2
We slept, and the next day found us on the bumpy road on our way to the border town. At midday, just as Stevens predicted, our road veered to the west and we glimpsed a town beyond the patches of trees and fields. We were two miles from the edge of civilization when Luke moved to stand behind the cab.
“Stop here,” he told Rick.
“Why? I need to gas up my truck,” Rick reminded him.
“The greater our numbers the more likely we will be noticed, so most of us should remain at the truck while the others fetch gas, food, and news,” Luke pointed out.
“I will be that number to go. These are my people, after all,” Stevens spoke up.
“That is precisely why you must remain here,” Luke countered. “They will recognize you and if there are spies they will alert Lance where we are and from what direction we’re approaching the border.” Stevens scowled, but didn’t argue. “Becky and I will go to the town and get what we need. If we don’t return by nightfall then sneak into the town and get what supplies you need. Don’t try to search for us, just continue onward to the border and try to find the facility,” he instructed them.
“All right, but try not to get yourselves into too much trouble so we don’t have to be leaving you behind,” Rick advised.
Luke smiled and jumped over the side of the truck onto the ground. “We’ll try,” he promised.
I jumped down beside him and, armed with only our wits, a short list of supplies and some money, we made our way to the town. It was a medium-sized town, population more-than-you-could-shake-a-stick-at. There were a couple of streets of commercial buildings, and cars zoomed past us filled with people on their lunch break or shopping. We had our choice of gas stations and would fetch the gas on the way out of town, but first we needed food.
Luke and I went to the local grocery and outside were a couple of newspaper stands, the ones where you insert quarter and out spits the dead tree with ink on it. I happened to glance at one of the headlines because, well, they’re meant to attract attention. It read ‘STEVENS STILL MISSING. LORD LAUGHTON SOUGHT IN DISAPPEARANCE.’ I froze and reread the words, then grabbed Luke by the sleeve before he walked into the store.
“We might have a problem,” I told him as I gestured to the paper.
He paused and read the headlines, then bought a paper and read over the contents. “This is not unexpected,” he murmured.
“What isn’t unexpected?” I asked him as I tried to peer over his shoulder at the article.
He folded the paper and frowned. “It seems Lance is claiming Stevens has been kidnapped, and we are to blame,” he revealed.
“What?” I yelped.
Luke slapped a hand over my mouth and looked around us. Nobody noticed my strange outburst and his strange reaction. “We mustn’t attract attention,” he instructed me.
I tore his hand off and pointed at the papers. On the front page, below the bold headline, was a picture of him beside a picture of Stevens. “How are we not going to attract attention?” I argued.
Luke stuffed the list in my hands and glanced down the road at the gas station far down the block. “I can fetch the gas, but you must get us food,” he told me.
I sighed and glanced down at the short list. “All right, but if I’m arrested try not to kill too many people getting me out,” I replied.
He grinned. “I will try,” he promised.
I had a feeling his promises were like those of a politician; they had an expiration date. However I felt, the money was split between us and I casually sauntered into the grocery store. There was the usual office workers buying their food at the deli, and the older women gossiping in the aisles. I was in the bread aisle when I overheard Stevens’ name in a conversation between two older women, so I slunk closer pretending to look for a cheese-stuffed bagel, though if I found one I probably would have bought it.
“And they still haven’t caught his kidnappers?” one of the women asked the other.
The other shook her head. “No, but they say they headed out of town south in this direction, so you’d better keep your windows locked, Almira,” she scolded her friend.
Almira riled at the thought. “I have never locked my windows and I don’t plan on locking them now. I can smell a burglar a mile away and don’t need locked windows to keep him out.”
“But they say these werewolves are hiding their scent,” the other woman added.
Almira turned her nose up and sniffed in derision. “Hiding a scent? That’s impossible, Darla, and you know it.”
Darla shrugged. “I just know what everyone’s saying, and everyone’s pretty scared about what someone like that can do. They could sneak into your house and cut your throat without you ever knowing they were in the yard.”
Almira shuddered and waved her hand at her friend. “That’s enough, Darla. You’re just spreading rumors now.”
Darla frowned. “I know what I heard, and one of my sources is the Old One out on Cherry Lane. You know just as well as I that what she says is true, or usually is.”
“Usually means she’s sometimes wrong, and I think she’s wrong about this,” Almira insisted.
“Well, I know she wasn’t wrong about that big place being just on the other side of the region border,” Darla countered. “My old man went hunting around there the other day in the swamp forest and met a couple of unfriendly fellows who told him in no unfriendly terms to get, and he got out of there real quick. And you know what else he told me about them?”
Almira raised an eyebrow. “No, what?” she wondered.
“He said one of the fellows didn’t have a scent. Not a single whiff of anything off him. Of course, my old man didn’t mention that to them, but when he came back he was real shook up about it, and he hasn’t gone hunting in those forests since.”
“Excuse me,” I spoke up. The two women turned towards me and I smiled at them. “But I was wondering where Cherry Lane was.”
Almira looked me over and pursed her lips. “It’s just outside town and to the east. You can’t miss the sign,” she replied.
“Thanks.” I hurried off, finished the list, and rushed outside to the gas station. Luke stood outside the convenience store with a shiny container full of gas. He was relieved to see me.
“You are a very slow shopper,” he scolded me.
I shrugged. “I’m a girl, I have to look at everything,” I returned. “Besides, I was listening to these two old women talk, and they said something about someone on a Cherry Lane knowing about a place beyond the region border that was patrolled by people who didn’t have a scent.”
Luke smiled and gave a quick peck on my lips. Tease. “You surprise me more and more,” he told me.
“That better be a compliment,” I scolded him.
“Most assuredly. Now we had better leave for this Cherry Lane and have a talk with this someone. Do you know their name?” he asked me.
“They said she was called Old Woman. I figure we can recognize someone with that kind of a name,” I replied.
“It won’t hurt to try, and we are practically assured some information for our trouble,” he pointed out. We hurried back to the truck with our stash and found the others anxiously awaiting our return.
“What took you?” Stevens barked at us.
“Information. We learned I am being accused of your kidnapping,” Luke revealed.
Stevens sneered. “What a preposterous notion that you could kidnap me,” he argued.
“Nonetheless the papers are shouting it to the world, but we may have some hope. We must head eastward onto a Cherry Lane,” Luke replied.
“Eastward? But that won’t take us any closer to the border,” he pointed out.
“Correct, but it may take us closer to finding the facility,” Luke countered.
We filled the tank of the vehicle, jumped into the back of the truck, and drove into the town. Luke kept himself below the truck and Stevens ducked down, squished between the seat and Steve’s legs. We passed by the houses and smooth roads, and soon found ourselves back on the bumpy dirt roads of the countryside. Calling the road a lane was being kind. It was more like ruined architecture than pretty, delicious cherries.
After about ten miles the lane ran out and we found ourselves facing a large, old-fashioned two-floor farmhouse with a lot that served as the turnaround for the dead-end road. On the porch, shielded from the fall sun, was a woman of such age that I wondered if she’d invented the rocker on which she sat. She stopped her rocking when Rick stopped the truck near the porch, and Luke jumped out the back and I followed. Stevens gladly popped up and shoved Steve out so he could climb out of the cab while Rick got out his side. The four of us walked up to the old mother who looked at us with old but cunning and curious eyes.
Stevens pushed himself to the head of our little group and put on his most pompous face. “Good day, old mother. We are in need of your help.”
She turned her head to the side without moving her eyes off us and spit onto the ground. “What fer?” she asked us.
“For the good of our region,” Stevens replied.
The woman scoffed. “What’s that mean to me?” she snapped.