Catherine

Whoever it was didn't say a word. I thought about Clint's warning. Wait, listen first. My gut twisted, but I pushed it aside and peeked out the slit between the curtain and the glass. There was a man standing at the bottom of the porch steps. Early twenties, maybe. Long, dark hair stuck to the side of his face with sweat. Thin build, looked like he hadn't slept in days.

Whoever it was didn't say a word. I thought about Clint's warning. Wait, listen first. My gut twisted, but I pushed it aside and peeked out the slit between the curtain and the glass. There was a man standing at the bottom of the porch steps. Early twenties, maybe. Long, dark hair stuck to the side of his face with sweat. Thin build, looked like he hadn't slept in days.

He wore a tattered denim jacket, dirty jeans, and boots so beat up they looked like they were held together by willpower alone. He was staring straight at the door, not moving, not blinking, just standing there. I opened the door halfway and leaned out. You alright, man? He looked at me, eyes glassy and sunken like he'd been walking through hell. He licked his cracked lips and finally spoke.

He wore a tattered denim jacket, dirty jeans, and boots so beat up they looked like they were held together by willpower alone. He was staring straight at the door, not moving, not blinking, just standing there. I opened the door halfway and leaned out. You alright, man? He looked at me, eyes glassy and sunken like he'd been walking through hell. He licked his cracked lips and finally spoke.

My truck broke down. I walked from the wash. His voice was low, dry, barely audible over the breeze. The wash, I asked. ''That's five miles easy. You didn't pass anyone.'' He just shook his head. Something about him unsettled me, but I stepped aside and gestured in. ''Come in. I've got water. Landline's down, but I've got a short wave.'' He nodded once, almost robotically, and walked inside.

My truck broke down. I walked from the wash. His voice was low, dry, barely audible over the breeze. The wash, I asked. ''That's five miles easy. You didn't pass anyone.'' He just shook his head. Something about him unsettled me, but I stepped aside and gestured in. ''Come in. I've got water. Landline's down, but I've got a short wave.'' He nodded once, almost robotically, and walked inside.

He didn't ask to sit, didn't look around. He just stood by the fireplace, arms stiff at his sides. I handed him a glass of water and watched as he drank the entire thing in one long gulp, like he hadn't had a sip in days. "'You want food? Coffee?' I asked. He didn't answer, just turned and stared at the window. I tried again. "'You didn't see any cars out there? No hikers?' "'Nothing.

He didn't ask to sit, didn't look around. He just stood by the fireplace, arms stiff at his sides. I handed him a glass of water and watched as he drank the entire thing in one long gulp, like he hadn't had a sip in days. "'You want food? Coffee?' I asked. He didn't answer, just turned and stared at the window. I tried again. "'You didn't see any cars out there? No hikers?' "'Nothing.

Just silence. He wasn't twitchy or wild-eyed. He didn't seem high, but he also didn't seem right. There was something vacant behind his eyes.' Something wrong with how he held himself. Like his body remembered being a person, but the mind inside had forgotten how. Where exactly did your truck break down? I asked. He raised one hand slowly and pointed east, toward the canyon rim.

Just silence. He wasn't twitchy or wild-eyed. He didn't seem high, but he also didn't seem right. There was something vacant behind his eyes.' Something wrong with how he held himself. Like his body remembered being a person, but the mind inside had forgotten how. Where exactly did your truck break down? I asked. He raised one hand slowly and pointed east, toward the canyon rim.

Past the wash, about five miles. Five miles, in those boots, in this heat. He should have been dead on his feet, but he didn't even look winded. Well, sit tight, I said. I'll try the shortwave.

Past the wash, about five miles. Five miles, in those boots, in this heat. He should have been dead on his feet, but he didn't even look winded. Well, sit tight, I said. I'll try the shortwave.

I left him staring at the glass and went to the corner table where the radio sat, twisted the dial, got nothing but static, reached for the clipboard to note the attempt, and when I turned around, he was gone. I hadn't heard him move, no footsteps, no door creak, just gone. I rushed to the front door, still locked, kitchen, empty, bathroom, empty.

I left him staring at the glass and went to the corner table where the radio sat, twisted the dial, got nothing but static, reached for the clipboard to note the attempt, and when I turned around, he was gone. I hadn't heard him move, no footsteps, no door creak, just gone. I rushed to the front door, still locked, kitchen, empty, bathroom, empty.

the back door was still bolted shut and the windows were too narrow for anyone to squeeze through i even checked the closet half expecting to find him crouched there like some sick joke nothing just me and the wind i stood in the middle of the room for a long time waiting listening Eventually I sat down. I didn't turn off the lamp. I didn't touch my book.

the back door was still bolted shut and the windows were too narrow for anyone to squeeze through i even checked the closet half expecting to find him crouched there like some sick joke nothing just me and the wind i stood in the middle of the room for a long time waiting listening Eventually I sat down. I didn't turn off the lamp. I didn't touch my book.

I just stared at the fireplace for what felt like an hour, heart still thudding like I'd run a mile. Then the floorboards creaked behind me. Slow, measured, deliberate. I turned. He was back, sitting in the chair by the window. Exactly where he'd been before. Same posture, same expressionless stare. "'Hey, where did you go?' I asked." He didn't look at me. I took a step forward.

I just stared at the fireplace for what felt like an hour, heart still thudding like I'd run a mile. Then the floorboards creaked behind me. Slow, measured, deliberate. I turned. He was back, sitting in the chair by the window. Exactly where he'd been before. Same posture, same expressionless stare. "'Hey, where did you go?' I asked." He didn't look at me. I took a step forward.

Did you find your truck? Did someone come get you? Still nothing. Then he spoke. Just three words. Quiet. Measured. Like he'd rehearsed them. There are others. What others? I asked. But he didn't respond. The room felt colder. The shadows heavier. My skin prickled like a cold sweat was building under my clothes. "'Are you hurt?' I asked, keeping my distance.

Did you find your truck? Did someone come get you? Still nothing. Then he spoke. Just three words. Quiet. Measured. Like he'd rehearsed them. There are others. What others? I asked. But he didn't respond. The room felt colder. The shadows heavier. My skin prickled like a cold sweat was building under my clothes. "'Are you hurt?' I asked, keeping my distance.