Alpha Alden ✔️

Chapter One

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Word Count: 1729

~Kezi

There's one thing about being a Time Traveller that I quite enjoy.

My eyes focus on a single point on the ceiling of this car. A piece of frayed fuzz hanging down. Everything else around is fazes in and out of focus. Despite seeing it so vividly, I'm floating in between realities. Different parts of my mind reach for my conscious all at once. My emotions, my thoughts.

If successful, it expels a euphoric state of pleasure that's better than any drug. It's the best way to push problems away for the meantime. Until they creep back up on me. This is my hiding spot. Right in the middle of my mind.

"Kezi, wake up," Avia's voice creeps into my conscious. Just like like early this morning.

Shielding my face with my hand, I allow myself to adjust to my surroundings. The morning light is blinding, but regardless, I attempt to assume where we are. Curving roads, rolling hills covered in dense pine. This is nowhere I know. Somewhere between Packs.

"I need gas. How about you grab some snacks from the station, and we will continue. We aren't so far away now," Avia tells me, turning in a small gas station tucked in between two hills.

I nod, despite the reluctance to step out into public after what happened early this morning.

The gas station is occupied by one red truck parked on the side, clearly belonging to one of the staff, and a small hatchback getting gas. I would feel a lot more comfortable if no one was here. Contacting anyone is dangerous and traceable. Avia and I just need to get to another Pack, change our identities, and move on.

She pulls in, and I hope out. The air around here is crisp and fresh. I'm curious. I would ask where we are if I wasn't so concerned about someone else hearing. People may get suspicious.

While Avia works on filling the car, I wander into the building, caution and snacks on my mind.

Something buzzes above my head as I walk in, my tip of my shoe nearly catching on the edge of the mat. A woman at the counter barely glances above her thick rimmed glasses, concentrating instead on the paper in her hands. Perfect.

I slip into an aisle, picking up foreign snack items, keeping them tightly pressed against my palm. Chocolate. Chips. Other indentifiable items.

Avia walks into the store just as I reach the counter. She grins at me and winks. I'm surprised she's so nonchalant about being here, in the open, with witnesses around. Surely we have been reported to officials, who now have a warrant for our arrest. A public one, too. One citizens can partake in.

Avia pays, and even has the audacity to banter with the woman at the front about the weather. She's speaks easily, smoothly, as if she has lived in the middle of nowehere all her life. This is why I trust Avia. She can talk when I cannot.

"This is dangerous," I mutter lowly to Avia as we walk back to the car.

"You're starting to sound like me," she murmurs in response, sending me a wink. I roll my eyes at her. She's awfully calm since last night, which is a new angle for her. I'm used to her imminent stress, constant head turns and cautious glances. Now I suddenly feel as though I'm compensating for her.

Our drive begins again, and I waste no time trying to find out where she is taking us.

"Where is it this time?" I question, peeling the golden packaging off a bar of chocolate. "You haven't yet shared your masterful plan. I'm concerned."