4- A Jar of Olives

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The VW camper had been a donation by R. Jaxton McGuire the Third when the psychiatric hospital had first opened. Decades later, the once pistachio green automobile looked like it was rotting from some sort of skin disorder. Rust crawled up the side of the van, snaking around the words Davenport Asylum like vines. Patches of the paintwork had fallen along the highway but the van gave no sign of giving up even after twelve hours of being on the road.

Arizona was still miles away. Ashlyn had seen a sign before falling asleep and she knew it would still be a few hours.

Behind a sleeping Ash, eleven others sat cramped like olives in a jar. From time to time, faint chit-chat or giggling drifted over the interior of the car. Sometimes the high-pitched squeak of Roxie the Rodent Girl could be heard slashing over the otherwise calm. The driver of the van looked through the rear-view mirror and made sure his passengers were alright. "No one needs a pee break?" Eleven heads shook.

"Naw, we're cool, Bodhi," replied a teen with a shock of red hair. "Alice is about to tell us another one of her horror stories."

"Not horror, Eddie, it's a Fifty Shades fan fiction story I'm writing," giggled a tiny blonde.

"That's what I said, horror. If you can't distinguish genres maybe you shouldn't become a writer."

"But I aaaaaam a writer," whined Alice, "Miss Penny said so."

"Miss Penny is a fifty-year-old virgin who would piss her pants if she met someone like that Grey weirdo. I doubt that old fuddy-duddy would be into bondage."

Bodhi chuckled. In her slumber, Ash heard their sounds but could not distinguish words.

Even with the windows rolled down, the van smelt like smoke. The culprit rested in the pocket of Ashlyn's trousers, Dr. Abernathy's silver Zippo lighter.

The timber-framed asylum had been quick to burn. Ash had planned it well. It was Sunday so most of the staff was on their day off. There were only two nurses and a guard on duty. The patients would be having a picnic in the garden since it was a lovely day. Killing anyone was nearly impossible Ashlyn had thought and well worth the risk. It took her about ten minutes to slip inside the bathroom, stuff sheets from a ripped up notebook into a crack in the wooden wall and set it alight. Shit burns fast when it's old and dry, she'd thought as a tiny orange flame came to life.

The monotonous motion of the van lulled Ash into a deeper sleep and soon she was dreaming. In her dream, she saw a man with long hair the colour of snow. His skin shone, nearly sparkled, under the hot sun. When he closed his eyes and tilted his head, she saw his hair cascade over his back and over twin wounds on his shoulder-blades. A butterfly smile played over his lips. He was bare, wearing nothing but a thin, blue sheet he had tied around his hips. When he opened his hands to the sun, Ashlyn saw marks all over his palms and wrists. The man brought his hand together and bowed into them.

"God..." Ashlyn uttered in her slumber.

"Hey Ashy," Bodhi, nudged her gently. "Still sleeping?"

But Ash did not wake up. Her dream shifted to a long road, like the one they had been driving on. A sign reading Phoenix, Arizona pointed to her left. She saw the van drive by and head toward one reading Los Demonios. The pale-skinned man outstretched his hand and pointed to the right.

With a start, Ash opened her eyes and grabbed Bodhi's tanned arm. "Nix Phoenix," she said breathlessly.

Her friend grinned. "Decided to come to Cali with us after all. Niiiiice," Bodhi turned to her briefly and gave her a wink. "You'd made a gnarly surfer-girl."

Upon hearing the conversation, someone in the back began humming to the tune of a Beach Boy's song.

"I'm not coming with you. You're dropping me off elsewhere." Ash waggled her index. "No Phoenix, Los Demonios."

Bodhi gave her a sideways glance and lowered his voice. "What the fuck you want in that shitty place?"

Ash had no idea what the town of Los Demonios was like and she didn't care. "I'm gonna go find –"

"God. Right." Bodhi shrugged before running his finger through his longish sandy hair. "You've totally lost the plot, Ashy. God ain't nowhere, especially not in a place called The Demons."

Turning to the window, Ash watched miles of yellowing grass go by. "He's there," she said, "and I'm going to find him."  

words: 769

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