Chapter 6
1277 Words
Maya left before the sun fully came up.
The street outside was quiet, the kind of quiet that made even small sounds carry—her door clicking shut, her keys shifting in her hand, her footsteps on the porch.
She didn’t turn any extra lights on inside.
Didn’t need to.
She already knew where everything was.
Her bag was packed. Shoes in hand until she reached the door.
For a second, she just stood there.
Listening.
Zion’s room was closed, no sound coming from it. Nia’s door sat cracked open, a faint glow from her nightlight stretching across the hallway floor.
The house felt full.
But still.
Denise was already awake.
Of course she was.
She stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug in her hand, dressed like she’d been up for a while. The overhead light was low, just enough to see without waking the whole house.
“You leaving now?” she asked.
Maya nodded.
“Yeah.”
Denise set her mug down.
“You got everything?”
“Yeah.”
“You got your charger?”
Maya exhaled softly.
“Yes.”
Denise stepped closer, reaching up to fix the collar of Maya’s jacket. A small thing. Familiar. Automatic.
“Call me when you land.”
“I will.”
A pause.
Not awkward.
Not emotional.
Just… there.
Then Denise stepped back.
“Drive safe.”
Maya nodded.
“Yeah.”
She grabbed her bag and stepped outside.
Didn’t look back.
⸻
The airport was loud.
Too loud.
Voices layered over each other. Announcements echoing. Bags rolling across tile. People moving like they were all late for something.
Maya moved through it like she belonged there.
But it didn’t feel like it.
Everything felt a little distant.
Like she was just passing through it instead of being part of it.
She checked her bag.
Went through security.
Found her gate.
Sat down.
Her phone buzzed.
Carla: You better text me when you land.
Maya typed back.
Maya: I will.
She slipped her phone away.
Then reached into her bag.
Pulled out the flyer.
Unfolded it.
Ryan Thorn.
Missing.
Still Alive.
Her eyes moved over the same details again.
Slow.
Focused.
Like something in her was trying to connect it to something else.
Something just out of reach.
Nothing came.
“Now boarding—”
Maya folded the paper.
Stood up.
And got in line.
⸻
The plane wasn’t full.
That was the first thing she noticed.
Enough people to fill most seats, but quiet. No real conversation. Just the low hum of people settling in.
Maya slid into her seat and buckled in.
The window beside her showed runway lights stretching into the distance.
The plane started moving.
Slow at first.
Then faster.
Then—
lift.
The ground dropped away beneath her.
The city shrank.
Everything she knew shrinking with it.
Maya leaned her head back.
Exhaled.
And just sat there.
⸻
At some point, she reached into her bag again.
Pulled the flyer out.
Held it in her lap.
Her thumb ran lightly over the crease.
Her eyes stayed on his face.
Trying to feel something.
Trying to remember something.
But it wasn’t him that pulled at her.
It was everything around him.
Everything connected to him.
Her eyes grew heavy.
She hadn’t realized how tired she was.
The hum of the plane filled the space around her.
Steady.
Constant.
Her grip loosened slightly.
Her head tilted.
And slowly—
she drifted.
⸻
The air was cooler.
Damp.
Maya stood at the edge of the woods.
Smaller.
Younger.
The ground beneath her was soft with dirt and leaves. The trees stretched high above, branches filtering the light into broken pieces that shifted with the wind.
“You coming?”
The voice came from ahead.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
Maya turned.
A girl stood a few feet away.
Already moving.
Like she expected Maya to follow.
Her clothes were normal.
Her posture relaxed.
Everything about her—
normal.
Except—
Maya couldn’t see her face.
Not clearly.
It wouldn’t stay.
Like trying to focus on something that kept slipping just out of view.
“Come on,” the girl said. “You always take forever.”
Maya frowned slightly.
“I don’t even know where we going.”
The girl laughed.
“You do too.”
And she kept walking.
Not checking.
Not waiting.
Just knowing Maya would follow.
And she did.
Because she always did.
The woods grew thicker the deeper they went.
Quieter.
The sounds from outside fading until it was just them.
Their footsteps.
The soft crunch of leaves.
“You said you had something to show me,” Maya said.
“I do.”
The girl glanced back—
or at least, Maya thought she did.
“I always do.”
Something about that made Maya slow down.
Just a little.
“Why you acting weird?” the girl asked.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Maya shook her head.
“I just… don’t remember this.”
The girl stopped.
That was new.
She turned fully this time.
Maya tried to look at her face.
Really look.
But it wouldn’t stay.
Blurry.
Wrong.
“You don’t remember?” the girl said.
Her voice had changed.
Softer.
But heavier.
“…No,” Maya said.
A pause.
Then—
“You forgot already?”
The words landed heavier than they should have.
Maya’s chest tightened.
“What did I forget?”
The air felt colder now.
Not freezing.
Just… wrong.
The girl stepped closer.
“You not supposed to forget,” she said quietly.
Maya took a step back.
“What are you talking about?”
No answer.
Just that same stillness.
Then—
“You came with me,” the girl said. “You saw it too.”
Maya shook her head.
“No, I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“No.”
The word came out sharper now.
The girl tilted her head.
Then—
softly—
“You always do this.”
Maya’s stomach twisted.
“What did I see?”
The girl smiled.
Maya couldn’t see it—
but she felt it.
“You’ll remember.”
⸻
Maya’s eyes opened.
The plane came back all at once.
The hum.
The seats.
The people.
Her hand tightened—
the flyer still there, crumpled slightly.
She looked around.
Everything normal.
Too normal.
Maya swallowed.
Her chest wasn’t racing.
But it wasn’t steady either.
Her eyes dropped to the paper.
Then back up.
That feeling—
it was stronger now.
Like something was sitting just under the surface of her memory.
Waiting.
⸻
When the plane landed, the difference was immediate.
The airport was smaller.
Quieter.
Less polished.
People moved slower.
Talked softer.
Or maybe it just felt that way.
Maya grabbed her bag and stepped outside.
The air hit her differently.
Cool.
Still.
Heavy in a way she couldn’t explain.
She paused for a second.
Then kept moving.
Rental desk.
Keys.
Paperwork.
Quick.
Efficient.
⸻
A few minutes later, she was outside again.
Standing beside a car.
Bag slung over her shoulder.
The lot wasn’t full.
The sky stretched wide overhead, pale and open.
Maya got in.
Started the engine.
Pulled out.
The road stretched ahead of her.
Long.
Quiet.
Empty.
And somewhere down it—
was a place she hadn’t seen in years.
A place she wasn’t sure she ever really left.
A sign stood off to the side of the road up ahead.
Worn.
Slightly tilted.
Easy to miss if you weren’t looking.
But Maya was.
Red Hollow – 27 miles
Her grip tightened slightly on the wheel.
Then she kept driving.
- Writer
