Half truth

The guy walking directly in front of me was swaying on his feet, obviously drunk, between two girls who looked like they were sharing the same fate as him. As I absently listened to their conversation, I pulled out my phone and re-read my brother’s text messages. This is not a drill jumped out at me.

“Yo, what is that?” the guy in front of me said loudly. “Is that a person?”

“I don’t see anything,” one of the girls responded.

“Brent is drunk,” the other said.

“I’m drunk but I’m not crazy,” he said. “You don’t see that?”

“No, Brent,” one of them whined.

“Shut up already,” the other added, also whining.

I put my phone back in the pocket of my bag and looked around, searching for whatever it was drunk Brent was seeing that nobody else was. The streets were crowded. Students were pouring out of bars and onto the pavement, joining the herd. Brent jerked to a stop suddenly. I was staring at the back of his head and still bumped into him. The person behind me bumped into me. I opened my mouth to complain, when Brent lifted his arm up and pointed.

“There,” he shouted. “Does nobody see that?”

My gaze followed in the direction of his pointer. I stood on the tips of my toes, placing a hand against Brent’s back to steady myself. I didn’t know the guy, but I was sure he wouldn’t remember this tomorrow and I needed to see what he saw. In the midst of the crowd that had overflowed onto the street, there were two people walking in blood-red cloaks. People shouldered past them, without hesitation, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What are they doing?” I asked, forgetting my face was so close to Brent’s ear. He whipped around so quickly, I had to step back to keep from falling over.

“You see them?”

“Of course I see them.”

“Does nobody else think this is weird?” he yelled.

“Dude shut up,” some random guy said.

“They’re in a society. They’re hunting for new members,” another added.

Anticipation coiled deep in my belly. How would they choose? What society was it? Was it the one Lana had been investigating? And why did they call it hunting? It was just as Hailey had said, they did things in broad view of everyone and nobody seemed to care. They were used to it. The rest of the way home, I was all up in my thoughts, wondering what would happen if I went up to one of those people and asked questions. Maybe I’d wait until it was daylight. The crowd thi

Loud female laughter rang out on the otherwise silent street as I reached my building, and I noticed there was a group of people standing beneath the street light on the other side, at the entrance to the park. My hand reached into my purse in search of my keys as I kept my gaze on them. I could make out four guys and three women. One of the guys was letting out a cloud of smoke while passing something to the next, a joint, I presumed. The fourth guy was standing a few steps away from the rest of them, leaning against the black fence. All of the guys were wearing black and had similar builds, but I knew from the way my stomach clenched, and his height, and the way his hair was slicked back like that, I knew it was Logan, and even though I couldn’t make out his face entirely from where I was, I knew that he was staring right at me.

How had they gotten here before me? Last I saw them, they were all in the middle of a brawl at the bar. One of the women broke away from the rest of the group with the joint in her hand and walked over to him, lifting it as an offer. He shook his head. She stood closer, wrapping an arm around his neck and pressing against him. He didn’t take his eyes off mine as she did this and my heart pounded furiously at the sight. Why was he looking at me? Why was I still standing there, looking at him? My feet couldn’t seem to move for a full minute. When her hand snaked its way down his chest and onto his southern region, I forced myself to break away and practically ran into my building.

I rushed to the elevator and hit the button quickly, as if being chased, and made my way to my apartment with the same enthusiasm. Why were they hanging out across the street? Didn’t they have somewhere more . . . private they could go to? When I got to my apartment, I called out for Celia but got no response. Of course, she wasn’t home. After making sure all of the windows were closed and switching off some lights that had been left on, I went to my room and walked over to the window. My hands shook as I lifted them to the blackout curtains and began to pull them shut. I looked outside one last time, but they were all gone.