Haunted by the Past (Original)

Chapter 33

Not wanting to waste too much time driving, we decided to stop at Ellicottville. It was a major tourist destination in both summer and winter, but given we were between the seasons, it was a ghost town, which was good for fugitives on the run, not that it was my greatest concern by that point. The thought of dragging another unsuspecting innocent bystander into our mess weighed heavy on my mind. I couldn't even face going into the reception of our little roadside inn.

During the last leg of our road trip, my mind was caught in a never-ending replay of our ALDI trip. If only I didn't attract Jorge's attention. If only I blended into my surroundings and left no impression on him. Hell, we'd be back at Eli's warehouse right now. We wouldn't have wasted the last 24 hours trying to get ahead of the manhunt. But more importantly, Jorge wouldn't have become a serial killer's target. No matter what Eli said, no matter how much I tried to convince myself of otherwise, I couldn't shake the feeling that I signed Jorge's death sentence. Now with every minute that passed, we waited with baited breath for the lunatic to contact me again.

The rain had started sometime after sunset. The consistent fall filled in the gaps of the silence, the only reprieve we were granted from the madness building inside our heads. Not a word was spoken when Eli pulled up in front of the inn. He glanced at me briefly, before jumping out of the car and darting through the rain to the front door of the reception. He didn't even wait to see if I would follow, as if he knew I wouldn't. After watching him disappear into the building, I turned away and crossed my arms tight, wishing instead of my hoodie I was sitting on my bed hugging my pillow. The reflective sheen across the parking lot made the space shimmer under the inn's LED lights. However, just past the boundaries of the property was an empty void of the surrounding forest. As expansive as the abyss was, the shadows of the trees towered imposingly above, making our little pocket of space feel insignificant in comparison. Was it just me or were the trees growing taller?

The car door opened suddenly and I jumped, being snapped back to reality. Plopping back down in the driver's seat beside me, Eli gave me a look of concern before starting the car to move it closer to our room. It was at the far end of the building, closest to the forest cover. It had to be an intentional choice, a request made by Eli when paying for the room, rather than mere coincidence. Damnit, Eli, that meant you interacted with the staff more than was necessary. What if that means you make a lasting impression on them? I kept my disapproval to myself though.

Eli stopped me before we entered the second floor room. He motioned for me to wait while he took some sort of handheld device out of his backpack. Intrigued, I watched from the doorway as he swept the room with the device. It emitted a low beep, but otherwise was unresponsive to the room. Did he really think that this random inn room would be bugged? I didn't question him on it. I knew he had his reasons to be paranoid, as irrational as it was. As soon as he finished, he beckoned me in with a nod of his head.

That was the last real interaction we had for as soon as my backpack hit the bed, Eli had already opened his laptop at the small round table in the far corner and was sitting down into a short, wooden Scandi chair. The chair was sufficient for a small meal, but there was no way he would be comfortable sitting in it for the hours to come. However, he was either too busy to notice, in which case he would feel it in the morning, or didn't want to attract too much attention in getting a better room, but at least he was prepared for the inevitable muscle cramps.

Feeling lost, I glanced around the room at my surroundings. The room wasn't bad per se, but the furnishings felt tired. In between the two queen sized beds sat a sizeable Scandi bedside table with an early 2000s era clock radio, complete with an iPhone charging dock on top. The beds had comforter covers of a faded olive green with a broad, white vine pattern, and at the top mismatching green pillows, all on minimalistic Scandi wooden frames. Not to say any of it was bad – had it been any other trip at any other time after a drive like that, I would've plopped myself right down on one of those beds – but I found myself unable to connect with any of it. Like it was wrong. Like I shouldn't been there.