1. Chapter 1 #3
“Good flight?” the driver asked. His clipped, gravelly voice told me everything I needed to know about life here, and I let Isla answer. She was better with people than me.
“Fabulous,” Isla said, the sarcasm missed by the old man, who beamed broadly, proud of his home. He was bundled up completely, his stocky frame encased by layers upon layers of down and wool and his scent was honest — grease and dirt and smoke — I liked him.
“Name’s Culver. You’re bunking at Talinstay, right?” He shifted into gear and backed up, then swung onto a narrow, bumpy road.
“Yeah,” I said before Isla had a chance to rip into him — she didn’t ‘bunk’ anywhere. “Nice to meet you. I’m Max and this is Isla.”
“That’s a pretty name,” Culver said, smiling at Isla, who was trying her hardest to behave. “Spanish?”
“Something like that.” Isla said dryly and turned her attention to the scenery.
“So what brings you here?”
“We’re doing some work on the array. I can't really say more than that.”
“I thought the government had decommissioned those dishes years ago. Last I heard, they were being torn down.” I glanced at Isla, letting her handle this part. She was better at lying than me.
“You know how things have been lately with our neighbors to the west. We've recommissioned several important government assets in the region. Unfortunately I can't go into more detail than that.”
God, she was good.
“Makes sense, I guess. How long you here for?” The guy wanted to talk, people in these places usually did. They didn’t get a lot of excitement so anything out of the ordinary was fodder for weeks of quality gossip.
“I’m leaving tomorrow night,” Isla said. “My friend here will be staying for at least a month.”
Culver proceeded to tell us about the island and most of its residents and I zoned out, letting Isla deal with our verbose driver as we shuddered over the ragged roads.
After thirty minutes, a few buildings appeared out of nowhere, lining the small road and indicating that we’d reached town.
There wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing and I returned my attention back to the conversation.
“This is it,” Culver announced as we jerked to a stop and he shifted into park.
The old Bronco shuddered off and Isla shoved the door open, letting me out.
I was exhausted and starving and I hoped that they had something decent on the menu.
I just wanted to eat and pass the fuck out in whatever shitty room the goverment had booked for me.
Only thirty more years, Max. Then you can retire to your cabin and spend your days sinking slowly into ferality.
That thought didn't give me hope.
“Well, it was nice to meet you folks. My wife, Eileen, will get you checked in and I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” Culver got back into the SUV and pulled away as I stared at the two story wooden structure in front of me, then slung my bag over my shoulder and picked up Isla’s suitcase.
“Why is this so heavy if you’re only here for a few days? How much shit do you need?” She shrugged noncommittally, then led the way inside.
The building was relatively new, but it was sturdy and tight and a fire crackled in the stone fireplace built into the far wall. It was cozy. I liked cozy. A room with tables and chairs sat to my left and a reception desk was situated to our right.
The tidy, wood paneled lobby was empty. There was a nice pine smell, clean, sterile.
I hated those flowery room deodorizers. You could smell the dirt beneath, the mold, the little impurities that were hard to get out, but this place was well maintained and I appreciated that.
A staircase to the second floor stood in front of us and I grimaced as I noticed a wolf head hanging on the far wall.
“Hello!” A voice rang out from somewhere in the back.
A few seconds later an older woman with grey braids and enough natural padding to stay warm in a place like this shuffled through the door and situated herself behind the front desk.
Her features were disparate, but her smile was nice, genuine and I immediately liked her.
“You must be Mr Grayson and Miss….” She slid her finger down an old fashioned ledger and located our names, then put on her glasses and typed something into the computer with two fingers.
“de Witt. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.
I’ve got you in rooms five and six,” she placed the keys on the counter.
“And I hope you have a lovely stay with us.”
I grabbed Isla's bag and we walked up the narrow staircase and into a long hall with rooms located on both sides. We were next to each other and I put the bags down and leaned against the door frame, hoping she would invite me in.
“Meet you downstairs for dinner?” she asked.
“Yeah, I need a shower,” I said lightly as I traced my finger across her porcelain jaw, trying to focus on her features, but they wouldn't come together.
She inserted her key, opening the door and slipping inside, alone.
I sighed, then stumbled into my own room, stripping and showering before heading downstairs for something to eat.