The Boy in Black

Act 12: A Wound & A Scar: Part One

It had been a month , Tara thought, staring at her phone impatiently. The least Slade could do was answer her question:

How much longer do I have to stay here?

Still, after the better part of an hour, there was no word, call, or text. She placed the device down and took the last sip of her warm beer, as there wasn't much else to do: drink and fuck. And even then, the latter wasn't exactly a promising prospect in rural West Virginia. She thought Slade would at least make some sort of effort to meet with her. Maybe then she could at least— Oh? Tara thought, as her phone buzzed, alerting her to the massage on her screen:

Not until you find a body .

A rough inhale filled her lungs. It had been a month and still there was no sign of Damian. It was as if he'd vanished; completely ceased to exist.

And if I don't? She replied, waiting a long minute; there was no reply.

"Fuck, why do I even put up with you?" Tara asked the empty room, her voice echoing into the void.

She looked at the time and pondered. It was a little after seven; she could make it to the liquor store before it closed for the night. It was a lot better than staying in that house alone and sober. I could get a handle of vodka too? She pulled the keys from the hook and threw on her coat. It would take at least 30 minutes to make it into town. Maybe even grab a drink at the local bar? Again, it's better than listening to myself breathe.

The old dirt road that led to the secluded hunting cabin was a long one, cutting straight through wilderness, about 20 miles inland. And followed the long stretch of river that ran through the small town no one cared to remember in rural West Virginia: population 800.

"God, I hate it here," she grumbled as she drove past the thick wall of trees, thinking of her abysmal prospects, the lack of excitement. The people talked slowly and drove even slower. Not to mention, having an actual conversation with anyone was beyond difficult. Would it kill anyone around here to have an interesting thought?

As she drove, her phone rang. An excited smile stretched across her face as she lifted the device with eager fingertips. "It's about time," Tara began, only to hear her own voice fill with disappointment. It was Gar.

"Hey," she said dryly.

"Um, hey," the shape-shifter replied. "Is everything okay?"

She exhaled through her nose. "Yeah, peachy."

"You don't exactly sound excited to hear from me?" And she honestly wasn't.

Gar was well-intentioned, but at heart, he was also foolish and far too trusting. She felt sorry for him, even pitied him, but that still didn't stop her from deceiving and taking advantage of his kindness. He made it far too easy.

"I'm just frustrated," she half lied. "I just wish this mission would be over so I could come home."

She'd told her faux boyfriend she'd taken a side hustle of sorts. It was the only way she could meet with Slade and not get caught. If only he knew.

"How much longer?"

"That is exactly what I would like to know," Tara grumbled. At least Gar never strung her along. There were moments she asked herself why she'd stayed so loyal to Slade and why she couldn't just be happy with a nerd like Garfield Logan. Sure, he was insufferably annoying and overly invested to the point of the mundane, but at least he cared. And she didn't have the decency to be honest.

She finished the call as she made her way into town, the raw winter rain coming down even harder now. It had been unseasonably warm for February: days reaching the mid to high 40s while the nights stayed just above the freezing point. However, this storm brought with it a tropical wind that breached fifty-something degrees.