by Mac Flynn
"How much money do we have left?" Vincent asked me as we walked towards the car.
"About twenty dollars," I told him.
He winced. "I'll figure out a way to pay you back, I promise."
"Don't make that kind of promise when you don't even know who you are," I scolded him.
Vincent pursed his lips and looked ahead of us. "No, I don't, at least not yet, but we're getting closer."
I raised an eyebrow. "Another feeling?"
"A certainty."
We reached the car. Quill had parked it as far from the road as possible. A tree partially hid the front part of the body. Quill leaned against the trunk and Bram stood nearby.
"I don't think anyone's going to try to steal your hunk of junk," I commented.
Quill pushed off the back of the car. There was a frown on his lips and I noticed his phone was clasped in one hand. "We might have bigger problems than thieves."
I dropped the supplies in my hand at my feet and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I finally got reception out here and got a hold of a couple of contacts in the state patrol," he informed us. He jerked his head towards the road in the direction we came from. "There's something not right about that town you guys just left."
"How so?" I questioned him.
"You know how some people here and there have fake Social Security numbers?" he asked me.
I shrugged. "Yeah, why?"
"Well, this was a whole town full of fake numbers. Heck, I bet some of them didn't even have a number," he commented.
"What's the big deal about that?" Bram spoke up.
His eyes flickered to Bram. "The big deal is that that's attracted a couple of strange people. My contacts told me the whole town's been cordoned off and there's a bunch of people in white lab coats poking around the place. They won't let in anybody, not even the police and insurance companies. It's raising quite a stink, but the whole thing's being hushed up in the papers." He glanced at me. "Especially our paper."
"Fox?" I guessed.
He shrugged. "No proof, but it could be."
"We should get moving," Vincent suggested.
I turned to him and studied his face. "You still don't know why you're so popular?"
He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, but I know the answers I seek are ahead of us. That's why we need to keep going."
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "Werewolves? Witches? White lab coats? What next?"
CHAPTER 3
We divided our supplies into the four bags and hefted them onto our shoulders. I pulled the white blanket from the trunk and tucked it securely into my bag. When I turned to face the group Vincent's eyes were on me.
I raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You. . .you feel well, don't you?" he asked me.
I blinked at him. "Of course I-oh. No, I'm fine." He meant the curse and the proxy plant inside the bag. "But just in case."
He smiled and nodded. "Yeah."
"So who leads?" Quill spoke up.
I jerked my head towards Vincent. "He does."
Vincent didn't argue. He turned away and walked towards the head of the trail. Bram hurried after him, and Quill and I took the rear guard.
The wide trail was a gentle incline with the occasional large rock to bypass or step over. The thick trees long ago learned to keep their branches from the path, and the shrubs were destroyed but for the occasional bush far off the path. Here and there stood a stump, evidence of a logging trade that long ago died. A few birds chirped and flew over our heads, blocking for a moment the bright light of the day star. The chill mountain air was less biting with a new coat, courtesy of my money and Vincent's promise of a new one.
We had walked about a mile when Quill sidled up to me. His eyes remained on Vincent as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "You sure that guy's a werewolf, or are you pulling my proverbial tail?"
I shrugged. "I know it's hard to believe, but I've seen him change in front of my eyes."
Quill furrowed his brow. He leaned away from me and cupped a hand over his mouth. "Hey, Vincent!" Vincent and Bram paused, and both turned to us. "Care to show me your wild side?"
Vincent blinked at him. "My. . .wild side?"
Bram rolled his eyes and half-turned to Vincent. "He means your werewolf self." He looked back to Quill. "That's not gonna happen any time soon."
Quill raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
Bram tilted his head back and pointed a finger at the sky above us. "The full moon was last night. Werewolves can't transform without it. Well, unless they have a proxy."
I started back and my eyes widened. "A what?" I questioned him.
Bram frowned. "A proxy. You know, somebody to help them."
I marched up to him and grabbed him by the collar. "What the hell is a proxy, and what does it do?"
Bram pushed my hand away and stumbled back. "Knock it off or I ain't telling you nothing."
"Somebody care to fill me in on this proxy business?" Quill spoke up.
Bram crossed his arms and shrugged. "It's somebody a werewolf uses to change without the full moon. You know, like using a remote to turn on a TV instead of the button."
"Who can be a proxy?" I persisted.
Bram scowled at me. "Why are you so interested in this?"
"Glenna called Leila a proxy," Vincent revealed.
Bram dropped his arms and raised an eyebrow. He glanced from Vincent and back to me. "Seriously?"
"Do you think we'd find this funny?" I retorted.
He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it gets you off."
I lunged for Bram again, but Vincent intervened and slipped between us. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at Bram. "We would really appreciate it if you told us what a proxy is."
Bram sighed. "I told you. It's somebody a werewolf uses to transform. You know, like when the proxy's in trouble and the werewolf comes to rescue them. Like that."
"Transformation under duress?" Quill guessed.
Bram frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means under stress or danger," Quill told him.
The kid shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, I don't know what you're all riled up about. Proxies are pretty hard to find. It's gotta be like true-love mush or something important between them. You know, junk like that."
Vincent blushed and turned to face the uphill direction of the trail. "Maybe we should get going."
"Wait," I spoke up. Vincent looked over his shoulder as I glanced down at Bram. "Celo said something about a Prime werewolf. What was that about?"
Bram shook his head. "No idea, but I wouldn't be thinking too much into what that crazy guy said. He was pretty nuts."
Quill raised his hand. "I just joined the group, so a little info would be nice."
"Later," I snapped. I readjusted my backpack. My eyes flickered to Vincent who's back still faced me. "We should get to this lake and see where we need to go."
"Good idea," Vincent agreed.
He led the way again, and Bram followed close behind him. I stared at Vincent's back as Quill walked up to my side. There was a big smirk on his face.
"True love?" he repeated.
"Don't say another word," I growled.
I marched up the mountain. There was a soft chuckle behind me as Quill followed.
The trail steepened the further we climbed. The air became harder to breath, and the trees grew thicker against the narrowing sides of the trail. A tunnel effect occurred where all we could see was the crest of the next short hill above us, and nothing but shadows on either side. The sun completed its course across the sky and made ready to disappear below the tall horizon.
We reached the lake an hour before sunset. The short hill we stumbled up crested and revealed to us a plateau. Millennia before ice sheets had scraped away the mountains and hollowed out a long bowl some three miles across and two miles wide. The lake water was supplied by the white-capped mountains that rose up in front of us.
The trail led d
own to the edge of the white-sand shore, and fifty feet from the shoreline were four camping spots. Each spot had a picnic table hewn from the local trees and a pit made of large stones taken from the trail. They were all empty.
"Which one do we want?" Vincent asked us.
A soft breeze blew across the water and swept over us. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. "The one farthest from the water," I suggested.
We took the camp site, a spot some sixty feet from the water, and plopped our bags on the large, thick table. Quill pulled out his sleeping bag and a tent.
He held up the tent and smiled at us. "So who wants to set this up for me?"
"Bram and Vincent," I spoke up.
Bram frowned. "Why me?"
"Because you're all sleeping in the same tent," I told him.
Bram started and his face contorted into disgust. "Hell no! I'm not sleeping with any filthy human!"
Quill raised an eyebrow. "You're a human, too, Pipsqueak."
Bram sneered at him. "Like hell I am. I'm a werewolf, too."
Quill snorted. "Prove it."
Bram faced Quill and pointed at the table beside which they both stood. "Fine. We'll arm-wrestle."
Quill folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "What's that going to prove?"
"I might not be able to change, but I'm still stronger than a normal human," Bram explained. He straightened and a smirk slid onto his lips. "That is, unless you're chicken."
Quill frowned and dropped his arms. "Get on the other side, Pipsqueak. The loser has to help Vincent put up the tent."
Vincent cringed and stretched out his hand. "Wait a second. Don't I get a say in this?"
"No!" Quill and Bram shouted.
They sat on opposite benches and clasped hands. I folded my arms and stood close by. Bram glanced at Vincent.
"You say 'go,'" he ordered him.
"Like hell he is," Quill objected. His eyes flickered to me. "Leila, you say 'go.'"
Bram glared at his opponent. "Why can't Vincent say it?"
"Because he's a werewolf like you, and he'll probably help you cheat," Quill pointed out.
"Then Leila can't do it, either! She's a human like you!" Bram argued.
I raised an eyebrow and took a step closer. My hand reached back and grasped the hilt of my weapon. "You're saying I'd cheat?"
Bram turned his narrowed eyes on me, but they widened when he noticed where my hand lay. "I'm not saying that. I'm just saying-"
"On your mark-" I interrupted him. Both contestants settled themselves into a tight grip. "-get set-" Their bodies tensed, "-go!"
Quill and Bram scrunched their faces and tried to slam back of their opponent's hand onto the wooden table. I found myself mesmerized by the sight of two males asserting their masculinity through armed combat. One would appear the victor until the other pulled their hands even again.
Vincent sidled up to my side. There was a smile on his lips as he leaned close to my face. "Fun, isn't it?" he whispered.
His words made me realize I was smiling. I shook the amusement from my lips and shrugged. "Juvenile," I commented.
"You were smiling," he teased.
My eyes flickered up to him and my lips turned downward. "Stupidity amuses me."
"Come on, Pipsqueak, give up already!" Quill demanded. "I've got you beat!"
"Not until I get your hand down!" Bram growled.
I turned away from their childish antics and towards the clear lake. The surface was a reflection of the dusk that settled over the area like a cold, wet blanket.
Vincent reached out his hand to me. "Where are you going?"
"Just to the water. Get up my tent, will you?"
I didn't wait for a reply before I strode away.
CHAPTER 4
I walked down the gentle slope towards the water. Pine needles covered the ground until some thirty feet from the edge where it was replaced by white beach sand. The sand crunched beneath my feet. It was the only sound in the entire world but for the childish brags I heard behind me.
I reached the edge and paused. The lake was so wide the opposite shore was as distant as an old memory. On my left and right stretched its wide expanse of white sand, a barrier for brush and trees to reach the life-giving waters. The faint sound of a rushing creek signaled the source of the waters.
The two images of the lake, one reflected and the other real, stared back at me. All around me stood testaments to nature's dominating force. The sand beneath my feet sank and caught my feet. The brush that crowded at the very edges of the campground and threatened to consume the tables and fire pits. The tall, dark pine trees stretched into the sky, jagged, majestic reminders of nature's bounty and inevitable triumph over man.
The dead surface was interrupted by a cold breeze. I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. The act did nothing to dispel the chill that sank into my bones. I couldn't help but wonder if this was what it was like to feel someone walk on my grave.
The disturbed surface of the water rippled and washed against the shore. The waves pushed closer and closer to my feet. I tried to move away, but my feet were stuck in the sand. No amount of twisting and turning would free me. A thin veneer of clouds closed over the last remnants of the sun and left the world in darkening shadow. I twisted around to face the campsite and opened my mouth to call for them.
"Leila~"
I froze and my eyes widened. The voice didn't come from the campground. I slowly turned towards the lake. The water was calm again, and the reflections of the trees stretched towards me. A faint fog rose from the lake and floated towards me.
"Leila~"
My heart pounded. I couldn't free the scream that welled up inside me. The fog floated closer. Its wispy body dove up and down, mingling with air and water. The cold whiteness reached the edge of the shore and stretched out its unformed hands towards me. I flung up my arms to protect myself.
"What the fuck!"
The spell was broken. The mist retreated back onto the lake. I felt my feet freed from their sandy prisons. My knees buckled and I fell forward onto them. The fog had retreated, but my body still felt cold. I panted and white puffs of air blew from between my parted lips. Cold, wet tears streamed down my cheeks.
"That was cheating!" Bram shouted. It was his exclamation that had broken the silence.
"It's called strategy, Pipsqueak," Quill argued.
"Making me look is cheating!" Bram countered.
I heard a crunch of feet behind me and twisted around. Vincent walked towards me. The smile on his face disappeared when his eyes fell on me. He frowned and rushed up to kneel beside me.
"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
My voice was hoarse and hollow. I couldn't keep the quivering from my words. "V-Vincent, I-I saw something."
He wrapped his arms around me and swept his eyes over the lake. I was never so grateful for the warm feel of another human being, even if he was a werewolf.
"Maybe it was the fog?" he suggested as he returned his attention to me.
I shook my head. "No. I mean, it was the fog, but it wasn't. It was something else. Something in the fog."
"Let's get a fire started. Maybe that will make you feel better," he suggested.
I frowned and wrenched myself from his warm hold. "I didn't hallucinate! There was something there!"
Vincent studied my face and pursed his lips. "I believe you, but sitting here in the sand isn't going to help. Come on."
He helped me to my feet and turned me towards the campsite. I paused and glanced over my shoulder. The warm, calm water was a contrast against the cool mountain air. There would be a heavy fog that night.
Vincent helped me to the bench where the pair still argued. They both leaned over their respective sides of the table and shoved their face into the others.
"Get working, Pipsqueak!" Quill demanded. "That tent isn't going to build itself!"
"Fuck no! You get working because you cheated!" Bram argued.
&nb
sp; Vincent set me on the bench and took up my tent. He gave me a wide smile. "I'll set up your tent close to the fire," he offered.
I nodded. The words for a reply wouldn't come.
Vincent moved over to the opposite end of the fire pit and staked my tent. Bram and Quill noticed the activity.
"That's not our tent," Bram reminded him.
Vincent paused and looked up at the pair. "I know, but Leila needs her tent. You two can set up our tent."
Quill and Bram's narrowed eyes flickered to the other and they frowned.
"I'm not working with him," Bram refused.
"Like hell I'm working with Pipsqueak," Quill agreed. "Besides, Pipsqueak lost, so he makes the tent."
"Stop calling me that, and you cheated!" Bram countered.
I slammed my fist against the table. The whole company jumped. I whipped my head to the pair of children beside me. "Make the damn tent or go away," I growled.
The pair slipped off the benches and, with the tent tucked under Quill's arm, moved to the other side of the fire pit close to Vincent. The men worked away at the intricacies of the poles and covering while I cupped my head in one hand. My mind replayed the scene beside the lake over and over again.
Every remembrance brought a shiver to me, but the more I thought about the situation the more I doubted my own senses. Perhaps I had imagined the whole thing.
I glanced over my shoulder at the lake. A last gasp of sunlight broke through the horizon and illuminated the surface of the lake. The water was a picture of serenity. Its calm surface reflected the faint fog that rose into the air. Reflection Lake.
"Are you prepared for the reflection?"
I started. The memory of that dream intruded into my thoughts. I turned away and ran a hand through my hair. Perhaps the whole thing was a self-fulling prophecy, a product of my own mind willing false image into existence.
"It just has to be. . ." I murmured.
"Leila?" Vincent spoke up.
I started and turned to him. He stood close beside me. Behind him was my prepared tent. Bram and Quill still wrestled with their project.
"Yeah?" I asked him.
In each of Vincent's hands was a can. He smiled and held them out towards me. "Beans or corn?"
"Shouldn't that be your choice?" I commented as I glanced past him at the pair.
Vincent followed my gaze and cringed. "You're right. Corn it is." He half-turned away from me, but paused and looked back. "Are you sure you're all right?"
I glared at him. "I'm fine."
