Chapter Eight

Hiker Snack

They lead me into the deep, dark woods.

Along with the sounds of someone running through the forest without being able to see where they’re going become clear. Alas, it all stops less than a minute after I take to the air, along with a loud oof that makes me imagine the poor guy ran face-first into a tree and had the wind knocked out of him.

Skimming low above the trees, I fly in the direction the sounds came from, hoping the silence is due to the guy knocking himself senseless… and not because whatever made him scream caught up to him.

We sometimes get bears around here. Hmm. It occurs to me I’m heading in the direction of that corporate-owned farm I used to steal from as a child. Not talking grand larceny here, just a poor starving kid sneaking off with some produce.

Another few seconds go by and the farm comes into view up ahead. It’s probably half a mile or so from my parents’ house. As farms go, it’s not that big. It’s big for this area. In a shocking twist, the place looks run down and abandoned. The buildings are rusting. One of the doors on the giant barn has fallen off and lays on the ground. What few bits of farm machinery remain all look like they could serve as background scenery for a bleak post-apocalypse movie.

The scream happens again, emanating from inside the huge barn.

I glide in to land just outside the gaping opening in the front of the barn, and let my wings disappear. Various huge machines fill the structure. I’m not sure what they are other than having something to do with large-scale agricultural processing. Mass-washing, peeling, or packaging… that sort of thing. None of it’s been in operation for at least a decade, if not more.

Rattling chain noises lead me forward around a big conveyor system.

On the left side of the massive room near the wall, a young man struggles to free himself from a chain padlocked around his neck. He’s tethered to another section of metal conveyor. The stench of old urine hits me. It’s obviously not from this guy, but it gets me wondering if he might not be the first person to have found himself trapped here.

Whoa. Am I dealing with a serial killer?

Thank God I am what I am—or I’d be too scared to risk going any farther into this barn. No matter how psychotic a mortal is, they aren’t going to be too much of a threat to me… barring the random chance they happen to have a silver weapon or a small nuke. I suppose someone with magic who knows exactly what I am would be a dangerous threat, too. But the chances of someone like that being a serial killer operating in the middle of nowhere are so small they’re laughable.

I walk closer to the struggling man.

He catches sight of me when my shadow appears in a swath of moonlight cast on the ground beside him from a big window. He stares back at me—and screams again.

“Hey, relax. I’m not going to hurt you,” I say.

Near to hyperventilating, both hands clutch the chain leading to his throat. It’s slightly rusty and definitely not new. Likely, whoever put this guy here found the chain on the property.

This guy is definitely not the man from the missing poster at the diner. This guy looks Asian, if I had to guess. There’s a large backpack on the ground beside him and the olive drab coat he’s wearing says ‘outdoor enthusiast’ on the sleeve.

I notice a few slice marks in his coat around his shoulders. Almost like he got picked up by a giant eagle. Oh, boy. This is getting weird fast.

“Do you have a phone?” rasps the guy.

“Yeah.”

“Call the cops… quick.” He shivers. “We gotta get the hell out of here before the monster comes back.”

“Monster?” I ask.

“This giant... thing grabbed me when I was hiking. Dragged me here.”

I blink. “Who goes hiking this late at night?”

He stares. “Just please call the cops before it comes back. It said it was saving me as a snack for later.”

“It spoke?” I wrack my brain, trying to think of what sort of ‘giant monster’ would also talk to its victim.

The guy tugs at the chain. “It said it was going to kill me slowly.”

The sudden sense we’re not alone comes over me, making me look around and up at the rafters. I don’t see anything, so I’m either picking up on a ghost or whatever we’re dealing with is very good at hiding. I can see in the dark, but I can’t see through solid objects. An increasing sense that we’re about to be attacked crawls up my spine.

“Call the cops! Hurry!” rasps the hiker.

“No time.” I crouch over the guy, grab the ring of chain around his neck in my left hand, the padlock in my right, then give a hard yank. The lock breaks. I toss it aside and fling the chain off the gawking hiker .

He might be too dumbfounded to speak, but he’s quite able to run. It only takes him a few seconds to process that he’s no longer chained to the machinery before he gets the hint and takes off, forgetting his backpack. I grab it in one hand and chase after him. There’s enough moonlight for a mortal to see his way around on the farm. Not so much in the woods, though. I catch up to the guy and lead him toward my parents’ house.

Bringing this guy home is not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but it makes the most sense, given the situation. He’s alone, helpless, and lost out here in the dark. Yeah, there are innocents at the house who I’m probably putting in danger right now. However, between Anthony, Tammy, and myself, I’m sure we can fight off whatever random creature is upset with me for stealing its snack.

Irony right? I’m all grown up now and still sneaking onto that farm to steal food—in a manner of speaking.

By now, we’re about three-quarters of the way to my parents’ house, following a dirt road through the woods. Trees surround us everywhere. It’s the sort of overgrown woods where a little kid can hide under the foliage from angry farm workers and not be found.

A growl comes from behind us.

Maybe it’s my imagination—but I got a feeling it isn’t.