Not Another Love Story

Population 800

Devotion sounded like a good name for a small country town with religious founders. The welcome sign just outside the town limits didn't exactly paint a different picture: A mountain range loomed in the background of a single gum tree light with early morning light. 

Picturesque.

Serene. 

A heck of a lot greener than the red dust and dried grasses that Jake found himself trudging through. 

At some point there had been a tarred road leading into town. At some point too, he mused, man was yet to walk on the moon. And that was most likely the more recent event.

 It was the fault of the missing road that he was walking, instead of riding Migaloo into town. 

Migaloo was his truck. A decommissioned ambulance that he'd turned into a home on wheels. They'd been on the home stretch of a trip around Australia when they'd run out of road and into a sink hole. Frigging old-arse road. If he was a responsible adult, he'd admit to letting his attention wander and missing the signs of the sink hole until it was too late. Then again, if he was a responsible adult he wouldn't have called a big white truck that wallowed on the roads Migaloo, after the great white whale. Responsibility? Never met her. Didn't want to. 

Jake scowled and pulled the brim of his hat lower over his eyes, trying to block the worst of the midday sun. It wasn't his preferred time of day for a walk, that was for sure. He wasn't the biggest fan of walking in general (he was )more of a swimmer) but if walking must be done then it should be done before the sun felt like he could fry an egg on his head. He hadn't bothered with a water bottle considering the GPS put him only a kilometer out of town- less than a mile for all the Yanks reading this with their damn imperial system. He just knew that there would be someone reading about his adventure, scratching their head and wondering what he was talking about. 

Knowing he was living inside a novel world hadn't exactly been a shock. Sure, it was difficult to understand when his parent's told him the truth, but all it took was a bit of observation to pick up on the fact that this world just aint quite right. 

But that was exposition for a later time. Right now, his main concern was getting into town and finding a mechanic. 

Or a tow truck. 

Or a mechanic with a tow truck.

Then a drink of water. 

Sweat dripped down his forehead and he cursed as the salt stung his eye. Scratch that... water was now top of the list along with air-conditioning, then a mechanic with a tow truck. 

If he was the main character, maybe someone would have driven past, rolled a window down and offered him a ride with a low, country drawl. Or maybe he would have walked for hours and staggered into town severely dehydrated only to faint in a handsome stranger's arms. 

Jake snorted at the image of any handsome stranger trying to catch him as he fainted. Good luck to 'em. He wasn't a body builder, but he wasn't a runt either. He'd been a swimmer all through school and kept it up after graduation as an easy way to stay fit and in good shape. Muscles were hot. Especially the muscles that he currently had: the type molded through hard work and intensive labour. His parent's may have been Author's, but none of the lives they'd recorded so far had been best-sellers. They made a tidy living but couldn't afford to fund his jaunt around the country so rather than wandering aimlessly, Jake had gone where the work was. 

In the last three years he had picked fruit, wrestled with fencing wire, cussed at cows and got more that his fair share of cardio behind barns, or milking sheds, or in orchards. He had fun with the added bonus of guaranteeing he would never be the main character. No one wanted a story about a 6ft power bottom with a promiscuous past. He was as safe as safe could be. 

He was also 10 minutes down the main drag before he realised he'd reached the town. 

Country towns in Australia have a simple rule: for every church there must be a pub almost directly opposite. Maybe it was because religion followed the sinners, or maybe it was because the sinners liked to taunt the religious, maybe the religious just wanted somewhere to get a cold beer after church. Jake didn't know but in all his travels not one small town had boasted of a pub without also having a church. Devotion, for all its churchy sounding name, didn't seem to have a single steeple in sight. Pubs, on the other hand, were plentiful. From where he stood Jake could see three; Wolf's Bane, Night Out and while he couldn't tell the name of the one farthest away, he could see that the sign hanging over the door included some sort of cauldron. Devotion was really big on the fantasy themes.

Turning in a circle, Jake took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair. When that didn't clear his vision and magically reveal a church he felt a shiver run down his spine. 

In the pristine blue sky, a single cloud scurried overhead, briefly casting an ominous shadow over weary traveler. 

"No..." he shook his finger at the cloud. "You can get lost and stay lost. No foreshadowing or any such shite. I'm going to find a mechanic, get Migaloo fixed and then I will get the hell out of dodge." The cloud didn't seem to listen as it slowly grew in size and darkened to a threatening grey. 

Jake swore under his breath. Rain right now would completely ruin his day. 

No sooner had he finished the thought when the downpour started, drenching his cotton shirt and running down the waistband of his jeans. Admitting defeat, he stomped through the red mud and pushed open the door of the nearest pub. 

The chill of the air-con smacked him in the face as he stood in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. As the gloom became clearer, he swallowed his words and considered turning tail. Every eye in the pub was on him and all sound had ceased. He would swear that even the dust motes above the bar had frozen in the air until the door swung shut behind him, pushing him into the pub properly and breaking the spell cast on the occupants. As one, they all took a deep breath and from the back of the room, hidden behind an empty pool table, came a low growl. 

"Mine."

"Oh fuck."