“You’re not coming with us?” Giselle says.
“Think of how many’ll be upset if we don’t open the store today,” Iris says.
“I suppose,” Giselle says, stuffing a huge bite in her mouth. “But it’s just for a couple hours.”
Ron takes a piece of bacon and eats it with her hand.
“Ya’ll don’t need me anyway,” Iris says.
“But it’d be nice to have your pretty face around,” Giselle says.
Iris laughs. “Sorry to disappoint ya.”
Giselle picks up her empty plate and stands up. “Alright. We’ll just be scouting anyway. Shouldn’t take too long.”
“Sure thing,” Iris says. She takes a bite of her pancakes as she reads the newspaper from her lap.
“You done, Ron?” Giselle asks.
“Oh, yes,” Ron says, finishing up the bacon in her hand.
She gets up but before she can take her plate, Giselle takes it and brings it to the kitchen. She puts it in the sink.
“Let’s head out then,” Giselle says as she walks back to the table.
She pats Iris on her head.
“Have fun,” Iris says.
“Mhm, we’ll be back soon,” Giselle says.
Giselle leads the way out of the house, Ron following behind. They go down the stairs to the large pickup truck parked next to the store. They get in and drive out of town.
“So where’d you see those gifted people?” Giselle says, driving past the spot where Ron dumped the truck yesterday.
“It’s a little up ahead. There’s a dirt road coming up soon. Turn in there.”
Ron figured she’d just take her to the same road she and Chrys went up yesterday, but not as far. She’d take her into the forest until they got tired of looking.
Giselle turns onto the narrow dirt road, but after just a minute or so of driving, they see a motorcycle parked right in the middle, blocking their way. Giselle stops the truck and groans.
“Damn Carl,” she says, hitting the steering wheel.
“Carl?” Ron asks. “The guy from Iris’s dream?”
“Did you tell anyone else about your lead?”
“No. No one. I hardly wanted to tell you.”
She sighs. “I’ll just get out for a bit and move his bike.”
“It’s fine,” Ron says. “It’s not far from here anyway. Let’s just get out here.”
“It’s not far? That means Carl might be around and ruin everything.”
“Why would Carl be out here?”
“Calls himself an inventor. Claims he made some sort of dumb technology that can spot gifted people. He’s probably waving it around testing it or something.”
“Have you ever seen it? Does it work?”
“No I’ve never seen it but I don’t have to to know it’s a bunch of horse shit. There’s just no way science can compete with that stuff—those gifts or whatever. Science has got nothing on magic.”
Magic. Yeah, that’s how Ron likes to think about it too, especially because Chrys always seemed to hate it when Ron called it a “gift” back in the day. Ron touches her pants pocket where she keeps the phone. If Chrys calls right now, she’d ditch these people in a heartbeat. But, until then, maybe it’d be helpful to Chrys if Ron found out just what exactly these people so close to the magic camp can do.
Carl. Giselle might think he’s talking crap but what if he isn’t? She’d have to look into him later.
“Anyway,” Ron says, “I’ll take you to the spot from here.”
“Yeah, alright.” Giselle turns off the engine and tucks the keys into the pocket on her shorts.
As Ron climbs out of the truck, she stares at the motorcycle. It’s a cherry red Harley Davidson. License plate number 3RFP5A.
She points to the right, the side that’ll lead deeper into the forest and not back to the main road. “This way.”
She leads Giselle deep into the forest where the lush green trees stretch out overhead, shielding them from the hot sun. Every now and then, she reminds herself of the motorcycle.
Cherry red Harley Davidson. 3RFP5A.
She makes a couple turns at notable spots, like a huge boulder and a tree shaped like a gnarly old lady, to make it seem like she knows where she’s going.
They reach a small grassy clearing—not large enough for more than one person to camp in, but this should be good enough.
Cherry red Harley Davidson. 3RFP5A.
Ron stops Giselle.
“This is where I found them,” Ron says in a low voice.
Giselle nods, looking around suspiciously.
“What if we actually stumble on the camp?” Ron says, even lower.
Giselle’s presses her lips into a thin line. “Then we’ll have to hope we can get out of there before anyone notices. We aren’t prepared for a fight. Besides, even if we outnumber them and carried weapons, they’d probably still beat us.”
“What is your goal exactly? Why do you want to find the camp?”
“If we know where they are, maybe we can find a way to contain them somehow. Lock ‘em in.”
“Maybe, but—”
“What about you? Why are you looking?”
“Well, it’d be nice if I could get my money and stuff back.”
“But why were you out here looking in the first place?” Giselle says.
“I think my mom might be in there,” Ron lies smoothly. She’d already thought about all of this last night as she laid in bed, coming up with reasons and motives and backstory for just about anything Giselle or Iris might ask.
“Why do you want to find your mom?” Giselle asks, a dark look in her eyes.
Ron smiles and mimics that dark look. “Revenge.”
Giselle laughs lowly to match the volume they’d been speaking at. “You’re something else, you know that?”
Ron shrugs. “Just being honest.”
Giselle nods. “I appreciate that.” She looks around. “Which way should we go?”
Ron points to the right. “We should go in deeper.”
Ron leads the way. They walk further into the forest, going in as straight a line as possible, stumbling over tree roots and pushing past bushes and branches.
Cherry red Harley Davidson. 3RFP5A.
There’s no sign of any camps. There isn’t even any sign that people have come this way before. But Ron keeps going,
