Chapter 3 First Sighting
First Sighting
Lawrie
On Saturday, I was as far away from Sullivan and Burnes’ headquarters as little me could afford to go.
The contrast was remarkable. Out here, I could almost forget the city even existed.
The hike through Cross River Valley cleansed my mind, and even after twelve miles in the demanding terrain, I felt invigorated instead of tired.
I would have prolonged the route with another couple of miles, but Josh was dragging his feet, and twilight happened fast up here.
I glanced behind me, saying a quiet farewell to the mountains. The peaks looked even more majestic against the darkening sky, seemingly closer, tilting toward us even as we were leaving.
A sudden movement above the treetops made me freeze.
“Josh, wait. I think I saw something.”
I barely knew what I was looking for as I stared into the falling night. The inky blue sky flickered with the first stars, deep and endless, while the rapidly darkening forest hummed around us.
“C’mon, Lawrence,” Josh whined. “We have at least half a mile back to the car. If we get eaten by wolves, I’m not talking to you for a month.”
I wasn’t addressing the logic of Josh’s last sentence and instead focused on the facts. “There are no wolves in Cross River Valley.”
What was that? I squinted over the treetops and along the mountainside. It seemed like a cloud but moving faster, like a shadow of something big flying above the mountains. A plane? “There!” I pointed to where the stars momentarily disappeared above the black silhouettes of trees.
“Probably a bird,” Josh said in a bored tone. “Let’s go.”
Definitely not a bird. It couldn’t be anything nearly as commonplace or as small. My heart pounded against my ribs, and my body filled with nervous energy. Josh’s shoes made an awful crunching noise on the gravel.
“Wait,” I hissed at my friend.
He stilled behind me while I strained my eyes into the dark sky. It made no sense, but something told me it was vital I’d go and find that shadow. I took one step forward. Then another.
“Stop acting crazy. I want to go home.”
The forest had fallen eerily quiet around us, not a chirp from a sparrow, not even a buzz of a single bug disturbing the silence.
Something lurked here in the complete stillness, something enormous, and nature knew.
The presence beckoned me, tempting me into the forest and up the mountain, far away into the skies, to the horizon, and beyond.
Before I knew it, I was walking up the hill in the opposite direction from our car.
“Lawrence!” Josh shouted after me, but I ignored him. This was more important. It called to me urgently, needing me.
Where are you? What are you? Yes, I’m coming, no worries.
A faint breeze caressed my face just once, and the forest felt suddenly empty.
Whatever had taken over the valley for a moment, it was gone again.
I stood like a statue on the hiking path, looking into the blackness while a cricket began its ruckus somewhere in the nearby bushes and another joined in.
Now when the moment of lunacy passed, I swiftly turned around and hurried back to Josh. “Sorry.”
“You’re nuts,” he grumbled.
I didn’t contradict him; I felt nuts. We strode down the path, the white gravel just visible enough so we wouldn’t wander off the trail and fall into a ditch.
“It’s been nice and all, but I’m glad to be back in the car,” Josh said as he closed the door on the driver’s side fifteen minutes later. “You should be happy since we didn’t meet a single soul for the whole day.”
“Thanks for today, Josh. It was great.”
The hike was an early Christmas present of sorts.
Josh, my roommate and best friend, knew I liked nothing more than a quiet day in a sprawling forest or on rocky mountain slopes with no other people around.
He’d borrowed a car from his uncle so we could go hiking in the valley.
Cross River was one of the closest strips of wild nature to where we lived, a two-hour drive, and since I didn’t have a car, I could never go by myself.
I’d looked forward to the trip like a little kid.
Now I stared out of the passenger window wistfully as the Ardaine city skyline emerged in the distance in front of us. Back to everyday reality, our tiny apartment, and my toiling at Sullivan and Burnes.
“So it was a good idea, right?” Josh asked.
“A fantastic idea,” I agreed. “You’re the best.”
“I’m starving, though. Do we have something left?”
I rooted in my backpack and handed him the last protein bar. I was hungry too, but Josh was driving and he needed the calories more.
“Perfect, thanks.” He bit off a large chunk. “Toby is having a party on Friday,” he said with his mouth full. “If you get bored at that gala, come over.”
“You know I can’t.”
“Your boss is a tyrant. You do like five hours of unpaid overtime weekly at least, and they want you to work on major holidays as well?”
On New Year’s Eve, instead of partying with my friends like every normal twenty-two-year-old, I had to be at the gala my employer was organizing. Not for my entertainment, of course, but for appearances.
“Sullivan is reassuringly predictable in his nastiness,” I said. “I mean, he’s a prick, but at least he keeps his hands to himself, which can’t be said about Harry Burnes.”
“What do you have to do at the gala anyway?”
“Greet people, show them to the cloakroom, direct them to the bar. Not get drunk. Smile, look pretty. All the assistants and receptionists have to be there and ‘be the face of the company’ as Burnes calls it. I only hope there’ll be enough choices for him so he won’t hit on me again.”
“That’s so demeaning.”
“Two words, Josh. Student loan.”
“I know. But you’re Sullivan’s assistant. Shouldn’t you get some exception from such bullshit?”
“If Sullivan gave a damn about me, sure.” I shrugged. It was pointless to get worked up about it. “I’ll stay for a couple more years to gain some experience on paper, and then I’ll hopefully find something else.”
“Sullivan should be grateful you’re staying. Didn’t the fluctuation on the position of his assistant blow the company’s HR statistics? He should be schmoozing you at the gala and not use you to schmooze others.”
I snorted. “If I’m lucky, I’ll get to have a consolation drink later, but not before ten.”
“Maybe we could do something in January. Go out and compensate for you missing New Year’s with us.”
“That would be awesome.”
After returning the car, we took the bus to our apartment. We arrived after ten, beat and hungry, and Josh showered while I shoved a frozen pizza into the oven.
My feet aching but belly pleasantly full, I lay in my bed and remembered the peculiar experience on the hiking trail today.
Usually, mysterious occurrences were Josh’s domain.
He believed in fate, horoscopes, soul animals and whatnot, while I had always been the rational one, making fun of him by pretending to cleanse his aura when he got snippy.
Today, I’d felt something. I couldn’t explain it, not even to myself, but something had been out there above Cross River Valley, and it had called out to me.
Maybe I should have been scared, but I couldn’t find any fear in me when I thought of it, only a vague excitement and a strange longing to go back there and find whatever it was.
Maybe I missed the forest on a much deeper level than I’d realized.
I wasn’t built for living in the city. I hated the crowds and the constant noise, and shopping malls were my version of hell.
But beggars couldn’t be choosers. I wouldn’t be able to return to the mountains for weeks to come, so I’d better remember today with fondness and save the positive energy.
My boss was a terrifying cantankerous old monster of a man.
He wasn’t technically that old—Davidson Sullivan celebrated his forty-fourth birthday last month in his usual way, alone at his mansion—but he sure behaved like a bitter, old man.
And he seemed to especially despise young omegas like me.
Why he’d chosen me as his assistant, I’d never know.
Probably because he needed an outlet for the hatred brewing in his foul heart so he wouldn’t explode and paint his oversized designer office with the rotten gunk he was surely made of.
“This is unacceptable, Lawrence.”
Mr. Sullivan towered above me, and as he glared down at me, his black eyebrows bristling, he seemed to grow even taller.
His eyes had this weird brown hue with what I could swear was a band of fiery orange color around his pupils.
He was built like a tank too, walking into most doors sideways.
Like I said, terrifying. I didn’t say anything.
Apologies or excuses would only make it worse.
“I expect you to fix this. Today.”
There went my Friday night. I dared to sneak a peek at the clock on the wall behind him. It was half past six already.
It didn’t matter that he’d told me before to sort the old files according to the date.
He’d changed his mind and would pretend it was always supposed to be sorted based on topics, then alphabetically, and then according to the date issued.
In the fifteen months I’d worked for him, he’d never once admitted that he was wrong in anything. I looked down and gave a single nod.
“You won’t report this as paid overtime. It was your responsibility, and you failed to deliver.”
He smacked his laptop shut and walked out of the office, banging the door behind him.
With a deep sigh, I pulled out my phone and shot a text to my roommate.
Me: Have to stay at the office for two more hours, sorry.
Josh: WTF? The monster boss giving you a hard time again?
Me: Something like that. I must finish this. See you later.
Josh: You need another job, man.
Yes, I did need another job, but my student debt wouldn’t pay itself.
Two hours later, I was packing my things, my eyesight a little blurry after staring at the screen for hours without pause.