would explain things. She continued to stare at him.
    “Let’s face it girl, just being quick wasn’t enough for me. But you’ve got something else. Something I need. You’re vicious. I saw you back there, tearing into those things.