"Right now, it feels wrong. Know someday you will go to bed and awake to pink skies in
the morning. Birds will fly across the horizon and leaves will rustle in the wind. You'll go to
sleep without worrying and rise excited for the next day.
Things...
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Tara sat in the passenger seat of her family's brown car as her father drove her farther and farther away from the city. She glanced ahead at the dirt road they were driving down. It felt weird to look ahead and not see gray asphalt. She couldn't help but wonder how long this road would remain functional if no one maintained it. Idly, she thought of how you would even maintain a dirt road. Would you add more dirt? Does it sustain itself?
"You excited at all for this?" her father, Mr. Wen, asked as he looked over from the driver's seat.
"I guess. Just nice to get away," Tara said as she briefly glanced over. Her father kept his hair neatly trimmed, perhaps as a way to disguise there being a little less of it year by year.
"I think it would do you some good to get some distance from the hometown after what happened with Arthur. We're lucky they're even willing to see us. I just know they can help you get that thing on your ankle under control."
"I don't need help living with the anklet, Dad. With her, I can save people. She's a gift."
"I know that. But the criminals you fought the other day would beg to differ. You can't just leave people in critical condition. If you're going to be a hero, which trust me that is not an unfamiliar concept to me, you need to be able to control that anklet. You can't be like those that came before you," he said.
"I understand."
"When I was out there back in the day, I knew the type of hero that would put people in the hospital. They were not good people. Those types of people are why things like S-Day happened. That thing on your ankle is going to turn you into that if you aren't careful," he said.
"I'd prefer if you stop referring to the band as a 'thing', Dad. She's a living creature," Tara said as she crossed her arms and turned toward the side window. She watched the dust kicked up by their tires in the side view mirror
"We don't know squat about that thing. It could be living, or it could be a machine," he said.
The anklet hummed.
"She doesn't like it when you accuse her of being a liar," she said.
"This is like having another teenager in the car with me. Tell your friendship bracelet to simmer down. I didn't say it is lying per se. It is just that everything you think you know about this . . . item is only the stuff that the aforementioned item has told you. As your mom used to say, 'Trust, but verify.' We need a new set of eyes on the situation and the place we're headed is the only lead I've got."
"Fine," Tara sighed, "You sure we're not lost? How much deeper are we headed into rural America?"
"I lost the GPS signal a couple minutes ago but she warned me that I would. If her directions are correct, we should be there . . ."
