Page 1 of Dark Knight

Chapter1

Nolan

“This pole?” Sawyer pops up over the half-raised tent with the small pole for the awning above the door, and I shake my head.

Why the fuck I thought I could do this on my own is beyond me, but my best friend Holden and his wife Noelle needed some time alone before the new baby arrived, so here I am, helpful Uncle Nolan to the rescue. Only camping is a fucking disaster. I should have rented an RV or a cabin, at least.

“This one?” His arm raises triumphantly when I confirm. Watching the kid come out of his shell over the past several months has been nothing short of a miracle.

“You’re really nailing this camping thing, bud.” His boyish grin is the only reason we continue to figure this shit out.

“It’s 'cause Dad and I camp out back all the time.” He says it like he forgets I’m there half the time too. We have a boys' night nearly every weekend.

Getting the last pole in place, I hammer in the pegs as Sawyer sits back and watches. “Looks good, yeah?” I glance over at him to see he’s holding the bag of marshmallows with a wily grin on his face.Damn, kid.“Dinner first,” I say.

Noelle made me promise to feed him more than just sugar all weekend. We have hotdogs, burgers, some pre-made breakfasts she put together for us, and enough sandwiches to last a lifetime. I don’t think Noelle believed I’d bring anything other than marshmallows, water, and beer. “Burgers or hot dogs tonight?”

Popping open the cooler, I begin pulling out the condiments and placing them on the picnic table when he finally answers. “Hot dogs. We can roast everything tonight!” His excitement is contagious.

“Let's go load up on some kindling then.”

Jumping to his feet, Sawyer races into the trees to find as many sticks as he can. I trail behind, doing my best to stop searching for trouble when there is none. It can’t seem to leave the family alone lately, though. It's been one thing after another, and I’d rather be over-prepared than under. Especially when Sawyer’s in my care.

“This enough?” He turns to me with a bundle of sticks and twigs in his arms.

“Should be,” I reply. “Don’t run with those!” I caution when he jets back to our site.

Sawyer’s story is a sad one. The growth in his confidence and his strength is something he must get from his mom because, for damn sure, no man could have the resilience that Noelle does.

“Now what?” Dropping his load next to the fire pit, he awaits my instruction.

“Place them inside like a teepee, with plenty of room in the middle, then bunch up some paper and put it in the center and a few other places around the base. I’m going to chop the wood.” Acknowledging his understanding, he begins his task while I grab from the back of my truck, the axe I brought and the wood we bought when we arrived.

Finding a spot a safe distance from where Sawyer is working, deep in concentration, I get set up and remove my shirt. It’s been a while since I chopped wood, and I'd forgotten the sweat it worked up from the exertion. Keeping an eye on the kid, I take a swing, and the block splits in half.

“Wow!” I register Sawyer’s voice and look up to catch him sitting back in his chair, now watching me. Covering his mouth with a hand, he points behind me to where the road is, and I groan, already knowing what I’ll see.

A couple of women are walking their dogs past our site and have stopped to watch the show I didn’t mean to put on when I took off my shirt.

“Ladies.” Tipping my head, I turn back around and continue chopping. Sawyer is on the ground rolling with laughter by the time I’ve finished, and as I’m bringing the wood over to the pit, I notice more women have gathered around.

“I feel dirty,” I mutter to the kid while he continues guffawing before I grab the back of his coat and haul him to his feet. “Go get the wood, you shit.”

“Ohhhh, Mom’s going to be mad you swore.” Running before I can grab him again, I know he’s right. Noelle hates when we swear in front of him. I try my best, really, I do. But I’ve spent my life usingfuckas a replacement for almost every word in the dictionary.

Reaching for my shirt, I’m about to put it on when one of the spectators catches my attention. Rail thin, paler than a white cloud, curious hazel eyes, dull brown hair, and wearing oversized clothes. She doesn’t seem to realize when the group of people she is with has begun walking away, and they don’t bother calling for her.

Intrigued, I glance from her to her group and back again, but she seems transfixed on me, conveying something with her eyes, but I haven’t a fucking clue what. When she finally jerks back to reality, I’m fucking livid that it’s because her wrists are bound with a rope being tugged by one of the older women.

“Uncle Nolan, it’s ready! I have the lighter!” Sawyer’s comment pulls my focus from the woman, and I rush to his side to make sure he’s not trying to light the fire on his own. By the time I look back to where she was, she’s gone.

* * *

Bea

“God, Bea, you’re such a drag.” My half-sister, Amari, laughs with her sister, Elsa, and my stepmother, Flora. The tug on the rope is a reminder that I can’t be left alone.

Sometimes, I wander or forget what I’m doing and where I’m going. Who I’m with. At times, I even forget who I am.

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