Nodding slowly, he held out his hand for his bag. I surrendered it wondering what I’d do when we got home. I still had a whole summer ahead of me. A summer filled with two jobs and roommate interviews. Would he let me leave like I’d planned? I followed him out the door, closing it softly behind me. I knew I couldn’t escape this place permanently because of my tie to these people, but I hoped not to close this door again for a long while.
Sam’s easy stride annoyed me within two steps. Was he stalling? I took matters in my own hands and strode past him to get to the entrance. The longer we stayed, the more likely I’d run into that guy again. According to the information I’d gleaned over the years, he shouldn’t have turned away in the first place. Maybe he hadn’t been attracted to me.
Since I had no socks on, I had to slide my bare feet into my tennis shoes, which felt wrong, but I didn’t want to waste time to stop and put on socks. Scalp prickling with tension, I struggled to pull the crimped back of my shoe out from where it’d wedged when I’d crammed my foot into stupid thing. My gaze darted around the room searching for any sign of him. Sam continued his leisurely pace, just stepping into the entry as I tugged on the door.
Nerves strung tight, I almost screamed at the sight of someone standing illuminated by the yard light on edge of the porch directly in front of the door. Instead, I only stopped abruptly. Not someone. Many someone’s. A whole group of werewolves. For that split second when I’d opened the door, I thought he had returned for me.
The men fortunately didn’t notice me, or my near heart attack, too busy watching something in the parking lot. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they blocked my view. I didn’t really care what had them so engrossed, I wanted to go home.
I heard Sam behind me and muttered a quick ‘excuse me’ moving around the small group. It took me less than a second to see the object of their attention. Once I spotted it, I couldn’t look away.
Sam’s truck had exploded. Ok, maybe not literally, but that’s what it looked like at first glance. The detached hood leaned against the right front fender. Dark shapes littered the ground directly in front of the truck. My mouth popped open when I realized I looked at scattered pieces of the truck’s guts. Little pieces, big pieces, some covered in sludge. Deep inside, I groaned a desperate denial. Not Sam’s truck. I needed it.
A clanking sound drew my attention from the carnage to the form bent over the front grill. He studied the gaping hole that had once lovingly cradled an engine – one with enough life to drive me home. He did this, the last man I’d met.
Sam’s voice directly behind me made me jump. “Gabby, honey, I don’t think he wants you to go just yet.”
My heart sank. Not only did the man’s actions screamed loud and clear, she’s mine, but Sam’s calm statement confirmed my worst fear. The Elders had noticed. My stomach clenched with dread for a moment. I wrestled with my emotions. No, it didn’t matter who noticed. I wasn’t giving up or giving in. I’d told Sam I’d come to the Introductions. I never agreed to follow their customs.
“There’s more than one vehicle here,” I said calmly.
“If we go inside to ask anyone else,” Sam said, “we’ll come back to more vehicular murder.”
I turned to look at Sam. He watched the man and probably his truck. He was right. I wouldn’t ask anyone else to deal with this guy’s obvious mental disorder by asking for a ride. As soon as that thought entered my mind, I felt a little guilty. I usually didn’t judge people. I preferred to avoid them altogether. But this guy made himself hard to ignore.
“Fine.” I shouldered my bag, packed light for these weekends on the premise that, if you over packed, you could be talked into staying longer. Easily light enough to walk a few miles carrying it. I turned and walked toward the main gate, pretending I didn’t hear Sam’s ominous warning.
“You won’t get far,” he said softly behind me.
The yard light’s luminosity didn’t extend under the branches canopying the compound’s dirt road. I marched toward the distinct boundary between light and dark with a hint of anxiety. The dark didn’t concern me as much as the things hiding within it. But my fear of what I’d felt toward that grimy man overshadowed any concern I had crossing over that boundary. Darkness blanketed me. I slowed while my eyes adjusted.
Crickets sang and night creatures distantly rustled in the undergrowth, nothing loud enough to concern me. Still, I used my other sight to watch for signs of pursuit. None of the sparks from the yard moved to follow me.