The Hunter In Me

16 - Proud

The next few days passed the way they did before Lilla showed up—work, dinner with Dad, and practice in the yard.

The only new thing was Owen insisted we carry the throwing knives in my pocket and the bigger knife in my boot at all times. Now that we knew mimics were definitely here, he wanted to be prepared.

I kept waiting for news of a missing man and a picture of us strolling through town with a bag of bones. It hadn't happened, and Owen said it wouldn't. Still, Friday morning, I checked online again to make sure no one was looking for him.

"You can stop worrying about that. He probably wasn't known in town yet. The only ones that'll miss him are other mimics. They won't tell the police, and there's no way anyone knows it was us." Owen couldn't have been less concerned.

I set my phone down and leaned on the counter, sipping my coffee. "We could swing by your house after work and check on Lilla," I whispered in case Dad came downstairs.

"No. She'll be alright. We'll give her until tomorrow. Hopefully, she'll have a lead by then."

"I can tell you're worried."

"That chick takes care of herself, and they can't sneak up on her anyway."

Before I could argue, or point out that we didn't call girls chicks anymore, Dad strolled into the kitchen. "Ready to go?"

"Yep." I passed him his coffee cup, and we left the house.

***

That afternoon, we went out to lunch. As we sat in the diner, I tried to act normal for Dad's benefit, but my skin crawled as though I was being watched.

"Are you getting sick?" Dad asked. "I've never seen you leave half a burger on your plate."

Worry clouded his features, so I smiled. "No, I'm good. Just not hungry, I guess."

"Well, there's only one more stop, so we'll be finished soon. I'm going to the restroom. Back in a sec." He walked between the tables, and I studied everyone he passed.

When we were alone, Owen said, "What's wrong? You're looking around like you expect an ambush."

With my cell to my ear, I whispered, "I feel like someone's staring at me, but I can't find anything weird. Can you?"

"I only see what you see, but you've searched the room ten times. I think you're creeping yourself out over one dead mimic."

"You're probably right." I slid my phone in my pocket but couldn't stop the compulsion to scan the dining room and its customers again.

When Dad returned, I was happy to go. It was a relief when the uncomfortable sensation stayed with the diner, and the rest of the workday was normal.

***

We got home before four and went to the backyard to practice. Dad followed a few minutes later. "Thought I'd come to watch."

"You want to take a turn?" I held a knife handle toward him.

"Nah, maybe in a bit."

Dad stood there as I threw and made encouraging noises for a while before saying, "We should get you a real target."

"Nah, this works. Are you ready to give it another try?"

I held out the blades, and Dad took them. "Why not?" But his phone rang, and he gave them back as he checked the number. "Probably a work call." Walking away, he answered, "Hey! It's nice to hear from you."