Chapter Two
A Friendless Fable
(From draft 7, 4/7/2025)
Fable pressed her forehead against the cool glass of her family's golden sedan and watched as the world rushed by her. The seat next to her in the back was loaded with duffle bags, a few boxes holding most of her family's belongings, and her backpack. The rest of it was in the trunk.
That night, two years ago, had changed everything. Her family had left, taking only the essentials and buying the rest at second-hand shops. They stayed night after night in dank motels until her father purchased a new car. Still, they moved often, staying at motels, hotels, bed-and-breakfasts, hostles, and anywhere that took cash. During the warmer months, they camped, which her father preferred. He was more relaxed out in the woods.
It was a different life. A strange life… Without Uncle Peter.
Mary and Gavin tried to fill in the hole left by Peter, but they weren’t as fun and playful as he had been. They didn’t buy her extra large ice cream cones or make funny faces on roller coasters, so the camera saw that instead of a screaming face. They didn’t tell her silly spooky stories before bed that made her giggle when he did all the faces. They were not boring; they were fun too, but they were… different.
They weren't Uncle Peter.
Absentmindedly, Fable pulled out her mom’s old necklace from under her t-shirt, rubbing the gleaming stone in the center. It was a beautiful sparking green and purple gemstone delicately wrapped with silver wire. Her mother had given it to her shortly after they lost Peter, telling her that Peter had given the necklace to Mary when she was little. Fable treasured it and wore it everywhere. The idea that she might lose it if they had to make a quick exit filled her with a sick feeling, so she kept it on, even at night. Sometimes, she even wore it under her t-shirt, keeping its shining brilliance hidden from the world.
“Hey Bug,” her dad said cheerfully from the front seat.
Fable scowled. When she was younger, she loved bugs. Fable devoured books about them, learning everything she could. She adored the nickname when she was a kid, but now? Now, she had outgrown it.
“Get me some cookies—how do you call them?”
“Chocolate chip cookies?” Mary offered.
Gavin shook his head. “No—the ones with the white stuff. In the blue box.”
“Oreos,” Fable said, pulling it out from the bag and handing him two.
“Yes, Oreos.”
Fable’s parents had never taught Fable their language. Her mom claimed it was Hungarian, but Fable secretly tried to learn the language and was reasonably certain (from when she would overhear her dad speaking his native language) that it was not Hungarian.
“How much longer until we get there?” Fable asked, trying to keep her tone innocent.
“A few more hours,” Fable’s father said.
Fable cringed on the inside. She wanted desperately to be there already.
“What is the rush?” her father asked, suspicion lacing his words.
“I’m just bored,” Fable said, turning her attention to the world rushing by her.
“Ah, okay.”
It wasn’t totally a lie; Fable was bored, but what she really wanted was to pull out the small cell phone hidden in her backpack. A knot of guilt formed in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t allowed to own a phone. Technology of any kind was forbidden. Only when her mother needed a phone for work did they secure a phone temporarily. But other than that, her parents had a strict “no technology” policy.
For most of her life, the technology ban hadn’t been a problem. Fable preferred books and board games for her entertainment. The last place she lived was in a quiet neighborhood. Homeowners built small ‘lending libraries’ where anyone could take a book and put another back. It had been perfect. She didn’t need money or a library card to get books to read, and she often swapped out old books for new ones. It was at one of those book boxes that she met Anika.
Fable supposed that Anika hadn’t been her first friend. She had gone to school right up until her uncle’s death. There were kids there that she had played with, and even some she might call ‘friend.’
Anika was different.
Fable had first met Anika while poking through the book box outside Anika’s large yellow house. Anika had come out carrying more books than she could handle. Fable had been quick to help Anika bring them to the box, where she immediately loaded Fable down with three new books, and just laughed when Fable said she didn’t have that many to trade back into the box.
“My mom has me on a book-box subscription. I get new books every month.”
And just like that, they were friends. Fable would often sneak over to Anika’s house and hang out with her new friend. She started to daydream that her parents would forget that they needed to keep moving and that they would want to stay where they were for once. They had lived in that apartment complex longer than usual because her mom had gotten an excellent gig photographing a wedding. In her heart, Fable knew that it would all be over once that wedding was done. They’d move, and Fable would lose her only friend in the whole world.
She had explained this to Anika, who was horrified. “You can’t even call me from your parents’s cell phone?”
“No… they don’t have one,” Fable explained.
It had only been that morning, when, tears in her eyes, Fable had rushed to Anika’s house to say goodbye, that Anika had given Fable her old phone. Apparently, Anika begged her parents to hook it up to their phone plan, explaining that Fable’s parents didn’t even have a phone. “It took some begging, but they said yes!”
It was one of the best gifts Fable had ever received. It was so much more than a phone. It was how she would keep her best friend.
Fable wanted to text Anika right now. She wanted to tell her that she missed her already. She wanted to look at the silly pictures they had taken together. But she resisted, leaving it buried in her backpack, completely turned off so that even an emergency alert couldn’t ring.
“…There are some hiking trails nearby, and the ocean is not that far either,” her mom said, pulling Fable out of her thoughts.
“Hmm?” She hadn’t been paying attention.
“The place we’re staying,” her mother clarified.
Fable opened her eyes and looked despondently at her parents.
“We’ll have to explore them this week.” Mary smiled back at Fable. “Wouldn’t you like that?”
“I suppose so,” was all Fable said.
— — —
The small bedroom was decorated in a ‘fantasy’ style. Unicorns danced over the curtains, and someone had painted whimsical dragons on the white dresser. Artfully placed fairy tale books sat between two whimsical unicorn and dragon bookends. Even the bedspread on the bunk beds had fantasy-patterned sheets and pillows in the shape of a star and a sparkly cloud.
It looked like a kid's room.
Anika would think it’s hilarious.
Glancing over her shoulder, Fable closed the door, put her two duffel bags beside it, and pulled out her honeybee hand puppet. The small puppet was matted with crumpled wings, but Miss Bumble had been there for Fable through thick and thin. Today, Miss Bumble was hiding the phone. Fable pulled the smartphone out and put Miss Bumble back into her backpack. Heart pounding, Fable turned on her phone, listening carefully for sounds of her parents. Why did turning on a phone take so long? As soon as the log-in screen popped up, she took a video of the childish decor and then sent it to her friend.
[Well, this is my new life 🤣 Rainbows and unicorns]
[LOL🤣 What are you? 8?] Anika’s massage came in quickly, vibrating the small phone.
Fable huffed a laugh, propping herself up with the pink pillow with small alicorns flying through pink clouds. She wasn’t about to tell Anika that she would have liked the room a year ago—but thirteen—almost fourteen—was far too old for unicorns and dragons.
[I wish u were still here] buzzed a message from her friend.
Fable smiled.
[Me too]
A knock reverberated against Fable’s door. Heart pounding she shoved the forbidden device under her pillow before her dad peered into the room.
“Hey Bug. You like the room?”
Go away, she thought desperately. Instead, she shrugged. “It’s fine.”
He stepped into the room, not getting the hint. “Ah, look, books! Have you read these?”
“I don’t know. I haven't looked at them yet.”
Her father gave her an odd look, then came to sit next to her on the colorful bed. “I know moving is hard. But we are safer this way.”
Fable frowned. No matter how often she had asked, her parents never told her who they were running from. The Shadow Hunters, as Fable had personally dubbed them, frequently appeared in her nightmares. The unknown foe that was forever chasing her. The only way she ever truly escaped was to wake up—but even then, she felt hunted.
Fable felt the soft vibration of her phone getting a new message. She quickly coughed to hide the sound, hoping her father hadn’t heard.
“Are you okay?” Gavin asked, concerned.
“Oh, I’m fine… I’m just…. just tired.” She rested her head against the pillow. It smelled unfamiliar and faintly of lavender.
“Ah…” he nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment. “Your mother and I are here for you. You can talk to us.”
Fable sighed and pushed her face into her pillow. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“I can tell you are not saying something.”
Another buzz came from her phone, and Fable pushed the pillow down further, trying to make it so her father couldn’t hear it. “Nothing,” she said too quickly. “I mean… there’s nothing I’m not saying.” Inwardly, she cringed.
Her father looked at her, confused—the double negative throwing him through a loop.
“I mean,” Fable said, leaning over the pillow and trying to look casual. “I’m fine. There’s really nothing to talk about.” Now, can you please leave? She added in her head.
Her phone buzzed again, but this time it was louder. With a start, she realized that she had only managed to pull her pillow closer to her, not her phone. Half of it was sticking out from under the top of her pillow—out of her father’s sight but no longer muffled.
“What is that?” He asked, straightening up.
“Nothing,” Fable said, quickly covering the phone with her pillow.
He looked sternly at her. “Fable, what are you hiding?”
“It’s nothing, really,” she said, her heart pounding. If he found it—if he took it—that would be it. No more phone, no more Anika. She’d be alone. Again.
“Do not make me ask again.” His voice had gone lower, his thick, dark orange eyebrows pressing together. “What are you hiding from me?”
Fable felt her heart plummet into her stomach. She didn’t move.
A stormy expression settled on her father’s face as he held out his broad hand. “Give it here,” he said gruffly.
She didn’t move. She couldn’t. She felt sick.
“Now.”
Shakily, Fable withdrew the phone, but she didn’t put it in her father’s hand. His blue eyes grew round in surprise and rage as he looked at the device.
“Where did you get that?” he asked in a horse whisper, his eyes locked on the device.
Fable swallowed. “A-Anika gave it to me…”
“Those need cell phone plans! How do you have a cell phone plan?”
Fable cringed. “A-Anika's parents are letting me use theirs,” she whispered. She clutched her phone tighter to her. “I’m being really careful! I deactivated all the location tracking, and I’m not on any social media apps—I’m only in contact with Anika!”
“And what if she is working for Them?” her father snapped.
Fable cringed. “Dad, she’s fourteen. She can’t even get a job!”
“Her parents, Fable, her parents could be! Give it to me.”
“No! It’s mine—”
“Now, Fable.”
“No!” Fable jumped up and clutched her phone to her chest. “You can’t have it!”
“You have until three.”
“I’m not a child!”
“One,” her father started, standing up and straightening to his full impressive height of six foot five.
“DAD!”
“Two.”
Fable felt her rage ripping through her like electricity as she held her phone tighter.
“What’s going on in here?” her mother asked, peeking inside the room. A familiar weight pressed around her, and Fable felt her nerves calm down. Her mother took the scene in quickly, stepping inside the childish room, her eyes locked on the phone. Fable couldn’t help the gnawing guilt at the panic she saw in her mother’s brown eyes.
“Three,” Gavin concluded. “Give it here now, or you will be grounded—”
“—From what?” Fable shouted. “From life? You don’t understand! Anika is my only friend!”
“Friends come and go!” her father bellowed. “Family always looks out for each other! This,” he gestured to Fable and the phone. “Is not what family does!”
“Fable,” her mother said diplomatically, holding up her hands in a calming gesture. It only made Fable angrier.
“Those things are dangerous!” Gavin pointed to the phone, his blue eyes blazing.
“It’s not dangerous!”
“Let's all just calm down,” Mary said softly.
“They can be tracked, Fable. We could be found because of that! It is why we do not have any.”
“I already told you, I turned off the location tracking!”
“There may be other ways—I do not know! Do you want us attacked again? Was losing Peter not enough?”
The words shot through Fable’s heart, cold and hard. Fable could feel the tears rushing to her eyes, anger sparking through her. “The only person who knows I have it is Anika! I trust her!”
“I do not. She is not family.” Her father grabbed the phone out of her hands. “Don’t unpack, we will leave soon—”
“—You don’t even care!” Fable shouted, tears rushing to her eyes. She hated herself for crying. She wanted to be mad. She wanted her father to know how angry she was. A strange, oppressive feeling calmed the prickles that ran through her body. Wordlessly, Fable grabbed her backpack and shoved past her parents.
“Fable, get back here!” Her father demanded.
Fable picked up her pace, wiping her eyes as she raced for the front door. She never wanted to see them again. It wasn’t fair.
“Fable, stop!” her father shouted, sounding more desperate in his anger. “Come back here.”
“NO!” Fable swung the front door wide, bristling. “You don’t get it!” She charged outside and ran down the driveway. She was faster than her father, despite his long legs.
“Fable, stop!” Her father ordered.
Fable spun around, continuing to back away, the tears coming faster than she could control them. “You don’t know what it’s like! You don’t have any more friends to lose! Your only friend is DEAD!” Fable felt a stab of pain as her father faltered. Good, she thought bitterly. Let him hurt. “I hate moving!” Fable stormed on. “And I hate all your stupid rules! I hate not knowing anything! I hate not having any friends! And I hate—I hate—I HATE YOU!” Clutching her backpack straps hard, she spun away from her parents and ran down the street, wiping away the tears streaming down her face. She had seen the look in her father’s eyes, the fear, the worry, and his own anger, the pain… all mixed in. It haunted her as she ran down the unfamiliar street in the unfamiliar neighborhood.
Uncle Peter and Gavin had been friends since they were little—practically family. And then they had become family when Gavin married Peter’s little sister. They only became closer when Peter’s and Mary’s parents died. Fable’s birth had only drawn the small family closer together.
Peter’s death had caused a rift.
None of them had ever truly gotten over his passing. They hadn’t even been able to bury him. Fable guessed that her uncle’s body was somewhere, with the name ‘John Doe’ attached to it. Did they bury people from cold cases? She didn’t know. Not that it mattered… his body was in a different state now.
Fable squeezed her eyes tight, forcing the tears out. Guilt surged inside of her. She hadn’t meant to say any of it; it had all just spilled out of her. She hated fighting with her dad. She hated being away from her only friend in the whole world. She hated not having her uncle around anymore. She hated moving all the time. She hated all of it.
But she didn’t hate her dad… That was perhaps the hardest part. She could still see the hurt on his face when she had yelled those words at him. Fable continued walking, the crisp late February air clawing at her. She pulled her hoodie tighter around her, covering her copper hair with its hood.
— — —
When she finally returned home, the sun had set, and the quiet streets were lit brightly by plain gray lamps. To distract her from her thoughts, Fable had looked for one of the book-boxes, but none of the homes had any. When a single wandering tabby cat approached her, she sat down and stroked his orange fur as he purred and nuzzled her. Fable took her time backtracking through the neighborhood, dreading the punishment she was sure to get.
Fable turned back down her street—then froze. The hairs on the back of Fable’s neck tingled, and an uneasy feeling hung in the air. It took her a moment to realize that most of the lamps were off, casting the whole block into darkness. Only one street lamp was on. Its strange, cold blue light was harsh against the darkness.
It was the one in front of her house.
Fable approached cautiously. Her parents' car was still in the driveway. Fable slipped past it and pushed open the door, careful not to let the hinges squeak. Inside, it was even darker, and the lights weren’t working.
Her phone lay abandoned on the small dining table, its purple sparkling case glittering in the dim light. Fable quickly crossed the room, retrieving it. As she slipped it into her pocket, her eyes caught another glint in the darkened room.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
Surrounded by shattered glass lay her father’s folding knife, blood on its blade.
Gavin never went anywhere without his knife.
Slowly, the rest of the room came into focus. The small sofa was overturned, arrows and bullet holes riddled the walls, and plates were smashed across the ground. Blood was splattered over the white carpet. The smell of gunpowder, blood, and electricity filled the air.
Fable’s heart pounded in her chest as memories from two years ago flared through her mind, filling her head with explosions and screams.
The Shadow Hunters had found her family again.