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“Right,” Elijah agreed.

Caelyn put her fingers to her temples and rubbed them. She was starting to get a throbbing headache. “And now we’re going to drop in unannounced on your friend, whose number you no longer have.”

“That’s pretty much the size of it.” Elijah didn’t seem too concerned. He started to whistle softly.

“Elijah, how do you know your friend Trey even still lives where you think he lives? People move, you know.”

“Trey hasn’t moved. I heard it through the grapevine that him and his girlfriend are holed up there, and he’s making a living selling stuff on eBay. The guy’s a packrat, and I doubt he’s up and moved in the last few months.”

“What if he doesn’t want us there?”

“I already told you, he owes me.”

“For what?”

Elijah put a finger to her lips and pressed gently. “That’s enough. No more questions. I’m done being grilled.”

Caelyn pushed his hand away and he shot her a wounded look.

She laughed. “Don’t pout, Elijah.”

“I’m not pouting. I just wish you’d trust me a little more.”

“It’s hard to trust you when you keep doing things that are going to get us hurt.”

“This is my world now, Caelyn,” he said. His voice was somber. “Your way of doing things doesn’t work in this world. So you’re going to have to try and do things my way for a little while.”

Caelyn didn’t know what to say to that.

She suspected he was right.

***

Dawn was almost starting to break as they arrived at Elijah’s friend’s house.

Except house wasn’t exactly the word that came to mind when Caelyn first laid eyes on the sprawling, ramshackle structure that they came upon as they turned down a long, bumpy, dirt road that was just wide enough to fit the car.

As they pulled into the dirt lot that was both driveway and front yard, a couple of mangy dogs appeared from out of the woods and began barking loudly at them.

“Shit,” Elijah said. “They’re being loud as hell.”

Caelyn looked at the dogs with dismay. They could have been strays for the way their fur was matted and dirty, but both wore collars.

They continued to bark and howl, and stir up a tremendous racket.

“I wish we had something to give them,” Caelyn said.

Elijah snapped his fingers. “Shit, the snacks.” Leaning over her and grabbing for the bag of potato chips, he started to roll down his window to feed them.

Caelyn shrieked as both dogs leapt up on their hind legs and placed their front paws on the side of the car, their snouts pressed up through the slightly open window.

“Elijah, roll the window up!” she cried.

“Relax, kid, I don’t think we’re dealing with Cujo here.” He started tossing the chips at the dogs through the window, and before long they were searching on the ground for the food, and not as interested in the strangers sitting in their yard.

“What do we do now?” Caelyn said.

“Now, we go knock on the door like civilized people.” Elijah opened his door and started to get out.

“Wait!” Caelyn yelled, as she saw the front door of the house fly open with a bang.

A large man held a shotgun and pointed it at them as he walked out of the house.

He was wearing dirty overalls and his feet were bare. His hair was blond, tied back in a ponytail, and he had a bushy beard too.

“Shit, I forgot he likes guns,” Elijah said. “You stay put.”

“Don’t go out there.”

“He won’t shoot me,” Elijah told her, starting to get out of the car with his hands up.

“Who the fuck are you and why are you on my property—“ the man started to shout, but as soon as he got a better look at Elijah, he put the shotgun to his side, and his ferocious expression turned first shocked and then ecstatically happy. “Holy shit! It’s you!”

“Can I put my hands down now?” Elijah said.

“Hell yes! Get over here you crazy bastard!” The blond man said.

So I guess this is Trey, she thought as he started walking towards Elijah.

Before long they were hugging and looking each other over. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their voices were excited and enthusiastic, and punctuated by a lot of bursts of laughter.

“Did I scare your lady?” Trey said, turning to the car and approaching.

Caelyn got out slowly, feeling a strong urge to leave. She didn’t want to stay here—not this place, not now. Something about it simply felt wrong.

But Elijah looked so happy, and they couldn’t just leave. She put on her best smile as Trey’s dogs began nosing at her legs and whining for attention.

“Don’t mind Goose and Maverick,” Trey said. “They’re just damned scavengers, but they’re harmless and they hardly ever bite.” He held out his large hand, while the other held the shotgun by the long barrel as if it was a cane.

“Trey.”

Caelyn shook his hand. “I’m Caelyn. Elijah said you’re a really good old friend of his.”

Trey cocked an eye at Elijah. “Old? You told her I’m old?”

“Don’t mess with her, Trey,” Elijah laughed. “And where’s your girlfriend?”

“Who, Paris?” Trey said, suddenly hacking up phlegm and turning his head to spit into the dirt nearby. “She’s hungover, sleeping it off.”

“And the noise didn’t wake her?” Elijah laughed.

“A megaton bomb wouldn’t wake Paris when she’s out.” He squinted as if mentioning his wife’s name gave him heartburn. “Anyway, enough of my babbling.

Come on inside, for god’s sake. I want to hear what brings you out to the boonies at this unholy hour. I figure it must be something good.”

Elijah gave Caelyn a look as if to ask if she was okay.

She smiled as best she could. Then they went inside.

Elijah had been right when he’d said that Trey was a packrat. The house was filled with boxes and various furniture and objects that might have been for sale, or perhaps it was all part of the house. She couldn’t tell the difference. The clutter was bad enough that it made her think of that TV show, Hoarders, where the compulsive people had to be forced to throw out the junk they thought was so valuable.

“This is my home,” Trey said, as he led them through a maze that cut through the stacks of boxes and pieces of furniture, knickknacks and trash. “Let’s go to the basement where we can sit. I’ll brew us some coffee.”

They went downstairs, where somehow there was a bit less clutter, although there were still boxes stacked just about everywhere. But Trey had cleared out space for a desk and a computer, plus a sofa and recliner. Nearby, a small table housed an electric teakettle and tiny microwave.

Trey leaned his shotgun against the wall behind his desk and then went to the table and grabbed some mugs from out of a box nearby. He put the mugs down and started the kettle. “So,” he said, opening a jar of Folgers instant coffee. “What brings you to the boonies?”

Elijah was standing awkwardly next to Caelyn. She wanted to grab his arm and pull him with her as she ran up the stairs and out of this house. But she calmed her nerves. Sure, the place was a little claustrophobic, and Trey liked to carry a shotgun around, but other than that he seemed perfectly fine.

“We…I…ran into a little trouble with the law.”

“You don’t say.” Trey snorted, then looked up at them. “Go on, sit down, make yourselves comfortable.”

Caelyn sat down on the sofa. It smelled like wet dog. She tried to relax, affixing a smile to her face. Elijah sat next to her, but leaned forward. “I was hoping we could maybe chill here for a day or two if you don’t mind. But if it’s a problem, we can go somewhere else.”

“Bullshit.” Trey started spooning coffee grounds into the mugs. “You like your coffee strong?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at them.

“Sure, I guess,” Caelyn muttered.

“So, we’d just stay for a couple days, until things cool off, and then we’d be out of your hair,” Elijah continued.

“How do you know?” Trey asked, his back to them as he continued making the coffee.

The kettle began whistling.

“How do I know what?”

“How do you know that you only need to stay a few days?”

Elijah looked at Caelyn.

She shook her head and whispered. “We should go.”

He mouthed at her.
What?

“We should go,” she whispered, a little louder.

Trey cleared his throat. Caelyn looked up to see him facing their direction once more. “If you’re really in trouble with the cops, then you probably need to hang here for a lot more than two days, bud.”

“Yeah, well I can’t ask you to do that for me.”

“You didn’t ask. I’m saying it for you.” Trey stroked his beard. “You don’t have to tell me what you did or didn’t do. I don’t give a shit. Just hang here for a few weeks or a month, make sure its safe before you head back out to the world again.”

Elijah smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Trey. I really appreciate that, bro.”

“No doubt,” Trey replied, turning back to the table where he began pouring water into the mugs.

He carried the steaming cups over to the couch and handed one to each.

Caelyn accepted hers with a quiet thank you, unable to even meet Trey’s gaze.

Something about him made her nervous. Maybe it was his size, or his unkempt hair, or the shotgun he liked to carry around.

Whatever it was, she decided then and there to tell Elijah that this wasn’t going to work.

Trey went and made himself the final cup of coffee.

“This is really good,” Elijah said, holding up his mug appreciatively.

Caelyn sipped hers. It tasted like sludge, but it was drinkable. “It’s so good,” she agreed.

Trey stroked his beard and sat down in the recliner with his own cup. There was a picture of a pyramid with an eye in the middle of it on the side of the mug. “So,” Trey said, “we got a spare room you both can use. But only one bed,” he grinned.

“That’s fine, I can sleep on the floor,” Elijah joked.

“How long you been running for?” Trey asked. His expression had turned serious.

Elijah shifted on the couch. “Not long. About a day.”

Trey nodded. “I’ll check the news and my police scanner to see if this thing’s blowing up or not.”

“I doubt you’ll find anything, not in New York anyway,” Elijah said.

Trey’s cheeks reddened. “Are you kidding me? Everything’s global now, man.

You can’t fart in Australia without someone in Homeland Security knowing about it.”

Caelyn repressed the urge to roll her eyes. Instead she nodded seriously and raised her mug to her lips.

Elijah switched the subject, seemingly trying to head the conversation into smoother territory. “So, what have you been doing to keep yourself busy these days?”

Trey raised his hands. “You’re looking at it.”

“I doubt that,” Elijah said. “You’re always into something. Buying, selling, having some dude in Taiwan manufacture a piece of jewelry for you to sell at fifty times the price here.”

“Sure I do a little buying and selling,” Trey said, “but it hardly pays anymore.

Everyone and their grandmother thinks they’re a fucking antique dealer now. The business is oversaturated and the margins are for shit.”

“Well, the economy sucks.”

“Since when do you know jack shit about the economy, bud?”

Elijah shrugged. “You’re right, I was talking out of my ass.” He grinned, and then both of them started laughing hysterically.

Caelyn didn’t even know what to say. All she knew was that the first chance she got, she was going to convince Elijah to get them the hell out of this crazy house.

***

Before long, Caelyn mentioned feeling tired, and Trey had immediately insisted on showing them to the spare room. First, he had to lead them back upstairs and through the labyrinth of boxes and trash—yes, it was most definitely trash—and into the small room that was itself mostly covered in boxes.

“Here’s your bed,” Trey said, gesturing to the small, ancient looking mattress sitting on a box spring. “It’s a twin, so you’ll be cozy enough. And there’s really no room on the floor anyway.” He winked at Elijah.

“This is perfect,” Elijah said, slapping him on the back. “I can’t thank you enough, Trey.”

“Sure you can.” He sighed. “Okay, I best go check on the little lady, make sure she’s still breathing.” He walked out and closed the door behind him.

Caelyn sat heavily on the bed and put her head in her hands. “Oh my God.”

Elijah sat next to her and put his arm over her shoulders. “You okay, kid?”

She turned her head and gave him a sidelong glance. “No, I’m not okay.” She lowered her voice. “We need to leave. Now.”

Elijah leaned back and stared at her with surprise. “Leave? Why?”

“You’re not seriously asking me that question. I think it’s pretty obvious why.

Look around.”

He did look around. His face registered nothing but faint amusement. “I mean, it’s not the Museum of Fine Arts but it’ll do in a pinch.”

“Not for me it won’t.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Please, Elijah. I don’t like it here. This place gives me the creeps. And so does your friend.”

“Who, Trey?”

“Yes, the one with the shotgun. And he actually pointed it at us, in case you forgot.”

Elijah laughed a little. He covered her hand with his hand and rubbed her fingers soothingly. “I know this is a different sort of life than what you’re used to. But that doesn’t mean Trey’s a bad guy.”

“I didn’t say he’s bad. I just have a really awful feeling about staying here.

Something’s not right, Elijah.”

“Listen to me, Caelyn. We need to stay here.”

She tried to pull her hand away from his grasp. “Don’t say that. It’s not true and I’m not going to.”

“We have nowhere else to go.” Elijah’s expression had changed.

For the first time since he’d come to get her, Caelyn felt really and truly frightened. “What do you mean? We can stay at a hotel.”

“Do you have that kind of cash on you?” he asked.

“No, I’d use my credit card—“

“And the police would see that you used it, and they’d know exactly where we are. We can’t use credit cards.”

“But they don’t know you’re with me,” she said.

He looked at her like she was the most innocent, naïve person on the face of the earth. “How long do you think it will take the police to put two and two together and go looking to see if I visited my girlfriend?”