Chapter 2: Chapter One: Way Down Yonder

Helen, Georgia

Friday, March 11, 2022

8:07 AM, Breach Event Alpha +5 min

The hook was baited, the sinker attached, the line cast toward the middle of the Chattahoochie river, and now all Phillip had to do was pull his straw hat down over his long, blonde hair, lay back in his reclining lounge chair, chew his Bubbalishous gum, and wait for a bite. His mom and dad were back at the cabin, probably on their third cup of coffee by now, discussing what it would take to drag him away from his fishing and into the small mountain town that was fashioned like a German village so they could switch from caffeine to margaritas and bratwurst. There was something to be said for a solid half an authentic experience, after all, he thought, rolling his eyes.

He felt the line go taut as something began testing the worm. Phillip sat up, taking the pole firmly in hand and waiting for just the right… There! He yanked back on the pole, the line tightening as the hook set. He gave it a little line, he didn't want his new pole snapping on him like the last one had when he'd underestimated the size of the fish he'd hooked. He began reeling it in slowly, careful to follow the fish as it erratically tried to escape the hook that was now likely set in its lip. His line got shorter and shorter until he dragged a fairly large brim to shore, grabbing it before it could try for another escape attempt.

He carefully removed the hook and placed the fish in the wicker basket he'd brought along to store his catches. He had just sat back down to rebait the hook when movement on the other shoreline caught his eye. He swore he caught a shimmering right along the treeline, just before the roadway that ran from Helen up into the Blue Ridge Mountains. He'd driven to Brasstown Bald that way a few times, rather his dad drove while he grumbled about being pulled away from his fishing and swimming to see the tourist trap at the top of the mountain.

More movement, to his left. Phillip swore something had slipped into the water, and he turned toward it, trying to track the movement. He was under no illusions that the area was totally safe, he'd seen the occasional brown bear, mountain lion, and even a wolfpack cross their property from time to time, and he knew that his 12-year-old body, fast as he prided himself on being, would be able to outrun a hungry predator if he wasn't careful.

Something popped its head out of the water, much closer than he was prepared for it to be. Whatever it was was a fast swimmer, and he slowly stood up, letting his pole drop to the ground as he slowly backed away from the bank of the river. Whatever this was had what looked to be blue scales that shimmered in the sun, eyes that looked almost like those gators he'd seen in Florida when Dad and Mom took him to that alligator farm outside of Orlando, and a snout about ten inches long. It raised itself out of the water as it approached the bank, slowly, almost timidly moving toward him.

Well, it was definitely a female of whatever species it was. Philip had never seen a humanoid Alligator looking creature before, but those were definitely breasts it had, small though they were. It's skin was scaly, with rough ridges, and it had a tail that had to be a foot long. It glanced at the bucket that he had just put the fish in. "Titodile?" it spoke, seemingly questioning him about… something, he guessed?

It crept closer to the basket, picking it up and then chewing on the wicker. "Hey!" Phillip shouted, "I just bought that!" The creature glanced at him, and then felt along the edges, lifting the top a bit seemingly by accident. "Titodile" it spoke again, reaching in and retrieving his catch, shoving it in its… her… yeah, her mouth. He groaned as his fish disappeared down the gullet of what he now assumed was a Titodile, whatever that was. Sounded like what that pervert Billy Gibbons would have named a crocodile if given half a chance.

Phillip began slowly backing away from the… the titodile, right. He glanced back only to be sure there was nothing in the way that could trip him up as he moved. The girl's eyes followed him as he moved, and she slowly chewed at the basket while keeping pace with him. Don't panic, don't panic, please don't panic, he mentally repeated to himself as he slowly moved toward the cabin. His eyes were locked on her eyes as he moved, and that's the only reason he noticed when her eyes shifted to his left and her brow furrowed.

"Titodile!" It shouted, at the same time he heard rushing footfalls to his left, and he threw himself back toward the ground as something black, furry, and growling filled the space where he'd just been. Something shredded his shirt, and he could feel trickles of blood from whatever had tried to gut him. He scrambled back to his feet and took off running toward the back porch, not bothering to stop and see what had attacked him.

He could hear whatever it was scrambling after him, and then he heard what sounded like a fireman's water hose turned to full blast, and whatever had been chasing him down flew off to his right. He heard an impact that sounded like a tree being chopped down, and a loud and frustrated growl. He ran faster.

Phillip made it halfway up the steps of the porch when something slammed into his back. He flew forward, feeling something pop as he impacted the steps. Then he was lifted and thrown back into the yard, crying out as he landed awkwardly on his side and tumbled three or four times. He groaned weakly, his head spinning as his body stopped.

He felt rather than saw something fly past him, and heard a loud thump, like two bodies colliding at high speeds. Another growl, weaker this time. "Titodile", something spoke as though it were challenging his attacker. "Pumara", came the reply, and then a snarling sound. The hose turned on again, a loud wail and another crashing sound, and then he was lifted up and carried somewhere. Where, he couldn't say. He was too busy losing consciousness.

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