Reach: The Spiral (Book One)

Chapter Ten

ALEX

𝙰𝙻𝙴𝚇 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙸𝙽𝙴𝙳 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙾𝙽 the mysterious man from the woods, paying mind to the clock on his ski goggles, and to the glazing nylon suit cloaked from shoulder to shoulder. Knotted on the neck was a piece of string attached to a metal cross. Snapping a glance at the heavy Wellington boots, Alex let her body tremble in murky horror, and then in unfettered anxiety. She had no idea what to say or do. This man had frozen Scarlet in time, with supposedly no effort whatsoever. And now, Alex was next.

Instinctively, Alex turned to make a beeline for the glade—it was about a javelin's throw away, though it appeared much farther due to the change in atmosphere. The mist fogged her vision.

"Ooh, little girl," a voice called behind her, and suddenly she felt herself freeze, unable to move or speak, "where are you off to? Didn't your parents ever tell you it's rude to walk away from adults when they're talking to you?"

With a twitching finger, Alex looked down; that's all she could do.

"Turn around, let me have another look at you," said the man.

Footsteps crunched towards her. When they stopped, Alex could move again. She turned around, heart racing, eyes welling with tears, teeth chattering, nose swelling up. Struggling to breathe, shivering to no end, she clutched her elbows and gazed into the man's goggles. There had been a hint of green in there, glinting whenever the light hit them at a particular angle.

"My, my, you are pretty—" He reached a hand to touch her hair. Out of panic, Alex recoiled. She tried to say something, but all that came out was a bunch of wordless stutters. Not waiting any longer, the man said, "Hush, you swine!" And then, sweetly, "You wouldn't want your last moments to be spent frozen in time, now would you?"

Alex shook her head. "No!" she wept. She sniffled and wiped away the tears.

The man looked over at Scarlet, who'd still not moved a muscle. Resuming his gaze on Alex, he said, "Good. Now, that's a nice jeep you have there." He brushed past Alex and sauntered over towards the vehicle. Scarlet, panting through her nose and submitting indecipherable moans and groans, screamed internally. She was like a missing person held captive in the leaky basement of a serial killer's suburban chalet.

Stopping in front of her, the man began taking in Scarlet's scent. "Scarlet . . ." he breathed. ". . . it's been too long. How are you, darling?"

What an absolute psychopath! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!

Had Alex been more courageous, those thoughts would perhaps have been words, and those words would have meant something. They would have meant she wasn't going to back down, that she had started out looking for family, but now found herself attached to a woman. There was something about her that seemed so motherly and trustworthy. It was like Alex had known her back on Earth. And without Scarlet, Alex would be alone again . . . all alone with no one to turn to. What if there weren't any more Scarlets in the world? What if she was the only one, and the rest of the population were like him—evil, brooding psychopaths stuck on the idea of killing.

And what if Phoenix—that sweet, sweet boy—wasn't there to save her? Was he even ALIVE?! Alex hadn't the slightest of an idea. A dream about Phoenix on his apartment balcony certainly wasn't enough to make her believe so—even if, and this is a bit of a visceral thought, dreams meant something. (Because Alex had heard years ago that every dream was unique and meant something different. Perhaps you were being chased, not by a monster or an otherworldly being—those were merely meant to trick you—but by something in your life far, far scarier. Like cancer—that was a big one. Like love. And let's not forget God. You couldn't escape any of them—and in the same way Alex was told that our dreams signified what was chasing us. Albeit, that was a very heartfelt, ardent example.)