twenty eight

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Giggles flooded the room before the two sisters grew silent, their shoulders bouncing up and down. They rocked back and forth, desperate for air, but every time they met eyes, another fit of laughter bubbled to the surface.

Dray groaned and threw her hand over her eyes, falling back into the couch. "Man, it's been a long time since I've laughed like that." Her chest fell up and down.

A messy head of hair perked up from the other end of the sofa. "What were we even laughing about?" Lucy rubbed her cheeks and buzzed her lips. "My face hurts."

Another short set of chuckles erupted from the two. A light feeling danced in the air around their flushed cheeks and bright smiles.

Footsteps pounded into the room. The women peered through their hands and tangled hair to see their men standing above them.

"Are you ready?" Wells narrowed his eyes on Dray.

She felt cold and couldn't catch her breath for a much harsher reason. "No," she said.

Lucy crawled closer and engulfed her in a hug. "It'll be okay."

When they separated, Dray's chin fell to her chest and she stretched her neck in a slow circle. With one more glance at Lucy, the sisters stood up from their warm spots and followed the guys out the door.

Nash dropped Wells and Dray at her house. He pulled in the driveway and put the truck in park. "By the way, I had Cliff and some others clean up your house, Wells." He looked into the backseat. "We'll help pay for any damages."

Wells gripped the door handle. "You didn't have to do that." He glanced at Nash.

Dray watched one of the first genuine smiles she had seen on Nash appear—the kind that lit up his whole face.

"We did," he said.

Wells shook his head, but returned the smile. "Thanks, Nash."

Dray hopped out of the truck. Despite the moment forging a bit of happiness, her focus remained on getting tonight over with.

She waved to Lucy in the front seat and left for her front door. She faintly heard Wells telling them about leaving in a few minutes. Nerves reached through her fingertips and she took a little bit longer to unlock her door.

Inside, she bypassed the lights and darted straight to her bedroom, coming back out with her camera around her neck and a memory card in her hand. She plucked it out of her computer—wincing as she didn't turn on her computer to eject it—on her way out. She almost forgot it.

Wells waited outside. He scanned the road back and forth as Dray locked the front door. He looked down at her, his rapt manner softening. He held out a hand.

Dray snatched it and started walking. Coming back to the familiar trail sent shivers throughout her body, but they had a job to do and it started with a little acting.

She slipped her hand from Wells' and lifted her camera close to her face. The darkness affected the speed and quality of photography, so she shot towards the moonlight to make it a bit easier. A few good pictures would place them near her house for the night.

A man leaning against the odd-looking tree caused Dray to stutter step. Wells wrapped an arm around her waist. She knew it was Cliff, but her attempt of feigning confidence cracked as soon as she entered the woods.

"Follow me." Cliff pushed off the tree and led them deeper into the woods and in a different direction then Dray had ever been. She tried to memorize landmarks or anything that could be familiar later, but the light from the moon disappeared. A canopy of leaves connected above them and plunged the path into darkness, so Dray focused on her feet instead.

A long while later, the group climbed a small incline and perched at an outlook smushed with trees. The wind picked up and cooled the air. It added white noise among the natural sounds.

Dray stuck her camera out at a random angle and snapped a test shot. The shutter sounded so loud, but the wind covered it. In this situation, she would take the cold and extra noise.

The three set up close to the drop off, but wove between the tree branches low to the ground. The meeting would take place in the matted grass of the clearing several feet below them. Cliff shimmied on his stomach under the low branch of a pine tree off to the far side, his gun out and ready. Dray crouched in the middle behind a tree and Wells mimicked her a few trees away. He held out the recorder as far as he could, hiding it in the leaves dangling from thin branches.

Only after a few shaky breaths from Dray did people start to fill the clearing below. She snapped her mouth shut.

She took pictures right away, not bothering to focus on Nash or Lucy. She zoomed into Sheron Heron, the mayor, and Porter. She needed to get the mysterious leader, but after five or so minutes, he had yet to show up. The group resorted to small talk, shuffling feet, and fidgeting hands.

Dray dropped her head. Her heart pounded in her eyes. "Just pictures," she whispered, "you're just taking pictures."

A new voice interrupted her mantra, though it had lingered in her ears before. The man from the woods the night Wells got shot stood in the circle. He faced away from her and wore all black. Even his hair blended in. He camouflaged himself into the night. She questioned if a picture tonight would be any better than the one from before.

"I hear we have another obstacle to take care of," the man said, "or rather, two obstacles." His voice scratched through the air. He flicked something small to the ground and stomped it out.

Dray heard a rustle in the leaves by Wells and discovered the recorder lay in the grass. He remained still.

Lucy stepped forward. "With all due respect, sir, if this is about my sister, she is not involved."

An involuntary flinch escaped Dray watching her sister step forward. She paused and breathed in and out before continued to freeze the meeting in time. The faces she saw remained placid. She remembered Lucy revealing they had never met the leader and deduced their lack of reaction meant he couldn't be another prominent member of the community.

She zoomed in on Porter and fought the urge to chuck her camera at his face. His arms rested over his chest and his feet were a little more than shoulder width apart. It reflected the first time they met. He wore a sickly smirk.

"And you know this because she has spent some time at your house recently?" The man clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his chin up high.

"Yes." Confidence strengthened her voice, but her face faltered.

The man didn't miss a beat. "Is this the general consensus?"

"Nah, they're in it," Porter said instantly. The man ignored him.

Sheriff Heron raised a hand. "Well sir," he scratched his neck, "I don't believe they are very close to this at all. There are more suspicious people to consider first."

The leader turned his nose up at the sheriff's response. He walked to the mayor, not even sparing Nash a glance, and patted his back. "Mayor?"

"I think they are too close, sir." The mayor grinned.

"You are a good man, Mayor." The leader turned around smiling and clapped his hands, rubbing them together.

"Oh my god." Dray's voice traveled too far.

Heads snapped up towards them and Dray fell back on her butt. She searched for her sister and saw Nash nod towards Cliff.

A shot rang through the air. The sound punched Dray in the stomach.

The mayor dove in front of the leader and landed hard on his side. He didn't get up. The sheriff pulled Porter and ran. Nash grabbed Lucy. The leader disappeared.

Dray stared into the clearing below, frozen on the ground.

"Cliff, call it in." Nash ran over. "What happened?" His anger directed towards Dray.

Lucy hit his arm and crouched down, gently grabbing her sister's face. "Dray?"

She grasped her sister's wrists and looked at her with tears in her eyes. "The leader, Lucy," she glanced at Nash, "the leader is Parson." She gulped and noticed Wells close in. "Parson Walden. The leader is Wells' dead dad."

..

[EDITED OCTOBER 9, 2021]



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