Definition: KUDZU: Pronounced "Cud-zoo". Noun. Japanese leguminous vine introduced to the United States in 1876 for use in forage and erosion control. Tap roots can extend six feet beneath the ground. Root crowns can grow 30 or more vines each. Vines reach 70 feet in length and can grow over one foot per day. Is considered a serious devastating weed in the southeast United States.

Arjay Kerrigan stood in the parking lot that was once the home to her favorite I-Hop and gazed down the highway with sad blue eyes at the smoldering and still burning landscape of Canfield, North Carolina. Ignoring the dried blood, and grime on her hands and arms, she brushed her black hair back from her sweaty forehead.

"Do you think it’ll ever be over? Will our town ever be the same again?" asked the much shorter but equally disheveled blonde at her side. Arjay kept her eyes fixed on the billowing acrid smoke and silently grasped the woman’s small hand in her much larger one. Would anything ever be the same again.

August in Canfield, North Carolina could be as dry as the Savanna and hotter than Hades. Or it could be as hot and wet as the Amazon jungle. Every year was a coin toss, and this was a rainforest month when it seemed every day had at least one downpour. Often it came and went so quickly that steam would rise from the hot roadways.

Mary Burly awoke to the sound of her rottweiller barking fiercely in the back yard. "Damn dog!" she grumbled as she tossed back the thin sheet and eased herself stiffly out of bed. She was white-haired and wrinkled at 80, but she was a feisty old woman who would rather live alone on a quiet road than die in some fancy nursing home. She had Vance to let her know when something was wrong. She just wished what ever it was could have waited till daylight. "Damn dog!" she repeated.

She grabbed her pink chenille robe from the chair by the bed and slipped her arms into the sleeves as she padded barefoot out of the bedroom, through the tiny living room, and opened the front door.

Vance was still growling as she stepped out onto the screened-in front porch. Suddenly the growl went to a fierce bark and then---silence. Mary flipped on the outside light, but saw nothing except the overgrown grass and weeds in her yard. Whatever it was,Vance had taken care of it like always. She turned off the light and went back inside.

Had her eyesight been clearer and her hearing better, Mary Burly would have heard a swishing sound and seen Vance’s body disappear into the vine covered woods.

Arjay Kerrigan sat behind her old brown metal desk in the back room of the Canfield Sheriffs Department and sipped her morning cup of I-Hop coffee. At six foot tall and wide shouldered, she looked daunting in her pressed gray uniform. If it wasn’t for the patch on the sleeve of her shirt, she would have easily passed for a law enforcement officer.

The telephone interrupted the quiet she enjoyed, but she answered it quickly and politely. "Animal Control. How can I help you?" A grumpy male voice on the other end of the phone complained about a flock of doves pooping all over his driveway. Arjay took down the information on a yellow legal pad and promised to stop by on her rounds. She thanked him for calling and returned the cordless phone to its cradle.

She sighed as she finished noting the time on the message. Such was life in Canfield. "You wanted a quiet, easy life," the little voice in her head reminded her. She leaned back in her swivel office chair and tightened the band holding her long black ponytail in place. "A quiet, easy life," she repeated aloud.

In the six weeks since she had assumed her duties as Canfield’s dog catcher, she had found four missing dogs and three cats. She had rescued a cat out of a tree, and removed a dead dog, a squashed rabbit and one very odoriferous dead skunk from the roads. At least she learned tomato juice was good for more than making a Bloody Mary.

She was finishing her coffee when she heard footsteps and looked up to see Sheriff Joe Griggs in the doorway. At 58, he was what many would think of as the typical southern Sheriff: short, stocky, balding, with a growing pot belly edging over his belt. But despite his looks, he was a smart, no nonsense man who served as a Marine MP for twenty years before returning to serve in his hometown as Sheriff. He had held this job now for fifteen years.

"Hey, Kerrigan," he said in a growly drawl, "Just got a call that’s more up your alley."

"As in cat?" she asked, trying to make a joke. When she was met with a blank stare, she explained, "Alley cat."

Griggs snorted. "Oh yeah. Cute. No. It’s a dog." He tossed a piece of paper on her desk. "Found dead in the woods. Miss Burly is hysterical. Says he was murdered."

Arjay looked at the name and address on the paper. It meant nothing to her. "Okay," she nodded. "I’ll check it out on my rounds."

"I want you out there now!" he said firmly. "We don’t sit on our ass and drink coffee all day down here." Arjay stood up, her tall athletic frame towering over her boss. It wasn’t even 9:00 am yet. She opened her mouth to argue that she was hired to work from 9-5 and that she had already put in many hours beyond quitting time without receiving any overtime pay added to her small salary, but Griggs spoke first. "I want you to take Barnes with you."

Her left eyebrow raised. "What? Why? It’s a dead dog, not the woman’s husband." She worked alone and did not want or need company.

The Sheriff ignored her and bellowed, "CHRIS!" out into the hallway.

"I work alone," Arjay said strapping on her nylon utility belt which held a can of mace, and a foot long stag handled bowie knife in a tooled leather sheath.

Griggs snorted and propped his meaty hands on his waist. "You don’t even know the main roads yet, and this ain’t one. BARNES!"

"Here, Boss," a cheerful voice replied from the doorway.

Kerrigan glared coldly at the short green-eyed blonde in the pressed grey uniform. "I don’t need this!" she thought. In the six weeks she had been here she had barely spoken to anyone, but she often heard the blonde Deputy laughing and talking in the main office. She was a perky chatterbox.

"Hi," she said, smiling at Arjay. Except for their introduction when Kerrigan was hired, this was the only other time she had stood in front of her. "Dang, she’s tall!" she thought, looking up into her cold blue eyes.

"Take Kerrigan out to Mary Burly’s place. Make sure Mary is alright while you’re there."

"Will do," she said nodding.

Arjay knew there was no way of getting out of this. She fished the keys to her Jeep Wrangler out of her pants pocket and tossed them to the deputy, who surprised her by catching them in mid air. "We take my wheels," she grumbled, pushing past both of them.

"What’s her problem?" Griggs asked, scratching his head.

Chris patted his arm. "Give her time, Uncle Joe."

"You be careful ‘round that one," he said as she left the office. He had taken a chance hiring that Yankee. He just hoped he hadn’t made a mistake.

The open Jeep Wrangler wound its way through the countryside of Canfield. Despite the roar of the engine, the silence in the cab was deafening. Neither woman had said a word since leaving the Sheriffs Office. Arjay had tossed the address on the dashboard and sat in the passenger seat with her head straight and her eyes forward. Her body language couldn’t hide her annoyance at having to be a passenger in her own car.

Deputy Barnes began to hum loudly. Whatever song it was supposed to be, it irritated Arjay to no end. "Do you have to do that?" she snapped.

Chris stopped humming and glanced over at her passenger. "Well, it’s too quiet in here for me. Your radio’s broke. Don’t you ever talk?"

"Only when I have something to say," she replied flatly.

"You know you haven’t said two words to me since you got this job."

"Deputy Barnes…"

"The name is Chris. And I know you’re Arjay. That sure is an unusual name. Don’t think I ever heard that name before.",

Arjay turned her head and looked coldly at the woman in uniform. "Look, I don’t want to chit-chat, okay?"

The short haired blonde frowned. "You got something against women, or cops, or women cops, or is it just me? Or is it my accent and you don’t understand me?"

"I understand you just fine."

"I kind’ a lost some of it when I went to college in Virginia. But I can still say ‘Di-jeat yet? O-verr, down yon ways’ a piece they gots good grits’. Now that’s bein’ a good southern girl!." She laughed at herself.

Arjay shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Why did this woman have to be here. All she wanted to do was go alone to check out a dead dog and now she felt trapped with a chatterbox with an accent. She had to do something to shut her up. Taping her mouth closed with duct tape was not an option, although playing out the scene in her head made her feel somewhat better. Maybe she could shock her into silence. "Look Deputy…Chris…I’m gay." Arjay smiled. The truth always worked. "That should shut Little Miss Straight Girl up."

Chris just smiled and nodded her head. "I know."

Arjay straightened in the seat. Her eyes were wide in disbelief. "How?"

"Newsflash, Kerrigan---so am I." She grinned. "Doesn’t your Gaydar work south of the Mason-Dixon Line?"

Arjay sank into the seat. "This can’t be for real," she thought. "You’re gay? Does the Sheriff know?"

"I’m not so sure he knows about you. Nobody knows much of anything about you. Except for what was on your application."

"I like it that way!" she snapped. "Does he know about you?"

Chris smiled, keeping her eyes on the road. "Well, Uncle Joe raised me since I was eight…"

"Joe Griggs is your Uncle?" Arjay rubbed her eyes. This day wasn’t happening. Now her boss would know she was gay. Worse yet, she was working with a lesbian. She had come down here to escape all that. "I’m home, asleep, and this is all a weird dream!"

"It isn’t like it’s a secret. I think most people in Canfield know I bat for the other team. Can’t say I haven’t had my share of discrimination, but I’ve been accepted for the most part. The badge helps. And bein’ able to do a good job for people."

"I don’t want to hear the story of your life!"

"See, that’s the trouble. You haven’t wanted to get to know any of us. We’re good people, Arjay."

Silence fell over them again. Chris thought about singing, but she had pushed her luck with the humming. She wanted to keep Arjay talking. She didn’t have any romantic interest in Kerrigan, even though she was darkly beautiful with her raven black hair and icy blue eyes. She seemed so alone. Lost. Definitely out of place in Canfield. "I sure do think she could use a friend," Chris thought.

"Soooo…," Chris said cheerfully, "What’s your ‘she done her wrong’ story? Mine? Well…" She paused just long enough to turn the jeep onto a dirt road. "I came home early one day to find my girlfriend in bed with my brother. Hey, it all worked out, I guess. They got married. Live over in the next county and I’m ‘Aunty Chris’ to their two beautiful kids." She laughed. "I got two other brothers, so I got scared it’d happen again even though they got married years ago and moved out of North Carolina. I still look, and I’m no hermit, but I’ll never get involved again. I thought she was really the one at the time. Guess I’ve got major trust issues."

Arjay glanced over at Chris’s profile. Her eyes didn’t leave the road, but her mouth twitched slightly. There was a sadness and a hardness behind the bluster that Arjay knew all too well. Some hurts just never go away.

"So tall, dark, and lesbian," Chris said in feigned cheerfulness, "What’s your story?"

Arjay swallowed hard and went back to staring out the windshield. "We saw a robbery in progress. Called for backup. Nobody came." Her fists clenched. "I was on the floor with my guts hanging out of a hole in my stomach. Before I passed out, I got to watch one of the guys force my partner of ten years to her knees, and blow off her head with a 357 magnum."

Not another word was spoken during the rest of the drive to Mary Burly’s house.

Mary Burly toddled out the porch door as the two uniformed women climbed out of the jeep. "Took y’all long enough!" she hollered, shielding her eyes from the sun with a withered hand.

"Where’s the animal?" Arjay just wanted to get the dead dog and leave.

"Ain’t no animal!" Mary snapped. "It’s my Vance, and I tell you he’s been murdered!"

Chris held up her hands. "Try to calm down, Miss Mary. We understand you’re upset."

"Upset ain’t the word for it!" She pointed a skinny finger toward the back of the house. "My boy is dead and somebody did it!" She looked up at Arjay. "Who are you? You ain’t no po-leece."

Arjay suppressed a smile. The old lady was irritating, but she sure was a feisty old broad. "Animal Control Officer, Ma’am."

Mary waved her hand. "Don’t need you." She latched onto Chris’s arm and pulled. "Come on, Chrissy. I’ll show you."

Chris allowed herself to be led, but gently patted Mary’s hand. "Now Miss Mary, you don’t need to see your poor Vance like that again." They stopped. "You’ve been upset enough. I know it’s hard, but you need to go inside and let us take care of him."

The old woman’s eyes welled up with tears. "You …you won’t hurt him, will ya’ child?"

Chris smiled warmly. "No, Miss Mary. You know me. I promise."

Mary Burly nodded and patted Chris’s hand. Turning slowly, she shuffled back toward the porch. Arjay watched the scene play out and realized she had witnessed something special. Maybe it was just a southern thing or young showing respect for old. Or maybe it was Chris, herself. Her tone had been so calming. Her green eyes showing true concern and empathy with the old woman’s loss. She was a kind and caring person. A lot like…

Arjay stiffened. She didn’t like where her thoughts were taking her. "Never again," she muttered aloud.

"Never again what?" Chris asked as she began walking to the rear of the house.

Arjay thought fast. "Never again am I wearing a long sleeve shirt in the boonies. Must be 100 degrees out here!"

"You get used to it. Or wear the short sleeve one. Didn’t Uncle Joe get a couple in the right size for you?"

"Yeah. But then my arms get all bug bit."

Chris chuckled. "Welcome to the South, Kerrigan."

The back yard was small and the woods seemed to be encroaching on the overgrown grass. They searched the perimeter, and Arjay found the place where the weeds were flattened as it something had been dragged. "Over here," she said as she began to follow the trail into the woods. The ground was covered in weeds and vines. The vines were a deep green and had lots of large leaves. Some of the newer leaves were still curled up as if waiting to unfurl at any moment. The vines covered the trunks of the trees and hung in the air from the branches. "What the hell is this stuff?" Arjay grumbled. "I see it everywhere down here. It’s even on bridges and light poles. Grows right up to the edge of the roads."

Chris replied, "It’s kudzu."

Arjay’s eyebrows drew into a deep furrow as if she hadn’t heard correctly. "You’re kidding right?"

"That’s its real name. Think of it as North Carolina’s state weed." Chris pushed several long, thick vines out of her way. "Grows a foot a day, ‘specially during the rainy months. Strangles out the plants and trees…WHOA!" She hadn’t realized Arjay had stopped suddenly and she bumped into her back. "What is it?" She peered around Arjay’s body and looked at the ground. The body of a dog lay almost completely hidden beneath vines.

"Does it strangle anything else?" Arjay asked quietly.

Chris leaned over the dead animal. "It’s just overgrowth."

"In one night?" Arjay crouched beside the dog.

"Well, he crawled under it to die," Chris said, motioning with her hands.

That would explain the flattened grass and weeds leading to where he lay. "Guess so." Arjay stood up and reached down to grab the hind legs of the dog.

Chris jumped back. "Geeze! What are you doing?

Arjay smiled. Chris was kind of cute. There she was all decked out in her pressed uniform and shiny gold star with a gun at her side, and she was squeamish about a dead dog. "Why don’t you get me a black trash bag out of the back of the jeep," she asked.

Chris nodded happily. "Yeah. Right. Good idea." She turned and headed quickly out of the woods.

Arjay pulled on a pair of disposable gloves from her back pocket, and grabbed the dog’s hind legs to pull it out of the weeds. She felt for a moment as if the vines were clinging to the carcass, not wanting to let go. "Weeds that grow a foot a day," she thought, suppressing a shudder. Something cracked behind her and she spun around quickly, whipping her bowie knife from its sheath, to find Chris shaking open the trash bag.

"Geeze!" Her green eyes were wide. "Didn’t mean to scare you."

Arjay replaced her knife and grabbed the bag out of her hand. She hated that she could be spooked so easily. "I don’t like the country," she said, "Bugs! Heat! Woods! Creepy!"

Chris propped her hands on her hips. "You’re stuffing a dead dog in a Hefty bag and you don’t find that creepy?"

Arjay stripped off the gloves. "Part of my job," she said, tossing the gloves into the bag before tying it tightly.

"So, what do we do now?"

"Get the hell out of here," she said picking up the bag as if it was weightless.

"I mean about Vance. Do you do an autopsy or something?"

"This isn’t CSI, Deputy," she said as they walked. "Dog was old or ate something he shouldn’t have. Crawled in the woods to die. You said so yourself."

"So…what will you do with him?" she asked quietly.

Arjay stopped and looked down at her. She felt like she was looking into the eyes of a child who really didn’t want to hear the answer. "Well, you see, I take him to the incinerator at the dump outside of town, toss him in, and go back to work." Arjay felt her heart soften just a bit. "What do you want me to do with him?" she asked.

Chris smiled. "There’s a shovel over there. Can we bury him? I promised Mary we’d take care of him."

Arjay sighed and set the bag on the ground. "Get it. I’ll dig." She accepted the long handled shovel from Chris and began to dig in the soft, wet earth. "Why am I doing this?" she thought as her clean boot sunk with the shovel into the red Carolina clay.

"Because she’s a good person," replied the voice in her head. "And you like her."

Arjay thrust the shovel deep into the ground. "I do not!"

"Do not what?" Chris asked.

Damn. She had to stop answering her voice out loud. "I don’t like it here." It wasn’t really a lie. A rustling through the woods stopped Arjay in mid thrust. "What was that?"

Chris waved her hand. "Just the wind."

Arjay looked around. "Chris…there isn’t any wind."

The Deputy realized that she was right. It was more than Arjay’s imagination. Something was wrong---wrong with the woods. Her woods. Her town. She pushed the bag containing Vance into the hole and said, "Let’s get done and get out of here." For the first time she knew what Arjay meant---it was creepy out here.

Arjay Kerrigan pulled her jeep onto the gravel driveway of her one bedroom home and turned off the engine. She let out a big sigh and leaned back in the seat. It had been another long day. Six cases of missing dogs and cats, and three others found dead in wooded areas. One dead piglet in his pen, but he had gotten himself impaled on a piece of old wooden fence.

For three days, she and Chris had crawled through underbrush, tripped over branches and vines, tumbled down slippery slopes and trudged through woods, mud, and streams.

Arjay got out of the jeep and stretched to her full height. "This job was supposed to be easy," she grumbled. Everything hurt. Her body was bruised and scratched up. Her black boots that were shiny that morning were once again caked with mud. Her pants were torn at the knee, thanks to a wild rose hedge. She scratched the back of her itchy neck. "Probably poison ivy."

She trudged up to the front door and went inside. No need to lock it. She was out in the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t a neighbor for at least a mile. She had found the place in the rental section of the paper. It was cheap and most important of all, she would be left alone.

The tiny living room had a worn blue loveseat and a matching recliner, and an old lamp on a scratched up table. There was no television or stereo. She couldn’t stand the noise. The small kitchen at the other end of the room was just as grim with ancient avocado appliances. There was a small toaster oven on the counter: her one concession to having to cook at all. She never used the big oven.

Arjay removed her muddy boots and set them by the door. She’d clean them again in the morning. Despite the fact there were only blinds on the two small windows, she stripped down to her boxers and bra. She grabbed a beer out of the fridge and stared out the kitchen window through the open blinds as she gulped it down.

The small fenced in yard was overgrown. Hadn’t her landlord cut the grass last week? The surrounding woods kept getting greener and thicker with every rainstorm. The quiet was deafening. Where were the bugs? Where were the damned tree frogs? They were there when she moved in. The first week was the hardest to get used to. All that chirping and droning all night long.

"Well, at least maybe I’ll get some sleep tonight," she thought as she tossed the empty bottle into the trash can and headed through the small doorway for a much needed shower and even more needed rest.

The shower was wonderful even though the stall was just big enough for her to turn around in. Just getting the grime off her skin and out of her hair made her feel human again. The sleep she got was very often short lived.

Arjay lay on her back on the small twin bed wearing loose boxers and a v-neck tee shirt. The bed was too short for her long frame and her feet always hung off the end, but she had gotten used to it. Likewise she had gotten used to being just about able to move in the tiny bedroom that was just big enough for the bed, a small dresser and a nightstand with a lamp. Luckily there was a screened window that provided some relief from the heat.

She had only been asleep for a few hours when the nightmare began. It was almost always the same. It was as if her memories were playing out in front of her like a movie: a horror movie.

Officer Arjay Kerrigan sat behind the wheel of patrol car #27 slowly cruising the city streets. At her side, Officer Elizabeth Starky was munching on a ham and cheese sandwich. It was a quiet night on the streets and even the police radio was devoid of much chatter. On their rounds tonight they had made two traffic stops for burned out tail lights, stopped to help a family from out of town get back on the freeway, and made a quick stop at the deli to pick up some coffee and a sandwich.

Arjay bolted upright in bed screaming, "I’M SORRY!" She grabbed at her stomach and looked at her hands. She lifted her tee shirt and ran her hands over the scars. Her breathing was close to hyperventilation. Her body was bathed in sweat. She was back: back in her tiny bedroom. Back in Canfield, North Carolina. She wasn’t dead. But she should have been. She took many deep breaths and ran her hands through her hair. It was the same dream. But it wasn’t a dream, was it? It was the darkest moment in her life playing over and over again.

She switched on the light beside the bed and lay back down, curling her body into a tight fetal position. She didn’t want to be in the dark while she lay awake the rest of the night waiting for the sun to come up.

The next morning, Arjay Kerrigan had to deal with four more missing pets---none of which she found. Sheriff Griggs had sent her out alone in the pouring rain. Nothing had been said, but Arjay suspected he didn’t want his niece becoming too friendly with her. That was alright with her. Maybe he just decided it was about time she learn the Canfield roads. That was okay, too. She wanted to be alone anyway. She didn’t need anybody.

She had done well navigating the roads, and this morning she was back in her office by 11:00. And for a change, there were no new messages on her desk. She unbuckled her utility belt and hung it on the beat up coat tree next to her official Animal Control Officer rain slicker which she never wore. It was yellow---definitely not her color.

A knock on the doorframe caused her to tense. "Can’t I have five minutes to myself!" Her temper softened when she saw Chris holding two styrofoam cups of coffee.

"Thought you could use this," she said, setting one of the cups on the desk. She frowned, taking in Arjay’s condition. Her shirt was wet, as was her long black hair. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead. "You’re soaked."

Arjay snorted, "Applying to the FBI?"

"Huh?"

"Your great deductive reasoning, Sherlock."

"Oh. Sorry." Chris’s twinkling smile had crumbled.

When she turned to leave, Arjay realized she had hurt her feelings and for some reason---it mattered. "Hey, don’t go," she said quickly. "Look…I’ve had a lousy morning, it’s got to be over 100 out there, and I didn’t know when I applied for this job that North Carolina had a monsoon season. I didn’t mean to take it out on you."

Chris smiled just a bit. "Well at least our winters are nice."

Arjay returned the smile. "Sit if you want. I’ve got to change out of this shirt."

Chris sat down on a straight back metal chair and tried to keep her eyes on her coffee cup while Arjay unbuttoned her uniform shirt and peeled it off her wet arms. Her shoulders were broad. Her biceps muscular. Full breasts filled her white bra. A long deep scar ran from beneath her bra, across her stomach and disappeared somewhere beneath her belt. The skin all around it was ragged and had a patched leather look. Arjay realized she was being watched and turned her back to exchange the wet shirt for a dry one hanging on the clothes tree. "Sorry," she said quietly as she buttoned the dry shirt. "I forget sometimes how awful it looks."

Chris shook her head. "It doesn’t. Does it…does it still hurt?"

She turned back around. "Only in my head. I was lucky. Lost 18 inches of my intestines and only had to wear a colostomy bag for eight months." She tucked her shirt tale into her pants. "Could have been forever." Arjay picked up a towel from atop her filing cabinet and blotted her face and hair. "Ever been shot?"

Chris tried not to choke on her coffee. "Me? No. Not here." She looked down at the pistol strapped to her side. "I had to shoot a deer once. She’d been hit by a car. It really sucked. I cried for days."

The little blonde made it so hard for Arjay not to like her. "Why did you get into this job?" she asked as she sat behind her desk and reached for the coffee cup. "How does she know how I like my coffee?" Arjay wondered, tasting that it was perfect.

Chris shrugged. "Guess I wanted to do good for people like Uncle Joe. Help keep them safe."

"You love him a lot don’t you?"

She nodded. "My folks were killed by a drunk driver coming home from food shopping. Guy swerved into their lane and wiped them out. He didn’t have anything but a few broken bones. Joe and Edna took me and my brothers in and raised us like their own. He was my Mom’s brother. They never had any kids of their own. Aunt Edna passed six years ago. He’s always been there for me. You got any folks or family, Arjay?"

Her expression hardened. "Dad was killed during a traffic stop. He was a cop. Guess I was 13 or 14 when that happened. Mom made me move out of the house when I joined the Police Academy after high school. She said she wouldn’t go through it again. I think she was proud of me though, cause I was good at my job. Then when I came out and told her I was gay, she told me to get out of her house and she never spoke to me again. Not even when they called her to tell her I was in intensive care in the hospital and might not make it. She never came."

Chris watched Arjay carefully. Her body language went from tense to defeated. Her eyes from angry to sad. She hadn’t meant to take her down that road. "Sometimes it sucks being different," she said quietly.

Arjay looked at her and saw a kindred spirit for the first time. "Yeah, it does." She tapped a pencil on her desk. "So…what do you do for fun down here?"

Chris grinned. "Well…you can hit the Sunday sale at K-Mart over in the next town. Or there’s pot luck dinners at the churches. And once a month, there’s a dance at the firehouse. Oh, and if you get to Ingles grocery store before the noon crowd they almost always have samples of chicken salad and some kind of cheese spread with nacho chips."

Arjay felt her mood lighten and laughed. "Sounds charming."

"Oh, and don’t forget shopping for a used car. Lots of places along the highway."

"What do you do for fun?"

Chris understood. "Head over to Charlotte or Asheville. Especially on the weekends. There’s lots of nice places to eat and hang out. Very friendly. If you want, you can come with me sometime. I mean, just so I can show you around." Chris squirmed in her chair. "Not like go out together or…."

Arjay held up her hand. "I know what you meant."

Chris cocked her head to one side and asked, "Can we be friends, Arjay?"

Kerrigan looked at that beautiful smile and her sparkling green eyes. Just a week ago, there was nothing and no one that mattered in her life. Now she kind of looked forward to going to work and seeing the irritating little blonde motor-mouth. Without waiting for the voice in her head to tell her what to do, Arjay smiled and nodded. "Yes, Chris. I’d like that very much."

With exceptionally bad timing, Sheriff Griggs walked into the room. "Don’t you have work to do, Deputy? Geeze Kerrigan…your shirt’s dripping all over the floor. Will you wear the damn slicker!"

She very calmly replied, "It’s made of PVC. I’m not going to suffocate to death, and I’m not wearing a yellow anything."

Griggs thick brows drew together. "I’ll debate with you later. Right now I need you at Bill Cash’s farm."

Arjay flipped the pencil on her desk. "What now? Missing chickens?"

Joe was not amused. "Over twenty-five cows dead in his pasture."

Chris rose to her feet. "What happened?"

"They’re dead, and I need you with me, Kerrigan, to find out why."

"I’m not a vet," she reminded him.

"You’re an experienced ex-cop and my animal control officer. Let’s go."

"I’ll come too," Chris said eagerly.

He shook his head. "You’re staying here. Larry’s out on rounds and I need you in the office." Griggs left before Chris could say another word.

Arjay grabbed her utility belt and this time took her old blue baseball cap and shot a glance at the yellow slicker. "I’d rather drown!" she grumbled.

"Will you let me know what you find?" Chris asked, clearly disappointed that she was being left behind. Arjay nodded as she walked out the door. She hoped that Chris didn’t notice that she was disappointed, too.

The scene looked like something out of a bad horror movie. The beautiful green pasture was fenced with weathered wood and butted up to state forest land. There was a large pond filled with clear blue water. Opened bales of hay lay near a long, old feed trough outside of an ancient but sturdy red barn. And all around lay the bodies of black and white, and brown and white cows.

Sheriff Griggs and Arjay Kerrigan walked the pasture with the farm owner, Bill Cash. He was a tall man weathered like the fence on his property, dressed in faded and patched blue overalls, and he was openly distraught at the loss of his livestock. "I didn’t hear nothin’, Joe," he said shaking his grey haired head. "Came out this mornin’ and…" he waved his arm across the landscape, "All gone. Even my bull." His voice cracked. "Who’d do this?"

Griggs scratched his chin. "Got anybody mad at you, Bill?"

"Hell no! You know me, Joe. I keep to myself an’ don’t bother nobody."

"Yeah. Well…" The Sheriff coughed. In the hot mid morning air the dead animals were already beginning to smell. Arjay ignored the stink and their chatter and walked around the cows. Each one was on its side in the overgrown pasture. Some were spread out, others were in groups. Each one had its throat cut. The gashes were not long, but they were deep. There was some blood on the hair at the neck, but nothing like there should have been. On the white areas of body hair there were dozens of small blood spots, like needle punctures. Arjay suspected they were in the dark parts of the hair too. There should have been pools of blood on the ground. These were full grown cows. There were small splashes of red on the green where they lay, but nothing more. Just a beautiful pasture ankle deep in grass and dark green kudzu.

"Maybe they’ve been poisoned," the Sheriff offered as some sort of explanation to Bill Cash. It was actually ridiculous considering they were laying there with their throats cut.

Arjay slowly walked up to where they were standing beside several of the dead animals and calmly announced, "I think you should see something."

"What the hell are you doing!" Joe shouted as Arjay pulled her stag handled hunting knife from its sheath and plunged the long blade into the side of a cow. "Damn! Kerrigan!"

She pulled the knife free. It was still almost clean and shining. "There’s no blood!" she said. Her hand began to shake, but she repeated the attack on two other cows on different areas of their bodies. She felt her insides shudder at her discovery. "No blood at all!"

Forty-eight…forty-nine…fifty. Arjay finished her pushups and rolled to sit on the living room floor. Sweat was running down her face, and her white athletic shirt was soaked to the skin. Her long black hair was loose and hanging down around her shoulders. These were the times she wished her tiny house had air conditioning. It hadn’t seemed important when she first moved down here. Maybe one day she would buy one to put in one of the windows.

It had taken so long to get back into shape after the shooting. Physically she was fine now. Her hand pressed against her stomach. The phantom pain was still a part of her life. The doctors had told her it probably would never go away. Mentally she knew she would never be the same person she used to be. She guessed she was just lucky that she hadn’t been locked up in some mental institution for the rest of her life.

A knock on the door brought her immediately to her feet. In an instant she noted the time---8:00pm---and that her mace can and hunting knife were there on a small table by the door. At night she kept them beside her bed within easy reach.

She opened the inside door and saw a smiling face on the other side of the screen door. Chris looked different in green shorts and a maroon tee shirt. She looked smaller and vulnerable. The sweet smile was the same as always. Chris shuffled her feet. "Hi."

Arjay nodded. "Hi."

"I…ah…" She took in Arjay’s disheveled appearance. "Can I come in, or is this a bad time?"

"No. No." Arjay unlatched the screen door. The day had creeped her out and she had locked it for the first time since she had lived there. She held it open for Chris to enter. "I’m not used to having company." Actually, no one had ever been to her house before.

Chris looked over the garage sized house. "Cozy."

Arjay scooped up a towel from the floor and wiped her face. "Good enough for me."

"Am I interrupting?"

"Just finished my pushups," she explained. "Have to keep in shape to go chase after runaway dogs."

Chris tried to avoid staring at Arjay’s glistening muscular arms. It was difficult. She had never seen her with her hair down. She looked like a panther. "I was…ahh…wondering what happened? You know? With the cows? I got off shift before you got back. I was…worried. Well, not about you. No, that’s a lie." She was starting to feel stupid. "Well, you said you’d let me know."

Arjay realized she had promised to let her know and promptly forgot. It had been a long day. And she wasn’t used to having anybody to talk to anymore. "I need a shower," she said bruskly. "There’s beer in the fridge. Make yourself at home."

"Uh…okay," Chris said as Arjay disappeared quickly through a small doorway. The tiny home was smaller than her trailer. It was so sparse and dark and depressing. Who the heck put dark paneling on walls anymore? She wondered how someone as smart and city bred and beautiful could stand being shut up in Hicksville. How could anyone want to run away so badly from the life they had known?

She opened the fridge, grimacing at the creaky door, and took out a bottle of beer. There was very little of anything to eat inside: mustard, ketchup, a pack of sandwich meat that looked like bologna, half a loaf of bread, a can of coffee and a quart of milk that was two days past its sale date. A peek in the freezer revealed a tray of ice covered in freezer burn and a couple of frozen pizzas. "No wonder she’s thin," she thought. "Doesn’t she ever eat real food?" She uncapped the beer and took a big swallow and walked the few steps back into the living room. The furniture looked like it had been rescued from the dump. On the scratched table next to the reclined was an empty beer bottle and a small 4x6 photo in a frame. Chris picked it up.

The photograph was of two women with their arms around each others waists. She recognized the one woman as Arjay, even though she was much younger and smiling. The Arjay she knew had never smiled like that. They were standing and the other woman was almost as tall, but she had shoulder length curly brown hair. She, too, was smiling broadly. Her right arm was encircling Arjay from the front and she was leaning against her shoulder. "They look so happy," Chris thought.

"Her name was Beth," Arjay said quietly from the doorway.

Chris set the picture down quickly and turned to face Arjay. She was wearing a clean white tee shirt and loose thin grey lounge pants. Her damp hair was drawn back up in her usual ponytail. Chris couldn’t help thinking, "She’s beautiful!" She stepped away from the table. "I didn’t mean to be nosey."

Arjay padded barefoot to the fridge. "You’re not." She grabbed a beer and went over to sit on the loveseat. "What do you want to know?" It was against her personal rule now to allow anyone in beyond the line of friendship. "But you like her, don’t you?" asked the voice in her head. Arjay did not answer.

Chris sat on the other end of the loveseat. "She was your partner?"

"Yeah. Ten years on the force, and for seven in real life. We met at the Academy." Arjay took a gulp of her beer. "I couldn’t even go to her funeral." Her gaze dropped to the floor. "Her parents wouldn’t have let me anyway." She felt the sorrow and pain and anger begin to rise from deep inside. "NO, NO, NO!" her brain screamed. This wasn’t the little voice that lived there. This was the place where her nightmares came from almost every night. She bit her lip trying to keep hold of herself.

Chris had never been through anything like she had, but she could feel Arjay’s sadness, her loneliness and…her fear. She reached out and gently lay her hand on Arjay’s strong forearm. "I just want you to know something. If you ever need someone…." She stopped. How could she tell her that she wanted to be more than friends. How could she tell her she was the most beautiful woman she had ever known. How could she tell her that she wanted to stay.

Arjay looked up into her green eyes filled with longing and nodded in understanding. How could she tell her she was the first bright light in her world of darkness in almost three years. How could she tell her that seeing her smile made her feel again. How could she tell her that she wanted her to stay.

" I can’t risk losing anyone else I love again!" her brain screamed. "You better go," she said rising to her feet. "It’s the heat. The beer. I’m just tired. Love?....I don’t love her!"

Chris reached out to her and was more than a little hurt when Arjay stepped away quickly. "Wait…" She had to get things back to normal as quickly as possible. "Talk about business," she thought. "What happened with the cows?"

"Cows?" Arjay had almost forgotten that was why Chris was there in the first place. She tossed the empty bottle in the trash can. "The dead cows."

Chris frowned. "Are you okay, Arjay?" It was like her mind had gone blank.

She took a deep breath. "Gotta get my mind back on track," she thought. She turned to face Chris and faked a smile. "Yeah…fine." She felt all the pieces of herself fall back into place. She felt in control again. "The cows didn’t have any blood in them," she said very matter of factly.

Chris’s mouth dropped open. "WHAT!"

Arjay nodded. "Throats were cut and they all had some kind of needle marks all over them."

"Who could have done that?"

Arjay shook her head. "Damned if I know."

"Some kind of freaky devil worship thing? I’ve read about people killing chickens and smearing the blood around."

"How do you drain the blood out of a herd of cows and nobody hears anything? And there wasn’t any blood on the ground. It doesn’t make sense."

"So, what happened?"

Arjay sat in the recliner and leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "The Sheriff called somebody from the Department of Agriculture. We had to wait around a long time. I didn’t like being out there one bit."

"Did anybody come to check it out?"

Again Arjay nodded. "A man with a fancy suit and a badge in a black government car. And a big tractor trailer with lots of men in white Haz-Mat outfits. They used a bulldozer they had in the truck to load up the cows. Suit-Guy---I can’t remember his name right now---thinks it’s something in the food."

"The feed killed the cows? Did it cut their throats, too?"

Arjay folded her hands. "All I know is he took samples of Bill Cash’s feed and samples of hay and the water. Even had guys pick up some of the cow poop and bag it."

Chris smiled. "We call ‘em cow chips or cow patties down here."

"Least I didn’t say cow shit," Arjay said grinning. "Well, then we went to the feed supply place and the Agriculture Man shut it down till the results of all the tests come back."

Chris had gotten up and was pacing the floor. "Crandell’s Feed and Grain has been there since before I was born. I sure bet he was pissed."

"His accent was so thick that I couldn’t get half of what he was yelling." Arjay grinned. "But the government guy didn’t stay long there."

"There’s that beautiful smile," Chris thought. She turned away not wanting to get caught staring. "So what does Uncle Joe think?"

"He’s going along with the bad feed idea," Arjay said as she stood up. "That the feed poisoned them and some kids came along and cut ‘em up to make it look weird."

Chris looked around at her. "What do you think?"

Arjay shrugged her broad shoulders. "I don’t know. Poison? Bad water? Kids on drugs?" She walked over to the door, opened it, and looked out into the yard through the screen door. "Aliens?"

Chris laughed. "Oh, yeah. Let’s call in the people from the X-Files. Or Men in Black."

Arjay wasn’t listening. She leaned against the doorframe, still looking outside. The sun was setting, casting an eerie pinkish light on her very overgrown yard. There was a slight breeze rustling through the trees, but nothing more. "You don’t hear them anymore," she said quietly.

"Hear what?" Chris asked, walking up beside her.

"The bugs."

Chris listened, and sure enough there was no sound of chirping cicadas, crickets or tree frogs. There were slight rustling noises that could be animals or the wind. But it was strangely quiet. "I have air conditioning at home. I hadn’t noticed." She shivered uncontrollably. To used Arjay’s word, it was creepy.

"You better go home," Arjay said calmly. "I don’t want you outside once it gets dark."

In almost a whisper, Chris asked, "You think there’s something out there, don’t you?"

"Bugs, dogs and cats, small animals, and now cows…"

"But there was blood in the other things that were dead. Wasn’t there"

"I think so, from the weight of them." She shook her head. "I never checked, though. I never thought of anything that weird."

"So something went from strangling to draining the blood?"

Arjay kept looking outside. "Maybe it’s learning." She realized how ridiculous that sounded and laughed. "Aww…what do I know! I’m just a Yankee dogcatcher."

They were standing so close. Chris could smell the soap Arjay had used in the shower and the clean scent of her cotton tee shirt. Both could feel the warmth radiating off each others skin. It was more than just the fact that it was hot in the house. Chris raised her hand slowly and tentatively touched Arjay’s cheek. The black haired woman drew her head back, and she saw the hurt in Chris’s eyes. "It…it isn’t that I don’t find you attractive, Chris. I…I just…" She dropped her gaze. "I can’t."

Chris swallowed hard, but nodded. "Yeah, I know. I said I’d never get involved again, too." She didn’t want this time they had spent together to end on a bad note. "Too bad you’re a Yankee lesbian."

Arjay felt the tension break and smiled. "Do me a favor and call me when you get home, okay?"

"Hey, don’t worry about me. I’ve got my gun in the car."

Arjay nodded. "Good for you. Just do it for me, please?"

Chris was touched that she was worried about her. "Will do. See ya’ tomorrow, Arjay."

Arjay watched as Chris got into her old Honda Civic and backed out of the driveway. There hadn’t been anyone since Beth. She had had her share of meeting women in bars and never had a problem picking or being picked up. There was lots of drinking and dancing and blowing off steam. There was a lot of creating steam: touching, groping, passionate kisses. She had felt the fires burn in her loins and her breasts ache to be caressed and suckled, but when it came to "your place or mine", Arjay had run like a frightened rabbit. They were all wrong for her. Nobody could compare to Beth.

She and Beth had been so much alike in so many ways. Beth had known and understood her every feeling and emotion. She had literally known every inch of her body and every way to touch her and take her to places she had never known existed before. They were compatible in and out of bed. They liked the same clothes, the same foods, the same music. Over time even their periods synchronized to practically the same day each month. Neither of them had ever thought much about it.

Arjay was thinking now. Maybe that was Chris’s appeal. She was so different. Not just different from Beth, but different from the women she’d met in the bars. There was a special sparkle. A light that shined in her beautiful green eyes. She was a beautiful woman with a child-like glee about everything in the world around her. Life had tried with the death of her parents to harden her, but hadn’t beat her down yet. She was still filled with wonder and hope and kindness and gentleness. That was it. That was it!

"She’s the one!" she said aloud to the setting sun. "She’s my chance."

"Your chance to do what?" asked the voice in her head.

"Live again," she answered, grinning at her own realization. Her words seemed to echo in the silence of her surroundings. Arjay locked the inside door securely and picked up her cell phone from the shabby table. Sitting in the recliner, she leaned her head back and smiled, and waited just for the chance to hear Chris’s voice again.

It rained for three straight days thanks to the remnants of hurricane Duncan. The creeks rose and there was some flooding, but the little town survived. The equally good news was that Arjay had been able to stay in her office. There had been a few calls about missing pets, but the Sheriff told her they would have to wait. "I’m not gatherin’ a search party to go rescue you out of some damned storm drain!" he had grumbled. It was one of the few times Arjay was glad he thought of her as an inept Yankee.

The report from the Department of Agriculture still hadn’t arrived. George Crandell at the feed store was calling Sheriff Griggs three times a day complaining about all the business he was losing, but that was doubtful considering the stormy weather. Chris and Larry drove their rounds and found that except for the highway, most of the roads were deserted. There was lots of water, downed trees and limbs, and vegetation that would keep the road crew busy.

Arjay had said nothing to Chris about her epiphany. On this third day, she gathered up enough courage to walk out into the Sheriffs office and go up to the desk where Chris was typing reports into the central computer. Larry was out on rounds and the Sheriff was on the phone behind his desk by the storefront window that overlooked the parking lot.

Arjay felt her mouth go dry as she drank in the sight of Chris in her uniform. She was just so damn cute! "Hi," she managed to say.

Chris looked up and smiled. "Hi, yourself."

Arjay stuffed her hands in the pockets of her uniform pants. "You busy?"

"She looks so darned cute!" she thought. "Kind of. Two traffic stops and a break in at the ABC store."

"What’d they steal---the rest of the alphabet?"

Chris grinned. "Guess you don’t know that’s the name of the liquor stores down here in North Carolina."

Arjay scratched her head. "Oh. I’m just getting used to being able to buy beer at the supermarket."

"We’re not so primitive after all, huh?" She saw that Arjay was nervous about something. "So…what’s up?"

Arjay took her hands out of her pockets, looked at the floor, took a deep breath and looked up into her beautiful green eyes. "Want to go out for pizza after work?"

Chris leaned back in her chair. "No," she said, folding her arms.

Arjay deflated immediately. She hadn’t considered that Chris would turn her down cold. "No? Oh…okay."

She saw the sparkle go out of Arjay’s beautiful blue eyes and immediately said, "Hey, wait. It’s not like it sounds. I like pizza, but how would you like to come over to my place for a real meal?"

Arjay’s face brightened. "Yeah? I mean…well…sure. That would be nice. But don’t go to any trouble." She paused and added, "I don’t want you to think this is like a date or anything."

Chris fought hard to keep a straight face. It was so out of character for the tall woman to be attacked by a fit of shyness. She put on her most serious face. "Oh, of course not. I just like to cook. I don’t get much of a chance to cook for anybody but me. You like hog jowl, or livermush and collard greens?" Arjay’s pained look made Chris laugh. "How about spaghetti and meat sauce and a salad?"

Arjay breathed a sigh of relief. "Sounds edible. What can I bring?"

"Beer?"

"I don’t get to go to the alphabet store? Okay. As long as I don’t have to try to cook anything."

"Don’t worry. How about 6:00?"

Arjay nodded. "6:00. Okay." She quickly turned to go back to her office.

"Arjay?"

"Yes?"

"Want my address?"

"Oh. I guess that would be a good idea."

Chris jotted the information on an index card. Arjay took it and quickly retreated to the safety of her office, praying that she hadn’t made too big a fool of herself. "I’m acting like a teenager on a first date," she thought as she tucked the card safely in her shirt pocket."Date? This isn’t a date. Just dinner."

"Are you trying to fool me or yourself?" asked the voice in her head, "Cause it isn’t working."

"Be quiet!" she muttered, closing the door behind her.

Chris was still sitting at her desk smiling. She had promised herself that she would never get involved in a serious relationship again. But she had never met the likes of Arjay Kerrigan before now. She turned back to the computer and saw that the Sheriff was leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. He had witnessed the whole exchange. "Not a word, Uncle Joe!" she warned with a wagging finger.

Sheriff Griggs smiled. "I was just thinking that you could do a whole lot worse, Chrissy."

Chris dropped her gaze and went back to typing. The Sheriff never showed much emotion, even though Chris knew that he loved her as if she was his own daughter. What he had just said was as good as giving his blessing.

Chris lived behind the Sheriff’s old brick home on Platt Street in a two bedroom one bath trailer, or mobile home as people in the south liked to call them. He had several acres, and it just made more sense to give a chunk to his niece so she could set up her own home. Arjay didn’t have any trouble finding it, but she was surprised to see the pretty white mobile home at the end of a pecan tree laced driveway. It had wedge wood blue shutters with pretty white curtains in the windows. There was a well manicured yard with lots of flowers, and a cyclone fenced back yard with big oak and white birch trees.

The inside made Arjay feel even more embarrassed at the dump she was living in. Chris’s home was bright with white walls and tan carpeting, and filled with lots of comfortable light oak furniture. There were lots of bookcases and old knick-knacks and a chess table set to the side of a built in entertainment center. Arjay and Beth used to live in a nice apartment. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

Dinner was wonderful. Arjay had never been much of a cook. Beth had been the queen of the kitchen and Arjay couldn’t remember the last time she had had a home cooked meal---even if it was just spaghetti and a jarful of sauce. Chris had trusted her to tear up some lettuce and cut some carrots and celery. And she helped set the table without dropping anything even though she felt so nervous.

Their talk over dinner had been casual. Most of it was about food, the weather, and life in Canfield. The only subject that Chris brought up was one that she had been wondering since the first time they had met.

"Can I ask you something?" she said, taking a nibble of her salad.

Arjay nodded. "Go on. I at least owe you one question for this wonderful supper."

"Where did your name come from?"

She swallowed a mouthful of spaghetti and replied, "Kerrigan is Irish, I think."

Chris shook her head. "No…first name."

"Ahh," Arjay took a big gulp from her bottle of beer. "Well, see, I was supposed to be a boy."

Her blonde brows knitted in a frown. "You were born a boy?"

Arjay laughed. "No, I wasn’t born a boy. I’ve got all the parts I’m supposed to have. My Dad wanted a boy and was sure I was gonna be it. So when I was born, I got the shortened version of the names he’d picked out for me: Arthur, for my Grand Pop, and James for my Dad…Arjay."

Chris twirled spaghetti on her fork and nodded. "I like it."

"Mom hated it. I think she blamed him for making me gay…as if a name mattered."

"Did she know before you told her?"

Arjay leaned back in the chair. "Now that’s two questions."

Chris looked down at her plate. "I’m sorry."

"Hey, I’m joking. I’m not always so serious, you know."

"Well, I just don’t want to intrude…"

"You’re not." Arjay wiped sauce from her chin. "I think she knew I was. She tried everything to get me to be the cutesy little girl of her dreams: frilly dresses, curled hair, nail polish." She smiled at the memory. "All I wanted to do was wear jeans and tee shirts and go fishing with my Dad. Or help him work on the car. I’d come in all dirty and she’d hit the roof."

Chris smiled. "Well, I think you turned out just fine."

Arjay’s eyes stared off into space. "There was one time…" she said quietly, "when Mom shook me so hard I thought she was gonna break my arm. She said I wasn’t gonna grow up being some faggot queer dyke bitch. I never heard her talk that way. Didn’t even know she knew words like that. Made me feel like I was a freak." She blinked several times, coming back from her memory. "That was the only time I remember my Dad slapping her. He said I’d be whatever was right for me. And he’d take me and leave if she ever hurt me again."

"Did she?"

"No. But I kept everything inside. Tried to act ‘normal’ at home to keep the peace. Never let a girl know that I liked her till after I moved out. Dated some guys in high school just to make her happy. They were my friends and they knew about me, but they went along with it so I wouldn’t get in trouble at home. That was after Dad died. I didn’t have him to watch out for me anymore."

"You think he knew?"

Arjay sighed. "I think he loved me enough to let me make my own choices. And he would have accepted the person I became." She smiled at that thought, and went back to finishing her meal.

Chris said nothing but thought, "I think he’s very proud of you, Arjay Kerrigan." Chris took a big swig from her bottle of beer and decided she wanted to keep Arjay talking. "Can I ask something else?"

"Ooohh," Arjay said pointing her fork at her, "Now you’re pushing it, Barnes!" Then she laughed and added, "Go on. I’m on my third beer, so you caught me in a good mood."

"How old are you, Arjay?"

"32," she replied after swallowing a big bite of spaghetti. She saw the look of surprise on Chris’s face. "What’s that look for?"

Chris dropped her gaze. "Well, I thought…I mean…you look…"

"Older?"

"Well…yeah."

Arjay could see that Chris was embarrassed. "Hey, you should see my gray hair before I dye it every month," she admitted.

"Really?"

She nodded. "The trauma aged me. I used to be good lookin’."

"You’re beautiful," she blurted out without thinking. "Oh…I’m sorry." Here she was trying to make a good impression and show Arjay a nice time and she was ruining everything with her big mouth.

Arjay felt her cheeks flush. "Good grief! I can’t believe I’m blushing!" she thought. "Don’t apologize. Nobody’s said that and made me feel like they meant it for a long time." That was true. It was the honesty and openness that shined in Chris’s emerald eyes that told Arjay that it was spoken from the heart. "So," she said, really needing to turn the attention away from her, "How old are you?"

"I’m 25. Well, I’ll be 26 next month."

"Ahh. Well, you look younger." She smiled. "Like a kid sometimes."

She wasn’t prepared for Chris’s reaction. The little blonde straightened, frowned and snapped, "I’m not a kid, Arjay. I’m all grown up. Been a Deputy Sheriff since I was 22. I may not be all city-fide like you, but…."

"Let’s see you get out of this one," said the voice in her head.

"Hold on!" Arjay said raising her hands. "I wasn’t meaning that as an insult." Chris shut her mouth, so she continued. "Chris, there’s a sparkle in your eyes." Her voice softened. "A light that shines in you." She struggled to find the words. "A wonder. A goodness. I…I never saw that in any adult I’ve ever known."

"I knew you had it in you to tell her the truth." The voice sounded pleased. Now she just had to hope she had set things right with Chris.

It seemed it was Chris’s turn to blush. Her eyes had softened to warm pools of green. "Well then, I guess that’s a good thing, huh?"

Arjay smiled warmly in return and nodded. "It sure is, Chris."

They both relaxed once again, feeling very comfortable in each others company. It was the first time in a long time for both women to let their guard down and be themselves. It was as if they had known each other a long time. Arjay helped clear the table and load the dishwasher (with Chris showing her how to put the pieces in), but Chris shooed her to go sit in the living room on the other side of the kitchen counter while she washed the sauce pan.

Sitting on the soft sofa, wearing a white tee shirt and her favorite faded and worn jeans, Arjay felt at ease. She was so used to keeping herself aloof and on guard. It had been so long since she had shared anything of her real self with anyone. It had been so long since she had dared to show her feelings. She didn’t know exactly what all these feelings meant, but it felt right. She felt a peace come over her for the first time since that fateful night. Right here. Right now. She was happy.

Chris looked over at Arjay as she set the pot on the drain board. "She looks so…serene. Could she really be happy here…with me?" She dried her hands and asked, "Want me to put on some coffee?"

"Nawww." Arjay waved her hand. "Come sit. You did enough with that great supper."

Chris stepped into the living room and flopped cross-legged on the sofa. "You look relaxed."

Arjay nodded. "I am. It’s…nice here."

"Well, no offence, but your place is…well…"

"Depressing?"

"Yeah. You don’t have much."

Arjay faced her, draping her arm over the back of the sofa. "I sold everything I could and gave away the rest. Threw what I needed in the jeep and came down here."

"Why? Why bury yourself in being a dogcatcher?"

Arjay raised her finger. "Animal Control Officer."

"La-de-da," Chris laughed.

"Okay. Truth is, after the shooting, I kind of...lost it."

"It’s no wonder."

"The Department gave me two choices: a desk job or disability. I didn’t want to stay there knowing the bastards were hoping we’d both been killed."

"Was it because you’re gay?"

Arjay raised her arm and leaned her head in her hand. "Beth and I were the Starsky and Hutch of the Precinct."

"Don’t you mean Cagney and Lacey?"

"Good one there, Deputy." Arjay nodded. "We were good at what we did. We were both up for a gold shield. Two women gonna’ make Detective. That really pissed off the ‘Good Ol’ Boys Club’."

"So you took disability."

Arjay nodded once again. "My guts healed, but I was tossed around to three psychiatrists who certified that I was…unstable." She sat up and leaned forward, folding her hands between her knees and staring down at them. "Flashbacks. Nightmares. Panic attacks. I couldn’t even hold a gun anymore. Forget the gold badge. I had to get away, but I didn’t want to give it all up. I don’t know if that makes any sense. What was I going to do with my life? From the time I was a kid, all I wanted to do was be a cop like my Dad. I didn’t want to wait tables or put burgers in a bag…even though there’s nothing wrong with making an honest living. It wasn’t me. I saw this job posted on an internet job site. I was really surprised when I got an email from Joe. I was even more surprised when he checked into my background and said I could have the job. I never even asked him what he was going to pay me. When I got it, I gave the landlord 30 days notice and…" she looked up. "Here I am."

Chris reached out and touched her arm lightly. "I’m glad you’re here."

Her hand was warm and soft and Arjay felt herself responding to her touch. They were feelings she had long since thought were dead and buried. She lay her larger hand on top of Chris’s and squeezed gently. "I’m glad I’m here, too."

Chris looked into her beautiful blue eyes and felt butterflies in her stomach. "If I’m dreaming this, please don’t let me wake up yet." Arjay leaned back against the couch and released her hand, but Chris couldn’t let the moment end. She let her hand slide down Arjay’s arm slowly. "I want…" she stopped the movement of her hand.

"Tell me," Arjay whispered, gulping hard.

"Let me touch your stomach," she said shyly.

Arjay flinched. "No one has. I’m…ugly."

"Please." She realized that it was an off the wall request, but it was important to her. She felt a desperate need to let Arjay know that she was still whole. That she was still desirable. That she was still a woman.

Arjay slowly pulled the tee shirt out of her pants with trembling hands, but stopped short of exposing her stomach. "I can’t."

"I’ve already seen it."

"This is different. That was my fault. I never meant you to see it. It was an accident. Nobody but the doctors and nurses who put me back together have seen it. I’m ugly! I’m all torn up!" Arjay was spiraling into a panic. She had her back pressed into the sofa and looked as if she was going to bolt at any moment.

Chris reached out slowly to her. "I won’t hurt you," she said, gently guiding Arjay’s hand to raise the shirt. "You’ve got to trust someone, Arjay. Please trust me." The dimpled patchwork wound came into view. Arjay closed her eyes. She was just short of going into a full blown panic attack. "I won’t hurt you," Chris repeated. Arjay’s body began to shake violently as Chris gently lay her warm hand on her skin. "Open your eyes, please."

Arjay felt herself crumbling inside. "I can’t do this." Her breath was coming out in gasps.

"Yes, you can," the voice in her head spoke calmly. "You can trust this one. Let it happen. It’s alright. You can trust her."

Arjay opened her eyes slowly and saw Chris’s beautiful, smiling face. "Hi," Chris said quietly, "See…I’m still here. I’m not running away."

"You don’t think it’s…awful?" Arjay asked with her voice quivering.

"I think what happened to you is awful. But you, Arjay Kerrigan…" Chris leaned down and gently touched her soft warm lips to Arjay’s wrinkled skin, "are beautiful to me." Arjay’s body shuddered as Chris’s tongue lovingly tasted her skin. She had not planned to do anything like this. This wasn’t even part of some of the dreams she had been having lately! "She’s so beautiful," Chris thought as her own body began to respond to what she was doing. "I want her so much!"

Arjay let her arms fall to her sides, closed her eyes and tried to get her body to relax and enjoy the totally sensuous experience. "See," her voice said, "I was right. It’s time."

Despite the growing wetness between her thighs, Arjay closed her hands into fists and shouted, "IT’S TOO SOON!"

Chris bolted upright on the sofa and looked into sad blue eyes. "I’m so sorry," she apologized. "I didn’t mean to…." She jumped to her feet. She had crossed the line. She had gone too far. She had ruined everything.

"No…no…WAIT!" Arjay reached for her, her hand just grazing Chris’s leg as she hurried past her. "I wasn’t talking to you."

Chris stopped and looked at her. "What?"

Arjay pulled down her shirt. "Chris, I’m not crazy. Well, maybe I am, but you don’t have to be afraid of me."

"What am I missing here?"

Arjay ran her hand through her hair. "When I was going through recovery, I was in severe depression. I didn’t want to live." She dropped her hand across her stomach. "I ripped the stitches out twice hoping to bleed to death. They had to tie my hands to the bed railings. I was kept medicated to keep from screaming!"

"Oh, Arjay!"

"One night after I was home healed up on the outside but on painkillers and anti-depressants with a colostomy bag attached to me, I got out a fifth of whiskey and three bottles of pills and decided to check out. It would have been so easy. And I just couldn’t stand it anymore." She paused. She had never told this story to anyone. "That’s when the Voice first spoke to me."

Chris was suddenly more intrigued than scared. "What did it say?"

"That I was being stupid. That I was feeling guilty cause I lived and Beth didn’t. But that it wasn’t my time to die then or now."

"I’m glad you didn’t go through with it."

Arjay nodded. "Me too…now."

Chris tilted her head to one side. "And you still hear it?"

She smiled. "I’m not schizoid. I don’t have multiple personalities. But it talks to me. We have talks---most of the time what I say stays in my head. I don’t know if it’s a ‘who’ or a ‘what’."

"Maybe it’s your Guardian Angel."

Arjay looked up at her and asked, "You believe me?"

Chris couldn’t believe she looked so surprised. "Why wouldn’t I?"

"I never told anybody about it. Not even the shrinks."

Chris grinned. "Then I am truly honored," she said moving close enough to Arjay to reach out her hand and touch her cheek. Arjay began to blush, and Chris raised her hand and gently tapped her forehead with her forefinger. "Hey in there. If you can hear me, would you mind very much if I was to kiss this woman you been lookin’ out for?"

Arjay dropped her gaze, desperately fighting back tears. She couldn’t look at Chris. "She believes me! She isn’t afraid! She didn’t run away! She still likes me!"

"And you like her," said the Voice. "Take it slow. You’re alright. You’re finally getting on the road home."

Chris sat close to her on the sofa. "Look at me, Arjay."

Arjay raised her eyes and felt as if she was going to drown in the deep pools of sparkling green that greeted her. She unconsciously wet her lips. "Chris…I…"

"I won’t hurt you."

"I know," she said, gently touching the tips of her fingers to Chris’s cheek. "Can she hear my heart pounding?" she thought. But the Voice didn’t answer. This was between the two of them now.

The two women began to lean towards each other almost in unison, and soft lips met soft lips. Soft and warm and inviting and…the telephone on the kitchen counter rang loudly!

They jerked away from each other quickly and started laughing. This couldn’t be happening! "Great timing!" Arjay groaned, slumping back against the sofa.

"Let it ring," Chris said reaching out for her, "I’ve got an answering machine…"

"PICK UP, CHRIS! Dear Lord, please be there!" It was the trembling voice of Sheriff Griggs coming from the speaker of the answering machine.

Both of them bolted to their feet and Chris punched the speakerphone button. "Uncle Joe, what’s wrong?" She began to shake. "Joe, I’m here!" She had never heard her Uncle sound so afraid.
"We’re out on Edgely! There’s a guy dead! It’s not right! Can’t see the road! OH GOD!...NO! IT’S MOVING! LARRY…LOOK OUT!" There was the sound of the phone being dropped.

There was the muffled sound of Larry screaming, "GET IT OFF ME!...OH SWEET JESUS!...AGGGGH!" The last part was a guttural sound, as if Larry was drowning.

Gunshots. At least a half dozen in quick succession. Griggs screamed, too. "OH GOD!...OH GOD…HELP ME!...NOOOOO…..!"

Chris had grabbed onto Arjay’s arm with both hands and her whole body was shaking. "JOE!" she shouted into the speaker. "UNCLE JOE!" The phone line was still open, but the only sound was an eerie scuffling as if something was being dragged across the phone as it lay on the ground.

Arjay shook her by the shoulders. "You know where they are?" She tried to keep her voice calm, but the demons from the past were wanting to come out and play. She was very afraid.

Chris stared at the phone which had suddenly gone dead and nodded numbly. "Not far," she replied weakly.

Arjay shook her hard. "Stay with me, Chris! Get it together!" She knew that look of someone retreating into shock. "We need to go! NOW!"

The Deputy Sheriff blinked her eyes rapidly as if waking from a bad dream. "This is no dream!" her mind screamed. Her face was pale. She was still shaking, but she focused her eyes on Arjay and squeezed her arm. "I’m here. I need my stuff!" She ran through the kitchen and into the room at the end of the trailer. In seconds she was back, strapping her gun belt around her waist. She had her badge in her hand.

"We’ll take the jeep," Arjay said opening the door as Chris pinned the badge to her tee shirt. "My gear’s in it."

"I know the way," she said following quickly. "I’ll drive!"

Arjay tossed her the keys. Chris caught them in mid air without missing a beat. She felt comfortable that Chris was in control of herself again, even though she knew that both of them were very, very much afraid of whatever lay ahead.

Chapter 11

The air was thick with humidity and the temperature had to still be in the upper 90’s, even though it was evening. The jeep was doing seventy-five miles an hour down the highway leading to the edge of town. Chris was an excellent driver. She was able to maneuver around still downed trees and potholes and what little traffic there was with ease.

Arjay couldn’t help but wonder, "Where are the cars? The people?" She saw yards terribly overgrown with weeds. "It didn’t look like this a few days ago!" Some homes were dark. A number of cars and trucks were almost buried in vegetation. The hairs on the nape of her neck were standing up. "This is NOT right!" she thought, wondering if Chris was seeing it, too. Chris was silent and focused on one thing…finding her Uncle and Larry.

She careened the jeep onto Edgely Road and Arjay shivered. It was as if they had entered a primordial forest. The vegetation was incredibly thick. Trees, bushes, overhead wires, light poles---all covered in vines. The road was difficult to see because of the sea of green.

"I don’t believe this!" Chris shook her head. "What the hell is happening?"

Arjay just kept looking around. "This is that weed. That ‘kudzu’, right?"

"Yeah," she replied. "At least I think so."

"Is it supposed to grow this fast?"

The jeep bumped and thumped through the growth. "No!" She downshifted for better traction. "Only in nightmares."

"Maybe you guys had a little TOO much rain this year," Arjay said as she realized the only thing there was to look at was kudzu.

Chris kept tapping the brake to keep the wheels from skidding. "Maybe I’ll wake up soon, too!"

Arjay squinted through the windshield and pointed up ahead. "Patrol car!"

There were two cars on the side of the road: a small red coupe with its hood up, and the Sheriff’s car. Both were over a foot deep in kudzu. Chris stopped the jeep behind the patrol car and cut the engine. The silence was deafening. "Let’s find Joe and Larry," Arjay said quietly. She didn’t know why she felt the need to almost whisper. It was almost like she felt they were being watched. They stepped carefully out onto the deep growth. Nothing happened. "Now don’t you feel stupid, Kerrigan!" she thought. "It’s just a lot of overgrown weeds," she muttered, lifting her feet to take big steps through the vines with Chris right behind her.

"Ugg!" Chris said as the large wet leaves and vines brushed against her bare legs.

They slowly walked past the patrol car. No one was inside. Past the coupe---also empty. Arjay froze in her tracks. Chris bumped right into her back. "Hey! You gotta stop doin’ that to me, Kerrigan!"

Arjay spun around to Chris, her face now drained of color. "We need to go!" she insisted.

Chris frowned. "What is it?" Arjay held her tightly by her shoulders. "Let go of me!"

"Don’t, Chris, please!" Arjay pleaded. Chris twisted free, pushed past her…and screamed!

There, on what used to be the paved road, lay three men in various positions. A stranger dressed in a business suit lay flat on his back. Larry was on his side. The Sheriff was on his stomach with his head turned toward his outstretched arm. His gun was still in his hand. All three were covered in leafy vines. All had their throats slit almost from ear to ear. Their eyes were open and their faces frozen in fear and stark terror. Their skin was ashen. Bloodless. But there was no blood on the ground or the road, or on the vines that covered them.

Chris was still screaming as she struggled through knee deep vines to reach Joe Griggs. Arjay had tried to grab her but missed, and now she stood frozen to the spot as Chris sobbed uncontrollably in the silence of this jungle just outside a small town in North Carolina. Her mind flashed back to that night in the electronics store.

Arjay thought she had Beth’s back. She never saw her own attacker till the bullet left his gun. Her only thought was to protect her partner: the woman she loved. They had called for backup before they went inside, but they faced the terror alone. The hole in her stomach was so big. So much blood. She tried to keep her insides from falling out. She tried to crawl to Beth. She saw the terror in Beth’s eyes, and her beautiful face shattering from the force of the gunshot. In those few minutes, she had lost everything that she loved.

Now she was alone with Chris, and something again was terribly wrong. Fear gripped her. Raging blind panic. Her heart began to beat faster and faster. Her breathing increased. And her feet wouldn’t move. She relived the past a second time in a flash of light. It was the flash and sound of the gun firing in the darkened store….the feeling of her body exploding….her intestines slipping through her fingers and onto the floor. Beth screaming her name….Beth looking into her eyes one last time before….

"THAT WAS THEN AND THIS IS NOW!" hollered the Voice. "Stop replaying the past! The past is GONE! Beth is GONE! Chris needs you NOW!"

Arjay swallowed hard. "I’M AFRAID!" her mind screamed.

"I know. I’m with you." The Voice said calmly.

She bit her lip and managed to take one step forward and then another, and held out her hand. "Chris," she couldn’t keep her voice from shaking. Chris was crouched over Joe’s lifeless body, holding the hand of the man who had been a Father to her. She was sobbing and calling his name. "Wake up, Uncle Joe! Come on! GET UP!"

"Chris," Arjay begged, "We’ve GOT to get out of here!"

Chris looked up at her. "We’ll call for help. We’ve got to get them out of here. We can’t leave them here! I won’t leave them here!"

"No one’s left to help, Chris." She shook her open hand at Chris. "We need to go for now. Come to me…please." Arjay tried to keep her voice calm. She wanted to scream. Her sanity was holding on by a thread.

"I’M NOT LEAVING HIM HERE!" she shouted as she stood up.

The ground suddenly came alive! It was a sea of rippling, pulsating vegetation. A vine snaked up with lightning speed and wrapped about her calf. Chris screamed as another thicker vine with larger leaves rose up from the ground quickly and whooshed toward her face. She twisted her body and the edge of one of the leaves sliced through the material of her tee shirt and across her shoulder. It had been aiming for her throat.

Arjay saw this as if it was happening in slow motion. It wasn’t until she saw the red stain on Chris’s tee shirt that she knew she had to overcome her fear. She knew she had to save her. All that mattered now was saving Chris. She was being given a second chance. She pulled out her hunting knife and lunged into the fray. The vine around Chris’s leg had jerked her off her feet. She was sitting in the kudzu, kicking and clawing at the vine that was still curling up her leg. Several leafless tips on the vine had jabbed into her flesh. Other vines slithered on the ground toward her.

Arjay grabbed the vine constricting her leg and whacked it in one stroke. She could feel a strength in it that was frightening. As if she needed to be any more frightened. There was no way these vines could just be broken by hand. The vines kept coming. Some raised up six feet or more from the ground. Others dropped down from trees and electrical wires. It wasn’t one vine---there were hundreds…maybe thousands. And they appeared to be hundreds of feet long. There was no telling where each of them was originating from.

Chris grabbed Arjay’s arm with both hands and scrabbled to her feet. Arjay almost lost her grip on her knife as a vine whipped around her wrist, its tip piercing her skin. She felt a suction. It was drinking her blood.

She tugged at the green thing that was constricting like a snake. She cut herself free with her left hand and grabbed Chris’s arm. "THE JEEP!" she ordered, and pulled her along as she ran. One of the big leaves swooped waist high. It hit the razor sharp blade of her knife and dropped to the ground.

The jeep was not yet fully engulfed by the plants. Arjay pushed Chris in through the drivers side. Chris moved over quickly as Arjay got behind the steering wheel. Her hands were shaking as she turned the key in the ignition. The engine groaned, but didn’t turn over. Sweat ran into her eyes. She ignored it and tried again. The jeep roared to life and Arjay threw the transmission into reverse.

They had backed up about fifty feet when Arjay slammed on the brakes. "What the hell are you doing!" Chris said shaking her by the arm. "We’ve got to get out of here!"

"Give me your gun!" Arjay demanded.

"Are you nuts!"

"YOUR GUN!" she shouted.

Chris unclipped her Smith and Wesson 9mm semi-automatic and held it out to Arjay. Arjay had not been able to hold a gun since that night without shaking uncontrollably. Once upon a time, Arjay Kerrigan had been the best shot in her class at the Academy. She had been tops on her precinct firing range team. She had excelled at being a police officer. She had the ribbons and certificates to prove it. But now she was the town dogcatcher. And nothing she had ever learned had prepared her to fight...what?...mutant kudzu?

She took the pistol and her hand began to shake. The urge to throw up was so strong. The Voice in her head spoke calmly to her. "Breathe slow. You can do this. You have to do this!" She nodded and reached for the door handle.

"What are you doing?"

"Gonna try to slow some of it down," she replied, stepping out onto the road that was just beginning to slither with green vines. "I couldn’t save you, Bethy!" her thoughts cried out. "I’m gonna try to do better this time." And former police officer Arjay Kerrigan released the safety, raised the service revolver, held it steady, and fired two shots into the gas tank of the patrol car.

The explosion and fireball shook the ground and pieces of shrapnel rained from the sky. The red coupe exploded moments later. Vegetation that was struck by the burning gasoline writhed as if in pain as it burned. Other vines retreated and slithered away from the intense heat. The woods was alive. The kudzu was angry.

Arjay jumped back into the jeep. She shifted the 4x4 into drive, floored the gas pedal, spun a 180 turn and headed back into town. She glanced over at Chris. Her face was pale and she had her hand pressed against the gash in her shirt. "How’s the shoulder?"

"Hurts," she replied. She shifted in her seat and looked at her leg. There were small red marks and drops of blood. "It…it was trying to suck out my blood," she said, and her body began to shake.

Arjay lay her right hand on the young woman’s leg. "Easy, Chris. We’re gonna be alright." She didn’t know if that was true, but the road they were on now was clear of vegetation and they were entering civilization again. The jungle was behind them. Traffic lights. Small businesses closed because it was Sunday. Lights on inside some of the homes.

Arjay pulled into the empty parking lot of a closed furniture store. She hopped out of the jeep and went around to Chris’s side and opened the door. She gently touched her blood-soaked arm and Chris slid to her feet and into Arjay’s arms. Arjay held her close as Chris wept against her chest.

"We’re gonna be okay," Arjay repeated, kissing the top of her head.

Chris looked up, her wet green eyes boring deeply into blue ones. "You saved my life."

Arjay used her thumb to brush a tear from Chris’s cheek. "Couldn’t lose you, too," she said with a smile.

Chris weakly returned the smile. Just being in Arjay’s arms was helping to calm her nerves. But she looked back to where they had just come from. "It’s coming, isn’t it?"

Arjay nodded. "Probably from everywhere."

"It’s just kudzu, for God’s sake! How can it be alive?"

"Plants are alive. They just don’t usually move around and kill people."

Chris pulled away quickly. "It’s been the kudzu all along!" she realized. "It’s been killing the animals."

"Bugs, dogs and cats, chickens and pigs…."

"The cows!"

"And it exhausted the blood supply."

Chris ran her hand through her short hair. "And now it’s found another source. Arjay…what are we going to do?"

She looked around. It would be dark soon. If the kudzu invaded the town, no one would be safe. "We’ve got to warn everybody."

"How? Knock on doors? Oh, and what do we say ‘Hi there---killer kudzu is coming to get you’?"

Arjay bit her lip. What was it Joe had told her when she first got hired? Her Voice spoke up. "If you’re out on a case and the fire alarm keeps sounding, get inside cause a tornado might be coming." Arjay whooped with glee, "The fire sirens! That’ll keep people inside! How do we turn them on?"

Chris shrugged and winced at the pain in her shoulder. "I don’t know, but Doug Ferris does. Get in! I’m driving!"

Arjay didn’t have a clue who Doug Ferris was, but she didn’t argue. Chris was back in control and Chris knew Canfield better than she did. The tires peeled rubber as the jeep roared down the road.

It was only a matter of minutes until they pulled into the only fire station in Canfield. Both women hurried to the side door that led to an upstairs apartment. They rang the doorbell and banged relentlessly on the door. An outside light came on, the door opened, and a shocked man in his forties shouted, "Good Gawd, Chris! What in the hell is going on!"

She knew she was a bloody disheveled mess and it would take too long to explain. "Doug, can you turn on all the sirens in town?"

"Yeah…but why would I want to do that?" He looked past Arjay. "Where’s Joe? I need authorization."

"Joe is DEAD!" Chris shouted. "Larry, too. Right now I’m in charge, and if you don’t get the damn sirens on, I’m gonna have my Deputy cut your throat!"

Arjay tried not to smile. "Looks like I got a promotion," she thought, pulling her hunting knife out of its sheath.

Doug raised his hands. "Whoa! Chris, I don’t know what’s going on, but…" He stopped when Arjay quickly pinned him against the wall, the point of her knife against his throat. "Okay, okay!" he said raising his hands as if she was going to shoot him instead. Arjay took a step back and returned the knife to its home, her eyes never leaving the man. Doug dropped his arms and quickly led them to the front of the firehouse. They walked past two very large bay doors and into the office.

Doug took a set of keys out of his pocket, unlocked the door of a large gray box on the wall and pulled a large lever marked MAIN. The wail of sirens going off all over town was almost deafening.

Chris nodded. "Good. Now, leave them on."

"Do I get to know why?" he asked, still totally puzzled.

"You gotta trust me. Get back inside and stay inside! Consider it an order."

His eyebrows knitted. "This isn’t a joke is it Chris?"

She shook her head. "I wish it was."

"Lemme know if I can do anything else, okay?" he said as he walked back toward his home.

"Will do," Chris called after him.

Arjay followed her as she headed back to the jeep. "Now what?"

Chris climbed in behind the steering wheel and leaned her forehead on it. "I’m so tired."

"Me, too," Arjay said, getting in the passenger side. "But we can’t stop now."

She leaned back in the seat. "We know it can be cut and burned."

"Yeah. But we can’t just set fire to it. It’s too wet. The gas tanks exploded and the fuel covered it."

"We need help." Chris giggled at her own obvious understatement.

"Let’s go to the office."

"Nobody left but you and me, in case you forgot!" Her tone of voice was angry.

Arjay ignored it. "We can make calls. Get our thoughts together. And it’s safer than just sitting here."

Chris nodded in agreement and started the engine. There was no way they could handle this alone. And even though Arjay was sitting right beside her, she felt very much alone.

Arjay knew how to operate a police radio and a ham radio, but when she ran the dials, there was nothing but static. She knew from the needle that she had located stations, and there was plenty of power. She was either not broadcasting, or there was no one out there to hear her.

Chris tried calling on the land line, but the phone was dead. Her cell phone was also inoperative. "This can’t be happening!" her mind screamed. She threw the cell phone against the wall, shattering it into pieces. "Cut off by a fuckin’ weed!" she groaned, as she felt the gash in her shoulder spread open.

Arjay quickly gathered her in her arms. "Shhh…shhh…don’t now."

The smaller woman struggled to get free and yelled, "DON’T WHAT! My Uncle is laying out there dead and probably fried to a crisp! Larry, too! Hell, I went to school with him. And that poor bastard who just had car trouble. And who knows who else. People are gonna die tonight…and I can’t save them!"

"Anymore than I could save Beth! This isn’t your fault!" Arjay pointed to a chair. "Now sit down and let me clean up that cut."

Chris raised her hands in the air. "What for? Why bother? What’s the use…we’re dead anyway."

Arjay lost it. With a primal roar she picked up the wooden chair and smashed it on top of the desk until chunks and splinters flew. She overturned the steel desk with such force that Chris backed away from her and huddled against the wall. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her heart was racing. She felt she was watching the strong, beautiful woman she had come to care about so much have a total meltdown. Arjay was on a rampage, destroying everything she could get her hands on. She wasn’t even aware that Chris was in the room.

She finally dropped to her knees on the floor and sat back on her haunches. Her energy was spent. It was all so hopeless. She wanted to be strong again, like before the shooting. She wanted Chris to believe in her. How could she when she didn’t even believe in herself. She was a fraud. Just a shell of the woman she used to be. She didn’t deserve Chris. Tears began to run down her cheeks.

Chris had to do something. She was losing her. It was as if she could feel Arjay retreating into herself. She pulled a first aid kit from a bracket on the wall and slowly sat on the floor in front of Arjay. She wasn’t afraid anymore. She had to bring her back. "I…I can’t do this by myself," she said quietly as she opened the kit. "Will you help me, Arjay?"

Arjay looked at the small blonde. All of her anger was gone. She looked into those soft green eyes…so gentle…so trusting. Chris’s shirt was torn and bloody. She was wet and muddy and red and green stained almost from head to foot…but she was so beautiful. "Why does she care?" she mused.

"Because you’re worth it," replied the Voice.

"No, I’m not," she thought.

"She thinks so," the Voice told her.

Chris remained still as Arjay cut away the remains of the tattered tee shirt. Her bra beneath was bloody as well. "You wanna take this off?" Arjay asked. "I promise I won’t look."

Chris nodded. "Can you get the hook?" she asked. "I can’t reach back."

Arjay unhooked her bra and Chris tossed it aside, modestly holding the cut up tee shirt over her small breasts. A bottle of water lay on the floor from one of the overturned desks and Arjay used it and cotton balls from the kit to clean the wound. It wasn’t very deep, but it was long and jagged. When she dabbed on some peroxide, Chris winced but said nothing.

"Sorry I scared you," Arjay said as she worked.

"Sorry I made you mad," Chris replied with just a tiny smile.

"Nawww. I just need to go a little insane every once in awhile." Arjay was only partly joking. She carefully blotted the cut. There was something she needed to say, and this seemed to be the time. "I was given a second chance when I survived being shot. I didn’t understand why…till I met you." Chris looked up into her blue eyes, but said nothing. "You made me feel again." She closed the gash as best she could with butterfly bandages. "I’m not going to lose you. Not tonight! Not ever!"

Chris smiled through the pain. No one had ever made her feel like Arjay Kerrigan did. "I love you," she openly admitted.

It was Arjay’s turn to smile. "Yeah," she nodded. "I love you, too." The words flowed so easily. She got to her feet and held out both hands to Chris. "Come on," she said helping her to her feet. "Let’s put our two extraordinary brains together and figure out what to do about the greeny-meanies outside."

Chris opened the closet and took out a clean short sleeve uniform shirt, pausing for a moment to touch Joe Griggs extra shirt. Arjay hurried back to her office and grabbed her shirt from the coat tree along with the yellow rain slicker. As they put on their clean shirts, Arjay said, "We can do two things: stay here, or go back out."

Chris frowned. "I can’t stay here. I’ve gotta help. Do something. It’s my job. I can’t let this town die."

"We’ll take your patrol car."

"Arjay, I can’t ask you to go back out there…."

"You’re not," she said as she tied the PVC jacket around a broken chair leg. "I’m going."

"What are you doing?"

Arjay walked to the storefront window and motioned into the darkness. "It’s out there. I can hear it. We need a way to get to the car." She held up the makeshift torch. "Got a match?"

Joe smoked an occasional cigar, so Chris rummaged through the remains of his desk till she found a lighter. She tried not to think of the little bits of his life that were scattered on the floor. "Wet kudzu won’t burn," she reminded Arjay.

"I know, but maybe we can scare it," she said, flicking the lighter to make sure it worked.

"You’re talking like it has a brain or something."

"It ran away from the fire. It sensed or felt or knew it was bad. Ready to give this a try?"

Chris felt her mouth go dry, but she nodded. "Ready."

Arjay opened the door, and was greeted by a wall of slithering kudzu. Vines at least eight feet tall. Some leaves at least a foot in diameter. The leaves turned toward her as if sensing warm blood close by.

She thumbed the lighter and touched the flame to the raincoat. The plastic instantly ignited, and Arjay held the torch out to the kudzu. Whether by instinct or intelligence, the vines pulled back from the doorway. "So, you are afraid," she muttered. She pulled out her hunting knife and handed it to Chris. "Stay close to me," she warned.

"Don’t worry about that," Chris whispered close to her back. "Just don’t make anymore quick stops."

The two women walked forward in unison out into the night. It was like being in a cornfield. The kudzu was now everywhere. Arjay walked slowly in the direction of the patrol car, waving the torch from side to side. The kudzu seemed to offer a bow as it backed away clearing a path for them.

A vine as thick as an electrical cord lashed around Arjay’s wrist, its tip stabbing into the back of her hand. She bit down on her tongue to keep from making a sound and held fast to the torch as Chris slashed the vine to free her arm. Arjay pulled the needle like stem from her hand, ignoring the trickle of blood that followed. She saw that blood was dripping from the cut end of the vine. Whatever the internal structure of this weed had become, it was growing on water, but it was living on blood.

The further they walked, the shorter the kudzu. When they reached the patrol car, the kudzu was only a few feet deep, but it was a moving writhing mass. Arjay waved the torch to clear the passenger door. "When I open it, dive in!" she whispered. She didn’t want to make the kudzu any angrier than it already was. Chris touched her back to let her know she was ready. Arjay pulled the door open and spun around to defend the area. Chris jumped into the car and slid across the bench seat to the driver’s side. Arjay made one last wave with the dwindling torch, tossed it into the kudzu and fell into the car, slamming the door behind her.

In the silence of the car, both women realized they were breathing hard. "You know," Arjay said to break the tension, "the Sheriff was right…I really did need that damned yellow raincoat."

Arjay couldn’t see Chris’s eyes tear up. "Joe was right about a lot of things." She thought about his approval of Arjay just that afternoon. She turned the key and the car started right up. When she switched on the headlights, they both gasped. The front of every building including the Sheriffs Office was covered in vines that extended up over the roof. Arjay’s jeep was nowhere to be seen. It was somewhere beneath the moving vines. "I’m gonna try to drive through town." Chris pointed to the coiled microphone clipped to the dashboard. "Get on that thing and tell people to stay inside."

And so the journey began. Chris drove slowly as Arjay broadcast the message. They passed cars speeding out of town. No tickets tonight. Chris silently wished them good luck.

There were people out in their yards battling the kudzu. Some had rakes, sickles, machetes, torches of their own. People were being slashed by the leaves. There were bodies, too. Men, women, children. Some were still alive but their throats had been slashed and they couldn’t even scream as the vines that had pierced their skin drained their blood.

Chris had never seen such horror. She felt so helpless. Her town was dying. When she couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, Arjay shut off the PA system and asked, "What do you want to do, Chris? Stay or go?"

"I’ve got to stay. It’s my home." She lay her hand on Arjay’s knee. "You should go. Save yourself."

Arjay shook her head. "I’m staying with you." She lay her hand on top of the much smaller one. "Whatever happens…we face it together."

"I wish we could have had more time together," she said sadly, turning her hand over to grip Arjay’s hand.

"We’re together now," she said, holding on tightly.

Chris sucked in her breath suddenly and pointed to the right. "Oh, dear God, LOOK!" Arjay turned her head and looked out the window. A little girl about six years old was crawling on her stomach on the sidewalk leading to the front door of her house. Vines had invaded the yard and were wrapped around both of her legs, pulling her away from the door. A woman, probably the child’s Mother, was on the porch desperately trying to cut through the kudzu with a kitchen knife to reach her daughter.

Chris slammed on the brakes causing the car to slide on the wet kudzu on the roadway. She reached for the door handle. Arjay grabbed her arm. "Stay here. I’ll get them out of this."

"Be careful," Chris warned.

Arjay nodded and hurriedly got out of the car. She swung her bowie knife like a wild woman, slicing through the kudzu to get to the child. The little girl was on her back now, screaming and flailing her arms and trying to kick her legs free. It was probably the fast movement of her arms that kept the kudzu from getting a good grip.

"GET INSIDE!," Arjay shouted to the Mother, as she hacked and slashed at the vines around the girls legs. They had imbedded in her skin, but her throat was intact, probably due to being face down for most of the time. Arjay pulled her up into her strong arms and the hysterical child threw her arms around her neck. "I got ya’," she said, breathing hard. "You’re gonna be okay."

The woman in the doorway had kept the way as clear as she could, and Arjay handed the child into her waiting arms. The child had stopped screaming, but she was crying. Her Mother was also crying and just kept repeating, "Susie! Susie!" She focused her eyes on Arjay. "Bless you," she said.

Arjay smiled and nodded. She had done good. She had made a difference in a someone’s life tonight: a stranger she had never met. "Feels good, doesn’t it?" asked the Voice. "Like the old days."

"Yeah," Arjay said, ducking and hacking and slashing at the kudzu to get back to Chris.

When she got back into the car, Chris’s arms flew around her neck. "I’m so glad you’re okay!"

"Well, it’s good to see you, too," she said, returning the hug.

"Thank you for saving Susie."

"She helped," Arjay said shyly. "Smart kid." Suddenly everything around them went dark. The fire sirens stopped. "It got the transformers." Arjay’s voice quivered. This was a nightmare that just kept getting worse.

Chris flipped on the high beams. "We’re going to the I-Hop!" she announced.

"Ooohh…I want blueberry pancakes."

Arjay’s attempt at humor actually made Chris laugh despite the desperate situation they were in. "Arjay, it’s one of the highest spots. We can see the town from there." Arjay didn’t ask why they would want to, even if they could what with the darkness surrounding them.

It was only a little more than a mile to the deserted parking lot of the dark I-Hop. The hill that it sat on was fairly high and the kudzu was still at the bottom. Chris parked where they could see the road running back into town. There was no more moving traffic. Deserted cars had littered the roads and blocked the highway. And they knew beneath the sea of green were friends and strangers who would not be going home tonight.

Chris pushed a button on the dashboard and the red lights atop the patrol car came to life and began to spin. "Maybe somebody in town will see it and know that I didn’t leave them," she said getting out of the car.

Arjay got out too, and stood beside Chris as she gazed into the darkness. "You know something, Deputy Barnes?"

"What?" she asked without moving.

"This is one helluva first date!"

Chris looked up at the tall woman and managed a smile. "I couldn’t do this without you, Arjay."

"Come here," Arjay said, and Chris fell into her arms. They just held on to each other in a warm embrace. Chris buried her face against Arjay’s chest finding so much comfort and solace in her arms. Arjay rested her chin on top of the blonde head. "I never thought I could ever love again," she thought.

"Can you face losing her, too?" asked the Voice in her head.

"It will be different this time," Arjay answered in thought.

"How so?" the Voice inquired.

"This time…I go with her."

"Ah, I see. Always and forever." The Voice understood.

Arjay smiled and tightened her arms around Chris. She kept her eyes on the dark town and the edge of the parking lot. It wouldn’t be long before the kudzu made its way up the hill. It wouldn’t be long before…what was that? Arjay blinked. Flashlights? No…too bright. Too many. She shook Chris. "LOOK!"

Chris raised her head. "What?" She turned her head. "What is it?" She squinted. "Arjay…those are…headlights!"

"They’re coming this way."

Chris jumped up and down with glee. "It’s people from town! They saw us! They saw us!" She flew into Arjay’s arms and the tall woman hugged her tightly. Suddenly Chris pushed away. "Oh, God! We warned them to stay inside. The kudzu. They won’t be safe here! What was I thinking?" She ran her hands through her hair. "I’m luring them to their death!"

"No, stop it! They aren’t stupid. It’s safer here for now than in town."

"What happens when…"

"Let’s handle one thing at a time." Arjay forced her tone of voice to sound calm. She had to keep Chris from spinning out of control. "We’re in this together, remember."

Chris’s eyes locked deep into her soul. "Always and forever?"

Arjay was surprised by the question, but the answer was easy. "Always and forever."

The I-Hop parking lot was nearly filled with vehicles. "Keep your headlights on!," Arjay hollered through cupped hands. It would drain the batteries, but give them good light and provide a beacon for anyone still needing to escape from below. Word spread and engines were shut down while the headlights still lit up the night.

People of all ages began to mill around. Most looked dazed and confused. Some were cut and bleeding. Many were armed with shotguns, knives, rakes, hoes, even brooms. Arjay realized these people were frightened and could potentially be very dangerous if panic overtook them.

"Chris," she urged, "get on the PA. They know you. Talk to them."

Chris nodded, reached into the car and pulled out the mike. She collected her thoughts as best she could, pressed the button and said, "This is Deputy Sheriff Chris Barnes. I’m real glad to see ya’ll here."

"Where’s the Sheriff?" someone shouted.

"Joe is dead." She swallowed hard. "Larry, too."

People began yelling from every direction. "What’s going on?"

"Is it from outer space?"

"People are dead!"

"Ya gotta stop it!"

"Is it the end of the world?"

"Where did it come from?"

"My wife is dead!"

"What are ya gonna do about this?"

The crowd was angry. Chris clicked off the mike and looked at Arjay. "What do I tell them?"

Arjay couldn’t think of anything except, "The truth."

Chris took a deep breath and raised the mike to her mouth. "You all know what this stuff is. It’s kudzu."

"It’s alive! It moves!" a voice boomed.

"Yes, and it’s killing for blood. First the animals…and now us." As Chris spoke, Arjay saw her tired body grow straighter and her voice grow more confident.

"Why?" shouted a woman from the crowd. "How did this happen?"

"I don’t know," Chris admitted. "And I don’t know how to stop it either. Phone lines are down. We’re cut off from help."

"I say we all head out of town NOW!"

Chris raised her hand. "Everyone! Listen! There’s no guarantee this isn’t happening all over."

"You’re Sheriff now. What are you gonna do?"

"Yeah…tell us what to do!"

"Hell…she don’t know nothin’!"

The crowd swelled with angry voices. Questions and comments overlapped. Chris was losing control. The people of Canfield were looking to her for answers. She didn’t have any. Nothing in her training---hell, nothing in her life---had ever prepared her for something like this.

"Let me try," Arjay said, calmly taking the mike from Chris. She didn’t know what to do either, but she wasn’t going to stand there and watch Chris crumble or let these people tear her apart. "People, listen…please." The crowd ignored her. Voices just got louder. She had had enough. "WILL ALL OF YOU SHUT THE HELL UP AND LISTEN!" Her voice boomed out through the PA system.

The noise dropped sharply. "Who the hell are you?" drawled a man from the back of the crowd.

"That there’s Kerrigan---the dogcatcher," someone answered, and people began to laugh and make barking sounds.

The hair stood up on the back of Arjay’s neck. "Yeah, I’m Kerrigan the dogcatcher. And I don’t care if you think it’s funny or if I’m some Yankee bitch! But I’ve just spent five hours fighting these fuckin’ weeds, and I’m not in a good mood so SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!"

The crowd became nearly silent. Arjay looked at Chris and made a motion for her to take the microphone, but Chris said, "Keep talking. You got ‘em now."

Arjay had their attention, but she wasn’t at all sure what to tell them. "It can be cut. It’s afraid of fire, but it’s too wet to burn."

"Are we safe here?"

Arjay wasn’t about to lie and shook her head. "No. It’s coming…eventually. But we can hold it off. At least for awhile. Maybe until help comes."

"How?"

"Yeah, how?"

"You said nobody knows we’re in trouble. How we gonna get help?"

"What are we supposed to do?"

She bit her lip thinking quickly. She was hoping her Voice would give her some advice, but it wasn’t helping. "You pick a great time to leave me on my own!" she thought. "Okay." She had an idea. It might not work, but at least it would give the crowd something to do. "We need to pull the cars around the edge of the parking lot. Make a barrier. Then all you people close ranks in the center. When it comes up the hill…when it breaks through…Deputy Barnes and I will shoot the gas tanks of the cars."

"You ain’t blowin’ up my car!"

"You said it wouldn’t burn!"

"Covered in gas it will. Anyone else here against the idea?" Arjay asked. "Or if you’ve got a better idea, let me know."

"How we gonna get away?"

"I got my wife and kids in the car!"

"So my car blows up and I’m stuck here to die anyway? That’s fuckin’ stupid!"

Chris grabbed the mike from Arjay. "If you want to go, go now. I don’t know if you’ll make it out of town, but good luck to you. I say this is our last stand. Maybe we’ll make it here, maybe we won’t. But I think Canfield should go out fighting and I…" she looked at Arjay, "we are prepared to stay here."

The crowd talked among themselves. There were some angry voices, some crying, but mostly staying as calm as possible. Several dozen vehicles drove out of the parking lot and down the hill into the unknown. Those who remained watched silently as they drove into the darkness.

Someone suddenly shouted, "LET’S GET THEM WAGONS IN A CIRCLE, PEOPLE!"

Chris recognized the voice. "Doug Ferris, would that be you?" she hollered.

The Fire Chief shined a flashlight on his face. "Yes Ma’am. Permission to help lead the troops, Sheriff."

Chris winced at the new title that seemed to have been thrust upon her, but she knew she had to accept the role for now. "Permission granted." She felt a hand on her good shoulder and looked up at Arjay who smiled and nodded. It was a crazy plan, but now they had help. And it was better than doing nothing at all.

Arjay, Chris, and Doug helped to direct nearly a hundred cars, trucks, vans, and SUVs around the perimeter of the I-Hop parking lot. A few more arrived and filled in the gaps. It looked like some sort of odd train or a traffic jam. The vehicles were just sitting there, each with its headlights illuminating the one in front. Several people had arrived with cans of gasoline in their trunks, and it was sparingly splashed down the rim of the asphalt to the hillside below.

Arjay had used a shovel to smash the glass in the door of the restaurant, and ordered the women and children inside. It was dark in there, so a few of the new cars were pulled up to the I-Hops windows with headlights shining inside. The broken front door was covered from the inside by one of the tables. They were fairly safe in there. They had cover and water and whatever food that wouldn’t spoil in the August heat.

Seventy-eight men all armed with some sort of weapon, or at least an implement that could be used as one, spread out around the parking lot. Chris and Arjay walked the area together talking to the men, trying to keep spirits up, listening to the occasional scream off in the distance, hearing the soft rustling shuffling sound of the kudzu.

"Even if we can hold it off for awhile, it won’t stop it," Chris said quietly.

Arjay nodded. "I know. But like you said…it’s better than doing nothing at all." She looked at Chris. "How’s your shoulder?"

"It’s alright." She rubbed her eyes with her thumb and index finger. "I thought I was tired before. I didn’t know what tired was."

"Yeah. Me, too." Arjay checked her watch. "It’s almost 3:00."

"About three hours till sunrise. At least then we can see what we’re fighting."

"Don’t know if that’s gonna be a good thing or not," Arjay said, remembering the jungle where they had found Joe and Larry.

"Hey, Mizzz Kerrigan," called a deep southern voice from behind. Both women turned to see a tall thin man who had to be in his 80s walking slowly toward them. "Saw ya’ don’t have no gun." He slowly pulled a pistol from his waistband and held it out to her. "Take this’un." It was a Browning Buck Mark semi-automatic with a blue frame and a carved black walnut grip.

Arjay balked. "I can’t." It wasn’t her fear anymore. The past hours had pretty much replaced her gun fear with new ones. She just couldn’t accept anything so beautiful, especially from someone she didn’t even know.

"Want you ta’ have it," he insisted, pressing the gun into the palm of her hand gently. "You a Yankee alright…but you’re a good’un." He handed her two extra full clips and a large box of ammo. "Just hope this’ll be enough."

Arjay smiled and accepted the gift. "Thank you, Mr.…?"

"I’m Duane," he drawled, "Just Duane. See ya’ around." And he walked away slowly and disappeared into the throng of men.

Arjay looked at the beautiful pistol, checked the safety and tucked it into her belt. "When I came down here," she said to Chris as she put the clips in her pants pockets and filled her shirt pockets with loose shells, "I was trying to escape from people. I was trying to escape from life." She looked out at the men: young, middle-aged, old. "I called for backup…" her voice cracked, "and my ‘brothers’ ignored us. They let Beth die." She took a deep breath. "These people don’t even know me. Why?"

"Why what?" Chris asked curiously.

"Why do they care?"

Chris entwined her arm through Arjays. "That’s the way people are down here, Honey. We care. We take care of our own."

They continued walking, but Arjay had to ask, "Did you just call me ‘Honey’?"

Chris smiled. "Guess I did. That okay?"

Arjay returned the smile. "Yeah. I like your accent."

"What ‘akk-cent’," she joked. Chris’s arm moved down till her hand found the large strong hand that she wanted. The hands joined and their fingers entwined. They hadn’t stopped walking. Nothing was said. It didn’t need to be.

From the right, voices began to shout. "IT’S COMING!"

From the left. "OVER HERE!"

From all directions. "IT’S UNDER THE CAR!"

"COMMIN’ OVER THAT TRUCK!"

"WATCH OUT!"

"GIT BACK!"

"GAWD…IT’S ALL ‘ROUND US!"

It was true. The headlights revealed that the kudzu had crested the hill. Tall vines slithered over the barrier of the vehicles while others snaked slowly beneath them. It all moved slowly. It seemed to sense that there was no rush. Its prey was trapped. Plenty of warm, fresh blood here.

"NO!" Chris shouted as a young man ran toward the vines wildly swinging an axe. Pieces of green went flying left and right, but his efforts were not enough. Vines whipped around his arms and legs with sudden lightning speed. Large leaves sliced the air until his throat was cut. He dropped the axe and clutched his throat and toppled into the kudzu. Vines poked and pierced his bare arms, legs and face, clinging like dozens of leeches, sucking at his still twitching body. There was no hope to save him.

Chris pulled her revolver out of its holster and yelled, "Let’s BBQ some greens, Arjay!"

"I’ll take the other side," Kerrigan said, breaking into a run to the opposite end of the parking lot.

Chris raised her weapon and fired at the underbelly of an SUV. The gas tank exploded, sending up a fireball that engulfed the vehicle. Pieces of flaming metal flew into the air. People ran and ducked to avoid it. The kudzu writhed in the inferno. Chris skipped one vehicle and went on to the next.

Arjay held the pistol with its hand carved stock in her right hand. It had a good feel. A nice weight. She checked to make sure the clip was full, released the safety and raised her arm. She fired one shot and blew out a rear tire. The recoil was more forceful than she had remembered. She realized her hand was shaking. "You can do this," the Voice in her head told her.

"I’m trying!" she said aloud. "I’m trying, dammit!"

"You’re tired. You’re scared. We’re probably going to die tonight in a pile of weeds…"

"Oh, thanks for that news!" she thought.

"But let’s go down fighting, okay?"

"You’re right," Arjay said.

"I always am," the Voice said calmly.

"Don’t be a smart ass!" Arjay aimed again, squeezed the trigger and her arm jerked, but the gas tank exploded. She was too close, however, and the force of the blast blew her backward onto the asphalt on her ass.

A man was immediately at her side. "You alright, Ma’am?" he asked, touching her arm gently.

Arjay looked into his eyes. Such kind old eyes and a face etched with worry and concern. "Never been better," she said, allowing his strong arms to help her to her feet. "Go back with the others."

He shook his head. "I got a sickle." He reached down and picked up the long curved farm implement. "I’m stayin’ here to watch yer back." Time was wasting and Arjay wasn’t going to spend it arguing. She skipped a car and took another shot. Direct hit! "Nice shootin’, ma’am!" he whooped.

"Name’s Arjay," she said, taking aim on a pickup truck.

"Henry," he said as he paced the area, keeping his eyes scanning for vines.

Arjay gently squeezed the trigger and the fireball plumed skyward. "Nice to meet you, Henry." She saw him dash to her right and swing the sickle. At least five large vines flew in the air. She hadn’t even seen them approaching. "Come see me when this is over, Henry," she said.

He grinned. "Yes Ma’am…Arjay. Like ya’ to meet my family."

"I hope we get that chance," she thought as she continued along the barricade of vehicles.

It took awhile before the gas and flames had ignited all the vehicles around the parking lot. By shooting every other one, Chris and Arjay were able to create delayed explosions. The fire kept burning and the kudzu was held at bay. It wouldn’t last forever and once again the kudzu would be on the move. And this time, there would be no stopping it.

Chris and Arjay sat on the hood of the patrol car. The battery had died and the lights were out. Doug had brought them some much needed bottles of water from inside the I-Hop. Arjay lay back against the windshield and took a big swig of water. "Wish this was a beer…or ten."

"How long do you think we’ve got?" Chris asked.

Arjay’s eyes scanned the parking lot. "Till the fires go out."

Chris finished her bottle of water and tossed it far out onto the pavement. "Did you really mean what you said?"

"You just littered!" Arjay gasped in mock shock. "Isn’t that like a $500 fine down here?"

"So I’ll write myself a ticket when this is all over!" She turned to face Arjay. "Did you" She paused. "About loving me? I need to know. Cause I meant it."

There was such a look of intensity in her green eyes that Arjay didn’t want to waste time with silly banter. "I mean everything I say," she said, slipping her hand around the back of Chris’s neck. She gently pulled her face close. Chris closed her eyes and wet her lips with just the tip of her tongue. Arjay felt her heart flutter. She could feel her breath on her own lips.

"IT’S BREAKING THROUGH!" someone screamed.

"IT’S COMING!"

"WHAT DO WE DO?"

The two women scurried to their feet on the hood of the car. In the light of the full moon and the waning fires, they could see the kudzu slithering, slinking, building deeper. Large leaves were swinging on thick vines that stood over ten feet off the ground like alien snakes.

"How can they be so long!" Arjay wondered as Chris cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "EVERYBODY INTO THE I-HOP!"

Henry raised his sickle. "Ya’all need us here." And the crowd joined in shouting in agreement.

Arjay pointed to the restaurant. "Your families need you in there! You don’t have to die out here! Run…NOW!"

There was a scream from the outer edge of the group of men. Someone was down. Someone was being attacked. Someone was being cut to shreds and drained of blood by a plant. A weed! There was panic. It was unavoidable now. Everyone was tired and scared. They had exhausted their options.

Arjay and Chris watched as the men fought their way to the I-Hop. At best inside they would have some food and water and be able to hold out for awhile longer with their friends and families. All over Canfield, the kudzu would wait. And eventually, it would win.

Arjay was staring off in the direction of the highway out of town, her hands on her slim hips. Chris tugged her arm. "Let’s go inside, Arjay." When she didn’t answer, she shook her arm hard. "Hey! Case you haven’t noticed…we need to go!"

Arjay raised her free arm and pointed. "What do you see out there?"

"Arjay, please!" she pleaded. "I don’t want to die out here!"

"LOOK!" she demanded.

Chris squinted in the darkness. Her breath caught in her chest. "Lights!" she gasped.

Arjay nodded. "Headlights. And they’re moving. They’re coming this way. And listen. Hear it? It’s a helicopter."

They watched as the sound of the whump, whump, whump came closer and powerful searchlights scoured the ground. It was a military chopper: an HH-3E twin engine combat rescue helicopter. Chris felt something oddly familiar touch her leg, but before she could even look down, her feet were yanked out from under her and she was on her back on the hood of the patrol car. The thick green vine was snaking its way obscenely up her leg and beneath her shorts.

Arjay already had her knife out and sliced through the wet wine so hard the blade struck the metal hood and sparked. Chris scrambled to her feet as the dead vine uncurled from her leg, blood dribbling from the cut end. She tore at it and tossed it onto the ground. "I’m really sick of this!" she spat.

The chopper was almost over the parking lot. One of the spotlights was on them. The light was so bright. The rotary blades were loud and the wind they produced was blowing the vines back. It was also making it hard for Arjay and Chris to keep their balance on the car hood. Chris dropped to her knees and Arjay crouched. They held on to each others arms for support.

A ladder tumbled out of one of the open doors of the chopper. When it swung close enough, Arjay grabbed it and motioned for Chris to go up. She nodded and began to climb. She felt the butterfly bandages on her shoulder tear and felt warm blood on her skin, but she kept pulling herself upward. Arjay was right behind her. She was so tired that her arms felt like they were pulling dead weight, even though her legs were pushing her body. The muscles in her arms and legs felt like they were on fire.

Halfway up, they saw men in fatigues and heavy gloves and boots climbing down other ladders. Strapped to their backs were box-like contraptions with long metal sprayer type attachments. Several of the soldiers jumped the last few feet to the parking lot writhing with kudzu and immediately ignited the flamethrowers. The powerful jets of flame not only succeeded in igniting the kudzu, but quickly cleared areas for them to stand.

Chris had been pulled up into the helicopter by strong arms and hands. Arjay would have normally refused, but she was more than willing to have help to get inside. A large barrel-chested man in green with Captain’s bars on the collar of his shirt was already addressing Chris as Arjay got to her feet. "If it wasn’t for that ring of fire, we’d have never found you. Are you the Sheriff here?"

Chris opened her mouth to answer, but a man wearing a civilian suit with a USDA badge attached to his lapel appeared beside the Captain. "Where’s Sheriff Griggs?" he asked urgently.

"Dead," she replied. "I’m Deputy Sheriff Chris Barnes." She pointed to Arjay. "This is…."

"You’re Kerrigan," he said. "You were with Griggs when we came for the cows."

Arjay nodded. "Yes, Sir."

He reached out and shook her hand and then Chris’s hand. "George Wilson. It took longer than I’d hoped for my guys to figure this out. I tried to call you when I got the results back. I tried everything. Couldn’t get through. I knew it was gonna be bad, but we had a helluva time convincing anybody that you had killer weeds."

"We’re just glad you did," Arjay said.

"Do you know what caused it?" Chris asked.

The man from the Department of Agriculture shook his head. "Samples show a strong displacement of water with blood in the stems. And the ability to sense it in living things."

"Us," Chris said, nodding.

"And anything else. Must have started small so nobody noticed and worked its way up the food chain."

"But it’s a weed. A plant," Arjay said.

"We found pieces broke off in the cows. The leaves developed sharp thin cutting edges. And the tips are like needles to pierce the skin."

Chris shivered. "And suck out the blood like straws."

"How does it grow and move so fast?" Arjay asked. "What do we blame? Global warming? The hole in the damn ozone layer? Seed pods from outer space?"

"We don’t know the hows or whys yet. I’ve got teams working on it. Hopefully we can figure it out before it spreads somewhere else."

"It senses movement and sound, too," Chris added. "And believe it or not, it shows fear. It’s afraid of fire." She ran her hand through her hair, "God, I sound like I’m crazy."

George Wilson shook his head. "You’re not. And you’ve got me and a whole lot of people working to get this under control."

The Captain pointed outside. "I’ve got people coming in from all sides of Canfield. We’ll clear the roads and yards, and check buildings and homes. Try to keep it contained to wooded areas. We’ve set up a temporary morgue with refrigeration trailers, and an evacuation center at the high school just outside of town in Shelby."

"There are people in the I-Hop that could really use your help to get to safety," Arjay said pointing out to the restaurant.

"Thought as much. Trucks will be here soon as the parking lot is safe." He saw blood on Chris’s shirt. "Miss, you need a medic." Lifting a mike from the wall of the chopper, he said, "Medic…forward…stat!"

George Wilson motioned to the seats in the helicopter. "Why don’t you two sit down?"

Arjay sat on the floor by the door. "I need to see." Chris dropped down next to her and lay her head against her shoulder. The Captain looked at Wilson, who just shrugged. A young, sandy-haired man in green worked on Chris’s shoulder. She was too tired to feel the pain as he cleaned, stitched and dressed the wound. Arjay kept her eyes forward but gripped Chris’s hand and smiled when the small fingers tightened around her own.

The troops on the ground made short work of the kudzu in the parking lot. Trucks advanced up the highway and it seemed as if there were hundreds of bursts of flame in all directions. After awhile, Arjay spoke. "You won’t kill it, you know."

The man with the USDA badge nodded. "I know. Roots go too deep. After we clear the roads and as much as we can over ground, and make sure everybody is safe, we’ve got forces ready to go in with Tordon."

"What the hell is that?" Chris asked, pulling her shirt on over the gauze bandage binding her shoulder. She winced and was glad to feel the pain. She was alive.

"Weed killer," George Wilson answered. "Actually vegetation killer. Right now it’s the most powerful thing we’ve got."

Chris frowned. "It’ll kill everything except the kudzu, right?"

"You’ll lose some trees; pines and birch mostly. And grasses where its sprayed. It’ll keep the kudzu under control at least. We’ll put up a wide enough barrier to keep it out of town."

Arjay snorted. "Great trade-off. Lose the pretty stuff and just control the killer. Kind of like letting the murderer go free."

George Wilson shrugged. "It’s the best we can do for now."

The sun was coming up over the horizon. A convoy of military vehicles rolled up the hill into the parking lot, bulldozing its way through the remains of the burned out cars, trucks and SUVs that had once belonged to the citizens of Canfield. "We’ll fly you to the evac center," said the Captain.

"No sir," said Chris, shaking her head. "We’re staying here for now." She looked to Arjay for approval. "Right?"

Arjay nodded. "Right. We want to make sure these people are okay and then drive through town."

The Captain got on the radio again. "Lieutenant, take us down as close as you can to the roof of the car they were on." The chopper slowly descended until it was perched at just the right height where Chris and Arjay could almost step out onto the roof of the patrol car. "Deputy Barnes," the Captain shouted over the noise of the rotors, "You’ll have a jeep waiting for you to use. My troops will help you any way they can. You and Kerrigan did a helluva job!" He offered a salute. "You saved a lot of lives."

Chris returned the gesture. "Thank you, Sir."

"And thank you Mr. Wilson, for sounding the alarm," Arjay added.

"We’ll be in touch soon," George Wilson replied with a wave of his hand.

Arjay slid down from the patrol car to the ground, ignoring the crispy sound of burned kudzu beneath her boots. Chris came down into her waiting arms and they covered their ears as the chopper lifted, throttled up, and flew off quickly.

They turned their attention to the men, women and children from the I-Hop. They were boarding olive green transport trucks. Many waved and hollered their thanks to the two women. The sun was rising quickly now, and all the devastation of the night was becoming clearly visible.

Arjay Kerrigan stood in the parking lot that once was home to her favorite I-Hop and gazed down the highway with sad blue eyes at the smoldering and still burning landscape of Canfield, North Carolina. Ignoring the dried blood and grime on her hands and arms, she brushed her black hair back off her sweaty forehead.

"Do you think it’ll ever be over? Will our town ever be the same again?" asked the much shorter but equally disheveled blonde at her side. Arjay kept her eyes on the billowing acrid smoke and silently grasped the woman’s small hand gently in her larger one. Would anything ever be the same again.

"Excuse me, Ma’am," said a voice from behind. They turned to see a young woman in uniform holding a phone in her hand. "Captain Curtis wants to speak to you both. Just press this button."

Arjay took the phone and tapped the button. "Hello," she said holding her head down so Chris could put her ear close to the receiver too. "We’re here, Captain."

"We just got a call. Thought you’d like to know. Other places in North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi have all reported massive outbreaks of kudzu." He paused. "It’s the same as here."

They looked at each other. "Casualties?" asked Chris.

There was a long pause this time, and then the Captain replied somberly, "Many."

"Thanks for telling us," Arjay handed the phone back to the soldier, who nodded and walked back towards the I-Hop. Chris shuddered and Arjay folded her arms around her. "I love you," she said, nuzzling her cheek in Chris’s hair.

Chris looked up into her beautiful blue eyes. "I’m glad…cause I love you right back."

"What do you want to do? Help finish evacuating? Head out to another town or state to help out?"

"You know, even the Tordon won’t kill it all."

"Will anything?"

Chris thought a moment and replied, "Winter…maybe."

Arjay sighed. "Guess we’ll have to pray for an early frost."

"What about next summer?"

"Hopefully there’ll be a next summer," Arjay said, "And all we’ll have to deal with is the rain, the cicadas, the tree frogs, and the damn mosquitoes." She chuckled. "I’ll be looking forward to that."

Chris put her good arm around Arjay’s neck and pulled her head down. Their lips touched and softened. It wasn’t a kiss filled with heated passion or lust. It was one sealing their love and devotion and gratitude for any and all time they could be together.

"Let’s go to your house," Chris said, touching her cheek, "and if it hasn’t been eaten by kudzu we’ll grab your clothes, Beth’s picture, and the beer in your fridge."

"And then what?" Arjay asked, taking hold of her hand.

"We get on the highway…it’s the long way on that road to Platt Street, but the troops will probably have it cleared of kudzu first."

"You’re going to let me stay at your place?" Arjay asked as they began walking hand in hand across the parking lot filled with burned kudzu and fragments of twisted metal.

Chris tightened her grip on her hand. "We’re going home. And we’re going to face whatever else happens here in Canfield together." She said as they approached the waiting jeep. Arjay smiled.

In many more ways than one---good and bad---nothing would ever be the same again.

KUDZU by Rose Corsaro. July 24, 2007