Page 21 of Trapped: Until The Darkest Of Night

Does she like me? Is that why she’s so shy? That thought turns me on and I grow even bolder. “Stand still. Keep calm.” When she looks at me again, my smile is real. I’m glad I can talk about something I know about. “Just wait until it goes away. If it comes closer, you should sing or clap your hands—loud noises will scare most black bears off.”

“Okay.” Her whisper sends a hot-cold shiver down my spine. She puts the can back. “I’m supposed to buy a camping lantern. Do you know anything about them?”

“To hang or to put on the table?” I keep my eyes on her. Without realizing it, she gets more and more involved in the fight, not feeling the individual blows that gradually force her to the ground.

“To put on the table.” She clears her throat awkwardly. Her fingers fiddle with a chain. I can’t see its details, but I hear a faint tinkle. No question, she’s nervous. A prancing opponent.

“I forgot our lanterns at home and my brother sent me here to buy new ones,” she adds as if it matters.

I just nod. That gives away nothing after all. I turn to the shelf and grab one of the top camping lanterns. It has a yellow SZ on its bulging body so I can identify the brand without needing to read the price tag. “Solarez are the best. They give off plenty of light without blinding you.” I hold out the lamp to her, but she doesn’t take it from me, just looks at it from all sides. As if she had a clue about technology. In the end, her gaze lingers on my scar, at least that’s what I imagine. With all my might, I suppress the dark memory that rises up inside me like black slag and that clogs my thinking.

“I’m Louisa,” she says suddenly, looking up at me with disarming frankness.

My friends call me Lou.

“Bren.” I can’t stop looking at her, even though all I can see is a blurred mixture of blue and blonde. What would she say if I just invited her over to my RV for a drink? What if she stayed with me forever willingly? If she would promise to never leave me?

“Just Bren?” She pulls me out of my thoughts.

I blink dazedly and curse myself for being so easily distracted. I swear it won’t happen to me again. Lou can look as innocent as she wants to.

“Brendan,” I reply softly, looking at the cash register. Luckily, the cashier doesn’t pay any attention to us, I don’t think he even noticed I was talking to Lou. Otherwise, there is hardly anyone in the store who could possibly remember me later on. Just an unnerved mother who keeps her son from shoving tin cans off the shelves and a couple who are madly in love and who only have eyes for each other. Nevertheless, I have to go now if my story with the bear is to be believable afterward.

“I’ve gotta go.” I hand Lou the camping lamp and, sounding rather harsh, I add, “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

She smiles. “Are you staying a while?” Is there disappointment in her voice?

I look at the couple in love who are in the middle of a deep kiss. “Couple more days.”

“Same here.”

“Yeah.” I know. I nod to her. “Later.”

“Yes.”

I clutch the thawing frozen items to my stomach and disappear before the mother and the couple can get a better look at me.

I want to turn my head back to Lou, but that might arouse suspicion.

As I cross the parking lot, my thoughts race. What am I gonna do with this damn frozen food? There’s no way I can keep it with me, I want Lou to think I’ve put it away. Suddenly, it seems to me that my logical thinking has left me. Or should I take it with me?

I walk down the dirt road toward the Scrivers’ campground and spontaneously dump the frozen items into one of the big dumpsters.

I look around the area appraisingly. The evening sun lies pale behind a layer of clouds and only a few single golden-red rays hit the ground. Above me, the wind whips through the gigantic treetops. No one is around, no one on the path. They’re probably all sitting together in front of their campfires, eating steaks and drinking beer. The perfect time.

I walk back, keeping an eye on the visitor center’s exit. It’s about a hundred yards to the access road when I see Lou coming out, lantern in hand. She pauses for a moment and it looks like she’s playing with one of the camping lanterns.

If she asks me about the frozen food, I can still claim I bought them for a friend. My hand instinctively goes to the outside pocket of the cargo pants where I stowed the chloroform. Again, I feel this intense, deep burning—a mixture of anticipation, fear, and excitement.

Not much longer now.

As I cross the road and enter the parking lot, she spots me. While she appears surprised, it doesn’t seem to be an unpleasant one to her.

I approach her with determination and mentally play through the maneuver that was repeatedly drummed into me before fights.

Attack. Feign backing off. No give-away moves. Breathe deeply. Attack again. This time with all force.

Jordan Price pops into my head, but I push the memory of him away.

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