Through the light of the flashlight from the phone, Colt watched the boy dab at his face with his sleeve. The fabric came back darker than it had been. Colt couldn't imagine how much of a mess he was looking.
"You're not gonna answer?" The boy continued, checking himself over, wiping more blood from his face. Colt could see the drops darkening the ground.
Colt shrugged, even though he wasn't sure he could be seen in the dark. "What do you want me to say? Apologize for coming to check if you're okay?"
"I didn't ask you to."
Teenagers had a way of crawling under Colt's skin and staying there. They were too high-and-mighty, too dumb for their own good. So Colt turned, his shoes crunching on the gravel.
"If you need a place to wash up," he called over his shoulder as he moved away. "I'm staying in one of the apartments on the edge of town. See you later."
"Hey, hey! Alright." There was the sound of running feet behind him and the ground in front of Colt was suddenly illuminated by light as the boy fell in step beside him.
"Just to wash up, though," The boy said. "I'm not sucking your cock or anything."
Colt winced, shooting the boy a side-glance. "I didn't ask you to. Plus, you're a minor."
"You never know in this town," the boy continued. "Gotta lay down the boundaries early. I'm Mike, by the way. You work with teens?"
"No, why?"
"You're like the people at the youth center. It's just down the road there. Professionals don't argue with teens when we're being jerks."
"Thanks?"
Silence engulfed them for the remainder of the walk back.
Colt led the way to his apartment and opened the door, turning on the lights. He'd been right, Mike was a mess. Blood stained his clothes, still steadily dripping from his nose, but it didn't look broken. Darkening bruises highlighted his face and Mike was holding his stomach with one arm.
"Bathroom's through there," Colt said, pointing at the door. "Wash up, take a shower if you want. Whatever."
"You're not staying long, I guess," Mike said, looking around at the sparse apartment.
"Just a few days."
"You said your name was Colt? Like Colton?" Mike moved through the apartment, stepping around the air mattress that was Colt's bed.
"Just Colt."
The bathroom door closed and Colt could hear the water at the sink turning on. Colt filled his cup from the kitchen sink. It was a plastic cup, the type people took camping, and was light enough to fit in his pack without adding too much weight.
He took his cup out onto the balcony and looked into the trees. Colt wondered whether he'd sleep more that night, or if he'd stay awake until dawn. Working with Chuck in the mornings wasn't something he was used to, not anymore.
Inside the apartment, Colt heard the bathroom door open, and the kid came out. He was pulling his shirt back over his head. The blood was gone from his face, making him look a little better.
"Well, thanks," Mike stepped out onto the balcony. "I hope someone will still pick me up all covered in blood."
Worry gnawed at Colt's stomach at that.
"Pick you up?" Colt tried not to let his concern show through his tone, but it clearly still showed as was evident by Mike's laugh.
"I gotta hitchhike on the way home. I don't live in town."
"Ah."
"I'm not a slut, you know. People just hate gay people here. I hear the cities are more progressive. That's why I'm graduating early and getting the hell out of here."
Colt listened, nodding. "I never said you were a slut."
"So you didn't. Well, I'm off and... thanks, I guess."
"Sure. Get home safe."
He couldn't say what time it was when he woke the next morning. The apartment was already beginning to get hot and muggy, so Colt guessed it was late morning, maybe even encroaching into afternoon territory. He lie there, blinking and staring out the window at the trees that were so close. At first he thought that it had been the heat, or the morning sun that had woken him up, he was never comfortable if he was too warm, but as he lie there, Colt's attention was drawn to the ruckus somewhere outside. The town was small. Traffic was kept to a minimum and with such a small population, there wasn't the constant hum of noise like in the city. Now, however, there was a murmur outside that drew Colt from his bed.
He pulled on his clothes and ran his hands through his hair to for it into what he hoped was at least something halfway decent before exiting the apartment building.
It was the kind of noise Colt only picked up because he'd spent so much time away from the city in recent months. The sound of movement, of vehicles and human voices.
Across the soccer fields on Main Street, everyone had gathered in front of the store. The grocery and liquor store was usually the most bustling place on Main Street. Cars were always parked outside of it, and people hung out on the benches out front. Sometimes people played guitar, chatted, or read a book.
Colt strode past the restaurant where the cook still sat, as though he hadn't moved since the first day. Colt raised a hand in a gesture, a friendly wave, but only got a grumpy frown in response.
The crowd in front of the store were milling about with an uneasy energy. Colt didn't recognize most of the people there, and there were other people sitting a little further away. They were travelers with their backpacks, flip flops, sun-red skin, and guitar cases. Colt sidled up to them after a moment's hesitation. Their hair was rolled into mats under their colourful bandanas.
"What's going on?" Colt asked, glancing at the crowd.
"Dunno." A droopy-eyed guy told him.
"Some kind of... get together." A girl responded, her voice thick.
Colt's shoulders drooped. He'd picked the wrong side.
Now that he was standing there, with the other travelers, he felt that he needed to commit, but the smell of beard oil was testing his patience, and he took a few slow steps back until he found himself standing by himself. Colt was just an outsider looking in. Was this town's business really something he should get involved in? He turned, looking up the main road that eventually led out of town. Chuck did tell him that there was a better bakery outside town, just up the highway. Maybe he'd try and hitch a ride there to check it out. Was there a bus that went that way?
A low rumble of voices swelled through the crowd and Colt saw Chuck's large frame approaching the group. Walking a pace in front of him was his wife. Her eyes were kind, but her shoulders were squared and determined. They got closer and it was her who addressed the crowd.
"Thank you for coming out," Lorayne said, though Colt got the impression that the crowd was more of a hindrance than a help for her. "To ease your worry, there was a party last night. I'm sure that's where Abi ended up. She probably went to a friend's house afterwards and with no cell service in the valley, we have yet to hear from her. We're just going to give it some more time."
Abi, she must have been talking about their daughter, Abigail.
"He was fraternizing with the Felcon boy." A woman was pointing a long finger at Colt, making the crowd turn on him. "I saw him leaving that man's apartment in the middle of the night last night. How do we know he isn't holding your daughter hostage? He's a stranger to this town."
YOU ARE READING
The Wizard's Herbarium: The Wolf Child
FantasyAfter the death of his son and, struggling with his own grief, Colt hits the road. He finds himself in a small town where the wizard, Atticus, protects the magical creatures that live there. Shortly after arriving, Colt begins to see visions of whit...