Chapter 1 of The Other Breed: "Nowhere I Ever Wanted to be Again"

Thought I'd post the first chapter of a book I'm working on . . . =)

“Damn it!” Hombre curses as the car jolts to a stop on the narrow gravel road and he throws open the door, charging off into the bright green bushes and giant trees.

I look around, confused, and brush the sleep from my eyes as I hear Alyssa, next to me, huff, “Seriously?”

I turn to her for an explanation. I can see Beth in the front seat, staring after Hombre. She glances back at us, and from how red her eyes are she must’ve been asleep, too. I ask Alyssa, “What’s going on? Where is he going?” A nervous pit is forming in my stomach.

Beth frowns but doesn’t do much else. Even though she’s the one sitting in the front, it’s Alyssa who reaches over to pull Hombre’s door shut as she mutters, “I don’t know. He was fine until a moment ago. We should just leave him and get out of here.”

Beth shakes her head, her eyes locked on the bushes, which are still rustling even though he’s nowhere in sight. She mutters, “Calm down, Alyssa. He probably just had to pee or something. I don’t think he’s abandoning us here.”

Where is ‘here?’ I look out the car windows and try to situate myself. We’re supposed to be on the highway but instead we’re surrounded by trees. I sink my teeth into my lip to stop the dizziness because I suddenly know where we are and it’s nowhere I ever wanted to be again. I’m not sure how I know. Perhaps it’s because of the rusty Dead-End sign - a newer, or, well, older version of which peeks out at me from a half-forgotten memory - or maybe it’s that the trees, despite growing taller, have kept the same knots. But somehow, someway, and despite never being told about my connection to it, Hombre’s driven us to a place I despise: the summer forest of my childhood. I sink my teeth even deeper into my lip, the pain serving as a grounding force as I realize that my mother’s cabin hides somewhere beyond us. I can’t suppress the hope that it’s been swallowed up by the forest by now, having been left on its own for nearly a decade.

Alyssa’s sliding into the front seat. She’s so thin and tiny that she makes it look easy. She’s lecturing a confused, sleepy-eyed Beth as she searches for the keys. “You say he hasn’t abandoned us? Why did he take off, then? He just left the door open, like he didn’t even care. He kept saying he knew the way, but here we are at a dead end in the middle of nowhere. I think he’s a liar and I don’t want to know why he’s lying.”

Beth frowns, her make-up smudged and her blonde hair ruffled. She rubs her eyes, trying to make sense of everything.

“Stop it, Alyssa,” I mutter, shivering as I look out around us at the trees, which are squeezed in so close to us on this tiny road that it feels hard to breathe. As much as I want to get out of here, I don’t think we should just leave Hombre out there on his own. I shake my head. I really should call him Darien, now that I finally know his name, but I still feel like Hombre fits him best.

“Can we set a time limit?” Alyssa asks, irritated.

Beth stares at her, “You’re freaking me out. Can you calm down? He’s been totally normal the whole time we’ve known him. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“What if he’s going to get some serial killer to finish us off?” Alyssa hisses, still sorting through the car’s compartments, “He didn’t even say anything when he left and he knew I was awake.”

Beth rolls her eyes, “I wouldn’t say anything to you if I left. He’s probably peeing, like I said, or . . . maybe he’s looking for a signal for his GPS.” She holds up her phone and squints at the screen, the background of which is dominated by a picture of her mom’s poodle catching a tennis ball. “I mean, mine isn’t finding a signal here. We must be in the middle of nowhere.”

“Or, like I said, we’re about to get murdered,” Alyssa mutters, though she’s stopped her efforts to turn the car back on. She crosses her arms and snaps, “I’m not going to wait long.”

Beth yawns, “Are you going to get mad at me if I go back to sleep, Alyssa?”

“Are you kidding? How can you think about sleeping?”

While they talk, I silently lean forward, nervously running my hands through my hair. Why has he driven us here? Why here, of all places? And why did he just leave?

I try to search for some reason, any reason, for his behavior, thinking back on my time around him. I met him a few months ago at a show after he heard me speaking Spanish on the phone with my big brother, Cal. I remember him following me out and refusing a cigarette from some too-happy hippie kid. I only noticed because the hippie seemed almost offended, somehow. Though Hombre was quick to calm him down, I’d turned around and fully expected them both to disappear before I finished the call.

Instead, as I slipped my phone back into my pocket and started to head back inside, I noticed Hombre still there, staring at me. A strange frown crossed his face as he asked, “What were you saying?”

Assuming this was some lame attempt to get me to introduce him to Beth, I’d responded, “I was just talking to my brother. School stuff. Nothing important.” Even when I’d first met Hombre, something about him seemed trustworthy, despite the fact that I rarely think anyone is.

I remember his frown deepening, as if my statement was far more significant than I realized. And, though he’d dropped the subject immediately, somehow I ended up talking to him for the next hour, the headliner I’d come to see completely fading into background music. When Beth and Alyssa came to find me he made like he was about to disappear, a strange look on his face that dropped away into a smile when I’d asked him if he was going to be at other shows.

“Sure, if you want me to.”

I almost groan, now, as I try to think of anything weird he might’ve said. It’s impossible for me to even remember most of our conversations. I’d kept meeting him at shows, but now that I think about it I don’t know anything about him except that his real name is Darien and he owns a car. Every time I’d asked he’d dodged the questions so masterfully I’d somehow forgotten he hadn’t answered.

I can feel my cheeks getting hot. Am I stupid? I mean, I go to a good college. I never thought I was stupid. Why didn’t his question-dodging set off warning bells? Why did Beth and I convince Alyssa that he should drive us? I mean, I’ve never even told Alyssa or Beth about this place or its significance. Cal’s the only one who knows. I shake my head. This has to be a coincidence, somehow. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.

I consider calling Cal, but dismiss it almost immediately. I feel overwhelmed. I can’t process this situation, and if I call him, I’ll have to. Maybe if I ignore it all Hombre’ll come back and just drive us away. I try to distract myself, which should be easy because Beth and Alyssa are bickering about something trivial again.

Alyssa must’ve insulted Beth because I see her eyes roll as she snaps at Alyssa, “Go back to your statistics homework, jerk. I can’t believe you were doing homework on the way to a concert, anyways. I should’ve expected it, I guess.”

Alyssa sighs, “Are you trying to group me into some nerdy Asian stereotype? Don’t you have anything else? It’s not like you don’t have homework in your purse. I saw you put it in there.”

“I didn’t plan to do it! And I wasn’t going for a stereotype. You’re always doing homework.”

“Oh, right. You just don’t want to admit it, now.”

They aren’t distracting enough. Usually I’d be trying to calm them down by now, but I can’t focus on them when we’re on this road. I move the dragon engraving on my bracelet to the top, looking out at the brush and the huge tree trunks cramming in close to the car. They make the air feel foul, heavy, and oppressive, even as the bright leaves try to convince me that this place is anything but. I swallow, straining to see some sign of Darien. Where is he? It’s been a few minutes, now. My legs are cramped from sitting, but I resist the urge to open the door and stretch. I don’t want to give us any excuse to linger.

My eyes turn to the Dead-End sign. When I was little I remember wondering why this road was even built. There was nothing but my mother’s cabin for a mile and another road led right into its driveway. From the degradation it’s clear the gravel still leads nowhere, though it’s no longer barren, clear, and flat but instead bursting with life that threatens to overtake all traces of the past.

I shiver. Nothing’s burning anymore but I can still taste the ash in my mouth. Maybe it’s better this way, letting the forest take back what was stolen from it. After all, when my father died and it was finally our choice to visit my mother’s cabin, Cal and I made sure we never came back. We probably could’ve lived in it for far less than our townhouse in the city, but it wasn’t something either of us even discussed. I know that my grandmother’s original hope was that it would draw my mother back to us, maybe even in enough time that she could’ve stood by my grandmother’s side as she died, but instead it brought Cal and I a new version of hell.

“Carmen, are you okay?” I hear Beth ask.

I look at her quickly, hesitate, and then nod, “Yeah, fine.”

Sure, I’m fine. So long as I get away from this place and just go to this show so I can dance and laugh and maybe convince somebody to slip me a drink because I really, really need one. Maybe this time I’ll actually dance with the frat boy who tells me how ‘exotic’ I look because of my full lips and complexion. Maybe I’ll drink myself into enough of a state where I won’t feel repulsed by his touch when he tries to kiss me, telling me he thinks I’m beautiful because he thinks it might work. Maybe it will this time. I’m fine. Totally fine. The person starting to gasp for breath is not me, because I’m the finest person in the world.

“Calm down, Carmen,” The words, Alyssa’s, bring me back some as she climbs over the seat, brow furrowed and eyes wide and inquisitive. She brushes her short hair out of her face, tucking the red streak in the front behind her ear.

“You’re, like . . . hyperventilating.” Beth says, nervously, and she glances at her purse and then back at me, “Do you want food? Water? I have that water bottle of vodka if you need it.”

“You still have that?” I ask. Now that it’s presented, the thought of alcohol is making me feel ill. What’s going on with me? “I – I thought you’d gotten rid of it.”

Beth grins, “Pft. You know me, right? I mean, I’ve only been your roomie for two years, now. I’m that party chick.”

“That’s why I said ‘still.’ Look, I just . . . I just kinda had a bad dream okay? It’s throwing me off. I’ll be fine.”

Alyssa gives me a look, but she doesn’t say anything.

Beth muses, “Maybe it’s something about this car. I had a strange dream, too.” She looks at me, frowning, “You were in it, actually. This spider kept trying to eat you, but then this lion and I came in and saved you. Then you guys rode off without me.” Her frown deepens, “I remember feeling like that was rude.”

“Who are you that you remember your dreams so well?” Alyssa asks, “I never remember mine.”

“I practice.” Beth says, winking. She looks at me and I smile so that she knows she’s making me feel better. I have no doubt that later one of them will try to corner me and figure out what happened and I’ll have to pretend that it’s nothing.

There’s a rustling in the bushes and Hombre’s hand appears, groping for the handle. He calmly forces his way out of the greenery as he pulls the door open. Somehow, despite my questions and confusion, his presence makes me feel more at ease. I bite my lip again, trying to steady myself.

He sticks his head into the opening with a perturbed expression that doesn’t quite suit his face. Okay, I will never admit this again, but in all honesty he is very attractive. He’s angular, with tawny hair and a very straight nose, his skin a shade darker than mine. He’s a little short, but that’s probably only something I notice because I’m taller than most girls. He’s about eye-to-eye with me, but he towers over Alyssa and has a few inches on Beth. Looking at him now, I can’t help but think that, if he felt like taking advantage, most people would probably give him whatever he wanted. Maybe it’s something about the way he holds himself, or about how trustworthy he seems, but most people would probably follow him into Hell, especially because it seems that he’d never want to take them there. Considering our circumstances, though, I’m starting to wonder if I’m misjudging him.

It tumbles out of my mouth before he can say anything, maybe because I need to see how he’ll react: “I’ve been here before.”

He blinks and then his eyebrows knot together as he considers me, “Really?” He doesn’t seem surprised, more like I’ve given him a missing puzzle piece.

I narrow my eyes, “Did you know that?” I demand. “My mom has . . .” I pause, “I mean, had a cabin here.”

He shakes his head, “Well, it’s interesting, but I brought you here because of the river, not your mom’s cabin.”

The river? Goosebumps ripple up my arms and a ferocious memory tears through me: I’m running, my breath harsh in my lungs as I sprint from the path and the cabin and my life and away into the trees and hit my toes on a root and whimper, keep going, running faster, the brush catching my arm, keep running, running it hurts but keep running, now down a hill my breath scorching and I rip through the branches to see it, see it . . . My leg gives out and I fall as I hear the pounding of the water just beyond. Pain hurts more because I’m young, my lower half aching and numb, but I gulp in air, can’t move for a moment, and then drag myself forward bit by bit until I can part the last shrubs and find it: the river which charges through the forest. I crawl to the rocks at the edge and cup my hands to gulp down the water in between my gulps of air.

The river. The river was always my solitary spot, the place I went when I needed to be alone and think, where I could watch the water bugs as they meandered in the calm spots before darting away. Maybe I’d chosen it because my mother showed it to me before she left and that somehow established it as a safe spot. Maybe, maybe. I swallow and want to shake myself. God damn it, Carmen, get it together. I glare suspiciously at Hombre, “Why the river?”

He shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter. Just come with me.” He points at Beth and Alyssa, but mostly at Beth, “Don’t either of you make a scene, I don’t want to deal with it.”

Beth smiles innocently, but Alyssa chooses to take it personally: “A scene?” she snaps, narrowing her eyes.

I can see him stiffen, and I quickly cut in, trying to defuse the tension, “How far down the river are we going?”

“Well, it’s not really a ‘we.’” He glances at Alyssa as he continues to talk to me, “You’re the only one that I need to come with me.”

“You only want Carmen to go?” Beth asks, looking a bit hurt.

“That’s creepy,” Alyssa says, crossing her arms. “This whole thing is creepy.”

Hombre frowns, as if he hadn’t considered that.

I ask, “Why don’t you want them to come?”

Hombre sighs, leaning in to look at the clock, “I didn’t say you two can’t, but I only need Carmen to be there.” He looks at me, “It won’t take long. I promise, and I’m not going to do anything creepy. I just need your help.” He says it softly, but his posture is tense, rigid, and he seems anxious, despite his tone. It’s odd, for a moment I swear I see his irises shift color, little violet and fuschia flakes appearing amongst the blue, but then they’re gone. Maybe I’m freaking myself out.

I look out the window and find that I’m chewing my lip again. I force myself to stop, sure I’ll taste blood soon. He wants me to go with him into the forest. Well, maybe I’m down for something stupid if it gets me out of here. I was about to go to a show and be stupid, anyways, so what’s the difference?

 I nod, “Alright, fine. But anything serial-killer-like and I’ll . . . I’ll punch you.”

“You probably shouldn’t have warned me.”

“Well, I didn’t tell you where, so you’ll have to guess.” I find myself analyzing him, trying to figure out what this is all about and why he needs me to help, of all people.

Hombre frowns, “Stop looking at me like that. Just come on, whoever’s also coming.”

He pulls away and slams the car door shut. He gestures for us to follow him, so I open my door and get out, rubbing my arms to get rid of my goose bumps. It doesn’t work. They want to stay. I’m not surprised when I turn around and find Beth’s crawled over the seat to follow me. I see Alyssa considering us and then she opens her door.

Beth, now sliding out of the car, looks back at her, “I thought you’d want to do your homework.”

“Why would I want to do that? I don’t trust him. I’d rather us be in a group.”

“I think we’ll be fine,” I say, and, though I accompany it with a reassuring smile, I’m not quite sure I’m convinced yet. If I’m being honest, I’m glad both of them are coming with me.