Anyone? by Scott Angela

Author:Scott, Angela [Scott, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Evolved Publishing LLC
Published: 2014-11-29T05:00:00+00:00

Cole dropped his pants in the middle of the aisle and stood there, wearing only his underwear while he flicked through a rack of athletic shorts. He grabbed one off a hanger, held it up, then tossed it to the side before looking again.

It took every ounce of will power not to ask what he was doing, though my eyes kept wandering to him, betraying my curiosity. I wanted to talk, to ease the tension between us, but if he wanted to act as though nothing had happened, pretend the kiss had been nothing more than a ploy to get me to calm down, what else could I do?

“Going for a run. Be back in a bit.” He slipped a pair of black shorts over his hips, grabbed a pair of running shoes off the display, and headed out into the main part of the mall. After a few minutes, the sound of his feet hitting the floor echoed along the corridor, growing more intense with each lap.

“What am I going to do, Callie?” I held the kitten in my arms and rubbed her orange and white head. I debated whether to leave and go about finding my family on my own—it would be a lot less weird without Cole—but it would be terrifying to be alone. Not to mention a lot more dangerous.

The pros and cons of each choice equaled out. The best solution was to go back to how things had been before—but was that even possible?

My backpack stood ready—sleeping bag and pad, tent, synthetic clothing, water pump, camping stove, matches, first aid kit, rifle, knife, compass, map, ready-to-eat meals, flashlight, headlamp, coat, gloves, thermal underwear, and of course, socks to keep my feet dry. I had nothing left to do but wait until morning to be on my way.

It was too early to sleep, but too late to do much of anything else. Since I didn’t relish meandering around a darkened building on my own, exploring the mall was out of the question, but sitting on my butt and listening to Cole run lap after lap around the place left much to be desired.

Ten metal darts poked out from a dartboard on display, beckoning to me, and after I left Callie with a bowl of water and food, I removed the darts and turned them over in my hands. I pressed one sharp point to my palm, drawing a bead of blood, satisfied that they would serve my purpose.

The intended target hung on the wall, round and waiting, but I had another target in mind. I chucked the darts, one at a time, at a stupid mannequin, aiming for its shiny faceless head. The bridge of the nose, between the eyes—perfect.

Several stuck and a few others missed the mark altogether, but the very act of throwing sharp pointy things at an inanimate object released a lot of pent-up frustration.

Take that!

The mannequin began to resemble a porcupine, and I couldn’t have been happier. I’d finally found a way to deal with my feelings for Cole.

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