by Voss, Deja
She nods. “I’m sure it’ll be no problem. What’s your name again?”
“Whatever you want. Whatever makes you feel most comfortable,” I say. “I promise I won’t hurt him. I’m not in trouble. I’m just hiding.”
“I believe you,” she says. “I have a good intuition about me. People are my job. You meet me out back at 3 p.m. and I’ll make sure you’re situated.”
“Thanks, Betsy.” I smile. I take a sip from the coffee and then slide out of the booth, leaving another hundred on the table as a tip, and she just watches with her mouth open.
My phone rings in my pocket and I fish it out. Max. I swear that guy has a sixth sense.
“I have to take this,” I tell her. “See you later.”
She’s still standing there speechless, clutching onto the money like she just hit the damn lottery.
“Brother, you having fun out there? I think I’m gonna hop on the plane and pay you a visit. I just realized I’ve never gotten a disorderly conduct in Washington. I think I want to check it off on my map.”
“Whatever you want, Max,” I laugh. Even if he takes off right now, I’m gonna be long gone before he can even have a chance to find me. Knowing Max, he won’t need me around to work on his bucket list.
* * *
“So who’d you kill,” the guy with the dark sunglasses and long dreadlocks asks, talking at me in the rearview mirror. “You murder your old lady or something?”
I smile and shake my head. “You think I’d tell you if that was the case?” I ask him.
“Leave him alone, Tony,” the girl in the front seat whines. She’s a tiny thing with bleached blonde hair and long hot pink fingernails that she’s been using to tap away on her phone since the second I got in the car. Totally disinterested, totally absorbed in her own thing. The exact kind of person I want to do business with right now.
“I’m just curious what kind of person would pay us five thousand bucks for a ride when they could just get on a plane. Somebody looking for you?”
“Do you want the money?” I ask. “You can let me out here if you want.”
“I’m just messing with you, man,” he says. “I really don’t give a fuck. If Aunt Betsy says you’re cool, you’re good in my book.”
I know it’s probably not the smartest choice I’ve ever made in my life, getting in a car with these two complete strangers, but I’m a fairly tough guy. I stay in good shape and I can hold my own. Desperation for freedom calls for desperate measures, and riding in the back of this shitty 1980s Crown Victoria is pretty much just that.
“You want a hit?” he asks, lighting up a joint.
“I’m good,” I assure him. I’m not afraid to party, but I need to make sure I keep my wits about me until I get to where we’re going. “You cool to do that and drive?”
“Oh, honey,” the girl says. “If he wasn’t doing that, I’d be concerned. Keeps him focused.”
“Yeah,” he says. “You don’t have anything to worry about. We’ll get you to Montana in one piece. You just gotta trust my process.”
“Fuck it.” I’ll keep an eye out, and if things get weird I can always just get out and start my journey all over again.
I’m pleasantly surprised at how the hours are flying by with these two. They’re not bad people, just different than me. Kelly is a hairdresser and Tony is chronically unemployed, but they seem pretty happy with their life choices. Who am I to judge? I’m a billionaire on the lam and I can’t even say the same for myself, at least not all the time.
We drive through the night, Kelly and Tony switching off every few hours, and as the sun is rising over the mountains of Colorado, our casual banter is turning into yawns dotted with silence. Tony’s playing with the air conditioner, rolling the windows down, flipping through music. I can tell he’s struggling to stay awake.
“If you guys want to stop somewhere, I’ll pay for a hotel,” I say. “Your pick.”
“We’ll be in Creede in a few hours. We can figure it out from there,” he says. Kelly is curled up in the front seat, snoring softly, and I too am fighting my eyelids.
I try desperately to keep my eyes open, but the hum of the tires and the curve of the road lull me into a place of near exhaustion. I close my eyes and hope for the best.
Chapter Four
Molly:
If I had to pick a place to settle down, if I had to choose anywhere I’ve ever visited in this great country, I think I’ve found that spot. Life in the mountains is so simple. The scenery is beautiful and the people all feel like old friends to me. I’ve really hit my stride here.
In between rattling off short little articles about how to lose ten pounds before that wedding next weekend and reviewing all the local restaurants, I’ve had tons of time to explore the hiking trails with Dolly. I’ve even made some friends to share a beer or three with. This place is great, but I know if I’m going to find my next big story, my next critical life-changing humanitarian project, it’s not going to be here.
Everything is just too perfect. Everyone seems to be thriving in this artsy little town.
“Molly!” Cheryl waves at me from the cafe table. She’s wearing a white linen dress that swallows her petite little body whole, a bright red flower tucked in her fiery red hair. I can smell the weed and patchouli, her signature fragrance, from the other side of the room. I met Cheryl at one of the yoga classes she teaches, and we became fast friends. There’s a Bloody Mary waiting for me at the table, and I smile.
“How did you guess?” I laugh, smoothing my maxi dress before sitting down.
“Sorry. You might be a wild woman, but you’re highly predictable. Brunch at Benny’s is always Bloody Marys.” This is crazy to me. In all the years I’ve been out on the road, I’ve never found myself settling long enough to have a “regular” spot, to have regular drinks, with consistent friends.
“Watermelon feta confit?” the waiter, Mark, asks, sliding a plate in front of me. Mark’s one of my favorite friends I’ve met here. Good-looking, knows everyone and everything about the town, and he plays for the other team, so nights out with him are basically like hanging out with my older brother. I don’t have to worry about anything. We can drink and dance and he sees me to the door of my bus without expecting anything in return. Not that all guys are dogs, but when you’re a girl traveling alone, you tend to see a lot of ugly.
“Seriously, guys? What if I wanted to order something else.”
“Did you?” Mark asks, grinning ear to ear.
“Put it down,” I sigh. “No. This is perfect. Thank you.”
“Sorry I’m running late,” I tell Cheryl, taking a sip from my cocktail. “I am trying to figure out where I want to go from here. My agent is bugging me for something of a little more substance and ‘best Bloody Marys in small town Colorado’ just isn’t cutting it. Fun. Delicious. But not what gets us both paid.”
“That’s a bummer,” Cheryl pouts. “We like having you around.”
“Find me a story that’ll rattle some chains, Cheryl, and I’m yours. Otherwise, I gotta get moving,” I sigh.
“I think I might have an idea for you,” Mark suggests. “A story no journalist has ever been able to crack as long as I’ve been around.”
“Well color me intrigued,” I say, taking a green olive from my Bloody Mary and popping it into my mouth.
“Counterculture in the current climate of America. People who willingly choose to be homeless. Modern-day Robin Hoods running wild and free in the mountains of Colorado. Who wouldn’t want to read about that?” Mark suggests. “The only problem is, they don’t trust anyone who isn’t a member of their little clan.”
It does sound like an appealing story. I do feel very passionately about the homeless crisis, but this sounds like something entirely different. This sounds like something extremely controversial, and controversy is something I know my agent would be down with.
“So where do I find these folks?” I ask.
Cheryl is just shaking he
r head. “You don’t find them. They might find you if you look hard enough, though.”
Mark laughs. “Our little wildflower here has had a few run-ins with the Vagrants,” he says, patting her head.
“And?” I ask, intrigued.
“They’re a totally different breed, Molly,” she chuckles, raising her eyebrows. Coming from her, that really means something. Cheryl is always down for an adventure. “Proceed with caution.”
“So are you guys going to help me out or what?” I ask. “The clock is ticking. Find me a Vagrant or I’m gonna have to ramble on down the road.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Cheryl says. “I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to show a girl like you the Vagrant way, but once they find out what you do for a living, I’d be surprised if you didn’t end up in a ditch.”
“They murder journalists?” I ask, a chill running down my spine.
“Quit being dramatic, Cheryl,” Mark says. “She’s just sad old Billy Badass hasn’t returned her calls on his cellphone made out of sticks.”
“He knows where to find me,” she quips.
Maybe I can hang around here a little longer for the sake of research. I actually feel suddenly inspired to start writing up a proposal for my agent. A story like this might be really good for my career, and probably a lot of fun to write. I lay some money down on the table and get up to leave.
“You’re sure in a hurry,” Cheryl says.
“I’m sorry. You guys just lit a fire under me. I love shit like this!”
“I’m off from the studio Friday morning. Wanna hike?” she asks.
“You know it. Swing by my office,” I say, kissing her on the cheek. I give Mark a hug and make my way back to my office, my bus, my home, all wrapped up into one.
Chapter Five
Jesse:
Pain.
Red-hot pain.
Red everywhere as I struggle to open my eyes. My hands feel sticky and my ears are ringing. I can tell I’m flat on my back by the way the sun is baking my skin. Cooking my face. I don’t feel any pain, but my brain is telling me to move, get up, run away, and my body isn’t cooperating.
“You think he’s alive?” I hear a muffled voice say from a few yards away. There is smoke pouring out everywhere, this much I can see through squinted eyes. When I try to cough it from my lungs, everything goes red again.
“We gotta get out of here, Kelly. I have a warrant out. I can’t go back to jail.”
I try to scream for them, let them know that I’m alive. I need help. Nothing is coming out.
I feel reassurance as I hear footsteps in the grass, nearing me.
“Grab his wallet,” the man says. “Get his phone.”
I feel her shuffling through my pockets. I try to move my lips to beg them to call me an ambulance.
If only they knew who I was. They would help me in a heartbeat, right?
Except right this second, I don’t even know who I am. I have no idea how I got here. All I know is that I’m really tired.
I close my eyes and let the sun warm my face. Red turns to black and I drift away.
* * *
The water running over my body feels so cold. I bolt upright with a start and immediately regret my decision. My head is spinning and I lay back down on the hammock below me, squinting my eyes shut, trying to escape the pain.
“What the fuck?” I mutter to no one in particular.
“Is that any way to greet the woman who saved your life?” A girl laughs, and soon I feel a rush of cold water all over my face and I jolt out of my skin once more. “Wake up, sunshine.”
I blink my eyes open to an unfamiliar woman. Skinny, blonde, burgundy red lips and bright blue exotic eyes, this girl is grinning from ear to ear as I run my hands over my face, trying to take inventory of what’s going on right now.
The scabs on my forehead are rough to my touch, and I can tell in an instant that my chin is bruised.
“I’m sorry…” I stutter. “I’m just… really confused.”
“Look, Moss!” she shouts. “He’s awake!”
I’m face-to-face with a man who looks like Tarzan and a sleazy car salesperson got together and made a baby. Wild, rugged, and definitely looking to con me into something.
“Hey, buddy,” the guy says. “You think you can get up and walk?”
The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. The only thing going through my brain right now is the fact that I have no idea where I am.
Even more frightening, I have no idea who I am or where I came from. I instinctively reach into the pocket of my jeans, looking for my wallet.
“You think we didn’t already try that?” the guy asks. “Well, you give us a lot more credit than we deserve.”
“I’m really sorry, Moss is it?” I ask. “I just…”
The young woman brings me a plate with fresh fruit and bread, and even though I’m completely disoriented, my body knows I need to eat something. I shovel down the food like I haven’t eaten in days.
“Good, good,” Moss says. “Get your strength up. Cuz tonight you’re going home.”
“Aw, come on, Moss,” the girl whines. “He just woke up.”
“And you did your good deed for the month,” he says, pecking her on the lips. “But I’m sure this guy has somewhere to be. Don’t ya?” he asks me.
I just stare him in the eye, blinking. Do I know these people?
“Where were you headed, bud?” he asks me.
“Shit,” I stutter. “I think I was going hunting.”
“Hunting?” the girl asks. I just shrug my shoulders. I have no idea where I was going. I have no idea where I came from. And I really hope the next question out of someone’s mouth isn’t the one that I’m having so much trouble trying to figure out the answer to.
“Who are you anyway?” Moss asks.
The silence is deafening as I rack my brain for any possible solution to this problem. I look at my hands. I run my fingers over the tattoo of a buck across my chest.
“Well?”
“Dude,” I stutter. “I have no fucking clue.”
The three of us laugh at the absurdity of the statement. I might not have any idea where I am, who I am, or how I got here, but something inside me tells me this is right where I belong.
I should be concerned. Between the cuts on my head and the fact that the last thing I remember is laying in a ditch, I really don’t know why I’m not freaking out more. Maybe I died and this shanty town in the woods is my heaven. What if someone’s looking for me? What if I have a wife and kids or something?
“Do you even have a name?” Moss asks. Good thinking. No sense in getting ahead of myself.
“I’m sure I do,” I say, thinking out loud. “It’s right on the tip of my tongue.”
“Well, listen,” Moss assures me. “You look like a sturdy guy. You look like you can hold your own, and for some reason, I think I like you. You’re more than welcome to stick around here until you get your wits about you. I’m sure you’ll figure it out before too long.”
There are so many questions in my mind. So many things left unanswered, and now I’m being taken in by these people, in the woods, people I don’t even know.
“What happened to me?” I ask. “How did I get here?”
“I found you,” the girl says. The more I look at her, study her, the more I realize how pretty she is. She’s got this long wild blonde hair that comes down to her waist. Her skin is pale and clear and her eyes look like they’re glowing. She’s got on a modest white sundress, and her body is extremely petite. “I was out looking for mushrooms and I found you curled up in a ball in a ditch. I didn’t know how long it would take for somebody to find you, so I got the guys and we brought you here.”
“That’s my Luna,” Moss laughs. “Always bringing home wounded animals and trying to revive them back to health. You’re a lucky guy. Last time she brought home a duck and after a week or so, we ended up having to eat him.”
“You couldn�
�t get him healthy?” I ask.
“No,” Moss cackles. “We were hungry.”
I can’t get a good read on this guy. On one hand, he seems like he wants to help me, like he’s friendly, but on the other, everything he says sounds like somewhat of a warning, like he’s trying to let me know exactly who’s got the upper hand in our relationship.
“Oh stop,” Luna says. “We were never going to eat you. Steal your wallet, maybe.” She winks. “In case you were wondering, though, it was already gone. There was an abandoned Crown Vic up the road a little ways if that rings any bells.”
“The only thing ringing right now is my ears.” I shrug. My headache is back in full force. All this excitement, all this thinking, all this trying to put the pieces back together is weighing on my injuries.
“Oh sure, sorry,” Luna says. “You were in really bad shape. You should probably go back to sleep for a little bit. Here,” she offers me a mug. “You need to try and get some fluids in you.”
Whatever it is is bitter and I can tell it’s not just water. Moss laughs as I scrunch up my nose, nearly gagging on it.
“Finish it up, bud,” he urges. “I promise you won’t have a headache after you drink that.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s just a little something I learned from the elders.” Luna winks. “A Vagrant mountain family recipe.”
I chug down the water and rest back into the hammock. I feel warm, I feel safe. I still feel confused, but for some reason, I don’t care. I’m happy.
“Works fast, huh?” Moss laughs. “Get some rest, dude. We will come back for you in a little bit. Introduce you to the rest of the clan.”
“If you wake up and need anything, I’ll be just over there,” Luna says, pointing down a narrow trail.
“If he needs anything, he can come get me.” I see Moss’s face scrunch up and his eyes look over her body in what appears to be jealousy. “You’ve done enough, Luna.” He pulls her in for a sloppy kiss, and I get the picture. They’re a thing. Not like I really care. Hooking up with a woman, no matter how pretty she might be, is the last thing on my mind right now.