Mule

Chapter Six: Mule

For the first time in six years Ana dreamt of that horrible day eighteen years ago. She was sixteen again, and she Derek walked ahead of her with his gun and his favorite flannel hunting jacket with the wool interior. Unlike before when he'd told her to stay behind, she followed him. She ran further and further into the woods, trying to follow his tracks but she lost them. She grew frantic and started calling out to him.

"Derek? Derek, where are you?"

A bright light flashed in front of her and she had to cover her eyes. A loud humming sound blasted the air and it grew louder and louder until she could barely hear her own screams. Forcing herself to look, she uncovered her eyes and stared up ahead. There was a dark figure coming towards her. It was small, at least four feet, and very slender. The way this figure walked; something wasn't right. The movements were too animal-like and it moved with its back hunched over. It was familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time.

"Get away from me!" she shouted. It kept approaching her, so she cocked her gun and aimed. "I said stay back!

"Anabelle?" the figure said. She lowered her gun. She recognized that voice anywhere.

"Derek?"

The figure came closer and revealed it was, in fact, him. She dropped her gun and ran toward him, throwing her arms around him. He hugged her back fiercely like she would disappear if he let go.

"I thought you were gone!" she wailed. "You can't leave me. Don't you ever leave me again."

"I can't stay, Anabelle."

She pulled back and looked up at his face. "What?"

"Stop looking. They'll find you."

The dream faded, and she opened her eyes. This was the first time she was able to get through it without waking up screaming or hysterical. It had been confusing and didn't fit into the usual pattern of her nightmares. Nothing about it made sense.

As she woke up a little more, she found she was still lying on the couch. Her brother was gone, but she had the blanket around her. Something was in her hand too. A pink rose with the stems removed.

Ana sat up, staring at it in horror. This was the third rose she'd found, and it was implausible that the person who had left it in her locker had followed her all the way to Grant County, got into her father's house, and put it in her hand without anyone waking up. Her father often reminded them that if anyone were to break in, he'd shoot first and ask questions later.

Connor strolled into the living room and sat on the couch opposite her, tying on his shoes.

"Morning, Bells," he said. "Picking flowers this early?"

She opened her mouth, trying to find the words. This wasn't the time to be worrying her dad or her brother about a potential stalker, if that was even what was happening. With the weird dream and the rose, she was at her limit, and it was barely morning.

"Yeah," she lied, setting it on the coffee table. "What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty. Dad's warming up the car. Better get dressed or he'll drag you as is."

Anabelle rushed to the bathroom and took care of business before brushing her teeth shorter than her usual routine of two minutes and fifty seconds on the top and two-fifty on the bottom. Her rule of ten wouldn't cut it today. She then threw on some comfy jeans, her boots, and just pulled a thick sweater over her bra. No time for a cute blouse, not that she had anyone to look cute for.

Swiping on some clear mascara and a nude lip gloss, she called it good. She would deal with her hair in the car. She'd grown it to her shoulder blades and added a peachy tint to make it pop more. At least that's what Britney said.