Loser II || WlW

Eight

     Brittany is ready when I wake up, sitting at the dining table behind a plate of eggs and hash browns as she scrolls through her phone.

"Hey," I say, mid-yawn. "You're up early."

She blushes. "Guess you didn't keep me up late enough." She looks up from her phone, raises an eyebrow.

My eyes go wide. "Did you... I didn't think you'd..." I swallow.

Her lips purse into a smile. "I'm just teasing you. Come here." She pats the seat next to her.

I sit at the dining table. A Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee is ready for me. I shake two pills from my prescription bottles.

"Have you read any of the news articles about Zachary's release?" she asks, taking a bite of her eggs.

I shake my head and scoot closer to get a better look at her phone.

"Grace wrote one," she says, angling the phone toward me. "For that news outlet she works for."

"Great," I groan. "Did she find a way to pull me into it?" I scroll through the article, scanning for my name.

Brittany shakes her head. "How are you feeling? Do you need to cancel the trip?" she asks, glancing at the pills.

"No. I'm excited." I squeeze her hand in mine and take the pills with coffee. "It'll be good for me." I nod.

The rest of the morning goes by quickly as I get ready and pack my bags. Brittany upgrades our seats when we get to the airport despite my protests. The flight is short, hardly over an hour. An older man with white hair and a beer belly is waiting for us when we land.

"My name is Ron. I'm the groundskeeper for the area and I'll be escorting you up and down the mountain," he explains as we walk through the parking lot. "The roads are pretty rough up there so we don't allow campers to drive themselves. Reduces liability and whatnot. There are some ground rules but I'll explain those when we get up the mountain. Any questions?" He adds, "good," before we can respond.

I flash Brittany a curious look and she shrugs.

I tell myself to calm down. The guy is a little strange but nothing to be concerned about.

Ron digs a ring of keys from his flannel pocket and unlocks an old Jeep. I throw our bags in the back and shuffle in next to Brittany. The road goes from highway to long curving roads an hour in. Brittany's gaze is focused out her window, taking in the overgrown bushes and long line of trees that act as a barrier from the rest of the world.

"It's pretty up here," she says, turning toward me.

I lean closer and whisper, "not as pretty as you."

Her cheeks flush a light shade of pink. She rolls her eyes, but she's smiling.

I take her hand in mine, bringing her fingers to my lips as the Jeep swerves off the road. I clutch Brittany close as the tires squeal against the asphalt and the Jeep skids to a stop inches from a tree.

Ron's shoulders are tense, his eyes wide, as he clutches the steering wheel. "Man in the road," he finally grumbles and climbs out of the Jeep.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and follow Ron toward a crumpled pile of a human on the shoulder of the road.

"Did we hit him?" Brittany asks from behind me.

Ron shakes his head as he bends over and rolls the body over, checking for a pulse.