An engine rattled. Sputtered out. Footsteps. Keys clanged. A bell jingled.
More footsteps. They scraped to a stop. Right in front of me.
I woke up to the sun shining in my eyes and a man standing before me.
I gasped and jumped off the bench, grabbing my backpack.
The man–older middle-aged, gray peppered black hair, sharp features–just laughed. Not harshly, I thought, but kindly. He threw something at me.
I caught it.
Glanced down.
A sandwich. Huh.
"Thought you might need that," the man said.
"Uh, thanks," I mumbled, my stance still rigid and ready to run. My stomach grumbled for the sandwich, but it would seem needy to immediately eat it.
"The name's Greyson Johns, but you can call me Grey."
I took a second to respond. Should I give him my name? Surely one wouldn't hurt. "Lyre."
"Nice to meet you, Lyre. So you're passin' through?"
Of course I'm passing through! What else would I be doing?
I just nodded.
"Where're you headed?"
Please, with the intrusive questions. I don't have the answers.
"The town near here," I answered casually. But stiffly. It's best not to be too friendly.
I hadn't a clue if there even was a town.
Grey squinted.
"Oh, Worther," he nodded. "Nice place. A bit too busy for my taste, but they've got a wonderful little noodle shack. You should try it when you get there."
Grey took a step toward me.
Involuntarily, I took a step back, lengthening the distance between us.
Grey looked surprised, then an understanding came into his eyes. "Oh, no, I'm just comin' past you to get the gas pumps ready." A pressed smile.
I looked down, embarrassed. "Yeah, sorry," it came out barely a whisper. "Bad habit."
"One you should probably keep, travelin' alone, you know." Grey walked past me, giving me a wide berth, taking a less direct route to the pumps.
That was kind of embarrassing.
"If you need anything, go on inside, I'll be there in a few," Grey called to me.
I actually did need a few things.
The bell dinged as I opened the door.
What did I need most?
Depending on how far Worther actually was from here, I might not need much food. But one could easily get lost on those winding roads, dissecting and connecting with one another over and over. So a map is what I needed secondly.
I took out my burner phone and found it waterlogged.
Paper it is then.
I located some maps near the entrance.
The gas station wasn't bad. Although it looked a tad bit old from the outside, it was neat and fully stocked inside. The tiled floors were worn but swept clean. Popcorn ceiling.
I wondered if they had fruit. It'd been weeks since I tasted something fresh. All I'd eaten recently was cheap packaged food that I could grab quickly and avoid suspicion. All those preservatives tasted kinda stale after a while.
I wove through the aisles. Sighed. No fruit. Packaged it is.
I wondered how long I could keep this up, tramping from city to city, barely surviving in between. And what would I do once it got really cold? Already the nights were dropping almost to freezing.
How long would it be until someone recognized me and reported me? Until the police showed up and hauled me to prison?
What if I stayed here? Surely these hills and forests would welcome me.
I could find a small cabin, deep in the woods, with no one around for miles. Occasionally, visit the town of Worther nearby. It wouldn't hurt, if everyone was as nice and laid back as Grey. It would just be me and the forest bunnies. And wolves. Cougars . . .
I could probably get a gun somehow. For protection.
God knows I'd feel safer with some protection.
At least at the moment, I was safe.
Grey came back inside and busied himself doing gas station stuff.
Then he turned on a radio and pop music filled the building.
They were playing my favorite song.
Memories flooded my head. Good. Bad.
Just everything.
I accidentally sniffed and ducked my head. Can't cry now. I have to keep it level.
I brought my stuff to the counter and Grey rang it up.
As I was paying (with very crumpled bills, and no card they can track that), the music ended and a news report came on. "Four are dead after . . ."
Grey handed me the bag.
I smiled. "Thanks."
"My pleasure."
Huh. Isn't that what they say at Chick-fil-a?
I laughed inwardly. I sure have been thinking a lot about food today.
In the background, the reporter clamored on. "We haven't seen this sort of attack in years . . ."
I rolled up my sleeves after I took the bag and shouldered my backpack.
" . . . something of this power and magnitude . . ."
"Hey." Grey sounded very serious. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah . . ." I followed his gaze to my forearms.
Oh.
I should have known.
Jagged, unnatural bruises, ran up my arms.
I gasped and pulled down my sleeves.
"I tripped and fell on a branch." It tumbled out quickly.
Grey frowned. "Are you in some kind of danger? Do you need help?" He started walking around the counter.
"No, no. I'm fine."
" . . . reminiscent of the incidents a few years ago, caused by certain individuals with supernatural powers."
I froze.
Listened.
"The question is, Jim, have they returned? Do they have some sort of goal?"
"Based on where the attack took place and who was targeted, I'd say they're bent on revenge."
It was an accident! a voice screamed in my head. It wasn't supposed to happen. Not there. Not then. Not ever!
"Who could they possibly want to avenge?"
"I haven't a clue. We don't know what they want. They're the X-Men. It's literally in their name, the unknown factor, x."
"Interesting take . . ."
They're talking about what I did. Was it really big enough to reach across multiple states? I wanted to cry from the horror. The room blurred and the floor started to spin. But what I heard next shook me from the daze.
"The main suspect is a young woman, about five-six, with long blonde hair, last seen wearing a green sweatshirt."
I glanced down at my hoodie. And I'd thought green was a good color to blend in.
I looked up at Grey.
" . . . the suspect is very dangerous and should be reported immediately."
His mouth hung open, and fear sunk deep into his eyes.
He looked like I'd betrayed him.
"Please don't tell anyone," I whispered.
He shook his head. And took a step toward me. "Just–just hold up for a minute."
"No." My heart pounded, I felt adrenaline rushing through my veins.
I bolted out the door.
"Wait!" Grey ran after me.
My worn shoes pounded against the concrete. I prayed they wouldn't fall apart just yet.
The gas pumps blurred past and I hit the dark asphalt road.
I didn't stop. Didn't look behind me. Didn't check to see if Grey had followed me.
Trees whooshed by.
I didn't think I'd ever run this fast.
Not since that night.
I ran.
And ran.
Until I couldn't take another step.
I tripped over my own foot and landed on the ground. Hard.
I bit back the pain in my throbbing legs and core. I couldn't even feel the deep scrapes on my hands, which had taken the brunt of the fall. Although blood seeped out.
I lay down, panting hard, feeling the cool road beneath.
I wanted to close my eyes. I wouldn't.
Must've run a few miles. Grey didn't follow.
Staring up into the trees, my heart finally slowed down, but my body ached more than ever. A slight breeze blew, cooling me off, swirling red leaves through the air. Fluffy white clouds sailed across the bright blue sky that peeked through the colorful foliage.
It was beautiful.
Very beautiful.
Peaceful . . .