Buried in Lies by Robert J. Crane

Author:Robert J. Crane [Crane, Robert J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ostiagard Press
Published: 2023-10-01T16:00:00+00:00

chapter thirty-two

I am a coward.

That was the conclusion I came to as I walked home, hating on myself the whole way.

The invisible guy had been right there. Somewhere on that street, just in front of me, and I'd let him get away. What could I have done to him? Who knows. Punched him, maybe. Sure, I'd never punched another human being in my life, but wasn't this the occasion to try? I balled up a fist; it looked frail, weak, and felt like if I punched anything, it would shatter into a million pieces like that tree I'd run into this afternoon.

“I screwed up, LL,” I whispered to myself as I walked, my dirty, burnt shoes kicking up dust with every step along the blacktop. I crossed Main Street, which was dead other than some headlights far down the street, by the taco stand. I kicked a pebble and it went flying out of sight. I made a mental note that I couldn't do the stupid, careless things I'd done before; that rock could have killed someone, it flew so fast.

The temperature was dropping, as it tended to after sundown in the desert. I felt a little chill run along my skin, unrelated to the bout of gutlessness I'd just experienced. There was distant engine noise, the sound of TVs muffled by walls, but no nearby footsteps, no shoes scuffing. My invisible stalker had truly run off, I thought, but it didn't stop me from looking around paranoid, waiting for him to jump out at me and give me a good punching (since I apparently couldn't respond).

“Well, well,” Shane Davis's voice scratched out as I passed the sheriff's department. He was against the building, stretched out like it was his own personal recliner. “If it isn't our runner.” I froze and he cackled. “She bravely ran away, our Ava.”

I felt my muscles loosen back up from where they'd threatened to halt completely. I made a noise of disgust deep in my throat. “Surprised you saw that movie, Shane,” I said, and kept walking.

“I lived a whole life before I got here, Ava,” he said, almost wheezing through his cackles. He took a drink out of his bottle, which smelled awful. What was the appeal of drinking exactly? “Say, you watching anything good tonight?”

“Don't know.” I tried to just keep walking, but he kept shouting after me.

“Kinda late getting home, aren't ya? Well, leave the curtains open. Maybe I'll catch the end if it's something good!” He collapsed into laughing wheezes, and I felt my disgust rise. “Leave the curtains open in your room, too! Give me a different kind of show.” He started humming “Brave, Brave Sir Robin,” from Monty Python, collapsing into wheezing laughter.

I wanted to break into a run, but I knew that'd just make him laugh harder. It felt like someone was stabbing me in the heart, in the guts.

Because I had run away.

A few minutes later, walking down the cross street in my neighborhood, I started to turn onto my road, but paused.

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