Check out the noise

You know you'll never get back to sleep if you don't have a look. Rolling out of bed, you kick your sweaty T-shirt aside and plod out into the hall, absently contemplating how much your life sucks right now. At this point, you just want the summer to be over.

You're startled from your mental bitching by the unmistakable sound of the sliding glass door squeaking open. You've been meaning to oil it for a week now. You're standing in the hall, halfway between the bedroom and the kitchen, when a figure steps into view. At first, you think you must be dreaming, then you figure it's just the darkness playing tricks on you mind, because there can't possibly be a dinosaur standing before you. You reach back and flip on the hall light, illuminating the figure.

It's not a dinosaur, but close enough. It's a lizard, standing almost six feet tall, lean and well-muscled, wearing camouflage pants, a tight black T-shirt, and a belt with a holstered gun and a sheathed hunting knife. Its scales are green-gold, with cream blotches on the face, and dark blue mottling down the throat and on the insides of its arms. A long, scaly tail sticks out through a hole in the seat of its pants.

Your mouth drops open and you gape, your jaw moving up and down, but no sound comes out. Probably for the best. The only thing you can think of doing is screaming. The lizard moves a scaly hand to the butt of its gun, but doesn't draw.

"Hello, human," it says, its voice dry and sibilant. It cocks its head, looking you over with cold, impassive golden eyes. "I mean you no harm."