The sound of a mosquito buzzing near my ear brought me back to reality. Part of me wanted to sleep through it and hope the tiny vampire would move on, but the sleepiness faded.

  As I stretched and shook off the grogginess, I heard the song of the frogs and crickets in full chorus. I’ve been to many different countries thanks to Uncle Sam, and heard many critters sing their night songs, but no place on earth had a choir like this; warm and alive.

  Except for that mosquito.

  The evening heat of Southern Louisiana could be smothering, but tonight it felt more like a warm moist blanket.

  Eyes still heavy, I didn’t want to focus and read my entire character sheet again just to see my status.

  “Is there any way to see just my health and status without pulling up my sheet?” I asked the roof of the bus.

  Suddenly, as if on command, three colored bars appeared in the lower right of my vision.

  The red line sat at a lower level than the blue and green bars. I asked the system to label them since I was a noob. Red was indeed health, blue equaled magic, and green was stamina.

  I got up and took a seat in the driver’s seat and checked my injuries. My shoulder was red and hot to the touch but didn’t blister. Another scar added to my collection. My body was riddled with scars and bad tattoos. I reached around to my back to feel how bad that burn was, and I could already feel a huge blister. I couldn’t tell, but I was guessing I had a 2nd to 3rd degree burn.

  I pulled off what was left of my shoe. Blood soaked through my sock, so I carefully and slowly peeled it away from the wound sucking in breath through my teeth and cheeks, wincing. The gash was probably going to heal without stitches, but I still had to be careful and avoid infection. I took what was left of my shirt and made the best makeshift bandage I could, wrapping my foot tightly.

  My refuge, a houseboat-bus-hybrid had a weird charm to it.

  Quoting The Dread Pirate Roberts, I said, "I wouldn’t build a summer home out of it or anything, but the trees are actually quite lovely."

  The rows of passenger seats were long gone, swapped out for a compact kitchenette, a weathered RV table, and a sagging couch. In the rear, tucked behind a narrow divider, stood a toilet. No sign of a bed…maybe the previous owner just slept on the couch. I limped over to check the cabinets, hoping luck hadn’t abandoned me completely.

  At the very top, like some divine joke, sat a can of green beans and a can of beanie weenies. How long they'd been there was anyone's guess, but I wasn’t about to let age come between me and dinner. My stomach rumbled like it had its own opinion on the matter. I rifled through three drawers and unearthed a handful of plastic utensils and a lone flimsy kitchen knife. I was probably about to ruin it by opening these cans. Gripping the green bean can like a makeshift mallet, I used it to hammer the knife into the top of the beanie weenie can. It took only two solid strikes. I sawed at the metal until a jagged slit widened just enough, and then I pried it open like a treasure chest. The moment the contents poured into my mouth, I practically heard angels sing.

  Ohhh, the sweet nectar of the gods wouldn’t taste as good right now.

  I went over to the couch and pried it up to see if there was anything under it. Most people used that area for storage, so I might find something useful there. It was worth a shot. I found a power cord, an extension cord, a water hose, some wheel chocks tied together with a rope, and a can opener.

  Of course, there’s a can opener.

  I finished opening the beenie weenies and grabbed one of the plastic forks in the drawer. I moved over to the table thinking there might be storage under the benches. I pried the first bench up to find a water moccasin.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Good googly moogly! I thought as I gasped and admittedly yelped before slamming the seat back down.

  I heard the thing slither away and splash into the water below. I’m pretty sure that was a “normal” cotton mouth and not one of the “advanced” ones that attacked me earlier.

  Slowly prying the seat back up again, I sighed finding no critters, but to my dismay, there was nothing of use either.

  I went to the second seat, and having learned my lesson, I slowly opened it just enough for me to peek in. I dropped the seat immediately when I saw a pair of eyes staring at me. Whatever it was, it didn’t try to get away, and it didn’t attack me. I pried the seat up a bit more, finding a tiny trembling raccoon staring intently at me.

  I didn’t see a banner over its head, which made me even more curious. I focused until finally words appeared above the little guy almost as if I forced the system to generate the banner.

  It was only about the size of a kitten, just a handful really. Eyes sharp and alert curiously searching my own. I knew some people back in New Iberia who had domesticated a coon from birth. They basically brought it up like a house cat. The thing used a kitty litter box and was kennel trained.

  I scooped out some of the beans with a spoon and made a trail from me to the varmint. As soon as the beans hit the floor, he picked them up with his tiny little hands and began eating eagerly. He then cautiously moved to the next few beans and repeated the process until he was only a few beans away from me. I just sat there quietly holding my breath making no sudden movement. It didn’t take long, and he made his way through the last few beans and got up in my lap. I scooped out one of the wieners with my fingers and broke off a little piece. I slowly moved my hand towards him. He took it cautiously and ate it. He stopped, looked directly into my eyes, and with a soft trusting blink, he curled up in my lap and went to sleep.

  Suddenly, a new banner floated over his little head.

  Why not? Let’s see what happens.

  Her? Oops!

  “Sorry, sweet girl. I didn’t mean to assume your gender there.” I said as I gently petted the back of her head. There was a tiny white spot almost right in the middle of her head right between her ears. It kind of reminded me of a star off in the distant sky.

  “Starla. I’m going to name you Starla.”

  “Yes,” I said as I leaned back against the couch and went back to sleep, the warmth of her tiny body providing much needed comfort.