demon - camren

nine

They stuck to residential roads as much as they could on their way out of Florida, staying off the expressway and I-95. Like she'd done in the SUV, Camila had to lie on the back seat, covered. She closed her eyes, but didn't sleep – not at first. Instead, she listened to the Charger. It creaked when it turned. It seemed heavy. There was no confusing it with its modern counterparts, cars that acted as cocoons against the world around them. To ride in a modern car was to ride in a deprivation tank – to ride in the Charger was to ride in a streamlined behemoth of black metal. A beast, as Lauren called it. Camila examined her hand, tried to remember what her claws had looked like.

She was a beast, too, of course. A monster. Not a monster like her parents, though. They were predators – heartless and lethal. No, Camila was the prey, all innocence and vulnerability – except when she had her claws out. The way she had punched that boy – Brandon, his name was Brandon – hadn't been weak. She probably would have killed him if she'd hit him any harder. She wondered if she could have hit him harder. She wondered how strong she was. She wondered what she looked like. Imelda was more beautiful as a demon than as a person. Her parents, too, had been taller and stronger and more beautiful.

Camila wondered if the transformation would have the same effect on her, and found herself wondering what she'd look like taller, and slimmer, and prettier. She hoped her eyes didn't change, though. She liked her eyes. She woke when they reached Homerville, across the state line in Georgia. Lauren gave her a baseball cap and told her she could sit up front if she pulled the cap low over her brow. The further they got from Miami, she said, the safer she'd be. It was midday now. They passed through Pearson, and then Hazlehurst, and then Soperton – all brown grass and tall trees and identical houses with mailboxes by the road – and not one word was spoken the whole time.

"Thanks for doing this, " Camila said to fill the silence. Lauren nodded, didn't say anything. "I know I'm paying you, and this is just a job, but I didn't thank you earlier. I should have." She didn't say anything to that, either. A few minutes passed before she said, "Is this what it's going to be like the whole way?" She didn't take her eyes off the road. "What is this like?"

"You know, " said Camila, "the silence. The awkward, heavy, awkward silence." "You used awkward twice." "It's very awkward." "I like to drive in silence. It lets you think." "What do you do when you're done thinking? Or if you've got nothing to think about? Does the radio work? Maybe we could put on some music."

"But then we wouldn't be in silence." She sighed. "You're really not listening to me." "I like to drive in silence, " said Lauren again. "You're paying me, but this is my car and, since I like to drive in silence, we drive in silence. That's just the way it is." "Even though it makes me uncomfortable?" She shrugged. "If you can't stand to be alone with your thoughts, maybe there's something wrong with your thoughts." "Of course there's something wrong with my thoughts. I'm going through a very tough time." "We all go through tough times." "My parents are trying to kill me." "We all have issues."

"Maybe I'm suffering from post-traumatic stress. Did you think of that? Did Imelda? No. She just offloaded me on to you and now here we are. I probably need major psychiatric attention and you won't even let me listen to calm, soothing music. I could have a breakdown at any moment." "You seem fine to me, " said Lauren, not taking her eyes off the road. The endless, straight, monotonous grey road. "I'm a demon, " she said. "Like I said, we all have issues." Camila glared. "Talking to you is like talking to a ... a ... Whatever." She folded her arms and directed her glare out of the window.

She didn't intend to go to sleep. She woke to farmland and trees, a full bladder and a rumbling stomach. "Where are we?" "Outside Atlanta, " said Lauren. "You can go back to sleep if you like." She sat up straighter, pulled her cap off. "No. If I sleep any more, I won't be able to sleep tonight." The thought struck her. "Where are we sleeping tonight?" "We'll find a motel." "It better be a nice one. I've seen motels on TV and they look horrible." They approached a gas station. "Can we stop here? I'm starving. And thirsty." "There's a bottle of water in the glove box, " said Lauren, and didn't slow down.