He
stares at his lap for a moment, fiddling with the keys in his hand. His jaw
tenses before he shakes his head, another sigh fleeing him.
"We need gas," he mutters, turning and opening the car door.
A smile stretches itself across my lips for a second, but I'm quick to
repress it before he has a chance to see it. I step out of the car and shut the
door behind me before walking round the back and finding Logan pulling the boot
open. He pulls out an old gas canister and hands it to me before pulling out
another. Closing the boot, he turns and begins walking down the road. I stare
after him for a second.
"We're not getting gas from the gas station?" I ask.
"No," he replies, not bothering to stop or glance in my direction.
I throw one last glance at the gas station before following him. As we walk
down the road, the sun dips below the tree line, casting an orange haze along
the street. It tinges itself with purple before drifting into darker territory.
Logan stops several steps ahead of me and turns. He doesn't say anything,
but he waits for me to catch up with him.
"We siphoning from a car?" I ask as I finally reach him. His eyes
hover above my shoulder before snapping to meet my gaze. He nods curtly, his
features tense. He turns and walks forward a few more meters before pointing
towards a car parked precariously on the sidewalk.
With his free hand he grabs my arm, his fingers gently tensing around my
bicep. Stopping beside the gas tank of the car he kneels down and pulls me down
with him. I lean against the hot metal and stare up at him questioningly as he
unscrews the cap of his gas canister.
"Someone's following us," he says, his gaze diverting to mine.
My eyes drift down the street we've come from, analyzing the waving trees
and still houses.
"How do you know?" I ask, leaning closer towards him. My gaze
travels further down the street and back to the gas station, paying attention
to every swaying shadow in the growing night. He inhales slowly and carefully
before nodding his head.
"I know," he mutters, exhaling quietly.
For a moment, I think this may be an elaborate plan for him to try and ditch
me. But his muscles are tense and his posture rigid, and I find myself taking
him for his word. Another glance down the road and I whisper. "Back to the
car?"
He nods.
We stand up at the same time, our attentions catching simultaneously on the
figure that stands motionless on the other side of the car. Logan wasn't lying.
A small gasp flees into the night as I take a step back and Logan's hand snaps
towards the gun in his back pocket.
The stranger's arms hang limp at his sides, his stature still and silent.
Brown eyes shifting leisurely between Logan and I are the only movements
visible. His body is clad in all black, a hoodie pulled almost to his brow and
a balaclava smearing itself across the majority of his face. He blends in with
the night, his frozen demeanor and silent facade imitating its depths.
"Speak," Logan growls, pulling the gun to his side. The man looks
at him, but remains silent, his eyes a blank but not lifeless stare.
"I said speak!" Logan growls again, louder this time as he pulls
the gun up and aims it at the man. I take another step back, movement catching
itself at the corner of my eye. I turn and look, my body suspending itself
mid-step.
Another three men have spread themselves along the road behind us, all
dressed the same. Like a pack of dogs that have their prey circled they too do
nothing but stare, eating us alive with their eyes.
"Logan. . . " The word trails off as I reach out and place a hand
on his shoulder. He looks at me before following my gaze to the other three
men.
Silence encircles us in a bubble as the dark hugs each of them, compressing
their bodies into terrifying contortions.
None of them move.
Until all of them do.
CHAPTER
NINE
Logan
My finger squeezes around the trigger before my arm is
even in the air. The bullet strikes one of them in the leg, their
stares at his lap for a moment, fiddling with the keys in his hand. His jaw
tenses before he shakes his head, another sigh fleeing him.
"We need gas," he mutters, turning and opening the car door.
A smile stretches itself across my lips for a second, but I'm quick to
repress it before he has a chance to see it. I step out of the car and shut the
door behind me before walking round the back and finding Logan pulling the boot
open. He pulls out an old gas canister and hands it to me before pulling out
another. Closing the boot, he turns and begins walking down the road. I stare
after him for a second.
"We're not getting gas from the gas station?" I ask.
"No," he replies, not bothering to stop or glance in my direction.
I throw one last glance at the gas station before following him. As we walk
down the road, the sun dips below the tree line, casting an orange haze along
the street. It tinges itself with purple before drifting into darker territory.
Logan stops several steps ahead of me and turns. He doesn't say anything,
but he waits for me to catch up with him.
"We siphoning from a car?" I ask as I finally reach him. His eyes
hover above my shoulder before snapping to meet my gaze. He nods curtly, his
features tense. He turns and walks forward a few more meters before pointing
towards a car parked precariously on the sidewalk.
With his free hand he grabs my arm, his fingers gently tensing around my
bicep. Stopping beside the gas tank of the car he kneels down and pulls me down
with him. I lean against the hot metal and stare up at him questioningly as he
unscrews the cap of his gas canister.
"Someone's following us," he says, his gaze diverting to mine.
My eyes drift down the street we've come from, analyzing the waving trees
and still houses.
"How do you know?" I ask, leaning closer towards him. My gaze
travels further down the street and back to the gas station, paying attention
to every swaying shadow in the growing night. He inhales slowly and carefully
before nodding his head.
"I know," he mutters, exhaling quietly.
For a moment, I think this may be an elaborate plan for him to try and ditch
me. But his muscles are tense and his posture rigid, and I find myself taking
him for his word. Another glance down the road and I whisper. "Back to the
car?"
He nods.
We stand up at the same time, our attentions catching simultaneously on the
figure that stands motionless on the other side of the car. Logan wasn't lying.
A small gasp flees into the night as I take a step back and Logan's hand snaps
towards the gun in his back pocket.
The stranger's arms hang limp at his sides, his stature still and silent.
Brown eyes shifting leisurely between Logan and I are the only movements
visible. His body is clad in all black, a hoodie pulled almost to his brow and
a balaclava smearing itself across the majority of his face. He blends in with
the night, his frozen demeanor and silent facade imitating its depths.
"Speak," Logan growls, pulling the gun to his side. The man looks
at him, but remains silent, his eyes a blank but not lifeless stare.
"I said speak!" Logan growls again, louder this time as he pulls
the gun up and aims it at the man. I take another step back, movement catching
itself at the corner of my eye. I turn and look, my body suspending itself
mid-step.
Another three men have spread themselves along the road behind us, all
dressed the same. Like a pack of dogs that have their prey circled they too do
nothing but stare, eating us alive with their eyes.
"Logan. . . " The word trails off as I reach out and place a hand
on his shoulder. He looks at me before following my gaze to the other three
men.
Silence encircles us in a bubble as the dark hugs each of them, compressing
their bodies into terrifying contortions.
None of them move.
Until all of them do.
CHAPTER
NINE
Logan
My finger squeezes around the trigger before my arm is
even in the air. The bullet strikes one of them in the leg, their
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