1.
My foster parents are arguing in the kitchen. Their voices cut through the screen door and into the fields behind our house. I sit on the back steps and stare out across the tall grass, watching the evening mist settle with the fireflies. It'll be dark soon, but the last thing I want to do is go back inside.
I can't stand listening to them argue about things they can't change.
With a glance over my shoulder to see if they're looking, I slip off the steps and start across the grass. My phone is upstairs on my bed but I'm not going back in there. Not for that.
The grass tugs at my shoes and ankles, dampening my jeans with the dew that comes with the night. The air has a chill to it and I stuff my hands deep into my pockets just as I reach the woods. It's dark here, where the setting sun can barely reach, but I follow the narrow path that leads to the next field.
This is where I want to be. It's where I come when I want to hear nothing but the wind and birds. Just silence. The field here is a little bigger than the one behind our house and surrounded by trees on all sides, shadowing the grass around the edges. The mist is settling heavier tonight, and I walk through the field until I get to the middle. I lay down, not caring about the dew soaking into my back and not caring if my parents are wondering where I am.
I just need to be alone.
The sky above is darkening and the first stars are brave enough to show themselves. I take a deep breath and listen to the crickets.
But then that's not all I hear.
Voices.
My heart pumps a little faster because I've never seen anyone else in these fields before now. Who could it be? I lay on my back and listen, not moving an inch, hoping they won't see me. The grass is just tall enough to hide me. The voices get closer and they're all male, that much I can tell.
"He said he would be there, and he wasn't," one of them says. "You know what that means."
"We'll tell Lee and let him take care of it," the second voice replies. There's a pause and they stop walking. "Is that Drake? What took him so long?"
A third voice echoes across the field. "Peter! You'll never believe what I found, man."
The first voice swears, low and barely audible.
I slowly flip onto my stomach and raise my head, keeping my eyes level with the grass. There are two guys about fifty feet away, watching their friend come out of the woods towards them. He's dragging a girl along with him, and her whimpers of fear echo across the grass. My own fear crawls through me and I can barely remember to breathe. Something that isn't right about this.
I can barely see them through the grass but the taller one speaks again.
"Drake, I thought I made it clear that feeding was off limits until we're back in the city. When people go missing out here, people actually notice."
His words don't make sense and my heart beats even faster, knowing I shouldn't be here.
The third guy—Drake—drags the girl closer to them and drops her on the ground. "Come on, Peter. It's not like we haven't done it before. I haven't eaten in days." He turns to the third person. "Dude, back me up here."
The younger man who I can't see behind Peter speaks up. "I don't think it's a good idea. Last time you got pretty carried away and couldn't stop yourself at just one."
"I will this time, I promise," Drake says. "Besides, she's the only one here so there's less temptation."
"Please," the girl says, now crying. "just let me go."
They all ignore her. Drake looks towards the older man who seems to be the leader. "Peter? You know there's enough to go around."
"All right, fine," he says. I hear eagerness in his voice. "But let's make this quick. We need to get back."
Before I can blink or even think, Drake smiles and leans over the girl. And then she screams. Her voice dies away before it can reach far and then Peter joins him, bending over her body, doing something I can't see.
I quickly flatten myself to the grass and pray they don't see me. I still can't breathe right. Like it's all clogged in my throat and won't come out. After what seems forever, I hear them both stand and breathe deeply, like someone would after a breath of fresh air.
"What's wrong, man?" Drake asks and then laughs once. "Not hungry?"
"Something like that." The voice is restricted and careful.
Peter speaks up. "Come on, let's get out of here."
They start across the field and my heart pounds so heavily I'm sure they can hear it. After they reach the tree line, I wait to make sure they're gone and then I stumble to my feet and start running across the field, back towards home. Halfway across the field I stop, the back of my neck feeling cold and wrong.
I slowly turn around, ready for this nightmare to be over and prove to myself that nothing is there.
But he is.
The third voice who always had his back to me.
He stands less then ten feet away, like he'd been there all along. His hair is like a raven's, black and swooping for the sky, with his jacket collar popped up against a cruel wind that isn't here.
He cocks his head in the slightest way, looking at me curiously. "You're lucky I'm the one to find you."
"Or what?" I ask, my voice shaking. "I would've ended up like that girl?"
I back up a step.
He says, "Yes."
"Then how am I going to end up now?"
His mouth twitches. "I have decided yet." My heart starts to beat like I'm running, but my legs are locked and I can't move. Then his mouth curls up at the edges and he whispers, "Run."
I back away and turn for the woods, feeling the grass whip against my ankles and the mist dampening my face. I can't hear him following me, so maybe he isn't. I pass through the dark shade of the trees and keep going, the night almost swallowing me. Then he's there, stepping out in front of me, eyes smiling more than his mouth.
My heart hammers too fast and my hands shake. I still can't breathe right. The air comes out in gasps, like my lungs don't work properly.
"What do you want?" I ask, my voice shaking. I've never felt so much fear before. Not around one person. "I promise I won't say anything."
"I'm afraid you saw too much," he says.
I back myself against a tree, something I instantly regret. "I promise I won't tell anyone. Please." The last word is a whisper, like I'm too afraid to talk any louder.
He goes to lean in, like he's going to say something else, when he glances down and stops. His smile disappears and the spark in his charcoal eyes is gone. "What are the odds," he murmurs to himself. He brings up a hand and brushes a finger across my necklace, the only thing I have left of my mother. He takes his hand away and looks up. "I'll see you soon," he says, backing away from me.
Then he smiles once, almost a grin. "I promise."
