Lost Highway(20)

“I’m taking this,” I tell Ana and then set the duffle bag on the counter. “I brought seven. That’s more than enough for these supplies.”

“Eight would be better,” Ana says, looking at Odessa.

“Unless you’re the eighth head, I don’t see your point.”

I never learned to negotiate, and I’m slow at picking up new skills in the Lost Highway. One reason I killed Tom was how he kept bartering with me. If I did this for him, he’d do that for me. I’d rather just kill him and do whatever I wanted.

Ana realizes I’ve been around longer than she has for one very specific reason. She survives by scavenging while I make my way by killing other killers.

“Seven will do,” she says, opening the bag.

Her eyes light up, and she shows Pedro. As they scurry to the backroom with my bag, Odessa peeks around a corner where a dog growls. She looks back at me and sighs.

“You wouldn’t want that dog,” she whispers, returning to my side.

I don’t mention how I wouldn’t trade her for even the best dog.

Odessa looks over our stash before I add them to my supply bag. “What exactly did you give them?” she asks, though I sense she already knows.

“They like heads. I don’t ask questions, and you shouldn’t either. Just don’t look in the standalone freezer in the basement.”

Odessa studies my face for a long time, and I know she’ll touch me soon. I prepare myself for the shock of heat she causes when her warm fingers graze my skin.

Odessa doesn’t disappoint. Though I endure her touch better now, the hot ache in my gut followed by the erection leaves me edgy and vulnerable. These are two dangerous qualities when still facing a three-hour walk to reach the cabin before dark.





Chapter Twenty


Odessa




Relief washes over me once we leave the outpost and gain enough distance from the pungent meat scent clinging to the air. Ahead of me, Quill moves unflinchingly through the thick brush, shoving aside low hanging tree branches. I struggle to keep up with his pace.

The crunching of our footsteps on dried leaves echoes through the woods, making me think people walk all around us. Before I can adjust to all of the noise, the day goes silent. I can’t even hear myself breathing in the cooling day.

“Keep up,” Quill mouths to me.

I speed up my pace, even as my right leg throbs. Around me, the woods wake up. The crunching noise returns along with what I think is growling. I stop more than once, feeling certain something is directly behind me. Every time, I find nothing, even as the growling circles me.

“Odessa!” Quill calls out from yards ahead of me. “Keep up!”

Nodding, I walk again and ignore the growling. Even when I hear what sounds like animals running nearby, I don’t stop.

The wind picks up around me, throwing leaves and dirt in my eyes. I don’t think I hesitate. I’m certain I’m still walking. Except at some point, I find myself standing alone in the woods.

The dancing leaves distract me from worrying about where Quill went. The wind’s power remains silent, though the voices return. They tell me how I was born with fanfare and welcoming faces, but I’ll die alone and unloved.

I feel someone holding my hand and turn to find Athena staring up at me. Her face is just as I remember her from the day she died. Her hair is in short pigtails. Her clothes are covered in blood.

“I didn’t want to die,” she says in a singsong voice.

My mind struggles against the power of the Lost Highway’s tricks. I think I take a step forward, but I’m unsure if I do. The woods’ fury switches back on, and the intensity deafens me. The voices laugh. The animals growl. Athena squeezes my hand. Through it all, I’m powerless to flee.

Suddenly in front of me, Quill shakes me hard enough to break the fog. His angry face is a relief, and I reach for him.

“Eat this,” he says, shoving something into my mouth.

“I’m not hungry.”

Chewing the little bite, I struggle to understand what I taste. The flavor rushes back a long dead memory of enjoying Skittles with Athena. We ate them until the sugar gave us a giggling high.

Focusing on Quill, I smile. He nods at my reaction and then leans down until our gazes are level.

“Night is coming. We need to run if we want to reach the cabin before the darkness reaches us.”

“My leg is…”

“No, it’s not. The Lost Highway doesn’t work that way. You aren’t really in pain. It’s all in here,” he says, tapping my left temple. “You need to run and keep running until we’re inside. If we’re out here in the dark, I suspect I can’t protect you from the wolves or anything else living in the night. Do you understand?”

Nodding, I take a deep breath and look at where we’re headed. “I’ll follow you. If I can’t keep up, don’t wait for me.”

Quill frowns at my words, and I know he won’t leave me to die. Something awoke in him in the basement, and he fears losing the feeling before understanding what it means.

My only concern is not getting him killed, though.

We run, and I work to remain as closely behind Quill as possible. His large build busts through the overgrown brush, leaving enough space for me to follow. His pace is steady, but I can’t keep up. While I don’t fall too far behind, his distance from me increases.