Both cooks stop, staring holes into my flesh.
“It was just a prank. End of story,” I say.
“More like the end of Frank’s job,” Heather says under her breath.
My face flushes, ashamed to be caught in a lie.
“Not that simple,” I say, though I know better.
“But how are you going to do it all alone?” Gustavo chimes in. “Especially under the circumstances,” he adds in hushed tones.
“There are no circumstances,” I say too firmly.
Heather blinks twice slowly. “Please be careful out there. Especially if it’s starting again.”
Our eyes lock. “Nothing’s starting again. Now, I better get back to the government men.”
Heather and Gustavo exchange glances.
“Government men?” Heather repeats. “Now I’m sure something’s up.”
I toss my hands in the air, exasperated. “Believe what you like. But I, for one, choose to live in the real world… you know, where everything has an explanation.”
“You mean like Occam’s Razor?” Gustavo says with a wry smile. “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”
I huff a laugh. “Like the chupacabra or Bigfoot. Why didn’t I think of that myself?”
“No,” Gustavo replies. “Like little gray men.”
“Or men in black.” Heather’s voice drops as she looks through the window at the top of the kitchen door, straight at the two men in the booth.
The talkative one smiles, and something in my chest drops hard.
Chapter
Four
KAEL
The feed store bell rings when I enter, boots clomping toward the register.
Mags. Hasn’t aged a day, though she’s taken pains to blend in since the last time I saw her. Her red hair streaked with bleach, a cane propped against the desk in front of her.
The store smells of sweet grains and animal medicine. Newfangled remedies we never relied on back in the day.
I pause at an aisle, taking in the labels.
“Antibiotics. Vitamins. Probiotics. Makes you wonder how a single, solitary animal survived before this day and age.”
“Kael Guthrie,” she huffs, lavender eyes rounding.
“Still here.”
She shakes her head, the creases in her forehead deepening. “If there’s any man I thought would end up in boot hill, it’s you. Lucky bastard.”
My hand goes reflexively to my abdomen, absent-mindedly rubbing a thumb over the cluster of round, raised scars. “Not lucky. Cursed.”
“To walk the Earth? Do with time what you please? There’s not a human in this town who wouldn’t give their life’s savings and half their belongings for more time.”
