good mothers typically tell their kids to not talk to strangers, much less pick them up at gas stations
The cold metal of the petrol pump stung her fingers as she filled up her mother's van. It was only October, yet it already felt like the dead of winter. Nestled in between tall buildings, the wind nipped at her cheeks and fingertips as she stood at the station, tapping her foot in an attempt to get the blood pumping and warm her up. It did little to help.
Too cold for October.
Sigi cursed to herself as the wind whipped up again. She despised running errands for her mother, who seemed to care not for her daughter's safety this late into the evening. It was lonely and she hated the way the buildings cast their shadows on the pavement.
Her mother ran a small boarding home in an old farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. Most of the time, the numerous rooms were empty, with cobwebs growing larger and larger in the dusty corners, but sometimes they had tenant or two stay for a few months before moving on to their next location. As an extra service, her mother had Sigi take their tenants to their next destination in their van so long as it was close enough. She had just returned from such a trip and was now delaying her drive back home by twiddling her thumbs at this petrol station.
Her heart stopped just as she put the nozzle back into place. Sigi felt the cold, sharp edge of a knife pressed into the back of her neck followed by a warm breath tickling her stray hairs. It was sticky and sent a shiver down her spine.
"You will help us," a hollow, almost emotionless voice just a few steps behind her demanded. Sigi strained her eyes to see if the attendant was paying any attention, but he was preoccupied with the tape recorder in his hands. She'd die here tonight, she was certain of it. Whatever they wanted, she wouldn't be able to provide. Who's idea was it anyway to rob some teenager in the middle of the night?
She would die tonight and her mother would finally feel bad for being so inattentive and sending her out on so many late-night errands.
Whoever was holding the knife to her neck used their free hand to turn her around to face them. It was a pair of men who looked ragged and weary, with clothes that didn't seem to fit the year they were in. They almost looked like stray cats, starved with hollow cheeks and tired eyes. Had one not been pointing a knife at her, she would've felt pity.
Instead, all she felt was fear of what was to become of her.
The one standing a few paces away motioned at her mother's van, "this is what you people use to go places, correct?" His skin was as white as paper, with a mess of equally white hair atop his head and his voice chilled her. If he didn't look so rough, Sigi would have avoided his glance. In the dim light provided by the station's fluorescents, he looked almost like a ghost— she was convinced her hand would pass right through him.
"I only give rides to tenants and people who don't point knives at me, if what you're asking for is a ride somewhere." She didn't know what to tell them, nobody had ever prepared her for a situation like this. Sigi played adult every now and then, but she was nowhere near equipped enough to handle this.
The pale man pressed his lips together and tilted his head in the direction of the man with the knife. He slowly lowered the blade and returned it to the safety of his belt. Strange men. Sigi could see desperation in their eyes, but she wasn't sure if it was a kind of desperation she could trust.
"Very well," the man took a step forward. He was a tall man, much taller than the roof of the van. "We can't expect charity when we have knives pointed at each other, can we?" He flashed a smile that she supposed should be comforting, but it made him look like a shark instead.
Sigi bit her lips, "fine. I'm only helping because you look desperate for help." She turned and threw the rear door open, "get in and I'll figure something out." Several years later, she would regret this decision. How stupid children were!
The two men hesitated before climbing into the car, as if it were some sort of beast that would eat them alive. Who were they to not know what a car was? They even looked awkward, sitting on the benches in the back. The other man was considerably shorter than the pale man and considerably younger, too. He couldn't be more than a handful of years older than Sigi herself. Almost as if he were a shadow of the taller man, he wore all black.
Curious.
"So," she started, turning the engine over, "where are we going?"
"You are taking us back to my fortress." The pale one pretended not to be startled by the sound of the engine.
Sigi chuckled, "okay, and where is that?"
"Argenta."
She had never heard of the place. "Where is that, Spain?" The girl tried picturing it in her head, though it sounded awfully familiar, "it's too late to drive too far. I'm taking you to my mother's. She can figure out what to do." She gave one last glance at the ragged men behind her, "it looks like you haven't slept in days. We have plenty of empty beds."
"We do not need any pity," the other spat.
The girl shrugged and pulled out of the station, ignoring the man's protest and turning the dial on the radio. One of the only benefits of doing these late-night runs for her mother was the radio. The mindless banter of the hosts made it easier for her to bear with the lonely hours of driving.
It was a few moments before she heard the two in the back shift around and heard boots against the metal floors of the van.
"What is that noise?" The man in Black poked his head the front of the van, scowling.
"The radio?" Sigi turned the volume up slightly and pointed to a speaker as if to show him where the noise was coming from. The station had just switched over to some American song as she motioned towards it. He frowned and looked at her radio as if he would want to tear it apart with the knife he kept at his belt, but said nothing; his gaze kept passing from her hands on the wheel to the trees passing by, as if he were studying how this machine worked.
Soon enough, she turned onto the winding dirt road that led to the lonely farmhouse. It was nestled in the middle of an old forest, several miles from town, but close enough to where it wasn't a hassle if grocery shopping needed to be done. Sigi and her mother were rather self-sufficient, though. For as long as she could remember, they always had a handful of chickens and a large garden in the backyard where herbs and vegetables grew. If a tenant was short on their rent or simply needed something to do, her mother would put them to work. There was always something to do, but with business being slow, the yard hadn't been kept as neat anymore.
Sigi's mother, Thea, was a waif of a woman with arms too long for her body and with a tangled mop of frizzy, blonde hair atop her head. The woman denied that there were indeed strands of grey mixed in with the blonde, whether from age or stress, Sigi didn't know. The girl would never admit it, but she was glad to know that she took after She was sitting in their kitchen when they walked in, a burning cigarette in one hand and a well-worn paperback in the other.
"Sieghild," her mother greeted her by pushing a cold plate of dinner her way and lighting another cigarette. Sigi popped a potato into her mouth, tossing her keys and her purse onto the old tile.
She realized she had no idea how she was going to explain the two men who were standing awkwardly in the doorway. Did they even have money? Sigi wasn't keen on them staying, but she had no idea what to do with them. They had threatened her with a knife, so she felt they wouldn't be too pleased with the idea of being thrown back out into the streets.
"Oh, this is—"
The pale man pushed past her, a smile on his face. Sigi would later learn that any time he smiled, it was never kind. "Forgive us for the intrusion so late into the evening. My partner and I are on our way back home, but if you wouldn't mind putting up with us for the evening, it would be much appreciated." He reached into a pocket somewhere, pulling out a wad of cash. She was a fool to take him for an idiot who had no idea how the world worked. He had played her like a fiddle.
Her mother put her book down and took the wad of cash, taking a few bills and handing the rest back to him, "we've got plenty of rooms available. If you're hungry, there's leftovers in the refrigerator that I can reheat." Thea looked the two over as she tossed her cigarette into the ashtray across the table. "You two look like you climbed out from somebody's dirt cellar and I don't know what the hell era those clothes are from."
The pale man kept his gaze focused on her mother.
"Sigi can get you something to wear after she shows you to your rooms." The girl looked back at her mother, hoping that somewhere she was joking, but she wasn't. With a groan, she grabbed a ring of keys from a hook and led the men to the rooms that were furthest away from her own.
They said nothing as she handed them their respective keys, either they were tired or they now knew of her suspicions. Who pretended to know nothing about technology only to turn around and hand such a large amount of cash to her mother. Sigi didn't even want to know how they had come across it, she knew something was awry.
Still, they slept like people as she stuck her head in their doors, dropping off clean clothing at her mother's request. She stared for a moment, as if to make sure they were truly sleeping, but as soon as one shifted under the covers, she darted away from the door and retreaded back to her room, set on discovering what the strange place that the ghostly man had mentioned was.
