Typical.
I kept walking. And walking. The evening passed slowly with no sign of Pete’s. It wasn’t until the sun descended behind a mountain that I began chewing my lip. I pictured the ditch I’d slept in last night. It had been cool but sheltered. Now? I was at high altitude in the mountains.
I stopped in the road. Wind whistled through the trees. Dying sunlight peeked over a mountain. No sign of civilization appeared anywhere.
Great, Lena. Well done. Nothing like being lost at high altitude with no food or water. Or shelter. Or any idea of where you’re going for that matter.
I picked up my pace and ignored the searing pain from a blister on my heel that burst wide open. The aggressive pace wasn’t easy, but I kept it up. My dry mouth and sandpaper tongue weren’t helping. My focus kept drifting from finding Pete’s to dreaming of water. At least it kept me from worrying about dying from exposure.
Yep, great logic, Lena. Instead, you’ll die from dehydration. Much more painful.
I rounded another bend in the road when a sound reached my ears. Dust swirled around my shoes when I abruptly stopped. I cocked my head and listened. A second ticked past. The sound came again. A faint, distant rumbling. I grinned.
That only meant one thing.
I twirled in a circle and tried to decipher from which direction the vehicle came. The rumbling grew louder behind me. I turned and searched for the vehicle in the evening twilight. Eventually, I spotted what made the noise. A shiny, new Suburban rounded a hill in the distance. Its headlights pierced the dim light and wove in and out of view as it snaked through the forest. My shoulders sagged in relief.
When the Suburban rounded the final turn, I ran into the middle of the road and waved both arms overhead. Thankfully, the vehicle slowed as it neared and ground to a halt about ten yards away. I jogged to the vehicle, but the driver’s door was already opening.
Dark boots with two-inch heels emerged. I stopped by the hood, tried to calm my breathing and waited for the driver to get out. When she extracted her long limbs, I examined her tall frame. She wore black from head to toe. Black boots, black pants, and a long-sleeved black shirt. Even her hair was black, and from the looks of it, she also had olive skin. Everything about her hinted at a Hispanic or Mediterranean heritage.
“Hi,” I said.
“Evening,” she replied.
I reached up to smooth my hair and hoped it wasn’t too wild. That always gave off a bad impression. “Say, you couldn’t give me a ride, could you? I’m trying to find a guy’s ranch, but I don’t know how far it is. I don’t think I’ll find it before dark.”
She didn’t respond.
I briefly wondered how I must look through her eyes. I hoped my lack of deodorant wouldn’t stop her from helping me. It had stopped more than one person in the past. “Um, would you mind?”
The silence stretched.
“You’re walking to a guy’s ranch?” she finally said.
“Yeah.”
She shook her head, her short black hair swaying while her brow furrowed. “Why?”
Why? Does it matter? “Well, he gave me a ride, and I left my backpack in his truck. I need to get it back.”
She cocked her head. “You forgot your bag in some guy’s truck.” She seemed to be saying it more to herself, but I nodded anyway. “That’s why you changed course again.”
Her words were so quiet I barely heard them, if I heard them. What I thought I heard didn’t make any sense. “Huh?”
“Nothing.” She stood quietly for a moment, still frowning. Finally, she sighed. “Okay, get in the back. We’ll take you to this ranch.”
For a brief moment, confusion filled me, but I was so grateful all I did was mumble thank you.
It was only when I reached for the door that I realized I’d broken my cardinal rule. Before she climbed into her seat, I switched my vision. Her cloud readily appeared.
My mouth fell open. I made my gaze shift back to normal and then switched it again. The same image glowed around her. What the . . .
A hazy blue and gold aura swirled around her shoulders.
“Are you okay?” She sat in her seat, the door still open as she peered out at me. For all intents and purposes, she looked like a normal twenty-some-year-old woman. However, the cloud that billowed around her spoke otherwise.
I switched my vision back to normal. “Uh, yes?”
She raised an eyebrow and slammed the door. I took a deep breath, my hand still on the door handle. Get in or keep walking? I frowned. It’s not as though her cloud seemed bad, just . . . different, not the white, gray or occasional black I was used to seeing.
Do you really want to spend tonight alone in the Rockies with no shelter?
I grasped the handle and pulled it open.
The second the interior was visible, my mouth fell open. Five other people sat in the Suburban. Three in the very back, one in the middle, and one in the front passenger seat. How had I not noticed that? I glanced at the windows. They were tinted, not to mention the interior light was off. No wonder I hadn’t seen them.
“Hello,” a girl exclaimed. She sat in the far back right. Unlike the driver, she had a bright friendly smile. Her button nose and shoulder length brown hair gave her a healthy, wholesome look.
“I’m Mica.” She waved.
“I’m Lena,” I replied automatically. I shifted my vision until her cloud appeared. Once again, the image completely blindsided me. Pink and blue hovered around her. I almost snapped my sight back to normal, but then assessed the two guys sitting beside Mica, the woman sitting in the middle row, and the guy looking out his window in the front seat.
They were all different.
Each person had colors in their cloud. All of them had the same blue but then everyone had a unique color. I’d never seen anything like it.
“Are you getting in?” Mica asked.
I shifted my sight back to normal. Mica still smiled brightly.
“Um,” I mumbled.
I wasn’t sure if I should. I’d seen hundreds of people, no, thousands of people, since that first morning in Rapid City. Every other person I’d met had similar appearing clouds. Dark, gray or white. The darker the cloud, the eviler a person was, the lighter, the kinder, but these guys? Not even close to normal.
“There’s plenty of room.” Mica still smiled.
I reminded myself their clouds didn’t appear bad, just inconclusive. “Right. I mean thanks.”
“Move your stuff, Jet.” Mica elbowed the guy sitting beside her. The guy reached forward and grabbed a duffel bag off the empty seat.
The two men beside Mica were obviously twins. Both had dark curly hair, stocky builds and bright blue eyes. Each of their biceps seemed as big as both of my thighs. The one by the window regarded me warmly. The one in the middle, Jet, smirked. I smiled tentatively in return before turning my gaze to the woman in the middle row.
For a moment, I just stared. She had to be some kind of supermodel. Her long blond hair flowed down her back in soft waves, and she had one of those hard-to-forget faces. Hollowed cheeks, a full mouth, and honey-brown eyes so piercing I couldn’t look away. Suddenly, I felt very self-conscious with my snarled, dark red hair and dirty, pale skin.
“So, get in . . .” Mica said slowly.
“Sorry.” I climbed in and closed the door. New car smell filled the cab. Whoever owned this vehicle must have recently bought it. When I sat, my knee banged into a huge suitcase in the aisle.
“Sorry about that.” The blond supermodel shifted the luggage.
“Ready?” the driver asked.
I clicked my seat belt in place, and with a spin of tires, we were off. The driver eyed me in the rearview mirror. “I’m assuming this ranch is in the direction you were walking?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind dropping me off when we get there, that’d be great.”
“Hmm,” was all she replied.
The Suburban picked up speed as we traveled down the bumpy road. The for
est grew darker by the second, and the air flowing in through someone’s open window dropped in temperature. I sighed. Despite this group having strange clouds, I was glad to be in a vehicle. Turning away from the window, I was startled to find the supermodel watching me.
“I’m Jacinda.” She extended her hand. Her nose wrinkled slightly. I knew she’d detected my stench.
I shook her long, fine-boned hand, and felt the usual embarrassment at my lack of hygiene. “Lena. It’s nice to meet you.”
“That’s Jet and Jasper,” Jacinda said, her face impassive again. She glanced toward the curly haired twins behind us. Jasper smiled, but the one in the middle, Jet, winked.
“In the front is Di and Flint,” Jacinda continued.
The woman in black, Di, eyed me in the rearview mirror as she drove, but the guy, Flint, sitting in the passenger’s seat, still stared out the window.
“Flint?” Jacinda said.
He didn’t move.
“Flint?” she called again.
He still didn’t move.
Jacinda frowned and shrugged, but my gaze lingered on the back of Flint’s head, not because he ignored me, but because there was something . . . about him. An emotion flickered through me, like a sense of déjà vu, but it passed too quickly for me to identify.
“So, you’re going to some ranch?” Jacinda asked. I forced my attention back to her. “Because some guy has your backpack that you left in his truck?”
“Yep.”
“Is he your friend?”
“Kind of.”
“Kind of?” she said.
I did an abrupt shake. “Wait, how did you know I left my backpack in his truck?”
“Isn’t that what you told Di?”
“Oh, right.” But that had been outside, when she’d been in the vehicle. Weird.
“So this guy is kind of your friend?” Jacinda’s eyebrows rose.
“Yeah. I just met him today.”
She eyed me, her light-brown eyes curious. “Then how were you riding with him?”
“I was hitchhiking. He picked me up this morning.”
“Hitchhiking?” Her tone told me exactly what she thought about that. “Do you hitchhike a lot?”
I assessed my filthy clothes and skeletal frame. I certainly didn’t look like someone who owned a car, or took the Greyhound for that matter. “Yeah.”
“Where were you going?”
“Little Raven.” Just thinking of the town made my breath quicken. I needed to get back there.
Jacinda’s smile widened. “So you were going to Little Raven.” She glanced toward the driver again. Di was still watching me in the rearview mirror. A small, almost smug expression shone in her reflection.
My brow furrowed. They knew I was going to Little Raven? But how could they know that? I hadn’t known I was going to Little Raven until that morning.
I shook that thought off. Of course, they didn’t know I was going there. I probably misunderstood, but then I remembered what Di murmured before I climbed in the Suburban, about how I’d changed course again. At least, that was what I thought she’d said. But how did any of that make sense? I sank back into my seat as an uneasy feeling settled in me. They all did have strange clouds . . .
“So, Leeena.” Jacinda took her time pronouncing the e. “Where are you from?”
“Rapid City.” It was the answer I gave everyone. After all, it was the closest I had to the truth.
“South Dakota?” Jasper called from the back.
“How long have you lived there?” Mica asked.
“A while.” I turned in my seat to better assess everyone. Jasper and Jet stared at one another, their expressions twitching a few times. They seemed oblivious to me studying them.
“A while?” Mica forced my attention to her.
“And you hitchhiked from Rapid City all the way to here?” Jacinda asked.
“That’s right.” For whatever reason, that statement made the entire Suburban fall eerily silent. I tried to keep my breathing even, but this group got weirder by the second. Between the strange clouds, probing questions and bizarre comments that I couldn’t possibly be hearing right, I didn’t know what to think of them.
Okay, it’s not the first time you’ve been in a strange situation. Just get control of the conversation and get out when they stop.
I smiled tightly and clasped my hands together. “Enough about me, where are all of you headed?”
I waited for someone to say something. Nobody did. Instead, the only reactions were a few, subtle glances to one another. The hum of the engine filled the void.
“Or, are you all from Colorado?” I asked.
“Oh . . .” Jacinda finally replied.
I followed Jacinda’s gaze. Di was eyeing me again in the rearview mirror.
“Well, we’re . . .” Mica cut in, but then she stopped and glanced at Di too.
“Ah—” Jasper said.
“We’re from all over.” After Di’s statement, the silence resumed.
“Oh, okay.”
A minute passed, and then Mica pulled a book out of her bag. A second later, Jet and Jasper turned on an action movie in the headrest’s TV. The sound of gunfire and screeching tires filled the back. As for Jacinda, she smiled sweetly and extracted a nail file from her pocket. Lifting her hand, she squinted in the dying light and began filing.
I frowned and sank back into my seat. I eyed everyone suspiciously. They all seemed busy, except for Flint. Not once had he shifted. There was just a tenseness around his shoulders that hadn’t abated since picking me up. It was the only indication he was actually alive. Otherwise, I’d probably assume he was their last victim. A dead body in the front seat, me soon to be the second.
Stop it, Lena, now you’re talking crazy. They’re not going to hurt you. They’re just strange.
I tried to convince myself of that as I leaned back in my seat. It didn’t help that someone’s water bottle lay on the floor. The sloshing sound beckoned me.
To ignore the water, I switched my vision. All of their clouds appeared, dancing and flowing together. They were incredibly beautiful in their own, unique way, but they were still different.
Very different.
CHAPTER THREE
About five minutes later, Mica lurched forward in her seat, her eyes glued out the windshield. “It’s just up ahead, a mile on the left.”
“What is?” I snapped my vision back to normal.
“The ranch you’re looking for.”
I eagerly peered ahead, but the headlights only illuminated the road and dark trees. “Are you sure?”
A few minutes later, just as Mica promised, a ranch appeared. Moonlight shone over vast open fields that stretched for miles. Fences lined the perimeter, and large, black specks dotted the distant hills. I guessed those were the Black Angus Pete told me about. Di slowed the Suburban.
“Is this it?” Di asked.
“I think so. Pete said his ranch was up this road, and it’s the only ranch so far.”
“Do you know what the name is?” Jasper asked.
Cocking my head, I paused. “Um, I think it was Hollow-way Hills or Hideaway Hills or something like that.”
“The entrance is up there.” Mica pointed.
I looked through the windshield again. “Where?”
“Up on the left.”
“Are you sure? I can’t see a thing.”
“I can see—” A thud sounded, and Mica’s voice died in a muffle. I snapped my gaze to her, but she was rubbing her arm and glaring at Jet.
“You can see what?” I asked.
“Nothing.” A strained smile covered her face. “But I think the entrance is up there.”
Before I could reply, Di sped up, and a classic arched timber entrance appeared like a giant mouth beckoning us to enter. A sign perched at the top. H . . . H something.
“Can anyone see the name?” I asked excitedly.
“Hideaway Hills,” Mica answered promptly.
“
This has to be it.” I grinned. “Thanks a lot for the ride. You can drop me off here. I’ll walk up the road.”
“No!” Mica and Jacinda shouted at the same time.
I leaned back, wide-eyed.
“We’ll drive you up there,” Di said. “It would be rude to leave you in the dark.”
Jacinda and Mica now smiled sweetly as if their loud outburst never happened. I reminded myself nothing about this group was normal.
We crept slowly up the drive. Lights shone at the top, illuminating a few buildings. Gravel crunched under the tires, and the breeze coming in through someone’s window carried sounds of chirping crickets and a distant owl.
When we reached the top, Di put the Suburban into park. Off to the right stood a large, well-lit two story house with a wide, wraparound porch and a hanging swing in the corner. A sign over the front door read, “Y’all come back now, ya hear.”
“That looks like the main house,” I said. “I can get out here. You really don’t need to wait.”
Di’s dark eyes flashed in the rearview mirror. She turned off the Suburban. “We’ll wait. Just in case you can’t find your friend.” From her tone, I knew there was no point arguing.
Mica grinned as I opened the door. She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “Want me to come with you?”
“If you want.”
We jumped out and walked along a stone pathway cut into the yard. Nighttime crickets chirped, and the wooden steps creaked softly underfoot when we climbed the porch. Once at the front door, I knocked and fervently hoped I’d find Pete. If I didn’t, I’d likely never see my backpack again. My stomach plummeted. I didn’t want to consider that possibility.
Muffled footsteps sounded on the other side. The door opened, revealing an older woman wiping her hands on an apron. Her gray hair swept back into a bun. Several wispy strands escaped to frame her cherub cheeks and warm hazel eyes.
“Hello.” She smiled and opened the door wider. The smells of home cooking wafted in the air. Roast beef and freshly-baked bread. I licked my dry lips. I didn’t think I’d ever smelled anything more appetizing. Her eyebrows rose. “Can I help you?”
Focus, Lena . . .
“I hope so.” I slapped a hand over my stomach when it rumbled loudly. “I’m trying to find a man named Pete. Does he live here?”
The Complete Lost Children Series Page 2
