Page 1 of Wandering Witch

Farren

Igroaned, dragged my feet along the dirty sidewalk and tried to pull myself into my jacket. It may have only been early May at this point, but I swore the temperature refused to get warmer in the mornings. Why did work have to start so Goddess damned early?

The sun had not even risen for the day, yet there I was trudging my way down an empty, trash-strewn sidewalk in a not-so-nice part of the smallish town I currently lived in. Two hours of sleep left me stumbling as I spotted my target as soon as it crested the horizon.

A twenty-four-hour truck stop. The lights beamed like a beacon, one to summon me to warm food and coffee.

I stumbled into the oversized gas station and beelined for the diner side of the building. Inside the dining area, a couple of the seats were filled with random patrons, every single one of them looking just as worn as I felt. I recognized a couple of the diners, and those that chose to meet my gaze, I returned a nod in greeting. The rest of them ignored me for their platters of food as I made my way to the long counter and an empty chair.

I had just plopped my ass in my seat when the brightest ray of sunshine strode towards me with an off-white ceramic coffee mug in one hand and a large decanter of coffee.

“Jocelyn, you are a blessing sent by the Goddess!” She laughed as she placed the mug before me and filled it to the top.

“You say that almost every morning, Farren.”

“Only because it’s the honest truth.” We grinned at each other as she wrote down my breakfast order and walked away.

Once I was left alone, I wrapped my frozen fingers around the warming mug. I sighed in delighted contentment as I sipped the hot liquid and felt its heat seep into my bones.

I was just contemplating moaning as I refilled my cup with the decanter Jocelyn had left for me when she reappeared with my platters of food. She laughed at the look on my face as I marveled at the dark river that flowed from one container to the other.

“Careful there, Fare. You make any messes, you clean them up,” she scolded.

I grinned up at her like a fool before I refocused on the food laid out before me. She left me alone with my mounds of food, and I dug in before she could even walk away.

About halfway through my meal, the sun had finally risen enough to start lighting up the restaurant. Jocelyn had just replaced my coffee decanter with a new, full, hot one, and dropped off the check with a to-go box should I need it. As I sat back in my seat to debate whether or not I wanted to finish the food now or later, sirens flew down the road behind me.

Curious, I turned on my stool to watch as first, one emergency vehicle went by, then two more, followed by another one before a flood roared by.

“I wonder what’s going on?” Jocelyn asked into my ear as she leaned over the counter to watch beside me.

I shrugged even as a heavy weight settled in my stomach. It could very well be nothing more than a severe accident. Or it could be the darkness that had followed me my entire life, chasing me from place to place.

However, the longer we sat there and watched the emergency flood rush by, the heavier the weight pulled down my shoulders. Eventually, I couldn’t take the unease that roiled in my gut and laid out enough cash to cover my bill. That done, I rose to my feet, thanked Jocelyn for the meal, and dashed out of the dinner.

Panic rushed through my veins as I pushed and shoved my way through the crowd congesting the sidewalk, slowly making their way in the direction of potential disaster. I wasn’t sure what I would find waiting on the other side of the river of wannabe onlookers.

A tiny part of me hoped it would be my stalking shadow, just enough to prove to myself that I still had enough humanity in me to not wish fatal harm onto others.

But a much larger, and far darker side of my heart hoped it was either some horrible natural disaster or that some person had finally had enough of something and snapped. Please, please let this be some horrible accident. Let someone have left the stove on and passed out on the couch.

Something told me that luck would not be on my side. And that feeling only got worse as I stumbled along another block with the crowd. It was roughly then that I realized which direction we were going.

We were heading directly towards the warehouse district where I worked. Not many, if any, residential dwellings there.

I swallowed hard. When my phone vibrated in my pocket, I pushed my way out of the herd and into a small crack between buildings. With shaking hands, I glanced down at my phone’s screen. Text messages flooded the device, I had several new messages from various coworkers that I was friendly enough with. They varied from the usual complaints about not wanting to wake up and go to work and the hassle of getting kids up for school and daycare, to warnings about something feeling off at the warehouse where we worked.

Each text only appeared to get more and more desperate. By the time I had scrolled through all of those messages, several more from my boss had arrived.

Boss: Sarah.

My name’s not Sarah, it’s Farren, but whatever.

Boss: Don’t come in today.

Boss: There’s been an incident.

Boss: The police are here.

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