Creature of Unknown Origin

46

9. Mistakes Were Made

Somehow — well, largely in part thanks to our late- night travels and Spencer’s disregard of

posted speed limits — Spencer and I had managed what should’ve been an eleven -hour drive in

about nine and a half. Howie had called about six hours ago to tell us Dr. Richards had checked

into a sketchy motel off of the Ethan-Allen Highway, a place about two hours from the Canadian

border. Spencer refused to let me drive, claiming it was because I didn’t have a license in this

world, and suppose the rules of the road or his truck were different from the ones in my world?

It was a fair point, but balderdash all the same. I think he needed the distraction, though

another part of me offered up the explanation that maybe driving put Spencer in the headspace he

needed to get the job done. Not to mention the fact that, from what I could see, the cars of my

world and his truck were almost identical.

Rather than argue, I’d just settled back into my seat in the most comfortable way I could

by stealing his sweatshirt to use as a pillow. No matter how exhausted my body was, the rolling

waves in my stomach and the slight flutter of my heart prevented me from being lulled to sleep by

the darkened scenery and calm, steady motion of Spencer’s truck. I must’ve fallen asleep

eventually because the next thing I knew, Spencer was waking me gently and telling me we were

here. In the first few seconds of wakefulness and bleary- eyed vision, I hadn’t the slightest clue

what he meant by ‘here’, only that it was finally time to get out of the car and stretch my stiff

muscles.

Once the sleep had faded from my eyesight, I was able to make out a long, dated building

that was only one story high. Exterior doors led to the motel rooms, with each of the room’s large

windows curtained for the night, some dark, some with the dimmest light poking through the gap

between the curtains and windowpane, illuminating the otherwise desolate parking lot.

“Her room’s just over here, according to Howie,” Spencer grabbed a duffle bag from the

back seat and led the way while he explained, “Supposedly she left a little while ago and should

be back any time now if Howie’s last update holds true.”

I hummed in response, too afraid the jittering nerves would strangle my voice and tell

Spencer just how conflicted I was about all of this. I sucked on my bottom lip, biting down the

longer it took Spencer to pick the motel room lock.

“Quit it, you’re making me nervous.” He looked over his shoulder at me, scolding me

weakly, his eyes gleaming.