The Deep End » Outer Banks [JJ Maybank] BOOK ONE

XV: Jonah

Jonah
noun. a person who carries a jinx, one whose presence on board brings bad luck and endangers the ship.

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After getting John B to the hospital, Lee fell into a restless sleep on the couch in her living room. She woke up, feeling urgent, at 4:18 that morning, plagued by a nightmare about the motel. She sat up quickly, her heartbeat erratic as she stared at the ground to try and calm herself.

I've gotta go to that motel.

Strengthening her resolve, Lee ran upstairs and got ready. She kicked aside her flip flops in favor of her sturdier Converse. Who knew what this motel had in store for her—she wanted to be ready to run. She checked her backpack for her belongings: cellphone (useless)—check; keys—check; water bottle—check; pepper spray—check. Grimacing, Lee shoved the pepper spray into the bottle pocket on the outside of her backpack. If it came down to it, she wanted easy access to her first line of defense. Exhaling sharply, Lee tossed her backpack over one shoulder and quietly walked downstairs, avoiding creaky steps so that she wouldn't wake her mother.

The walk to the motel wasn't too long. The Cut wasn't very big, so everything was within relative walking distance. It did make her miss her dirtbike, however. If anything went wrong and she needed a quick escape, she'd now have to rely on her feet. The front of the motel was eerily familiar as Lee approached it. It was unkempt—her mother would have thrown a fit about the landscaping. Weeds grew taller than the grass, tickling Lee's shins as she trudged through towards where she knew the vending room was. She hated the idea that bugs and other critters could be lurking in the weeds where she couldn't see them, but focused her attention on more important things—like, why on Earth was this motel so familiar?

Lee couldn't recall ever coming to this hotel outside of just days ago with the Pogues. Well, she at least couldn't remember coming here sober. Whether or not she had come here high, looking for a fix, she couldn't say. But, previously when Lee had forgotten her inebriated adventures, stirring them up again only required revisiting the scene of the crime.

The concrete sidewalk outside of the vending room door was cracked, with weeds blooming through it. The motel was in desperate need of maintenance and Lee wondered when the last time a new guest had arrived was. Surely rich tourists didn't stay here. There was a Motel 8 down the street in less disrepair, at least. Not to mention the resorts lining Figure Eight.

Lee placed a hand on the doorknob and hesitated. She took a deep breath and grabbed her pepper spray in her other hand, holding it out like a police officer in a crime show as she flung open the door. The lights flickered on at the movement of the door and Lee swung her pepper spray back and forth, clearing the room of other individuals. Deciding that she was alone, Lee strolled in.

The room was coated in dust so old that Lee imagined the Pioneers had been the first to elect not to clean it. The motion-activated lights above her flickered, casting alternating beams of LED white and fluorescent yellow on the cracked concrete floor beneath her feet. Weeds blossomed through the floor in one corner near the door, where Lee could tell water damage to the ceiling allowed them to stay hydrated. The popcorn ceiling was a musty yellow color and sagged heavily—from Asbestos or water, Lee couldn't be sure. She waved a hand in front of her nose as a foul stench reached her.

Lee stepped into the middle of the room, facing the line of vending machines on the back wall and putting the pepper spray in her back pocket. The door swung shut behind her with a loud clang. It was a typical line-up: one soda machine filled with Pepsi products, one snack machine with certainly expired crackers, and an ice machine that clearly hadn't produced anything in years. Raising an eyebrow as she noticed a bag of Cheez-Its hanging on the edge of their row, Lee kicked the snack machine. The Cheez-Its fell, the sound echoing around the room. She knelt down by the machine, warily peering inside before grabbing the snack that she'd successfully acquired. Sure enough, she found an expiration date: BEST BY 02/2015.