(REWRITING) The Skylar Experiment : Coveting

Chapter Five p.2 - What Is A Hunter

EMMA

I BACKTRACKED, the image engraved in my conscience. I bumped into Miles, who'd been standing behind me for who knows how long. I spun around, distancing myself from him.

"Emma," he said, lifting his hands in surrender. "I can explain."

"What is this?" I said. I wanted to yell it, but it turned out a frightened murmur.

His eyes glazed over, and I resisted the urge to run. I had nowhere to go. The garage door was closed, and he blocked the other exit.

"Please, don't freak out," he pleaded and took a step in my direction.

I jerked. "Don't come any closer."

Miles slowly lowered his hands. "Okay. I won't, but I need you to calm down. Please, give me a chance and listen."

"You better have one hell of an explanation for having an arsenal of weapons in your house." I should call the police the moment I leave this place. "Are you using these?"

He took a deep breath as if bracing for a long discussion, and an ominous, secretive light gleamed in his eyes. His voice hushed to a gentle speech like he didn't want to startle me—like I'd start screaming any second. Maybe I would. He definitely knew that.

"We know about the Wanderers, Emma," he dropped, and I sucked in a breath. "It's obvious there are mutants in this town."

The words hit me like a ton of bricks. It took a hot second to accept that I heard right. "Are you—"

"No, we're human, but we're aware of what's going on."

"Who's we?"

"Me. My Dad. Some of our friends that moved here with us," he said with a sheepish smile. "We don't mean any harm, I promise."

That didn't tell me why they had all these weapons under their roof. I gestured at those gingerly, as if they would come to life and shoot me. "What do you do with them?"

His shoulders slumped, and his face twisted like someone pinched him. "A Wanderer killed my mother when I was nine, and I'm not alone. We're a group that hunts Wanderers to prevent others from losing their families." He raised hopeful eyes in my direction. "I'm sure you can understand, being the only one to come out alive from the killings at Homecoming."

❖ ❖ ❖

He took me to his room once I was willing to listen. I sat on his bed, keeping a good distance between us. I still didn't know what to think of all this and I didn't feel safe even after walking away from the weapons in the garage. Miles could be hiding a knife on him or under the mattress. Maybe he was deranged and if I got violent or threatened to report him, he'd restrain me.

I tried not to think about it to calm my racing heart. He didn't look like he wanted to hurt me, but appearances rarely matched the reality. If I wanted to get out of here unscathed, I had to keep cool, because who knew how he'd react if I didn't agree with everything he said?

"Y-You all came here because of the attack?" I began, sensing a tremor run down my spine at the memories. My vision tinged in black, a dark hole threatening to overwhelm my senses with its smoky tendrils. I'm not there. I'm not there. I'm not there.

My nails dug into my palms, and the mild pain helped me stay grounded. Miles stared me down as I willed to rise above the jitters, schooling a straight face.