Scorched Earth by Randall Pine

Author:Randall Pine [Pine, Randall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy
Publisher: Dapper Press
Published: 2019-01-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

“I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t like this,” Virgil whispered as they plunged deeper and deeper into the forest.

“Will you stop saying that?” Simon hissed. “We’re not exactly defenseless, you know.” He charged up his fist to prove it. It glowed a watery orange in the sunlight.

“We’re not exactly experts, either,” Virgil replied, before walking straight into a thin branch that Simon had pushed through and then let go. “Ow!” He closed his eyes and rubbed the pain out of his nose. “See?”

“Virgil. It’s fine. It’s daylight, we can see everything. If we get there and it looks dangerous, we’ll turn around.”

Virgil pushed through the brush and caught back up with his friend. “First of all, I don’t believe that for a second,” he said. “And second of all, why do people always say things are going to be okay because it’s daylight? Daylight is terrifying! Chasing down a serial killer in the daylight is even worse than stumbling around with one in the pitch black, because if it’s daylight, they can see you perfectly, and they can track you perfectly, and they can murder you perfectly. I’ve never understood that about horror movies.”

“You think about the dumbest things,” Simon muttered.

They hustled down the hill, dodging roots and rocks where they could, and stumble-sliding down the dirt slope as quietly as they were able. They broke through a thicket of trees, and Simon threw out his arm. He caught Virgil by the shoulder and pulled him back behind one of the larger trunks. “Look,” he whispered, peering around the tree.

About fifty yards in the distance, they could see the rear end of a huge, white van bouncing along over the uneven terrain. It was an oversized, fifteen-passenger vehicle, and it looked like an airport shuttle. The windows were tinted, so they couldn’t see how many people were sitting inside. There was no road for the van to drive along, just a wide path of dirt and beaten-down brush. It jounced along and made a broad, sweeping curve to the right. As it did, they could see bright blue letters painted on the side of the van that read FURTIVE HILLS.

“What the…?” Virgil said, his voice trailing off with curiosity.

Simon pulled out his phone, opened the camera, and zoomed in as far as the lens would go. He snapped a few pictures of the van as it disappeared between the trees, bumping down the mountain in the general direction of the valley road.

He frowned down at the images. They were blurry, and not particularly revealing. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket and did a quick scan of the area. When he was satisfied that they were alone, he stepped out from behind the tree. “Why would you take a van off-road up here?” he murmured, more to himself than to Virgil.

“And what is ‘Furtive Hills’?” Virgil added, scratching his head.

“It looked like some sort of hotel shuttle,” Simon suggested.

“Furtive Hills sounds like some sort of golf course for members of the Elks Club.

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