Hair in All The Wrong Places (3 page)

Colin decided he had to go to Seattle to see his parents

Tonight.

C
olin debated whether he should pack a toothbrush. Seattle was only a couple of hours north, and his parents would likely just stick him on a bus right back to Elkwood, so it was unlikely he'd need anything for an overnight stay.

Every time he'd been beaten up, Colin thought about going to see them. He even knew exactly how to do it.

He'd only met his grandfather once before he had passed away. The old man had been a mechanic and operated out of an old garage in Elkwood's rustic downtown. His grandmother had never seen fit to sell it so there it remained, gathering dust.

More important to Colin's plan, his grandfather's ‘83 Pontiac Phoenix, a boat of a car, still sat in the garage. Colin had learned to drive from one of his uncles during a six-month stint in Texas a few years ago. Uncle Cletus
believed that every boy aged five and over should know how to drive, shoot, and skin things. Colin hadn't managed to master the skinning bit because the sight of blood made him dizzy. However, being fairly tall, he'd taken to driving quite easily.

He knew his grandmother kept the car's gas tank full and started it once a month although Colin had no idea why as she never drove it anywhere and, being completely blind, would likely run over several people and cause a fair amount of damage.

Colin planned to take the logging road in order to avoid the main highway for as long as possible. For a thirteen-year-old with no driver's license, no insurance, and driving a stolen car, getting pulled over in the middle of the night would be a bad situation.

“Just do it,” said Colin to no one in particular.

He grabbed his jacket and backpack and headed out into the night. The rain had subsided, but the fog was lying low over the town, as it always seemed to on town hall meeting nights.

Colin took Twelfth Street out of the residential area and tried to look casual, which was pointless as no one was around.

The town hall clock began to chime nine o'clock. The meeting would be let out in another half an hour or so and with it, his grandmother. Best-case scenario, she would go home like normal, settle herself in front of the television and watch
Wheel of Fortune
re-runs, assuming he'd already gone to bed. The worst-case scenario would involve much more shouting and him being grounded for life.

The fog was getting thicker, turning the streetlights into growing balls of dull light. Colin could barely see twenty feet in front of him. Driving in this weather would be scary.

Suck it up, Colin; this has to be done.

Confidence wasn't Colin's strong point, but he was determined. With every step, his aching ribs reminded him just why he had to go through with this crazy idea.

He ducked into the alleyway behind Harrison's Grocers. One more block and he'd be able to go through the back door of his grandfather's garage using the keys he'd swiped from the kitchen drawer.

Colin was trying to remember all the important parts of getting a car going when he heard a set of footsteps. They were at the other end of the alleyway coming toward him. He really hadn't expected to encounter anyone. Elkwood was a sleepy town where people didn't stay out past 8:00 p.m., especially this late in the year. The only people out tonight should be those at the town hall.

Colin moved to the side of the alley and crouched down behind a dumpster, holding his breath for so long that he began to feel dizzy.

The footsteps were moving quickly.

“I hope you're sure about this,” said a gruff voice. “Otherwise we just ended a town hall meeting early for no good reason. And you know how important they are.”

Colin knew the voice; it was Becca's dad, Mr. Emerson. His rough tone was unmistakable even though Colin had only heard him speak a couple of times in passing when picking Becca up from school.

“It is for certain.” The second voice came as a surprise
as Colin had only heard one set of footsteps. He didn't recognize this voice, but it was deep and hollow as if the man were speaking from the bottom of a well. It sent shivers throughout Colin's body, running from his toes to his spine, stopping at his head, and continuing back the way they came.

Mr. Emerson and his companion stopped walking. Colin could now see both strangers from his hiding place. Mr. Emerson had his back to him, but Colin could see that he was dressed in his usual dark suit. The man facing Mr. Emerson looked like he had stepped out of medieval times wearing a long, shabby cloak with the hood covering his head and face. Colin had certainly never seen him around town.

“What I want to know,” said Mr. Emerson, “is why we didn't know about this sooner?”

“You know very well it's not as easy as that,” said the cloaked figure.

Mr. Emerson stormed away down the alley. “I need to get up to the base. I assume you can find your way home.” It was a statement, not a question, and then he was gone.

The cloaked stranger turned to walk away and then paused. Turning his hooded head as if looking for something in the dark alley, the stranger suddenly zeroed in on Colin's hiding spot. Colin held his breath. The stranger didn't move.

It seemed like an eternity although barely ten seconds had passed before the stranger turned away slowly and then spoke. “You should go now, Colin Strauss.” The words hung in the air. “Or you will be late.”

With that, the stranger glided down the alley without making a sound.

What in the world was that thing?

He emerged from his hiding place, carefully inspecting the alley. There was no sound, and the fog seemed to be lifting slightly. Whoever the creepy stranger was, he was right; Colin had to get moving. If the town hall meeting was already out, then that meant he was going to have a harder time getting out of town unseen.

He hurried the rest of the way, constantly checking behind him, afraid the cloaked stranger was following him and would emerge at any moment.

Or you will be late. Late for what?

Quietly slipping inside the garage, Colin finally allowed himself to breathe properly after locking the door behind him. His heart was racing, he was covered in sweat, and his nerves were on edge. He felt like he'd run a marathon.

If the town meeting had been broken up by some sort of urgent situation, then his grandmother would already be on her way home. He had to hurry.

The garage was exactly as it had been when his grandfather died and smelled like old cigarettes and motor oil.

Colin pulled open the wide double doors, checking the street to make sure it was empty. The fog was still heavy enough that he couldn't see past the end of the block.

The car started with a roar on the first turn. Tamping down his panic, he pulled the car out onto the street, parked, and quickly got out and closed the double doors.

Colin wasn't a lawbreaker, at least not normally. He was beginning to feel queasy. Maybe this was a mistake?

No, I'm committed. I have to do this.

They were his parents; at the very least, he had to let them know he was unhappy and being bullied incessantly. He had to do something!

He drove slowly down the street being careful not to give it too much gas. He'd almost made it the two blocks out of downtown when he hit the red light. There were only two stoplights in Elkwood, one by the school and this one that was activated by a crosswalk. He thought maybe it was a glitch as he couldn't see anyone, and then he saw her. His heart sank somewhere deep down into his stomach.

She walked out of the shadows of the old lawyer's office building and crossed the street. It was Becca Emerson!

What is she doing here?

She looked as pale as always, her red hair tied back, wearing her usual dark clothes.

Colin closed his eyes.

Please don't look. Don't look, don't look, just keep walking, don't look this way, just keep walking.

He opened his eyes. She was standing directly in front of his car wearing a stunned expression. Quickly regaining her composure, she walked around to the driver's window. Colin was no longer certain he was breathing. He inched the window down and gave his best effort at being calm.

“Oh, hi, Becca,” squeaked Colin.

“Colin, what are you doing out here? You can't be out
here. The meeting ended early.”

“Uhh, yeah I know. Grandmother just wanted me to start the old car and make sure the battery was okay,” said Colin, drumming nervously on the steering wheel. Colin didn't lie well under normal circumstances, never mind while sitting in a stolen car about to take a road trip out of town in the middle of the night.

Becca eyed him suspiciously. “You have to get out of here now! No one's supposed to be out,” she said, looking around as if expecting someone to step out of the fog at any time.

Something occurred to Colin. “What are you doing out here? Were you at the meeting?”

She looked taken aback. “No, well … no. Colin, you have to take this car back wherever you got it and get home. In fact, you should just drive straight home. Quickly.”

Colin didn't know why Becca sounded so anxious, but he recognized an opportunity when he saw it. “You're probably right; I'll just drive home and bring the car back in the morning.”

“Go, now!”

“Good night, Becca.” But she was already walking away from the car and was quickly swallowed up by the fog.

Colin stepped on the gas and sped the rest of the way out of town. If he did pass anyone, he didn't realize it. He eased off the gas as he approached the old forestry road and wondered what could have got Becca so agitated? And why was she out so late anyway? Had she been at the town hall meeting?

Putting Becca out of his mind, he was determined to forget about his strange encounter with the cloaked stranger and Mr. Emerson, and concentrate on the task at hand.

Mustering up as much courage as he could, Colin turned onto the dark road, accelerating into the night.

D
riving wasn't a difficult task; the car was old and bulky but so heavy that it hugged the corners. When he reached the one-mile marker out of town, the fog lifted, and it looked like the night would be clear from here on out.

Colin's mind blurred with thoughts of Becca, Mr. Emerson, his grandmother, his parents, the town meeting, his aching ribs, Gareth Dugan, the cloaked figure—it was all making his head hurt.

Concentrate on driving, Colin!

It wasn't long before the tall trees on either side of the road blocked his view, and he only occasionally caught glimpses of the bright, full moon. Colin had never travelled this road before and wasn't sure how far north it ran before joining the main highway.

The loud, cynical portion of Colin's brain continued
to argue that not only would his parents send him straight back to Elkwood, but they would probably dismiss his worry and misery as silly teenage stuff. At this depressing thought, Colin eased off the gas for a moment as he considered returning to Elkwood to face the wrath of his grandmother.

No, he was going. He stepped on the gas and flicked on the radio to take his mind off things.

Most of the stations Colin chanced upon contained the sweet rhythmic sounds of static, but occasionally, the old radio would grab a piece of a tune from an oldies station. As the road began its steep descent down to a tree-filled valley, an Elvis Presley song began to play, but then the song was gone again, replaced by a male voice shrouded in static.

“Alpha and beta units stay on him! If we lose him now, we may not get another chance,” growled the voice.

Must be a radio play
.

“He's too fast,” responded a female voice. “What's the six on the chopper? We need it now! The trees are too dense, I repeat, the trees are too dense.”

“Affirmative, beta unit. Chopper is en route,” said the male voice.

Not a very interesting radio play
.

But as there was nothing else on and at least the signal seemed to be clear, he just left the dial where it was.

“Alpha unit is down!” said a different male voice in a panic. “It just tore right through us. Jensen is down. Burke is missing! Oh God, this is a mess. Just a mess!”

“Pull yourself together!” ordered the first male voice. “You're a trained agent! Get it together! Where did the
subject go?”

Agent? Subject? This is just lame.

“It's breaking east,” said the second male voice. “No wait, south! It's heading south toward the logging road.

Logging road?

“This is Commander Emerson,” interjected a familiar voice on the radio. “Don't let this thing get away, you hear me?”

“Mr. Emerson?” said Colin.

What am I listening to?

“Sir,” came the female voice again, “we have a problem. There's a car coming down the logging road.”

“What?” exclaimed Mr. Emerson. “How far?”

“It's on track to intercept with the subject. We're taking a shot at the subject, sir.”

A gunshot ripped through the night air, and Colin took his foot off the accelerator, heart racing.

“We got him, sir!” said the female voice again. “He's injured! The subject is moving away from the road.”

“And the car?” said Mr. Emerson.

“Still coming.”

Colin didn't know what to do. Were they talking about his car? Was that really Mr. Emerson? What's the
subject
?

In a panic, he stepped on the gas, heart racing, hoping he'd be able to get out of the area entirely.

“Chopper support is inbound,” said the original male voice.

“Commander Emerson! The subject … we've lost him. No wait. He's cut back to the road!”

A massive creature burst out of the trees ahead of
Colin, stumbling across the road, illuminated by a blinding spotlight. The animal looked like an enormous wolf, bigger than any man, but it stood upright! Stopping in front of Colin's car, the creature turned its head and snarled.