by Dan Dillard
Chapter 3
The hours passed quickly. People-watching was the sort of past time he enjoyed. It was unclear if he had always liked it as a sport, or if he'd picked it up as a way to weed out the food from the herd. When it was time to feed, Jason liked to have a plan.
Prey on the shallow end of the gene pool, he always told himself.
When the bus came, he was glad, at least for the first leg of the trip, that it wasn't crowded.
"Bloomington?" the driver said as he stamped the ticket. "Heh, heh. I been there once. 'At was enough."
"That bad?" Jason asked.
He took back the ticket.
"Nah. But it ain't Texas."
He smiled at the man whose belly rubbed the bottom of the steering wheel.
"Not Texas is what I'm looking for," he said.
The driver shook his head. "You think that now, but you'll be missing her. Something about this state."
Jason nodded at the driver and then scanned the empty seats for one that suited him. He tossed his duffel on a seat next to a window. It was surprisingly comfortable and once the vehicle rolled, his heavy eyelids gave up.
The she wolf still watched him. Gray stole a glance back at the woman and child, then stepped lightly from his hiding place to join his mate. White snarled at him and he cowered for a moment, something he would never do in view of the pack. Of the group, he respected her most.
She stepped toward the strange looking beings and sniffed the air. The cooing of the baby and his mother caught her by surprise. Her curiosity concerned him and he stepped between his mate and the humans. She didn't charge at the strangers or make a sound. She could've barked a warning, or howled, letting others know of the alien presence. Instead, she stepped aside, showing respect, but keeping her mate within a safe distance.
A small fire flickered outside of the hut the family had constructed. Something temporary that protected them from the weather, but little else. Once they had gone inside, Gray nudged White and trotted back into the woods. She followed, looking over her shoulder on occasion.
When Jason woke, the bus was fueling. He stood to stretch and caught the eye of an older woman who was doing the same.
"We're at a truck stop, getting fuel. Grab a snack if you're hungry. There's still a long ways before I get off. Five more stops. How far are you a-goin?" she said.
"Indiana."
"Bless your heart."
Jason laughed. "I'm getting used to that reaction."
"Oh, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just a long time to be on a bus."
He leaned and twisted in an attempt to wake all of his muscles.
"I see what you mean. I guess I could use something to munch on."
The woman sat back in her seat and fiddled with a steaming cup of coffee. As Jason passed her, he caught the scent of decay. She was dying, ripe for the picking. But she had been kind to him and therefore was off limits.
Once inside, he walked the rows of garbage food, eventually finding some jerky that didn't looked okay. He grabbed it from the shelf and decided the coffee smelled magical.
"Can I get one for the road?"
"Sure hon. Up in a minute. Anything to go with it?"
He tossed the jerky on the counter.
After a trip to the restroom, he was back on the bus and they were once again rolling. His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Mrs. Hughes's number that came up, but he didn't answer it, simply pressed the button to ignore it. He would get back to her once he was settled. After a moment, it buzzed again, letting him know he had a voice mail. Curious, he listened.
"Jason, honey. This is Ms. Hughes, your landlady. A man came by here, oh, about an hour after you left. He said he knew you from a long time ago and was looking to reconnect. An older man, didn't leave his name. Call me and let me know where you are, honey. I didn't give him your phone number because I didn't know who he was. Hope you're well. I despise these answering machines."
He smiled at the message and saved the entry to call her back, if only to check on her.
A man I knew a long time ago? he thought.
The landscape rolled by in a blur. He thought again about the old woman, how she walked around alive, but smelled like death. It made him feel more alone, less a member of the world and more its spectator.
