Page 30 of Hunted By Them

“Oh…okay, um…I’ll have to clear that. I’ll be right back.” Immediately after she stepped away, a police officer took her spot. His eyes were sharper, like he was accusing me of something, and I didn’t like it.

“Ms. Harlow, I’m Officer Walsh. Have you purposely been hiding?”

“No.” I glared at him.

“And you don’t remember anything?”

I crossed my arms. “No. I was caught in that horrible storm and took refuge in a small, rundown cabin. After that…I don’t know.”

“But you don’t want to be checked out? You must see how that looks suspicious?”

The ranger stepped between us and clapped the guy on the shoulder.

“Can’t you see she’s confused. She’s obviously been through a lot. We’ve seen this out here before. The forest is…well, strange things happen all the time. You should see how many werewolf and Bigfoot sightings we get in a month. Give her a couple days, it might come back,” he suggested, and I appreciated the backup.

“Fine, I’ll have some follow-up questions when you are feeling up to it, Ms. Harlow. I’ll make arrangements for your car and take you home myself.”

I nodded but knew that I wouldn’t be saying anything more. No matter how many days he gave me. My silence felt safer than the truth.

Eventually, the officer ushered me into his car. Exhausted, I held my pack on my lap and leaned against the window. The tents, the rangers, the trees, the cave where I’d learned who I really was…it all blurred into the distance as we drove away.

“Don’t worry about the car, it’ll be fine,” he said kindly, his voice different now that he’d decided I wasn’t lying to him. “You just need to get some rest.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled, not really caring about my car.

I felt numb, empty, and my mind spiraled as I recounted every second that I’d spent with Buck, Elk, and Caribou.

God, I wish they’d shown me their faces, or given me names or anything to hold on to for the rest of my life.

By the time we pulled up outside my building, the sun was higher. Heat pressed in on me, and it felt like too much. I stepped out, legs stiff, and thanked the officer with a voice that didn’t sound like mine.

Inside, my apartment smelled faintly of apple air freshener and dust. Everything was exactly as I’d left it. I dropped my pack on the ground and looked around at the dirty dishes that needed to be washed. The books I had stacked by the couch reminded me of my endless TBR. The mug that sat by the coffee pot, waiting to be used. The tiny place no longer felt like mine. The memories I’d made here were foreign.

I slowly walked to the bedroom, and as soon as I saw my neatly made bed and large pillows, tears filled my eyes.

Hollow. That was all I felt, an aching emptiness where the three unknown men had occupied. The storm was gone. The masks were gone. The forest was miles behind me.

But their voices still whispered in my blood, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I hadn’t escaped at all.

Buck had promised that when I left, I’d always think of them, and even if that had seemed impossible at the time…I believed it now.

Walking over to the bed, I flopped down and let the silent tears fall. I wasn’t crying because I had to leave the men in the forest. I was crying because it felt like I had left my true self in the heart of the woods, and now…there was no getting it back. I was back physically, but emotionally, I had never left that mysterious cave.

Yellowstone Park and the mysteries it held…could now add mine to the endless list of stories.

SAGE

I’d stared at myself in the mirror for hours last night, my eyes focused on my chest where Buck had carved the word MINE. The lines were faint, but they were there. I wasn’t crazy.

Today, that word was completely hidden from view. Every detail of my outfit was chosen as if I were trying to pass a sobriety test. Trying to prove that I could stand upright in the chaos of my reality.

My dress pants were neatly pressed and didn’t look like they had seen a forest. I wore a clean blouse and a neutral cardigan as camouflage amongst the office trolls. My hair was in a practical bun, and my makeup was subtle. Not a ton, just enough to erase the bruised moons under my eyes and to make me look like someone who remembered how to exist under fluorescent lights. The mirror said, ‘functional adult,’ while my brain said, ‘liar.’

I grabbed my keys and purse, then slipped on my overly practical pumps. I moved through my apartment on autopilot, and it was as if the rooms watched me like I was a stranger. The mug on the counter still had the coffee ring from the last morning I belonged to this version of my life. It looked offended that I’d left it behind, and it was the only thing I’d truly missed.

By the time I slid behind the wheel of my little sedan, the sun had cleared the top of the neighboring buildings and turned my dashboard into a solid reflection of light. I backed out of my spot and drove through the parking lot to the exit. Everything seemed…normal. But it wasn’t.

I merged into traffic and took the familiar route to the office with my fingers clenched around the steering wheel. The city might be called a concrete jungle, but it was nothing like it. I had never noticed just how loud everything was here, even inside the obedient lines. Horns blared, people yelled, construction equipment rattled my car, and I played chicken at every light with the throngs of people wanting to cross. My chest stayed tight the whole way.