A Beast Among Gods (The Mac Tire Chronicles) by Garnet Davenport (have you read this book .TXT) 📕

I would be in hell. I was a beast. A half-breed. And destined for something I had no control over.

I stood, stumbled to my bike, and rode it until I found the nearest town. I picked up a payphone and called home. Jean picked up. I let her say hello a couple of times before I said anything just to hear her voice.

“Hello?”

“Jean.”

“Oh my God, Jefferies, it’s Striker. Come quick.”

I heard footsteps in the background and then Jefferies’ old, familiar voice said, “Striker? Where are you? I will come get you.”

“I don’t know exactly where I am, but I need to do this. For Lucy. And Taylor. And everyone else that has died because of me.”

“We understand, but can’t you do this close to home?” Jean said.

“Do you guys know what I am?” I asked.

It was silent on the other end of the line.

“We wanted to give you time when you first came to us. But after some time, it just wasn’t important anymore. Twisted Belly has always been a safe haven for anyone with mac tire blood. No questions asked. We just wanted you to feel safe for once. And then Lucy came around. You were meant to be.”

I felt that pain in my chest as if it was happening all over again, and I was losing her.

“I need some time. I’ll check in with you guys when I can, but I’ve got to get what I’m feeling under control.”

“Striker, be safe and remember we love you,” Jean said.

“That’s right, you’ll always have a place here waiting for when you get back,” Jefferies added.

“I know,” I replied.

“We love you,” Jean said.

I couldn’t say it back. I couldn’t say anything. I was choked up and couldn’t say anything else to them.

“All right,” Jean sighed, “we’re here if you need us.”

I swallowed hard and said, “Okay.”

I hung up before they could say anything else. I needed the time to figure out myself. I needed to get away to control the beast inside of me. I wasn’t any good to anyone in the state I was in. I got on my bike and found the first motel in my path. I’d spend the night and get some food into me then go find what could control the anger that brings the beast.

➣Chapter 20

Lost But Wanting To Be Found

I slept for nearly twenty-four hours, showered, drank some water from the faucet in the bathroom, and rinsed and dried my shirt over the shower rod while I slept. When I woke, I looked at the laminated card of all the close by food joints to grab a bite to eat. I found a diner about four miles out from the motel. I got on my bike and rode down the road.

It was a small place, your typical diner, complete with a long bar and little booths across from it. I nodded on my way in through the front door to the waitress behind the counter.

“Have a seat anywhere,” she called out and went back to pouring a mug of coffee.

I walked over to the bar and sat at the furthest seat away from everyone. I wasn’t in any mood to speak with anyone, and I knew my first impression with people isn’t always welcoming.

The waitress came down to me, order pad in hand, and asked, “What can I get you started?”

“Coffee, please. And an ice water. Can I just get like fifteen slices of bacon?”

She chuckled. “I can do that for you.”

“Thanks.”

She walked away and put my ticket up on a metal spinning contraption I’d only seen in movies. She grabbed a plastic glass and scooped some cubed ice into it then filled it with water. She grabbed a mug and a coffee pot and made her way back to me. She set down the glass and then the mug and poured hot coffee into the mug.

“There’s some half and half in that bowl,” she said, nodding to my left near the wall.

“Thank you.”

“So, you’re new in town. We get a lot of strangers, and they’re either looking for something or running from something. So which are you?”

Her tone was friendly, but there was something about the way she had asked that made me think she already knew. I tapped the top of my finger on the counter.

“Both.”

“Well, I tell everyone who’s looking to get lost that they need to go see the shaman.”

“Who?”

“The shaman. He lives out off Highway 15 just outside of Jean.”

I stopped stirring my coffee and looked up.

“Did you say Jean?”

“I sure did, honey. It’s about fifty miles south.”

“Do you have an address?”

“Uh… well no, but when you get on the fifteen and head south, something out there will pull you toward what you’re looking for.”

I looked her straight in the eyes, thinking she was joking around, but then when I looked at the other diner guests, they looked just as serious.

“Really?” I asked with a scoff.

“Striker, he’s waiting for you,” the waitress said.

My eyes went straight back to hers.

“Did I tell you my name?” I asked.

She didn’t answer. I looked at the other diners, and then the bell atop the stainless steel waiting section for plates dinged, and she turned away from me as if I hadn’t just asked her anything. She grabbed my plate and came back over, setting it down in front of me.

“Here you go.”

“How did you know my name?” I asked.

“Sugar, I don’t know your name. Maybe you should get yourself checked out.”

“But you just told me to go see the shaman down fifteen and called me by my name,” I replied.

“No, I just took your order and that was all. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head or something?” she said, eyeing me as if I was crazy.

“Never mind. I must still be trying to wake up or something.”

“All right, sugar. Eat up before all that bacon gets cold,” she said and walked off, looking at me once more over her shoulder.

Thinking about