Page 19 of Maneater

He wants to talk to me again? That has to be a positive sign.

If the stars are aligned and the forest gods look favorably upon me, then it seems as if I’ve dodged a potential hunter’s bullet. I only hope Darien doesn’t change his mind about keeping my secret.

Chapter Seven

Darien

To say the day has been weird is the understatement of the century. I’m grateful to be alive, and thankful Rex was there to rescue me. However, something was off. I can’t quite wrap my brain around what it is, but Rex seemed oddly evasive about the whole incident.

The only thing I can think of that makes sense is that he’s protecting the creature. His menagerie of critters, and how he obviously loves and cares for them, could explain why he was defending the creature so vehemently. And also why he seemed so terrified I might report the beast.

I pull alongside the market in my designated parking area, noting that the store is already closed. Despite it already being tourist season, Virgil doesn’t stay open past five. Once summer is in full swing, he’s here until seven on Fridays and Saturdays to accommodate the campers. One of the primary reasons he needs my help is that running the store from eight to seven is becoming too much for him.

I check my watch, and sure enough, it explains why the market is closed. Rex told me I was out for almost two hours. I must’ve hit my head or something when I fell. I wish I could remember everything, but it’s a total blank.

Anyway, I hope Virgil didn’t worry about me. For some reason, there was a complete dead zone in cell coverage at Rex’s place. At first, I thought it was the cave—speaking of weird—but I had the same issue in the woods surrounding his place. By the time he took me back to my Jeep, all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there.

As I climb out of my vehicle, lugging my pack with me, I note that Virgil’s old beat-up panel truck is still there, parked behind the store. He’s probably either loading or unloading items. A twinge of guilt hits me.

That’s also supposed to be my job: assisting him with any heavy lifting. Even though I had the day off, I hope he didn’t overdo it.

I trot toward his truck so I can finish the job in case he really is lifting boxes. But I also have selfish reasons to be glad he hasn’t left yet. As I was driving back from my adventure, mulling everything over in my mind, I was hoping I’d catch him before he left. If anyone has knowledge of strange local creatures or mysterious legends about the park, it would be him.

“Well now, there ya are.”

I almost jump out of my skin as Virgil emerges from the shadows near the tiny dumpster, sucking on a cigarette.

“Hey…”

I can barely push out the one word, what with my heart and breathing jacked up like a rabbit being chased by a wolf. Or a gargantuan hairy monster. I tilt my head as the fact that Virgil is smoking registers. He must’ve noticed my confusion, because he holds up the half-burned stick with a chuckle.

“I know, I know. Flies in the face of my stance on all-natural, health-conscious living.” He lets out a series of ragged coughs. “Kicked the habit years ago, but every once in a while I give in.” He wrinkles his nose as he regards the cigarette. “Gosh, can’t remember the last time I indulged. Judging from how stale this one is, I’d say a few years at least.” Virgil shrugs and takes a deep drag. “Don’t worry, I never smoke inside.”

“Oh, sure, I figured.” I give him a weak smile. Under normal circumstances, I’d chat about nothing with him, but nothing about my day has been normal. “Um, do you need any help taking stuff in, or anything like that?”

“It’s your day off, son. Not your problem.” He chuckles again. “And anyway, there’s nothing left to do. I have the truck back here so no one thinks I’m still available to let them in after hours.” Virgil lifts up his now stubby cigarette. “Looks like something’s on your mind. It’s gettin’ chilly out here, so why don’t we take this chit-chat inside?”

“I’m not keeping you from anything?”

I don’t want him to worry that I’m going to be nothing but a pain in the ass.

“Nah.” He gestures for me to follow him. “I ain’t got nothing to do.” He barks out a laugh. “The last time I rushed to get home was to give the back deck a vinegar wash. Ooh-wee. That was a big thrill.”

“Oh, okay. I didn’t want to be a bother.”

I’m happy he can stay and talk, but also a little sad that he has no one at home. I haven’t been around him or the store long enough to know much about his personal life.

“I’ve noticed that about you,” he says as we go inside.

I tense. Oh man, maybe I’m a pain in the ass after all. “Notice what?”

“You worry too much about what others think of you, are afraid of stepping on toes.” He peers over his shoulder as we enter the public area of the shop. “You’re afraid to ask for what you want. Always remember, if you don’t ask, you’ll never know if you could’ve had it.”

His observation gives me pause as he drags a chair over to one of the two snack tables by the window that looks out onto the highway. They had already been put up for the evening, so I do the same.

Virgil doesn’t sit down, though. “You hungry? Cause I am.”

His question makes me realize I’m ravenous. It’s been a while since the protein bar, and my apple was sacrificed to the creek when… I shiver. I’m sure I’ll be seeing those bared fangs and hearing that horrible hissing sound in my nightmares for a while.