In an act of desperation, Adam once again pulled out the WD-40 and began spraying the bolt down before hitting it with a hammer.
“If this thing doesn’t go soon, I swear I’m pulling out the cutting torch Henry.”
Henry, a Clint Eastwood looking old man, shook his head as he continued to rotate a tire. The guy was working on a brand new Ford Taurus. Adam could only dream about such an easy job.
It took a half hour and sticking a pipe over his wrench to get the stupid bolt to finally go. When it did, the wrench slipped off and Adam smashed his knuckles on the engine block.
“Fuuuuuuck,” Adam groaned through clenched teeth.
“Hey look, the princess finally got one,” said Barry, an overweight mechanic with a buzz cut and goatee.
“Keep switching out spark plugs jackass,” said Adam, shaking out his hand.
Counting Adam and Barry, there were usually a good six mechanics all working at once in Henry’s Auto Parts. They generally worked well together, especially when they partook in the common hobby of ragging on Adam.
The second youngest after Adam was Barry. He was twenty-six and just old enough to slip under the radar when everybody was giving Adam a hard time.
Adam was a good sport and didn’t mind getting ripped on. He knew the older guys were always there when he needed help, so he took whatever they could dish out. None of it was personal.
Barry wound up and threw one of the spark plugs when no one was looking. The plug bounced off the Civic’s engine narrowly missing Adam’s hand.
Adam recoiled in surprise.
“One of these times I swear I’m going to hit you with a hammer,” he said.
Barry just laughed. “Come on, you and I both know I’m too soft for that. The hammer’d just sink in.”
“True,” said Adam. “And there’s nothing in your head so that wouldn’t hurt you either.”
“I’m willing to bet there’s some air in there for you to beat out,” he gave a little chuckle. “Some would say hot air.”
“That and alcohol fumes.”
Barry cocked his head. “That reminds me, you coming over tonight? I’m having a Walking Dead marathon on Netflix.”
“I would,” said Adam. “But I’m not.”
“You’re missing The Walking Dead on purpose?”
“I guess. My mom said she had big dinner plans and I don’t think she’d be too happy if I missed it.”
“Well screw you then.”
“Suck a dick Barry.”
It was almost a full three hours before work finished for the day. In that time Adam managed to get pretty deep into the engine before realizing the car only needed a new distributor cap. Had he known that in the first place, he could have saved himself a few hours. He was kicking himself when he figured it out.
It made him feel all the better to be leaving for the day.
His home was in the trailer park two miles down the road. It was perhaps the cruddiest place in all of Dinwiddie Virginia. Most of the trailers were falling apart and garbage was strewn across the street. He hated it.
Large silver letters read “Open Ridge” on the brick wall near the entrance.
Adam’s dad had left when he was eight and his mom could no longer keep up with their bills. With little other option, they were forced to move into Open Ridge. They’d lived there for fifteen years.
Adam parked his black QLINK XP 200 motorcycle out front. It wasn’t an expensive bike, but considering how low his last bank statement was, he took what he could get. The thing wasn’t much more than a street legal dirt bike.
He climbed off and headed into his mom’s doublewide. The trailer had a small driveway and vibrant purple curtains that made it stand out against the other bland colorless trailers. They took good care of the place, he and his mom. They didn’t have much between the two of them, but what they did have they strived to make better.
When he got inside, he spotted Carl, their longtime neighbor and his mom’s current fling. He was on the couch, watching the big screen Adam had bought.
“Where’s my mom?” Adam asked when Carl clearly wasn’t going to address him.
“Out,” Carl said. He was a burly man with a prominent five a clock shadow where his mustache should be. He was at least a hundred pounds overweight and had a trucker’s hat permanently stuck on his head. Adam could rarely think of a time when the guy ever got off the couch, and that was including to go to work.
“Out where?”
“Getting groceries or something, hell I don’t know. Why don’t you try and call her?”
Because I might accidentally call the cops and tell them there's a strange man in my living room. Adam bit back the thought and headed into his bedroom to grab some clothes for after the shower.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Adam observed how much his body had changed since working at the auto shop. He had filled out, his body growing thicker and his muscles more defined. He had to shave almost daily now. Even his chest was getting hairy, though he had mixed feelings about that. His freakishly blue eyes were still as bright as ever and the freckles under his eyes were still there. His crooked smile had survived too, even after a few bar fights (most of which were instigated by Barry). He hadn’t grown any taller which was disappointing because it meant being stuck teetering on the edge of six feet. He still had his boyish charm, only now he was more of a man. He was becoming a little harder around the edges. He could converse better with older people and feel like they weren't looking down on him. He was also obtaining a better grasp of how life worked. He could be more realistic with his expectations. In turn he could plan for the future better.
By the time Adam got out of the shower, his mom was home and cooking dinner. Judging by the smell, it was hamburgers.
“You’re home,” said his mom, a slightly overweight woman in her forties. She was always cheery and just seeing her could make him smile.
“Been here for a good half hour Mom.”
“Really? I must’ve just missed you when you got in.”
Adam felt a slight disappointment as he realized she was making spaghetti. Not that he hated spaghetti; his heart was just set on hamburgers.
“So how was your day?” She asked.
“Not bad. The older lady from two streets over, Mrs. Howell brought in that old car of hers. I spent almost half a day working on that stupid thing. I think the only real fix would be for her to get a new car.”
“Probably,” said his mom. “But money doesn’t grow on trees you know.”
“Speaking of which,” said Carl from the couch. “Your rent’s due.”
Adam clenched his jaw. It wasn’t paying rent that pissed him off, it was Carl asking for it. The guy probably wanted the money for himself so he could go gambling. It was none of his business. Adam’s rent was strictly for bills and between him and his mom.
“You don’t even live here.”
“Watch your mouth.”
“You watch your mouth, this is my house.”
“Boys,” said his mom. “That’s enough.”
“You’re just going to stand there and let him talk to me like that?” asked Carl.
“I’ll talk to you however the fuck I want.”
“Adam!” said his mom.
Carl stood up from the couch. “You little shit.”
“Keep talking to me like I’m a little kid, see what happens.”
So far Adam had been pretty good about holding his tongue when it came to Carl. He usually just shrugged it off and left the room. Most of the time Carl didn’t even bother him; they both kept to themselves. Still, the man had been living in his house and treating him like a kid for almost four months. Adam could only be expected to take so much shit before he snapped.
“Don’t test me boy.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” asked Adam.
Carl was coming at him, and his mom was screaming something from behind. A red haze blurred out his vision and the thumping heartbeat
in his ears blocked him from hearing her screams. Adam wasn’t normally a fighter, but he wanted this.
“I’m gonna teach you the lesson you should’ve learned when you were a kid.”
“And what’s that fat ass?”
Carl took a swing that caught Adam on the cheek. Adam went down, momentarily dazed. He wound up on his back, though he wasn’t exactly sure how. He couldn’t believe the asshole sucker punched him.
Sensing that Carl was coming for more, Adam rolled into a crouch. He was still dizzy as he dove forward, taking Carl down into a corner table and knocking over a lamp. The cord was yanked from the wall and as it hit the floor the light bulb shattered.
Adam got back to his knees and began punching down with his right hand. Carl curled into a ball on the ground and began to scream.
“He’s killing me! He’s killing me!”
Adam ignored his cries, striking him three times in the ribs before switching back to his head. He hated Carl and could have kept punching until his knuckles bled.
Before he could reach that point his mom grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. Seeing his mom’s face snapped Adam out of the blind rage.
The fight left him just as fast as it had come.
“No Adam, stop. Please, stop!” She was crying.
Adam stood up while Carl stayed curled in a ball on the floor. The surrounding trailer came back into focus and he was ashamed at what he saw.
The living room was trashed. The corner table was missing a leg and the lamp was in pieces. A stack of DVD’s had been knocked over and scattered everywhere.
His mother continued to cry and the sound was making him sick to his stomach. Knowing he had caused those sobs was unbearable.
Adam took a step back, his breaths coming heavy. He knew he couldn’t stay there; Carl would surely call the cops if he did. What would his mom do? Would she tell him to leave and never come back? That’s the type of thing that happened in movies.
No, I won’t be here for that, he thought.
As Adam backed towards the door, his mom fell to her knees next to Carl.
“I’m sorry mom, I’m sorry,” he said, but she didn’t seem to hear.
When he reached the front door, he opened it and slipped out. The last thing he saw was his mom kneeling over Carl, she was crying.
Chapter 3
“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going yet?” asked Tim.
Sarah used the overhead mirror to pluck a few stray hairs from her eyebrows. “If you can’t figure it out, then you don’t deserve to know.”
“Except for the fact that I’m driving…”
“Barely, why don’t you stop looking over at me and watch the road?”
“Sometimes I swear, you’re the single most annoying girl in the world. Seriously, why do I let you talk me into these things?”
“Because I’m your big sister and you look up to me? Also, you just got your license and are dying for any excuse to drive.”
“It’s the second one.”
Sarah looked over and scowled. “Don’t kid yourself, you look up to me.”
Tim rolled his eyes.
“Oh, here. Turn left here!”
Tim hit the brakes and the old car slid across the gravel for a few feet before he turned left.
Sarah wished they could play the radio, but unfortunately that wasn’t an option. Her dad had disconnected it the day her brother got his license, which sucked big time for her because the car was half hers.
They were coming up to a bridge when Sarah yelled for her brother to stop the car. He slammed on the brakes, sending them into a skid. She shot him a look of annoyance once they came to a stop.
“This is it,” she said.
“This is what?” he asked, but she was already out and slamming her door.
Sarah pulled the hair tie out and slipped it onto her wrist, letting her light brown hair fan out.
At eighteen years old a lot of people would say Sarah was a good-looking girl. She wasn’t overweight, but she was by no means a beanpole. She would never say it out loud, but she thoroughly believed she needed to lose weight even though no one would agree with her if she said so. Sarah would chalk it up to them being polite.
She kept a few sundresses in her drawer, but her go to outfit was sweatpants and a tank top. At that moment, she was wearing her faded blue jeans with a black T-shirt.
Her brother on the other hand was still scrawny and young. He was pimply faced and no matter how much she hated it, would not stop parting his dark black hair to one side.
“Seriously, what are we doing here?”
“Going for a dip, dipstick.”
Tim got out of the car and began walking behind her. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and chewed on the nail, a nervous tick he had. She always told him it would make him sick, but he did it anyways.
Two miles down Old Gregory Road was a wooden bridge. It crossed over the canal that connected the two parts of Bishop Lake and was pretty high up. From atop the bridge was a beautiful view of tree-lined banks and rippling water. The only thing that dampened the scenery was the graffiti that kept popping up all over the bridge. The county did its best to paint over it, but it always crept up again year after year.
Sarah grabbed the railing and climbed on top. Her heart rate doubled. The wind whipped her hair in her eyes. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry.
“Are you crazy?” asked Tim.
“Whoa,” said Sarah as she teetered on the edge.
“Get down Sarah!”
“It’s not that bad,” she said even though she felt short of breath.
She stared down at the water that looked so much farther away than she had expected it to. A wave of vertigo swept over her.
“Seriously,” her brother pleaded.
“It’s fine Timmy, other people do this all the time. I heard them talking about it back at school.”
“The ones with brain damage maybe.” He kept his distance from the edge, as if she might fall if he got too close.
Sarah’s phone went off, making her almost jump out of her skin. It turned out to be a good thing because she’d completely forgotten it was in her pocket.
She looked at the number and saw it was her mother. She hit the silence button and set the phone down on the railing. There was a time for her mother to nag, but it wasn’t right then. Her mother's authority could wait.
“Can we go now please?” Tim begged.
“Almost, I just have to do one thing first.”
Sarah worked up every ounce of confidence she could muster and plugged her nose with one hand. It was a long ways down and she planned to plummet every foot of it. She leaped before she could talk herself off the ledge.
Gravity took over and her stomach soared. For a moment she had no thoughts, only the feeling of falling. She could forget about being a straight-A student, or being called a prude by all the guys who liked her. She could forget all the crushes that never panned out, or the friends who left her because she never partied. In that moment she was a daredevil, the most interesting person on earth.
It was over in an instant and she was plunged into the cold, dark water. It consumed her, drenching her body and soaking her clothes.
She made it to the surface in time to hear her brother calling her an idiot.
She responded with an adrenaline-charged scream of victory.
Chapter 4
Darkwood military base, WA - July 1st
Major General Smith was quite the intimidating figure in his uniform. With his strong posture, angry scowl and piercing eyes, he could make even the most confident man squirm.
Dr. Bennet sank back from his gaze. He felt a small ping of nervousness and fidgeted in his chair.
The office they were in was small and made him feel trapped. He was beginning to dream for the moment when he would be free to go back out into the air.
What the hell am I getting myself into? he wondered.
“By signing this paper you a
gree that everything you see while at this facility is strictly top secret. Therefore, you may not at any time or for any reason discuss the things you see here.” Smith slid a piece of paper across the desk.
Dr. Bennet cracked his fingers and then signed it. He silently prayed he wasn’t signing his life away.
“Very well,” said Smith, standing up from his desk. “If you will be so kind as to follow me, I’ll take you to where you need to be.”
Bennet tucked his reading glasses into the pocket of his dress shirt and stood up to follow the General. The man was holding his office door open and waiting. When Bennet got close, Smith turned and took the lead.
It was warm and muggy outside and the grass between the buildings was wet from it raining all morning. The sky was still cloudy and on the verge of opening up again. The base was an easy place to get lost in. Every building was made out of the same gray bricks and lined up in no particular order. On foot, it felt like the place went on forever. Only the barbed wire a ways off on their left reminded Dr. Bennet that there were boundaries. It helped keep him grounded as they walked through the maze of buildings.
Every soldier who walked by saluted Smith before they moved on. At first Dr. Bennet was saluting back, but eventually he felt foolish and stopped. Their salutes were for the General, not him.
They went three blocks before Bennet mustered the courage to speak. “Why exactly am I here…uh, Sir?”
“Because we have a job that requires your specific expertise.”
“Right, I understand that, but what is it that you need done exactly?”
Smith glanced behind them. “You’re perhaps the only Cryptozoologist with any credibility to your name. In your medical book, the Science of Myth you explain in detail how it could be possible for certain aspects of mythical creatures to exist in the physical world. Your explanations and drawings of these creature’s anatomies are detailed to say the least. Also, your comparisons to known living creatures are extremely thought provoking.”
“You’ve read my book?”
“Yes, your comparisons between dinosaurs and dragons were quite interesting to me.”
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