“It’s too violent.”
“Oh...” I guess someone as passionate about preserving life wouldn’t be interested in bloody action movies. Oh, well. “So, how was your night?” I asked.
“Terrible,” he bluntly stated.
“You’re still not used to it?”
“It’s not that, it’s just...” He hesitated and even stopped chomping on the sandwich I brought him. “Last night in particular was really bad.”
“How come?”
“You’ll just think I’m crazy.”
Statements like that always sparked my curiosity. “No, I won’t.”
He sighed deeply like he was preparing to tell a long story. “I’ve been hearing a lot of strange noises. Weird guttural growling in the woods.” Oh, God, that sounded just like what I had heard. I hadn’t been able to put the right words together to describe it, but that was perfect. “It sounds like it’s all over the place, and every time I try to fall asleep, it wakes me up.”
I wanted to tell him I heard something similar last night, but Joe looked pretty freaked out and I didn’t want to do any more damage, especially when he was so persistent on camping out. “There are a lot of animals out here,” I said in an attempt to sooth his mind. “You’re probably hearing a cluster of all their mating calls and things like that.”
“Yeah,” he responded, but I could tell he didn’t buy a word of it.
“So, how’s my cooking?”
“Too much peanut butter,” he critiqued.
My smile fell. “Oh, well, I put some on each side. Thought that’s how everyone did it. I’ll make sure to add more jelly tomorrow.”
“It’s fine,” he said and wrapped up the remainder of the sandwich again. He looked so mopey and pale, I felt bad for the guy.
“Hey, are you really all right?” I asked as I put my hand on his shoulder.
“Just spooked, I guess.”
“Well, hey, it’s daytime. At least nothing bad ever happens during the day.”
“It’s not the day I’m worried about.”
“You could always go home, you know. No one would think any less of you. Heck, with this town, I say they’d think higher,” I said with a snort.
“I promised myself I would be out here for a week, and that’s what I intend to do.”
“How long has it been now?”
“Five days.”
“You’re almost there,” I cheered.
“Hopefully, I make it,” he groaned, and then very slowly blew air out of his mouth with exhaustion. “Wild animals I can deal with, weird noises I can deal with. What I can’t deal with is the strange feeling I got. Like I was being watched. Hunted, even.”
I swallowed deeply. Joe was kind of creeping me out.
He laughed uncomfortably and said, “Maybe everyone is right. Maybe I really am crazy.”
I felt a little bad leaving Joe behind, but his mannerisms and his stories were totally putting me in a weird state of mind, and standing in the woods was about the last place I wanted to be, especially since our stories matched up so well. I convinced myself all the clamor I heard the previous night had to be my active imagination, but Joe saying he heard the same thing was just too damn coincidental. It put me on edge.
When I got to my front porch, I didn’t even notice Owen was on it, at first. He smiled at me and instantly a woman walked out from behind him carrying some kind of small container. She looked like female Owen, so it was a safe bet it was Molly.
“Cora!” she yelled. I thought it sounded weird because the way she said my name sounded like we were old best friends or something. “Cora, hi,” she continued and then ran up to me and pulled me into a hug. Her grabbiness was a bit of a surprise, and my initial reaction was to awkwardly laugh and tap my hand against her back.
“This is my sister, Molly, in case you didn’t notice,” Owen said.
Molly broke our hug. “Oh, yes, sorry. I’m Molly.”
“Yeah, I figured that out,” I responded with a laugh.
“Sorry, I’m just so excited to meet you.”
“You are?” I was legitimately amazed.
“Yes! Owen said you volunteered to help me with the fundraiser. I’ve been dying to get someone on my side for a change. Especially someone so pretty.”
I wasn’t sure what my looks had to do with it, but it was flattering, nonetheless. “Gee, thanks,” I responded and automatically blushed. I didn’t even think I felt embarrassed, but my cheek’s pigmentation had a tendency to betray me. It was always turning red when too many people looked at me.
“Here, I made you these,” she said and shoved a plastic container at my gut. For a small girl, she sure was strong. “They’re blueberry muffins. My specialty.” I took off the lid and inside were these pale, dry looking blueberry muffins that seemed to be drowning in specks of sugar. I could practically taste the sweetness already. “Owen said you were a vegetarian, so I wanted to make you something inoffensive.”
“Muffins work. Thanks.”
She beamed. “I try to do this for every new neighbor, as part of the welcome wagon.”
“No way, this town has a welcome wagon?”
“You’re looking at it.”
“Just you?”
“No one else will do it.”
“Well, hey, that’s cool of you.”
“It is, isn’t it?” she said and put one hand on her hip and flipped her brown, shoulder length hair. No joke. I didn’t realize women were really like that.
“So, what kind of fundraiser is this?”
“Owen didn’t tell you?”
“He said you would.”
“It’s a dating auction, of course,” she said with an over the top enthusiasm. I wish I felt the same way, because the second those words came out of her mouth my eyes enlarged to the size of potatoes.
I swallowed hard. “A dating auction? Like, where people buy dates with you?”
“Well, duh, silly,” she responded and patted me on the head like a dog. “We were really low on girls, so you showing up is kind of a miracle. Like the universe sent you. Or the dating gods.”
I nervously laughed. “Yeah, something like that...”
“Having second thoughts?” Owen asked. My pale face and large eyes must have been a dead giveaway.
“No,” I insisted. “Just a little surprised.”
“Owen didn’t tell you, huh? Makes sense. Most people have turned us down.”
“Well, most people find these things weird,” Owen countered to his sister.
“Just stuck up prudes,” she said. “These things are fabulously fun.”
“Are you being auctioned off?” I asked her.
She rolled her blue eyes like I had asked the dumbest question. “Of course not. Don’t be silly. I’m running the thing.”
“So, you’re kind of like our pimp then.”
Owen laughed, but Molly looked disgusted. “Don’t be crude. I have a lot of duties to attend to, and auctioning myself off is just one more duty than I need. Besides, if we’re really low on women I can always throw myself in for the heck of it. I am the backup plan.”
“So, there are other women doing this?”
“Of course! Please don’t back out of this,” Molly urged with desperate eyes, and grabbed me by the hands and clutched as hard as she could. Her nails may have been dolled up in pink polish, but they felt like deadly weapons. “We need all the help we can get.”
“I’m not backing out.” I winced. “Uh, could you get the claws out a little? I think you’re breaking skin.”
She laughed uncomfortably and let me go. “Sorry. I simply want this to go smoothly, and if one more person pulls themself out, I...” Molly put on a fake smile. “But you’re not, right?”
“I guess not.”
“Goody.” Molly clapped her hands together and looked to her brother with glee and then back at me. “Well, you enjoy your muffins. I made them with you in mind.”
“It makes them all the better,” I
said and raised up the container with my one hand that hadn’t been pierced by her daggers.
“I’ll see you at home, Owen,” she said to her brother and then hopped away from the two of us. I didn’t really know what to make of her. She seemed sweet and peppy, but a little controlling. If she snapped and killed somebody, it would not surprise me.
“So, that’s your sister.”
Owen laughed as though he knew every thought I was thinking. “She means well, really. She’s just bad at first impressions.”
“I relate.”
“Thanks for humoring my sister. She’s really into this stuff.”
“I suppose it’s the least I could do after you’ve been helping me.”
“She wasn’t too much, was she?”
I held my breath for a moment. “She’s a character.”
“When there’s someone new, she gets really excited and nervous and she tends to talk a lot. “
Molly and I seemed to have a lot in common.
“Molly is just really into getting the church into good shape. A few years back, she sort of found religion, I guess you could say. We, uh, lost our parents and it was the one thing she found comfort in.”
“You lost your parents?”
“Yeah,” he responded with his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground. Talking about it was obviously a really tense subject for him.
I was a little lost for words. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“How...?” God, I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries. “Can I ask what happened?”
“A fire. We were all sleeping when the house lit up. I was only able to get Molly out, since our bedrooms were upstairs and side by side. Our parents were already engulfed.”
“Oh, God... Jeez, I know I said it already, but I’m really sorry.”
He nodded very slowly. “Do me a favor and not bring it up around Molly. It’s not something she’s ever been good with talking about.”
“Of course. Whatever you say.”
“I only wanted to bring it up so you could, sort of understand what she’s been through.”
“And you,” I corrected.
He didn’t seem too interested in agreeing with me. “I have to admit, I was a little hesitant in telling you.”
“How come?”
“It’s a small town. Everyone knows everybody’s business and you were the first person not to know all that already. You didn’t look at me like a victim yet.”
“I still don’t. If anything, I look at you like a survivor.”
His freckled cheeks swelled into a smile. “I can live with that.”
“I’m glad you felt you could tell me. I know we don’t know each other well, but it’s flattering that you’d trust me with this. Well, not that it’s a secret or anything, since I’m the only one that didn’t know.”
Owen nonchalantly shrugged. “You’re easy to talk to. There’s a lot of whispering, judgmental folk around here and I never got that impression about you.”
“Glad to hear. Sometimes people find me annoying.”
“What?” he asked in a very genuine surprised tone.
I giggled at his high pitched what. “I come off the wrong way, sometimes.”
“What, you talking about Priscilla from the store? She hates everybody.”
“And that guy in the woods, Max.”
Owen’s smile practically evaporated off his face. “Yeah, well, like I said the guy is a jerk.” It was the second time the mention of Max made Owen’s whole demeanor change. This didn’t feel like a casual dislike.
“You know him personally?”
“Why would you say that?”
“You sound like you do.”
“We have some history, yeah,” he responded casually. It was pretty clear he was downplaying it, and that only made me more intrigued. “Let’s not talk about it, though.”
“What, you mean you don’t want to tell me your entire history in one afternoon?” I teased. It was pretty snoopy of me to find out about his parents and then irritate him with questions about a history he may or may not have with some rude guy in the woods. So I dropped it.
“You want to start on the painting then?”
“Sounds good. But you have to stay for dinner afterward.”
“You’re doing the dating auction. I don’t need anything else.”
“Everybody could use a good, free meal, Owen. Of course, I’m making it, so I can’t guarantee it will be good, but dammit, I can guarantee it will be free.”
He laughed and said, “All right.”
We painted and shot the breeze for over an hour before we finished up and headed inside. Owen cleaned up and listened to Grandma’s wacky stories while I prepared a salad and grilled some chicken for the two of them. Contrary to popular belief, just because I’m a vegetarian doesn’t mean I won’t cook meat for someone. I just would prefer not to. But Owen insisted he was a carnivore, so I had to put the guest first. Grandma was happy I wasn’t forcing her to eat any soup or food that was green, and practically blackmailed Owen into coming over every night so I was forced into making something good.
Grandma and Owen got along great. He was really good with her.
It wasn’t even all that late when Owen abruptly said he needed to get home. He didn’t come out and say it, but I think his sister was in the back of his mind. I didn’t know either of them all that well, but from the little interaction I saw between them, I could tell he was super protective of her. He didn’t want to leave her alone at night.
“He’s a good boy,” Grandma said to me as I rinsed off our dinner plates.
“Yeah, he is.”
“You think he’s gay?”
I almost dropped my plate with laughter. “Why would you say that?”
“No boy is ever that polite, unless he’s hiding something.”
“I think there are some straight men capable of being nice.” I turned off the running water from the faucet. “I think I’m going to let these soak tonight. Have to get up early in the morning.”
Believe it or not, but Joe kept creeping into my thoughts every once in a while. Whenever the image of his scared eyes flashed inside my brain, it was always accompanied with the memory of that low rumble growl I heard outside my bedroom window. I was actually scared for Joe tonight.
And it showed, because it began taking over my dreams.
I dreamt I was lying in bed and the bedroom was engulfed in total darkness. The kind where you can hardly see your own hand in front of your face. A strange noise that sounded like a garbage truck came humming from the closet. At first it was quiet, but as time went on, it built and built until the whole room swelled with the sound. In a typical dream fashion, instead of hiding out of terror, I got right out of bed and went tiptoeing toward the source of the sound.
The closer I got, the louder and clearer the noise became. I realized it was a growl, and whatever this thing was didn’t like how close I was getting. I grabbed the edge of the closet door and pulled it further open, and there, inside the darkness, was a pair of glowing yellow eyes, peering at me as it snarled and growled. I was frozen with fear as the beast took the form of a wolf and then leapt at my face.
Quite violently, I jumped up from my sleep, covered in sweat.
The nightmare wasn’t far from my thoughts the next morning as I packed up the day’s supply of food for Joe. I had to keep telling myself it was just a dream and I wasn’t going to run into any animals with glowing eyes out in the woods.
“Making more food for that nice hobo?” Grandma asked as she entered the kitchen, still donning her nightgown.
“He’s not a hobo, Grandma. He’s protesting.”
“When I was young, people who slept out on the streets were called hobos.”
“Technically, he’s not out on the streets, but in the forest.”
Her lips wriggled with disgust. “You don’t suppose he’s fornicating with the animals, do you? Because I’ve read people do
that.”
“Ew, Grandma, no.” I stopped myself and shrugged. “Well, I don’t think he is.”
“If I were you, I’d carry a gun.”
“People don’t just have guns lying around.”
“I do.”
I looked at her curiously. “There’s a gun in the house?”
“It’s in the fireplace.”
“Whoa. How am I just learning about this?”
“I may be older than Moses, but a woman has to protect herself.”
“You mean you actually know how to fire one of those things?”
“Yes. Don’t you?”
“Mom said guns were for the homicidal.”
“Your mother...” she said with a disapproving headshake. “Never take advice from that woman. Ever.”
“Whatever you say. I don’t want to piss you off now that I know you’re packing heat.”
I left my gun toting grandma behind and headed out to go deliver the food for Joe. It didn’t sit well with me, knowing Grandma had a gun in the house when she was so forgetful. If she burnt food because she couldn’t remember she was cooking, what would happen if she forgot to take the safety off a weapon?
I stepped through twigs and branches and scraped up the bottoms of my legs as I treaded through the forest looking for Joe. Everything felt a little bit moister than usual, and there was this weird aroma in the air that I couldn’t quite place. A little bit of nature, a little bit of animal hair, and a lot of mold.
It didn’t dawn on me right away that I had been going through the woods a lot longer than I normally had to. The last time, it was within five minutes that I found Joe, but now it had easily been a good ten minutes of me searching for him and still I hadn’t seen him.
“Joe?” I called out. I had to have gone the wrong way completely, but I could have sworn I knew where I was going. I decided to trace my steps and go back to where I began. Once I was at the rim of the forest I proceeded on like I would normally, but again Joe was nowhere to be seen. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t my sense of direction.
I nearly tripped in the midst of my search, and before I fell, I looked to kick the object out of my way. That was until I saw what it was; a pair of sneakers. Seeing these presented before me made a lightbulb go off in my head, and I realized I was standing right at Joe’s tree. Shredded pieces of the rope were even on the ground, but had sunk into the wet dirt and weren’t visible when I did my initial search.
Lunar Rampage (Lunar Rampage Series Book 1) Page 5
