2: Committed to a Bright Future
1176 Words
2: Committed to a Bright FutureMelissa shrugged her backpack onto her shoulder to keep it from falling any farther down her arm and stuck out her thumb at the oncoming traffic. She had reached US Route 95 South on foot but realized quickly she needed something that traveled faster than a teenage girl’s legs, especially if she were to get anywhere out of the searchable vicinity. She crossed her fingers that any Goody Two-Shoes who might be concerned about a young girl hitchhiking and who might inform the local authorities would roll on by and that only a Good Samaritan willing to help her in her cause would stop to pick her up.
The next batch of headlights approached, and she leaned the top of her body across the fog line to be more visible to the drivers. She just needed one … The gaggles of vehicles sped past, kicking slush onto her pants, without stopping. The sound of engines and tires rolling faded, and Melissa hefted her bag again before trudging southbound.
Images of the metal-adorned, maroon-colored, leather-bound book of spells and the bronze horse paperweight inside her bag consumed her thoughts as she walked. Flashes of Vicki’s bloodied head and Stepp’s disconnected heart back at the attorney’s office, plus her grandfather’s body lying on her bedroom floor, superimposed themselves over the here and now of the dark highway.
She smirked when her thoughts landed on the realization that she was poised to be Anya’s successor and may inherit her power and knowledge, once the witch successfully located the real Chosen One and becomes immortal—divine.
A blur of black caught her eye, and she looked skyward. She stopped walking to focus on the small tornado-like swirl of a kettle of vultures overhead.
As if the vultures realized Melissa had spotted them, they descended toward the highway shoulder. They gracefully landed a few yards ahead of her and approached in unison.
The intimidation and fear Melissa would once have felt in the vultures’ presence was now replaced with a calmness and a sense of possessiveness. “Lookin’ for me?”
The vultures stopped and bobbed their heads.
“Alright, fine. I’ll come to you.” Melissa headed toward where they had stopped and stood in front of them.
The lead vulture c****d its head and, with a chin lift, gestured to the backpack around her shoulder.
Melissa pointed to the strap. “You want something in here?”
The vulture darted its head to the other side, as if in confirmation.
Melissa let the bag slump to her bent elbow, unzipped it, and reached inside. “Did Anya send you for the book? Because she gave it to me. I’m keeping it safe until we can find the real sacrifice.”
The lead vulture flapped its wings without taking flight.
“See?” Melissa removed the book and cradled it in the crook of her other elbow. “It’s safe.”
The vultures yapped in unison and launched into the sky as Melissa felt a hand on her shoulder. Black fabric fluttered in her peripheral vision.
“Do we have a destination, or are we just migrating south for the winter?”
Melissa chortled as she turned toward the pale face behind the black veil. “Just trying to get outta here as fast and as quietly as possible.”
“And, by quietly, you mean, leaving a wake of arson, murder, and witchcraft as you depart?” Anya nodded. “Sounds like a solid plan, sport.”
Melissa harrumphed and resumed walking again. “Can you ever discuss something without being sarcastic first? It’s getting old.”
“Funny,” Anya said, keeping pace behind her apprentice. “Your grandfather said the same thing to me for decades. Guess you can’t teach old cats new tricks.”
“Don’t talk about him right now.”
“I saw what you did.” Anya quickened her step and walked alongside Melissa now. “I was dealing with Baron—damn nosy, wannabe warlock barkeep—when you were … handling Smith. I reviewed it later.”
Melissa eyed Anya. “Is he dead?”
“Do you care?”
Melissa stared at the ground and tightened her lips, considering the question.
“You must not, or you would’ve answered right—”
“I don’t know! Okay? I don’t know how I feel anymore.”
Anya lovingly put her hand on Melissa’s elbow. “Maybe you were too young to bring into the fold. I should have waited.”
“I didn’t expect all the … c*****e to happen so fast. At Stepp’s office, at my house. Everything was going to plan, then poof! Everything spun out of control.” She swiped the length of her sleeve under her nose to catch the snot and tears mixed with the snow flurries that had collected on her upper lip. “We had the Chosen One. Dead to rights.”
“Sometimes things change. And we have to change with them.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Melissa rolled her eyes.
They walked in silence until the sound of another batch of vehicles overshadowed the crunch of the snow under their soles.
“You gonna do that thumb thingy?” Anya asked, watching the procession of cars pass.
“Nah, I want to walk right now. Clear my thoughts.”
Anya nodded. “You do know who you’re walking with, right?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Anya shook her head. “I won’t ask you again, child. Where are you headed? I know you have picked somewhere, so don’t give me the ‘anywhere but here’ line. I can see right through you.”
Melissa sighed. “Thought I’d go see Uncle Hank in Vegas.”
“Whatever for? That old coot is closer to death than Smith.”
Melissa halted. “So … Grandpapa is still alive?”
Anya studied Melissa from the corner of her eye. “You do care!”
“Yeah …” She kicked a pebble into the roadway. “A little.”
“He’s alive but not yet stable. And again, why Hank?”
“Uncle Hank has always been there for me. And he lives far enough away where I could hide out there. And I think he’d protect me. He wouldn’t rat me out to my parents.”
“And how are you so sure?”
“I dunno.” Melissa shrugged and continued walking. “Just a hunch. Uncle Hank’s … different.”
“And you thought a teenage girl, during the holidays, would just easy-peasy hitchhike almost three thousand miles without as much as an eyebrow raise? Do you know how many drivers you’d need?”
“I was hoping to get lucky.”
Anya choked on her laugh as the fabric from her black robe flapped behind her in the wind. “Lucky enough to find that one schmuck who’s driving from Massachusetts to Nevada? You are thick, child. What if an unsavory character tried anything inappropriate?”
“I have Dad’s gun. I found it in his sock drawer.”
“You just have all the answers. Got it all figured out, huh?”
“And I’m powerful now.”
Anya scoffed. “Don’t get cocky.”
“Like you did with Rose Covington?” Melissa eyed the witch. “Plus, I can shoot laser beams from my eyes to move things.”
“Ah, yes. Poor Madam Hapney’s beloved desk.”
Both women giggled together.
“Now that I am Stepp’s replacement and the Mushroom Cult leader, I also thought it would be fitting to return the operation to Vegas, where my family’s involvement started.”
“So, this is a sentimental full-circle kind of thing? I didn’t peg you for the sort. But I like your moxie, child. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“What—”
Before Melissa could finish her question, everything turned purple, and she felt like her bones had accelerated faster than her skin was traveling.
- Writer
