Chapter Eight
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OAKLIE QUICKLY FOUND she couldn’t keep up with the gorgeous stranger. He left her in his proverbial dust, but he was heading straight for town. “Don’t get too excited,” she cautioned herself as she followed in his wake. “You don’t know if he’s mentally stable, or if he’s a total nutjob yet.”
Sensing him as she neared her town, she stopped a safe distance away and hid from his view.
She kept an invisible cloak around her power, clamping down on it tightly so he wouldn’t be able to detect her.
“I don’t even know what skills he has,” she whispered.
Not even her mom had known what sort of being her own daughter was.
She watched the stranger as he spied on the townsfolk as if they were highly interesting bugs.
Flinching when a shot rang out, Oaklie stayed put.
She’d seen this scenario play out before and knew what was coming next.
Two men battled to the death until one of them became the victor. His shout of triumph ended their fight.
“I hope it was worth it, loser,” she muttered, hearing him search the empty store. Like her, the handsome guy she was stalking wasn’t impressed. He shook his head before moving on.
“What’s he doing?” she asked after following him for a few hours. Staying out of sight, he’d approached the occupied buildings in and around town, moving outwards until he’d gotten close to all of them. “Is he taking a census?” she murmured, then snickered quietly.
Her amusement fled when she caught a glimpse of his expression when he packed it in for the day.
He looked almost lost as he headed back to town.
She was glad he hadn’t extended his search.
Just the thought of him finding her home made her uneasy.
He was an unknown entity as yet. She still hadn’t worked out if he was safe enough to approach.
To her surprise, the hot guy came to a sudden stop when he reached the boutique that sold her carvings. He broke into the store and began looking around in sheer wonder. “At least he has good taste,” Oaklie said, then took the opportunity to move closer.
Sidling up to the back door, she cautiously sent out her senses.
He definitely wasn’t human, but she still didn’t know what he was.
Unlike everyone she’d met since the Rapture, his soul wasn’t black or gray, but white.
“He feels noble,” she whispered incredulously, then figured it had to be a trick to lure idiots like her into a false sense of security.
Backing away, she hurried back to the front of the store and watched him from hiding.
He wasn’t faking his admiration as he perused her art.
A shiver of pleasure worked its way down her spine.
She’d never seen anyone so entranced with her woodwork before.
He came to a stop at the stag last. It was her finest piece, or it had been before she’d created the naked statue of the man she hadn’t completed yet.
“Hey, that’s worth eight hundred bucks!” she whispered in anger when he picked the stag up and tucked it under his arm.
She watched him steal the statue in impotent fury, then followed in his wake.
“I should have broken in and taken it back,” Oaklie chastised herself.
Money had no meaning anymore, so it wasn’t like anyone was going to pay for her hard work.
The stag was the one item she would have chosen to rescue and the stranger had just made off with it.
The thief headed straight for the pale blue house he was now shacked up in.
She stopped in the same spot she’d used for cover earlier.
“As soon as he leaves, I’m breaking in there and stealing my stag back,” she said in determination.
Unfortunately, it didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon.
Oaklie’s stomach rumbled an hour later and she desperately needed to pee. “Screw this, I’ll come back tomorrow,” she decided in a surly tone.
Turning to leave, she sprinted back the way she’d come.
She avoided the town and made it home without running into any trouble and without being followed by anyone.
Sending out her senses, she determined the house hadn’t been broken into by anyone.
“As if they could make it over the fence,” she scoffed, then opened the gate.
The thick logs parted, then became rejoined after she was safely inside the property.
Oaklie used the facilities, glad her home had its own dam for a water supply. The septic tank did its job to get rid of her waste. The only thing she lacked was a steady supply of electricity. She found she didn’t really need it, since she had the gas stove and battery-operated lights.
Eating canned vegetables for dinner, she wished she had some bread to go with it, but didn’t have the ingredients to bake some. “I ran out weeks ago,” she grumbled.
Still put out about her stag being stolen, Oaklie headed to the clearing to get rid of the body.
When she’d slung it up on a tree with vines as a warning, she resumed working on the carving.
She’d found a huge log from a fallen tree and had carried it to her favorite outdoor spot.
It had taken her weeks to use her power to shape it into the perfectly formed male figure.
“Now it’s time to shape his face,” she said, switching on the camping lamps so she could see clearly. Her night vision was excellent, but she preferred light when using her talent to sculpt her creations.
Wind stirred the leaves on the trees that still retained them as Oaklie summoned her power. She reached up to touch the blank face and closed her eyes. Magic flowed from her into the former log. Slowly but surely, the wood moved beneath her fingers, obeying her whims.
Oaklie never watched her sculptures come to life, only checking on them periodically.
She pictured what she wanted them to look like and her magic did the rest. Intricate work took a lot out of her and sapped her energy.
This figurine had taken more time and power than usual.
She’d felt compelled to get it exactly right.
Hours passed and midnight approached. Running her hands over the hair she’d just finished, Oaklie opened her eyes.
She found herself staring up into eyes that were an exact duplicate for the thief’s who’d stolen her stag.
“Damn it!” she said in annoyance, taking a few steps back to study the sculpture.
Sure enough, she’d given her finest work the face of the stranger who’d just come to town.
Blowing out a sigh, she was tempted to make some alterations, but her gut told her not to.
Like it or not, this was the finished product.
“It’s not like he’s ever going to see it,” she reasoned with a grimace.
Now feeling exhausted, she didn’t have the energy to carry it to her house yet.
It should be safe enough where it was for now.
Her magic had infused the wood and it would prevent the weather from ruining it.
Muttering beneath her breath, Oaklie headed back to the house.
The fence parted, then closed behind her.
She didn’t need a key to open the door now.
Her magic had altered the barrier. The door had become fused to the frame and would only open for her magic.
It obeyed her mental order when she placed her hand on it, then opened.
Closing the door, she glanced back and watched the cracks seal shut again. The wooden shutters on the windows were the same. No one could get in unless she wanted them to. Steel would have been stronger, but her talent was tied to organic matter rather than metal.
Oaklie took a quick shower, once again glad the house was hooked up to gas.
Her bedroom was at the end of the hallway on the second floor.
The house felt empty and lonely with just her in it.
She paused to glance inside the master bedroom where her parents had vanished in their sleep.
“I miss you mom and dad,” she said, heart heavy with her loss.
Tears threatened her as she trudged to her bedroom and locked herself in tightly. She often stayed up late, hoping to make herself so tired that she wouldn’t have nightmares. Unfortunately, it didn’t work this time. Once again, she recounted the morning after the Rapture in full bloody detail.