Fresh Meat

HELEN

“Helen, you have to move faster,” Sam barked.

“I can’t,” I whined. I was soaking wet, and my clothes weren’t made for comfort or speed.

Sam shot me a look. His eyes were dark and intense.

He was in a state of total urgency, but it wasn’t fear. He seemed pissed off.

He was pulling me along, literally dragging me through the woods. I didn’t understand why the fuck we were moving so fast or what the fucking problem was.

As soon as he’d heard those gunshots, he’d commanded me to put my shoes on.

While my fingers were fumbling with the laces, Sam had gathered his pack and was jamming the art supplies into my backpack.

Yeah, sure, we’d heard gunshots, but they hadn’t sounded that close. Besides, we’re humans. It’s not like they’re hunting us.

But I couldn’t get any answers out of him.

We just kept running, jumping over roots, getting scratched by branches.

“Sam, you have to explain to me what’s going on.”

“Not now,” he said. And then, as if he could sense I was hurt being talked to like that, he said, “Wait till we get home. I’ll explain everything.”

Sam knew these woods like his own backyard. Which, I guess, technically, they were.

And he led us straight through the undergrowth.

Literally cutting a path through the brush, like a human machete.

After a few miles of running like this, I started to feel like I really was a wild animal.

And like we…

We really were being hunted.

When we reached the porch hours later, we both fell down, exhausted. Sweaty and smelly.

“Goddamn it, Sam,” I said, once I’d gathered my strength. “Why the hell would you risk taking me into those woods if there was danger out there?”

“It’s complicated, Helen,” Sam panted.

“Oh yeah? What’s so complicated about getting me shot?”

“You have to believe me. I would never put you in any danger. There shouldn’t have been hunters in those woods.”

“But they’re woods, right? Aren’t there always hunters?”

“No. Not here. This land is protected.”

“Why? What’s so special about it?”

“Look, Helen, maybe I can explain it another time. After all that nature, doesn’t a city girl like you want a taste of civilization?” he asked. “Let’s go down to Hawcroft.”

I thought it was kind of weird that he’d changed the subject, but I was too exhausted to fight.

“I don’t know if that counts as civilization.”

“Well, that’s all we got around here, so it’ll have to do. We could grab a couple burgers…”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

***

After a quick shower, I put on the only outfit that would be civilization-appropriate out here in the sticks: a pair of Wranglers that made my ass look like a denim peach, a tight gray T-shirt, and a matching jean jacket with a race car on the back.

I met Sam downstairs—he was also wearing a Canadian tuxedo. We both burst out laughing, finally restoring the good mood that had evaporated the second those shots had rung out.

“I’m glad you packed for every occasion,” he said.

“I figured there weren’t ~that many~ occasions out here in the woods.”

We got into Sam’s Jeep. As he took the tight curves in the road, I had fleeting visions of some other curves he might take.

Then, just as quickly, I was shaking the thoughts out of my head, because he was my stepbrother and hooking up with family…

“Mind if I play some tunes?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said. “I’ve got an iPod down there. Kinda old school, but we don’t get service up here.”

“Yeah, so no Spotify.” I clicked through his music collection and when I noticed he had Ed Sheeran on there, I didn’t even ask, I just put it on.

From Jack’s cabin to Hawcroft, the drive took about half an hour. Sitting in Sam’s Jeep listening to Ed’s soothing voice, the trees sliding silently by outside, I found myself in a kind of trance.

That trance was suddenly broken when Sam turned down the volume.

“What are you…?” I started to say.

But then I noticed that coming straight for us was a handful of green trucks with a seal on the side.

Park rangers or something. Ford Broncos with police lights on top.

Since it was a one-lane dirt road, Sam pulled off to the shoulder.

But when the lead Ranger pulled up alongside us, he rolled down his window, and so did Sam. There was Luke, looking quite handsome in his crisp uniform.

“Hey, stranger,” Sam said. “We’re just heading into town. I was gonna swing by the station and tell you about the shots, but I guess you already heard.”

“Yeah,” Luke said. “We got some reports ’bout an hour ago.”

“Are you gonna arrest them?” I asked.

“Nah, sweetheart,” Luke winked at me. “Just gonna give them a good scare, I reckon.”

Luke shrugged. “Anyway, we’re holding up traffic here. See ya later, Sam.”

As he pulled away, I asked, “What did he mean by that? Scare them?”

“Oh, you know,” Sam said vaguely. “He was probably just showing off for you.”

“I’m not really impressed by ~cops~,” I said snarkily.

“Rangers,” Sam corrected me. “They help keep the woods safe around here.”

Pretty soon, we pulled into Hawcroft and turned onto Main Street. The town was more beautiful than I imagined—like America the way you see it sometimes in ’50s movies.

Further down Main Street, I could see Forest Lake off to the side, with a small picnic area and a marina.

We parked and walked down the street, past the Ace Hardware, the grocery, and a cute little bakery with cupcakes in the window. I made a mental note for later.

But Sam led me past all these places to a rustic café called Rowen’s.

“Uhh, this place looks like it serves dog food,” I said.

Sam laughed when he saw the face I was making.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I can personally vouch that this place is great. My mom used to take me here all the time.”

I knew Sam had lost his mother a while back. Mom’d explained to me how Jack had been a widower for a while. I was curious to know what happened.

Inside, Rowen’s looked just a tad better than it did from the outside.

The decor was what I’d call hillbilly fab—lots of antlers and old John Elway posters on the wall—but the tablecloths were made of ~actual~ fabric and the scent coming out of the kitchen really did smell ~yum~.

Seeing us sit down, a skinny brunette came over to take our order.

“What will it be, handsome?” she said, addressing Sam.

Jumping in over him, I said, “I’ll have a double bacon cheeseburger with a side of curly fries.”

I’m not usually so rude, but something about her so blatantly flirting with him pissed me off. Like, what if I was his girlfriend? His wife?

Or maybe I was just hangry.

Hearing my order, Sam said, “You sure your eyes aren’t bigger than your stomach?”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“Of course not! You’re beautiful!” Sam looked shocked. “I just meant that’s a lotta food you ordered.”

~Beautiful? Did he really just say that?~

Turning the color of the ketchup bottle between us, I wanted to reprimand him, but something inside told me to accept the compliment.

“Who knows?” I said quietly. “Maybe that’s just my appetizer.”

“Either way, that sounds good.” And then, turning to the waitress, he added, “I’ll have what she’s having.”

The food took forever to come out and, starving as I was, I couldn’t think of anything to talk about. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had called me beautiful.

I guess it made me feel shy.

I took a stab at conversation. “Are they like, out back, killing the cow?”

Sam chuckled. “Relax. It’s worth the wait.”

As soon as I saw the waitress plop my plate down, I knew Sam was right. This burger looked like it came straight from heaven. Meat juices were flowing from the patty onto the bun, and, I swear, I could still hear mooin’.

Sam and I looked at each other as if to say, ~This is gonna be awesome.~ And then we practically inhaled our food.

After all that swimming and running, I realized I’d been as hungry as a bear after hibernation. We basically didn’t say another word until we were wiping the grease off our faces.

Sam crumpled his napkin and threw it on the plate. “Feel like grabbing a beer?”

“Ughh, are you ~crazy~?” I scoffed. “I ~don’t do~ calories like that.”

Sam was dumbfounded. “Helen, you just inhaled a cheeseburger.”

“Yeah, because that’s food and I need food to live,” I said.

Sam rolled his eyes.

“But yeah, let’s grab a drink,” I said. “I hope the vodka cokes are cheap.”

Getting to the bar didn’t take long because The Buckhorn was right next door.

“Is this a bar or a saloon, technically?” I asked. Sam shrugged.

The Buckhorn was nothing fancy; it smelled of cheap beer and sawdust and cigarettes, which was kinda gross, because back in the city no one smoked anymore.

We vaped instead.

Sam must’ve seen me scrunching my nose.

“Hope this isn’t too rustic for you,” he said.

“After all that nature, this feels like the Radisson,” I said.

In the back, there was a pool table with a red Budweiser lampshade hanging over it and three guys playing a game of eight-ball.

At the bar, there were a couple of stools free, and Sam steered me over there.

“What’re you drinking, miss?” The bartender was the size and shape of a refrigerator door—like one of those stainless steel ones—but he had kindness in his face.

“Vodka Coke,” I said, then for Sam’s benefit added: “Make that a Diet Coke.”

“Comin’ right up, miss. And for you, Sam?”

“Just the usual, Slim.”

Slim came back with my drink and a Budweiser for Sam. Then he sidled off to watch the game on the small TV hanging over the bar.

I settled in, feeling calm after all that food. And within a couple more rounds, Sam and I were actually getting along!

I was starting to feel really comfortable around him. I remembered how he’d mentioned his mom earlier. I wanted to ask him more about her—what she was like and what they used to do together.

And, obviously, I wanted to know what happened.

How she died, I mean.

Sam noticed that I’d gotten quiet.

“Penny for them?” he asked.

“My dad loved places like this.”

“Did he take you to bars with him often?”

“No, uh, but…” He had me there.

“You lost your dad when you were how old?”

“I was eight,” I explained. “He went out one night for a motorcycle ride and some driver ran him off the road. It was so sudden. My mom woke me up the next morning and was like, Helen, honey, daddy’s gone. And I was just like, gone where?”

I motioned to Slim for another vodka Coke. He quickly fetched me my drink and another beer for Sam.

“Damn, I’m sorry, Helen,” Sam said and then quickly took a sip of beer to hide his discomfort. “Did they catch the guy who did it?”

“No. They found the car later. A dented up Taurus in the parking lot by the commuter rail, but the plates had been taken off.”

“Sounds shady.”

“Yeah, I’m not really sure how it played out. The trail just went cold somewhere, and I was young then, so I didn’t really get what had happened. And then when I got older, I saw my mom finally finding some peace, so I always felt bad bringing it up.”

“I was the same way with my dad. We never really talked about what happened to mom.”

“I’ve actually been wondering… What happened to her, Sam?”

Hearing the question, Sam shifted uneasily on his stool and ran his fingers through his coarse black hair.

“You know, I still don’t wanna talk about it,” he said, following up quickly with a sip of beer.

Slim must’ve been pouring that vodka deep, because I was already halfway to f’d up.

“Aww, come on,” I wheedled. “I told you all about my dad. You gotta tell me.”

“Do I?” he said, a little menace coming into his voice. “I reckon I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Ohhh-kay,” I said, turning back to my drink. “Be that way.”

“To tell the truth, Helen, it still hurts too much. And I guess I’m just not ready to talk about it. Maybe you can’t understand…”

“Oh, I understand fine. You let me spill my guts all over the bar, but I guess you’re too manly to do it yourself.”

“Dammit, Helen, quit needling me. There’s just some things you don’t understand.”

“Like what?” I snapped, angrily facing him. “Like losing a parent? You think I don’t understand that?”

Frustrated, Sam slapped the bar with his palm. “I’m gonna take a piss.”

~Men. They’re always so goddamn stubborn when it comes to their emotions.~

Sam walked away, and I turned my attention to the guys playing pool. They were a slim pack—all elbows and shoulders and skinny jeans—not nearly as beefy as Sam…or Luke…or most of the guys around here, it seemed like.

And as soon as I turned to them, they all peered up and looked at me.

I guess a woman who’s ninety percent curves giving them any attention wasn’t a thing they were used to.

As if in sync, two of them dropped their cues on the table and the third pulled the toothpick out of his mouth; all three of them beelined straight for me.

“Looks like we’ve got fresh meat in the house tonight.”

“Excuse me?” I said, gathering myself up a bit, instantly pissed that they had the nerve to talk to me that way. “Seems like you boys don’t have much experience talking to women.”

“Maybe we prefer women who don’t talk?”

“Women whose mouths are too full to do any talking.”

The guys all snickered.

“Eww,” I said, spinning on my stool to face the bar.

That’s when I felt a hand grab me roughly by the shoulder.

~Oh shit. These hicks are getting handsy.~

One glance at their leering faces, and I knew this wouldn’t end well.

~SAM?! WHERE ARE YOU?!~