I didn’t want to die, but all those dreams had prepared me for what would come next. Dani and Cadence needed to get out of range. Now. Memories of blood and carnage, of the gory ending of past lives, flitted around in my mind. My heart tripled its rhythm at the remembered pain.
“I need a minute,” I said to Dani and Cadence. My voice remained calm and steady. Weary acceptance filled my lungs and radiated throughout.
They nodded and moved a few feet away. I glanced at the rent-a-cop. Her attention once again rested on me. I knew better than to try calling for her help but still felt a small glimmer of hope. Maybe I was safe. Maybe the crowd was enough.
He watched me expectantly, his eyes causing my stomach to do erratic flips of joy. One of their kind always called to me like that. Messing with my insides, my emotions, pulling me to them like a moth to a flame. Just like the poor winged creature, it never ended well for me.
“I do not smell amazing,” I said softly, trying to keep anyone from overhearing. “I smell like I need a shower. Badly.”
He frowned, held up his hands in a placating manner, and said, “No offense, luv. I’m just looking for the loo.”
I stared at him for a moment, the wild beat of my heart pounding in my ears as I tried to decide what game he played. Barely lifting my hand, I pointed to the right near the rent-a-cop wondering how long he’d keep up the pretense.
He nodded his thanks, but didn’t move. He hesitated. His eyes swept my face. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say more. Instead, he jammed his hands into his pockets and walked away.
Stunned, I watched him leave. My mind tried to keep up with what my eyes processed. One of them was walking away from me. What did it mean? It meant I wasn’t dead. Yet. I knew what I needed to do. Wait...wait for it. He kept walking away. I felt Dani join me as my eyes remained riveted on the man. He didn’t glance back, not once, before rounding the corner to the bathrooms.
“Don’t come back here,” I whispered to Dani.
Then, I ran.
The overgrown, low border hedges lining the sidewalk of my house loomed ahead. I hurtled them neatly, not knowing I had it in me. Palming the key from my pocket, I slid it into the lock of the front door entering the house only seconds after leaping into the yard. I slammed the door behind me and didn’t bother looking out the window to see if I had been followed. Either he would break down the door or not. Looking wouldn’t change the outcome, and I couldn’t waste time. Not a second.
My bedroom slowed me down a bit as I waded through the ankle-deep clothes swamp. Snatching the grey duffle from under the bed, I crammed in whatever lay nearby until I couldn’t fit more. I struggled with the zipper, and the harsh panting of my breath filled the room.
Could he follow my scent even though I had taken the bus most of the way home? Would it slow him down?
I grabbed the dwindling supply of money I’d stashed away for a car and stuffed it in my bra.
Was I taking too long?
Hands shaking, I hefted the duffle. Its heavy weight settled on my shoulder anchoring me to the reality of here and now as I left my room. I needed to catch another bus. This time it would need to take me much further.
Mom’s note on the refrigerator caught my eye. I stopped moving and stared at it. My throat tightened. She wouldn’t understand why I left, and I would never be able to come home. The grief turned into fear when I thought of what she would do after she realized I was gone. She would do everything she could to find me again. Police. Newspapers. Radio. If she called too much attention to herself, to me...I shuddered at the possibilities.
I hastily searched for paper and pen. I had to give her a reason for disappearing. The message hurt to write. My hand shook as I signed it. Then, I pulled out my cell phone and set it on the kitchen table along with the note.
Mom,
School’s not for me. I want to see the world. I’m sorry for leaving like this, but hope you’ll understand someday.
Bethony
The words screamed at me from the paper. Lies. She’d be hurt and confused, but what else could I say? Tell her about the monsters who would come and threaten her for information? No, she’d go to the police with whatever I wrote. They’d think I just needed a padded room for a while.
But the people looking for me? When they came—and they would come—she would probably show them the note hoping they might help find me. If they thought she knew something more, they would hurt her to get it. Keeping her in the dark might help keep her safe. I didn’t even want to tell her that I loved her, fearing they’d see it as leverage.
I left my house, jogging toward the bus stop I knew had pickups heading out of town. I didn’t turn to look at my house one last time, though I wanted to. I kept focused on what I needed to do.