Page 11 of Into the Dark, We Go

"Somethin’ like that."

"And what were the conclusions of their research?" I asked.

Lucas looked sideways, slightly wrinkling his nose as if trying not to laugh, and replied, "If you brew moonshine in the school lab, you’ll get fired."

"Maybe they just brewed it during the wrong moon phase?"

Lucas laughed and leaned in, placing his hands on the back of my head, and my breath hitched as his lips pressed against mine.

4

Chapter Four

September, 2020

We skippedthe morning traffic and sped along the modest two-lane i-35, winding its way between sprawling forests on both sides.

When I picked up Mitchell and June from the hotel, they were already waiting for me at the entrance. Mitchell effortlessly carried a compact suitcase in one hand and a gray backpack on his shoulder. June, on the other hand, had a huge, bloated tote bag stuffed with her things and an enormous black backpack. I didn’t judge. Whenever I traveled by car, I packed all the necessities in a blue Ikea bag. My mother argued with me about its practicality, but honestly, things get just as messy in a suitcase, and it’s harder to access them.

Today, June wore a long, lace skirt paired with a "Nightmare on Elm Street" T-shirt, her fingers adorned with several silver rings. Her fedora, the same one she wore the day before, topped off her outfit. When I arrived to pick them up, she gave me a menacing glance. Or at least, what I assumed was a menacing glance. It was so over-the-top that it almost made me chuckle.

Mitchell entertained me with chatter, telling me about his time in the military and somehow avoiding discussing the true purpose of our voyage. It almost felt like we were on an exciting road trip.

In the rearview mirror, I saw June alternating between poking at her phone and pensively gazing out the window, watching the small towns pass by—one indistinguishable from the next.

"Picture this: we’re settling in for the night at camp, guys getting some rest. Then, out of nowhere, a wild goat comes tearing past the guards and into the tent, nipping at our chow packets." Mitchell’s accent thickened as he spoke, hands flying with excitement. "It was like a dadgum tornado on hooves, sending us all scrambling! We’re talking a dozen dudes stumbling around, tripping over each other, getting all banged up, and that stupid goat don’t get a scratch on it!" He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory.

I forced a smile, feeling a little too tense to fully enjoy the tale. I caught a glimpse of June in the rearview, and her expression said she’d heard this story before, perhaps quite a few times.

"So, you made it to sergeant?" I asked after he’d stopped laughing.

"Yes, last year," he confirmed, keeping it reserved.

"What’s next?"

"Usually, a staff sergeant," he made a slight pause, "But not for me. I recently demobilized." He rubbed his neck and then checked the time.

"Oh," was all I could say, "Because of your sister? Because of Amanda?"

"Yeah," he started, hesitant, then his voice firmed up. "Nah, I just needed a change. But Amanda going missing—that definitely played a part in my decision."

"How so?"

"I figured I’d give being a cop a shot."

"In Kansas City?"

"Of course, where else?"

"You could go anywhere," June chimed in. "Yet you chose that dump."

"Why is it a dump?" Mitchell’s surprise was genuine.

"Because it’s lousy! Nowhere else has as much crap happening."

"So you want to move?" I asked June.

"As soon as I save up enough money," she said defiantly.