From: The Fate of the Fallen by AE Winstead
FIVE
Kentucky Bend, Kentucky
Present Day
Camryn Martin cursed the black clouds overhead as she pulled her Ford truck out of the parking lot of Hayden County High School. Even with the prospect of Spring Break in front of her, Camryn couldn’t suppress the growing sense of dread swelling in her stomach. The rain had been steady for weeks with no sign of stopping. Coming from a family of farmers, Camryn understood the importance of rain, but she’d seen enough moldy cotton and waterlogged cornfields in her seventeen years to understand what would happen if these storms didn’t let up. It might be a bust already, she thought as she drove past a pond that, two months ago, had been a field of soybeans.
But it wasn’t just the rain getting to her. Camryn never lacked for something to obsessively worry about: her fast-approaching graduation, the growing stack of college applications on her dresser, the thousands of different ways she might die on any given day. But something else nagged at her. She could barely discern it from the usual jumble of knots in her stomach, but it was there—a nervous panic, like the time she’d dreamt of coming to the end of the school year only to realize she’d forgotten to attend an entire class for the whole year!
Too many things in her life were changing. And she hated change. Transition from junior high to high school had been hard enough, but at least she’d still had the same classmates, terrible as they were, and she’d remained in the town she’d always known. School may have been torture for her for the past four years, but at least she’d known what to expect. College would be a whole new set of unknown horrors: unknown people, unknown professors, an unknown town, new, unknown ways to die.
As she turned into her employee parking space of Granny’s General Store in town, she tamped down the panic rising in her with a breathing technique she’d learned during her few months of therapy when she was a kid. She sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then slowly exhaled, imagining all her fears, both old and new, being carried away in the hiss of air between her lips.
Her mother’s words echoed in her ears, “Life carries enough worries without you conjuring up more of your own.” Camryn wished she could be more like her mother, always so calm and steady. Nothing seemed to ruffle Lydia Martin, and no matter the situation, she always knew what to do. Camryn had always gone to her mother with her problems, and even though Lydia didn’t seem to mind, Camryn did. She would be an adult soon. She didn’t want to keep running to her mother every time something scared her. Time to start figuring things out on my own.
The bell dinged behind her as she stepped out of the damp, gray day and into the time warp that was Granny’s General Store. Rumor had it, Granny’s hadn’t changed a bit in the past forty years, but then again, neither had the rest of the town. Kentucky Bend was located in an almost complete bend of the Mississippi River. Surrounded on three sides by water and its proclivity to flooding didn’t allow for much expansion, so there wasn’t much of a draw for outsiders to migrate to their little town. The residents of Kentucky Bend were the descendants of the farmers who had settled there in the twenties and had been too dumb to leave.
Inside the General Store, most of the paint had chipped off the brick walls, and dust motes floated thick in the air. The racks of goods and display cases had to be the same ones used when the store opened in 1942, and Camryn often wondered if some of the goods were the same, too. She eyed the malted milk. Does anyone even use that anymore?
Granny Newman, the small, hunched woman behind the counter, had to be in her eighties, but still ran the General store almost single handedly. She only hired the two or three part-timers like Camryn to make special deliveries to some of the elderly of the community—a group of which she did not consider herself to be a part. Granny had never had any children of her own, so she wasn’t technically anyone’s actual Granny, but no one knew her by any other name.
Camryn had arrived a few minutes before her shift, so she picked up a newspaper from the rack, scanned the front page, and instantly regretted it. The headlines only reminded her that while her little corner of the world was experiencing record rainfall, other places were enduring brush fires and volcanoes. Severe drought had dried up water reservoirs in South America and countries were threatening war over something as seemingly abundant as water. Another earthquake had hit in Mexico, leaving their capital city decimated and sending a renewed sense of dread into Camryn’s gut. She sighed heavily as if these issues were somehow her own problems to solve, rubbed the back of her neck, and tossed the newspaper onto the rack. Deliveries first, global warming later.
The wood floor creaked under her wet boots as she grabbed her smock from the hook and looked at the delivery list for the afternoon. She released an audible groan at the last name on the list.
Kennedy.
As in Kyle Kennedy, the most insufferable brute at Hayden County High. His witty charm and killer cheekbones made all the girls at school swoon. The blue eyes and blonde hair didn’t hurt, either. Kyle was one of those disgusting people who was just good at everything. He’d made All-State in football the past two years but had injured his shoulder in the state championships a few months back. Hayden County had lost the game and Kyle had lost his scholarship. It was a real tragedy.
Kyle had moved to Kentucky Bend to live with his grandparents in the fifth grade—about the same time Camryn’s social life had taken a nosedive—and had joined in the extracurricular activity of ruining her life. His grandparents were nice enough, although they seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that their grandson was a total perv.
She did her best to avoid him at school, which proved to be difficult since they had English Lit together and he always asked to borrow her homework. She’d never let him, but that didn’t stop him from asking…Every. Single. Day.
But it wasn’t just his obnoxious homework habits that bothered her. It was the way he looked at her like he wanted to eat her, and that he went out of his way to touch her at every chance—it irked her to no end.
It might’ve been nice coming from another boy—one she thought might actually like her—but she knew Kyle wasn’t really interested in her. She wasn’t exactly his type.
Camryn considered herself pretty average in most ways, with thin, sandy-blonde hair and unassuming, amber eyes. The complete opposite of Kyle’s girlfriend, Brooke Mason. With her model-thin frame, perfect skin, and perfectly straight, shining-black hair, Brooke stood out like a queen among her peasants. No way was Kyle really interested in Camryn. Not with a girlfriend like Brooke.
It was Brooke, Camryn assumed, who instigated Kyle’s daily harassment. Brooke had hated Camryn since middle school. She’d gone from throwing gum in Camryn’s hair and tripping her in the halls to stealing her homework and ripping it up right in front of Camryn’s face. As they’d gotten older, Brooke’s attacks had become more calculated. She used her popularity to blacklist Camryn from parties and spread vicious rumors about her, ensuring that everyone treat Camryn like a pariah. She couldn’t help but wonder if Brooke was the mastermind behind whatever mind game Kyle was playing with her now.
He’s just a stupid jock, Camryn told herself as she loaded down the back of her truck with the items from the orders. Maybe he won’t even be there. Camryn smiled, proud of herself for “thinking positive thoughts,” another nugget of her mother’s steady advice.
At Camryn’s first stop of the afternoon, she had a nice chat with Mr. West, who never failed to have a new ailment to complain about. Camryn nodded along as he told her all about his gout and the incompetence of his new doctor.
At her next stop, Camryn found Mrs. Lewis fretting over her beloved cat who appeared to Camryn to be struggling to hack up a hair ball. But Mrs. Lewis was certain the animal was in labor. Camryn finally had to phone the vet in for an emergency house call before the lady would let her leave.
As Camryn pulled into the long gravel driveway of her last delivery of the evening, the heat blasting from the air vents did little to dispel the chill that raced over her body.
It was getting late. The grayness of the sky melted into a deep purple, and the rain pelted down on the roof of her truck. The knot in her stomach twisted again at the sight of the jacked-up Chevy truck, shining black in the glow of the barn light like a bad omen.
Camryn glanced around for Mr. or Mrs. Kennedy, but they were nowhere to be found. Kyle was there, though, standing in the wide-open door of the barn, grinning his stellar grin that drove the rest of the girls at school crazy.
Camryn’s palms started to sweat. Calm down, you idiot. This is how he wants you to feel.
She hesitated only a moment before pulling into the barn, but decided unloading would go faster out from under this downpour. She pulled through the open doors, and the sudden absence of rain against glass was deafening. The wipers squeaked in protest, making Camryn flinch. She scrambled to turn them off.
Kyle leaned against a barn post, arms crossed, waiting for her. That alone made the massive barn feel ten sizes too small. He’d changed out of his school polo into a tight white t-shirt that clung to every muscle in his thick arms. Sucking in a breath, Camryn hopped out of the truck and slammed the door.
“Why don’t you pick up these deliveries yourself, Kyle? It’s pretty bad that a girl has to do your chores for you.” She hoped she sounded annoyed, but she couldn’t be sure.
He rubbed his right shoulder. “Bad shoulder, you know. Besides, if I did that, then you might not come visit me anymore.”
A shiver ran up her spine, but she didn’t blink. “Well, you’re not wrong about that.”
She tried not to think about him watching her as she moved around the truck and opened the tailgate. This was going to take a while, but she would keel over in a pile of cow manure before she’d ever ask him for help.
He walked over and placed his arms on the side of the truck bed and rested his chin on his hands, watching her unload the few bags of grain and gallons of pesticide. She didn’t bother putting them away. Surely he could manage that himself.
By the time she finished, beads of sweat rolled down her face, despite the chilly air. As she closed the tailgate and moved around the side of the truck, her eyes landed on Kyle, leaning on the driver’s door, grinning again.
Camryn knew this game, but she wasn’t playing. Not this time. She forced herself not to look away from him, though it made her sweat even more profusely than unloading the truck. But she didn’t move any closer, either. After an agonizing moment of contemplating what her next move would be, Kyle finally stepped aside and opened the door for her. She willed herself to walk slowly and climb into the cab like a normal person instead of running and jumping in head first. She tried to pull the door shut behind her, but he still stood in the way.
“Wait,” he said. “I’m having a party Sunday night to kick off the break. You should come.” Then, as if realizing that might actually sound like a nice thing to say, he added, “It’s not like you have anything better to do.”
“Thanks,” Camryn answered in a tone as dry as the Sahara, “but I wouldn’t be caught dead at your party.”
Kyle feigned a hurt expression. “Now that’s not very nice. No wonder you don’t have any friends.”
“Goodbye, Kyle,” she said, trying again to shut the door.
“Brooke won’t be there,” he shrugged, “just so you know.”
Camryn wrinkled her forehead. Why would his girlfriend not be at his party?
Kyle continued to stare at her with his wide grin. “She has a cheer camp or something.”
“During spring break?” Camryn wasn’t buying that.
“Hey, it’s competition season,” he said in a perfect Brooke impression. “But whatever. Come. Don’t come. I don’t really care. I was just trying to be nice.” He finally stepped away, allowing her to close the door between them.
Right. Nice.