Chapter 31
Chapter 31
“Escape is a commodity like anything else.”
Iian M. Banks
“You kids lost or something?”
The gas station clerk, an elderly man with thinning hair and a hook nose, peered at us over the top of his newspaper, suspicion in his eyes.
I couldn’t really blame him for the skepticism. We must’ve looked like hell, sweaty and red as we were.
I positioned myself close to the convenience’s store loud, worn air conditioner as I said, “Something like that. We were hiking through the mountains around here, but we got a little lost along the way…and now we’re just trying to find a way back home.” The lie rolled off my tongue easily.
“Hiking?” The old man raised an eyebrow. “Without any gear?”
“We lost it a few miles back. You can blame this one for that.” I pointed a thumb at Scarlett. “Left all our stuff by some tree on accident, and we have no idea where.”
“Yeah, it was my fault,” Scarlett piped up, “I’ve never been hiking before. And now we don’t have phones or maps or water.” I was a little impressed by how effortlessly she joined in on the lie. She didn’t miss a beat.
The clerk stared at us for a moment more, as if determining the legitimacy of our story, before he sighed heavily. “There’s a payphone in the back, and you can grab one of the maps here.” He gestured to a rack full of pamphlets entitled: *NAVIGATING WASHINGTON’S MOST SCENIC MOUNTAINS.*
Judging by the dusty drawings on the front, the map was at least ten years outdated – but it was better than nothing. I reached for one just as he said, “But that’s it. No water or food unless one of you kids starts coughing up a few dollar bills.”
*Stingy old man.*
“Right. You said the phone is in the back?” I asked.
He nodded, and pointed to a dingy, fluorescent hallway with a restroom and an “Employees Only” door. “You kids really should be more careful, you know,” he called, “There’s wolves all over these woods!”
*Oh, you have no idea, dude.*
With Scarlett on my heels and map-in-hand, I walked over to the rusted payphone booth in the back.
*I haven’t used one of these in years…and it doesn’t look like it’s been used in years either.*
I grabbed the quarter sitting on top of the booth, ready to slide it into the slot and –
I paused.
“What’s wrong?” Scarlett whispered, staring at my hand poised mid-air.
I swallowed. “I just realized…I’m not sure who to call. I’m not from here, so…”
“Oh.”
“I guess we could call the cops, claiming to be a couple of stranded hikers,” I said. “Or some sort of car service, but we don’t have any money and who knows how long it’d take them to get out here?”
“I don’t know any humans either,” Scarlett said, “Everyone I knew is part of the Crescent Moon pack, and I doubt they’d do anything to help us. You’re pretty much my only friend.”
Then, like a lightbulb moment, it came to me.
Just because my friends weren’t here didn’t mean I couldn’t call them, right?
*I may be stuck in a book, but I don’t know the rules of this world or how it works. Maybe I can still reach someone from my real life.*
It was a long shot, I knew that, but hope bloomed in my chest as I dialed one of the few numbers I knew by memory.
Ava.
The phone rang three times before a gruff male voice picked up. “Hello?”
*Well, that’s not Ava.*
“Hi, I don’t suppose you know Ava Lombardi, do you?”
“No…is this one of those phone scams? I’m not giving you my credit card information!” The voice shouted, and then with a click, he hung up. Well, there goes that theory.
The hope in my chest shriveled as I turned to Scarlett.
“Well, so much for that,” I sighed, “I thought maybe I could reach one of my friends from my…real life, you know? But I guess that’s not possible. We’ll have to find another way out of here.”
Scarlett opened her mouth to reply, when an unfamiliar male voice suddenly interrupted with, “Do you girls need a ride into town?”
We both turned to find a tall, thin man with a stained plaid shirt, a trucker hat, and a gaunt face. He looked to be at least ten or fifteen years older than us.
If I’d had hackles, they would’ve raised in alarm.
Before I could tell him no, Scarlett piped up with, “Yes, we do!”
I whirled to look at her. Was she serious? Did she not realize the first rule of “stranger danger” was not to accept rides from people you don’t know? Especially strange men?
“Oh, I think my friend is mistaken,” I jumped in, “We don’t need a ride. We have a friend coming to pick us up.”
“No, we don’t,” she said with furrowed eyebrows, “We don’t know anyone that can help us either.”
I wanted to scream in frustration.
If there was a contest for kidnapping victims, Scarlett might as well have just scored us first place.
*We just got out a dungeon, and now she’s trying to get us thrown in someone’s basement.*
The trucker gave us a toothy grin that showed the yellows of his teeth. “Well, sounds like you girls are in a bit of a jam then,” he said, “I can give you a ride in my truck. Nearest town is Millville – ‘bout ten miles north.”
“Thank you so much,” Scarlett heaved in relief.
I certainly didn’t feel any relief about the situation – especially when I saw the way the trucker’s eyes lingered on the rise of Scarlett’s chest.
He gestured us to follow him, but before Scarlett could take a step, I pulled her close and hissed, “What’s wrong with you? That guy could be a serial killer for all we know!”
She stared up at me with those big, green bambi eyes of hers. “Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?”
I sighed. “Scarlett, I know that you had an…unconventional upbringing, but when I was a kid, ‘don’t accept rides from strange men’ was one of the first rules I learned.”
She placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder as she whispered, “Look, you don’t need to worry, okay? He’s human, I can tell. If he starts acting squirrely, I can handle it.”
Deep down, I knew there was some logic to her argument. Creep or not, Scarlett probably had the strength to take down ten or twenty human men…but that didn’t keep my gut from churning with unease.
*Isn’t it also logical to follow your gut too?*
*There's real scientific evidence to suggest you should follow your instincts.*
“Driving ten miles will be so much faster than walking too,” she argued, “And it’s the only way we’re going to get there by nightfall with your human stamina.”
I rubbed my forehead, and glanced back at the trucker waiting by the door for us.
Another good point.
Enzo probably had people looking for us now – hitching a ride lowered our chances of being caught on foot.
“Alright,” I finally swallowed, “Let’s do it.”
Her eyes brightened, and she turned on her heel.
I trailed after her, desperately trying to shake off the unease I felt whenever I looked at the human trucker.