Creed (2 page)

“Relax, Dee. It’s gonna be fine.” Luke pulled his jersey around me tighter, his gaze lingering on the number three—his number—on my chest, and a look of appreciation lit up his face. “Looks better on you than me.”

It actually looked best rolled up in a ball at the foot of his bed next to my shoes and jeans, but I didn’t say that. Not with Mike listening from the back seat.

“Stay here,” Luke said as he slipped on his gloves. “There’s got to be a town nearby. Mike and I will go find some gas.”

I stared at him, my mind racing through a thousand juvenile scenarios. Each of them ended up with me hacked to pieces by the local crazy man. “Yeah … no. I’m going with you.”

I cocked my head, daring Luke to challenge me. He smiled, shrugged out of his jacket, and wrapped it around my shoulders. His fingers wound tightly into mine and
I sighed, feeling a momentary sense of peace. Luke would walk through hell for me, and, given the walls I’d made him tear down when we first started dating, I had no reason to doubt him now.

The hazy possibility of a town shone through the sleet, the lights barely visible from where we sat. Even if Luke was right and we were close to another gas station, I doubted we’d make it there before we froze to death.

I forced myself to open my door again, the wind cutting through me like a steel blade. Luke was already rummaging through a black bag in the trunk. He found a flashlight and flicked it on, the narrow beam illuminating the side of the road.

“Let’s go,” he said. “The sooner we find gas, the sooner we can get back on the road.”

I looked at Luke, my gaze landing on what appeared to be a tire iron lodged in his left hand. “You bringing that?” I asked, suddenly wishing we’d decided to sit in the car, blow off the concert, and flag down the next person who drove by.

“Sure am,” Luke said.

I shook my head and fought the urge to laugh. There was zero chance of someone helping us now. I mean, who in their right mind was going to stop for three kids, especially one carrying a tire iron?

I glanced back toward the car, unnerved to see that it was quickly fading away behind us. We’d barely walked a quarter-mile, and yet our car was already veiled in ice. I put my hand in Luke’s, praying that the town was closer than it looked.

TWO

The town definitely wasn’t as close as it looked. My feet hurt and my fingers were numb by the time we hit the outskirts. I probably would’ve sat down right there on the side of the road in a pile of muddy slush had it not been for the annoying siren echoing through the silence.

“What is that?” I asked, my head pounding in time with the two-beat wail.

“Sirens,” Mike replied.

“Yeah, thanks, I got that,” I muttered, then turned to Luke. “I meant, why are they going off?”

Luke shrugged and scanned the area, same as me, in search of a mushroom cloud, a tornado, a wall of water … anything that would explain why the emergency sirens had been set off. Except for a bank of gray clouds hovering in the distance, the horizon was clear. No sign of a deadly storm, a world-ending apocalypse, or a zombie attack. Absolutely nothing.

Not only that, but as far as I could tell, there was nobody around to warn. What looked like cars were up ahead, but they were stationary—no blaring horns or mufflers. Had it not been for the two expensive-looking tractors and a set of fresh tire tracks lining the road, I would’ve assumed the town was abandoned.

“Don’t worry,” Luke said, squeezing my hand tighter. “We’ll hit the first gas station we see, grab some gas, and get back on the road.” He leaned in and ran his hand across the back of my neck, drawing me closer. “Maybe you want to tell me what the big surprise is now? I may find that gas a little faster if I had something to look forward to and all.”

“Not gonna happen,” I said and pushed him away. He turned to Mike, no doubt planning to bait his younger brother for information. I held my hand up, warning Mike to keep his mouth shut. “Don’t you even think about it!”

Mike slapped Luke on the shoulder, bracing himself for the punch that would undoubtedly follow. “Sorry, but the boss says no.”

Luke’s chuckle felt forced, like he was trying to keep the conversation light despite the fact that the sirens were getting louder by the minute. “Yeah? And when did you start taking your orders from her?”

Mike grinned, that stupid, mischievous twinkle marring his eyes. “I don’t, but we both know
you
do. Walls are thin back home. Really thin.”

“Shut up!” I shouted, picking up my pace. There were some things I’d rather not think about, and Mike listening to me and Luke … yeah, that was one of them.

The first shadow of a building appeared, the sleet making its brick exterior shine with a coldness that crept into my soul. I stopped at the base of the steps and stared up at the words engraved above the door:
Purity Springs Savings and Trust.
Next to the bank was a grocery store and across the street was a dry cleaner, a small café, and what appeared to be a string of white-clapboard community buildings connected to a chapel.

I stopped in the middle of the street and tugged Luke to a halt beside me. Other than the sirens blaring in my ears, it was still. Dead. No howling dogs, no crying children, no cars speeding away from impending danger.

I shuddered. The vacant street, the splatter of slush against concrete, the ancient-looking buildings all hovered around us. It was seriously creepy, and I fumbled in my purse for the tiny canister of mace I always carried. Not that there was anybody to spray. The place was a ghost town.

“Where is everybody?” I wondered out loud.

“No clue,” Luke yelled, competing with the sirens. “Not sure I care, either,” he added, pointing down the street.

I had to squint in order to make out the faint sign about a quarter-mile up. It wasn’t the words, but rather the familiar-
shaped rectangles jutting up from the ground that gave it away. “Gas station,” I squealed and took off running.

The sun was about to set, the orange glow painting the streets in a dim light. For as deathly silent as this place was, I could’ve sworn I saw shadows. They were nothing more than flashes of black darting behind the buildings, but they were there. My rational mind knew it was probably just the last bit of sunlight changing positions. But logical thinking was no match for my imagination, and I found myself squeezing the small canister of mace, my hand sweating as I melded it with my palm.

Mr. Hooper had given it to me the week I came to live with them. I was barely thirteen and trusted nobody, including myself. I hadn’t seen my parents for over a year at that point. The state had finally taken me away from them permanently when my father’s interest in me went from a simple punching bag to something else. I’d been bounced between three different foster homes and kicked out of two residential programs when the Hoopers finally agreed to give me “one last shot.”
That last shot came with a lot of rules and weekly, court-mandated counseling, but eventually the Hoopers wore me down and got me talking when all I wanted to do was hide.

Mr. Hooper tucked the mace into my hand the day I started school, told me the first step to getting beyond my past was to take control of my present. I took it because having that small weapon made me feel less like a victim and more like a girl you didn’t want to mess with. Now the mace came with me everywhere.

Turning back, I scanned the street for Mike. He may have been the third wheel on this trip, but he was Luke’s brother, and at the end of the day, he was always good for a few laughs. That and he had our concert tickets in his wallet.

“You see Mike anywhere?” I asked.

Luke circled his hand in the direction of everything and nothing. “Yeah, he’s fine. He’s checking the place out, same as us.”

I sighed and searched the empty street once more. We had to stay together; it was stupid to be splitting up like this.

“Relax, Dee. There’s no on here,” Luke said. “They probably evacuated when the sirens went off. I’m sure it’s nothing more than a false alarm.”

I shrugged and kept going, wanting to get out of this place as soon as possible. This town, with its eerie silence and deserted streets, made me feel weak, like I was being watched … cornered. And I hated that feeling.

Sensing my unease, Luke tugged me to a stop and forced me to look at him. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

I smiled and tried to look reassured. I believed him, or at least most of me did. The rest was hanging onto seventeen years’ worth of crap.

He ran the pad of his thumb over my cheek, the familiar look of determination flickering in his eyes. “Dee, you believe me, right?”

“Yeah, but Mike … ” I trailed off. My throat was already getting sore. If I wasn’t careful, competing with the sirens would eventually make me both deaf
and
mute.

The darkened street stretched ahead of us and I exhaled, taking comfort in the sight of Mike’s figure in the window of the brightly lit gas station. The parking lot was full, several cars sitting side-by-side. Empty. Luke tapped on the open door of a standard-issue blue Ford, his mind no doubt traveling the same unsettling path as mine. He and I had lived in the same town for almost four years now, and we knew full-well that when there was an emergency, not everyone listened. There were always a few idiots who stayed behind, believing they were stronger and smarter and capable of outsmarting Mother Nature. Not here. Apparently, everybody is this town was a law-abiding citizen.

Luke placed his hand on my shoulder. He was probably just trying to get my attention, but it scared the crap out of me. I screamed out a four-lettered reaction and jerked away.

“Down, girl,” Luke said with a smirk.

He motioned toward the gas station’s windows, where Mike was waving us in. I laughed nervously as the bell above the doorway jingled, signaling our entrance. I half expected a grease-covered kid to come and see what we wanted. Instead, I was met by nothing but empty aisles.

“Oh thank God,” I moaned, uncovering my ears as
the door swung shut, dampening the high-pitched wail of the sirens.

“No phone, but I found a gas can,” Mike said as he proudly waved the shiny red container in the air. “It’s empty though.”

“No problem. We’ll fill it up,” Luke said. “I’ll leave a twenty on the counter to cover it.”

“It’s not that easy,” Mike muttered, banging on the tiny silver bell perched on the counter. Nobody answered his call, but he continued hammering away at the bell anyway. “Sure, there’s gas, but we can’t get to it without someone working here.”

Luke peered down the hall. “Hello? Ah, we need some gas. Anyone here?” Turning back, he shrugged and did another quick sweep of the counter. “No phone. No keys to the cars parked in the lot. No gas attendant. This place is completely empty. I say we take what we need and go.”

Mike lifted the empty can and shoved it in Luke’s face. “That’s the problem. There’s no way to take what we need. The pumps won’t work without someone here to turn them on.”

“Bullshit,” Luke said as he fished out his wallet and handed Mike his ATM card. “This place has automated pumps. Run my card through.”

“Already tried,” Mike said. “I swiped my card five times and nothing happened.”

I’d always assumed that when you swiped a card in one of those machines, it … well … it simply went through. Apparently not. Even in crappy little Podunk towns, people were still necessary.

“You used to work at a Seven Eleven,” Mike said, motioning me forward. “Come figure this out.”

“I think someone needs to authorize the card,” I said as I stepped behind the counter. “And I only worked there for two days. They hadn’t taught me how to run the pumps yet.”

I knew some of the buttons on the cash register from my brief stint last summer at the mini-mart. I’d clocked less than sixteen hours there before I realized it was a waste of time and left in search of something less boring. I was still looking.

“There’s a button or a key code or something. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the cash register, but I’m not positive,” I said.

Luke stepped to my side, his fingers whispering across the buttons of the register. “Do you recognize any of these?”

I did. Problem was, without the four-digit security code, no one was accessing those pumps. I pressed the enter key to be sure, hoping that whoever owned this place had left in a hurry and neglected to secure the pumps. I got a blue screen and a flashing curser, confirming what I already knew. “You need a code to unlock the pumps.”

I felt the warmth of Luke’s arm around me, knew he was trying hard to be patient in a horrible situation. “Try one-two-three-four,” he suggested.

I pushed virtually every button, groaning loudly when I got nothing in return but a chorus of alarms sounding from the machine.

“Forget it,” Mike said as he moved toward the door. “Screw the machines; I’ll get us some gas.”

“Wait up.” Luke jogged over to his brother. I followed them to the doorway, wondering whether Mike planned on kicking the crap out of the pumps or sucking the gas out of the parked cars. Neither seemed promising.

Luke laid a palm on the glass, gave a quick shove, and pushed the door open a few inches. A blast of frigid air swept in, swirling a few crumpled pieces of paper out of the trash can and onto the floor. “Stay in here, Dee. Maybe get us some snacks for the road,” he said. “It’s freezing out, and from the looks of those clouds, the ice is going to turn to snow.”