𐂂

.𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝘃𝐢𝐢.
𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉'𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈
.𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢.

La Push, WA.
May 2010

             𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐁'𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐗. Seth and Evee were driving down the winding highway toward a small diner on the outskirts of town. The hum of tires against the pavement was a familiar, comforting sound as the golden hour cast long shadows across the road.

Evee sat next to Seth, her fingers lightly tapping the rhythm of a song only she could hear. The radio played softly in the background, but her mind seemed elsewhere. Seth glanced over at her, noticing her faraway look.

"Everything okay?" Seth asked, his voice low, like he didn't want to disturb the tranquility.

"Yeah, just... thinking," she murmured, her voice distant. She leaned her head against the window, her eyes unfocused. Something was swirling in her mind, but she couldn't figure out what exactly it was.

They continued driving in comfortable silence, the kind of silence that only happens when you've known someone for a long time and there's no need for words. But then, without warning, Evee sat up straight, her hand shooting out in front of her, palm up, signaling him to stop.

"Stop," she said, her voice quiet but insistent.

Seth blinked, surprised. "What? Why?"

She said it again, louder, more frantic. "Stop!"

His foot instinctively hit the brake, and the car jolted to a halt in the middle of the road. Seth glanced at her, confusion knitting his brow. "What's going on? Evee?"

Her breath was shallow now, her eyes wide, scanning the darkness ahead. "Turn around. Go back. To the gas station."

Seth furrowed his brow. "The gas station? What are you—?"

"Just do it, Seth! Turn around!" She nearly shouted, panic seeping into her voice.

Without another word, he flipped the car around, the tires screeching lightly as they turned in the direction Evee had pointed. She was fixated on the road ahead, her gaze unblinking, her fingers curling into tight fists in her lap.

The gas station loomed in the distance as they pulled into the parking lot. It was quiet, the neon lights of the pumps flickering softly in the night. Seth parked the car and turned off the engine, still unsure of what was happening.

Evee was already unbuckling her seatbelt. "The doors open," she said, her voice oddly calm now, as though the earlier panic had drained from her.

Seth looked over, puzzled. "What? So?"

Evee was already opening the door, her body moving mechanically, as if she wasn't fully in control. Her steps were slow, deliberate, like she was being pulled toward something unseen.

"Evee!" Seth called, but she didn't respond. She was already out of the car, walking toward the gas station door, which stood ajar as though waiting for her.

A strange unease crept up Seth's spine. He grabbed his keys, slamming the door shut behind him, and rushed after her. "Evee, stop! This isn't funny!"

But she didn't turn around. She didn't even acknowledge him. She just kept walking, her eyes fixed ahead, her footsteps echoing eerily in the quiet parking lot. Seth's heart pounded in his chest as he followed her, unsure of what was happening but knowing something was terribly wrong.

As they reached the entrance to the gas station, Evee paused, standing at the threshold, as if taking in the scene before her. Seth caught up just in time to see what she was staring at, and his blood turned cold.

The cashier's body was draped over the counter, lifeless and grotesque. The blood had pooled around the body, dark and sticky against the linoleum floor. The poor man's arms hung limply, his face frozen in an expression of horror, eyes wide open, staring into the empty space as if trying to comprehend what had happened.

Seth's breath caught in his throat, and he froze, unable to move, unable to think. Time seemed to stand still as the reality of what they were seeing began to sink in.

Evee gasped, a shrill scream ripping from her throat. She stumbled back, her hand covering her mouth in disbelief.

"Shit," Seth muttered under his breath, his pulse racing. Instinctively, he grabbed Evee's arm and pulled her back, his other hand pressing against her shoulder to guide her toward the door. "We need to get out of here," he said urgently, his voice low and tight.

Evee's eyes were wide, her face pale as she fought against his grip. "No, we need to help him! We need to—"

"Evee, we can't!" Seth cut her off. "It's too late, he's dead. We're not safe here. We need to go."

But Evee didn't listen. She tried to pull away from him, her body trembling. "We can't just leave him there. Someone has to know—"

"Seth!" she shouted, but he was already tugging her through the door and back toward the car. He could hear her cries echoing in his ears as he rushed her back to the safety of the vehicle.

Once they were inside, he slammed the door shut and started the engine, his hands shaking slightly. The car jerked forward, and they sped away from the gas station, leaving the nightmare behind them.

They didn't speak for a long while. The tension in the car was thick, suffocating, as Evee sat with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, staring out the window.

Finally, when they reached a stretch of road that was far enough away, Evee turned to him, her eyes burning with a mix of confusion and anger. "Why did we leave? Why didn't you stay? We could have helped him, Seth."

"He was dead Evee!" Seth rose his voice at her for the first time, panic set over him. Seth's knuckles gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenched. "A Quillette boy at the scene of a dead white man doesn't look good," he muttered, his voice heavy with grim practicality. "We don't want to be part of whatever mess is about to go down there."

Evee stared at him, disbelief on her face. "You're telling me we left because of... what? Because you're scared of what people might think? After what we just saw?"

Seth's gaze stayed fixed on the road ahead, his voice quiet. "Evee, it's not about being scared. It's about being smart. That kind of thing attracts attention. Attention we don't want. We don't know who's responsible for that. But we sure as hell don't want to be caught in the middle of it."

She didn't respond right away, her fists clenched in her lap as she turned back to look out the window. The words hung between them, heavy and unresolved.

But Seth didn't care. They were alive. And in a world like this, that was all that mattered.

Seth kept his eyes on the road, the weight of the silence pressing down on him as the miles passed by. He could feel Evee's anger simmering beside him, her body stiff in her seat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The words she'd thrown at him echoed in his mind—Why did we leave? Why didn't you stay? It wasn't like him to run, not from something like this. But something about the situation, the way Evee had been drawn to that gas station, the way that body had been left there, disturbed him in a way he couldn't quite explain.

When the silence became too much, he took a deep breath and spoke quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Evee, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I dragged you out of there like that. I should've done more, should've stayed and called for help. I get it if you're mad at me."

She didn't answer right away, but he could feel her eyes on him, piercing, demanding. It was then that he realized this wasn't just about running from danger. It was about something much deeper. Something he hadn't shared with her, something she hadn't understood.

"I didn't want to leave, but you don't get it," Seth continued, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. He could feel his pulse quicken as he fought to put his thoughts into words. "It's different for me, Evee. Being Quiliette, I've had to think about things differently my whole life. You see the situation, and you think 'we need to help,' or 'we need to stay,' but I can't afford that. Not like you can. I've had to grow up knowing that I don't get to make the same decisions as everyone else. When something goes wrong, people look at me differently. I don't get the benefit of the doubt. I'm a 'suspect' the moment my feet hit the ground. If the wrong person sees me there, the wrong people get involved... things can get bad quickly. It's not just about helping, it's about surviving." He exhaled sharply, his mind racing as he spoke. "You saw what happened. The body, the blood... but you didn't see the way people might react to me being involved in it. I can't risk that. I can't risk my people. I'm sorry you don't understand. But I had to make sure we got out of there safely. I had no choice."

Evee's gaze softened, but her anger still simmered just beneath the surface. "I get that it's different for you. But I don't think you understand what this is doing to me, Seth." Her voice cracked slightly, betraying the emotion she was fighting to hold back. Feeling more guilty that she ever had before. "I don't understand what's happening to me." she whispered.

Seth bit his lip, guilt gnawing at him, but he knew she was right in her own way. "I know," he said softly. "And I know it feels wrong. But I can't afford to make mistakes, Evee. Not when it's my family and pack on the line."

The car hummed in the background as they both sat in that uneasy silence, each one wrestling with the other's perspective. Evee sighed deeply, her breath shaky as she finally spoke again, softer this time. "I don't know what it's like for you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And I'm glad you don't." Seth whispered back, his voice soft and gentle.

They drove in silence for a while, the weight of the conversation settling in. Both of them knew they were still miles away from understanding each other fully, but there was one thing that was clear: they were in this together. And, somehow, that was enough for now.

The silence stretched between them, but it felt different now. Less like an impenetrable wall and more like a shared space where the two of them could, for just a moment, breathe. Seth kept his eyes on the road, but his mind was still racing, replaying the words that had been said, the look in Evee's eyes. She was angry, yes, but there was something else there too—hurt.

He felt it too, in his chest, heavy and sharp. He hadn't wanted to hurt her. He'd just been trying to protect them both in the only way he knew how.

As they neared her street, the tension in the car was palpable, but Seth could feel the weight of the moment shifting. He reached over with his left hand, slowly, cautiously, and placed it over hers on the seat between them. Evee stiffened at first, like she might pull away, but then she didn't. She just let it be.

His fingers brushed gently against hers, a silent apology, an unspoken plea for understanding. The car hummed quietly around them, the only sound their breathing and the soft rattle of the tires against the road.

Seth's thumb moved in slow circles on the back of her hand as he spoke, his voice soft, vulnerable in a way he wasn't used to. "Evee, I know it's hard to understand. But just... know that I didn't want to make you feel like this. I never wanted you to think I was choosing to leave. I was just trying to think ahead, to keep us safe. But I don't want you to feel like you're alone in this. You're not."

Evee didn't say anything right away, but her hand relaxed under his touch, and she looked over at him, her eyes softer now, though there was still a lingering sadness there. "I just wish you didn't have to always think that way," she said quietly. "That we could just help people, no strings attached, no consequences. But I understand. I do."

Seth squeezed her hand, giving her a small smile. "You don't have to understand all of it. Just know that I'll always do my best to protect you. Even if that means making the hard decisions."

Evee gave a tiny nod, her lips curving into a faint, wistful smile in return. She wasn't entirely at peace with everything, and neither was he, but it was a start. And in that moment, that shared space between them felt like enough.

As he pulled up to her house, the familiar feeling of separation crept in. They weren't in danger anymore, not in the same way, but something else loomed—the knowledge that the night had shifted something between them. They were both more aware of the fragility of life, of the choices they made, and of the delicate balance they shared.

When the car came to a stop, Seth held her hand just a moment longer, not wanting to let go. Finally, with a quiet sigh, he released it, but not before brushing his thumb gently across her knuckles one last time.

"Call me when you get inside, okay?" he said, his voice steady but soft. "Just so I know you're safe."

Evee nodded, her expression still thoughtful. "I will. You take care of yourself, Seth."

As she opened the car door, she hesitated for just a second, her gaze lingering on him. Then, without another word, she stepped out and closed the door behind her.

Seth watched her walk up the driveway, his heart still heavy but a little lighter than before. When she reached the door and turned to wave, he gave her a small nod, a silent promise.

As the door closed behind her, he drove off into the night, the weight of the evening still with him, but the warmth of their brief connection keeping him grounded, at least for now.

As the car pulled away from Evee's house, Seth glanced in the rearview mirror one last time, catching a glimpse of her as she disappeared behind her front door. But Evee didn't immediately go inside. She stood still for a long moment on the porch, her eyes turned inward, as if the weight of the night was slowly crashing down on her.

The headlights of the car slowly faded into the distance, and for a moment, Evee was left standing there in the soft glow of the porch light, her mind whirling with the images of the gas station, the dead body, the scream. Her breath came in shallow bursts as she replayed everything. Every detail, every second of the evening. Something about it gnawed at her, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Her mind kept circling back to one thing: Why had she felt so drawn to the gas station? Why had she felt the overwhelming compulsion to stop the car and go inside? It hadn't made sense, nothing about it had. She hadn't even thought about it. Her body had simply moved on its own, like she was pulled by some invisible force.

Evee's fingers brushed against the edge of her neck, feeling the coolness of the skin there, the pulse beneath her fingertips. She closed her eyes, trying to shake off the unease. What if... what if I found the body because I was meant to? She thought.

The thought hit her like a wave, so sudden and powerful that she almost stumbled. She froze on the spot, her heart skipping a beat. The question lingered, insistent. Evee had always known there was something different about her, something that had set her apart from others.

But now, in the stillness of the night, as the memory of the dead man's body replayed in her mind, Evee couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to it.

Could I have been pulled there because of my. . . Abilities? Her hands clenched at her sides as she tried to push the thought away, tried to dismiss it as nonsense. But deep down, she knew there was something in that gas station that had been calling her — something only she had been able to hear. Maybe it wasn't just a coincidence.

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. The implications of it were too much to process all at once. She had always heard the whispers — those strange, hollow wails in the distance, the faint cries of the dead that had always seemed to follow her, even in her sleep. But she had never fully understood them. Never truly believed them. Not until now.

Evee stepped back into her house, the door clicking shut behind her, but the chill of the night and the unanswered question still lingered in her chest. She wasn't sure what to think anymore, what was real and what was just a fragment of her imagination. All she knew for sure was that something was happening to her, something she couldn't ignore. She walked into the living room and sank down onto the couch, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to steady herself. The question hung in the air, thick and unrelenting. Could it be? Could I have been called to that place because I'm a banshee?

Is it all real? Actually real? Sure she'd been told she was one, but actually believing it? Actually believing what she was? It was difficult to comprehend.

Evee pressed her palms against her face, trying to push the thought out of her head, but it wouldn't leave. She could feel the weight of it, pressing on her chest, pulling her into the mystery that had always been there, hidden just beneath the surface. The feeling of the gas station, the body, the scream... it all felt too real now. She hadn't just found a dead man. She had felt something, something in the air, something that had called to her. And now, more than ever, Evee wasn't sure whether she had found the body... or whether the body had found her.