Friends Down Low (ONC2022)

Chapter 4 - The Man in the Woods

There weren't many cars in the lot, leaving plenty of space, but that hadn't stopped a grey Cadillac from parking uncomfortably close to my Honda. Just as Amelia's taillights faded from view, three men clambered out of the whale of a car. They were rough-looking customers, the kind of men who I had previously assumed would hang out in a dive bar like this. The hairs on my neck stood up and it certainly didn't help that they were between me and my ride.

The driver and the front passenger eyeballed me. The third one popped the trunk but didn't retrieve anything. He simply left it open and joined his comrades.

As I walked, I instinctively glanced over to see what they were up to and when I did the driver said, "Hey, you."

I nodded a greeting and kept going.

"You Finnigan Walsh?" he asked.

This brought me to a screeching halt. It was the third time this trip that some unnerving stranger somehow knew my identity. If this didn't stop, I was going to have a panic attack every time someone said my name. I tried to think of a redirecting answer but my pause and the obvious trepidation on my face seemed to give me away.

"Yeah, you're Finnigan Walsh all right," he smiled wickedly and pushed his hood off his bald head. His companions moved to the left and right, putting bodies in the path to the bar and my Honda.

"Sorry. I'm not. He just drove away." I'd never had much of a poker face, but I was happy with my quick lie and pointed after Amelia's now vanished car to add some evidence.

Baldie shook his head. "No. We weren't told exactly what Finnigan looked like, but we know he's not a woman or attractive."

I couldn't help but think that he meant to say, "attractive woman", but the insult was of minor concern. Not wanting to admit to being myself I just stood there silently.

"The Saint sent us to fetch you," Baldie said. "She says you're important and she can't wait to meet you. We're not supposed to hurt you if we can avoid it."

He waved a hand at the open trunk. "Do us all a favor and just climb in. We even put some soft blankets back there for you. The trunk is spacious but doesn't get any heat."

"The Saint?"

He looked annoyed at having to clarify. "The Saint of Shadows."

"Oh." I certainly didn't want to meet someone known by such an ominous name. Even more so, I had no intention of willingly climbing into the trunk, despite the comfy doggie-bed they'd made for me in it. Just before I opted for what I knew was going to be a futile attempt at running, a new voice boomed.

"Hey, you!"

All four of us turned to see a mountain of a man come striding from the woods. While my prospective kidnappers were each bigger than me, this guy towered over all of us. I assumed I wouldn't last long in a fight against the trio, but I was simply snack-size for this newcomer.

Between his wild mop of dark hair and his unruly beard, the only facial features I could make out were his nose and his eyes, and even those were shaded by caterpillar-thick eyebrows. He had a duffel bag draped over each shoulder and dropped both to free his arms as he neared us.

"You Finnigan Walsh?" he asked with a growl, his dark eyes burrowing into me.

My previous assumption that I'd suffer a panic attack at that question proved erroneous. Instead, I reached the point of confused exasperation. "I'm really starting to hope not," I answered.