The Witch Hunter Chronicles: Hunted
Chapter 22 - White Collar Camping

I stepped into the kitchen, with damp hair and in long-sleeved satin pjs that smelled new with a hint of mothballs. The room was large, with a long, rectangular island separating the sink and oven from the dining area. The counters were white stone with black veins, and the cabinets were a white-painted version of the wall paneling and hardwood floors. Then Marc came into view, and I stopped and stared at the domestic fantasy that I didn’t know I had until just now.

Nothing wrong with a cute boy making me dinner. The apron is a nice touch, though I’m not sure what he’s trying to protect those clothes from. They should probably just be burned.

“I stared for a while too,” Jordan said.

Jordan magically appeared next to the shiny metal drip coffee machine that matched the rest of the appliances. Or I just hadn’t noticed he’d been standing there the whole time. Definitely one of the two.

Marc closed the oven and said, “Oh hey Kenz. You like tortillas?”

“Uh, sure,” I answered. “Like, for tacos?”

“If you want a bean and rice taco, then sure,” he replied. “Because that’s about all we’ve got.”

Spread out on the island were Costco-sized sacks of rice, red beans, and cornmeal.

Lucía arrived in jeans and a sweatshirt and a towel tied around her hair. It was probably the first time I’d seen her without makeup.

I’d sell my soul for pores that small.

Lucía looked me up and down and said, “Oh good, my old pajamas fit.”

“How old were you exactly when you fit into those?” Jordan asked, making an hourglass shape with his hands when he said fit.

“Twelve probably,” I replied. I glared at Jordan on principle.

“Around there,” Lucía agreed. “Hey hermano, where’s my supper?” She walked over to inspect the boiling pots and crinkled her nose. “Oh, you stink.”

“I’m sure you did too, but Jordan and I did the gentlemanly thing and let you ladies shower first,” Marc replied.

Lucía s hands started dancing as she said, “Well you can continue being gentleman by removing this stench from my kitchen. Kenzie and I can finish up.”

Marc smirked and motioned to Jordan, “Come on bro, I’ll show you where the shower and spare clothes are.”

As they left the room, I heard Jordan saying, “I’ve got this spot in between my shoulder blades that I can never seem to reach...”

Lucía smiled at me and said, “Let’s get some coffee and see if we can salvage this meal.”

***

Jordan looked up from his bowl of peaches and burped loudly. Before I could glare at him, Lucía belched even louder.

“Nice,” Jordan said. Lucía shrugged and shoveled in another peach slice.

“Does this taste like the best meal ever to anyone else?” I asked.

Dinner was white rice with red beans, mixed with a bunch of spices and canned tomatoes, along with freshly baked tortillas. We devoured it all in silence like a swarm of hungry locust attacking a field of wheat. After that, we started a dessert of canned peaches sprinkled with sugar and another round of coffee.

“Totally,” Jordan said. “It’s probably because we burned thousands of calories walking.”

“Or because we lived through a helicopter crash,” Marc added.

“I didn’t crash!” Lucía said. Her hands began slashing at air. “It was a rough landing, sure...”

“Potato, potáto,” Jordan replied.

“And a gunfight,” I said. Everyone looked at me. “We lived through a gunfight.”

I can’t believe this all happened in one day. Manuel was killed today. They killed him this morning.

My hand started shaking so bad that I dropped my fork. The mood around the table was suddenly sober. “How long are we hiding here?”

Marc spoke first. “I’d say a few months at least. No one knows to look for us here, and we have enough food to last us through the next decade. We wait until the family regroups, then we’ll meet back up with them and plan the next step.”

“We met with the family yesterday and look what happened,” Lucía said. “We don’t even know if we have any family left.” The look in her eye was somewhere between grief and anger. “I don’t want to just sit here waiting for them to kill us.”

“No one knows we’re here hermana,” Marc answered. “We’re safe here.”

Then why did it sound like you don’t even believe that last part?

We sat in awkward silence until Jordan said, “Why do we call these canned peaches if they come out of mason jars? Seems weird, right?”

I smiled in spite of myself.

“I feel like hiding out in the middle of nowhere isn’t the right plan,” I said.

“I don’t know, Kenz,” Jordan said. “This place has food, a hot tub, canned peaches that aren’t in cans,” he looked at Marc and smiled, “beautiful scenery.” Marc’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn’t look up from his peaches. Suddenly Jordan’s smile was gone. “I get that you want payback. I do too. But it’s not like we know where their secret lair is.”

“Bro,” I replied. “Magic sword.”

His eyes lit up. “I forgot about our quest.”

“It’s been a day,” I replied.

“I thought we tabled this idea,” Marc said.

“We’re at a table,” I answered.

“It’s a round table too,” Jordan said.

“Oblong,” I amended.

“Still seems symbolic,” he replied.

“Oh, you’re doing a King Arthur thing,” I said.

Jordan sighed. Marc glared.

“Mamà felt good about the tip,” Lucia said.

“Sure, maybe it’s Durendal – which may or may not be Excalibur,” he answered. “But even if it is... who cares. It’s just a sword.”

“It’s a magic sword, hermano,” Lucìa said.

“Magic or not, I don’t see how it will help against an army of killers with guns,” Marc said.

“Honestly, I don’t either,” I said. “It just feels right and hiding here doesn’t.”

“I think we need the sword too,” Jordan said. “But I couldn’t explain why.”

“Too much American television probably,” Marc grumbled. “You think you’re a bunch of superheroes.”

“Aren’t we?” Jordan asked. “We’re literally the Knights of the Round Table.”

“Really?” Marc snorted. “And what special abilities come along with that?”

“Incredible fashion sense, stunning good looks, a rapier wit,” Jordan replied. “Honestly, I could go on all day.”

“Maldita se la miseria,” Marc said, bringing his palm to his forehead. “You’re insufferable.” Then he looked up and affixed me with his big brown eyes and my breath caught in my throat. Holding his smoldering gaze was like trying to stare at the sun. “My liege, I must advise against this course of action.”

My liege? That’s different.

“If we stay here, I can guarantee your safety. If we go after the sword...” He must have seen something in my eyes because he sighed and said, “Let’s discuss it tomorrow. I need to get some rest.”

With that, he got up and left the room. We all looked at each other uncomfortably for a moment before Jordan sighed and said, “I just realized that means he’s not going in the hot tub later.”