𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄

42

We barely arrive in the nearest town- settlement honestly, more than anything. A lone rest stop, a random Southern home with the big porch and a brown historical marker, a shabby gift shop with a stereotypical and overdone Western theme, and a small convenience store where too many teenagers to be normal hang around.

All the walking has made our clothes heavy with sweat and our sticky skin coated with dirt. I had to snatch my bonnet off and throw it to the side of the road because of the heat. The teens eye us warily as we approach, but Dieson and I are too quiet because of our dry throats, and sore bodies. Our bags hit against our backs, likely bruised from the constant motion of our walking.

One of the kids shout out, the black sheep in a group of pink-cheeked, White kids with bad haircuts and scowls. He was the only one with red hair, ultra pale skin, and Abrecombie-like clothing compared to their more 'country' get-up. While the others held a look of mischief in their eyes, his seemed force like he was put into the role of being the bully rather than it being innate to the boy. They were only a few years younger than us, but some of the guys towered over Dieson as we approached, and definitely had the muscle from working out in the fields or whatever they did here, compared to Dieson.

"Where y'all folks comin' from?" the red haired boy inquired. He sounded like one of those people who would trade people like Dieson and I back in the day like gum. "The Cerbey's been ran outta here with they pris-sy asses." One boy spits on the ground, laughing like the brave kid said something hilarious.

"There was a fire. We passed by it. We aren't from around here," I say carefully, my throat so dry that I can barely speak. Dieson says nothing, standing behind me slightly. I can tell the boys are sizing him up, watching him stand behind a woman.

"Where are ya from then?" the red haired kid asks.

"Near-around," I tell him vaguely.

"Ehm. See," he cocks his head, "I'd be inclined to believe that," a smile plays on his lips, "If there was anywhere 'near-around' here." His face turns menancing, and the group steps forward, surrounding us in a poorly made arc formation. "So I suggest you tell the truth, lest you find yourselves in some trouble 'round here," he warned.

I glance at me and Dieson's best routes for escape: Back the way we came, or through either left or right into the treeline. I'm sure these few buildings aren't the entirety of whatever town this could be, likely the resident's homes are spread out amongst the trees over acres and acres, and this is just at the main road. The boys likely harass anyone driving through town for entertainment, and hate my family.

"They're in their night clothes," one of the kid cries, "And they both smell like shit and smoke. They were in the fire!"

Dieson and I begin to back away. I glance back at the only person on my side. Isn't he going to say something? Do something? These kids could pound us into the ground and escaping whatever Amina dis will be all for nothing. I don't think they would leave us dead...but what if they do? What if they were a Plan B in case we escaped Amina's fire?

"Decoy. This town isn't even real, and the youngest guy amongst you," Dieson gestures at them, "Is probably 22."

The red haired boy- man, I peer at the harsh lines of his face closer, sneers. "Well if you figured that out, boss man, then maybe you should know we gotta kill ya."

I break off into a run for the trees, slowly stepping downwards as I make my way into the lower ground of the forest compared to the raised gravel road. I instantly mush through water, the poor building of the street on this flat landscape likely leads to flooding of the forest, but my father wouldn't have cared anything about that. I push my way through the forest floor until I finally make it to dry ground.