ECI_Bo

Pff

I swiped the keycard and pocketed it before opening the door. It was a simple, two twin-bed room with tacky carpet and a sterile smell layered over years of accumulated body odor. It felt like home. First thing I did was put five twenties on the desk for housekeeping tomorrow. No one appreciates housekeeping like they should.

Pft

I dropped our luggage on the nearest bed and started pulling out essentials. Chargers for the burner phones I liked best, snacks, change of clothes. My partner in crime flopped onto the other bed and stared up at the ceiling. His outfit of the day was dress shoes, Bermuda shorts, a jersey, a yellow tie, and chopsticks through his huge mop of unkempt hair.

“What’cha want for dinner, Mud?” It was a little weird to use a shortened nickname for what was already an alias, but that extra syllable off of “Muddle” added up over time. He blinked and then looked over at me.

I gave him a tsk and a smirk. “Burgers again? Gonna need to pick up more soon, the rate you’re going through ‘em. You get washed up, I’m gonna see what’s in the vending machine.” He nodded and got up as I left.

It had been a nice night, for a California summer. A couple more days and we’d make it to the coast to get away from the worst the season had to offer.

Pft

While I walked the hotel corridor I looked over the map in my hands, trying to figure out where exactly we would go. We’d been most places of interest by now, thanks to living the nomad life for… God, how long had it been? Four years? Six? I glanced at the map and started putting together an itinerary that would gradually take us north. The Pacific Northwest was gorgeous. Just had to be careful to avoid anywhere we’d be easily recognized.

The vending machine, unsurprisingly, offered a wide variety of over-sugared garbage. The kind of trash people piled into their faces with zero thought to their own wellbeing. I reached out and touched my fingers to the glass in front of the junk food.

Pff

With the glass gone, I stuck my arm in and started collecting.

Pff. Pff pff pff, pff pff. Pff.

I fished by placing a handful of individually-packaged rice cakes into the now-empty machine. Pft pft. Getting the glass back into the right spot was tricky, but I had practice. The trick was making contact at two corners of the frame and really feeling out the space before popping the barrier back out of my pocket. Pft

As soon as I started unwrapping the gum I’d procured, I felt a sudden cold. Not sudden, exactly. It felt like I was just noticing something that had been building up. And not exactly cold, either. It was a chill on the inside, down the spine. I looked around, eyes scanning quickly, and caught a glimpse of someone moving past the end of the hall. The lights flickered, and I found myself going over all the protection and weapons I had at my disposal.

The ice machine kicking on just about sent me through the ceiling and onto the second floor. I was just glad no one was around to see my record-breaking vertical leap, or hear the accompanying manly squeal. While I caught my breath I looked around again. The lights were fine. The “dark figure” had probably just been some guest or staff making their way around.

I made my way back to our room, thinking life on the run was making me paranoid. Definitely had some warrants out at this point, possibly Federal ones, given all the trespassing, sabotage of corporations, and the theft they can never prove. It made a man jumpy. But getting spooked about ghosts? That was new.

When I opened the door to our room, I was met with an abundance of steam billowing from the bathroom. “No, too hot!” I called to him. “You’re gonna scald yourself again!” I heard the squeaky turn of a handle and sensed his gratitude.

We went through all the cleaning and setup procedures that had become hotel habits, then settled in for dinner. Pft, pft. Two fresh, hot Beyond burgers with all the trimmings. Well, all the good ones. I’d made a huge batch months ago when we’d had access to a stove.

I got that uncomfortable chill again. I tried to ignore it, until Mud raised his head and looked at the door. I turned just in time to see a deep shadow slide past. It was so dark it reminded me of when a video game just displays the color black instead of using proper lighting. The thing was gone in a second, but it left an unease in its wake.

We shared a look. I had to stifle a burst of laughter. “It’s not the damn Chupacabra! Stop saying things are the Chupacabra!”