Tonya stood in the cornfield, trapped by the white-haired man. Over his shoulder a fist-sized fireball floated and bobbed, reminding her of how quickly it could expand, and how it wreaked the Shoppe. He didn't speak, apparently content to stare at her as if she were the freak.
"Do you know Donna?" she asked. In this secretive town, she didn't know how many enemies opposed her.
"Go." He pointed back across the field, to where the strange farmer was waiting in his station wagon. Tonya's mind swam with questions. Did this man know where her parents were? Were they still alive? What did he want from her?
"Now," he said. The fireball glowed a little brighter.
Tonya's feet hurried all by themselves. She didn't believe he was bringing her to Aunt Helene, whose uncharacteristic message had ordered Tonya to leave town.
"Did you text me?" she asked, not daring to look back.
"Head for the car," he said. "I'm right behind you."
He needn't remind her. As she went, the fireball warmed her neck and she sensed it crowding closer, whenever she slowed down.
Getting into a car with the telepathic farmer and his hound was once a frightening thought, but compared to the promise of flaming death hanging, literally, over her head, the creepy pair seemed like the welcome wagon.
She stumbled. Walking back through the cornfield was taking a lot longer than running into it. Her toes kept catching on furrows.
"Look where you're going!"
She was more interested in scanning the field for an escape route. "What do you want me for?" And who was he?
"Hurry up. We're almost there."
When they reached the road she said: "I can't believe you're letting that thing drive the car." The man in the leather jacket didn't answer. He gestured for her to get in the passenger's seat, with the dog, and slammed the door closed.
She watched him draw the ball of fire to him. It shrunk to marble size and hovered over his outstretched palm. He got in behind her and said: "Try anything and it goes in your earhole."
Tonya sat very upright, eyes on the road. "Where are you taking me?"
Her ear burned. She jerked her head away from the heat. Foul smoke caught in her throat, and she coughed, clamping her hand over blistered skin. Tendrils of hair fell away, leaving ashes on her fingers.
"Any more questions?"
********
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Feeding Frenzy (Watty Award Winner)
Mystery / Thriller*Watty Winner* & *Featured Story* WITCHES - NECROMANCERS - INAPPROPRIATE TABLE MANNERS. The three-hundred-year-old town of Loon Lake looks calm as a pond, but below the surface, clans of witches and wizards clash like hungry sharks. First-year stude...
