“But, Vi,” Iris said. “Maybe she can help us.”
“No,” Vi said. It was too dangerous. Sharing their secrets with a stranger. A college student. Someone they didn’t know or trust. A monster imposter.
“I can help you, but only if you tell me what you know,” Julia said. “Please.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Vi jumped in before Iris got a chance to blab anything else.
Julia blew out a frustrated breath. “You know what got me into journalism? I’ve got this idea, this belief, that the truth wants to be told. It’s always there, just beneath the surface or hidden deep in some locked-away box, calling to be let out.”
“I think you’re right,” Iris said. “I think—”
“We can’t help you,” Vi interrupted, giving Iris’s arm another warning, shut-the-hell-up twist. “We’ll get you back to the road, but that’s it. And if we catch you spying on us anymore, I’ll tell Gran.”
Lizzy
August 21, 2019
TIME TO GO.
Constable Pete had the book, the doll, and the gun. There was no doubt about it now: I was a suspect. Evidence gathered, he’d be returning at any minute with a team of state troopers to arrest me.
I was no good to poor Lauren if the state police dragged me down to the barracks for hours of questioning, for possible arrest.
Where did you get the doll, Miss Shelley?
I found it.
They’d never believe me.
Where did you say you grew up, Miss Shelley? Or is there another name we should use?
I felt the walls closing in.
The monster knew where I was.
Maybe she was watching me right now, studying my every move.
I scanned the trees surrounding my campsite. A few campsites down from mine, a father and son building a fire. A woman walked by on the camp road, a basset hound on a leash lagging behind her.
I disconnected the solar panel, took the chocks from behind the wheels. I tried to move slowly, act natural—just a tourist going out to explore the Green Mountain State.
I quickly got dressed, packed up the inside of the van, made sure everything was tucked away, latched or strapped down. I left the bed unmade.
I reached into my pocket, felt Gran’s lighter and the little pebble—the wishing stone.
The Monster gives the Monster Hunter a stone so she can make a wish.
What does the hunter wish for?
What did I wish for?
I wrapped my fingers around the stone. “That I find you before you find me,” I whispered.
I settled into the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition and turned it.
Nothing happened.
No comforting hum of the engine, just a sad cough, then nothing.
I tried again.
Shit.
I jumped out, popped the hood, checked the connections. Didn’t see anything unusual.
I got back in and tried it again.
My eyes searched the dashboard. Then I saw it: the fuel gauge. The needle was at empty.
It didn’t make sense.
I knew damn well I’d had nearly half a tank of gas yesterday.
I hopped out of the van again, got down on my belly to peer underneath, checking for a leak. Nothing.
I pushed myself up, looked around. Had another camper siphoned my gas? Someone who needed a little extra for their generator maybe? It seemed unlikely, but I didn’t want to think about the alternatives.