I am never bringing Jim his lunch again. Ever.  

He’d just have to starve the next time he neglected to feed himself, and after this debacle, she was happy to let him. Although, truth be told, this situation was a bit extreme, even for them. 

Barb squeezed her eyes shut as the creepy fox-woman rubbed the smelly salve made of stuff scraped off a forest floor into the gash on her arm. The initial touch of the ointment had burned like fire, but at present it had faded to a dull ache.  

It was actually helping.  

Not that she would admit it out loud. 

The human girl, Jenny, talked a mile a minute. Nonstop. Mostly about absurdities, and her comfort level with the talking fox-people indicated that she didn’t feel threatened by them. 

The girl rambled about something else now, and the inane babble blended into the background of sounds from inside the hut and outside in the village.  

Jim’s experiment wasn’t supposed do this—whatever this was. He’d said it would allow them to go from San Francisco to Long Beach in the blink of an eye.  

The tingling pain in her left hand and fingers wouldn’t let her forget that the shoulder was out of socket. Since it had come out the first time, it just wouldn’t stay put. She’d get it back in eventually, but that would require a quiet room and solitude. It always hurt and showing that amount of pain to anyone wasn’t something she did.  

A panicked shriek pierced the air, and both Jenny and the Josharon female whirled in shock and concern. 

“What was that?” Barb grabbed her aching shoulder.  

Jenny flailed as she bolted toward the door, her layers of pastel skirts swishing around her legs. But she came to a silent halt at the door, staring outside.  

Barb stood up and limped to where the girl stood, peering outside along with her, and her mouth dropped open.  

At the center of the village, a portal much like the one that had brought her to this world, swirled and churned with a mouthful of shadow and lightning. And a creature was trying to crawl out of it.  

Barb would have called the Josharons creatures when she first saw them—but this? This was something else. Something wrong. Malformed. Dark. Its mottled skin was blueish purple and rubbery. It had six legs, and each leg had at least four joints. It had no visible eyes in its triangular head, but its mouth hung open displaying multiple rows of needle-like teeth.  

As it fell out of the portal, its muscular tail beat the dirt with prehensile agility, spikes stabbing into the earth.  

“What is that?” Barb gasped. 

“I don’t know.” Jenny clutched her hands in the shawl around her shoulders. “I have no idea what it is.” She gulped and took a slow breath. “Maybe it’s friendly.” 

“Friendly?” 

“Maybe it just looks horrifying.”  

Barb groaned. “You’re an optimist, aren’t you? I hate optimists.” 

“Is that an eye doctor? Why do you hate eye doctors?” 

Barb hung her head and reached her good arm toward the shoulder holster she always wore. But her trusty Glock wasn’t there.  

She shut her eyes.  

It’s my day off. I left it in my locker. She clenched her jaw. Note to self. Bring your gun when you bring Jim lunch—especially when he’s playing with magic portals to other dimensions. 

Barb grabbed Jenny by the shoulder and pulled her back into the hut. 

“What are you doing?” 

Barb ignored her and stepped outside, staring at the creature. It lay in the dirt, its chest heaving as it sprawled in the dust and thrashed. She held her dislocated arm close and knelt to pick up a long sharp stick from the ground.  

From the corner of her eye, she noted movement around the village. The Josharons. The ones she’d been fighting earlier all had returned with their staffs and spears and regarded the creature in the dirt with wary concern. 

The brown-furred Josharon Jenny had called Tahir sidestepped closer to her and nodded at her.  

“Human.” 

Barb glanced at him. 

“Is this a creature from your world?” 

“No,” Barb said. “I don’t know what this is.” 

Tahir flicked three bushy tails behind him. Barb blinked for a moment before it registered that all the Josharons had more than one tail. Most had two. Tahir seemed to be the only one with three. 

Barb shook herself and redoubled her grip on the stick. “Any chance it’s a vegetarian?”  

Tahir regarded her with surprise on his fox-like face before his snout parted in a smirk. “With teeth like that? Unlikely.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Barb smirked back. 

Tahir chuckled.  

Barb scoffed and approached the creature, Tahir falling into step beside her. How strange. Just like that and Tahir, who had been so aggressive before, seemed willing to follow her into danger.  

So apparently Jenny was right.  

Barb paused for a moment and glanced back at the Josharon. “Sorry about earlier.” 

Tahir eyed her. “Apology accepted. Had I fallen into your world, I am certain I would have reacted similarly.” The fur around his eyes bunched as he smiled. “You are a mighty warrior.” 

“So I’ve heard.” Barb took another step toward the creature.  

But she paused as it went rigid and slammed its feet into the dirt, rising up on its multi-jointed legs. Two of the legs, which dangled from its chest area, bent and twisted and swiped at the air with long claws. It reared back until it was over six feet tall, flinging its misshapen head in every direction.  

“I don’t like this,” Barb mumbled.  

“Nor do I.” Tahir readied his spear.  

Its tail lifted at its rear, showing sharp spikes studded along both sides.  

Tahir gestured at the Josharons approaching from behind it, motioning that they keep their distance.  

Sniff. 

Sniff, sniff, sniff. 

Barb froze. That sound came from the creature.  

“It’s scenting the air,” Tahir whispered. 

The creature took a long, deep breath and opened its cavernous mouth with a sound somewhere between a snarl and a shriek. Its mouth glistened in the light from the portal.  

More spikes sprouted down the length of its spine and popped out of its legs, and it lowered its head expelling a breath that smelled like decay. And it lunged.  

Tahir tackled Barb around the waist, taking them both to the dirt as the creature charged at them. Two other Josharons hurled spears at the creature, but they skidded off its rubbery skin. It spun and caught the spear-throwers at chest level with one of its arms and flung them like ragdolls into the wooden huts behind them. 

Groaning in pain, Barb got up on her good arm and watched the creature tear into the ranks of the Josharon males that lined up to fight it.  

Tahir gasped something under his breath. Barb wasn’t sure what he’d said, but she agreed with the sound of it.  

“What is it?” she hissed as she got to her feet. “How are your spears not piercing it?” 

Tahir scrambled to his feet and started barking orders. Moments later, the Josharons reappeared with bows and arrows. Barb dove out of the line of sight as the archers released, and a hailstorm of arrows pounded down on top of the creature.  With the same effect as before.  Not one arrowhead broke its skin.  

The creature straightened and turned, scenting the air again, and roared. Its jaw nearly disjointed with the power of the screech. Barb clutched her hands over her ears as the frequency rattled her eardrums.  

Why didn’t I bring my gun? 

Peghra’s hut door flung open, and Jenny strode out into the daylight. She had a bow in one hand and an arrow in the other.  

“Jenny!” Tahir shouted. “What are you doing?” 

“Jenny, no!” Peghra cried from the doorway.  

The little blonde girl nocked the arrow in the bow, took aim, and released. Her arrow streamed through the air as the monster reared back to roar again, and the arrow plunged into its open mouth.  

It choked and stumbled and gagged, legs wobbling and tail thrashing.  

Jenny lowered her bow, suddenly gasping for air. Barb could see the paleness of the girl’s face now. Terrified.  

A cry went up from the Josharons as they renewed their attacks on the creature. Tahir hurled a spear at one of its joints, and the beast toppled over in a heap. It didn’t stay down. It clawed its way back to its feet and screamed again, louder than before.  

Barb limped to where Jenny stood and grabbed her arm. “Let’s get to cover.” 

“We can’t.” Jenny glanced up at her and then back at the fight. “We have to help.” 

“You’re out of arrows. I don’t have my gun.” Barb winced as a jolt of sharp pain traveled up her arm. “And I’m wounded. Not a good formula for victory.” 

Three Josharons flung spears at the creature again, but they skipped off its tough hide. Another barrage of arrows did the same. One of the Josharons whacked the beast’s front left leg with a staff and knocked it sideways, but the creature snapped its leg back into joint and smashed the Josharon into the ground with its tail. 

Jenny turned to her and started to say something, but the girl stopped, her gaze drawn over Barb’s shoulder.  

Barb spun and gasped.  

A horse-drawn wagon had pulled to a stop on the edge of the village. A woman in long, flowing robes and a headscarf held the reins. Seated beside her was a younger woman who looked just like her, and in the back two humans stared in shock at the chaos in the village.  

A teenage girl with golden braids pinned around the crown of her head—and a tall, lanky teenage boy.  

Jim. He’s okay.  

Barb let out the breath she’d been holding. Seeing Jim on his feet and uninjured sapped the adrenaline out of her, and her knees started wobbling. The pain in her shoulder spiked. The village started to spin in her vision.  

Shoot. Focus on the monster. Not Jim. Jim’s okay.  

Too late.  

The relief had already hit her, and her body refused to cooperate. She’d pushed it too far for too long.  

Jenny yelped and caught her before she collapsed. “Hey, whoa.” Jenny supported her around her chest, but Barb’s legs stopped holding her weight.  

Thumping footsteps pounded on the ground, the long awkward gait of someone too clumsy to run but too loyal to know better. 

“Barb!”  

And then his arms had her, gathered her close in a trembling embrace.  

“Hey, kid,” Barb said, her voice wobbling.  

“Barb, are you okay? Please say you’re okay.” 

“I’ve been better, Jim.” 

“I thought you were dead.” Jim choked on his words, something between a laugh and a sob. “I thought I’d gotten you killed.” 

“You still might.” Barb patted the side of his face and lifted his chin toward the monster. “Any thoughts on that?” 

“Ew.” 

“Yeah, I had that thought too.” 

Jim turned back to her. “What hurts?”   

“Better to ask what doesn’t hurt.” She offered a smirk in hopes of wiping that worried look off his face.   

It didn’t work.  

“Shoulder?” His gaze focused on her left arm. “It’s out again.”  

Barb sighed. “Why does everyone insist on telling me that? Do you think I haven’t noticed?”  

“Wow. Okay. Grumpy pants.” 

Barb glared at him. “I dropped out of the sky and fell on a rock, Jim. In a village full of talking fox people with sharp, pointy objects. And now there’s an ugly monster that’s probably trying to eat us.” 

He pointed to her shoulder. “And it’s still out?” 

“When would I have had time to put it back, Jim? When the monster was trying to bite my head off?” 

“Here.” He readjusted and began to probe the dislocated joint. “Let’s put it back in now.” 

“Jim,” Barb eyed the monster that was still thrashing the Josharons, “now isn’t a great time.” 

“You’ll be less grumpy.”  

“I’m always grumpy.”  

“I said less grumpy. Not un-grumpy.” His fingertips stabbed into the dislocated joint, feeling where the bone was supposed to be.   

She hissed and grabbed his knee. “Ouch. Well, just make it quick.” 

“You have to calm down first.” 

“Calm down?” Barb glared at him. “There’s a giant monster trying to kill the village full of talking fox-people in the world your experiment dropped us into, and you want me to be calm?” 

Jim rolled his eyes. “How were you born 85?”  

“You’ve got three doctorates, Jim, how are you still six?”  

Jim popped her shoulder back into place, and she shrieked in pain and surprise. Groaning, she cradled the aching joint in her hand and bent over.   

“You’re welcome,” Jim said.  

“I hate you.”  

“No, you don’t.” His hand rested on the middle of her back.  

Barb took slow, deep breaths, trying to keep the initial nausea under control. It wasn’t fading as fast as it usually did, which probably meant she really was concussed. Unsurprising but inconvenient.   

Jenny’s skirts flashed in Barb’s vision as the girl slid to the dirt in front of her. “I heard you scream. Are you okay? Jim, is she okay?” 

“She will be.” Jim’s hand didn’t leave Barb’s lower back.  

Barb lifted her gaze, trying to pretend her eyes weren’t watering, and stared at the monster.  “How do we stop it?” 

Jenny settled next to Barb with a smile. “We don’t have to stop it. Meg’s here now.” 

Barb scowled at the girl and glanced back at the monster, where the two women in robes and the golden-haired girl stood shoulder to shoulder.  

Jenny’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “Now the real fight begins.”