Page 43 of Twisted Hearts

24Megan

The squealand stutter of the tires reached me as I gripped the seat cushion to stay upright. My fingers clawed into the upholstery like a frantic cat being lowered into a pool of water. Aaron had turned onto what I assumed was a dirt road. It wasn’t as rutty or bumpy as the road to Aaron’s house, but we had left the smooth surface of asphalt.

An unfamiliar sound made my ears perk. A crunching noise registered, but it wasn’t rocks that the wheels crushed as we bounced about.

“If they come into these woods, they’d better know them better than me,” Aaron muttered, as he glanced back.

His statement let me know that we’d entered the woods and it was twigs snapping under the tires as we drove. Although the windows were rolled most of the way up, I could still make out the low whine of insects and the sweet melody of birds’ songs welcoming us. The earthy scent that crept into the trucks interior was another clue that we were under the cover of leaves and branches.

Aaron was betting on the fact that he knew the woods well enough to beat whoever the hell was chasing us. He was leading those that hunted us out back. If there was one thing Copper County had a lot of, it was out back.

After minutes of bouncing over the rugged terrain of the wooded path we’d taken, the view that swallowed us was of trees whose willowy limbs, heavy trunks, and fat shimmering leaves allowed only flickers of light to peek through. Leaves and pebbles rained down on the truck as we rolled towards our destination.

The sun had already started to make its descent since it was late evening, and its orange glow made it appear that we were on the reverse side of a nature painting. The deeper we went, the darker my wooded view grew. The thickening of the trees dimmed the light and allowed darkness to take over. Another sharp turn sent my body careening again before the squeak of the brakes brought the truck to a sudden stop.

“Come on, Megan, follow me,” Aaron called back after he slung his squeaking door open.

The first thing I did was grab the gun I’d taken from the glove compartment before I climbed into the seat, hopped over the center console, and followed Aaron out of his door.

He shoved one of his guns down the back of his jeans and kept the other aimed and ready to shoot.

“I saw you take a gun. You still have it?” he asked without glancing down at me.

“Yes,” I answered, my breath rushing too fast out of my mouth as my feet raked over the grass and twig-lined surface below.

“Good girl,” he called back to me as he took off towards the back of his truck.

He opened the bed cover of his truck, reached in blindly and dragged out a large duffle bag. He slung the bag over his shoulder and left the hatch of his truck open. He walked back towards me, adjusting some object in his hand. When he shut the driver’s side truck door behind me, the interior light went off, leaving us in darkness.

“Let’s go. Stay close,” he directed. “If you see anyone that’s not me, shoot the motherfucker.”

“Okay,” I said without protest, although I wondered how I was supposed to shoot at anything in the dark. The night hadn’t taken over, but the trees were thick enough to cast our surroundings in enough shadow that it could very well have been night.

Aaron navigated the dark, uneven terrain smoothly. Insects continued to call even as my trampling steps disturbed their homes. Although Aaron wore heavy boots, his footsteps were as light as a sneaky cat’s. We hiked about two hundred paces away from the truck before Aaron directed me into some type of dugout or ditch. How he saw anything was beyond me because I could hardly see my shadowy hands in front of my face.

“Here, Megan, lay here flat on your stomach. I’ll help you put these on.”

I climbed into the hole, which wasn’t as deep as the dark view had led me to believe it was. About two or two and a half feet deep, the hole was wide and long enough for me to fit and lay comfortably inside.

The soft roar of engines and the crunch of twigs and leaves snapping under tires alerted us that multiple vehicles were approaching. I couldn’t tell if there were two vehicles or five, but I was certain there was more than one. They must have cut their headlights off because the engine noises indicated they were close, but I didn’t see any visible light.

When Aaron slipped something plastic and metal over my head and dropped it over my eyes, I didn’t move. I didn’t even breathe because I had no idea what was going on until he flipped a switch. A low wheezing sounded before my dark view turned into a green one.

Night vision goggles? What the?

This was how Aaron could see. What was he doing with this type of equipment?

Careful twig-breaking footsteps and the unmistakable clicks of weapons being charged was what funneled into my ears. Sounds seemed different here in the woods—more sharp, crisp, and distinct.

Aaron placed my hand on what I discerned was a metal knob.

“Adjust the sight using this knob. Stay low and if it doesn’t look like me, aim for the head in case they’re wearing armor, and don’t hesitate. Shoot,” he instructed in a low tone.

Before I could get a word out, he was climbing out of the hole I was in. The night goggles gave me the ability to see him running back towards his truck or towards what could well have been an army of men.

The view through the goggles was green, glowing, and unsteady, and I didn’t know enough about them to know if this view was normal or if it needed further adjusting. Nothing had distinct or crisp shapes or colors. Everything was glow-light green and seemed to float across my vision.

“Fuck,” I murmured when I felt something slithering across the backside of one of my legs. My teeth sank deep into my bottom lip before I went stock still. Thank God, I’d changed into jeans. In the background, I thought I heard the rambling sounds of a fight, but my mind was consumed with the creature on my leg.

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