Burn

CHAPTER 9

"Are white picket fences a religion in this town or something?" Margo yawned, peering sleepily through the windshield as she gripped the wheel. She and Carter had agreed to alternate driving between them to avoid fatigue, although the sun's relentless heat seemed to inspire drowsiness all the same. "I haven't seen a single house without them."

"What can I say," Carter teased back, stretching against the hot leather upholstery. "Shell Cove is 'the suburban beachside dream.'"

"Ew. Stop quoting that cheesy sign," Margo demanded.

Ryu snorted from his seat beside Carter, who chuckled into his palm as he stared out the backseat window, eyes skimming the crowds of people outside tiny boutiques and pastel bakeries with mild interest. What he and Margo really cared about was, of course, the thrift store a few streets away; a shiver of anxiety kept crawling up and down Carter's spine, occasionally jolting him from his seat.

Just another few minutes, and they'd trekking through its dusty corners in search of demonic clues.

Even in his head, it sounded ridiculous.

When Margo parked outside a collection of small, dingy stores five minutes later, Carter's fingers were shaking as he clambered awkwardly from the old convertible. His hair dripped, still wet, onto his crumpled t-shirt, and Margo's purple sunglasses perched on the end of his nose.

As they made their way down the street, he stole a glance at himself in a nearby window.

He certainly didn't look like a demon investigator.

"You nervous?" Margo whispered when they paused outside the smallest of the run-down buildings; every inch of it spoke of neglect, the cracked paint and faded roof panelling serving to only emphasis its omniety. The words 'Mr. Tanner's Treasure Trove' could be just made out in sun-bleached lettering across the front door.

Carter hesitated, took a deep breath, and exchanged a glance with Ryu over his shoulder.

"Yep," he answered finally, and pushed open the door without another backward glance.

It was now or never.

A bell chimed shrilly overhead, tinkling eerily as they filed into the store. The interior was as dank and shadowed as Carter remembered, and he squinted into the twisting labyrinth of wooden aisles; for such a small building, Mr. Tanner had managed to cram a lot into its spaces.

Cautiously, he inched forward, skirting a pile of broken lightbulbs lying nearby, and moved carefully to the back of the store. It was by a large bay of windows, he recalled, moving quicker as his excitement mounted. There was a red wooden shelf, and on that was-

"Shit!"

Carter winced as a crash sounded behind him, followed by a fit of sharp coughing. He turned to watch Ryu emerge from a cluster of collapsed shelves, batting away clouds of dust with swift, impatient jerks of his hand.

Behind him, Margo was sighing.

"Can't you at least try to be careful?" she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Ryu scowled back and opened his mouth to retort, when an old, reedy voice called out from the front of the store.

"You alright back there?"

Carter and Margo froze, exchanging wide-eyed stares.

"Y-Yes," Margo called back hesitantly, her voice high-pitched and nervous. "We're fine, thankyou."

"Well, then, what was that?" the voice demanded, sounding, Carter mused, reasonably incredulous. They had knocked down his shelves, after all.