Talk to Stuart on the Fictionville Weblog
Even as he spoke, he knew he was lying. There was no way in hell he was coming back to this place. He smiled at the lady behind the counter. She smiled back, but he could see something behind her grin. It was the same look as the fellow at the garage.where he had left his bike, rear wheel bearings frozen tight. His parts would come in by bus tomorrow, which meant he was stuck here in the Maine woods for another day. Jim Jordan had not planned to stop here. The howling rear end of his beloved Vintage BMW had forced him to limp into town and here he was. He had nowhere to be, but he wished he were anywhere but here. He had felt something wasn’t quite right even before he had spoken to anyone. Then came the conversation with Bob, at the garage. Bob talked a good game and let him stash his bike while his parts made their way to him. But Bob’s words weren’t the problem. Bob had something else going on. Bob, the lady at the general store, even the kid cutting grass down the street, had that same look in their eyes. The more he thought about it, the more he believed he knew. They looked…hungry.
Tom Baxter didn’t know a thing about any of that.Tom only knew a beautiful bike when he saw it. He couldn’t believe he had stumbled on such a find here in the backwoods. Passing through the little town, he had spotted the FOR SALE sign and had to check it out.The man at the garage said his name was Bob. Said the previous owner didn’t have any more use for the bike and had left it to cover his bill. Tom knew he would buy the bike and was happy with his good fortune. Bob kept on talking, joined now by the little lady from the General store. They were watching him going over the bike. They seemed a little strange but he was too excited to notice. At first.But know it was starting to bug him a bit. He studied them from the corner of his eye as he kneeled down. They followed his every move as he checked out the bike. Strange as it seemed, they looked….hungry.