X-Marks: Hiding Shadows

Unbearable

Thirteen minutes felt like days when waiting to see if Nate could save the tracker. With his never-ending knowledge and a piece of tape, he was able to connect a thin green wire in the tracker that was severed from my fall.

I was grateful. More grateful to Nate than I had ever been since I met Buggy. But still, I wonder how he knew all these things about the Allies. How far should I question it? Or would that put us in more danger? I let it slip from my mind as we continued to walk to the next host home.

After a long week of walking, my shoes were worn to shreds by the jagged rocks that cluttered the endless plains of dry rust-colored dirt. Our bellies churned and ached for more than just the salty rice biscuits given to us by the Ibori's. We needed something more to fuel our cumbersome steps, but at least we were finally getting close.

The orange sun was brighter and hotter than I had ever felt before. It burned my exposed skin with just a quick shift of my clothes.

In the distance, the sandy plains were washed with rusty reds, pale golds, and slate whites that swirled up the jagged mountains like marbles.

At the bottom of the mountains in a valley, a tan flat top home was swallowed in the dunes of sand. As we approached the yard of tumbleweed, a stout figured paced about the wooden porch of the house and swayed his head from side to side.

"What's his problem?" Mat asked, and turned from the front of the trail lined with pale shrubs.

"I guess we'll find out," Evee shrugged, and pulled her backpack up her shoulders.

The man on the porch had a clean shave head with dark brown skin that matched the copper dust of the mountains. He wore a long black jacket and a thin beard that framed his sharp nose.

"Just what, do you think you're doing?" the man barked and blew us back in our path like tumbleweed.

"No way -" Mat said and turned away, "I think we have the wrong home."

"I see," the man said and cocked his neck out, "Nothing wrong with this home."

We followed Mat, a cloud of red dust lifted at our feet. He was right. This couldn't be our host.

"It's okay," the man continued to shout, "Ain't nothing for another thousand-or-so miles."

His bark halted us again. One thousand miles? Either this man was, in fact, our host, or he was a rotten liar.

"Hey! What's your problem?" Mat shouted and walked back to the porch.

"My problem is, you all walking up in here in the middle of the day when everyone can see you. Even a damn Ally," the man grinned and crossed his arms, "Or was that your plan all along?"

"Certainly, not sir," Ocean said and blocked Mat's face that was growing redder by the moment.

"At least one of you has manners," the man said, his eyes focused on Mat, "I supposed you've been doing this your whole trip, haven't you?"

"Well, what else would we do?" Nate asked.

The man looked to the side of his porch, "If you had any sense about you, you'd be making your rounds at night! You can never know where an Ally is."

"We have something for that," I said and lifted the tracker from my bag, "It tells us when the Allies are close, so we don't -"

The man squinted his eyes on the broken corner of the tracker, his lips snarled at the sight of the clumsy looking tape.

"Never trust anything, I can't see for myself," the man spat, and turned to open his door, "Now get in, quick. Don't need any suspicions on me."

We funneled up the first step of the porch, it's rickety wood panels squeaked, and layers of sand crackled under our boots. I watched the man continued to glance around and check each corner twice while counting under his breath.

"Thank you - um," Ocean said and struggled to address the man with no name.

The man put his hand on Ocean's back and pushed her through the door of his home.

"It's J," the man said and pinched his claws into my back, "Just the letter "J," and that's all you be needing to know about me."

It was the only name he would give us, and it was still more than I had wanted from this unbearable man.