After the light vanished, there was silence. Then rage. He could hear them smashing down the deadfalls, throwing objects against the house. They broke what few windows remained. But none of them ever entered the house. Ry eventually left the bathroom, almost basking in the relative freshness of the open room, corpse aside.

Inside was dark and cool now. His fingers ached with cold and Ry paced the room, walking around the bed and trying not to see the body laying there. Eventually, he sat in a corner, bringing his knees up to his chest and trying to conserve as much heat as possible.

When the morning came, he was going to escape. He considered leaving now, and more than once went to the door. But he remembered how active they were at night, how their eyes glowed. The night was an advantage to them. He would need to wait for the sun to rise. He could still hear them out there, howling and screaming.

Through the broken window and illuminated by the moonlight, he saw the piles of dead tree limbs around the lawn, and the woods beyond it. The apes were sitting down. They chittered to each other.

To the left, he could see where the land dipped into a creek. He could slip out fast, run to the creek, and follow it back. Dogs had a hard time tracking anything that went through the water, maybe the apes would be just as confused.

Either that, or starving in this room. Even sharing the space with the body of his former landlord didn't hold back the hunger pangs. He felt lightheaded, exhausted. He started to go through dresser drawers and in a bedside table he found a small penlight. He clicked it on, and shined it on the floor. He started to gather up bits of journal, pieces of the Jackson's life work. The pages were torn and stained. They went back years, some of the entries in pencil were faded.

One snippet simply said: "Wood knocking is bullshit? I keep trying, no response. UPDATE: they are throwing sticks at the house. Progress?

Another said: They only throw rocks at the bathroom window when I am using the bathroom. Are they joking with me? Are they perverts? Time will tell.

Ry chuckled and kept grabbing up pages to read in the tiny light. He found a longer section.

It seems crazy to give it up. Sell the gas station and start the project. But I'm never going to have what my parents had. I'm barely making it as it is. The wealth they had? All of it was an aberration, an open window the rich didn't realize they left open, and then closed. I don't have it as bad as the ones coming up do, but Jesus.

No fucking kidding, Ry thought. Around him it seemed everything in the country starved. No money to feed kids lunch. No money for schools. Crumbling roads and bridges. No money for anything. But every year, the world crumbled a little more, all to feed a few. Every billionaire is another lost rural hospital. Another closed factory. Insatiable dragons who know nothing but hoarding gold. In legends, the heroes would slay the dragons. Now, they hand over their gold. Because who knows, they may one day have their own hoards.

Ry found another entry.

I'm happy. I am. My work has meaning, but I've also learned to slow down. You take in a sunrise without itching for a phone to check on emails or catch up. You can learn to let time pass instead of killing every available second. Hell, even now, with The Leader watching me like a hawk, it's better than before. How weird. I'm alive goddamn it, not just a back to be broken, hands to be overworked. I'm me, and I owe nothing to no one.

You're also dead now, Ry thought. He glanced at another scrap, a thin one with just a couple of sentences scrawled on it.

I'm giving them a voice, and they're giving me a chance to use mine.

The sun rose, he tossed the penlight and kicked at a few of the papers. He watched the light entering the shattered window. Now or never, he supposed. I'm glad you felt like you lived, Jackson. Would you change it? Did the old life seem a littler rosier as they ripped your head off? I guess paradise isn't without its sacrifices.

Ry stood and walked to the window. Outside he could see dew almost sparkling in the light, a low roll of fog on the ground, quickly disappointing. He took a breath, ready to run.

"RY!"

Erin! She was calling him. It sounded like she just entered the front of the house. He ran out of the room. He had to stop her from yelling, they could sneak away. There was still time.

"RY!"

Ry reached the open front door and burst out, only for the wind to be knocked from him. He crumpled on the ground and rolled over. He gagged on their scent, as the creatures surrounded him, looking down on him and smiling. Some laughed the mimic laugh, some sounded like Jackson. One called out his name in Erin's voice.

What did that mean? Did they find her? Is it too late?

The buzzing filled his head, so loud he cried out and hit his head to dislodge the sound. The Leader leaned down to him.

"Human. Die"

One of the creatures took his foot in its hand and started dragging him to the front yard. The rest laughed. They leapt and danced.