“I don’ think he killed her. I know he did. I heard him confess. And I don’t know his full name, or even if it’s his name at all. I only know what they call him.”
“And what would that be?” He leaned up against the wall, focusing on a light bulb in the ceiling that turned off and on every few seconds on its own, completely disinterested in my story.
“They call him King.”
His eyes went wide and his fingers loosened around the bag. He dropped the Cheetos to the ground.
Within a second, he’d bent over and grabbed me under my arms, yanking me to my feet. “Wait, what are you doing?” I asked as he shoved me toward the parking lot. My right foot twisted when I stepped on an uneven section of pavement, and I fell forward onto the road, skinning my hands and wrists.
“Go on and get! And don’t you ever fucking come back here!” he shouted. With his hands on his head, he spun around and waved his arms in the air in frustration. “I don’t need that kind of trouble here. Go, girl! If I see you again, next time it’ll be my shot gun escorting you out.”
He left me on the road and hustled back to the building, his back fat bouncing up and down as he disappeared behind a door with a window marked OFFICE. He drew the shade the instant he stepped inside.
I stood on shaky legs and wiped gravel from the wounds on my hands onto my t-shirt. The bottoms of my feet stung. My twisted ankle sent sharp pains through my shin with each step. My already bad limp became much more severe.
King apparently had reach. But how far? If I had any chance of seeking help for myself, or for Nikki, I had to get the hell out of Logan’s Beach, but I didn’t even know if I was going the right way.
My foot dragged behind me as if it were no longer attached to my body, but hanging on, like cans tied to the bumper of a car.
Hours passed, and although I’d been walking the entire time, I don’t think I’d gone very far. I could still see the apartment complex in the distance behind me.
Not a single car had passed me all day. My stomach was again protesting its emptiness, twisting and groaning. My face and ears were hot to the touch. The soles of my feet were thick and swollen, thankfully becoming numb to the constant scraping.
I trudged on.
For every inch the sun sank into the horizon, my anxiety increased. A brutally sunny day was again about to be cloaked in the darkness of night.
I came upon an old, abandoned bank with boarded up windows just as thunder rolled in the distance. The sky flashed as lightning jumped from cloud to cloud. I smelt the rain before I felt the first drop splatter on the tip of my nose.
I hobbled toward the covered awning of the drive-through, but I didn’t make it. The sky poured itself over me before I could reach shelter. By the time I took cover, I was sopping wet from head to toe, the blacktop underneath me turning brown as the water rinsed off the mud from the night before. I settled against the out of order ATM machine and sat down on the curb, resting my forehead against my knees.
I felt defeated. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I wished for one of the bolts of lightning to jump from the clouds and reach under the awning to strike me dead. Dead was better than unwanted.
Dead had to be better than this.
“Why hello there.” A voice said from out of nowhere.
Chills spread from my spine to my neck. Goosebumps broke out on my forearms. I looked up to find a man with a dirty grey beard standing over me. The wrinkles around his eyes spread over to his cheeks. Some of his front teeth were missing, and his chin was covered in red sores.
“You lost or something?” He smelled of rotten milk, his clothes were torn and tattered.
“Or something,” I muttered.
“I’m Ed,” he said, extending a hand. His fingernails each about an inch long and yellowed.
Realizing I wasn’t going to take his hand, he kneeled down to me, and my heart sped. Ed reached out a filthy hand and attempted to run a knuckle down my cheek. I shuddered and pulled away, jumping to my feet. I swayed unsteadily. Spots danced in front of my eyes. I grabbed the ATM on the wall to steady myself.
“Now don’t be rude to ole Ed. What’s your name?” he asked, licking his lips and adjusting the stained crotch of his once khaki pants.
“Um…nice meeting you, Ed,” I said as confidently as I could. “But I gotta go.” I tried to sidestep him, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my only exit.
“Why don’t you stay here and dry off for a while.” His eyes roamed down my body. His toothless smile grew bolder. “Although I like a woman who’s all wet.” He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
“Um, no thanks. I’m just waiting for my friend to pick me up,” I lied, wishing it were true. I made a move to sidestep him again, but this time he grabbed my arm. I tried to shake him loose, but even a child was stronger than me at that point. “Get off me!”