Nick

The sound of metal being stricken by another solid object startled me awake.

I darted from our tent to find Roz plucking pieces of ravioli from the dirt. Glancing around, it was easy to see she’d accidentally dropped the pot with her dinner in it. It landed on the log we dragged over for seating. The food and pot were still steaming, so I guessed she might have burned herself and somehow knocked it over.

“Sorry, I woke you,” she apologized. “I was heating it up when my stomach started churning again and, when I came back, it was smoking, and I wanted to catch it before it burned, but …”

She stopped speaking as I stooped to help, eying the wasted food where it lie in the dirt. I guessed she had a similar thought to mine, that we couldn’t exactly afford to waste anything.

“I’ll take it to the stream and rinse it. I don’t mind eating it without the sauce,” she mumbled.

I looked her over, the weariness in her eyes, the way she held her stomach while she cleaned up her mess.

“Still not feeling any better?”

She shook her head. “Been up half the night tossing my cookies,” she scoffed. “I thought I was better, which was why I was trying to eat, but … the smell got to me and … long story short … there may or may not be vomit behind that tree.”

I glanced that way, making a note not to venture in that direction.

She grabbed the last of the ravioli and placed it in the pot with the rest. With a heavy sigh, she took a few steps away from camp.

“Where are you going? Shouldn’t you be lying down?” I asked. She was so weak she could hardly walk upright.

“I need to rinse this. We don’t have anything to waste.”

She was right about that, but I wouldn’t let her walk all that way.

“Here, I’ll do it. Just go back in the tent and get some rest. I think we still have a can of soup. When you’re ready, I’ll make it for you,” I offered, deciding the sauce-less, dirt-bathed ravioli would have to be mine. There was no way she’d keep down anything solid.

Reluctantly, Roz nodded, handing over the pot.

“Be back in a bit.”

I trudged through the low brush and twigs that marked our path to the stream. I had no idea how to take care of a sick person, but would do my best to make Roz comfortable until it passed. Before now, I didn’t even realize a supernatural could get sick.

Apparently, I was wrong.

Dipping the stuffed noodles in the water, I covered the pot with my hand to strain it. Two more times and it was good enough for me. Back at camp, I’d reheat them and they’d be good as new.

Well … kind of.

On the walk back, I had time to think, time to reflect on the discovery I made the night before. It was still unsettling that there were no answers, and that my only option was to accept it.

Accept that I’d be a killer.

Accept that who I was becoming—the thoughtless, selfish guy who’d willingly seek to end another life—was who I’d be from here on out.

Once, my biggest gripe in life was that no one understood me, that my future in college football was mapped out for me. What I’d give to have it all be that simple now. What I’d give to go back to having petty, teenage problems that could be solved with a simple conversation.

If I’d known then how easy I had it, you couldn’t have paid me to complain.

Our tent came into view and I had a fleeting thought; that now would be a great time to go over Roz’s head to contact her father. She wasn’t doing well out here. It’d be easy to tell him where we were, and he could come for her. While I was sure it would take a while for her to forgive me, it’d be worth it to know she was safe.

I dropped down onto the log again and stared at the trees because there was nothing else to stare at. If starvation didn’t kill us, boredom would. And now, with Roz down, I had no one to talk to either. Going back to my grandfather’s journals was out of the question, for a while anyway. Within them was reality—my reality—and I didn’t feel like facing that just yet. I needed a break from it all.

I’d just gotten settled when the tent unzipped behind me. Roz came tearing out of it with a hand tightly clasped to her mouth. She made it to a tree a little further out than the last and I turned my head, not wanting to see whatever she barfed up.

Seemed she was getting worse.

And there was nothing I could do about it.

I turned. The tree had her mostly hidden, but I saw enough to deduce she was weak, resting her weight against the massive trunk for support. She couldn’t keep going like this. Especially seeing as how she was only here because of me.

I glanced around at our sparse supplies and breathed deep before turning toward her again. What we had, versus what we needed, simply didn’t add up.

Each step looked like it drained her energy. When she got about halfway, I stood to walk her. Surprisingly, she accepted the help as I draped an arm around her shoulders, taking on her weight. We said nothing, probably quiet for two different reasons.

Her—sickness.

Me—guilt.

Holding the flap of the tent, I watched Roz ease inside. She just about collapsed on her sleeping bag the second she reached it. I glanced back at the log I just stood from, and then at the frail girl who could barely walk on her own.

I abandoned the log and laid beside my friend.

I wasn’t cold, so only rested on top of my pallet right beside Roz’s. I was wide awake and felt fine, but didn’t want her to be alone. Would she have minded the solitude? Probably not, but still. My presence was about the only thing I had to offer.

“Everything hurts,” she moaned.

I turned toward her, resting on my side now as I took note of her labored breathing.

“I thought we were invincible.” This time, I was pretty sure she meant it as a joke, but there was little to no inflection to her voice. I guessed it would’ve taken too much energy.

“Is there anything I can do?” It seemed like a silly question, seeing as how she knew resources were limited.

Her brown hair shifted when she shook her head. “No,” she sighed. “I just wanna lie here.”

She reached to cover her shoulder when a breeze penetrated the thin material of the tent. But I beat her to it, pulling the edge of the sleeping bag to her neck. Only, my hand didn’t move. I left it lingering there on her arm long after I should’ve moved it. She was completely still, like she wasn’t even breathing anymore as the contact seemed to resonate with us both. Reluctantly, I pulled away, folding my arms across my chest.

“You, uh … you think it’s the flu?” I stammered, hoping she didn’t read too much into that last gesture—me touching her for too long.

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve got a fever, though.”

I started to touch her forehead, but thought better of it. It was probably for the best that I kept my hands to myself.

“Just get some rest,” I suggested. That was always my mom’s solution when I didn’t feel well, and it seemed to help.

Roz nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay, but don’t let me sleep all day. I hate that because it throws off my schedule.”

Smiling a bit, I agreed. Seemed silly to worry about keeping to a schedule out here in the middle of nowhere.

“I’ll wake you in a couple hours,” I promised.

With that, she settled her head against the bundle of clothes that took the place of a pillow, and I watched over her while she slept.

Well … for half an hour, at least.

The moment she started snoring, I took off, leaving our camp to prove something to myself.

That I’m not a terrible person.

That I was still capable of making good decisions.

That I still knew right from wrong.

The trek out of the woods was only easy because of my abilities. I was quicker on my feet than the average person, able to leap over fallen trees and stray stones instead of tripping over them.

The clean lines of rooftops came into view quicker than expected, but I was glad for it. The faster I could do this, the sooner I could get back to Roz. If she woke up to find that I’d left, she might panic, and in her condition, she didn’t need to get worked up about anything. So, the plan was to get into town, do what I had to do, and then get back.

I caught the eye of every local I passed. They stared like I was some feral caveman who’d just emerged from the woods.

Actually … I could totally see why they’d think that.

I wasn’t filthy, but definitely looked like I’d been sleeping outdoors for some time. My hair was a mess and I hadn’t shaved since we left the motel. Bypassing their dirty looks, I thanked my lucky stars this town was stuck in the dark ages when not everyone had cell phones and tablets for communication. It meant some still used payphones, and I was glad for it.

Holding the receiver to my ear, I panted while searching my pockets for change I knew I wouldn’t find there. If I’d overthought this trip, I probably wouldn’t have made it, which was why, when the thought hit me, I just left—not worrying about the fact that Roz shouldn’t be alone, not worrying about the fact that I had zero money.

I just needed to get here.

“Here you go, son,” A white-haired man said as he dropped fifty cents into my palm. He must have seen me tugging at my empty pockets.

“Thank you, sir,” I barely got out, scrambling to get the change into the machine. Then, I dialed a number from memory, one I only knew because, as a firefighter, Richie was all about safety and had stuck a magnet to the fridge years ago. Apparently, it stuck with me.

“Seaton Falls Police Department,” the woman answered.

Bracing an arm against the ridge of the rectangular phone box, I breathed wildly, praying this was the right thing to do.

“Officer Chadwick, please.”

God, please let him be available.

I had no other number to reach him. No more money to try again.

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“Nicholas Stokes.”

When the woman said nothing, I got the distinct feeling she knew exactly who I was, which meant she was likely a lycan and had heard of the things I’d done. The Council made it a point to place lycans in high places should there ever be a need for a cover up or to protect our secret. My grandfather’s journals went into great detail about it. The lycan government was far more organized, ran far deeper than anyone might have thought.

“One moment, please,” the woman said, her tone short and cold this time.

At least I knew my name was at least as tarnished as I already believed.

“Yes? Hello?” Officer Chadwick answered in a rush. It became abundantly clear he’d been on edge since his daughter went missing. I was sure hearing from me made him assume the worst—that something had happened to Roz and she was unable to call.

I guess that kind of was the case.

“Is she okay?” was the next question that flew from his mouth, letting me know I assumed right.

“She is,” I blurted, forcing myself to be a man despite how easy it would have been to cower, to slink back into the woods and hide from the world. Hide from him. Hide from my problems.

Only … I couldn’t.

Because this wasn’t about me.

“Roz doesn’t know I’m calling you,” I shared. “She’d probably kill me if she knew, actually.”

There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end of the line as Officer Chadwick’s mood shifted from concerned to angry. Most likely just at the sound of my voice—the kid responsible for his daughter running off without so much as an explanation as to why.

The best course of action was to get straight to my point.

“She needs to be home,” I forced out.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he scoffed. “Only, she seems to be under the impression that she can’t come home because of your mess.”

That stung a bit, hearing those bitter words slide off his tongue, knowing I could never make this right. Probably not with anyone.

I bridled the guilt that crept in and stayed the course. “I know you want her back in Seaton Falls and I want to help.”

Silence.

Several seconds later, Officer Chadwick’s voice returned to the line and he seemed calmer now, less ready to rip my head from my shoulders.

“What’s your plan?”

I closed my eyes and breathed deep. “I was thinking that, if you get her a ticket, I can make sure she gets to the bus.”

I heard his computer boot in the background.

“I’ll need to know where you are, so I can access the nearest bus station online.” He mashed keys on his keyboard quickly as I assumed he was logging in. “And you really think you can get her to come back.”

My chest throbbed when I thought of what it might cost me to convince her, but it had to be done. She needed a doctor. She needed her bed. She needed her dad. I simply couldn’t take care of her the way she needed to be. Especially while she was so sick.

“I’m sure,” I sighed.

He typed some more, and I prepared my mind to give him our location—the one thing that had kept me from being tossed back in a cell … or worse.

“So,” Officer Chadwick went on. “Where are you two?”

I breathed deep and gave him the name of the town. “Brandonburg, Louisiana.”

He typed at light speed again, not saying a word as he searched for the station, I guessed. There was more to this, the hardest part, but it took a moment to get up the nerve to say it. However, I had to. It was the only way I could guarantee Roz would go.

So, as quickly as I could, before my nerves got the best of me, I blurted it. “Sir … please make that … two tickets. The only way Roz will go home is if I go back, too.”

He was quiet and I knew it had nothing to do with not wanting to cover my fare. If I had to guess, he knew only trouble awaited me if I went back to Seaton Falls.

Which also meant he most likely knew I wouldn’t have done this for just anyone.

His daughter was important to me.

“Consider it done,” he finally stated.

And … just like that, I sealed my own fate.