No Man's Land by Debra Dunbar

fool if she thought for one second they weren’t watching her. If they caught her transferring money and followed the account trail, she’d be dead before she could find an ATM. So twenty dollars it was. That was all she had to her name. Better make it last as long as she could.
    Not trusting the pockets in the baggy borrowed pants, she stuck the bill in her tattered bra and made her way out of the trailer, carefully looking to make sure none of the pesky neighboring humans were lying in wait for her. She’d do some scouting around, some reconnaissance during the daylight hours then she’d venture back out at night.
    The trailer Kelly left was raised above the ground on cement blocks; a weathered wooden porch and steps rested on top of brown grass. A dirt parking area was right next to the steps, which led the thirty feet to a gravel road. She could see Melody’s trailer about fifty yards off to the right, and the edge of another trailer beyond that, half hidden by the trees. There was a similar line of trailers to the left of hers. Behind the trailers stood a dense wooded area with no signs of human habitation through the winter–bare trees. Tall grass and briars in a field lay on the other side of the gravel road. In the near distance were gently sloped mountains, still green even in November, and criss–crossed with scars from the high–voltage electrical line right–of–way. Kelly raised her head and carefully sniffed the air. Fresh water lay a few–hundred yards away —there was no hint of the saltwater smell she’d grown accustomed to.
    No humans were in the vicinity, although there was still that lingering old–ham smell as well as the aroma of various mammals, and exhaust fumes from ahead in the distance. Nothing smelled of vampire. She couldn’t even make out lingering traces of those that had brought her here. A pang of loneliness speared through her, but there was nothing she could do about that.
    Kelly walked down the gravel road heading toward the car exhaust fumes. She might as well keep her eyes open for useful roadside trash. Anything she could find might help her survive, and would be one item less that she’d have to spend her meager twenty dollars on.
    Grabbing a plastic grocery store bag caught on a briar bush, she looked around. Shame there aren’t any size–two pants, or a nice pair of Nike’s, she thought. Or a fresh bag of blood.
    There were no clothes or hundred–dollar bills, but by the time she’d reached the road, Kelly had found a bungee cord and an empty plastic water bottle. The road before her was two lanes wide with shoulders on either side. She glanced north then south wondering which way led to the nearby town. A sign at the corner of the gravel road indicated she lived on Briar Lane. Kelly sniffed, but the smell was pretty much the same either way. She shrugged and turned left.
    She felt odd walking down the shoulder of a country road in ill–fitting, cheap clothing, gathering cast off items in a plastic bag like a homeless person. How quickly I’ve fallen , Kelly thought with wry amusement. Pretty much back where I started as a human.
    A slightly bent ten–penny nail, a nearly full spool of steel wire, about a foot of quarter–inch zinc–coated chain, two wire hangers, and many pieces of nylon baling cord all went into her bulging plastic bag. She’d also managed to collect fifty cents in change. Sheesh, she was like a bag lady, delighting in her discovered riches. Or some kind of vampire McGyver. A cut up wire hanger, ends from a bungee cord, and voila! Instant fangs. She laughed, envisioning herself with bits of wire protruding from her mouth. What a ridiculous idea. She was obviously starting to go loopy from hunger.
    The bushes off to the side of the road rustled, and Kelly paused, frowning. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard the noise. Initially, she’d thought it was a squirrel, but whatever it was seemed to be following her. The vampire hesitated,