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“Because I don’t have a car.”
“Why?”
“I can’t afford one.”
Beck stared at me as if he was coming to his conclusions about me, and I must’ve passed his test.
“Do you like dinosaurs?”
Relief flooded me. He was done with the personal questions and moving on to outrageous ones natural for a five-year-old.What was my favorite dinosaur? Did I prefer dinosaurs or superheroes? Who was my favorite superhero? Did I like ice cream? What was my favorite flavor?
For the first time in a long while, I sat comfortably in the back of a car with a sweet family, talking to a five-year-old about life and random facts.
Refreshing. That’s what it was. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt light-hearted enough to laugh for an entire afternoon with not so much as a glance out the windows to make sure nobody was following me or attempting to cause a car wreck.
That had happened once when I first went on the run. It was a difficult memory to let go of. Guilt at the danger I had inadvertently put that man in constantly waged war in my mind. I’d been staying—no, staying implied being in one place for more than a couple of nights—I’d beenhidingout in the city when I realized I made a mistake. I’d misjudged them. The hunters were closer than they’d ever been. By hunters, I don’t mean men who hunted deer or elk. They had weapons specifically designed to hunt monsters, weapons that would never be sold on the shelves of regular outdoor-gear stores. The money the hunters invested had made the organization wealthy beyond compare, and they utilized every cent in the capture and torture of paranormals. Fighting them would be a death sentence, so I’d packed up my shit and left. It was the only choice.
I’d made it out of the town to a nearby truck stop. Normally, I would’ve hidden in the back of a truck, but I was in such a hurry to get out of town, I‘d accepted a lift from a truck driver. He wasn’t horrible or sleazy like one would expect from a truck driver, just a young guy working hard to feed his family.
I’d just started to relax when a vehicle pulled alongside us. They made sure I saw a hunter was driving. His vicious smile let me know what lengths they were willing to go to catch me because they couldn’t risk me spilling the secrets I held. He drove in front of the lorry and braked. The driver beside me pushed down hard on his brakes. There was nowhere else for him to go. The truck swerved and the load in the rear moved, causing the lorry to go off the road.
It had been a mess. Sobbing, I’d managed to grab my backpack and bolt from the truck, the driver’s screams echoing in my ears as I ran.
I’d evaded the hunters hiding in the forest by cutting my hand and putting my blood on tree stumps and plants. Their senses were better equipped than those of an average person. I snapped branches and twigs to leave a trail, then backtracked and went in the opposite direction. All the while, I prayed I could move fast enough to keep them guessing since their speed had been altered to match mine.
I still felt so guilty for the trauma I’d caused that guy, all because he’d done a good deed. I sent money anonymously to his home address when I was able, having seen the information on his registration. The incident had taught me a couple of valuable lessons. One, never underestimate the hunters and how far they were willing to go just formoi, and two, I was on my own. I could never put an innocent in danger like that ever again—not from the hunters or my monster.
I shook myself out of the bad memories and welcomed this new memory I was creating.
It would have to sustain me for a while.
Before long, the squeaky-cleanWelcome to Blackwood Creeksign came into sight. We’d been driving for at least two hours, but the time had flown by, and part of me was sorry it had to end so soon. My time as a normal person riding in a car was a luxury I wouldn’t soon forget.
Slowly, we drove through the charming, quaint town. Some of the shops had white window boxes packed with colorful flowers of all varieties. Others had the kind of striped awnings I’d only seen in old movies. Trees rich with colorful blossoms lined the ample, old-fashioned brick sidewalks. There weren’t many cars on the street. Houses of varying sizes stacked close to one another were built off the main road—the downtown living of Blackwood Creek. Everything seemed within walking distance of the main thoroughfare. People were walking and riding bicycles all over.
A beautiful stone fountain stood in the center of town, with a small gazebo on the manicured lawn. People soaked up the sun on park benches and tossed Frisbees while others lay on the grass. Dogs roamed unleashed around the unfenced park. The place was a real-life Mayberry fromThe Andy Griffith Show. It was surreal. I was gobsmacked by the perfect, pretty picture it painted.
Fiona glanced back at me with a smile. “I told you it was charming.”
I couldn’t speak, so I said nothing. Places as perfect as this stunned me, leaving me temporarily speechless. Given my present circumstances, it was safer for me to stay quiet, anyway.
They didn’t stop gushing about the town and its community as we drove. Fiona pointed out a small boutique that sold cute clothes at affordable prices, and James nodded at the mechanic’s shop, where they always did a quality job at fair prices. The grocer, Fiona said, sold fresh and delicious produce, and the bookstore sold both new and used volumes. The antique shop had a wealth of trinkets and treasures.
The town should hire them for PR. If they pitched this town on the news, tourism would quadruple in a week.
James pulled into a parking lot off the town square and pointed in the direction of the bed and breakfast, as well as the tavern Fiona had mentioned.
When the car stopped, I could finally form words. “Thank you so much for the ride. I really appreciate it.”
I pulled some money from my pocket and leaned forward to hand it to Fiona. Having spent time with the family and seeing what they had, I put two-and-two together—they weren’t well-off. The least I could do was give them some gas money for the ride and the slice of normalcy they’d shared with me.
With the money I had left at the station to cover the damaged camera, my cash supply was dwindling fast. Because I didn’t spend a lot of time in one place, I couldn’t very well expect high-paying jobs. I had set myself up doing freelance graphic design, but my last gig had been more than a month ago. After I counted up the small amount of money I had left, I calculated that I had enough left for one night in a cheap motel. I would need to find a job ASAP. I’d probably have to stay out in the woods for a few nights until I could get some cash, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t done that before.
I tried to hide my relief when they waved off my attempt to give them money.
“Keep that,” James said. “We were coming home this way, anyway. We didn’t go out of our way.”
Fiona added, “If you’re staying in town, I recommend you stay at the Bogford Bed & Breakfast. This town is off the grid and not many people know about it, but its charm is unbeatable. And you have to visit The Tipsy Tavern and walk some of the many hiking trails around the outskirts of town. There are so many avid hikers and explorers in town, so the trails are unsurpassable.”
