Chapter 15 #2
We spent no more than thirty minutes getting the essentials. The incident on the singular road from the west into this town finally hit the news, and although the descriptions of us were fuzzy at best, we didn’t want to risk it.
Amarah went to a pharmacy to gather what she needed for her injured arm, while Atlas and I got three tents, cooking materials, and everything we’d need to go camping.
We ditched the Mustang, and after I took out the rest of my cash from my bank account and deposited it into Atlas’s, we stole a more practical vehicle: a truck.
This is far more comfortable for me—I can stretch my legs, my arms are nearly at full extension holding the steering wheel, and we can take it off the beaten path.
The only thing that sucks is it’s a single bench seat, meaning I’ve got Amarah sitting upright and at attention between myself and Atlas.
She hasn’t relaxed since getting in, and we’ve been driving for nearly half a day since leaving Sylverton.
My friend hasn’t shut up about the baseball game—Sidence University lost to some lesser-known college in Nevadia.
I’m partial to football myself, but since they don’t let Dylox play, I prefer to watch it underground.
We finally make it out of the mountain ranges of Kulbolt and head into the central part of Nevadia.
“No pings yet.” Atlas finally says something of use as I pull off the main highway for gas.
“Are we planning on camping out every night, or are you going to drive until you inevitably crash?” He tucks his phone into the glove compartment and moves his arm over the back of the bench seat, looking at me over Amarah’s head.
“I’d prefer to only stop once we get a hit on a gate opening, but if you’d prefer, we can stop for you to sleep.”
“I can sleep anywhere.” He tilts his head, putting himself slightly in front of the girl.
“You were chained to a wall for eighteen hours of the day—” My hands literally bend the steering wheel, so I drop one into my lap quickly before I destroy our mode of transportation.
“Can’t imagine you mind sleeping in a car. ”
“I would prefer to stop.”
My hand moves in and out of a fist on my thigh as I pull us into the gas station.
“As you wish. You’re the important one here, after all.”
“Pfft. I need to pee.” The moment I park, she’s undoing her seatbelt, her hand brushing against my hip in the process. “Sorry—” She struggles a moment but finally gets it undone. I swear if my friend hadn’t been getting out of the car, she would’ve climbed over him to get out faster.
As she disappears into the small convenience store of the station, Atlas peers into the car. “You want anything? I don’t know, maybe a Xanax?”
I snarl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a bit moody, and you two are being awfully weird.”
Scoffing, I get out of the car and slam the door. “You’re the one acting strange. Stop being so friendly, she obviously is uncomfortable with it.”
“She’s uncomfortable with you, Kayn. I get it, but…” He walks around the front of the truck, checking toward the store before bringing his gaze back to mine. “I don’t think she did it.”
I roll my eyes back so fucking hard my temples hurt. “Because you look too deeply into what people say. You can’t do that, man. She’s obviously a manipulator.”
He checks again to make sure she’s not coming—I can only assume—but before he can continue, I cut him off.
“You haven’t seen war like I have, Atlas.
The ones always caught in the crossfire are kids.
She said it herself: none of them deserved what happened.
Maybe she’s so traumatized she blocked it all out, or maybe she’s a psychopath who actually thinks she didn’t do it.
They don’t just put innocent people into Thornegate.
” I grab the gas pump nozzle and shove it into the truck’s open tank port.
“Go pay, and never say some dumb shit like that again. It’s already hard enough without you trying to make her innocent. ”
When his tongue clicks against his teeth, I look up at him to see disappointment greet me. “I didn’t ask why you’re trying to go into the Beyond. It can’t be suicide, because you could just sever your head. I think whatever has you by the balls like this is impeding your judgment.”
“Watch it.”
“Just saying.” He throws his hands up. “I also never said she was innocent. I said I don’t think she was the one who did whatever happened in Sylverton that night seven years ago.”
“Because you’re so good at reading people.”
“No, because I’ve not had several lifetimes to question what good and bad is. I see things in the moment.” He gives me a wink. “You’re a good man—better than most. Stop being a dick.”
I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, when a weight crashes against my chest. It’s so heavy I grab the truck for support. I quickly look down, afraid I’ve been shot or something.
Nothing’s there.
Turning my head, I listen carefully. There are several voices inside the convenience store, but I’m listening for hers—or even just her heartbeat. It’s different from everyone else’s. It oddly sounds like the wind meeting a symphony of harps, always steady… always perfect.
I hear neither.
Instead, a guttural, demonic voice tears through the air causing me to turn and sprint into the store.
“Her Amarah. I have found you.”