Page 41 of Catching Camila

Camila

Thursday 7:54 p.m.

Camila stared at the stranger in front of them, a raw anxiety snapping through her like an electric current. Tall and broad shouldered, John and this strange man could’ve been brothers with their dark brown hair and brown eyes. This guy looked four or five years older with long wavy locks, olive skin and a pouty mouth set in an impish smirk. The stranger had on a white Haynes T-shirt, board shorts and flip-flops, like he was ready for a beach party. And he was eating a whole cake out of the baker's box. The chocolate frosting clung to his fingers as he took another giant handful and chewed. He tossed the box into the weeds and brushed his hands on his shorts.

Was she dreaming? Camila blinked and shook her head. Nope. Just losing her marbles.

“Who are you?” John asked, not moving, not even blinking. His forearms tensed.

The man chewed a few more times, then shook his head. “Are you kidding?” His voice was still thick with cake. “Gods, Jopari, I've been all over this hell-hole looking for you. We were supposed to meet here two days ago, and you never showed. What happened to you this time? And who’s the broad?”

The broad? Camila crossed her arms over her chest, indignation swelling.

John just stood dazed.

The guy pulled a plastic soda bottle from his shorts' pocket and took a swig, shaking his head. “Ah, damn it. Total wipe? Gods, we’ve had a lot of trouble this time around.” He strode forward and peered into John’s eyes like a doctor.

John stumbled back.

“Who are you?” Camila said, stepping forward. “What're you doing?” She planted herself in front of the stranger and glared at him.

The stranger laughed, sending a wave of goose bumps up her arms. “Where’d you find her, Jo? The back of the line at the Jersey Shore auditions?” He snorted at his joke, then raised a dark eyebrow at Camila. She frowned. He held his soda out in her direction. “Thirsty?” She shook her head. He shrugged and took a huge gulp. “I love Mountain Dew.” He glanced at the bottle. “How do they come up with this stuff?”

Camila frowned. “Who are you?”

The stranger stepped closer, peering down at Camila, more amused than annoyed. He waggled one dark eyebrow. “I could tell you who I am, sweetheart, but if I tell ya,” he lifted the corners of his mouth mischievously, “I gotta kill ya.”

“Enough!” John stepped between Camila and the stranger and peered into his face. Was that some recognition dawning behind all the confusion?

The stranger slapped a hand on John’s shoulder. John stiffened, but the stranger tugged him forward. John reluctantly followed him. They stopped a few feet away, heads bowed together and began whispering. What were they saying? Camila couldn't help it. She tiptoed close enough to catch their words.

“…thought you’d come alone, Jo. Can’t blame ya cause of the difficulties with your noggin, but this chick,” he shook his head, “she complicates things, my friend.”

Oh God, this guy made her mad. “I can hear you,” Camila said, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Course you can, sweetheart,” the stranger said, stepping back. He addressed them both now, spreading his arms wide like he was giving a speech. “You two can call me Nomad. Jopari, John, whoever you are these days, I need you to meet me back here in an hour. Alone.” He stressed the word, looking at Camila.

She frowned. “Why should he?”

“Because,” he said, smirking, “if he doesn’t, he’ll never know who he is or where he came from.”

Camila looked up at John. His eyes were still trained on Nomad. Somehow that made her angry. “Why should he trust you?”

Nomad dug a candy bar out of his pants and took a huge bite. Then he continued with his mouth full. “He knows why, he just doesn't remember. If you don’t come, John, you’ll never know what is hunting the nice people of this town.” He flashed Camila a set of perfect teeth, marred with gobs of chocolate. “And you’ll never know how to stop it.”

He turned and strode through the long grass and into the trees. The shadows curled around him until he was a blotch of darkness, until he was a swish of leaves in the distance.

Camila stared after him.

What the hell had just happened?

She watched John stare toward the wooded path were Nomad had disappeared. John’s face was twisted into a look of torment. Camila put a hand delicately on his arm. He jumped at the touch, his eyes finding hers, his face melting into a look of dejection. She withdrew her hand and tugged on her shirt instead.

She sighed. “You were on another planet for a minute there.”

John stiffened, then let out a nervous laugh. Then his face fell. His eyes tracked to the woods that had swallowed Nomad up.

Good riddance to bad rubbish was all she could think.

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