by Lari Smythe
Chapter 25
Being hunted had kicked my senses up another notch and my body pulsed with anger. I imagined fighting my way through a coven of savage vampires to finally destroy Bella, but I knew that wasn't possible. I would have my hands full just destroying her. The prospect of luring her away from the others was going to be much more difficult now I suspected.
I stayed in the river for several miles before exiting on the opposite bank. There were cars passing by a short distance away, so I followed in their general direction until I got close to the road. I remained just within the tree line to conceal my presence. It wasn't long before I passed a sign that proclaimed I was approaching a town named Elma. After a deserted golf course, I spotted an antiquated gas station up ahead. It looked quiet enough so I took a chance.
"May I help you?" The grizzled man behind the counter said, through a toothless grin.
"I was hoping to find a map of the Olympic Peninsula."
"Yep, got that, three bucks." He nodded toward the far side of the store.
"Thanks."
"Is someone there?" A woman called from the back room. "Does they need gas?"
I slipped down the aisle and found the maps. Right on top—a map of the eastern part of the peninsula. I immediately recognized the name La Push that Alexander had mentioned—home of the Indian wolves—perfect.
"No they don't need no gas. She ain't got no car."
"They wants to paint their car? Paint's in aisle two."
"Woman can't hear a lick," the man said as I approached the counter.
I paid him with a soggy five dollar bill and told him to keep the change—what did I need it for? On the way out, I spotted a tow truck at the corner of the building and an idea popped into my head.
"Excuse me," I said, turning back to the man at the counter. "I noticed you have a tow truck."
"Yep, sure do. Is your car broken down?"
"Yes, I left it with friends. You wouldn't happen to know Bella Cullen would you?"
"Nope, name don't sound familiar."
The woman from the back appeared at the doorway. "Who she lookin' for?"
"Benny Cullen."
"No, Bella, Bella Cullen. Dark hair, she's a little shorter than me."
They both shook their head.
Maybe the man was like Tink. "She drives some sort of black sports car."
"A Benz AMG." The man nodded with apparent awe. "Stops in for gas once in awhile."
"Oh, the pretty girl, real pale that one, kinda like yourself," the woman added. "Always in a hurry that one."
"My car broke down at the Cullens. I was wondering if maybe you could tow it back here and fix it?"
"Where exactly is the Cullen's place."
There was a map on the wall and I pointed to the finger lake.
The man's face shriveled up. "That's a fer piece. I don't know with the price of gas and all."
"I'll make it worth your while." I tossed my backpack up on the counter again and pulled out my soggy wallet. "Would five hundred dollars do?"
Their eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
"Git off your lazy butt and go help the girl," the woman said.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll have to see if it'll start." He put on his coat and went outside.
"Could I borrow a pen and a piece of paper?" I asked the woman.
She stared, glancing down at my wallet.
"Oh, sure." I pulled out five one hundred dollar bills and put them in her hand.
She stuffed the bills in her apron and then tore off a sheet of paper from a pad and shoved it across the counter to me. "Pens over there." She nodded toward the register.
"Thanks."
"Tell him to lock up when you all leaves," she said as she returned to the back room.
"I will, and thanks again."
I spread out my map on the counter and quickly located Forks, then the Quileute Indian Reservation. It was further away than I anticipated, plus I had to wait for the old man to get to Bella. Okay, that was just time, the real problem was how close to the Indian Reservation could I get before the wolves would attack? I had to be close enough so that if I couldn't overpower Bella, at least the wolves would destroy us. Just south of the Quillayute River and slightly west of a sharp turn on Route 110, there was a distinct tree line on the edge of the Olympic National Park that formed a corner. If I were going to draw a boundary, I would use that. What looked to be an Appalachian sized mountain would give me a good view of her approach as long as I could make her use the car. If she came on foot, all bets were off. Ahhh, it seemed futile. How could I make her come? I could threaten to expose them—yes. The tow truck driver would be proof humans knew where they lived. So all I needed was a note.
You know who I am.
I know what you did.
Meet me outside of La Push where the treeline forms
a corner, west of Rt 110. Come in the black car and come
alone or I will expose your family. Be there,
tomorrow at midnight or you'll be sorry. Alone!
A little melodramatic, but short and to the point, that should do it. The door suddenly opened and the old man came in.
"Welp, all gassed up and ready to go." He held out his hand.
"Oh, I paid your wife."
"Dang, I was hopin' to get a new fishin' pole with some of that."
"Maybe you still can." I followed him outside and waited as he locked the door.
"How so?"
"Well," I handed him a one hundred dollar bill, "I want you to deliver a note for me."
"A note?"
We got in the truck and then pulled out on the road. I decided to go with him basically to make sure he made it. The truck groaned and complained as he nursed it along. I really doubted it could tow anything.
"You have to give it to my friend Bella, nobody else."
"Nothin' illegal is it?"
"Nope, just girl talk."
He didn't reply. The drive was painfully slow and I really didn't think the truck was going to make it over the mountains, but as we crested the second ridge, I recognized the valley.
"Ain't worth a hundred bucks ya know."
"It is to me."
"Alright then, so you wants me to give it to Bella, the pale dark haired girl, right?"
"Yes, no one else, only Bella."
"How'm I gonna do that ifin' somebody else is there?"
"You could say Bella called you for a tow, and that she needed to sign the paperwork one way or another. When she comes back to the truck, you could slip her the note."
He nodded. "Guess that outta work."
"Great, you can pull over here."
"Sumpin' wrong?"
"Nope, if I were going with you, there would be no need for the note would there?"
"Guess that makes sense." He scratched his head and pulled over to the shoulder. "Don't feel right leavin' you out here in the wilderness, you sure about this?"
"Absolutely, I'll be fine."
"Ya sure there ain't nothin' illegal about this?"
"Yep, perfectly legal. Good luck with your fishing."
"Thanks."
I slammed the door and he pulled off. The acrid, blue cloud of smoke reminded me of the ricers—no, I won't be distracted. I headed west toward La Push.