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I threw a quick glance all around, rubbing my cheek as I checked to see whether or not this place had stepped into the twenty-first century and installed cameras. I saw no ever-watchful cameras nearby, nor did I see any once I stepped inside.
It was an old, dingy gas station. The kind that only had two pumps outside, and a whole lot of old-looking food inside. I wouldn’t trust anything on these shelves, and yet my stomach still burned with a need to eat.
No. I’d ask for a phone first, then make two calls.
An old man sat behind the counter, a thick wad of chewing tobacco in his mouth. His lower lip bulged, and I tried my best not to stare at it, nor at the mole on the tip of his nose as I headed toward him. My ankle hurt a bit, now that I’d slowed my pace, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d hurt it when I fell near the graves.
Ray…what have you done?
The old man, who must’ve been at least sixty or seventy years old, dropped his wrinkly gaze to my shirt, slowly bringing it back up. He said nothing, waiting for me to speak first.
I swallowed the nausea running through my system before asking, “Can I use your phone?”
Again, he stared at my shirt, nodding only once before pointing behind him, at a yellow corded phone hanging on the wall.
Why the hell wouldn’t he stop staring at my shirt? It was clean, minus the dirt.
I tossed him a grateful expression, even though a part of me wanted to tell him off. I limped to the phone, my ankle growing worse and worse as the time wore on, grabbing it off its holder and dialing a familiar number.
First, my friend. My one, true friend who would pick me up and ask no questions.
It rang a few times before Kelsey picked up, “Hello?” She sounded unsure, probably because this wasn’t a number she recognized. “Who is this?” She didn’t hesitate to ask, and I found myself smiling softly at the sound of her voice. So familiar, the one calming thing in a sea of horrors.
“It’s me,” I said, not wanting to speak my name in front of the old man. If the shit hit the fan, I didn’t want them to be able to find me. Everything I was about to do, I wanted it anonymous. They could track the phone call, but by the time they thought to, I’d be long gone. “I need you to come pick me up.”
Kelsey knew I was spending the weekend with my boyfriend, although she didn’t know who he was. She must’ve known my plead meant my weekend was not going how I thought it would. “Sure. Where are you?”
I looked at the old man, asking, “What’s the address here?”
He begrudgingly told me, once again eyeing up my clothes. Why? Why did he keep staring at me like I was some freak? It was starting to tick me off…
No. No, I wasn’t mad. I was just…freaked out. The old man probably just wondered what hole I’d crawled out of. I bet I smelled, too. Sweated off my deodorant after running so much.
I repeated it to Kelsey, and then added in a whisper, “I’m going to be a few miles down, though. Honk your horn twice when you get here, and I’ll come out.” I couldn’t linger here after making the second call. And if Ray showed up…
Fuck. No, no I couldn’t stay here. My life depended on it. I had to be smart about this, AKA not be like the women in most horror movies and thrillers. I needed to be intelligent, smart, and brave—but not to the point of stupidity.
Hell. I was eighteen years old. I didn’t want to die.
“I’m getting in my car now,” Kelsey said, not asking me any questions. We’d been friends since elementary; we trusted each other implicitly. She wouldn’t ask me why I needed her, or why I wasn’t going to be at the address I’d given her. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
We spoke our goodbyes before hanging up. My stomach was in knots as I glanced at the old man, still watching me, curious. “One more call,” I whispered, giving him a smile I hoped didn’t freak him out more.
God, this was officially the worst day ever. I really hoped I’d make it through this…
This time, the number I dialed only had three numbers. 9-1-1. Never thought I’d have to call it, but then again, my life wasn’t going how I thought it would, either. This…the choices I’d made brought myself here. This was my fault. Being here was my fault.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a female voice spoke on the other line, and I blinked, my eyes dry. Shock, or something. Maybe it was my mind shutting down after witnessing what I did, after seeing what I did…after realizing my boyfriend was a monster of epic proportions.
“I’d like to report a crime,” I said, watching out of the corner of my eyes the old man straighten his back. I noticed the shotgun he had under the counter, and his itchy fingers, almost as if he was going to shoot me. I wasn’t the criminal here. The man I was running from was.
“What crime?” the operator asked, and I steeled myself for what I was about to say.
“My boyfriend,” I said, “Ray Ruiz, he has a cabin, and there were bodies. I saw one.” At that, my voice cracked, and the old man working the station finally realized I wasn’t the criminal. He peered outside the dirty window, and I prayed with my whole heart he wasn’t friends with Ray. Such a cliched thing if he was.
“Are you at the cabin now? Are you safe?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head as if she could see me. “I ran…but yes, I’m safe.”
