On The Run (The Moriya Chronicles: Book 1)

ON THE RUN

(The Moriya Chronicles: Book 1)

I-Lanaa Twine

Published by I-Lanaa Twine

Smashwords Edition

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Copyright © I-Lanaa Twine, 2014

eBook formatting: Guido Henkel

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to real persons, either living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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DEDICATION

I would like to dedicate this book to my amazing parents, my awesome family, and all the wonderful people who have supported me during this incredible journey!

PROLOGUE

Meiying pushed strands of jet-black hair out of her face and glanced at her watch with a frown. It was getting late. Very late. The wind seemed to scold her as it angrily collided with the windowpane, desperate to remind her that the storm was rapidly approaching. At any moment, she would be receiving a concerned text message from her husband, Keith, curious about her whereabouts. Nevertheless, her attention was drawn back to the computer screen. Just a few finishing touches and the story would be complete. But this wasn’t just any story—it was the story. The one she had poured her heart and soul into. The one she was born to write. This piece had the potential to validate her talent, and catapult her career from obscurity. Not a comma could be out of place.

The torrential rain began battering the rooftop as her thin fingers dashed across the keyboard. As if on cue, Meiying felt a deep vibration in her pants pocket, and she reluctantly peeled her wide dark-brown eyes away from the computer screen to glance at her phone.

Storm’s picking up. You almost home?

Guilt swept her instantly. She had been laboring so diligently to birth this piece that her husband had seen very little of her of late. But Keith hardly complained. In fact, he was so understanding that she sometimes felt she didn’t deserve him.

She had made him a promise that as soon as this story was complete, she was taking some much-needed time off, and it was a promise she intended to keep. Which explained why she was toiling away at the office, on the eve of a nasty storm, endeavoring to finalize the exposé before her 4:00 a.m. deadline. The wind shrieked and writhed in pain as it violently crashed against the walls of the building. She scanned the screen for the final time, all the while holding her breath, and then she pressed the send button.

That was it. It was done. She had never worked so hard on anything in her entire life. Although she was certain it was the best work she had ever done, doubt still lingered at the edge of her thoughts. Would the fruits of her labor prove rewarding? Or would they yield nothing more than a barren wasteland?

A crack of thunder jolted her from her stupor. She reached for her phone.

It’s finally done, dear. I’m leaving now.

With a sigh, she shut down her computer and began clearing off her desk. Suddenly, she heard a thunderous BOOM that seemed to resonate throughout the building. Was it thunder? Or debris, perhaps? Either way, it was her cue to leave.

As she packed up her things, she heard the deafening BOOM again. This time, however, it sounded as if it were coming from behind the building. Shrugging off the racket, she grabbed her bag, and wrapped her large, black coat around her tiny frame. She made sure to pull the hood up to shield her face from the assaulting wind that was sure to be lurking in the darkness. Sure enough, the moment she opened the back door, it walloped her with a vicious intensity.

Uncertainly, Meiying scanned the darkness. Why could she never remember to move her car to the front of the building when she suspected she would be working late? Her boss had reprimanded her more times than she could count, and she hated every second of the treacherous trek to her car in the poorly lit, isolated parking lot littered with large Dumpsters that cast daunting shadows. Stepping outside, she felt her pulse quicken as the wrathful wind lashed the hood off her head and whipped her pin-straight hair into her eyes. Blindly, she used her strength to shut the back door and fumbled for the key. As she turned the lock to secure it, she was startled by another BANG.

Meiying anxiously craned her neck in both directions, but the cold rain that pelted her face relentlessly obscured her vision. Instinctively, she wrapped her hand around the small bottle of pepper spray she kept in her coat pocket. Another BANG. Clamorous and insistent, it made her jump, and this time she was sure it had come from a Dumpster that lined the back wall of the building, about thirty feet away.

Hello? she asked, her voice trembling. But only the rain answered her cries.

And then, BOOM. Meiying’s scream pierced the night for just a moment before she slammed her hand over her mouth to muffle her cry. She tried to remain calm, but fear sliced through her resolve. Out the corner of her right eye, she saw something whiz past her, and she whipped around, brandishing her bottle of pepper spray, only to discover that it was a large branch that had been ripped from a nearby tree. Letting out a sigh of relief, she wrapped her sopping wet jacket tighter around her body and inched closer to the Dumpster. She wanted to make a run for it, sprint to her car and jump inside, but tenacity anchored her feet to the ground. She had not come this far in life by cowering in fear when faced with the unknown.

Meiying willed herself to creep closer to the Dumpster. She heard the loud thump again, but this time she did not falter. She could just make out something, bright and radiant, sticking out under the closed lid of the Dumpster. Could it be? It looked like…‌feathers. Cautiously, she edged closer, closer, and now she could see them clearly. Brilliant golden-brown feathers. They were huge and iridescent, shimmering like liquid gold. Another bang. Meiying wasn’t sure how a bird had gotten trapped in this Dumpster, but it was desperately trying to make its way out.

Without thinking, she reached out to open the lid, but she froze when her hand sank into a warm, sticky substance. Blood. Now that she was up close, she could see it splattered on the concrete, dripping from the outside of the Dumpster, and lining the rim of the container. Wavering, she took a cautious step backward. She wanted to help, but didn’t want the injured animal to feel threatened by her approach. Suddenly, the lid burst open and the creature sprang from the bowels of its prison, cawing boisterously.

It was a monstrosity! The pounding force of its ascending wing-beats sent Meiying crashing toward the ground. Frantically, she scrambled on all fours, scampering across the ground fifteen, ten, now five feet away from her car. Though her heart threatened to rip its way out of her chest with its frenetic pounding, something made her whip her head around. The beast’s hysterical exclamations had at first equaled and now surpassed hers. Even under the cloak of darkness, she could see that the gargantuan creature clambered to rise into the sky, struggling to stay airborne, as violent flashes of gilded feathers filled the night. It bucked and fought to escape into the clouds, but about twenty feet up the creature succumbed to exhaustion, dive-bombing toward the ground with a seismic thud that sent ripples thundering through the cement beneath her.

Meiying heard screaming for about fifteen seconds before she realized that it was her own voice being drowned out by the howling wind. Her heart throbbed so violently in her throat that she thought she might throw it up with the rest of the contents of her stomach. Part of her wanted to run away and never look back, but she pushed that cowardly thought to the farthest reaches of her mind and allowed the journalist in her to take over. The part of her that made her want to go where others wouldn’t dare, explore the unknown, and uncover the truth made her swallow her fear, and her vomitus, and slowly, slowly, crawl toward it.

The murky light shining from the flickering lamppost above allowed her to catch a glimpse of the creature. And a glimpse was all she needed. Even in obscurity, it was breathtaking. The creature’s hindquarters were that of a lion: massive, yet agile, ending in two huge paws, each equipped with soft pads and dagger-sharp retractable claws. Beautiful tawny fur lined the thick, sculpted muscles of its posterior limbs, stretching all the way down its long, limber tail with chocolaty tufts of hair protruding from the tasseled tip. Its torso was that of an eagle. Downy amber feathers coated its breast and shoulders, and from its large aquiline head protruded a gilded, razor-sharp, sickled beak. Its forelegs were peppered with plumage that halted three-quarters of the way down and gave way to horny, plate-like scales that lined its muscular legs and its feet. Sharp, ebony talons nearly a half a foot long sprouted from its long, mustard toes. Erupting from its shoulders were massive eagle-like wings, which could easily span two dozen feet. Meiying tried to process all of its grandeur at once. It was impossible.

Crawling closer, and closer still, she ever so slowly reached out a quivering hand. Did she dare touch it? The creature didn’t stir. The smooth feathers of its upper body seemed to repel the water, but its posterior feline coat was soaked, and the creature appeared to shiver involuntarily. Without thinking, Meiying removed her sodden coat and covered as much of the beast as she could. She searched for the source of the blood and found several wounds on its hind legs, its paw and tail, and a profound gash in its abdomen. The rain continued to pour down upon them, but Meiying removed her sweater and applied pressure to the gaping wound, attempting to quiet the coursing blood flow. She was examining a tattered, bloody piece of wing when she saw two sharp red eyes pierce her skin.

Meiying stopped dead in her tracks. She was trembling frantically, unsure of whether it was frigidity or fear that rattled her bones. The creature lifted up its massive head to look her over, swallowing her whole with its hungry eyes. As the creature probed deeper, Meiying felt an unexplainable presence permeate the edges of her mind. Suddenly, she felt an inexplicable compulsion to help the celestial beast, in any way possible, even if interfering meant endangering her own life. The wind howled like a banshee, the rain battered her ruthlessly, and yet she could not flee. All her thoughts were of it.

Please, I-I mean you no harm. You’re wounded and losing a lot of blood. I want to help you. P-please, come inside.

She pointed toward the back door of the building, certain her voice trembled as much as her fingers did. After grating her flesh with one last hot crimson glare, the creature attempted to stand but collapsed. It tried again, and again, and again, and was finally able to get to its feet and slowly teeter its way into the building.

It had been difficult to watch. With every move the creature made, Meiying could see pain explode all over its body. It was now collapsed on the floor of the newspaper’s headquarters, and Meiying had run around frantically, collecting whatever she thought might be useful. Rags, blankets, a bucket filled with tepid water, and the entire contents of the first-aid kit now littered the office floor. As the creature’s eyes rolled around in the back of its skull, Meiying tried to assess the entirety of the damage it had sustained. It had a torn wing, gashes all over its right hind and foreleg, and cuts on the bottom of both paws, but a majority of the blood was coming from the huge hole in its abdomen. It also had deep bite marks on its back and neck and around its rib cage. The tissue surrounding the punctures was black and charred, encircled by huge boils that oozed pus and smelled of rot and decay.

The creature’s entire body was on fire. Meiying attempted to clean and bandage some of its wounds and used damp rags to keep its skin cool. Despite her efforts, she could do little to break the fever, and the creature drifted in and out of consciousness. While the beast was unconscious, Meiying’s mind seemed to be her own again. She had a thousand and one ideas flowing through her head, but first she had to make sure the creature survived.

Thank you for your kindness.

Startled, Meiying spun around, frantically searching for the owner of the voice. She was alone in the room, except for the beast. Had she imagined it? Once again she could sense a presence entering her mind. A face filled her head. Baffled, she turned around to face the creature. It was his face.

Please, do not be frightened. I did not mean to alarm you.

Gasping, Meiying once again felt the scarlet eyes of the creature bore through her skin. He was communicating with her, through her mind. Astonished, it took her a moment to find her voice.

W-who are you?

I am Commanding officer Orith of the Veruvu squadron, but you may call me Urkles.

Are you some sort of experiment?

Far from it. I am one of the Ronin. In your tongue, Gryphon.

He showed her pictures, hundreds of pictures of creatures that looked just like him in an assortment of colors, shapes and sizes.

Meiying blinked twice, rubbing her dark chocolate eyes to make sure it was all real. Are you saying you’re some sort of…‌alien?

The creature seemed to chuckle in her mind.

If you are asking whether I am of this Earth, the answer is no. I am not. I am from the planet Rodanthia.

More pictures filled her head, this time of a lush expansive land, teaming to the brim with marvels taken directly from the pages of childhood fables. This was Rodanthia. Suddenly, a trickle of pain leaked into her mind, making her cringe.

Staring in horror at what was left of his mutilated body, she couldn’t help but ask, What happened to you?

I was on a mission with my men when we were ambushed. My crew was killed. Our ship crashed, too damaged to send a distress signal. I escaped narrowly, and then took solace here believing I would be safe, but I was pursued.

Images flashed through Meiying’s mind. She saw Urkles and his men on a massive ship. Although the ship was fully operational, the Ronin on board could control objects with their minds. So they piloted the ship telekinetically, to keep their efforts secret.

On this particular mission, they were searching the galaxies for an object of the utmost importance. Despite only the finest being chosen to take part in the mission, merely a handful of the crew had survived. Thankfully, they achieved their goal, but on their way back to Rodanthia, they were brutally attacked. They fought diligently but were greatly outnumbered. Their ship was destroyed, and with so few Ronin left to keep it in flight, it crashed on a nearby planet.

Urkles was the sole survivor. He used a portal on the planet to travel to Earth, assuming that he would not be pursued, because the planet had been declared neutral. Nevertheless, his assailants broke the treaty and pursued him here. When they finally found him, he barely escaped alive.

Who did this to you?

I was attacked by a Vossalear. The Moridan use them to track and hunt their prey. Their bite is poison. My death will come swiftly.

Meiying shook her head frantically as she tried to shield her mind from the horrible images that washed over it. Death? No, you can’t die! Please, let me help you.

There is no time. I weaken by the minute. Even as he said this, she could see how his breathing grew labored. His fiery eyes appeared near to burning out, and even his thundering voice inside her head seemed to dull.

There must be something I can do. Filled with compassion, she sank her hand into his moist fur, as a tear slid down her golden cheek.

Fear not, my friend. I do not fear death. You have already done more than I could ask, and for this, I thank you.

Sadness cloaked her heart, and caught in her throat. Then, what should I do?

You must run!

Suddenly, her thoughts turned dark as he splashed her mind with raw emotion. Blood red. Hot white. Death black. Shrieking and cringing, she cradled her head in her palms and rocked on her heels. It was too intense. The sentiment too strong, so pungent she could almost taste it.

You must run, Meiying. Run and hide. They will never stop. Hunting. Chasing. Even now as we speak they pursue me.

He barraged her with images of horror and violence.

The Vossalear do not tire. They do not sleep. They track. They destroy. They will find me. They will find you. Then they will do unthinkable things.

Cowering in a ball, she could no longer move as she retched onto the cold tile floor.

You must go! Now! RUN!

Then a rattled wheeze wracked her brain as sensations of pain licked the edges of her mind. RU—

The thought was suddenly cut short. Meiying lifted her head to see an agonizing spasm rack his mangled body as sputum painted his beak red, and then his head went slack.

Urkles’s words seemed to echo in Meiying’s head, bouncing off the walls and violently crashing into one another. She tried to call her husband over and over but figured the storm had left him with no service. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t leave him, but was terrified of what would happen if she remained. Moments later, Urkles came to, and her mind was not her own again. He peered at her through thin, red slits, his eyes darting wildly back and forth as confusion seemed to coat his thoughts. The pictures he projected into her mind were distorted and came in strange order. She could see the Dumpster outside. Then a picture of Urkles holding a small black pouch. She watched him peer inside the pouch, and a brilliant purple glow that dazzled like an LED Christmas light lit up her mind. Then she saw the inside of the Dumpster again. It was mostly empty, but in the farthest corner Meiying thought she could just make out the same small black pouch.

Take it. Take the Star.

The star?

It shall lead us from darkness.

What will lead us from darkness? What darkness?

Another image of the pouch entered her mind. Beads of sweat lined the feathers of his face as he began coughing up bright red blood. Meiying dipped a rag into a bucket of water and ran it across his body. It was no use. The fever, coupled with the poison, continued to render him incoherent.

You must take the Star. You must take the Code. You must run.

Code? Suddenly, numbers swam across her mind.

Take the Star. Take the Code. Run.

Take it where?

His breathing grew more and more strained as the deep gurgling of a death rattle overtook his lungs.

Please, Urkles, I don’t understand. A thousand pictures bombarded her mind at once as his words grew garbled, but insistent.

Dav-rius. Dav-rius. Gateway. Send message portal. Protection. Must find Protection. Give Star. Code. Protection. No one else. Run! Run! Run! Dav-rius. Gateway. Send message portal. Protection. Must find Protection. Give Star. Code. Protection. No one else. Run! Run! RUN!

As delirium caressed his mind, he repeated it over and over again. It made no more sense the fifth time than it had the first, and Meiying still did not understand what it was he wanted her to do. Urkles fought to remain conscious, and lost.

As soon as his presence left her mind, she felt a cloud lift from her thoughts. She had to act quickly, before he regained consciousness and bewitched her again. Meiying grabbed her phone and began recording. Everything she knew. Everything he had told her and shown her, most of which she could not grasp, and she captured a few shots of Urkles as well. She had her editor on speed dial. One click and the biggest discovery of the century, and the biggest story of her career, could be broadcast to the entire world. One press of the send button and her life would never be the same again.

She hesitated momentarily. Hadn’t this been what she had wanted only a few hours ago? Accolades? Recognition? Acceptance from her peers and, most importantly, from her parents? Her finger hovered above the touch screen. She was a journalist. This was what she lived for! It wasn’t just what she did—it was who she was!

And then, Meiying stopped. As she stared at the creature’s twisted, mutilated body, guilt tinged her cheeks red. Never in her life had she felt hesitant about divulging a story or exposing the truth, but this, this felt wrong. She had stumbled upon something sacred. The first secret worth protecting.

Meiying resolutely slammed her finger down on the send button. Keith was the only person she could trust with this information, and she knew without a doubt that when her husband received this message, he would protect it with his life. Then, without a second thought, Meiying dropped the phone into the large bucket of water that sat at her feet.

RUN!!

A speeding train of unbridled emotions, thoughts, and images ripped through her mind so quickly it knocked her to her feet. Meiying screamed as her brain was bombarded with a million things all at once. Like an empty canvas, she soaked up the vivid paint strokes that he speckled her mind with. Though the act seemed futile and frivolous at first, the paint strokes sprouted into illustrations, the illustrations flourished into a portrait, and the portrait blossomed into an illuminating mosaic that finally revealed the full picture. At last, she understood what Urkles was trying to tell her!

She had to tell Keith, or he would never understand! Cursing herself for destroying her cell phone, she moved toward her desk and reached for the phone, but a sudden blast of pain plastered her to the ground. Urkles’s visions wouldn’t stop, and as she looked up at him, she realized that he was no longer in control of them or his own body. He began to shake violently. As he twitched and writhed in pain, grotesque images gushed into her brain. White, frothy foam bubbled and steamed as it poured out of his mouth. Meiying shrieked as the images grew stronger and stronger, louder and louder.

As the illustrations penetrated the depths of her mind, body, and spirit, they became hostile and perverse. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t move. Urkles began convulsing wildly, jerking and twisting, shuddering and quaking like an active fault line. Meiying could smell, taste, feel, and hear his pain. Decay filled her nostrils. Bile coated her tongue. Waves of pain ripped through her body. The buzz of his feverish thoughts drowned out her own. His wounds began to fester and ooze pus and a green liquid that smelled of death and ruin.

Cradling her skull in her hands, Meiying wriggled and screeched in agony. A red sea of blood began pouring from his eyes, his nose, his ears, his mouth, as Meiying felt an excruciating shudder tear through her body. And then, just as quickly as it began, the pain seemed to ebb away, and was replaced by a euphoric warmth. A thick screen of darkness swept through her mind, taking every memory along with it, wiping it clean.

The last image that ran through her head was of a young girl, awaking breathlessly in the night, screaming one word.

"Mommy!"

The edges of her lips curled into a smile. Goodbye, she whispered.

Then, everything went black.

CHAPTER 1

Here we go again, I thought. Another new town. Another new school. Delilah Simpson. Delilah Simpson. I had to say it over and over in my head so it would stick.

Nervous? my dad asked, more out of habit than true concern. I had done this nearly a dozen times in the past three years. I was a pro, and we both knew it.

Nah, not at all, I replied.

It was relatively simple. I kept to myself. Tried not to stand out. Did well enough to skate by. And in a few months, I’d be on to the next one.

Well, this is you, kiddo, my dad said as we pulled up in front of Lakeland High School.

I glanced out the window at my new school and sighed. It was tall and brown with windows. You know, the usual.

I have four interviews today, back to back, but they should all be wrapped up ’bout noon. After that I’m gonna run some errands and follow some leads, but I should be right back here at 1:45 to pick you up, and hopefully I’ll have some good news.

I looked over at my father and tried to smile. He was always so optimistic. No matter what. When the chips are down, well you still have chips, right? Which means you’re still in the game! At least that’s what he would say. Every day I tried to mirror his confidence, but after a while it was exhausting.

Now don’t you worry, suga. Every thing’s gonna come together real soon. You’ll see. As he spoke, he peered at me through warm, dark-brown eyes and flashed me his reassuring smile. With just a glance, my father had the ability to make someone feel entirely at ease.

Okay, Daddy. I love you.

I love you too, baby girl. He leaned over and planted a kiss on each cheek. Most sixteen-year-old girls would probably cringe at even the thought of such humiliating displays of public affection, but not me. I savored every second, because in an instant it could all be taken away. Dragging the thick, oversized headphones that hung around my neck up to my ears, I stepped out of my father’s black sedan and shut the door firmly.

Here we go again, I said, this time aloud. And with a deep sigh, I slowly made my way toward the front doors of Lakeland High School.

The guidance counselor, Mrs. McFee, was humming and tapping her toe as she scanned the computer screen for my name. She reminded me of Ms. Frizzle from The Magic School Bus. She had a number-two pencil in her frizzy red hair, plump rosy cheeks, and green, round-rimmed glasses that sat just on the brim of her nose, and she wore a bright yellow sundress covered in pink and white flowers that reminded me of my late grandmother Bessie’s kitchen tablecloth.

Delilah Simpson. Delilah Simpson. Aah, here we go. I found you. Transfer student from Littleston Senior High School in Pennsylvania, and before that Anderson County High School in Kentucky. Wow, three schools in one year. What’s that been like?

I watched her wide, freckled face as surprise turned into suspicion. There were only a handful of reasons why a kid my age changed schools that often, and unless your parents were in the military, none of them were good. Luckily, I had my answer all set up. Well, my dad, he travels for work. When my mom was around, I would stay in one spot with her. But ever since the crash, well, he’s all I have now, so I prefer to stick with him.

I heard a sharp intake of breath. Oh, how—how awful, she said, pressing a set of chubby fingers to her chest. I am so sorry for your loss. You poor, poor thing. She reached for a Kleenex and lowered her glasses so she could dab the corners of her large green eyes. Losing a parent can be a difficult experience, at any age, but being that you’re so young, I can only imagine how hard this has been for you… As her words trailed off, she reached over her desk, grabbed my hand, and squeezed. If you ever need to talk, about anything at all, my door is always open.

She stopped and looked at me expectantly. As if she were awaiting the commencement of a therapy session I didn’t know I had signed up for. In fact, I could tell it took everything in her not to grab my face, press it to her bosom, and start cooing into my ear that everything would be okay.

After a few awkward moments, she shook her head, patted my hand twice, and then released me from her clutches. Well…‌I’m sure you’re anxious to get to your classes. New school, new start, right? Let me just print out your schedule, and you can be on your way. She jabbed at the computer keys, scooted over to the printer, and handed me my schedule with a beaming smile. You haven’t missed too much of first period. English Lit is on the third floor, on the left-hand side, fourth door down from the elevator. I sighed loudly as I rose. Just before I exited her office, I saw her motion toward her ears and then heard her shout, "Be sure to take those off your head before you enter class, dear. You wouldn’t want to make the wrong impression on your first day, right?" Rolling my eyes dramatically, I slammed my finger down on the play button of my iPod, and headed down the hallway.

The rest of the day carried on without a hitch. Most of the curriculum was material I was already familiar with, making it that much easier for me to maintain my inconspicuous B average. Sixth-period lunch was equally uneventful. Instead of enduring the awkwardness that is the high-school cafeteria, I popped a squat on the back lawn and had a private picnic for one.

At 1:45 my father was right on time to pick me up, punctual as ever. We rode home to our new apartment, chatting lightly about our respective days. Dad’s interviews had gone well, and he already had two second interviews lined up. He had also picked up groceries and had his car serviced. When he failed to reference the aforementioned lead, I figured it had been a dead end. Almost all of them were.

There wasn’t much about my day to share. High school is high school. You’ve seen one joy-sucking, individuality-killing, mindless-drone-making institution, and you’ve seen them all. When we finally got to the new apartment, I helped him unload the car and start putting away the groceries. The kitchen was tiny, just like the rest of the apartment. There was a fridge, a microwave above the stove, two cabinets below the sink, and a flimsy gray foldout table with two foldout chairs beside it. It overlooked the living room, which consisted of a meager black pullout couch, a cheap throw rug, a tiny coffee table, and a small TV anchored to the wall. The bedroom was next. Inside was a narrow twin bed, a compact wooden bureau, and the only closet space in the entire apartment. Across from the bedroom was the bathroom, which quite fittingly was miniscule as well. All in all, the apartment couldn’t be more than 350 square feet, and all the furniture had been left there by the prior occupants.

Why don’t you get washed up for supper, baby doll? I’m gonna cook up some spaghetti and meatballs. Then maybe we can have some of that vanilla ice cream I picked up at the store, curl up on the couch, and watch a movie. There he was, smiling again, putting those pearly whites on display.

Sounds great, Dad. I tried to muster up the strength to smile back, but I could barely get the edges of my mouth to budge. I tucked the last store-bought item, a can of sweet corn, into the whitewashed cupboard below the sink and walked into the tiny bathroom.

I took a deep breath. And another. Then one more. I tried to hold it in, I really did, but the moment I shut the bathroom door, it hit me all at once.

It was all just too much.

This teeny apartment. My father’s horrible cooking. His attempts to be upbeat about everything. And I do mean everything. His new job interview. The new school. A new lead. It was all bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. We were no closer to finding my mother then we had been three years ago.

I fingered the shower dial and twisted it on, before I slowly sank to the bathroom floor.

We had been all over this godforsaken country: Washington, Texas, New Mexico, Florida. Searching. Searching. For a clue, a hint, a shred of evidence. Something. Anything…‌that could lead us to her. Every time we packed up and went somewhere new, we either found nothing, or we were chased out. Hugging my knees against my chest, I shuddered. Chased was really the wrong word. We were being hunted.

They pursued us relentlessly. Night and day. Sometimes when I closed my eyes, I could hear their shrieks pierce the air, feel the heat of their breath upon us. We had never quite figured out how or why I could sense them. I suppose it didn’t matter anyway. For whatever