And Stetson hadn’t been convicted of anything—at least not in a real trial. But that needed to remain a secret.
Still muttering under his breath, Weston wandered away. Only when he was out of sight and silence reigned once more over the Junkyard did Stetson resume his station next to the van. He heard movement inside and hoped Dew hadn't woken to witness any of his fight with Weston.
He waited there until the earliest rays of dawn shone through the wintry sky. Then, without a sound, he made his way to Jase's workshop—his temporary den, and rested.
7
Dew was awake long before Blythe knocked on the van door. In fact, she hadn’t slept since around midnight. Waking up in the middle of the night to watch a real-life monster transform in front of one's eyes would keep a person awake.
She shivered in the cold. The van was warmer than she'd expected, but still much colder than was comfortable. Her heavy coat was still on, and she'd left it on all night. One of the thick blankets was snuggled around her legs.
The early morning light was just bright enough for her to read the spines of the books along the van walls. S—Stetson—had everything, and this matched with her knowledge of his reading preferences. He had eclectic and wide-ranging tastes. Fiction and nonfiction, classics and newer releases. Poetry. Reference books.
She wondered if he had any books about men who transformed into beasts. Because what she’d seen last night…it should’ve been impossible.
Impossible like an invisible wall.
She’d woken up to growling and had inched to the passenger door of the van. Delicately pushing aside the red curtain, she’d peered out the window to see two animals fighting. One was a bear, and the other was some kind of big cat. It had been dark and details had been difficult to make out. But after the big cat won the fight, it had let go of the bear.
Dew shuddered, remembering the way light shone around the bear, like it was in a glowing bubble or something.
And then, the bear was gone. In his place, a naked man, his form just visible in the darkness. He’d spoken to the cat. Dew hadn’t been able to hear his words, but he’d talked like the cat could understand him. Then he’d walked away.
Over and over again for the next several hours, Dew had tried to tell herself she’d imagined the whole thing. But no amount of lying to herself could make that true.
She’d seen a bear turn into a man.
Immediately after witnessing that exchange, she’d returned to the mattress that smelled of almonds with a hint of coffee. She’d wrapped herself in blankets and replayed the entire thing in her mind. She didn’t feel as if she were in danger, but she felt confused and tired and worried about what the morning would hold.
Now, the sun had risen. She sat in the bucket seat at the front of the van and spun it to look out past the dashboard, her gaze immediately going to the place where she’d seen the bear-man-thing. She was glad to see the man hadn’t returned, but she couldn’t help the pang of disappointment she felt when the cat was nowhere in sight. She wouldn’t mind getting another look at it—from the safety of a vehicle, of course. It had been majestic and, somehow, full of a righteousness she wouldn’t normally ascribe to a wild animal.
Blythe knocked on the door, startling her. She must’ve come from the other side of the van, because Dew hadn’t seen her approach.
“Dew? Are you in here?”
“Yeah,” Dew said, unlocking the door and swinging it open. “Lost in thought, is all.”
Blythe stood before her, red hair in twin braids and a dark blue beanie covering her head. She held two plates in her mittened hands and said, “Do you mind if I come in and eat with you?”
“Of course not,” Dew said. “Welcome to not-my-home.”
Both women grinned.
“You must have a million questions,” Blythe said as she stepped into the van.
Dew gestured to the mattress, signaling they could sit there to eat. She was glad she’d thought to make the bed. Blythe passed her a plate of pancakes and sat down.
Dew lowered herself to sit next to Blythe and said, “Questions? A million? Try two million."
"I'm so sorry about that," Blythe said, cutting into her pancakes. “I was awake for ages last night, thinking I should've stuck with you longer. I kept getting up to come over here, but Jase convinced me to let you rest."
"So you and Jase..." Dew began.
"Yep. He's my one and only," Blythe said. “So—questions? What do you want to know?"
“How long have you been here?" Dew asked. "How does the wall work? How do you get food if you can't leave?"
"I've been here since July," Blythe said.
"Wow. That’s a long time."
“Jase has been here longer—going on six years."
Dew's bite of pancake turned to a rock in her throat. “That long? How is it...? I mean, wow."
Blythe nodded. "So, the wall works through witch magic. Some witches set it up to put quote-unquote bad guys away. Unfortunately, anyone who steps inside is trapped. Food is delivered once a week, on Sundays."
“And you're just okay with this?" Dew asked. She reminded herself to eat her pancakes, which were quickly getting cold.
"Not really," Blythe said. "I think a lot of the guys don’t deserve to be here at all. Or, if they did deserve it when they came in, they'd act much differently if they were out in the world now. And I guess this is the point where I have to be completely honest with you."
Dew set down her fork. Blythe’s very serious manner made Dew think she ought to prepare for big news. "Yes. Please be honest."
"I'm able to get through the barrier. Jase is, too.”
Dew's breath came out in a whoosh. "Can you teach me, too? Because I'm supposed to be at work in...I don't know what time it is, because my phone is in my car. But soon. I’m supposed to start at nine. And I’d really like to not be here, so I can be there instead."
Yes, Dew had all kinds of questions about this junkyard and the people in it—especially the man-bear she'd seen last night. But she'd happily put it out of her head if she could just get away. The safety of her home would be a fine place to have inner debates about the possibility of magic and the existence of werebears.
“Unfortunately," Blythe said, “no. It doesn't work like that. If it did, everyone would be able to leave."
Dew didn’t want to believe her, but it wasn't like she had much choice.
She should be angry with Blythe and demand to be allowed through the barrier. She wanted to kick and hit the invisible wall until it saw reason. Ridiculous, both notions, as was her brief entertainment of the idea to disguise herself as Blythe and try to trick the wall.
“Anyway," Blythe said, “I know this is going to be hard, but I’ll do whatever is necessary to make your time here easier. If you need someone to check on your house, bring you clothes, run interference with your boss—”
Dew felt her throat tighten. “My boss—my job. Wouldn't it just be better to quit entirely if I'm stuck here for eternity?"
“There's a chance to get out," Blythe said.