The Hunter Beside Me

8: Ragslin

Bash

When I woke up, we were parked.

In front of us, tall red letters spelled the word Food across a window. Behind us, I saw the gas station pictured on the Ragslin website. Owen was leaning against the driver's door, asleep.

Lilla's head pressed against my chest, and my arm held her in place. When did that happen? Her injured hand lay palm up on my leg. It was glossy from the burn cream I'd applied when we stopped for gas a couple of hours ago. The blisters seemed less red, but they still looked painful.

Owen had slumped forward, resting his head on the side of the truck while he filled the tank, but he refused to let me drive. He was comfortable using the phone for directions and insisted he wasn't too tired. Lilla hadn't moved at all, and I got the impression he didn't want to be her pillow; I didn't mind.

The sun had just risen, and cars were coming and going at the pumps. Customers walked out of the store with coffee cups, and I licked my lips. I could almost taste the bitter liquid. I needed caffeine, but Owen needed rest, so I sat there, people watching.

For such a small town, they had a steady business here. Being the only gas station and restaurant open before bar hours made Food the place to go.

Through the huge windows that stretched across the front of the building, I noticed some seating and a waitress that kept everyone's cups full. It was more than I'd expected.

The older men that always seemed to be regulars at these places already took up a couple of tables. It made me smile thinking that they'd probably lived in this town together their whole lives.

A group of guys wearing tan Carhartt's and gray t-shirts with some kind of construction logo on the front walked in. As they passed the old men, they all said hello or waved. Everybody definitely knew everybody here.

Lilla took a deep breath in her sleep and brushed her face against my shirt. Her hair tickled my chin, and I ran my hand over the soft waves to smooth them back down. Resting my cheek against the top of her head, I inhaled her scent. It made me think of gardens and spring.

Lost in my thoughts, I watched the group of construction workers exit the building. Each man carried a drink and a paper bag filled with their breakfast.

Three of them headed toward the only two trucks parked across the lot. Hadn't there been four of them when they entered? Scanning inside the building, I located one of them talking to the waitress. She giggled, twirling her hair, and it looked like flirting held him back.

I chuckled at the surprise on his face when he realized his friends were outside. He said a hasty goodbye to the girl and left her smiling and shaking her head as he bolted toward the waiting trucks. Something was off with his movements. They were too... smooth, maybe? "Owen, wake up."

I didn't want to freak out. I might've been wrong. What were the chances I'd spot a mimic in the first thirty minutes here? Maybe the guy was just graceful... and quick. I had to be imagining things, but what if I wasn't? "Owen!"

Lilla and Owen both jumped when I yelled.

"What is it?" Owen asked as his gaze darted around the area, and he rubbed his face.

"I think that guy's a mimic." I pointed, but the trucks were already moving. "Shit! I don't know which one he got in!" They were exactly the same, white company vehicles, and they were each carrying two guys.

Lilla sat up and looked around in sleepy confusion. Owen started the engine and backed out of the space, trailing them onto the road.

"Why didn't you wake me sooner?" he asked.