Run For Your Life

Oklahoma

Song: Blankenship by DIIV

May 14

Davis, Oklahoma is small, even smaller than Derry, which is saying a lot. Though people are still out and about, just like every other town they'd been to. And any one of these people could be like them, different and magical, but also unsafe.

Where to begin in the search, none have a clue. They'd tried in the past towns by visiting the storm's sight, as well as visiting schools, restaurants, and more. But it's hard and they can't just stick around until someone makes an appearance. Of course they want to get down to the bottom of it, but they're being hunted down as well. Besides, there was no hope in those past locations. The crowds were far too big. Not to mention the fact that no one had seen the missing people. It's as if they had disappeared out of thin air. However, the citizens had seen the Tastee Farm vans.

Despite the past letdowns, the group try to stay hopeful. There's no missing people and it's not so populated and suffocating, meaning there might be an actual chance. So they start downtown by entering what seems to be a local restaurant called Kerri's Dougherty Diner. People swarm the place, all seeming to be on the older side. Mike is grateful for this, considering they're the ones that know the talk of the town. Older men and women live for the gossip.

"Hi there, just gonna be you nine this afternoon?" A woman with a large smile and crinkled eyes appears in front of the group.

"Yes ma'am." Mike smiles politely, taking the lead. The rest look to him with odd stares. None had seen him so nice.

The woman sets them down at a table before passing a menu to each individual. She continues to smile, despite the hard work's sweat that forms at the back of her neck. "I'm Tammy. I'll be your server for this evening. Any questions?"

"Actually I do have one. There was a big storm here recently, was there not? We've been hearing about it from the next town over."

"Oh yeah, crazy big. It's funny you mention it. There was a group of men just asking about it. They left a few minutes ago, you just missed em."

"Really? That's ironic." Mike eyes each individual.

"Isn't that funny?"

"Well what did you tell them?" Mike doesn't mean to be pushy, but he doesn't really care either.

"Just the town gossip. Old Greg's kid saw the whole thing." She nods her head, proud and accomplished to tell the kids her handed down stories.

"There was a kid? In the storm?" Greta can't believe it either.

"Well not in it. Anyone who took damage from a bolt that big would surely be dead."

Mike's face scrunches uncertainly. "Do you happen to know this kid's name?"

The woman crosses her arms, obviously suspicious. Still, she gives an answer. "Emmitt."

"And d-d-do you know where h-he might be?"

Her eyebrows knit together. She's confused, anyone could tell. "No, sorry. Now can I start you off with anything?"

Mike stands, heading for the door. As do the rest of them before they get stopped by a booth of people. A girl with wavy blonde hair blocks their way. She looks on to the group with concern. "You're looking for Emmitt? Why?"

Beverly steps forward, thinking she might seem less intimidating, when really that's farthest from the truth. "He might be in danger. Like us." Her voice is hushed, but the mystery girl still hears it.

"I saw the men come in with uniforms asking for him and I thought it was too suspicious so I kept my mouth shut. But you guys, well, I think I know what's up. I know about the," she clears her throat, "I know about the secrets. And the storm."

The group of nine look to each other with hope. This means they're not alone. This means they were right all along. It also means they might get Stanley Uris back after all.

"So then do you know where he's at?" The redhead questions again.

The girl nods. "Yeah. I passed by him on the way here. He's just down the road. At the park."

The group make no more small talk as they burst through the diner doors and head off towards Tastee Farm's next victim. Hopefully they're not already too late.

They can't be too late.