Destination Unknown

“Are we there yet?” I asked with a yawn. It felt like we’d been driving for days, only stopping to grab something to snack on and freshen up in the public restrooms.

“If you ask me that one more time, Cassandra…” Agnes snarled at me.

“Mom, seriously! You need to sleep. In an actual bed.” I threw my hands up in exasperation. She refused to stay over at a motel, pulling over at truck stops to rest for the night, fearing that Frank would find us. There was no way Frank would find us in the City of Los Angeles. We’re driving through the buzzing streets, weaving through traffic as if we were being hounded.

Agness glared at me through red-rimmed eyes. “I’ll sleep when we’re safe.”

“At least let me take over. Just tell me where we’re supposed to go.” For the love of Mike, let's go somewhere civilized. It seemed like she was determined to drive us to the end of the world.

“Fine!” she huffed and pulled the car over to the curb. “When you get to Santa Barbara, wake me up.”

“What or who the hell is in Santa Barbara?”

“We’re not going to Santa Barbara,” she said as she alighted from the car.

I got out as well, stretching, hearing my joints pop. The overwhelming smells of the city, exhaust fumes, hot tarmac melting in the summer heat, various smells of food, all blended to assault my senses. It was familiar but also not. I slid in behind the wheel and Agnes made herself comfortable in the back seat.

“Drive carefully, Cassandra. Don’t draw attention to us.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Of course, Mom.” Like I didn’t know.

***

I took the Pacific Coast Highway and made my way out of the city while Agnes snored lightly in the back seat of the old lemon. It amazed me that the car had made it thus far. It wasn’t light on fuel, though. The scenery along the route was breathtaking and almost made me forget the reason we were on our way in the first place. I rolled down the window to let the sea breeze lift my hair from my face, filling my lungs with the salty air. It felt good. It smelled of freedom.

Would Frank really come after us? Yes, of course he would. A man like Frank wouldn’t take humiliation lightly. Agnes seemed pretty sure he was still alive. Although I had hit him damn hard. Wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up with brain damage. One could only hope.

“Nope, he has a thick skull,” a clear voice popped up in my brain, startling me so much that I hit the brakes hard and the car skidded off the road.

“What the fuck...” My hands froze on the steering wheel, my face devoid of color as I stared at my reflection in the rearview. Had I really heard it?

Agnes sat up, dazed. “What happened?”

I didn’t know what to say to her. “I swerved for a… a dog or something.”

“Alright, let me drive.”

I gave over control without argument, rattled by the unknown voice in my head. Maybe that was just lucid dreaming. I’ve heard of things like it before. The alternative was way too upsetting.

***

At dusk we drove through the coastal town of Santa Barbara and a few miles further, Agness turned the car onto a dirt road.

“Mom?” Concern made my voice rise an octave. It was getting dark fast, and the road was deserted.

“Not far now,” she mused.

I suspiciously eyed the black trees on opposite sides of the road. Like sentinels, they guarded the stretch of winding road, casting menacing shadows over our intruding car as we inched our way forward. Clutching the edge of my seat, my overactive imagination made me see glowing eyes peering at us from the dense vegetation.  

As we rounded a bend, a huge metal gate came into view. On it a sign read: Private Property. Trespassers will be eaten!

“Mother, are you sure this is the place?” Who in their right mind would want to go there? Who even lives out there in the sticks?

“Yes, this is the place,” she said, a determined set to her mouth. To me, she looked like someone steeling herself for an unpleasant encounter, and my anxiety amplified.

The gate opened, and a tall, brawny man approached the car.

“Holy shit…” I muttered under my breath. He didn’t look friendly at all. And was it my imagination, or did his eyes glow?

“State your name and business.” The man said, his voice sounded like a growl. “This is private property.”

Agnes gave him one of her charming smiles. It did nothing for him. His face remained in a scowl.

“Hi, I’m Agnes Browne, and this is my daughter Cassandra. We’re here to see Beta Joel.”

The bearded guy popped his head in through the window and sniffed in my direction. He frowned, and I frowned back.

Yes, it’s been some time since we’ve had a proper bath, but hell… Rude much?

“You’re human, but she’s not,” he remarked, the frown deepening between his bushy brows. “Is he expecting you?”

Huh? “Agnes!” I hissed at mother. “Let’s go.” There was something wrong with this guy. This was just all wrong.

“Well, if you will just contact Beta Joel and tell him, I need to see him. Please.” She gave another smile to the weird man.

“Mother…” I urged, but she shushed me with an irritated wave of her hand.

“Agnes Browne?” the neanderthal asked again, and Agnes nodded. “One moment.” He turned away and just stood there, looking down.

I pulled at Agnes’ sleeve. “Mom. We need to go. This can’t possibly be the right place.”

She turned to me; an inexplicable look of deep sorrow crossed her face. “Cassie, honey, we are where we’re supposed to be. This is where you must be.”

“Mom, you’re scaring me.” I could deal with Frank Morelli’s shit, but this… I am freaking out!

The bearded, rude guy popped his head back into the car. “I will take you to him.” He opened the driver’s door and motioned for Agnes to get out. Docilely, she went in the back. He got in, folding himself almost in half, eating up the space.

 I shifted, looking back at Agnes with panic filled eyes. She smiled at me reassuringly, which did not ease my anxiety. We were alone with a big, scary dude in the middle of fuck knows. He could murder us and discard our bodies, and no one would be the wiser. No amount of smiling will help us then, Agnes.

The car groaned under the man’s considerable weight. The heavy iron gate opened, and he drove through. At first the road was so dark the lights of the old lemon hardly penetrated it, but as we rounded another bend, twinkling lights ahead gave me a glimmer of hope. Which I quelled immediately, because my mind went back to an old horror film, Wrong Turn. This seemed eerily similar.

“His house is up ahead,” the suddenness of his voice made me jump and I muttered a curse. He looked at me sharply. “He’s waiting.”

“Thank you,” Agnes replied.

We stopped in front of a quaint log home, brightly lit from inside. The door opened and a tall and menacing man stepped out onto the porch. He had fiery red hair and a beard to match, and he looked none too friendly.

“Hello Joel,” Agnes said, her voice held a tenderness I’ve never heard before.