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Rubbing her eyes until she saw spots, she accepted there was no way back. The choice she’d made in that room—under a false name and a falsified belief system—had consequences that followed the real her and would continue to do so. She knew that regret was supposed to sit somewhere on her chest, heavy and unnerving. But it never had. Not for what was done. Only for the fallout. And that scared her more than any ghost could.
The blood-red numbers on the nightstand clock read two-thirty. Sleep was a cruel joke taunting her from afar.
There was no air in the room. She had to get out. It was too hot, too sticky, the memories crowding over her like arms dragging her down. A sweat broke out above her lip.
Whipping the sheet back, she slipped on her boots and jacket. With one last look at Teddi’s sleeping form, the curves of her face made softly ethereal by the low light, she stepped outside and shut the door.
The unforgiving cold air was welcome against the frustration building inside. Opening her jacket, she let the icy talons brush against her belly and exposed thighs beneath her sleep shorts.
The parking lot remained empty, Al’s car was hidden from view, parked in a hollowed-out space around the back of the building. The rectangular lot seemed smaller in the light of the full moon. Its pale stones were a stark contrast to the wall of black it ran up against.
Leaning against the worn door, she peered up at the night sky beyond the short overhang. A pang of wonderment reminded her how much she missed the sight of millions of stars. D.C. was over-saturated with so many lights that it blocked them out. The explosion of twinkling spots was a calming sight as her breath swirled slowly in front of her face.
The loud cry of an owl cut the air. Stepping off the asphalt, the soft crunch of gravel under her boot answered back. Looking to the spindly top of a tree piercing in front of the moon, she tried to spot the bird, stepping further away from the door.
Another hoot. It sounded from the right. She could see nothing. Looking back at the room, she checked that the door was closed and then stepped towards the woods.
As if traveling deeper, the owl sounded further away as it called. Like a siren song, she found herself stepping closer to the black wall of the tree line. Wrapping her jacket around her middle, she lifted her foot above the rise of clustered leaves dividing the lot from the woods.
With a single step, she passed into the dark.
The unseen owl’s call sounded again as the surrounding forest life seemed to mute into the background. As if she put on a pair of headphones, the world became muffled. Hazy. The landing of her footsteps on piles of leaves fell away. Her breath was silent even as it led her. The night took her, only the rough bark of passing trees guiding her steps.
The light from the motel was swallowed up behind her but she paid no mind. As if being pulled by an invisible rope, she continued. The tangle of roots and rocks and uneven ground failed to impede her.
The owl called once more, bidding her to move faster, breath disappearing in the black as quickly as it was born.
Vera could see nothing of the winged visitor. Something snagged her jacket but she paid it no mind as the muffled sensation covered her senses but for the owl. The veiled landscape was interspersed with tiny latticework of moonlight cutting through the canopy, like stars on the forest floor. But the bird refused to reveal itself. Blinking hard against the growing fuzziness of her mind, she leaned against a tree that was wider than she was tall, panting.
White noise filled her body, buzzing in the form of heaviness taking over the blood that pumped through her.
The jacket fell open letting in the cold but she didn't care. She felt nothing but the desperate need to find the owl that called to her, that beast that enticed with every opening of its beak. Her breath was pumping out of her as she scanned the surrounding branches draped in black, begging for a flash of the singer.
“Where are you?” She whispered as another call sounded, deeper still. She was going to find it. The unseen rope pulled her, wiping away all other thoughts. It was a drug. A symphony. An answer. Her head began to spin.
The sharp snap of a twig sliced through the haze.
Holding still, she tried to make out any recognizable shapes amongst the wide trunks and thicket.
She waited, burning breath held in her chest as both she and the owl seemed to listen.
A heavy footfall, this time louder.
Vera blinked slowly, shaking her head. Her body was lethargic as if drugged. Her limbs were weighed down. Fear prickled somewhere in the back of her mind, telling her something was wrong.
Scratching her hand against the jagged bark, pain tried to cut through the haze. Gasping, Vera leaned against the tree, trying to find a tangible thought.
Pain in hand. Legs tingling. Cold.
She looked down to find her knees shaking uncontrollably, goosebumps rising across every inch of exposed skin. Like coming out from under anesthesia, she swam to herself in her mind. Gasping, she tried again. Clenching her hand around the bark, she anchored herself to the sharp sensation.
The fog lifted enough to realize where she was. She had rushed into the blackened woods for a bird like a damned idiot. Walking into the hunting ground of a serial killer who could be anyone and anywhere at any time.
Her heartbeat rushed into her ears as she tried to solidify her thoughts. The haziness still trailed its fingers along the edges of her mind. She was in pajamas, with no real protection against the elements. She had no weapon to defend herself against what may be lurking in the woods. She could feel the keen bite of the cold snapping against her skin.
Something brushed against the rough stems of a bush.
Holding her breath she waited, trying to hear over the roaring blood in her ears.
