Bonnie

She tossed and turned, throwing blankets off the small bed. Her eyes fluttered behind closed lids as her brain brought images into being. Memories came back as dreams, surreal and yet so lifelike she could no longer tell if she was dreaming or awake. It was happening again.

* * *

The whole street was watching the firefighters combat the fire. She'd seen the smoke all the way from the coffee shop. She'd followed the sounds of sirens and the smell of char to find her home wreathed in flames. It was definitely the townhouse she and her younger brother shared.

And it was gone.

She pushed her way past her neighbors up to the police line and watched as her world burned. It was the physical manifestation of what the last few days felt like. Everything in their home was gone. Everything they had was lost. She wasn't sure what she was going to do next.

The acrid smell of burnt plastic filled her nose. She was just glad her brother Brett wasn't there to see this. He was safe and hopefully didn't know all his things were on fire. She was glad she wasn't going to have to be the one to tell him his collection of video games was gone. He was going to flip out.

The small hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It wasn't just the fire that had her edgy. Someone was watching her. She turned slowly. It felt like she was moving through honey. He was watching her. She had seen him before. He had dark hair speckled with gray, a perfectly trimmed goatee, and aviator sunglasses. There was a distinctive scar across his right cheek that stood out pale against his tan skin.

The world went cold. Her breathing came fast and uneven. She felt like a rabbit cornered by a wolf. She wasn't safe here.

He made sure she knew he saw her. He made sure she saw him point to the fire and then at himself. Then he pointed at her. A slow, cruel smile moved across his face.

And suddenly, he was gone. He was smoke in the wind.

But the hateful smile remained in her mind.

* * *

Bonnie awoke panting with fear. In the dark, she couldn't remember where she was. Nothing was familiar. She wasn't in her room at home. She reached for her phone and knocked it to the floor. It was so dark she couldn't see her hand in front of her face as she scrambled down to find it. She dropped to the floor, her knees cold against the short carpet as her fingers searched and finally found the plastic case.

Her phone screen glowed blue in the night, illuminating the plain bed and nightstand. Memory flooded back to her as she sagged against the bed. She was still safe. She was at the ranch. The fire was just a nightmare. The man, he was real, but he wasn't here.

Bonnie sucked in a jagged breath and forced herself to take another. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could still see that smile promising death.

It took a good minute of focusing only on breathing to calm down. She concentrated on the feel of the firm carpet beneath her fingers and the sound of crickets outside her window. Finally, her heart rate slowed from outrunning death to just an intense cardio workout.

She wasn’t there any more, in front of that burning house. Now, she was here, in this idyllic mountain town. They didn't know where she'd gone, and she was determined to keep it that way. She was going to keep her brother safe.

The room was now a pale gray, and she could make out the details on the dresser. She stood up and stretched, feeling her tight muscles complain and then relax. She didn't want to go back to sleep. She wanted to get to work and have something to keep her mind off things, but work didn't start for another two hours.

Instead, she went and put on her running shoes and workout clothes. If she couldn't work, she could go for a run. She could focus on music and run the crazy off. She was already covered in sweat, so she was going to need a shower before work anyway.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror over her dresser and didn't recognize the woman standing there. The hair was shorter and darker. She'd made sure to change up her appearance to make it harder to spot her in a crowd.

“Might as well burn the calories,” she told herself as she bent over and laced up her shoes. She stepped out into the crisp morning air and took a deep breath. It smelled of clean pine and morning dew. The fire was becoming a memory again. She put her music on speaker and started to run along the path to the barn.

With every step, the fire faded from her mind, and she let the mountains give her peace.