Becomes the Rose

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Favouring his right foot as he trudged along the deserted road, Tarin finally stopped. Moving to stand on the fringe of the reserve he slid off his pack, balancing it on a rock, stretched, and groaned loudly. After walking for hours, his boot had rubbed his heel and his pack felt like it weighed a ton.

Pulling out his cell phone, Tarin pointed and twisted it right and left hopefully, but there was still no reception. He roundly and comprehensively cursed Lexis yet again.

This whole fiasco was Lexis’s fault. He was the one who’d originally suggested they get away for a weekend. He was also the one who’d insisted the trip happen during the Halloween weekend. And Lexis was the one who’d wanted to go on the camping trip despite their recent split.

Tarin chose to overlook the fact he’d agreed because he enjoyed camping as much as Lexis, and he’d been keen enough to come tramping in the beautiful forest area yesterday. Of course, Lexis had another reason to insist they still go camping—the legend of the lost village.

The village had literally disappeared nearly a hundred years ago and no one had been able to find it since or explain the disappearance. Although Tarin wouldn’t mind meeting a preternatural, Lexis had a strong, almost morbid fascination to meet and mix with preternaturals. To Tarin’s knowledge, Lexis had never crossed paths with one, not that they’d been a couple very long for him to know for sure. Of course, preternaturals didn’t exactly parade around waving their claws or whatever to announce themselves. Despite his situation, the thought of a preternatural parade down his town’s main street made Tarin snort with laughter. Oh, dear gods above, I can just see the look on the mayor’s face if he had to shake hands with a lycan or something. Jeez, even I know they must hide behind some sort of magical glamour when among humans.

“Magic, witches, and curses,” Tarin muttered darkly as he looked around, hoping and praying for some kind of miracle to occur. “Lexis will know how good a human’s curse can be when I get my hands on his sorry ass. My kind of magic won’t involve spells, either, although I may sacrifice those precious designer shirts of his he keeps in my wardrobe.”

Not that Tarin was entirely surprised at Lexis’s desertion. When all was said and done, the man was a prima donna and loved a dramatic exit.

Indulging in another round of heartfelt cursing, Tarin tried to work out some of his frustration by kicking innocent stones around.

“I should’ve kept the relationship platonic and just enjoyed the camping.” Tarin sighed heavily. “I guess this is my own stupid fault.”

Unfortunately, Lexis had volunteered to be the driver, so Tarin hadn’t checked whether he’d packed his driver’s licence. Needless to say, I can’t find it now, and to add insult to injury, either my cell phone battery is dead or there’s a black spot here. I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere, unable even to hire a car; assuming I find a town big enough to hire a car in.

As it was, just getting home would take the whole weekend. Not that he had anything else to do. Without decent supplies, camping wasn’t going to be fun, either. Tarin could only give silent thanks for the fact the tent and sleeping bag were in his pack. Lexis, when I next see you, your ass is grass and I’m the lawnmower.

Tarin reluctantly considered something he’d refused to acknowledge all day: he was completely, hopelessly lost. Somehow I got off the right road. It’s now too late to think catching about a bus today.

Testing his foot, Tarin decided that if he had some serious walking over the next day or so, he’d best make at least a running repair to his heel. While he rummaged by feel in his pack for the mini first aid kit and a Band-Aid, he glanced around.

Damn. The chill he felt wasn’t just because he’d stopped moving. The trees in the distance were becoming more strongly silhouetted against the fading light, signalling the onset of evening. He groaned softly, hurrying now to remove his boot and sock. The skin of his heel had rubbed raw and he hissed as he peeled the sock away. He covered his heel with the salve and biggest plaster he had before replacing sock and boot. This time when he tested his weight on the foot, the pain wasn’t as bad.

I need somewhere to pitch my tent to sleep tonight but I don’t know of any campsites around here and can’t check for anything on Google maps since my phone isn’t working. Tarin shivered at the thought of a night spent alone in such an isolated area and then shook his head. What the f**k was that about? Did someone just walk over my grave or something? This is no time to freak out, Tarin.

There had to be a patch of ground somewhere around here that was suitable to pitch his tent on. He glanced around; the foliage here was thick, nowhere clear enough for a tent to sit. There were no signs indicating a place to camp nearby, either, and Tarin didn’t relish tramping into the forest in the dark alone. Plus, there wasn’t much in his pack beyond dried fruit and nuts, some beef jerky, and a few bottles of water. Which would have been fine if the trip had gone to plan; by now they would have passed through a town and stocked up on food. To make things worse, the Primus stove was in the car, so he couldn’t even have anything hot. I just hope I can get a fire going. I always keep a supply of matches in my pack. Between that and my thermal bedroll I should be warm enough. I hope.

Farther down the road, a fog so heavy it almost looked as if the world ended where the fog began rapidly advanced towards him. Everything beyond the fog was obliterated. Tarin groaned heavily. That was all he needed: damp firewood and kindling to go with his poor fire-starting skills. Fog damp always seemed to seep deep inside anything it touched.

“Cold and wet is my world.” Tarin was surprised to find a tear slipping down his cheek. He wasn’t normally so emotional. But then, it’s not every day I get abandoned in the middle of nowhere with no way to get home and a creepy mist advancing on me. Visions of long-dead mariners emerging from the fog made him shudder. I watch way too many horror movies. It’s just fog, for f**k’s sake.

Pulling out his flashlight, Tarin resettled his camping gear securely on his back, then continued down the road. For now, he’d look for a place to camp that wasn’t too far from the road—only a fool would wander off into the woods in a fog this thick.

When the fog enveloped him, Tarin could barely see his hand in front of his face, and the torch only reflected light back at him. Tarin shivered. Not because he was cold or wet—oddly, this mist was neither—no, his shivers were caused by the strange, eerie atmosphere created by the dense mist surrounding him. In an effort to keep his nerves from fraying any further, Tarin focused on not tripping over his own feet. Thanks to the mist, the ground was invisible beneath his feet—hell, he couldn’t see his feet. If he stumbled, especially carrying a pack, he could easily fall into the ditch running parallel to the roadside.