Chapter #10The Watchers On The Road by: imaj   “You and Frank,” says Rosalie
“Amanda and Jon you mean,” you say, smiling weakly at Frank. He rolls his eyes.
“Yes,” giggles Rosalie. “Amanda and Jon. It’s just going to be reconnaissance work though. I want an idea of what defences Grandma Shabbleman has in place.”
“Got it,” says Frank
“Good,” replies Rosalie. “Goodnight then.” You hear some muffled sounds in the background through the line. “Stop that,” says Rosalie, clearly not intending to talk to you and Frank. There is a click and the line goes silent.
“Typical,” mutters Frank, climbing into his sleeping bag.
You put a slim hand on his shoulder. “Wait,” you squeak nervously. Frank stops and twists to get a better look at you. You reach down and slowly peel off your tee, revealing Amanda’s pale flesh. Looking down at yourself you see smallish breasts nestled inside a plain cotton bra and a thin, almost bony, body. You look back at Frank, staring into his eyes.
Frank curls his lip. “Why are you doing this,” he asks, an undercurrent of menace in his voice.
“Because I want…” you blurt out without thinking. “I want my cover to be unbreakable,” you explain. Only now do you notice the slight build up in the air that signifies Lurga at work. “You used your prodigies on me!”
“Sorry,” sighs Frank, reigning in his anger. “Is this really about your cover as this girl,” he asks, pointing at you.
“It is. When we go into Cuthbert tomorrow we have to convince the people we meet that Amanda and Jon are together. Newly together and still nervous about each other, but still: together,” you explain. “It has to be convincing. This is the easiest way to make it convincing. Especially for you. I’m more used to playing a role like this, but one slip up from either of us could give the game away.”
“So we have to, you know,” he asks, waving a finger backwards and forwards between the two of you.
“It would help,” you answer, almost convincing yourself. “If you’re worried about it being your first time…”
“It’s not,” interrupts Frank hotly, his cheeks colouring with anger.
No it’s not. You know that much. “I mean it’ll be Jon’s,” you whimper, soothing Frank’s rage. “Amanda’s too.” You stare at the ground for a few seconds, immersed entirely in the Amanda persona you have created.
A tear forms in one of your eyes. Frank reaches out and brushes it away carefully. As he pulls his hand back, you make him pause by grabbing hold of his arm. You pull it downwards and press his hands against one of your breasts. Frank doesn’t notice as you swirl his emotions, invoking a little storm of passion. Why would he? Your touch with Eldibria is so gentle and assured, learned from Maria Cardozo, that it barely registers to even the most sensitive of adepts. You’d feel guilt except for the fact he just tried to do something similar to you. Besides, it will help secure your cover when you visit Cuthbert tomorrow.
Frank lifts his other hand and places it beside the first, mashing clumsily at your chest. “Are you sure about this,” he asks. You make your reply by shuffling closer and kissing him full on the lips. There is just the slightest hint of a metallic taste in his mouth.
He pulls you over to his sleeping bag. It is just big enough for both of you to climb inside together. The tight confines press you both together and you can feel his growing erection pressing into your side. You both roll over inside the sleeping bag until Frank is on top of you. He holds you in place, your arms pinned to the ground as he takes off his own shirt.
You struggle to move your arms, even though there is nothing holding them. “No prodigies,” you say. “Jon doesn’t have any.”
Frank grunts in surprise and the pressure holding you down fades away. You hook your arms round his neck and pull his face close to your own as his hands work their way down your body towards your panties.
“This is just to be in character,” says Frank as his cock slips inside you. You moan in appreciation. You don’t care anymore.
*****
You tap your fingers on the truck door as Frank drives it along. He’s being careful, taking the switchback corners that wind their way up the mountains slowly. Heavy clouds fill the sky and little flecks of snow occasionally hit the road, lying their briefly for a few moments before melting. At least it’s warm in the truck, although you have a thick jacket sitting in the back for when you reach Cuthbert.
You’ve been there before, you realise. A long time ago, when you were much younger, you had been dragged up there along with the rest of your family. You have no real memories of the trip, and on reflection you suspect that’s because you’ve blocked them out. Settling into some of the exercises Kali taught you only gives you brief glimpses of the lost memories.
Vague memories of the ‘cousins’ and ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles’ surface: The ugly faces, the odd way so many of them carried themselves and the grinding poverty of the place return to you. It causes you to shudder involuntarily. It had been worse as a child, and worse still for your brother Robert. He spent the trip howling in fear and horror until your parents had cut it short.
No, you remember very little of Cuthbert, but as you look out the truck window at the bare mountainside and the smattering of evergreen trees that cling stubbornly to it, you realise that you are close now. Frank takes one last, slow turn that reveals a shabby looking building at the side of the road.
It’s a gas station, although the term has to be used very loosely. A lone rusting pump sits outside a building that is barely one step above a shack. You take a closer look as Frank pulls in beside the bump, running over a tattered cable that has been laid out across the rough ground.
The gas station is built from wood and corrugated steel. A little shack for the station proper and a large shed for working on cars. Both parts might have been painted brightly once, but now the paint is faded and peeling. Large, but almost invisible now, letters on the side of the building read ‘Cuthbert’. Naked patches of wood show signs of rotting away. Unbidden, Eldibria bubbles to the surface of your thoughts.
The gas station seems more ominous now, the rot more widespread, the shadows deeper and darker. Without doubt this is place where dark deeds have happened. It feels deeply wrong and you recoil in horror.
“What is it Wi… Amanda,” asks Frank, spotting the change in your demeanour. “Is something wrong?”
You shush him by placing your hand round his forearm. Sitting atop the gas pump, something slick, greasy and entirely ethereal regards you with half a dozen bulbous eyes. Its attention flickers between you and Frank for a few seconds.
Your concentration is broken by a rapping at the driver side window. A skeletal looking man, one shoulder higher than the other, leans at the window. Your Amanda-self can’t help but recoil in disgust when you see his face is a disfigured mess of weird looking bumps.
Frank rolls down the window. "Fill 'er up and getchew on yewr way,” asks the man. He smoothes at his matted hair before squinting at you and Frank suspiciously. You shrink further back into your seat.
“Thanks,” answers Frank
You watch in disgust as the man shuffles over to the gas pump. He turns it on with a click and carries the nozzle back to the truck. The pump clanks as it starts feeding gas into the truck. Numbers spin round on mechanical dials.
“We’re staying in the campsite in the Drury Hills,” says Frank in a friendly way. The attendant does not respond. After a minute or so Frank continues. “We thought we’d managed to get ourselves lost…”
"Yew wanna get unlost, yew kin aw-ways turn aroun' an' come back a' way yew came," interrupts the man.
“We were running low of gas,” says Frank by way of explanation. He makes a show of looking at the faded letters painted onto the side of the building. “Is this Cuthbert,” he asks. No response. “Is there somewhere we can eat here,” asks Frank. “The truck isn’t the only one low on gas,” he laughs.
The ratchety sound of the gas pump falls silent and the attendant turns to face Frank. He chews on something thoughtfully for a few seconds. “Shore, Zach’s Fish Fry,” answers the man. "Up a' road, take Fifth into town, left on Main. Yew can't miss it."
“Thanks again,” says Frank, reaching for his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
“Thirty-four seventeen,” answers the attendant. Frank hands him a wad of notes and he shuffles back inside the decaying building, wincing as he climbs the two steps up to the door.
You glance at the top of the pump. The creature seems to have crawled off from it, or maybe you just can’t see it any more. You turn to look at the gas station. The man left the door open and you can see right in to where he is bent over a phone.
You remember something Rosalie said: The whole town would be against you. That’s what the gas station attendant is doing – letting someone know strangers are on their way into Cuthbert. But that is as much an opportunity as a danger. If all of Cuthbert is set against you, then every single person knows something that might be of use to you too. If you could just grab the attendant’s memories you would have your first bit of information.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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