Chapter 11 - A Risky Choice [https://cdn.midjourney.com/e7094a0c-5f32-4438-95c8-4eda06c5c87c/0_1.png]
Grateful for the shower, Kennedy stood with her arms at her sides as the heat sheeted across her body. Normally, she was not a person who experienced regret about her sexual adventures, but this town took slut-shaming to a whole new level. With the slippery soap in her hands, she worked her body clean. It was probably all in her head, but she was itchy as fuck.
They must have rolled in something poisonous. As the sting burned her lower legs, she rinsed her body. When pink water ran toward the drain, she looked at the cut on her ankle. Fine. Then she checked the other fucking one. Even though there was nothing to cut her in the shower, her skin gaped apart in two small places next to her tattoo. Hesitantly, she pressed one, trying to close the gap. When it widened, she hissed. The fucker hurt. What the hell? Drawing a towel around herself, she stepped out of the shower. Washcloth in hand, she headed to her purse. Her pocketbook had everything in it, including some good-sized band-aids. She pressed the washcloth to her ankle as she dug through her purse. She hummed to herself as she fished one out.
“This will do.” She pressed the cuts closed and used the band-aid to hold them together. When he had said split, had he meant this?
Wearing fresh panties, wrinkled khakis, and a clean t-shirt, she was ready to go. Because a Ride-share was on its way, she could breathe. Sometimes, the difference between a bad idea and a tragic turn of events was how long it took to change direction and she wasn’t one to linger. When things got hard, she knew how to bounce.
With her backpack slung over her shoulder; she locked the room behind her. Carelessly, she tossed the keys vaguely toward the cheeky bitch behind the counter. Without saying goodbye, she swung through the hotel door.
Seated on the bench outside of the entrance, gnarled hands resting on a sturdy cane, an older man waited for someone. He watched her with hungry eyes. “Need a ride, Miss?” As his eyes lingered on her, sliding over her body, she shuddered. What the fuck?
She snapped. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
Across the street, Terry’s truck sat empty outside the diner that was obsessed with tea. She could see him inside at a table, seated by the window, drinking coffee.
The old man struggled to stand, lifting his bent body from the bench. “I’m sure I could help you. If you just let me.” As he stood, he pushed out his chest and tried to bring himself to his full height. “I might surprise you.”
“I’m meeting someone.” Jesus, what was with this town? Kennedy left before he made a fool of himself. Until the Rideshare arrived, she could sit with Terry. As soon as she opened the door, a bell chimed. Kennedy made her way across the black-and-white tiles.
Decorated like it was still the fifties, the place smelled like waffles, bacon and eggs. Wearing a tentative smile, she slid into the booth across from the big man. Terry’s coffee cup looked small in his hands.
His lips quirked up in an almost smile.
As she pointed to the old guy, she frowned. “The men in your town are mannerless.” Picking up a piece of his toast without asking, she bit into a corner. He had eaten most of his breakfast.
Disapproving, he blew his breath out, nostrils briefly flaring.
“Okay, not all of them. You have manners.” She looked around the mostly empty diner. “You mind if I sit with you while I wait for my Rideshare?”
When he didn’t complain, she relaxed back against the vinyl seat. The Vet lifted his coffee cup and then 2 fingers.
“You got it, Doc.” A pony-tailed server called back, a friendly teenage version of the grump who had served Kennedy French fries her first day. Granddaughter maybe.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
“So, you are the town veterinarian.”
Nodding, he slid his cup and saucer to the edge of the table. As the server rounded the corner with a fresh cup and a hot pot, she said, “He is a good Vet. Helped my folks out last year when their best dairy goat got a nasty infection.” She didn’t immediately pour into the second cup. The server asked her, “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have tea? It’s exceptionally good this season.”
Kennedy grimaced at her and tapped her cup with her index finger. Why was this town obsessed with tea? They had brought her a cup the first day without asking and it had smelled too gross to even try.
The vet smiled at the woman. Touching his fingers to his lips, saying thank you.
“You are welcome. Anytime, Doc.” She filled both cups. “You want something to eat, Darlin?”
Kennedy’s stomach rumbled. “You got pancakes?”
“What self-respecting diner doesn’t have pancakes? Full or half stack?”
“Full.” She was starving, hungover, and tired.
The server nodded and left.
Kennedy pulled her coffee cup toward her. “My other ankle began bleeding.”
He touched her wrist as she reached for the sugar.
“The cut wasn’t deep. The other side stung more last night.” She looked into his concerned eyes. After tugging her hand free, she sweetened her coffee, stirring in cream as well. “It’s kinda weird, isn’t it, though? Skin splitting open.”
He nodded.
“I tried looking it up on my phone, as a symptom of something. Have you seen this before?”
He tapped his own chest.
“You’ve seen it, or had it happen to you?”
He tapped his chest again and grumbled, “Ya.”
“Both?”
He gave a grunt.
“Did you go to the healer you spoke of?”
He nodded.
“Were you serious about taking me?”
“Ya,” he said, voice gravelly.
Since her parents had tattoos like his, the healer might explain what happened to her birth mother. If she went along, she might learn something. On impulse, she pulled out her phone and canceled her Rideshare. She hadn’t changed her bus ticket yet. Could be this town made her nuts? Tight in her skin, she couldn’t ignore the wetness seeping along her heel. Across the street, the old guy lingered on the bench in front of the hotel, ignoring his ride when it arrived. He was staring at her, and his intensity creeped her out.
*
On the first try, the truck cranked. Kennedy put pressure on her ankle through the now wet bandage, pink and damp under her fingers. She put on her seatbelt without him asking. Her belly was tight, full of pancakes, and more coffee than was reasonable for a person. She thought of the bears shaking the bushes the night before and shuddered. Bear mauling sounded like an awful way to go. There was a documentary on PBS about a researcher consumed by Grizzly bears. The bears ate the guy as if he was an egg roll.
If she didn’t stop thinking about bears, she was going to panic. “Can we make it to the healer with the truck?”
Terry shook his head no. Without looking at her, he made a damn fine imitation of a horse’s whinny.
“Oh no, they don’t care for me. Horses have never liked me since I was a kid.”
Impatiently, he drummed his fingers on the wheel.
“Is there another way?”
He nodded. When they stopped at a small grocery store, they picked up supplies; lunch meat, two gallons of water, a bag of apples, and a dollar loaf of bread. Although Kennedy had plenty of questions, Terry seemed in no mood to answer them.
When he turned the truck back into the drive up to the cabin, Kennedy groaned. “I bet your mom is going to be happy to see me.”
Terry snorted a laugh and shrugged.
When the truck pulled up, his mother came outside angry as a yellow jacket. “What the hell have you done? Why isn’t she on a bus?” She stormed to the steps before they were out of the truck. “This is a waste of your time.”
The wiry woman dogged her son as he headed toward the barn. Kennedy followed. He answered the older woman in the grumble roll language. And if possible, his mother got even madder.
“What do you think? You can save this one. You weren’t able to get yourself flipped around right. What makes you think you can help one of the Lost? Raised by city people? Have you lost your mind? This is taking in strays to a stupid level.”
When he rounded on her, she held her ground. Terry said, “My choice.” He answered her in garbled English. “Mine.”
Abruptly, the woman shifted the fire of her anger toward Kennedy. “And what’s with you? Do you want to meet those religious nut jobs? They have fantasies of saving the world. They believe they are the salvation of humankind. I bet he didn’t tell you that.” She spat. “They are rotten apples, the whole barrel.” She sounded nuts. “Terry, she’s splitting. She is running blood from both sides. Her scent is out on the wind. You won’t make it. She’s gonna be gone before you get there, into madness or skin. Or she’ll get screwed to death by whatever you find out in the wild that is half-mad itself.”
Terry pulled open the heavy barn doors. There was a four-wheeler there. Without looking at either of the women, he loaded extra gas and camping equipment onto the recreational vehicle. He unlocked a trunk and withdrew a gun and water purification tablets.
His mother gritted her teeth. “I wash my hands of this. Disgusting.” Angrily, she walked halfway back to the house and turned to yell. “Stupid. My son is stupid.”
He winced and lashed the water jugs in place.