Chapter 3

Kyle looked down Suffolk Road, the two-lane road in front of his house, but there was no bus in sight, only a dark blue Cadillac idling a few hundred feet away. Strange. Was he already late for the bus? He dashed across the street to the stop and scanned Suffolk's opposite end. There isn't a bus that way, either.

Kyle stiffened as the Cadillac began to roll gently towards him. Was he trying to cause a ruckus? Perhaps he was simply lost. He blinked and attempted to see the driver through the brightness of the rising sun on the windscreen. It wasn't nausea or indigestion that churned in his stomach; it was a deep-seated worry, a nest of chills building in his abdomen like a hundred hovering hummingbirds.

Kyle was going to cross the road to his home side, casually, of course. He took a step onto the road, snapping his fingers and shaking his head as if he had forgotten something. Kyle leaped back as the Cadillac's engine revved up. With a tire-biting screech, the automobile lurched forward, but the bus came around a distant bend in the road at the same time.

The Cadillac shrieked once more, this time coming to a halt just ten feet from Kyle. The driver's door swung open, revealing a short, stocky person. Kyle turned and took a rapid step toward the school, hoping that the bus would pick him up a little further down the road. It'll be a lot quicker than attempting to get home. After all, I can't afford to miss the bus.

"Langston!" exclaimed the driver. "Stop!"

He recognizes my name. However, I am unfamiliar with him. Continue walking. Kyle turned to watch the yellow boxy truck pass the Cadillac after hearing the bus engine. It came up to his side and came to a complete stop.

"Langston!"

Kyle shifted his weight. The Cadillac driver was now sprinting at him. Kyle hopped up the steps as the bus doors swung open, the hair on his neck sending a tingling sensation down his back. He gave the bus driver a wave. "Mr. Drake, hurry up and close the doors."

Mr. Drake swung the door's two panels together by using a lever. Kyle walked over to the vertical windows and gazed out. With his hands on his hips, the Cadillac driver stood on the sidewalk, peering at the bus. Kyle couldn't tell what he was thinking. Was he enraged? Disappointed? He leaned over and watched against as the bus drove away. Would he dash back to his car and attempt to track him down?

Kyle looked to the bus driver with a puzzled expression, unsure if he had spotted the man. Mr. Drake had never been one for words, but he could express himself with a magnificent collection of at least a thousand prune-faced frowns, one for every negative human feeling. Today's scowl read, "Langston, hurry up. I just spilt hot coffee on my clothes, and I'm not in the mood to sit here and watch you fret."

Kyle exhaled and cast his gaze along the bus's broad central aisle. He could see the Cadillac driver's receding form as he strolled back to his car through the back window. The trembling in his stomach had spread to his limbs, and he shook all over. What was the name of that guy? What did he intend to do with me?

Images from the strange dream resurfaced in his mind as he walked toward the seats. He winced at the boiling cauldron still seething in his stomach, recalling his hot breath and his mother's pained gaze. He felt as if he was being pursued by phantoms, a buzzing horde of unseen horrors. And now, close to home, a corporeal stalker lurked, bold and real.

Kyle shivered and drew his bag higher on his back. I have the feeling of being hunted, but who is the hunter?

Kyle looked for his best friend among the sea of faces. He recognized the back of his familiar head and his unmistakable, food-stained baseball cap after a few seconds. "Hey, Roxas," Kyle said as he stepped over a child's outstretched leg.

Roxas jerked around to the front, his brow furrowed and his chin clenched. "Hello, Kyle," he said.

Kyle leaned over, still standing, to peer through the back window. "What are you looking at?" He simply saw a stretched of bare pavement. The Cadillac had vanished from view.

Roxas raised his voice over the commotion of the other students to be heard. "Back there, there was an automobile. This morning, I noticed it cruising around our town. Do you recognize him?"

Kyle took the aisle seat Roxas had set aside for him. "Do you know who the driver is because I don't believe I do so, too."

"I hadn't seen him until this morning." Roxas's piercing blue eyes peered out from beneath the brim of his hat at Kyle, his bushy brows slanted down toward his slightly crooked nose. "He stopped by my house and told my father he was a writer conducting a story about the residents of the town and the strange things they do. My father advised him to get lost when he started asking intimate questions about your family."

"What is it about my family? Like what, exactly?"

"Like your father's hometown before he moved to Castlewood."

Kyle laid his backpack on the seat's floor. "Dad isn't even going to tell me about that one. I stopped asking because he's quiet about the past and none of the photographs in the photo album date before I was born."

"Well, my father said he'd call your father, so I think they'll work it out."

Kyle ripped off his Pop-Tart and blew on the corner slowly before biting into it. He felt Roxas's eager gaze searching for an answer as he repeated his blowing and biting routine.

Roxas eventually spoke up and asked his question. "What are you up to?"

"Heating it up by blowing on it."

"What? One-and-a-half degrees?" says Roxas.

As he took another bite, Kyle struggled to disguise a grin. "You'd be surprised," says Kyle.

"Whatever," Roxas answered calmly, "but if you don't want to be nicknamed Dragon Breath, you should stop doing things like that." He glanced out the window at the passing scenery before returning his gaze to Kyle. "This weekend, do you want to travel up to Nastia's Pass again? For a change, the fish bit better than the insects last time."

Kyle grabbed another piece and chewed it out before responding, making sure to keep his gaze straight ahead. "Sure. What's to stop you?"

Kyle's shoulder was shoved by Roxas. "What are your plans for the day? Are you unable to communicate? You're treating me like a leper. Is it possible that I have foul breath?"

Kyle had to laugh, but he didn't show it. "That's not you, buddy. Do you want to take a sniff of mine?"

Roxas made a cross with his two index fingers and pressed it against Kyle's nose. "Return, vile vampire! If you come any closer, it'll be a wooden stake."

Roxas's fingers were pressed down by Kyle. "Don't be a turkey now that Halloween is past and Thanksgiving is approaching!"

"You know how much I enjoy gobbling," says Roxas.

"I understand. At the Boy Scout picnic, I recall what you did."

"Are you referring to the incident with the hamburger?" Roxas came up with the question.

"You call it that, but I call it the event involving the hot dog, hamburger, baked beans, coleslaw, and potato chips."

"That's true. That probably sums it up. I'm still perplexed by the fuss."

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***