Page 100 of Freaks Of Nature

Motherfucker.

Mace

Fuck.

I run a hand through my hair, trying to jog my mind about last night as I hunch at the side of the bed, my elbows on my knees.

I only come up blank. I remember leaving on my bike after my fight with Ash, but I don’t recall where I went or how I even got home.

Letting the hand drop, I stare at my knuckles in the dark. My finger joints are sore as if they’ve been clenched in a tight grip for too long.

An icy chill teases up my neck. The last thing I remember is seeing Emily’s face. I don’t know whether it was real or a figment of my imagination, but I know I held onto those hazel blue eyes like my life depended on it. Like I needed her to save me.

I fear I did something bad if my memory blocked it out.

Without switching on the lamp on my nightstand, I rise to get dressed for work when my eyes catch on the pile of clothes beside my bed. In the faint ambient lighting, I canmake out the black jeans and sweatshirt I wore last night. My mask peeks out from the pouch.

I give my head a shake. I don’t remember leaving them there either.

I ignore the pile and proceed to the closet, grabbing things blindly from everywhere and finishing with my boots before I make my way to the bathroom across the hallway.

I return to my room for my watch, wallet, phone, and keys on the nightstand when I realize my knife is missing.

My mind drifts back to my clothes on the floor. Crouching beside it, I rifle through the bulk, checking the pockets. I find the knife still in the back and pull it out, but my dread rises as my touch encounters a dampness about the denim.

It didn’t rain last night.

I switch on the lamp, and then my feet kick out from under me. I fall onto my ass.

It’s blood.

The soaked-in color is indistinguishable from the black fabric, but the red smudges against the white mask are unmistakable.

I gasp in shock. The sticky wetness clings to the front of the hoodie and down a large part of my jeans. The knife is coated with it. It’s too much. Somebody died. Ikilledsomeone.

Bile rises in the back of my throat, and I swallow to force a golf-ball-sized lump down.

My brain kicks into gears as I become aware of my pounding heartbeat. I panic. I roll everything up into a bundle with the blood on the inside and shove it into mybackpack, the knife included. I can burn it all in one of the barrels at the abandoned campground. Nobody hangs out there.

I check my watch. Ash’s alarm hasn’t gone off yet.

Nobody will know.

I take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves, then push to my feet and leave my room.

Before pulling out of the garage, I swipe the lighter fluid and matches we keep for bonfires from the shelf, stuffing them in the backpack too.

Then I’m off.

I haul ass to the campground, burn all evidence, and make it to work only 20 minutes later than usual. Ash beat me for once.

I watch him go in as I pull into the parking lot. I’ll be avoiding him for the rest of the day, so there’s no need to come up with an excuse for why I’m late.

Isaac, on the other hand…

I would like to avoid him too. I don’t know how I’m going to break it to him that I won’t be taking over the shop with Ash.

I pass Rob and Jason on my way in. Both of them have been working here for about three years now. Isaac hired them after we started to expand, and we couldn’t keep up with the rapidly growing client list.