Thorn Fall by Lindsay Buroker Page B
Authors: Lindsay Buroker
happened to Zelda’s tire?”
The van was slumped to one side, the front driver-side tire blown. Or punctured? I couldn’t tell from here, but imagined it riddled with thorns. The van didn’t appear otherwise damaged though—no broken windows or gouged paint, at least not more gouged than usual. Simon jogged ahead to take a look.
“Zelda?” Alek asked.
“Van,” I said, not knowing how to explain that Simon had named his vehicle after a video game character and that this was an odd thing, or at least not a common thing.
“Zelda Van?”
“Close enough.” I trotted up to join Simon. “Thorns?”
In the summer, this parking lot would be packed, but ours was the only vehicle left in it this afternoon, so there were no witnesses who might have seen something.
“No.” Simon pointed to a big gash. “A knife or sword or something else with a blade.”
Alek nodded, as if he knew exactly what had happened. Or as if he had expected more trouble, anyway.
“It’s just one tire, right?” I asked. “We have a spare.”
“Yeah, but it’ll take a while to change, and then we’ll have to buy a regular-sized tire.”
He sighed, probably thinking of the cost. Monster hunting wasn’t turning out to be a profitable occupation. “Guess we’re not meant to explore the Cow Pies today.”
Chapter 6
We sat in the West Side Deli, Alek and I at one table, and Simon and Temi sitting at the table behind us. We had replaced the tire and were waiting for Autumn to meet us. Even though Simon had been the one texting her, somehow I owed her a sandwich with maple pepper bacon. My idea to save money by buying bread and meat at the grocery store to make our own sandwiches had been vetoed. Just as well, as we would have ended up back at the campground then, and, in case the grandma-next-door had called the police, that might not be a good idea, at least until after dark, which was still a good hour away.
Alek, sitting across from me with the tablet, prodded at the language program I had found for him, muttering words out loud in response to the prompts. I was watching and helping whenever he gave me a perplexed look, but I had my own laptop out with numerous tabs open as I alternated between researching local pictographs, hunting for a record of Temi’s sword on Earth, and poking around in the genealogical databases for Alek. Simon had his Mac open, hunting for more information on the people who had been punctured. The police report didn’t have medical details, and he hadn’t figured out how to get ahold of the hospital records. After eating half of her sandwich, Temi had propped her legs up on the seat in the booth, put her back to the wall, and hadn’t opened her eyes since. Still catching up on lost sleep, it seemed.
“Pig,” Alek announced, drawing my attention.
“What?” I had been vaguely aware that the program was running through barnyard animals, but my first thought was that he was judging me on how quickly I had wolfed down my sandwich.
He pointed at a piece of bacon poking out from between his slices of bread, smiled slightly, and said “Pig” again.
“Oh, figured it out, did you?” I hadn’t seen him smile much, so his small victory made me return the gesture.
“He’s not lamenting the lack of rabbit on the menu is he?” Simon asked, his back to me.
“No, I think he’s pleased with himself for figuring out what bacon is. That’s a gastronomical invention that came well after his time. Either that, or he’s just happy because bacon exists now.”
“Who isn’t?”
“Alek,” I said, pulling the tablet across the table and opening the drawing program. “What is your history with the elves?” I wrote the words as I asked them, switching back to Ancient Greek and inserting my best guess for the spelling of the word Eleriss had shared for his people’s name.
His gaze stayed on my face, as if he already knew what I wanted to ask, as if he had been expecting the question. Maybe he had. It
The van was slumped to one side, the front driver-side tire blown. Or punctured? I couldn’t tell from here, but imagined it riddled with thorns. The van didn’t appear otherwise damaged though—no broken windows or gouged paint, at least not more gouged than usual. Simon jogged ahead to take a look.
“Zelda?” Alek asked.
“Van,” I said, not knowing how to explain that Simon had named his vehicle after a video game character and that this was an odd thing, or at least not a common thing.
“Zelda Van?”
“Close enough.” I trotted up to join Simon. “Thorns?”
In the summer, this parking lot would be packed, but ours was the only vehicle left in it this afternoon, so there were no witnesses who might have seen something.
“No.” Simon pointed to a big gash. “A knife or sword or something else with a blade.”
Alek nodded, as if he knew exactly what had happened. Or as if he had expected more trouble, anyway.
“It’s just one tire, right?” I asked. “We have a spare.”
“Yeah, but it’ll take a while to change, and then we’ll have to buy a regular-sized tire.”
He sighed, probably thinking of the cost. Monster hunting wasn’t turning out to be a profitable occupation. “Guess we’re not meant to explore the Cow Pies today.”
Chapter 6
We sat in the West Side Deli, Alek and I at one table, and Simon and Temi sitting at the table behind us. We had replaced the tire and were waiting for Autumn to meet us. Even though Simon had been the one texting her, somehow I owed her a sandwich with maple pepper bacon. My idea to save money by buying bread and meat at the grocery store to make our own sandwiches had been vetoed. Just as well, as we would have ended up back at the campground then, and, in case the grandma-next-door had called the police, that might not be a good idea, at least until after dark, which was still a good hour away.
Alek, sitting across from me with the tablet, prodded at the language program I had found for him, muttering words out loud in response to the prompts. I was watching and helping whenever he gave me a perplexed look, but I had my own laptop out with numerous tabs open as I alternated between researching local pictographs, hunting for a record of Temi’s sword on Earth, and poking around in the genealogical databases for Alek. Simon had his Mac open, hunting for more information on the people who had been punctured. The police report didn’t have medical details, and he hadn’t figured out how to get ahold of the hospital records. After eating half of her sandwich, Temi had propped her legs up on the seat in the booth, put her back to the wall, and hadn’t opened her eyes since. Still catching up on lost sleep, it seemed.
“Pig,” Alek announced, drawing my attention.
“What?” I had been vaguely aware that the program was running through barnyard animals, but my first thought was that he was judging me on how quickly I had wolfed down my sandwich.
He pointed at a piece of bacon poking out from between his slices of bread, smiled slightly, and said “Pig” again.
“Oh, figured it out, did you?” I hadn’t seen him smile much, so his small victory made me return the gesture.
“He’s not lamenting the lack of rabbit on the menu is he?” Simon asked, his back to me.
“No, I think he’s pleased with himself for figuring out what bacon is. That’s a gastronomical invention that came well after his time. Either that, or he’s just happy because bacon exists now.”
“Who isn’t?”
“Alek,” I said, pulling the tablet across the table and opening the drawing program. “What is your history with the elves?” I wrote the words as I asked them, switching back to Ancient Greek and inserting my best guess for the spelling of the word Eleriss had shared for his people’s name.
His gaze stayed on my face, as if he already knew what I wanted to ask, as if he had been expecting the question. Maybe he had. It