AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There, looming over the counter, was the man he’d encountered in the bakery, his bulk casting a shadow over the small, old woman who stood defiantly shaking her head. Harrycould almost hear the timbre of her voice, laden with the tremor of fear but edged with the steel of resolve, denying knowledge she did not possess.
Without hesitation, Harry made his move. With a swift motion, he sent the motorcycle crashing to the ground. The sound of metal on concrete sliced through the air, a dissonant clang that shattered the quiet of the afternoon. It was a deliberate provocation, a gauntlet thrown with precision and intent.
As the man dashed outside, his eyes immediately drawn to his toppled-over prized possession, Harry slipped away, his steps measured, calculated. He blended into the crowd of the weekend market, just another face among the townspeople, but his gaze remained fixed on the figure now cursing at the sight of his damaged ride.
Harry knew the game well—the dance of hunter and hunted. And he had played the opening move. He could feel the rush, the sharp edge of danger that made him feel more alive. That was probably a bad thing. Most people would plummet into anxiety knowing what they’d started. But he was ready for it.
Watching intently, he waited until the man lifted the motorcycle that wouldn’t start and began angrily wheeling it away. He cursed and shouted at anyone who came within twenty feet of him but most were wise enough to steer clear.
Harry was the shadow now, trailing the man as he stormed through the streets. He ducked into doorways and hid around corners, making sure he wouldn’t be seen.
The roles had been reversed; the predator had become the prey. Harry watched as the man checked over his shoulder, instincts alerting him that he was being followed. But Harry was a ghost, his footsteps as silent as the whispers of the wind, his presence as elusive as smoke.
Harry tracked the man back to a nondescript motel on the outskirts of town. It was a rundown building. Out of the way. Quiet. The perfect spot for Harry to cause a little more trouble. He’d have to wait, but he didn’t mind. He’d brought a book.
The night welcomed Harry with a cloak of darkness under which he could operate unseen. He waited, patience his steadfast ally, until the lights in the man’s room flickered out. That was his cue. Stealthily, Harry approached a little giddy to begin his campaign of harassment.
Stifling a laugh, he tossed small stones at the window. Sporadically at first and then frequently enough where someone would know for sure it was intentional. When the light in the room flipped on Harry ducked away. This was insanely immature. Borderline ridiculous. But also a little fun. Harry's tactics would need to be in line with psychological warfare, designed to fray nerves and instill paranoia. No one worked at their best when they were looking over their shoulder, wondering if they were crazy.
It all worked like a charm and as Harry walked down the quiet streets to his apartment, he whistled a little tune.
“Out late?” He spun to see Gio standing with a cigarette in his mouth and a curious look on his face.
“Gio. Damn. You scared the hell out of me.” As hard as Harry tried, he couldn’t help but look a little guilty. Gio seemed amused.
“I stay out at night to make sure nothing strange is happening. We’ve had threats against the businesses here. Apparently, we’re not cooperating enough with their demands.”
“What’s your plan if they do show up?” Harry drew in a deep breath. Gio was a dedicated guy, but he didn’t seem prepared for something like this.
Gio shrugged. “You’re out here too. Looking for trouble?”
“Starting it,” Harry chuckled. “Or maybe trying to end it.” He was over the cryptic talk with Gio. They were obviously both dancing around the topic. “I saw him in the bookstore harassing another business owner. He’s got to go.”
“I’ve gotten word from some friends that other small towns in the area are having the same issue. And for them it’s even worse. Escalating. Stores vandalized. They think we are all in on some conspiracy. Hiding something. It’s twisted.”
“But you’re not,” Harry said, half question half statement.
“We have been peacefully enjoying all the quiet and solitude for generations. We don’t bother anyone, we don’t ask questions.” This was Gio’s admission that the surrounding towns knew about Verde Lago. They understood people were there to be kept safe. It was amazing to Harry that a whole town would stay quiet, even under threat. But that gave him even more reason to want to shut this guy down.
“I think any man using those tactics deserves whatever trouble he has coming his way. I’ll do what I can to help.”
“Why?” Gio asked, trying to hide the unease in his voice. “You’re only passing through. Hanging out. Why would you want to take on our troubles?”
“I don’t like when people throw their weight around just because they can. A guy like that needs to be knocked down a few pegs.”
“He has friends. If they think you’re a problem, they’ll show up here. Might make it worse for all of us. I can’t let that happen. Everyone I care about lives here. Works here.”
“That must be great,” Harry said, before he could think better of what it revealed about him.
“You don’t have people?”
“I don’t. I did, but not anymore. Not right now.”
“But you’re willing to fight for us? Maybe you’ll end up with people.”
Harry dropped his eyes low and nodded. Maybe he’d be welcomed here. Reading books, sitting by the lake, and getting some little job to get by. He could learn something. Do something. Have people. Roots. The idea was intoxicating. But he sobered with the thought of Rose. What she might be going through. He didn’t deserve an easy life. Not as much as she did.
CHAPTER 8
