by J. E. Taylor
“THE NUMBER OF IMBECILES you need to collect for me has tripled because of Death’s son,” Fate had said, spitting the words out with venom. “He opened a breach in York that let loose some serious monstrosities.”
Her red dress flared around her as she flipped through the pages of her book, sneering at each entry like she smelled something sour.
When her gaze lifted to mine, she snarled, “What the hell are you waiting for?”
I turned with my instructions, and headed back to the house to collect my things for the next hunt.
I SAT UP STRAIGHTER in the booth and reached into my pocket for my phone. My hand came up empty and I berated myself for not grabbing any form of electronics for this trip.
I glanced at my pocketbook and pulled it over, rifling through it to see if perhaps Alex’s phone had been tucked away while we were in Las Vegas, but I came up empty. I leaned back in the seat just as Sandy stepped to the side of the table with my meal.
I looked at the plate and sighed.
“Is there something wrong with your meal?” she asked with genuine concern.
I shook my head and made the hand gesture for a pen. She handed me her pen and a clean sheet from her pad.
I left my phone at home and needed to do a quick search on the internet. I handed her the paper and shrugged.
She pulled her smart phone out of her pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to me with a smile. “You can use my phone,” she said. “I’ll come get it after I go give those folks their food, okay?”
I gave her a thumbs-up and typed in York in the internet search box. Too many entries came back for unrelated things, like colleges and even New York City, which wasn’t a place I wanted to hide out in. There were just too many people, and while the Hudson led to the ocean, it was not the most ideal place to recuperate.
I refined my search to the town of York and the results came back with five options in the United States. Wisconsin was out. I did a search on the map for each of the others and there were only two options close enough to the shore to be viable. Between the two, the one in Maine was actually right on the shore.
I exited out of the search engine and put the phone on the corner of the table before I dug into my breakfast. The egg was perfect, and I closed my eyes, letting the creamy texture of the hollandaise sauce coat my mouth before I swallowed.
“Did you find what you needed?”
I glanced up at Sandy with a smile.
The odds were that York, Maine wasn’t the same place that Fate had been talking about when she went on her mini-rant so many years ago, but at least it gave me a true destination.
I made the sign for thank you and continued eating the meal.
“You’re welcome,” she said and crossed back to the counter.
When I finished my meal, I waved for the check. The total bill was less than ten dollars, but I pulled out one hundred and ten dollars, leaving it on the table without waiting for Sandy to pick it up.
Just as I was getting into the driver’s side, Sandy stepped out of the door.
“Ma’am?” she called holding up the bill and the cash. “I think you made a mistake.”
I glanced over the top of the car, shook my head, and gave her a thumbs-up.
The girl beamed. “Thank you!”
I slid into my car and pulled away as Sandy gave me a hearty wave. With a smile on my face, I headed north towards Denver. As soon as I stopped for the night, I’d search out one of those big electronic stores and get myself a global positioning system and a computer. I wasn’t sure a phone was such a good idea, unless I bought one of those prepaid things just until I found a permanent residence. I didn’t want anything linked to San Diego.
My wandering mind snapped back to my current surroundings as I pulled out of the populated town into the desert. The colors and textures of the hills to my right kept pulling my attention away from the road. The reds, greens, oranges, and grays all blended in a symphony of colors like I had never witnessed.
Alex was right—this landscape was as breathtaking as the open ocean. I was in awe of my surroundings, and thankful that the traffic had thinned out so I could gawk. By the time I merged onto 89A in Sedona, I was in sensory overload and my gas tank was on empty.
I pulled into the next gas station and went inside to use the facilities before grabbing some munchies and drinks. I also paid for the gas to fill up. While I filled up the tank, my gaze kept going towards those painted hills. I sighed. I hadn’t ever ventured far from the coastline, and now a sour taste of regret filled my mouth.
I drove away from the station without a second glance. The chips and juices I had on the front seat were gone by the time I hit Flagstaff.
While there, I pulled off to fill up my tank and my juice reserves. I glanced in the mirror at the state of my skin and hair and sighed. The desert dryness was sucking the moisture right out of me, but I couldn’t use another gallon of seawater until I had my morning bath.
As I paid for my juice and water, I reached over and added a map of the United States onto the pile. I also grabbed a package of cookies and some Snickers bars on a whim. With a smile, I paid the total and once outside by my car, I dumped everything in the front seat.
I unfolded the map after I pumped gas and plotted my course. The question remained. Do I continue on Interstate 40 through more desert than I cared to see or head north to Interstate 70 and the Rocky Mountains?
Alex remained quiet, waiting for me to pick the route. I traced my finger along the highways and smiled when Interstate 70 ran through Kansas, home to the world’s largest ball of twine.
If I was taking a road trip with my dead husband, I might as well hit one of his bucket list items along the way. I tracked an eight hour drive from Flagstaff, which would put me in the Grand Junction, Colorado area. I thought about pushing ahead more, but I knew by the time eight hours passed, I would be ready to eat a restaurant and pass out from the food coma.
I folded the map to Alex’s soft chuckle in my mind. Twine it is, I thought and pulled onto the road, following the signs to US 89 North.
It took me a little over an hour to get to US 160, and the country I traveled was the most desolate of deserts. In some areas, there wasn’t even a bush in sight. Just the thought of being stuck on this sand-filled land gave me a shiver so severe, I almost had to stop.
I stopped at the junction of 264 to refuel and relieve myself. A quick glance in the rearview mirror almost made me break open the cooler in the back. I matched what I looked like just a mere eight hours ago. I bought a bag of plastic cups and poured a little saltwater in, just a quarter cup, and set it in my cup holder next to a newly opened juice.
I pulled back onto the road and stuck my fingers into the warm liquid. Within seconds, my hand absorbed the seawater, leaving nothing in the cup. The effects were barely visible. My heart thundered in my chest, drowning out the drone of the wheels on the asphalt.
I passed the Elephant Feet landmark with only a cursory look and pressed the pedal to the floor, flying down the open highway without caring how fast I was going. I just wanted out of the desert and away from this wasteland that was draining every drop of water from my body.
Signs for Kayenta, Arizona and Navaho Nation blurred by. It wasn’t until I saw the signs for US 191 North did I hear the siren behind me. I glanced at the speedometer and gasped. My needle was buried beyond the 110mph mark. I slowed and finally pulled over to the side of the road.
Why did you stop? He’s going to call your license in, and you know what that means, don’t you?
I ignored Alex. I knew well enough. If the officer called this in, Fate would have an idea of where I was. I didn’t know how fast she could get someone out here, but just the thought of going up against her made my stomach clench.
I rolled the window down. The desert heat hit, and my throat tightened. All the juice in my stomach rolled. I covered my mouth just as the officer leaned in the window.
“Where you going in such a hur
ry?”
I swallowed the bile that rose in the back of my throat. I’m visiting family in Colorado, I signed.
Then I covered my mouth again as my stomach did a slow roll. I threw open the door, and all the juice from the morning ride came barreling out, all over the officer’s shoes. He jumped back as I spit and shivered, closing the door again.
He glanced at the steaming mess at his feet and then at the contents of the passenger seat before returning his gaze to me.
I guess I’m not handling pregnancy very well, I signed.
His forehead creased.
I touched my throat and shook my head.
“You can’t talk?”
I shook my head again.
“But you understand what I’m saying.”
I nodded as the stagnant scent of orange juice and bile rose from the steaming dirt. I closed my eyes and swallowed a second burn of bile.
He pressed his lips together. “Move up a couple feet, please,” he said and pointed ahead. His other hand remained on his firearm.
I put the car in drive. Temptation dragged nails over my skin, and I almost pushed the gas pedal to the ground. I curbed the impulse because I knew if I jumped the gun, my license plate would be called in and a possible chase would follow. I wasn’t in any condition to deal with a night in jail.
He stepped to the window again just as my emotions ran away from me. My chin quivered and my eyes filled with tears. I made the motion of a pregnant woman over my stomach just as the tears spilled over.
“Pregnant?” he asked.
I nodded and made a writing motion.
He pulled out a pen from his shirt and handed it to me along with the back of a ticket stub.
I wrote, I’m sorry. I was trying to get to my parents place in Colorado before that happened. I’m not handling this pregnancy very well. I handed him the pen and paper back.
He gave me a knowing smile. “Ginger ale and Social Teas are the only thing my wife can keep down these days. You have a whole boatload of acidic stuff on that seat. That doesn’t help.”
I glanced at my stash of empty wrappers and juice containers.
“Sugar and preservatives.” He chuckled. “No wonder you hurled. Stick with fruits for your sugar fix. It seems to help my wife... and it will help get rid of that death’s door look.” He stood taller and cleared his throat. “I’m going to need your license, ma’am.”
My heart plummeted as I reached for my pocketbook. My hope of not getting reported died with his request. My license still had my last name as Paradox, not Cervas. My chest tightened. If I let him call my license number in, Fate would have a digital mark as to where I was.
I had no real choice in the matter. It was either hand over the license, run, or use my siren. The last two options had consequences I couldn’t live with, so I handed him my license while trying to control my chin tremble.
He took my license and made his way back to his car, circumventing the vomit. I sat staring at the rearview mirror as he typed in my information. My heart pumped in my chest, making my fingers and toes tingle and my head feel light. I wiped my tears away in disgust. Crying was never my thing, and annoyance filtered through at my inability to stop the tear parade.
The officer came back and handed me my license, his expression more serious than it was when he first pulled me over. “Your license is clear of any tickets, but you need to promise me you won’t speed like you were. That usually comes with a hefty fine for reckless driving, but I’m giving you a break.”
I nodded and signed, I promise, then dumped the license in my pocket book. I added, thank you.
“Go on.” He tilted his head towards the road.
I pulled out and kept to the speed limit until I crossed into Utah via US 191. The three-hour ride on US 191 took me from the desert flats of Arizona to the rocky terrain of Utah on one side and Colorado mountains on the other. While I had seen the Sierra Nevada range in California, this was even more majestic.
I stopped to fill up once I turned onto US 70 East. While the gas pumped, I strolled inside the shop and grabbed ginger ale like the officer had suggested. They didn’t have anything else that tickled my fancy, so I went back out to the car.
Scanning the map, my gaze landed on a town south of where I was headed. I laughed silently at the name.
Paradox, Colorado.
If I had been in Fate’s shoes, I probably would’ve scoured that town first. I wished I hadn’t revealed all that I had when she gave me the Las Vegas job. If I had known I would be on the hunted list, I never would have divulged my weakness.
The cop had my license plate and the make and model of the vehicle. I sighed and glanced around at the camera’s in the area before glancing at my wrist. The sigil I drew had faded.
A cold breeze bit at my skin. I was well aware of the ease in tracking someone with the minimal information Fate had. I shivered, wondering just how prudent it was to remain on my current track.
I figured once I hit Grand Junction, I’d have to reassess my journey and find a tattoo parlor to make this sigil permanent.
With a full tank and another hour or so on the road before I hit my destination, I pushed myself onward, even though every muscle in my body wanted to curl up and sleep. I didn’t bother glancing in the rearview mirror. I already knew the state of my deteriorating body.
Chapter 3
Grand Junction, Colorado was the biggest town I had been through since I left Phoenix and it was a welcomed sight.
I pulled off of US 70 onto North Avenue. I passed a couple of motels, but none of them had any places to eat that struck a chord. I didn’t want to drive for food either. I needed to stretch my legs as much as I needed a seawater bath. As I passed the medical center, I spied an inn with a diner next door and pulled in without any nagging urge to keep going like all the other ones.
With food and sleep at the top of my list, I parked next to the office of the Palomino Inn. The desk clerk didn’t look up from the television when I walked in. I stood at the counter while his gaze was glued to the squawk box and when he still didn’t divert his eyes from whatever action was playing across the screen, I tapped the counter to get his attention.
When he finally looked up, his eyebrows rose, and he scrambled to his feet, his cheeks reddening. “I’m sorry, ma’am. What can I do for you?”
I put up my index finger.
“One minute?” he asked while he chewed a wad of gum. His gaze drifted back to the television set.
I pulled a room pamphlet from the carousel next to me and pointed to it. The movement caught his attention and I held up the picture of a room.
“Oh, you want a room?”
I nodded and said yes in sign language as well.
“You a deaf mute or something?” he asked.
I shook my head and tapped my throat.
“So you can hear me?”
I nodded.
“That will be fifty dollars for the night,” he said, his gaze drifting again.
I really wanted to look over at the screen to see what had him so enthralled, but I thought twice when the redness in his cheeks didn’t fade. He took the money I handed him and then hastily turned to grab one of the room keys off the wall.
“If you need anything, just holler,” he said as he handed me the key. He blinked and then his eyes widened. “Sorry.” He laughed a high-pitched laugh. “You know what I mean.”
I gave him a thumbs-up and took my leave. Once inside the room, I carted in another gallon of water. One look in the mirror told me I needed to do this now and not in the morning. My eyes were sunken and my skin pale and shallow in the cheeks. My hair looked like dried wheat. I didn’t know if food would revitalize me at all at this point.
The tub had an old rubber stopper that didn’t fit well, so instead of pouring the water in the tub and then stepping in, I sat down in the cold porcelain and drizzled the water over my head. What pooled in the tub absorbed into my skin moments later. Even my hands transformed, hyd
rating before my eyes.
I sat until every last drop was taken into my skin and then stood, toweling off what remnants remained before dressing. My jeans hung on my hips, and I cursed that I never grabbed a belt. I slipped a camisole over my bra and pulled on one of Alex’s old chambray work shirts. The shirt felt soft against my skin and I welcomed it as much as I had the seawater.
On the short walk to the diner, I noticed the shopping plaza next door contained not one, but two tattoo parlors. I nearly laughed at my luck.
Alex remained silent in my head. I wasn’t sure if he just didn’t want to spoil the upbeat mood I was in or if he just didn’t have anything to say.
My heart squeezed. I missed him, and the weight of the loss crushed down on me to the point I didn’t want to go inside the eatery, because if the waitress asked how I was doing, I might burst into tears like I had when the cop pulled me over.
I stood on the sidewalk, just staring at the little diner. It was open twenty-four hours, so I could stand in this paralysis all night if necessary. My gaze moved to the adjoining plaza. The sign for Native Ink mocked me.
My feet turned and moved towards the tattoo shop instead. Crying while a needle full of ink pierced my skin was much more palatable than bawling alone at a diner. I stepped inside the reception area.
A girl with jet-black hair and a nose piercing looked up and smiled. “What can we do for you today, ma’am?”
I hated being called ma’am, but I guessed with the wedding ring still on my finger, she couldn’t really refer to me as a miss anymore.
Tattoo. I signed and walked to the counter making the motion for pen and paper. She didn’t seem the least bit fazed by my sign language and handed me both a pen and paper with a smile. I took a few minutes to draw the sigil in detail for her. Once I was sure it was exactly right, I handed my drawing to her and pointed to the back of my shoulder.
She glanced at the detailed drawing and nodded. “You want it this size?” She held up the paper.
I nodded.
“Turn around,” she said and I did. “You want this on your shoulder?” She touched the muscular part of my shoulder. “Or here on your shoulder blade?” She tapped lower on my back right over my shoulder blade.
