Opening my eyes, 306 lounges on the log, letting the sun wash over him like this is a day spa. “This way,” I tell him and start walking toward the blanketing trees.
He springs up, looking confused. “How do you know?”
“I just do.”
The trees offer shelter from the snowstorm that unexpectedly hit. We come across a small hill and keep ourselves on alert as we ascend. Coming into view is a large property, holding a barn, farmhouse, and multiple fenced-in areas for different types of animals.
306 looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re sure about this?”
“Positive,” I confirm, not taking my eyes off the man exiting the house. I don’t make any notions of concealing myself. There’s no point. I’m going to have to talk to him anyway.
He either senses me or hears me. Either way, he looks up at us, squinting his eyes before offering a hesitant wave.
“What can I do for you?” the man calls out. But I wait until we’re in talking distance before replying.
“We’re looking for a girl. She escaped, and we have reason to believe she went this way and passed through your land.” No sense in beating around the bush, and nothing I said was a lie. Shedidescape, and shedidcome through here. I just don’t know if she’sstillhere.
“Sorry, nobody passes through here, especially since we’re on the edge of town. Nearly out of the limits.” He chuckles. His body language doesn’t give away even a hint that he’s lying. If I was anybody else, I would probably believe him.
But I’m not. And I don’t.
“If that’s the case, you won’t mind if we have a look around.” Continuing forward, I beeline for the barn. 306 is hot on my heels, but the man walks leisurely, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
He’s good. But I’m better.
Pulling the door to the side, I’m hit with the formidable smell of musty hay, slightly damp wood like it just rained, manure, and hints of leather and grain. There are a few horses in their stalls, minding their own business. But just as I’m passing, one of them sticks its head out the opening and jabs me in the cheek with its snoot.
The onyx-colored horse sneers—or what I assume is the horse equivalent—and his ears are pinned back as far as they can go.
“That’s Licorice. He has a bit of a temper and is not very fond of newcomers,” the man says from the doorway. Eyeing Licorice curiously, he follows my every move. But there is something about him or his stall—I can smell it. Behind all the musk and manure is the faintest hint of vanilla, and I know she was here.
Maybe the man was telling the truth. There’s a chance he didn’t see her. Kallie could’ve slept here and slinked away in the night before anyone knew.
I inspect the rest of the barn. The man doesn’t give any indication we’re on to something, and 306 makes sure to keep one eye on him and the task at hand. We go back out, and I insist we check out the house as well.
“What was your name?” I ask the man.
“Harvey,” he answers instantly.
306 leans in, whispering in my ear, “Do you really think he would tell you his name if he was guilty of anything?”
“I think not telling us would have been more suspicious. I know she was here. Whether he was aware of it or not, I’m still unsure.” The house is quaint, and I have to duck a tad to get myhead through the door. Harvey disappears into what looks like a kitchen, leaving us unattended in the living room.
“Something doesn’t feel right about this,” 306 states. Hushed murmurs sound from where Harvey went, but before I make it into the other room, a picture on the wall catches my attention. A younger Harvey is in the picture along with a woman with blonde curly hair, and atop that judgmental horse, sits a girl. Probably not much older than ten years old.
And she looks just like Kallie.
Kallie…the girl who escaped. The girl who I’m supposed to bring back to my commander. But why do I feel like she’s more. Staring at the picture, I get a pang in the back of my head, like a throbbing, insistent pain.
Flashes of a life I don’t know come at me in force, like I’m looking at a life from someone else’s perspective. But they feel like memories. Like I’ve—
“You good, boss?” 306 asks.
I nod my head, not able to form words to respond. The pain spreads through the back of my skull, and I brace my hand against the wall for support. Suddenly, there’s a familiar pinch on my arm, and the pain fades away, like a ghost passing by.
Standing up straight, I shake my head to clear it, and I look at the picture again. It’s a family. This family. Harvey re-enters the room, the blonde-haired woman from the photo in tow.
“This is my wife, Winnie,” Harvey introduces.
