by Paul Sating
Jerry’s eyes lingered on her a moment longer and then he gave her a stiff nod. “You better learn to watch that smart mouth of yours. Your mother is obviously afraid to teach you respect but I’m not. The world ain’t either. You’re not even ready for what’s waiting for you out there. That world” —he pointed out toward the desert— “will eat you alive if you keep up this act.” Jerry shook his head.
A thousand responses brewed. She wouldn't put voice to them, regardless of how much he deserved to hear them because it was pointless. Everyone in the family had tried before he walked out on them, even Jerrod and Uncle Tony, who was the closest thing to a friend Jerry ever had, and none of it mattered to a man stuck in his ways.
They drove forward again. Relief grew with each rotation of the tires, even as they approached the Scales. Anything was better than a whimpering emotional death in front of the man she hated.
Serenity looked back at Jerrod, wishing she could ride in the bed too. His expression was neutral. To know the void inside that mind. Jerrod was always so weird about their father but that came from them being men or something. There were times she wished she could be as blind as Jerrod about their father.
Jerrod’s eyes changed, bringing life to his lackluster gaze. She turned, the Scales now filling her view. The unplanned piles and impromptu structures of scrap metal towered out of the desert floor. Bent, twisted, and rusted, they loomed over the brown landscape. The fear gripped her again. Scanning the sand, she waited for that creature to emerge.
“Can we stop here?” she asked.
“Why?” her father said without taking his eyes off the metal scraps spread out before them.
Why indeed? She was in such a rush to get away from the fighting, she hadn’t thought through driving into The Scales again. Now, her hands clamped closed involuntarily and deep in her stomach, the first feeling of queasiness returned. Soon, the nausea would follow.
The sun beat on the rusted metal. It hung so high in the sky that none of the structures cast shadows. The lack of darker hiding areas was only a temporary reprieve for Serenity. The creature hadn’t needed cover to attack her last time. At least, if the thing came back, they’d have plenty of warning.
“Where did you see this thing?” Jerry asked.
“Over there.” Serenity pointed toward the dune. “Don’t get too close.”
“Stop being silly,” Jerry said, gunning the aging engine and pulling alongside the dune on Serenity’s side. She clutched the hand-bar. If that thing popped out of the sand again, she’d be trapped between it and her father.
“Don’t!” Serenity didn’t mean to panic when Jerry shut off the Gator’s engine.
“What?”
She couldn’t show him how frightened she was. Her father already had an arsenal of reasons to ridicule her; she would not give him another.
Jerry swung out of the vehicle and moved around the front. If that thing popped out of the sand now, it was getting him first. Somehow, that made her feel lighter, as if it was less to worry about.
“It was over there.” Serenity jumped out on unsound legs. She refused to walk up to the dune, staying back and pointing at the general spot. “That’s where I first saw it.”
Jerry bent to inspect the area. He squinted and reached out to brush the top layers of sand. “Here?”
“Sort of.”
“Well, sort of doesn’t narrow it down for me.” Her father frowned. “Junior, is this where it was?”
“I don’t know, Pop,” Jerrod said, still in the Gator. “She saw it.”
“I thought you did too?” Jerry raised an eyebrow.
“I saw it…” Jerrod swallowed hard. “Come up out of the sand. Over there.” Jerrod pointed a few feet away where he had rescued Serenity.
Jerry narrowed his eyes, turning on her. Serenity stepped backwards.
“I thought you said it was here. Which one is it?”
She bit back the reply she wanted to give. “Both.” She pointed to where he was searching. “That is where I first saw it poking out of the sand. And that.” She swept her arm to the spot where they’d fled less than twenty-four hours ago. The tire marks were still visible. “Is where it circled me until Jerrod picked me up.”
Her father grunted and gave a curt nod in Jerrod’s direction before investigating the dune. When he finished, Jerry moved to the circle. He paced back and forth and then bent down, examining the tossed mounds of sand where Jerrod skidded to a halt. Jerry acted like an investigator, believing he was more than he was.
While he continued, Serenity stayed on watch for the creature. Jerrod did as well from the safety of the bed, standing to scan the mounds of dirt and twisted metal. They couldn’t do much, but having extra eyes on the sand would give them a good head start if their visitor returned.
“Nothing.” Jerry stood, wiping his hands on his pants. He didn’t even sound disappointed. “Let’s load up.”
They climbed back into the Gator. After Jerry started it, he rested his left arm on the steering wheel and knocked on the cage separating Jerrod from them. He waited until Jerrod turned around. “Listen, the two of you. I don’t know what you’re pulling, but I’m not falling for it. If this is some attention-getting stunt, it’s not funny. You’ve wasted a lot of my time. I had things to do today.”
“Pop, we’re not kidding,” Jerrod said.
“Well, there’s nothing here, no sign of anything…except for the two of you screwing around on the Gator, if those tracks are any hint. If you did something wrong, and that's why you made up this story, then keep it to yourselves from now on and don't be involving other people. Got it?” He floored the gas and pulled away.
With each passing yard toward Rotisserie, Serenity relaxed a little more, knowing The Scales was dropping farther into the background. She never wanted to see that waste yard or hear the incessant creaking of rusted hinges again.
Jerry slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “I cannot believe you! You’re supposed to be getting ready to be an adult. How many months do you have left of high school? And you don’t even have a job. If you can't be that responsible, how do you ever think you'll make it in college? Might not even be able to get into that community college in Logan's Grove. What are you going to do then, huh? I mean, what was the point of all this? To just stress me out or try to get me and your mother talkin’ again? Well, it’s not happening, I can guarantee you that!”
“But we—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Her father rocked back and forth.
He got like this from time to time. Serenity didn’t like what usually followed if he “was poked,” so she shut her mouth.
“You ain’t got nothing better to do than act like kids, running around out here, trying to drum up crazy tales about being chased by some monster? And your mother fell for it! She’ll believe anything the two of you come up with, I swear! No wonder you get away with murder. I’m gonna have a word with her when we get back.”
His voice matched the dull rumble of the Gator’s engine as Serenity let her mind wander where he couldn’t touch it—life after graduation, life in California. She smiled, her gaze dropping to the sands kicking up behind the tires. For a second, she thought she saw something in that spray of loose brown sand, like liquid metal.
Leaning out far enough that she almost slipped, Serenity tracked the spot as the Gator continued along the path home, searching for any sign of the creature, or any hint that she wasn’t seeing things. Nothing. But it had been there, and now it was gone, she was sure of it. But now she couldn’t be sure if it’d been there at all.
6
Standing on an immense slope underneath Sunrise Peaks, Serenity looked up and felt little. Underneath the immensity of the mountain peaks, she wondered how anyone could think the world revolved around them. This was a stunning place of perspective that reminded her how insignificant she was the second they unloaded from the pickup. How could she not with thousands of feet of rock above her? Serenity felt everythin
g inside expand as she absorbed the natural beauty of the mountainside. She would have to come back and hike someday, maybe even before leaving for Pepperdine. Ida couldn’t afford to take the trip this far out of town, and out of the Tri-Counties. Gas wasn’t cheap, and her part-time job at the grocery store that obliterated all her free time was a necessity created by Jerry Johnson’s inability to find a couple extra dollars in his bank account to help support the children he fathered. Ida’s job wasn’t flexible enough to accommodate family outings, not when it considered all part-time employees expendable. Rotisserie tethered her mother to its anchors. How many life experiences had she missed because she couldn’t explore the world around her, Serenity pondered as a wave of guilt washed over her.
Even at this elevation, she was forced to constantly wipe her forehead to ward off sweat rolling into her eyes. Serenity grabbed another sapling from the truck bed, carrying it to the round-up point. The group still needed to unload fifty saplings before they would start planting.
The stifling heat tried its hardest to convince her rescuing a dying patch of forest at the base of Warbler Mountain might not have been the best use of her volunteer time. But here she was, getting hours she desperately needed. Today was about focus.
“Here you go, sweetie.” Mitzie Carmichael offered a bottle of water, which Serenity graciously accepted from the project leader’s wrinkled hands. “It’s a doozy today, isn’t it?”
Serenity gave an exhausted smile. “I have to admit; I didn’t prepare for this.”
Mitzie was the type of short and stocky that projected dominance, all while wearing the warmest permanent smile Serenity had ever seen. The older woman rubbed Serenity’s hand. “Well, we’re glad you came out. People don’t seem too interested in volunteering these days, even adults. Any time we can get someone who cares about helping the environment, we’re happy to take it.”
Serenity casually tried to pull her hand away without making it awkward. She didn’t have the courage to admit to the real reason she volunteered. Not that she thought it would hurt Ms. Carmichael's feelings.
“Is everything okay, dear?” Mitzie’s eyes twinkled.
Shame flushed through her cheeks. “Oh, sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
Mitzie's warm smile hinted at a deeper knowledge. “Well, I’ll let you get to your thinking.” The older woman looked around at the jagged mountain peaks thousands of feet above them. “There’s not a better place in the Tri-Counties to do it. Give me a yell if you need anything.”
“I will. Thank you.” She picked up the sapling, committed to not think about Jerry or Ida today. Getting out of the house allowed her to take stress off her mind because she was, finally, satisfying graduation requirements. Getting out of the Tri-Counties was salvation.
One moment, relief, the next she’d run into an immovable force. Not an ‘it’, but a ‘who’. “I’m so sorry.” Serenity backed away, almost dropping the sapling, and looked into the hazel eyes of a guy she'd run into. He was about her age, over six feet tall, with light skin and close-cropped hair. She swallowed though her mouth was dry. “I’m such a klutz.”
“No problem.” He smiled, exposing perfectly aligned teeth. “I knew better than to get in your way. Unfortunately, I didn’t quite make it.”
“I swear, I didn’t see you.”
He shrugged. “I was kneeling, planting this little guy you almost trampled. When I saw you bearing down on us, it was him or me and, well, his life has just started. He’s got a lot to look forward to; I couldn’t deprive him of that. So, I took one for the team.”
An awkward, brief silence followed before she realized he was teasing her. An embarrassed laugh burst from her chest. He joined her, and her own laugh eased into something comfortable. She unfolded her hand from the sapling’s base and offered it to him. “I’m Serenity.”
His warm touch radiated up her arm. “Ricky. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Same.” She didn’t know what to say next. “I…I should go drop this off.”
Ricky stepped in front of the sapling he’d been planting. “I’ll just protect this one for a bit longer, in case you bump into him too.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.” That came out harsher than she intended.
“Oh hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” Serenity said. “It’s my fault. I’m distracted. School.” She shrugged, starting away. “Well, I’m going to get going.”
“Nice to meet you, Serenity,” Ricky said.
“You too,” she said without turning around in order to hide her goofy expression.
Her throat throbbed with her pulse. Ricky was the type of guy who was too hot for his own good. Leaving for Pepperdine, if everything fell into place, was going to save her from humiliating herself, for sure. Escaping the slow tedium of Rotisserie was a great way to avoid flirting with a guy out of her league, to experience new people, food, and cultures. But it would also be an effective way to abandon her mother to take care of everything.
Serenity shook her head. She didn’t have time for a relationship now. There wasn’t even enough time to figure out what she was going to do if Pepperdine fell through.
Malibu might as well be Madrid.
7
The expanse of open sky on this side of Warbler Mountain sucked the sound of the clanking gardening tools into the rocky wilderness. Even the calls from passing hawks disappeared as quickly as they were loosed. The small party of teenage volunteers and adult supervisors milled around pickup trucks as the tool collection continued.
Hours ago, they were strangers, now Serenity felt like she had a group of new friends. After spending an exhausting day working side by side, just chatting and getting to know others was refreshing. Some had even been to California. One man, Lance Webster, had been to Malibu and told her what she could expect. His memories sounded magical, making the bite of her life rooted here even more painful.
Throughout the day, she’d done a decent job of avoiding Ricky. The few times she did cross his path, she summoned the willpower to break off the conversation quickly. It was more difficult than it sounded, because every time they were within ten feet of each other she found it hard to think about the task at hand.
She wasn’t going to change her planned future over a gorgeous pair of hazel eyes. She wasn’t a damn middle school kid, even if Mother still treated her like one.
A shriek from a few hundred feet away interrupted her self-deprecation. From just out of sight down a steeper curve of the mountainside, it rose into the roasting late afternoon air. The kind of sound that made her teeth itch.
Serenity’s grip tightened on the shovel’s handle, unsure why she held it in the first place. For an eternity, everyone was inert. Then, one adult moved to action, others followed, dropping tools and water bottles and dashing toward the scream. A smattering of teen volunteers also ran to investigate. Serenity’s feet couldn’t move, like sandbags hung around her ankles.
That scream…
“Move,” a man yelled, eyes swelled to comical dimensions, pushing a teen out of his way and racing around the truck. At first, Serenity thought he was racing to get a tool to use as a weapon, but she’d misjudged. The man didn’t stop at the vehicle. Instead, he sprinted downhill as fast as he could, taking a tumble every few yards when the slope got too steep.
More voices raised in alarm and panic. Adults who had raced off toward the scream were now scrambling back in her direction, waving at panicked teens. One shouted for everyone to get to the vehicles. The people who arrived first dove into the truck cabins, rolling up windows, locking doors, or fumbling to get engines started. Her feet finally cooperating, she stepped toward whatever lay out of sight, holding the shovel aloft.
Then Mitzie was in front of her, blocking her way. “What are you doing, child? Get in the truck!” Blood covered the old volunteer’s hands. More stained her forest green t-shirt. A hideous pattern of red blotted out the organization’s insignia. Before Seren
ity could respond, Mitzie ushered her toward the truck bed, which was filling with other volunteers. Serenity resisted. Something unseen urged her to investigate. Within seconds, urge turned into a demand.
“What’s going on, Mi—” Her question cut off when strong fingers wrapped around her bicep. Serenity spun, raising the shovel and almost knocking Mitzie out. The older woman yelped just as Serenity came face to face with Ricky, the warmth was gone from his hazel eyes.
“Serenity,” he said, “we’ve got to go. Now.”
She heard his words, but their meaning was lost in the haze. Ricky tugged her. From behind, Mitzie pushed. Toward the truck, she went. Ricky lifted her by the waist into the bed before she could resist. He turned to Mitzie and did the same. Serenity offered a hand to steady the clearly shaken volunteer coordinator’s legs.
Ricky slammed the tailgate shut and, with an effortless motion, jumped in and pounded on the side panel. “Go!” he yelled to the driver, who spun the tires, kicking up dirt and rocks behind them as the truck gained purchase and sped away.
Tools and equipment rattled against the metal bed as they turned back down the mountain path. Nine bodies crammed together. Serenity studied the faces of those around her. Panic spotted each of them, wide eyes, mouths agape, knees bouncing to an uncoordinated rhythm.
She wanted to scream. “Please tell me what happened!” Serenity leaned toward Mitzie. Distant eyes turned toward Serenity. She’d never seen eyes shake before but Mitzie’s were. Her gaze darting left then right, Mitzie scanned the area suspiciously. Each glance at Serenity’s was ephemeral, looking, searching.
Reaching across the narrow gap, Serenity enclosed Mitzie’s wrinkled hands in her own, lightly rubbing them. The human touch snapped Mitzie out of her distant examination. She stared at Serenity’s hands.
Serenity asked in as soft a voice as she could to be heard over the ruckus of the truck, “What is going on?”
Lips trembling, the corners of Mitzie’s mouth turned down. Serenity waited as Mitzie struggled to form words, inhaling deeply to help smother her own sense of dread.