Soulful

Fate brought them together, Destiny will tear them apart. Their irrevocable connection seamless except for one detail, they've never met.

1

 

 

The serenity of the lush landscape showed no evidence of the dangers lurking in the shadows. Just days ago I witnessed the horror forever engrained in my memory along with the other attempts on my life. In my sixteen years there have been sixty-two attempts on my life; eighteen near fatal. My name is Talia Rose I’ve been on the run most of my life hunted. I knew secrets the common person couldn’t understand. Ideas a realist doubts; images that would give anyone nightmares.

            I rested my head on the edge of the open window everything much different then our last location; the air moist from the dissipating fog not dry and stale. My pale cheeks reddened with the gusts of wind whipping at my face. We were drowning in a sea of forestry a beauty I longed for while stationed in the desert. The distant stretch of road before us muddied by the overshadow of the for trees; the sun dipping behind their tips signaling to the end of the day. I absorbed all our surroundings not with excitement but with curiosity. I’d fallen asleep early into our trip and missed out on our usual distractions; leaving no chance to dwell on notions of a normal life.  Sophie expected me to repeat the escape plan she devised over and over.  The words repeated in my mind go to the second closest safe house, if I don’t hear anything after twenty-four house I move onto the next safe house and after seventy-two hours I will call Wesley.

            Sophie’s erratic speeds slowed once we were far enough away. We hovered around the sane constant speed. Beside me she remained stoic and silent not the qualities you would expect from someone of her appearance. Most were envious of her beauty; her luscious dark hair always pulled into a tight ponytail complemented her tan skin masking what was inside the depths and compassion of her soul. It also disguised her training in hand to hand combat and the fact she never strayed far from her shot gun. As my guardian she stayed focused on the task at hand seldom deviating.

            Dipping down into the gravel road just off the highway only visible to the keen eye; our bags jostled in the bed of the truck as the wheels bounced off roots and rocks. Branches scraping along the sides as we squeezed between tree trunks rooted for hundreds of years. Only a few pieces of the orange cicle sky were visible through the wild limbs. With nothing in sight I once again was forced to trust Sophie. She’d given up any ideas of a future life in order to protect me, therefore she seemed deserving of my trust.

            The shallow ravine came up suddenly, bracing myself for impact we accelerated down and out of the ravine with clean precision executed with Sophie’s cool demeanor. Crossing the rocky stream the cabin became visible. The aged cabin built more than a century ago barely held its ground against time. Molten leaves corroded at the base of the cabin while roots cracked through the dirt and uprooted the small makeshift bridge crossing the shallow stream guarding the entrance. Reluctant to climb from the safety of the cab I gathered my bags stalling longer than normal. Stepping out the air smelled sweet and the soft breeze peaked my curiously of the cabin appearance years ago.

            The cabin was not a good representation of our normal safe houses most had been welcomed into the twenty-first century but recent events called for drastic measures. Despite the age of the cabin and that no one had entered for years the place had remained well-kept; the only dust could be found on a few dishes and a candle holder.  The open room bare except for ragged green arm chair, the wooden table and chairs. An open window allowed the only light into the room. To the left of the do a petite bedroom appeared well-kept. Sophie’s look of apprehension mirrored my own distaste with our location. Communication never necessary between us, over the years we’d become accustomed to each others non-verbal cues. Sophie’s cues hadn’t been hard to pick up on, she had a clear set of reactions. She operated with a particular skill set taught to her at a young age. Not long after Sophie’s birth she was sent to live with her grandfather. He taught her the skillful art of protection. From the moment she arrived she learned the proper way to survive training in hand to hand combat and weapons control. At the age of eighteen her grandfather sent her in search of me. Sophie spoke of her grandfather with high regard yet she described these years with much sorrow. She drifted from town to town alone searching. Many years passed before the fateful night of our meeting.

            Following her lead to the table she unloaded her bags off her shoulders scanning the room, no doubt in search of a heat source.

            “Perfect! I’m going to go get some wood and make the rounds.” Her stare lingered on the coal stove near the corner. Her actions routine a canvass of  the safe house a necessity no matter what time of day. Within a few strides she made it to the door and hesitated.

            “You’re on dinner duty!” Sophie’s command startled me, her routine shifted. After she made her rounds we partook in childish antics to decide who was in charge of the meals.

            “What?”  Touching her finger to her nose signaling her triumph; our games helped ease the severity of the situations. Though I normally lost I still strived to win. Neither of us enjoyed cooking mostly because we weren’t particularly good at it.  Sophie was skilled in most tasks she never mastered cooking. As for myself I haven’t been able to master anything other than a toaster and a microwave and since we were lacking in both tonight’s main course would be some sort of canned food. Truthfully I’d rather be out making the rounds or at least getting wood but the likelihood of Sophie allowing me that far from her sight were slim. She offered a certain amount of distance but weeks after an attack she rarely left my side. Most days I forced away my disdain offering some tolerance.

            After a less than satisfying meal and being conned into cleaning dishes I retired to the chair closest to the coal stove with my sketch pad. Sophie’s clutter at the table came from her array of weaponry. A weapon for every circumstance, but she always kept her grandfather’s shot gun at her side. My greatest comfort came from strokes of the pen; the evolution of an image with the contours of a line. The same image had been evoked over the last few months. The realization of the image always came as I finished the last few strokes. His square jaw almond shaped eyes and thick dark hair. He was man whom I’d only seen in my dreams, but who inhabited most of my waking thoughts.

            “Hey T, I need your help.” Sophie interrupted the swirl of thoughts racing through my mind. She had a unusual knack for interrupting my most personal thoughts.

            “Fine.” My declared response showed my irritation and Sophie was well aware. I tended to avoid her while she tended to the weapons while the memories from the night my parent died still lingered.

            “Don’t worry I just need you to grab the map.” Crossing to Sophie’s other duffel I pulled out the rolled map. The map tracked every place we’d lived over the years. The blue dots represented every safe house from Washington to Florida. The red dots signified the places we lived and the places we could never return. Before I could retreat back to the serenity of my sketch she spoke.

            “I need you to find the next safe house.”

            “Me?”

            “Don’t look so surprised, you need to learn the ropes some time.” She smiled and drew her attention back to the table. Feeling the pressure to find a safe house I studied the dots. Each dot triggered a memory, a moment in time forever in my mind. Our nomadic lifestyle dispersed across the states. The blue dots were most apparent in every state while the red dots spread across seven states. We were not able to set roots in a house for very long instead we traveled from one safe house to the next. I once lived a twenty first century life, school not an option but interactions with people my own age were plausible. All of that changed after the last series of attacks, one in particular where we both almost lost our lives.

            We had been cornered high up on a mountain top, snow from the previous weeks melted beneath our feet, overlooking a steep drop into frigid waters. With no other choice we leaped off the cliff. I remember feeling the sharp sting of the water and then nothing. I awoke two days later miles away. Since that moment we jumped from safe house to safe house; driving for days at a time crossing the continent in search of safety. Sleep helped pass the time but you can only sleep before restlessness sets in with an aching and desire for a normal life. A surge of exhaustion resulted from the overhaul of emotions.

            “You don’t have to decide tonight go get some rest we’ll talk tomorrow.” Her hand on my shoulder a source of comfort an action I’d taken for granted. With some reluctance, and persistence from Sophie I rolled up the map. I drifted off to the bedroom glancing back at Sophie as she cleaned each weapon with craftsmanship and ease, taking responsibility over every aspect of our lives.

 

∞

He had been in my dreams before. He never spoke to me but was always there watching me, his piercing blue eyes penetrating my core. It seemed the past few months I could not escape him, as unsettling as this was, I was comforted by him. Knowing he would always be there.

            The tall, ungainly figure was intriguing. He reminded me of my father I had been too young to remember my parents. Sophie guarded several of our family photographs William Armstrong persevered through his lean appearance, his striking features, and unconditional kindness present in his eyes.

            With most of my dreams, once I was close to him I would awake dazed and confused still searching.

            This night I was closer.  Following him for miles through the dense wooded outback. The smell of pine and mud clouded my senses. The forest had its own rhythm, one that had taken me months to adapt to; the drip of water from the leaves, the sway of the branches, the constant rustle of the forest animals. Tonight, the silence was deafening, the only sound came from the snapping of twigs under our feet.

             Hustling trying not to lose him, the distance continued to grow between us. Ever so often, he would turn to look at me. Did he want me to follow? Would I finally be able to catch him?

            Thud!

            Thud!

            I tumbled head over heels, laying on the pine needles giving up. Looking at my scraped elbow, and knee, remembering the structure of his face, the intricate details of his angular jaw I forced myself to move.

             I stood and looked for him but he was out of my line of sight. I lost him! How could I lose him! My heart raced, disrupting my thoughts. I had to find him before I woke up. His awkward movement made it hard to follow his tracks. I could smell a distinct scent beyond the wooded clearing up ahead, I couldn't make out the aroma, it burned the inside of my nose.  I passed through the clearing into a small alcove spring.

            The alcove spring, seemed a serene place, as though it had been kept from the human touch. The rough terrain caused disaster for those unfamiliar with the land. The trees, ferns, and other plants had grown around the waterfall, a sprat of mist directed my attention to the small lagoon below it.  The hollow cliff beyond the waterfall must have been the home for many animals, as it provided shelter from the elements. I was caught off guard when I saw his crumpled heap of a body lying on the edge of a rock overlooking the lagoon. I raced to his side terrified of waking up. I had to know who this was. He couldn't die, I wouldn't let him.

            Making my way to him the distinct burning smell was now more obvious as blood. Three scratch marks covering his torso gushed blood. I took him into my arms feeling responsible. His body warm to my touch, and pierced my soul giving way to grief. He shivered. He was losing blood fast. Wiping blood from his face was harder than imagined, feeling his delicate complexion terrified me, applying pressure to his wounds solved nothing. He was dying and there was nothing I could do.

            “Help.” His voice was bittersweet. I had longed to be here, to hear his voice to feel a connection, but not like this, it shouldn't be like this.  His voice was smooth and tender, and comforting. He squeezed my hand, his body propelled into convulsions.

            “What can I do?” Tears poured like buckets of hopelessness, death now branded in my mind. I held my hand in his holding pressure on his cuts, but it didn't make much of a difference, he bled out in large quantities. He faded in and out of consciousness, his breathing turned erratic and less frequent. His beautiful eyes glazed over losing his soul in the milky white.

            “Who did this to you?” Hindered by the fear that his attacker might show itself again I held him closer. His grip lessened, I held his quivering body closer desperate for answers.

I bolted upright, in a dry sweat, my dirty blonde waves matted to the side of my face. My lungs burned as I tried to catch my breath, and tears trickled down my paler than normal cheek.

His piercing blue eyes lingered in my mind, his bittersweet voice and warm touch filled the corners of my mind. I couldn't help but feel guilty, I had gotten what I wanted, his touch, to hear his voice, but at what expense, his life? That wasn't how I wanted it to be. I was terrified. I had been scared before, but never like this, a different kind of fear. What I feared most was never seeing his face again.

I focused trying to make sense of my surroundings. The only light glimmered from the fading coals in the stove beyond the crack in the door. Adjusting my eyes to the darkness my other senses honed in on the voices from the next room. Before being consumed by my dreams I left Sophie alone by the fireplace. I recognized her soft yet commanding voice. The second voice I also recognized though I couldn’t believe it. The cold wood slats under my feet. The cold was necessary for our safety. Heat and light would draw attention. Discretion was our only strategy.

It’s not safe here anymore, they know where she is, they’re coming for her.” His voice gruff and passionate; although he was young he could invigorate anyone. He had been in and out of our lives, never knowing of his next arrival but his haste in this dark hour unleashed a powerful realization of despair. Once calm and collected he appeared erratic dashing from bag to bag shaving every visible piece into any bag.

“I haven’t heard anything!” Sophie became defensive.

“Of course you wouldn’t, that’s the point!” His silhouette unmistakable, his strong back to me I easily imagined the ridge of his nose damaged after many breaks. His presence a familiarity faded yet not forgotten.

“Wesley? What’s going on?” Sophie suddenly aware of my presence, he turned and I saw the concern.

“Guy?” They both avoided my question Sophie now joined Wesley jamming the bags.

“We’re leaving” Wesley took my hand, strong and deliberate whisking me from cottage I knew this feeling all too well. Clouds were sparse amongst the night sky allowing the stars to be exposed.  A slight drizzle moistened the dirt, cleansing the air and leaving single tear drop on the edge of a nearby leaf.

“Quickly, Quickly.” His voice hushed yet powerful. He tugged at my arm leading to the truck. Sophie paused and I now realized the severity of the situation.

“Sophie!”

“Wesley give me the keys to your motorcycle.” He tossed the bags into the truck ignoring her.

“You know we’ll never make it without a distraction.” She continued to ramble on.

“There isn’t time, we need to go now!” Wesley’s response displeased her.

            “Wesley I am not asking you!” Her voice surprised us both.

“What are you going to do?” Questioning her not an act that came natural, her words always commanded us into action.

            “We need a distraction.”

            “You can’t its not safe!” Arguing with also not a task I enjoyed over the years it dwindled and now I couldn’t remember the last time we argued.

            “Do you trust me?” Stroking the side of my hair, an event which hadn’t occurred since I was a young girl; this evoked the realization of her intentions.

            “No, you can’t. Don’t do it!”

            “I have to, it will be alright!”  Pulling her leather jacket from her shoulders she wrapped it around me, while it was a mere tactic to throw off my location I sensed a much deeper significance.

            “You can’t leave me, please don’t leave me!” I hadn't even realized I was crying until Sophie wiped the streaming tears from my cheek.

            “There isn’t time, you need to hurry.”

            “I am not leaving you!”

            “There is no other choice.”

            “There is, I’m staying.” Stepping away from Wesley I took a stance closer to Sophie.

            “Wesley, take her, go on get out of here!” Sophie hugged me; it wasn't her normal awkward hug, but an expression of a painful decision. I clung to Sophie fearful of letting her go. She risked so much I once hoped to repay her.

            “I love you.”

            “Sophie please.” I felt Wesley’s strong grip around my waist as he pulled us apart; my resistance no match for his strength. His lean posture was strong enough to keep me safe not only from the physical dangers but from my own emotional torment. Sophie raced to the motorcycle without glancing back. Revving the drowned out the snarls as Wesley shoved me into the cab of the truck. I fought to keep my eyes on Sophie hoping not to loose her from my sight.

            The cabin faded from my sight as we maneuvered through the woods, the main road would have been an obvious option. Instead we moved blind without headlights, between trees. Numb, my insides wrenched as I thought of Sophie.

“We have to go back!” My words were inaudible as I tried to break through the anger and sobs.

            “Even if we could, we’d catch up to her.” 

            “How could you let her do that?” Infused with rage I inflicted it all upon Wesley.

            “I can’t punish her for choice I almost made.” More reserved than normal, my overflow of words acted as bitter jabs to his heart, no doubt he just lost a friend yet he allowed her to make an irrational decision. The glimmer of a tear along his cheek reserved my rage.

            “She could make it, couldn’t she?” Denial inhabited my core, reality not an option.

            “It’s Sophie.” Wesley’s constant glance to the rearview mirror expectable yet the paranoia became too frequent. My suspicions realized when I saw our pursuers. Only catching glimpses of them as they strained to keep up; their appearances were ingrained in my mind. Black as night, with brilliant white teeth and close to the size of a small horse taking your eyes off them proved treacherous. Their fur was short and dense around the head allowing easy visibility of their snarling fangs; the body, thick coarse fur acting as shrouds of protection. Only once had I been close enough to see their blood red eyes, an image which continued to provide nightmares.

            “They’re right behind us.” The truck struggled to continue as the gears grinded with each move Wesley made.

            “Not for long.” His sharp turn jostled me around in the cab. The back tires sought traction as we sputtered through the mud.

            “Wesley!”

            “Come on, Come on!” Exceeding the limits of the gears, Wesley continued to push forward. Adhering to the only pliable surface we propelled forward.  Inhaling relief, Wesley’s panic stricken face eased as he was overcome with a smirk. We continued onward through the dense trees until the highway came into sight.

I clung to my anger knowing it only masked my pain. But Wesley could not be to blame, he acted in the only way he knew how to. Since a young age his mother prepared him for this moment. She like Sophie dedicated her life to protecting me. The anger vanished and I was seized by my pain the loss of the person I held closest to my heart, the one person I trusted the most. Tears flooded my eyes I curled into a ball wishing Sophie were here to hold me in her arms just as she always did when reality became too much I could still hear her. You can’t be brave everyday, no one can, so when you feel scared I’ll be brave for the both of us. In the dark I felt him take my hand comforted by his touch. This act once seemed normal now confusing.  Wesley and I raised together until I was eleven. When he returned four years later he was different, changed. Looking at him now he appeared worn, and older than his years. He had lost his youth and any remembrance of it.

“As soon as you are safe I will go back for her.” His voice shallow and pained, this just as hard for him. Not only had Sophie raised me but for seven years Sophie became his surrogate mother. Over the years they not only looked after me but each other. After he returned they only grew closer.

            We hadn’t seen any signs of our attackers for miles. Wesley’s open window allowed fresh air to overpower the stale air building inside the cab. As summer faded nights grew colder and I felt the incoming chill. Every attempt to shield myself from the cold failed as I felt the number of goosebumps increasing.

            “Are you cold?” Without hesitation he pulled his jacket off and wrapped it around me.

            “Thank you.” I pulled it in tighter inhaling the smell of timber and gasoline. It was always saddened me to see the young boy I once knew disappear but in this moment I saw his return.

            “You should get some rest we won’t be there for awhile. Much like normal Wesley’s glance in my direction lasted a split second.

             “We’re following Sophie’s plan right?”

            “What plan?”

            “Her separation plan.”

            “No.”

            “She will come looking for us there.”

            “How do you think they found you? Her plans are to predictable.”

            “They’ve kept me alive this long.”

            “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

            “Then what did you mean?”

            “Sophie will know where to find us.”

            “Where are we going?”

            “His name is CW, Sophie trusted him, I think he will be able to help.”

            “You’re willing to trust him?” Wesley’s skepticism of others was always distinct, he trusted no one.

            “Do we have a choice?” He was right, we were alone. Silence overcame us as he focused on the road and I studied the exterior, the tall trees keeping us secluded darkness enveloping the car.

            “Aren’t you tired?”

            “No I’m ok.”

            “I mean of this you could always find a beach and stay forever.” My confession startled him, he chuckled I also found the idea of Wesley barefoot on beach quite hysterical.

            “Well maybe not a beach.”

            “I will, I have some things I need to do first.” I knew he was talking about his mother who still remained missing after a year in a half. They had been in some undisclosed location as Wesley tells it he went to get food and when he returned the hotel room ransacked and his mother missing. Over the past year he followed many leads but she still remained missing. She vanished with no trace and her absence haunted Wesley.

            “You really should get some sleep.” Resting my head against the seat his jacket tight against my skin I closed my eyes resisting the urge to stay awake.

           

 

2

 

I awoke to the vibrations of the truck as we bobbed over the overgrown driveway. Weeds and debris disguised the once prominent pathway. The rising sun illuminated the landscape, open fields on either side bordered by the wild rows of shrubs and trees. Stepping into another century I saw the royalty of the home up ahead, columns protected the inhabitants while the tall windows welcomed companions. The faded and muted white exterior radiated against the dying plants and overgrown grass. Rose thorns rose above the shrubs and took root against the house. The threshold of the dark house bellowed the stress of generations before it. Arches guided us into each room. Just off the foyer a faint light illuminated the library showing the full bookcases. A soft breeze fluttered the white curtains. Straight ahead darkness hindered sights beyond the grand staircase. The highest arch led into the brightest room. Dropping off a step I followed Wesley into the great room. Cluttered with furniture, the narrow windows shed light on the dust. The vaulted ceiling added to the elegance of the room. Our attention drew to a massive portrait of a man with sullen eyes and thin features.

            “Don’t go far!” Wesley wandered off through the closest doorway. I wasn’t the same little girl who followed him everywhere, I was older I could take care of myself. Glancing back to the man sin the portrait staring down at me I agreed it wouldn’t be a good idea to venture far.

            Crossing through the nearest doorway I moved into the dinning room. An elongated table spread the length of the room creating space for at least a dozen chairs. Passing through the next door I sought to return to the library. Unlike the rest of the house the library was warm, inviting, the bookcases a solid oak resembled a more modern time while the dilapidated forest green arm chair illuminated the aged quality. Every piece of writing imaginable held within these walls. On the ledge of the window nearest to the chair a stack of books waited for their spines to be bent and the pages turned. I thought of CW and what he must look like; a stout man with a thin black mustache, a receding hairline who instead of entertaining civilization found comfort in the pages of these books. Perched on the edge of the chair I flipped through the pages. Each page had been scribbled on in red ink, notes in the margins or words circled or highlighted. The aroma of eggs and bacon overthrew my examination of the pages. Wandering down the hallways I studied the hollow insides the bare and dim hallways before finding myself inside the kitchen.

            The kitchen much like the other rooms into the house stayed true to the original design expect for a few updated additions. The faded orange tiles, and the wallpaper faded and cracked showed the age of the house. The large wooden table in the center of the room had been set with two plates, steam rising off the food. Across the room, food was scattered across the countertops. We ate in silence sitting across from each other. He looked up only occasionally before withdrawing his glance back to his eggs. The eggs were the best I’ve had in years. He no longer resembled the person I’d known. The sun brightened the only few flecks of blonde left in his hair, and his curls somewhat non-existent.

            “Is it really that good?” He spoke for the first time pointing to my empty plate not a scrap of food left.

            “It was awful.” He smiled wider than I’d seen since he returned  and unlike most of the other times when a smirk would appear and disappear he stared longer maintaining his smile. Seeing the sparkle in his hazel eyes again I realized the change. Had his avoidance been out of necessity? If our relationship had gone back to that of our childhood  innocence he would have been unable to leave, to look for his mother and to protect me. We were not innocent children anymore the dangers of reality jilted our relationship. He hadn’t asked for a change it merely happened and in this moment I felt its restoration. My thoughts must have been revealing because his eyes shifted to the plates as he searched for a distraction.

            “I’ll take care of these.” Grabbing our empty glasses I followed him to the sink. My attention diverted to the backyard just beyond the windows. The grand wide open exterior housed several fruit trees and several other shrubs. Growing up I often thought about owning a house with fruit trees and a garden. The farmhouse was the closest I’d ever come. Sophie let me start a garden, which I tended to every day. Sophie, every memory revolved around her.

            Stepping outside I inhaled large amounts of air attempting to fight off my nausea. Sophie had been strong willed and skillful but despite our best efforts to distract from the truth we all knew she rode off to her death. I felt my nausea increasing, regretting the large quantity of eggs I consumed only moments ago. Collapsing into the lawn chair I thought of her out there alone in pain or worse fearful. She had always been tight-lipped about her feelings and emotions, in the silence we always found a way to cope together. Since the death of my parents we were inseparable I stayed close to her and when she offered space I knew I was never far from her line of sight. Her proximity became a comfortable certainty. No matter the circumstance I knew she would be by my side, the time I got the measles, every cold and flu or a nightmare I could count on her.  Thinking of her alone as she spent her last breaths while I sat safe and sound only fueled my nausea.  My thoughts of Sophie were distracted by his approach.

            “Are you alright?” A ridiculous question, one he already knew the answer.

            “I keep seeing her face, she is out there all alone. I should be out there with her, holding her hand telling her how much I love her.”  He squatted to my side though looking to him would unleash the floods of tears.

            “So you could die too? You know she wouldn’t have wanted that!” His defense of her actions buried the loss he also felt.

            “I don’t care; at least she wouldn’t be alone.”

            “Don’t say that!”

            “Why not? She risked everything for me and how have I repaid her?”

            “You’re safe that’s all she has ever wanted.”

            “I have to find her.”

            “Then her death will have been for nothing.” No longer was there compassion in his voice, my protection subdued the materialization of his old self. His words stopped me in my tracks, he was right.

            “What do I do then? Sit here and know she is out there all alone is that the fate she deserves? After everything she has done for us?” His silence revealed my truth.

            “I don’t like it anymore than you do.”

            “Someone has to be with her!”

            “We will wait till CW gets here.”

            “It could be too late by then.” I saw his contemplation he no doubt caught in a catch twenty-two. He wanted just as badly as I did to be with Sophie yet he wouldn’t deviate from his duty.

            ‘It would be a couple of days, I have to double back.’

            “Please!”

            “You cannot leave this house!”

            “Fine! Just please bring her back.” He caved way to easy, I knew the thought also lingered in his mind.

            As he repacked his bag neither of us spoke, his attention focused on his bag, his decision no doubt weighing on his mind. Don’t go anywhere, stay inside, wait for me! A phrase he repeated over and over on the porch. Despite my constant reassurance he could not be convinced. He even passed off his favorite hunting knife just in case. I watched his hesitation in each step. Be safe I thought.

            After Wesley’s departure my worry increased with each passing minute; I worried about his task wishing I was at his side. Shifting those thoughts from my mind curiosity surrounded his return. I had seen a glimmer of the old him would be continue tip toe around the developments in our relationship. I dozed only for a moment nightmares haunted me. Stepping outside for some air I felt my lungs strengthen with each breath and thoughts dissipating. Standing outside alone no support nearby I grew uneasy as I once again thought of Sophie. Returning inside I searched for a distraction. Shadows pranced along the walls just beyond the top of the stairs I felt a flutter of nerves. We hadn’t been upstairs upon our arrival. Deciding it would be best to face the nerves I forced myself up the step. Several rooms stretched down a dim hallway.

            Entering the dark room I felt a chill finding the edge of the curtains I allowed sunlight to penetrate the gloom. An array of images, papers and handwritten notes covered the walls and the table in the center of the room. From the corner of my eye I saw the oversized map, it resembled our own map. The dots on this map even mirrored the dots representing our safe houses. I followed the incoherent scribbles and notes looking for some sense amidst the chaos. One picture in particular caught my attention, moving closer I saw the image of my parents. The image was one I’d never seen before, they were young. My mother’s loose curls bounced in mid air as if the image were taken in mid stride, she beamed while my father looked on with loving admiration. The looked the way I always imaged them. Why was their picture here? I scanned the wall looking for something else significant, though I didn’t know what I searched for. Nearby I saw a photograph of Sophie smiling, close to that unflattering image of Wesley appearing gruff and threatening. An arrow connected their images with a single word TARGETS. Sophie trusted the wrong person! We were in danger here! Backing away from the images something across the room caught my eye. A photograph of a young man he looked somewhat familiar. Had I seen his before? His blue eyes muted by the photograph he didn’t smile but stared straight ahead, a strand of dark hair hung out of place. Straining to pull myself from the room I needed to get away from this house. Outside the window a loud sound startled me I turned to flee the room, catching my foot on the edge of the carpet I toppled to the ground.

            My mind shifted, overthrown by a kaleidoscope of colors and images, tumbling through the rabbit hole unable to stop. The darkness cleared as a bright light shone in my eyes, I felt the crunch of glass beneath my feet. The fresh rain glistened on the pavement, the yellow reflectors radiating from the bright lights. As my eyes adjusted I saw the source if the light, headlights. The lights dimmed and the words materialized to spell Sheriff’s Office. Commotion disturbed the silence, multiple voices emitting from every direction. Through the chaos I saw them. A young boy no older than eight buried in the arms of a young woman, both appeared distraught.

            “We haven’t found anything, between the amount of wreckage and the dark conditions; we most likely won’t know anything until tomorrow.” I heard the voice but could not pinpoint the origins. Watching the pain of the young boy my empathy heightened, I felt my own heartbreaking as well as the cool touch of my tears.

            “Carr!” The young girl raced into my line of sight embracing the young boy. The two held on tight to each other unable to let go.

            “It’s a miracle he even survived.” Another voice from somewhere close, yet my attention could not be removed from the three in front of me. Carr’s soft sobs were muffled by the young girl’s embrace. The young woman beside them stared off into the distance devoid of all emotions. Weightlessness overwhelmed me, my eyesight blurred as the pain I’d forgotten returned. My head pulsated.

As the haze cleared I lay on the floor, my surroundings unrecognizable. Climbing to my feet I saw the scattered papers and images though my mind still groggy I thought of Wesley.  He had just gone to make eggs, I think, wait no I remembered how delicious they tasted, maybe he was waiting downstairs. My mind continued to play tricks. Stumbling down the stairs I tried to focus on anything before I woke up. The bright lights and a single name Carr. By the time I reached the front door my motives changed I needed to find the next closest safe house, wait for Sophie. Sophie? Why would I wait for her, where was she? 

With each step the throbbing in my head intensified. The constant struggle to move forward continued yet I knew the consequences if I did not pursue each step. The dirt soon turned to side walk, the small town before me contained its own ebb and flow. Through the windows you could see town members busy at work. The battered sidewalk muddled pieces of stone at my feet. The brilliant colors had been dulled and faded beyond its previous existence. The once prominent colonial style bank house, lined with parasitic dust and cobwebs. Across the street an old style cinema lost against the corroded exterior. Canvassing the town I couldn't help but to notice the shadow of grey skies cast upon us. The light clouded by the overcast skies pained my vision blurring each image in a haze. The swell of nausea jilted my desire to tread forward. Darkness consumed most of my vision as I focused on the sidewalk just before me. I heard their voices as if nearby but I was unable to visualize anyone, perhaps my mind drifted deeper into confusion. The collision rattled my balance, yet it was the least of my concerns. I couldn’t motion my head to glance at him for fear of greater trauma to my increasing headache. Grabbing my arms he helped to steady my wavering motions.

            “Are you alright?” Without his help I struggled to stay balanced now my insides churned as I steadied.

            “I’m so sorry.” I needed to find safety somewhere to rest understand my predicament better.  Focusing on the bench ahead near surrounding trees I stumbled forward away from him.

            “Maybe you should sit down.” Persistent, I now saw the young man as he clutched my arm guiding me towards the bench.

            “I’m fine.” Releasing his grip I continued forward. The haste of my actions sent a wave of dizziness coursing through me.  My knees gave way and I felt my body collapsing. Within an instant his arms wrapped around me and eased my descent. His dark locks somewhat disheveled, his skin light olive and his blue eyes brilliant and beautiful.

“Call Cam.”

“What happened?” I heard the young woman’s voice as she descended into a tunnel. Moments later she hovered above us.

“Hey, hey stay with me, that’s good just keep those eyes open.” My eyes heavy and my sight blurred as I continued to cling to his voice.

I drifted away, fading farther from his grasp. The smell or burning embers did not worry me; instead it was the sound of the snarling and pawing across the darkness. A woman pleading and crying could barely be heard above the snarls and growls. The sound of a gun more prominent against the other sounds, waiting for the gunshot to follow I heard nothing, silence. A sudden clamor, followed by a strange noise, a burst of light appeared before me. I could see six scroungy flea infested dogs, drool dripping from their snarling teeth moving toward me, their eyes blood shot red. My heart beat faster. Gunshots rang out, my ears echoing and a constant drumming sound. Lights flashed blinding my sight.

Author's Note

ignore grammer problems,