New Mexico town claimed the warehouses as its own couldn’t be much farther.
And then, signs of life. Modest single and bi-level homes appeared alongside the road on patches of dry, brown grass. Cars passed her on the street, children played in yards until their parents called them in for dinner, streetlamps and door-side lanterns switched on as twilight turned to night, and Georgia felt like crying. She felt like throwing open the car door, hugging the nearest person and shouting, “You’re alive!”
I’ve gone mad , she thought, completely off my rocker , but she couldn’t help grinning at the idea of scaring some bewildered townie with a random display of affection.
The residential neighbourhood eventually gave way to a small downtown area with a movie theatre and little specialty shops lining the sidewalks. A tiny post office stood across from the theatre, the sign over its doors proudly proclaiming the town’s name to be Buckshot Hill. It struck her as an odd choice, considering it was built on some of the flattest land she’d ever seen, but she couldn’t deny the name had a certain Wild West charm to it.
Downtown Buckshot Hill was teeming with life. She drove slowly, watching people navigate the sidewalks and get in and out of their cars. Locals out for a carefree night of going to the movies, of pie and coffee, and then it would be home and early to bed, kiss the kids and turn off the light. They didn’t know how close the Dragon had come to their little town. How close they’d been to death. How could they? Most of them probably wouldn’t hear about the massacre at the diner until tomorrow morning’s news, and even then they wouldn’t know the truth behind the headline.
The Dragon was her burden and hers alone. She couldn’t tell anyone. They’d gape at her like she’d put a cat on her head and proclaimed herself Queen Elizabeth. She’d seen the look before. It had been all over Drew’s face the day he walked out on her.
She tried to push Drew from her thoughts, but the scenery wasn’t helping. Young couples were everywhere, holding hands while they dashed across the street in front of her, sitting close together at umbrella-topped tables outside the ice cream parlour. Girls looked adoringly into the faces of their high school sweethearts, tossed their freshly brushed and styled hair while their boyfriends pulled colourful varsity jackets around their broad shoulders. Georgia frowned, bit her lip. Drew had owned a similar varsity jacket when they met in college. He told her it belonged to his brother, a high school football star, and that he himself only wore it with a sense of irony, so he’d always remember football stars made more money than philosophy majors. He said it would keep him humble when he eventually won the Nobel. She’d laughed at that, and looking back, she was pretty sure that was the moment she’d stupidly fallen in love with a dorky philosophy major from Topeka with a girlfriend waiting for him back home.
But she’d been nineteen, full of wisdom and certain she knew everything there was to know. She thought she could hang out with him all semester and keep her feelings at bay. But the night they went together to see an excruciating Drama Department production of Guys and Dolls , everything changed. It felt like a lifetime ago . . .
They walked out of the campus theatre trying to keep their laughter inside until they got far enough away, but it didn’t work. Drew broke first, laughing so hard Georgia thought he was going to cry, and then that made her laugh too. When they caught their breath, she reached out without even knowing why and touched his varsity jacket. She ran a hand over it like it was the finest silk, gripped the hem at his waist and gave it a playful tug. Drew turned, and the next thing she knew, her back was against the wall and Drew was kissing her.
“I hope that was okay,” he said, “because I’ve kind of been wanting to do that for a while. In
And then, signs of life. Modest single and bi-level homes appeared alongside the road on patches of dry, brown grass. Cars passed her on the street, children played in yards until their parents called them in for dinner, streetlamps and door-side lanterns switched on as twilight turned to night, and Georgia felt like crying. She felt like throwing open the car door, hugging the nearest person and shouting, “You’re alive!”
I’ve gone mad , she thought, completely off my rocker , but she couldn’t help grinning at the idea of scaring some bewildered townie with a random display of affection.
The residential neighbourhood eventually gave way to a small downtown area with a movie theatre and little specialty shops lining the sidewalks. A tiny post office stood across from the theatre, the sign over its doors proudly proclaiming the town’s name to be Buckshot Hill. It struck her as an odd choice, considering it was built on some of the flattest land she’d ever seen, but she couldn’t deny the name had a certain Wild West charm to it.
Downtown Buckshot Hill was teeming with life. She drove slowly, watching people navigate the sidewalks and get in and out of their cars. Locals out for a carefree night of going to the movies, of pie and coffee, and then it would be home and early to bed, kiss the kids and turn off the light. They didn’t know how close the Dragon had come to their little town. How close they’d been to death. How could they? Most of them probably wouldn’t hear about the massacre at the diner until tomorrow morning’s news, and even then they wouldn’t know the truth behind the headline.
The Dragon was her burden and hers alone. She couldn’t tell anyone. They’d gape at her like she’d put a cat on her head and proclaimed herself Queen Elizabeth. She’d seen the look before. It had been all over Drew’s face the day he walked out on her.
She tried to push Drew from her thoughts, but the scenery wasn’t helping. Young couples were everywhere, holding hands while they dashed across the street in front of her, sitting close together at umbrella-topped tables outside the ice cream parlour. Girls looked adoringly into the faces of their high school sweethearts, tossed their freshly brushed and styled hair while their boyfriends pulled colourful varsity jackets around their broad shoulders. Georgia frowned, bit her lip. Drew had owned a similar varsity jacket when they met in college. He told her it belonged to his brother, a high school football star, and that he himself only wore it with a sense of irony, so he’d always remember football stars made more money than philosophy majors. He said it would keep him humble when he eventually won the Nobel. She’d laughed at that, and looking back, she was pretty sure that was the moment she’d stupidly fallen in love with a dorky philosophy major from Topeka with a girlfriend waiting for him back home.
But she’d been nineteen, full of wisdom and certain she knew everything there was to know. She thought she could hang out with him all semester and keep her feelings at bay. But the night they went together to see an excruciating Drama Department production of Guys and Dolls , everything changed. It felt like a lifetime ago . . .
They walked out of the campus theatre trying to keep their laughter inside until they got far enough away, but it didn’t work. Drew broke first, laughing so hard Georgia thought he was going to cry, and then that made her laugh too. When they caught their breath, she reached out without even knowing why and touched his varsity jacket. She ran a hand over it like it was the finest silk, gripped the hem at his waist and gave it a playful tug. Drew turned, and the next thing she knew, her back was against the wall and Drew was kissing her.
“I hope that was okay,” he said, “because I’ve kind of been wanting to do that for a while. In
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