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“You’re so, so… tall.” he grins again, fuck stoned people are stupid.
“I've just called at the gas station and spoke to your mom. She said you would take me back there after closing to access your security footage.”
He just nods and grins again. “Get the keys to the gas station. We're going out now.”
I push him back into the house and follow him to his room, which is even worse. I fling open the window as this twat’s never gonna be able to access a fucking key, let alone a security system. The gas station closes in an hour. I steer him to find his keys, then his shoes, then his wallet. Fucking kid’s out of it, then I drag him out to the truck and drive the long way back to the gas station. As we pull up, the lights are still on.
I make him wait till the main lights go out and his mom drives off. I purposely didn't remind him to bring his phone so he can't be tracked. As we head into the office, the struggle is real right now. Kid can barely focus, so he gives me the password, and I log in. I sit him in the chair with a bag of Funyuns I grabbed as we walked through. As I scroll through the footage, it takes a while to figure it out, as he's about as much use as a chocolate ashtray.
Then, I find her. Fuck, she looks rough. She almost looks fucking homeless as she stalks in, pays for her gas, and grabs some supplies. Once I have the time stamp, I check the other cameras and check the vehicle she’s driving. I know she won't have stolen it as she won’t want it flagged up, but if I can get the tag, at least I know what I’m looking for.
“Gotcha! 2004 Toyota Camry in silver, how very unassuming of you, wife.”
Writing down the details, I check for every bit of footage. I take photos as I go of the car, of her. This is the closest I've been to her in a long time, and I can almost feel her near.
I check the forecourt cams and see the direction she drove off in, and fuck if my dick doesn’t stir seeing her as she stalks across to the car. She’s wearing black jeans, combat boots and a black hoodie. She has the hood pulled up, but in the light of the shop, you can clearly see it's her, and her face is still bruised, and the scar is angry and red with a scab running through it. It looks horrific at that moment. I can’t believe he carved up her fucking face. I wonder what drove him to do what he did to her? I hope someone’s making him pay somewhere.
When I'm done, getting everything I can, the lad’s passed out in the chair, I lock the door. I leave, sliding out of the back emergency exit, making sure it shuts behind me.
At least I have a direction. You may be the motherfucking Reaper, but you are mine, and I will track you to the ends of the earth or die trying. I'm coming for you. Let's hope we don't burn the world to the ground and everything in it when I finally find you.
Climbing in the truck, I feel hopeful. I head to the next sighting, northeast of where I am. If I know my wife, she’s gonna zigzag all over the fucking place to try and throw me off. The thing is, when I want something, I’m like a dog with a bone. Nothing will stand in my way. Not even her.
Pulling up at my next destination, it’s dark out, everywhere’s closed. I pull around the back and sleep. I want to be ready when they open. I hope I’m as successful as I was yesterday. Yeah, I’m taking that as the win. I had eyes on her for the first time in weeks. I know which direction she went; although it’s only a slight piece of information, I’m running with it.
When the gas station opens, I'm waiting. I head inside and talk to the bubble-blowing mean girl behind the counter. I'm gonna have to think on my feet and flirt a little. Everyone loves a bad boy, right?
“If you show me the footage, I'll come back at the weekend on my Harley and take you out.”
“Ew, gross, you're old enough to be a grandpa. I’m so not down with that. It would be like the most gross idea for a date like ever.”
“Fine!” I turn and storm out. Little bitch didn’t need to be so fucking rude!
I wait around till she leaves and scope out the next attendant on duty. Fuck, it's an older dude. What angle can I work to get him to show me the footage? Winging it is pretty much all I’ve got at the minute. I head inside. “Look, man, my wife left me as I fucked up and did some dumb shit and fucked someone else, now she’s fucked off and left my sorry ass, and I’m trying to find her. Yes, I’m pussy-whipped. Yes, I’m a dick. I just need a break and a lead!”
Fucking awesome dude lets me troll through all the footage, and I find her again nearly a week later than the last place, so she’s clearly not moving very fast; hoping the zigzagging is enough to throw me off. Thanking the guy and leaving him a massive tip, I head on to the next place. She’s heading northwest this time. I just hope I’m closing in.
The next place is a bust. I sit back and do some more research, calling gas stations non-stop for days, but nothing. It's quiet, no sign of her. What if I'm wrong? What if she doubled back? After a few days, I'm frustrated, and I can't find anything. I give in and call Dice.
“Dice, I need your help.”
“Steel?” his voice rasps back.
“Yeah! Dice, I’m drowning. I can't find her. I don't know what to do or where to go from here. It's been weeks since I've found anything. I'm just bumbling around now with nothing. Dice, please?”
“Give me a couple of hours, and I will see what I can find. I'm not promising, though, Steel. I can't go too deep.”
“I understand, Dice. Thank you, Brother!”
I wrap myself in the blankets and just nod in and out of sleep. She’s everywhere in my dreams. I feel her short breath against my skin, a chaste kiss on my cheek, a caress of skin, a flash of desire in her eyes, and then there's the blood. I startle, thrusting up from my reclined position, sweat pooling on my brow, deep, panicked breaths stuttering from my lungs as I clutch at my pounding chest. That's how they all end now. My dreams turn into nightmares, her face contorted in agony covered in blood, her blood and startled screams ring through my thoughts. I wake in a pool of sweat and regret.
Steadying my breath, I pull out the map with all my chicken scratch etchings on it. I've marked every place I’ve been, searched and eliminated. I'm going in circles, losing my mind, and my heart breaks every day, leaving me feeling empty, hollow and broken.
The text breaks me from my pity party. It’s a set of coordinates from Dice. No explanation, no nothing. I scribble them down, and delete the message. He clearly didn’t find them himself, and I’m grateful.
Pulling into the store to grab some supplies before I head up the mountain, I’ve been informed she’s in a cabin halfway up. There’s about an hour's trek from the bottom. She’s been there a few weeks, but no one other than the delivery guy has seen her since the first day she arrived. She places her order, the delivery guy meets her at the bottom of the mountain, and she pays and leaves. The last delivery was four days ago; she’s not due for another one for three more days. I’m hoping she’s still here. It’s fucking freezing, and there’s snow on the mountain. Everywhere in this godforsaken place is freezing and wet and depressing. It’s time to get my girl and take her home.
I drive to the bottom of the mountain and park up, grabbing the supplies and wrapping myself in a blanket. I don’t really have clothes for this weather. I start my trek. The only saving grace is I came in the truck rather than on my bike. As I start trudging, the higher I get, the thicker the snow becomes. It’s fucking rough up here. The trees are thick, and although they provide cover from the blizzard, which is pouring down from above, they also don’t let much sun, light or heat in, so the snow that’s getting blown around is just staying, and it's fucking miserable. Why the fuck would she come here? It’s cold, damp, dark, depressing, and if you’re not in the best frame of mind, I can imagine it would just give you a swift kick to the nuts over the edge.
