Page 5 of Hades

Unlike Carley when she left, Devon slams the door behind him, making Hades and me jump. Without missing a beat, Hades leaps on the couch and rests his head on my lap.

“Well, where do we want to go?” I ask my trusty K9 companion, who just huffs and rubs his head against my hand.

“I agree. It should be someplace far. Ohhh, we could go to Paris. Would you like to go to Paris and meet a nice French Bulldog?” Hades gives me a huff. “Or not. How about London?” I ask, and he shuts his eyes in response. “Continental US, it is.”

Grabbing my phone, I type in a quick search for the furthest cities in the US from Sacramento, CA. I hit the first Google page and read: The farthest domestic city from Sacramento, CA, is Boston, MA…

“Whelp, my friend, it looks like we’re heading to Boston,” I inform him as I scratch behind his ears. Hades looks up at me with his big, brown eyes, and I can almost see a smile on his face. He’s game for an adventure.

~

It only takes me a day to pack up everything I own from our… Devon’s apartment. The fact that I don’t own a piece of furniture here is quite telling. Everything in it belongs to Devon. Every spoon, bowl, and even the toothbrush holder is his, and was here when I moved in.

Everything I own has been in storage for six months. He had everything, so there was no point in mixing our things. In retrospect, that really should have been the second clue that the relationship wouldn’t work out.

Luckily, the storage facility I’ve been using offers shipping, so once I’m settled in as an east coast girl, I’ll send for my things.

I walk around the apartment for one last time with Hades by my side. He seems to know we’re about to move on to something better. Strangely, I thought I would feel something more knowing that this part of my life is over, but I don’t.

Relief maybe?

Excitement…definitely.

But there is no sadness. It’s as if my mind and body know I am on the right path. Even Hades knows it as he nudges my leg as if to tell me to hurry up.

Outside I send Devon a text.

ME: The key is in the mailbox. Take care.

I watch the dots jump around, stop, and then jump again, but no text ever comes through.

Again, I want to feel something, but I don’t.

“Ready to go, buddy?” Hades wags his tail and jumps into the passenger seat of my Jeep. Normally I wouldn’t let him ride up front, but every spare inch of space is filled with our belongings. He has his harness seatbelt on, so I buckle him in before jumping into the driver’s seat.

With only one destination in mind, we pull away from one life and move toward another. I’ve mapped out our route to make stops and see sights as we cross the country. My marketing job is 100% remote, so as long as I meet my deadlines, no one cares where I’m working from.

Our first stop is Sin City.

Pressing my foot to the gas pedal, I take one final look at what I thought would be my home. “Let’s go,” I say to my loyal companion as I rub his head.

The drive is easy as we make our way down the California coast, yet I can’t shake the feeling that someone or something is following us. I do everything I’ve been told to do when I get these feelings. I reassure myself that I am not being followed. I look back and see nothing but an empty road and try to breathe through the feeling.

“No one is following me,” I whisper to myself repeatedly. Yet the feeling remains.

I should be used to these feelings by now. I’ve had them all my life, and not once has anyone ever followed me any place. Combine that with my bizarre dreams, and I’m a first-class weirdo.

Most of the ride is completely uneventful, with only Hades and me stopping to do our business and eat. It isn’t until Hades starts barking when we’re on the I-15 that the feeling of being followed creeps back in. The road is long, and I can see for miles behind. At least, it seems like miles, and there isn’t a car in sight. But Hades is barking as if the Amazon delivery guy is chasing us down the street.

I can feel my heart race, and the familiar feeling of a panic attack begin to raise its unwelcome head.

“There is no one following you, Aradia. It’s just your imagination,” I say aloud, yet I can’t shake the feeling. And Hades insistent barking isn’t helping the situation. “What do you see, silly dog?” I ask, half expecting an explanation.

When he looks up through the open roof of the Jeep, I follow his gaze and see what has him so agitated. A large, black bird is gliding overhead… following us.

“Well, I guess that’s better than a serial killer following us,” I inform him as I pet his head. “You’re such a good guard dog.”

Our new feathered friend continues with us, and when it swoops down to glide alongside the Jeep, I know it’s not my imagination. It’s following us, although that can’t be possible, can it?

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