Firebolt(2)

The lights of a vehicle in the upcoming lane shone directly into my face. I shut my eyes, waiting for it to disappear. When I was little, I used to watch Dad as we drove away from yet another house. He would glare into his rearview mirror every five seconds, every muscle in his face clenched, and his knuckles white on the steering wheel. I hadn’t been able to force myself to peek out the window then, as it used to scare the living crap out of me to consider the possible reasons he was fleeing from, or who might be following us. Now, I didn't look at him or care much for what he was going through. He created this problem. With me becoming the luggage. It was a ritual I endured every three months, and nothing over the past sixteen years had ever changed that.

The “Interstate 40” sign flew by in a whirl, and the pickup slowly moved onto the turnoff lane.

My eyes started to burn as I stared at the rain running down my window. Each rivet resembled another town, another place I could never again call home. Exhaustion consumed me and my eyelids felt heavy. I laid my head against the window and struggled to stay awake.

Suddenly, a huge figure flew past me. Dad swerved to the left, which made me crushed into the side of him. My entire body pumped with adrenaline. I jumped straight in my seat and wrenched the seatbelt over my shoulder to buckle myself in. I tore out my earphones as I tried to process what had just happened.

“What was that?” I looked at Dad.

He kept gazing every five seconds in his rearview mirror with huge eyes. Beads of sweat rolled from his hairline down to the side of his temple. He was terrified, something that conflicted with his personality. I’d never seen Dad look that scared in my entire life.

“Dad!”

“Did you see where it went?” he asked, attempting to inject calm into his voice, but I could hear the fear lacing each syllable.

“See where what went? Dad what was that!”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

“For once in your life, just tell me!” I screamed. Sixteen years of frustration exploded from my lungs. I couldn't take the unknown anymore.

“Fine.” He mumbled something else that I didn't catch. “Do you remember the stories I used to tell you?”

“Stories? What stories?”

“The ones about Paegeia, Elena.” He looked in his rearview mirror again with huge, unblinking eyes.

Vaguely, but I didn't tell him that. “What does that have to do with this?”

“They're real.”

I froze and I stared at him.

“All of it, it’s real. The dragons, the magic, the wall, everything is real.”

“Dad, dragons...” I took a deep breath. Dragons didn't exist, but then the image of the huge thing that had flown past me a couple of seconds ago sprang into my head. “You mean that thing was a dragon?”

He nodded, and looked over his shoulder.

A figure with huge paws and talons flew in front of the truck. Tires screeched the same time I shrieked. The car spun around on the turf a couple of times and came to a standstill on the dark stretch of road. My heart jumped at a great speed inside my chest. My throat and lips became dry.

Pushing my face against the cool glass of the passenger window, I searched the horizon for any sign of life. Apart from the pickup’s headlights, there wasn’t a single light peeking through the blanketed darkness, and the rain crushing down made me see figures I didn’t know were real or imagined. Dragons don’t exist.

“You okay?” my father yelled.

“I'm fine.” I tore my eyes away from the window.

“Elena, I need to get out─”

“No, no, please don't leave me here!” I could feel the fear beginning to rise up again and my vision became blurry. Why am I afraid? Dragons aren’t real.

He cupped my face and made me look at him, his hands trembling. “Listen to me, Elena. Listen!”

I tried to swallow my tears, but it was no use. They were caught in the back of my throat, silencing me as he said his goodbye.

He hugged me tight and kissed me on my forehead. I could feel the love he had for me behind that kiss.

“You drive like hell, you hear me? Don't slow down for anybody. There's a motel on Interstate 40. Just stay on this road, you can't miss it. Someone named Matt will meet you there.”

“For the love of blueberries Dad, it's pouring dogs and horses outside. I can't leave you here with whatever...” We can rationally sort this out.

Dad cringed and looked down for a minute. When he looked at me again, that set to his jaw was back. I knew my words hadn’t made an impact on him whatsoever. He had already made up his mind for the both of us.

My strength returned as I slowly came to terms with what I had to do.