They get out of the car and step onto the asphalt road.
Vertin: ...
A barely perceptible moisture fills the air. The mist is pervasive, even filling their ears and nostrils.
A faint breeze runs along their faces, like a spider's web blowing in the wind.
Vertin: ...!
A flash of insight comes to her from some distant, unreachable place.
Lilya: What is it, Captain?
Vertin: Someone's casting arcane skills nearby.
???: baby cries
The crying of a baby throbs faintly in her ears like an insect bite.
Vertin: Do you hear that? Sounds like a crying baby.
Lilya: Better go take a look.
The grass is rustling, as if something is moving nearby.
Lilya: You know, a Texan soldier once told me about a notorious bandit back in his hometown many years ago.
Lilya: He would record the sound of a crying baby and play it outside the homes of single mothers. Then he'd wait, ready to attack them if any of them opened their door to look for the baby.
Vertin: Yes, but the actions of one man don't negate all other calls for help.
Lilya: Of course not. It's just a reminder to be ready for anything. We're close now. Prepare yourself.
Vertin: Got it.
The grass sways, and the faint crying stops. The fog grows thicker.
Lilya: Vertin, over here!
A broken flashlight lies on the ground. The damage looks recent.
Not far away, they spot a foot in a black shoe, and a pale ankle disappearing under purple fabric.
Maid: Ah. Hello. Please help.
A frail woman tightly cradles a swaddled infant, her body curled up and trembling with fear.
Vertin: Are you alright, Miss?
The maid turns her head. Her face is pale, as if all the blood has been drained from it.
Maid: Finally, someone ...
Maid: Please, help me. These critters won't let me leave. Every time I try, they knock me back.
Maid: My baby's starving and crying. If you hadn't come, I really don't know what I would've done.
Mummus: Cooumm, cooumm ... Urhm, urhm ...
The critter makes a wary sound.
Vertin: You mean these Mummus? I've never read about them attacking anyone in any reports. In fact, they're known for being rather timid.
Lilya: Reports don't necessarily capture the whole story, Captain.
Lilya: Look at them. They don't seem very "timid" to me.
Mummus: Coo ...
The Mummus before them opens its mouth wide, revealing its sharp white teeth.
Lilya: Careful! It's going to attack!
COMBAT
The creatures scatter, the grass rustling as they flee.
Maid: Ah. They always run off so quickly.
The woman pulls herself up off the ground and brushes the dirt from her skirt.
Vertin: Are you alright?
Maid: Did you get a good look at them? Those slippery little things look like seals, don't they?
Maid: They always jump on passing cars and rub their flat hind legs on the roof, making that coarse scraping sound.
Maid: Amazing creatures, aren't they? These little fearmongers.
Wind sweeps across the plains, dispersing the fog. The woman's face flushes red as she sways lightly in the breeze.
Maid: But they are, in fact, easily frightened; the slightest movement could startle them. That's why it's foggy all year around here. Many of my guests have trouble finding their way to the motel.
Maid: Are you ladies looking to check in at the motel?
Lilya: Motel?
Maid: Yes, Tuesday's Motel. If you're looking for a comfortable bed for the night, it's the place to go.
Maid: Anyway, thank you so much for saving us. I owe you one.
She pats the swaddled baby.
Vertin: Excuse me, are you the maid at Tuesday's Motel?
Tuesday: Ah, I almost forgot to introduce myself. Folks around here call me Tuesday.
Tuesday: "Hey, Tuesday, over here. Hey, Tuesday! Breakfast for one, please. Tuesday, Tuesday ..." Ain't we all like horses, and our names like the reins pulling at us?
She looks the two of them over.
Tuesday: Do you need a place to stay, ladies?
Vertin: Thank you for your kindness.
Vertin: But our driver's still in the car. We can't just leave him there.
Lilya: And our luggage and travel documents are still in the trunk, along with our cash, too. Let's head back now that the fog has cleared.
Tuesday: Shall I lead the way?
Lilya: You?
She looks the maid up and down suspiciously.
Lilya: What were you doing out here alone, anyway?
Tuesday: ...
Tuesday: I-I was waiting for a guest. It's been two hours, and they still haven't shown up.
Tuesday: I thought, rather than waiting here, I would pay you back for helping me.
Tuesday: I assume you parked near Route 77? Let me take you there.
The setting sun scatters its light, illuminating the dogwood and cotton plants in the fields.
Lilya: That coward!
The car is gone. Nothing remains but a few scattered pieces of luggage.
Lilya: He just threw out our luggage and took off! Tsk, how pathetic.
Vertin: At least he didn't take the luggage with him.
Tuesday: Mmm. Are you going to thumb a ride with all these bags?
Tuesday: I'd advise against that, especially here. You've seen those movies, right? Bad things can happen on the road out here.
Tuesday: There are a lot of smugglers around these days.
There's a clear concern in her voice.
Vertin: ...
Vertin: Did you say your motel wasn't far from here?
Tuesday: Yes. Come this way. There's an easy trail that won't dirty your shoes.
Tuesday: Don't worry. It ain't far.
The walk isn't far, indeed. Before long, they're standing in front of the motel.
Tuesday: When night falls and the signs are lit, a weary traveler may find a comfortable place to rest here.
Under the shade of the neem trees, the wooden porch awaits its owner, darkening in the fading sunlight.
Tuesday: Welcome to Tuesday's Motel, ladies.