Page 6

“This radio is for emergencies only,” Hank continues, gesturing to a walkie-talkie hanging on the wall. “I'll have one of my own in case you need me, and so does the sheriff. Frequencies are taped to the back.”

“Ah, the sheriff,” I drawl, dropping into one of the chairs and wincing when a loose coil stabs my ass. “Married to sweet Paula down at the diner. Their son's the one that went missing, right?”

The older man's lips thin, bushy brows slamming down beneath his hat to a point where his narrowed eyes are barely visible. “I'm going to be honest, kid, I don't like you.”

“What, really? I thought we were hitting it off.”

“And I don't know why you're here, nor do I care, but let me make one thing clear. You respect the people of this town while you're living in it, you hear?”

“Loud and clear,” I reply without breaking eye contact. It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him that respect is earned, but he'd never listen anyway. The guy reminds me a lot of my dad—stubborn as a bull—and I'd rather make this interaction as quick as possible. I've got a whole twelve hours of absolutely nothing ahead of me, so I'd better get a head start.

“Keep the door locked,” he grumbles, spinning around on his heel, “and stay outta the woods. I'll be back in the morning.”

With that, Hank sets the gate to close and takes his leave, swallowed by the evening mist. I watch him from the window until his form disappears before popping in a pair of earbuds. There's not much I can do thanks to the lack of cell service, but luckily a few of my old playlists still work.

Pressing play on some Depeche Mode, I kick my feet up on the desk and prepare for a long, boring night ahead.

I end up falling asleep.

It’s not on purpose. One minute I’m staring at the ceiling, singing along with Dave Gahan, and the next⁠—

Bang.

I jolt upright so fast the chair legs scrape against the floor. Music still blasts in one ear, but it takes me far too long to realize that the other earbud must have fallen out.

“Fuck,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes before squinting around the shack. Nothing seems out of place. From what I can see, the door is still locked and my coat still hangs from a hook near the window. Beyond it, the floodlights above the gate are the only thing visible in a swirling mass of inky darkness.

With a heavy sigh, I scoot my chair back and search for the missing ear piece. It must have bounced under the desk. My knees hit the soft wood floor, one palm sliding across it while I use the other to turn on my phone's flashlight. The beam cuts through dust and old scraps of paper before catching on my earbud—half-buried in a mess of cobwebs.

“Of course,” I mutter, reluctantly reaching for it.

My fingers brush the webs first, shoving them aside before plucking the bud out, and right as I go to back away⁠—

Something skitters across my wrist.

“Jesus fuck!” Jerking back, I smash my head into the underside of the desk with a sharp crack. Pain explodes behind my eyes. “Son of a⁠—”

I scramble backward and flap wildly until the spider flies off somewhere into the void. My phone slips, clattering to the floor beside me. With a wince, I rub the back of my head. “Fucking hell.”

Now, I've seen a lot of shit. Literally stood there and watched my older brother get too close to a bison, which resulted in one lengthy hospital stay. He lived to tell the tale and the following summer, our father took us rattlesnake hunting. Nothing about wildlife scares me anymore… except spiders.

Shaking my head to clear it, I grab my phone and get to my feet, not even caring that my earbud is still laying beneath the desk. It can stay there for all I care. Not worth it. I'll just order another pair.

My thumb swipes across my screen out of habit, and the realization that I can’t order anything doesn't register until the data roaming notification pops up to alert me. Fuck.

I lean against the desk and scrub a hand down my face, momentarily feeling isolated. How the hell do people live out here with no internet? No rideshares, or food deliveries. What is there even to eat?

My stomach growls, reminding me that a piece of stale bread is all I've eaten today, and⁠—

Bang.

Something thumps against the door. I whirl toward the sound, heart kicking up into my throat as my pulse thumps in my ears. “Hello?”

Only silence and the gentle patter of rain respond.

Pushing off the desk, I take a cautious step forward. “Hey, uh… We’re closed. Come back in the morning.”

Nothing.