“You’re being really unreasonable right now,” Jasper tells me when I pause ranting at him about how we need to follow that corgi’s trail and get our stuff back. “The last thing we want is confrontation. I’m not willing to die or kill anybody over a couple of back packs—”

“But our supplies!” I wail.

“We’ll be at that distribution center tomorrow if we hoof it. We can grab some new bags and fill ‘em up with supplies. There is no reason to—”

“I want my fucking stuff back Jasper! We’re not just going to let some random corgi owner get away with stealing our stuff! We can get it back just as easily as they stole it!”

Jasper is looking at me in silent judgement. After a moment he says “All of that stuff is easily replaced. We still have these guns and my knife.” He lifts his shirt to show slim pack strapped across his chest. “I have some protein bars and bottle of water in here. And the maps. We’re fine.”

“I have photos in that bag! The only pictures of my grandparents and my mom. I have a thumb drive with all of my writing. None of that is replaceable! I’m going after these people with or without your help.”

I start stomping across the field, but I don’t see any paw prints at all. The ground is dry and hard under the tall grass. I don’t know shit about tracking!

Fuck!

Jasper is just standing there where I left him. When he sees me looking over at him he starts walking my way.

“Listen, I’m sorry we lost your photos and stuff. Are they backed up online? Maybe if the power and everything comes back on you’ll be able to download them again. Or if you ever make it out of this country to someplace that hasn’t been—”

I’m nodding, but also tearing up.

“C’mere.” Grabbing my sleeve he tugs me toward him then enfolds me in his arms.

He gently rests his chin on the op of my head and rubs my back.

“You’ll be okay.”

I don’t feel okay, but he’s very good at hugging. I haven’t hugged a lot of people lately, but I know it was always awkward before. I wouldn’t know where to put my hands or how hard to squeeze or when to let go. He just takes charge of the whole business, and I don’t have to worry about anything while he’s holding me like this.

I still want my shit back though.

With no other option, we continue on our way to the warehouse. We’re not exactly hoofing it though.

Jasper is subdued as he tells me that this isn’t the first time he’s been robbed. That’s why he has the map with all of the amazon and Walmart distribution centers, because he knows he can lose everything at any time so he has this plan to replace it all. And he’s a total pacifist on this issue. Not willing to fight at all if he doesn’t need to because in a real fight, even the winner has injuries. There are no clinics to treat concussions, broken fingers, sprained wrists, broken teeth, etc etc etc.

He's talking sense and I understand where he’s coming from, but I can’t help the cold sensation of fear and disappointment. Jasper is not the tough guy I assumed him to be. I am not safer in his company, not really. I can’t count on a pacifist to stand between me and danger. When push comes to shove this man will avoid conflict instead of defending what’s his.

Not that I’m his. I had already decided he’s not the one.

Sometimes when I experience a setback, my brain starts a spiral of doom. I feel worse and worse and really unpleasant thoughts start to pop up and I can’t seem to shake it off. I just have to wait it out, usually cuddled up on my couch under a fleece blanket binge-watching reality television.

I’m starting to feel that way now, in a really big way. And the unpleasant thoughts that are popping up are the women who walked into the ocean. It’s obviously horrifying that they all drowned themselves and their bodies all washed up on the beach by now. But is that actually bad? How am I going to die, when I die? Obviously not in a hospital. Not on life support and pain-relievers. Whatever happens to me out here, I’ll just have to go through it. Feel every bit of it. Whether that’s an infection from a cut or an animal bite, a gunshot wound, starvation, heat exhaustion, hypothermia—okay, I know my thoughts and feelings are out of control. This is one of my doom spirals. Nothing has actually happened to me. But maybe I chose the wrong path and those forty thousand women chose the right one when they took their ultimate fate into their own hands and walked into the water. Maybe—

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Okay, I’m not going to do it. I’m not. But I need to do something.

After our evening meal of protein bars and water, we don’t make camp. We don’t have any camping supplies, so we’re just going to keep walking all night. It gets really dark really fast because there are tall-ass pine trees lining each side of this narrow country road.

Jasper grabs my hand and we continue walking that way through the night.

As the sun comes up, we come to a road-block. One of the trees has fallen across the road, but it’s obviously a man-made barrier because it is cleanly cut, with a flat next to it.

I start to get a bad feeling, but it’s not necessarily a bad sign. Whoever lives on this road may have just cut that tree down as a defensive measure or something. Like there could be a really good non-sinister reason why—

“Hold it right there!” a man yells as he steps out of the tree line and onto the shoulder of the road. He’s pointing a very serious looking gun at us.

Jasper raises his hands and I follow his lead.

Another one steps out and—shit. What do we do now?

“State your business!” the first guy demands.

“Just passing through,” Jasper answers.

“Oh yeah? Where you headed?”

“Newnan.”

The two men share a look. They are both dressed in hunting gear. Camo, baclava masks, hiking boots. One pulls his mask up and leans over to say something to the other one who nods.

“What’s your name girlie?” he asks, jerking his gun in my direction.

“C—Candy,” I stutter out.

“Candace Murphy?”

I nod and take a step forward. “Yeah. How do you—?”

“I got some stuff that might belong to you. Found it when I was out yesterday—”

“You found it?” Jasper interrupts, disbelievingly.

“Put those hands back up big boy, I did not say you could move.”

Jasper obeys.

“You found my stuff?” I prompt.

The guy nods and the other one grins. “Those were some interesting pictures darlin’.”

“Yeah, real interesting. Especially the ones on that thumb drive—”

Shit. I forgot about all of the erotic content I had stored on there. And the photo albulm had my name in it. Double shit.

“So her stuff was just lying on the side of the road?” Jasper asks again.

“I don’t like your tone.” The way this guy looks at Jasper is as cold as a copperhead. “Those bags were sitting on the side of the road half empty. I guess whoever had them wasn’t interested in photo-albums, thumb drives and vampire books. They took what they wanted and left the rest.”

He reaches down to the Velcro pocket low on his side, pulls it open and fishes a book out. It’s The Vampire’s Omega.

The book is tossed to me and I catch it clumsily.

There is a dark stain on the edges, each page has a blotch and—it can’t be mud. Too dark.

“This is Jasper’s book.” I turn and shove the book into Jasper’s pocket. I try to catch his gaze, covey a silent ‘be careful’ message. But he’s not looking away from the two guys.

Okay—obviously this is going to end badly.

Obviously.

I make a quick calculation, then turn back to the guys. A dumb smile, vacant eyes, and I even twirl the end of my ponytail as I gush, “Thanks soooooo much guys! I can’t believe you found my stuff!”

“Ther rest of it is at our camp—”

“Can we go there now?” I turn to Jasper. “You don’t have to come. I don’t want to hold you up.”

Jasper gapes at me for a second then says, “I should come with.”

“Now hold on a second hoss. The lady said you don’t need to come with.”

“Yeah, it’s okay Jasper. Thanks for all your help but—”

Jasper is nonplussed. I had hoped he would understand that unless he leaves, they’re going to kill him. And unless I go with them willingly, they’re going to make me. I was sure that Jasper’s pacifist instincts would kick in and keep him safe—

“If—if you’re sure?”

I nod happily, then turn away from him, focusing on the two guys who surely killed whoever it was that stole our bags.

I twirl the end of my ponytail around my finger, and grin at the one holding a gun on Jasper. “Wow—that is a serious looking gun. What kind is it?”

“Oh,” he looks at the gun then back at me. “It’s a Ruger AR-556.”

“I’ve never heard of that kind.” I take a step toward him and he lowers the gun so I can take a closer look at it. “It looks like one of those AR-15s.” I only know a few kinds of guns.

“Yeah, this is basically an AR-15, the Ruger version.”

I twirl my hair some more and tilt my head, “What does AR even mean?”

“Well a lot of folks think it means assault rifle. But it actually means ArmaLite Rifle and—”

And he’s off. You can always count on men to monologue about their special interests. I guess women do that too, but I haven’t spent a lot of time trying to manipulate women into running up the clock on a pay-per-minute video call. So I wouldn't know.

I start walking with these two guys, pretending to be really interested in their guns. I only spare one glance behind us to see Jasper walking away.