by Amy Braun
She moved onto the back of my head and I couldn’t help but stiffen. It just felt so wrong.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s okay,” I told her, forcing my shoulders to drop and relax. “It just feels weird.”
Soon enough, Dro had finished healing my wounds. Aside from the dirt and bloodstains on my clothes, it was impossible to tell I’d had been in a fight. Even though she only had a few minor scratches, I made her heal herself. I’d been overly protective even when we were kids, and it had only gotten worse as we got older and our lives spiraled out of control. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for Dro. Nothing I wouldn’t steal, no law I wouldn’t break, no monster or man I wouldn’t kill.
I would burn the world to a cinder to save Dro.
After she healed and I’d concealed as much of the blood as I could, I rearranged the bag on my back and started walking out of the alley with my strange little sister behind me. The town was small and while the fire crews were on their way, it would take the sheriffs a few more minutes to get here.
More than enough time for me to steal a car and find somewhere else for us to run. When Dro had a nightmare, it meant monsters were close. I didn’t want to get into another fight if I could avoid it, even if they weren’t the things I feared the most.
The monsters scared me. The cartel and the federal Marshals hunting us scared me.
But Dro scared me more.
Chapter 2
We drove to Amarillo, which was only a fraction bigger than the last town we had been in. Amarillo was a sleepy place with some paranormal hunting groups, which was why Dro had suggested going there.
We spent the first day doing research. Dro went to the library and was checking out books while I waited in the car. I’d been ready to go in with her, but I was a wanted criminal. I couldn’t exactly go into a public building and hope I wouldn’t be recognized.
While I was waiting, I used the electronic tablet that had been in the car I’d stolen to read up on the Wanted lists on the U.S. Marshal website. A sketch of my angry face and a list of all my crimes were still posted there.
Aggravated assault. Drug trafficking. Breaking and entering. Assault with a deadly weapon. Aiding and abetting. Kidnapping. Possession of firearms. Theft of varying degrees. Arson. Manslaughter. First and second degree murder. Underneath the ever growing list was a note for a hefty reward of twenty-five thousand dollars for my capture.
I checked news sites to see what my old bosses, the Espanis de Sangre– the Blood Thorns– were up to. A shoot out with honest cops that left four officers dead, stripped of their skin with their badges nailed into their hearts. A bus full of children who were kidnapped, the boys forced to shoot their teachers and join the Thorns while the girls were raped and taken as sex slaves. The severed, veiled head of a rival gang leader’s newly wedded daughter on a bed of roses on his front porch.
So they’re having their typical Monday, I thought bitterly.
Remembering the things I had done for them brought up bad, unwanted memories. I had never crossed the line into murdering children or brides, but I hadn’t skipped out on a role as a torturer either. I had more than my share of blood on my hands, innocent and not.
I got out of my self-loathing, focusing on monsters and mythology instead. I did a couple of image searches of the Red monster, but all I saw were pictures of a stereotypical red, horned devil. Nothing specific enough.
After about half an hour, I gave up on the monster search and starting looking for a description of a creature with the same powers that Dro had. I came up with nothing. Whatever she was, she might be the only one of her kind.
I’d known she wasn’t normal when I found her…
I had been four years old, and our family had been relaxing for the weekend at Owl Creek Park, a few miles northwest of Temple Texas. I had wandered from the campsite and heard a baby crying in the forest. I’d followed the noise, and found a pale baby screaming and crying in a patch of earth that smelled like rotten eggs.
Since I hadn’t been able to stand the heart-wrenching, tortured cries she’d been making, I had wrapped her up in my coat and soothed her as best as a four year old could, rocking her back and forth and even singing to her. She stopped crying, then opened up her big blue eyes and stared at me. Her pale, chubby hand reached up and batted against my chin.
That was something I still liked to tease her about; that the first thing she did when I took her in was cry and punch me.
I had always wanted a sister. I’d overheard my parents talk of wishing they could have another kid, but Mom couldn’t get pregnant again for some reason. So I had walked back to the camp and found them, holding a naked, pale baby in my jacket, and smiled like the lunatic I was.
“Mom, Dad, look! You can have a baby now! I can have a sister!”
My parents had wanted to give her back to her family, and not just for the obvious reasons. We were poor. Really poor. The rusted, hundred dollar camper and a trip to the RV Park was the most Dad could afford for a vacation. He had been a construction worker and Mom had worked two jobs. They worked at places that didn’t care about immigration status, or lack thereof, and stayed wary of cops.
We had come across the border when I was two, since Dad wanted to escape his employment as a drug runner in Mexico. If the cops had found out, they would have sent us back across the border, and we would have been worse off.
Bringing them Dro had been another burden they hadn’t needed. I was a handful as a kid, always causing trouble, but I couldn’t leave her there. Even as a four year old, I knew right from wrong. It was wrong to leave a crying baby out in the middle of the forest to starve or be eaten by wolves.
It took almost endless convincing and a minor tantrum, but when no one showed up to reclaim Dro, we decided to adopt her. Dad wouldn’t risk giving a baby up for adoption in case the authorities got wind of us being illegals. Needless to say, it wasn’t long before they loved her as much as I did.
I suggested the name Andromeda because I saw it in a book about constellations, something my teacher taught us in the first grade, which my parents managed to slip me into a year early. Andromeda was a Greek Princess who had been chained to a rock for a sea monster to eat because her mother, Queen Cassiopeia, had been mouthing off about Andromeda being more beautiful Poseidon’s water nymphs. The hero Perseus saved her, killed the sea monster, and together they lived happily ever after. I figured at least the first half of that story matched Dro’s appearance in the woods, and my parents had liked the ring of the name.
We always knew she was different, but we never knew how much until the weird things started happening. Like her knowing things about the neighbors. Healing my cuts and bruises with a single touch. Sensing things way before I could.
The horrible nightmares, which only got worse as she got older…
A gentle rap on the car window startled me and made me jump about a foot in the air. Dro was standing outside of the car, an awkward grin on her face. She walked around the car and got into the passenger’s seat next to me.
“You looked really intense just now,” Dro said, closing the car door. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “You just scared the crap out of me.”
She grinned. “I was trying to get your attention. Guess it worked.” Her grin faded a little. “You look tired. Do you want to get something to eat?”
I tilted my head at her. “Not sure that’s a good idea, little sister. We’re fugitives, remember?”
“Come on, when was the last time we had a good breakfast?” She was smiling at me. “I know you want an omelet and bacon.”
My stomach rumbled at the thought of food. We ate whatever we could whenever we could, but Dro was right. It had been a very long time since we’d eaten outside of a motel room or a stolen car.
“Come on, Connie,” Dro said, sensing my hesitation. “One quick breakfast at a cheap, greasy diner. We can pretend to be normal for once.”
Those we
re the magic words: We can pretend to be normal for once.
My stomach grumbled again. It had been almost a year since I’d filled it with bacon.
“All right. But we follow the rules.”
Dro nodded, white hair bouncing against her shoulders. “Nothing over fifteen dollars and we make sure the restaurant is empty.”
I nodded back at her, tossing the tablet into the back of the car. “Okay. Let’s start pretending.”
***
Dro had picked out a mom-and-pop diner as soon as she’d left the library. The poor girl had been starving. I pulled the door open and walked ahead of her, bells tinkling over my head.
To normal people, it looked like a cheap, fifties diner with red and white tile on the floor, faded red booths and chipped tables. Light shone through the wide, greasy paned windows, illuminating the poorly printed signs boasting the “Best Breakfast in all of Texas!” A cool grey counter top with plastic bar stools was set up across from the booths. Behind it was a silver walled kitchen I couldn’t see into very well. There were two doors, the one we had walked into, and another at the other end of the diner.
I didn’t like this place at all.
It looked harmless enough, but all I was seeing was a place with only two visible exits and too many windows. I couldn’t see what the people in the kitchen were doing. They could call the cops or the Blood Thorns and I wouldn’t have a clue.
And if Dro sensed something wrong about them…
“Con?” she said from beside me.
I turned my head slightly so she would know I heard her. “Yeah?”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Of course,” I told her, shifting the bag on my back.
The kitchen door opened with a bang so loud I reached for the hatchet on my hip. I pressed myself closer to Dro, ready to throw her behind me.
Not that the woman who came out of the kitchen looked like a threat. She looked more like Dolly Parton, all curly blonde hair, big eyes, and peppy attitude.
“Mornin’ ladies!” she said in a chirpy Texan drawl. She smiled so wide the cherry red lipstick she wore turned into two curved slashes on her face.
I won’t say I hated her, but I damn sure didn’t like her.
My sister moved in front of me this time. She was a lot better around people than I was. She was friendly and didn’t constantly look like she was about to break something.
“Good morning,” Dro said politely. “We’d like to get some breakfast, please.”
“Sure thing, sugar! Take seat anywhere you like.” Dolly’s eyes shifted over Dro’s shoulder to me, some of her smile fading. “Your friend okay? She looks a little upset.”
I crossed my arms and held back from laughing rudely. Dro smiled for me. “She’s fine. She’s just not a morning person.”
This time I did laugh, shortly and icily. Dolly looked at me with hesitance, but Dro took over again.
“We’ll take one of the booths.”
“Sure thing, darlin’. Menus are on the tables. I’ll get you back in a second.”
Dolly turned on her heel and clacked her way back into the kitchen. I watched her, trying to see who else was beyond the swinging door. I wanted to know who Dolly was talking to and what she was saying about me. If there was someone back there I needed to be worried about. If–
Dro tugged at my elbow. “Con? Where do you want to sit?”
I looked around the diner again. There was no decent place. No corner I could sit in and watch all the exits. I looked at the booth on my left. It was the closest I was going to get to a corner.
“Here’s good,” I said, shrugging off my backpack and tossing it onto the seat. I sat down and moved into the corner by the window. Dro sat across from me. I unzipped my jacket so I could go for my hatchet or a knife easily if I had to.
Dro slid a gaudy, plastic menu with enormous type in front of me before picking up her own and looking at it eagerly. I glanced at the menu, but barely registered what I was reading. I kept flicking my eyes up toward the kitchen whenever I saw the hint of movement. A barrel-chested man in a white apron came into view. His face looked a little chubby, but he was big. Ghosts of tattoos covered the part of his arms I could see. He might have been holding a knife. I couldn’t tell for sure, but he didn’t seem to be looking at me.
The kitchen door banged open again and Dolly came back with a pot of coffee. I stayed tense and watched her out of the corner of my eye. Normal, normal, pretend to be normal…
“This should perk you right up, darlin’,” said Dolly as she poured some steaming black coffee into the mug near my wrist. I pulled my hand back and let her do it.
“Are you girls ready to order?” Dolly asked, purposefully looking at Dro and avoiding me.
“Yes, can I please get the chocolate chip pancakes and the mixed berry salad with a glass of orange juice?” Dro asked.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Dolly replied, jotting it down on her notepad. She looked at me with her big brown eyes. “And what can I get you?”
“Ham and cheese omelet with a side of bacon and potatoes,” I said, tossing the menu down the table and taking the mug of coffee. I glanced inside the cup. It smelled normal, not poisoned. I took a careful sip. It was scorching hot and a little bland, but it didn’t taste like acid.
“That’s a lot of food for one girl,” Dolly said, trying to be nice to me again.
I gave her a dark look. “I have a good metabolism.”
I didn’t add that I burned calories by fighting monsters and running for my life. My diet secret was for me to know and Dolly to envy. She looked at Dro again, clearly liking her more. Everybody did, and that was fine with me.
“I’ll be right back with your order,” Dolly said before scurrying off to the kitchen.
Dro looked across the table at me impatiently. “I thought we were trying to be normal,” she said.
“That is my normal,” I said, taking another sip of coffee.
“Normal people are a bit more polite.”
I just blinked at my little sister. She sighed and shook her head. Dro loved me and I loved her, but when it came to social skills, we were in a never-ending war.
“Did you find anything out?” she asked me after a moment.
“Nope,” I said, thinking back on my research in the car. “Just a bunch of sites saying that the Reds are demons. You?”
Dro shook her head, leaning back in the seat. “Not really. Most of what I came across suggested demons, too.” She looked at me. “Do you think that’s what they are?”
I shrugged. “Wish I knew, Dro. I’m not sure there’s anyone we could ask, either.”
“There must be someone here. A demonologist or paranormal investigator we can ask.”
“Assuming they know what the hell they were talking out. We can’t waste time looking through all the fakes and hoping we find the real deal.”
Bells tinkled harmlessly behind me. I turned sharply in my seat. Two parents with a young boy and younger girl walked in. The kids were tired and restless. The parents were trying to contain them. Dolly came back out of the banging kitchen door to greet them. I was ready to rip the fucking thing off its hinges. Dolly led them past us to another booth. The little girl caught sight of Dro and stared with wonder. Dro smiled and waved at her. The girl giggled.
The kid was harmless, just reacting the way everyone reacted around Dro, but it was unwanted attention. Having a beautiful, pale sister with snow-white hair and ice blue eyes made it difficult to stay under the radar.
When the family was seated three booths down, Dro looked at me again. “What if we went to a priest?” I took my eyes away from the family and looked at my sister. “They’d know for sure if we were being chased by demons, and they would know how to prevent them from coming after us, or at least tell us what they could want.”
“We prevent them by killing them, little sister. And I’m not sure we’d like knowing what they want.”
Dro narrowed her eyes. “
It doesn’t matter if we don’t want to know. We have to find out. I’m not going to die not knowing what I am or why I’m being hunted.”
I matched her sharp gaze, nerves forgotten. “Don’t say stuff like that. You’re not going to die. I’m going to keep you safe, just like I always have.”
She sighed. “This is so much bigger than us, Con. I can feel it. I’m not asking you to believe everything you hear, but we aren’t going to get anywhere if we skip obvious options.”
The kitchen door banged open again, Dolly coming towards us with huge plates of food. Dro’s eyes lit up, but I looked past them to the cook, the way he was chopping down with his knife. I’d seen similar motions when I was with the Blood Thorns. A blade slicing into flesh and removing it from the bone, blood gushing out like a fountain, a tortured man screaming for mercy–
I tensed again, nearly jumping when Dolly placed the plate of food in front of me. I glanced up at her, not hearing what she was saying because I was still shaking free of my memories. Dro said something nice to get her away from our table. A small smile played across my sister’s lips as she looked at the mountain of chocolate chip pancakes and berries in front of her. She picked up her fork and knife, cutting into her food.
I looked down at mine. The omelet was cooked pretty well, brown singed egg folded over and over with greasy ham and cheese seeping out of it. The potatoes were crispy and dark. The bacon was perfectly cooked and smelled like heaven. I grabbed my utensils and started eating.
Maybe it wasn’t the best diner in Texas. I hadn’t been to enough restaurants to compare. But to me, this was five star cuisine. It tasted homemade, reminding me of the Sunday breakfasts Mom used to make when she wasn’t working. I looked up at my little sister. She was in bliss, the small smile that I loved on her face as she devoured chocolate chip pancakes.
For a minute, we had the normality Dro wanted. We didn’t have to say anything. We could just sit there with each other and let everything else fade away.
But then the kids started arguing and I was snapped out of my trance. I kept eating, but my eyes focused over Dro’s head as the mother of the family was saying something to her kids with a sharp tongue. I couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but the little girl was trying to get out of the booth. What was she trying to run from? Was she just being stubborn, or was there something wrong that she was seeing and I was missing?
