I march over to the sleek motorcycle parked on the curb. It's like a shiny black beetle on a dewy morning sitting under that street light. I focus all my attention on it, trying to calm myself from Sam pretty much shutting down. Essentially, refusing to discuss or admit anything to me. All these secrets are starting to aggravate me.
"I want you to tell me what happened while we were apart," Sam demands, following right behind. I didn't realize he was so close.
I rant in my head, 'Ha! Right, you want me to explain myself while you give me nothing, that's rich!' I spin around to face him, tipping my chin down in an expression that says just that.
He's aware but unphased by the gesture to his hypocrisy, "I know it wasn't anything good and I don't feel right about leaving you alone until I know you're safe. Is your maker threatening you?"
'My maker? Talk about jumping to conclusions.' Sam is always warning me about June and June is always warning me about… Everyone that isn't myself. I think they're both overly paranoid, they need to chill out.
As far as I'm concerned I'm not obligated to share. 'Not so great when it's you on the receiving end, is it Sam?'
I give him the cold shoulder with a petty shrug, "Luckily you don't have to worry about that. I can take care of myself."
He doesn't even twitch, only his eyes surge radioactive, taking one step closer. He's really not fooling around.
"What did this so-called reaper do?" he growls, wrinkling his nose out of some deep seeded hatred rather than a ploy to intimidate me. Still, that's a reaction I wasn't expecting.
"June didn't do anything," I protest.
He's visibly unconvinced. Man, is he ever being difficult tonight! I can't have him assuming the worst. I expose my face to the sky as if to ask it, 'Why can't *I* have any secrets?'
"Alright, something happened, but it wasn't Juniper's fault," I gather up my annoyance and stuff it away, making an effort to be mature even though I'm still upset. I don't want him to know how much he got to me anyway, "Do you remember that random guy, Miles? The sketchy one who was talking to me the first time we went to Rosie's."
He continues listening, utterly composed save a crease forming between his brows.
"I think he'd been… Following me," I swallow, it unsettles me even now, "He was stalking Juniper and I."
"He better have not laid a hand on you," he says stiffly. His eyes flash again, narrowing with a flicker of menace, "Do you have any idea where he is currently?"
"He's uh… Well, he's very dead. June kind of killed him, like obliterated actually," a nervous sound leaves my throat as I inform him, "There's no way he's coming back."
He remains quite serious, though the worry lines maring his forehead fade, "Are you alright. Were you hurt?"
"I'll survive," I breathe, subtly joking to lighten the mood, "Besides what are you going to do? Bring him back so you can kill him again?"
He eases his rough stance, leaning against a tall lamp post as he glances into the fog thickening like pea soup around us.
He mutters, "The thought crossed my mind."
Jeez, he sounds dead serious.
He rolls the new information in his head quietly before speaking up, "I don't want you staying with your maker anymore. Let me figure out another arrangement."
"Ok."
He opens his mouth but then says nothing, snapping it closed, obviously anticipating resistance. I probably should have given him some grief but whatever, he's got the right idea. June suggested I lie low for a while, too. She's convinced our stalker situation isn't over.
It can't be much later than twelve. I'll go back, grab some provisions, clue in Juniper and find a temporary place to bunk. Hopefully, this whole thing will blow over in a few days.
Sam scans me, biting the inside of his cheek, not looking so optimistic.
"Do you have any clues as to what his motivations were or who he was?" he asks.
"Not really, though June thinks he was sent by someone."
He sneers at the sound of her name. Looking off to run through his thoughts again.
I fidget, that's only half truth. I found out, after much prodding, Juniper suspects Thorn involvement. If that's true, I *know* I don't want Sam added to their hit list.
Now, where am I going to stay? I could contact that "Lucky" guy, he seems capable of helping me out.
I glance up and gulp. Sam is looking sceptical, he must know I'm leaving information out. Fantastic, I guess I really am a bad liar.
"You know something, spill it."
"Spill what?"
My playing dumb doesn't work, "This isn't a game, Ashlen. It's really important that you share what you know or suspect."
I press my lips tightly together.
"I *will* figure it out, Ash. I'd appreciate the heads up but I'll get to the bottom of it on my own if I have to."
I'm nervously playing with my hands, did I just start doing that or is my body that much of a traitor? I tap my two index fingers together then steeple them. He's very determined to get this out of me. Sam's going to implicate himself! Damn him! Why can't he just leave it alone? I have a feeling he isn't going to like the answer.
"He… May have been… Thorn?" I disjointedly confess.
I hear bones crack. His fists ball tightly as the knuckles pop. Yeah, he's really not happy. I glance up to see that terrifyingly intense look. His jaw strains as his teeth scrape together.
I add, trying to talk him down, "It's not certain… Just a-"
"I'm staying with you."
I nod. I won't dare argue with him right now, he looks like he wants to stab someone.
I divert the uncomfortable conversation to my mental checklist, "I need to stop by the cabin to pick up a few things."
"Are they important?"
Talking to June is. It should be done in person and she could have an update on the situation. Having some extra cash in my wallet couldn't hurt either, I have no idea how expensive Lucky's "services" are.
"I'd say yes, I'd like to prepare."
There's detachment in Sam's eyes, like a stone cold FBI agent on a mission, "Let's get a move on then, we're burning moonlight."
He's on his bike and starting it up seemingly before finishing his sentence, bizarre and seamless as a dream. It's so reality breaking and natural all at once. Do I move like that too?
He's waiting for me with that emotionless stare, but something is definitely churning. I don't know if I like where his head is at, he's twice as hard to read this way. I don't like where mine's at either.
We're off at fairly conservative speed for Sam, which is at least fifty above the speed limit. I listen to the hum of the motorcycle and the reverberations of humid sounds as we fly past buildings and trees.
The wind whistles as the low beams cut through a wall of misty gray. The cold mist collects on my skin as we slash through the fog. It's like we're on a horror movie set, the uneasiness in my gut adds to the atmospheric tension.
The drive seems long and short all at once. I recognize the smell of Spiral Hood forest as we cross into neighboring territory. I can taste the fresh water streams that connect to the waterfalls. I could probably scent my way back home from here.
*Home…* Do I actually consider it home?
As I hold onto Sam I notice there's something very different about him. He hasn't moved, hasn't even taken a breath, perfectly still as if someone swapped him with a prop replica. Very quiet and he's not exactly talkative to start.
'What is he thinking abo- Oh!'
It's a memory. No, not a memory, a glimpse of what is to come. A vision.
Sam is standing in a door frame of a dark room adjacent from Juniper.
Where are we, the cabin?
Lightning flashes in the window illuminating his face. He looks furious and deadly, a vicious scowl boring into her.
Some words slip out of his mouth. I don't catch them all because they are changing and altering before they're uttered. It's like static on a television or rippling water, smooth yet distorted.
'Menace', 'Finish', 'Ends' and 'Monster' are some of the recurring words he mouths.
And Juniper's lips slur the ones, 'Show me', 'Come' and 'Death'. She stretches an open palm, beckoning with a taunt. Her hand is stained with blood, in fact, she has stains everywhere. She's a mess.
He goes for her, *goes* for an assault. Thunder rumbles the room and furniture goes flying, smashing to pieces as they roll into it. A leg of a chair is torn off and Sam rams it into her shoulder nearly nailing her to the floorboards.
It's like a cat fight but so much worse, like lions or wolves battling to the finish.
They're all over the place, smashing glass and splintered wood into each other's faces and vitals. Teeth sharp ripping apart flesh, talons racking across like cheese graters. I can't jump in to stop them, it would be like hopping inside a tornado. I can only watch in horror as they effectively disfigure each other. It's a whirlwind of disarray.
Juniper's teeth sink into his throat, she's ripping off his…!
I tense, gasping. She's beheading him!
'No! Stop!'
I'm on top of her before she can plunge a hand into his chest. She flings me aside, hurtling me into some demolished couch cushions.
'This can't happen! If we're in the cabin how did Sam get inside?'
It changes, now they're outside tearing into each other in mud and rain.
'I don't want to see this!'
I'm screaming at the top of my lungs for them to stop. They're not listening, completely ignoring me.
The vision is incredibly unstable, jumping from scenario to scenario. Juniper keeps chewing off Sam's head or claiming his heart in every different vein of the butterfly effect and occasionally they simultaneously fall. Beheading, gutting each other, dead.
Body parts are severing, coming undone and I get a front row seat at every angle. Flesh and bones being pulverized, it's like a pomegranate's tough shell giving under pressure then exploding into juice and seeds.
A head, an arm, a heart, the stomach, all ripping apart and spilling as innerards slide out. The sounds of guttural snarls, screams and tearing flesh blare in the chaos. This is awful!
'Stop it!'
I keep panicking over 'how, where and why', it keeps changing the pattern, changing the order of events and giving me a glimpse of more disturbing violence.
Blood and mud puddles spraying in all directions, more fighting, more death. Juniper and Sam literally killing each other with their bare hands.
I see flash images of their lifeless eyes, mutilated faces and mauled extremities. At least a thousand pictures all leading to one bloody end, like snapping photos of a grotesque homicide.
This is a nightmare and I can't wake up. I want to shut my eyes, erase it, but I can't get away. No one should see people they know torn up like this!
I witness them stab into each other like two knights impaling one another with pointed spears. Sam yanks falling backwards and June collapses to her knees then her side, both taking their piece. Hearts in hand as they bleed out in wet muck and matted grass.
The light fades from their eyes.
'This cannot happen. Please, if I can't change anything else, let me change this.'