In the cabin...

The sound of gravel crunching caused Marc’s head to jerk up from a doze. His eyes darted to his boyfriend, Scott, hoping he hadn’t been caught. But Scott’s grin was in full view.

“Did you have a nice nap, Bunny?”

Marc groaned and buried his face in his hands. “How long was I out?”

“Not long. The GPS hasn’t told me to take any turns for the last five minutes.” He parked the car and turned to Marc, teasing grin still there as he patted Marc’s head. “We needed gas. Do you want anything?”

Marc shook his head, relaxing despite himself under Scott’s loving hand before peeking through his fingers. “How much farther do we have to go?”

“According to the GPS. We have another hour. I would ask my lovely navigator for a second opinion, but…”

Marc groaned again. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why this keeps happening!”

“Did you take your pill?”

“You know I did.”

Scott nodded and looked out the window. “Does this gas station look familiar?”

Marc slowly lowered his hands and looked around. The gas station was more like a gas pump. There was only one spot to fill up, and a building somewhere between a shack and a barn with windows so dusty he could barely see the neon signs promising cold drinks, hot food, and the cheapest beer and tobacco sales in the county.

The front door opened, revealing a young woman with blonde hair in a messy ponytail, a plain black baseball cap, faded blue coveralls, a red shirt, and boots more brown than green, who crossed over to them.

Scott rolled down his window, the warm smile that had made Marc fall in love already in place.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.”

“Afternoon,” the woman said as she reached for the nozzle. “Are you two the ones renting the cabin up the road?”

Marc frowned. How can a cabin an hour drive away be considered up the road?

The woman looked at him, making Marc’s frown turn into what he hoped passed as a friendly smile. He hated being around new people. There was no way to know what would offend them.

One of Marc’s hands drifted towards his backpack, but he pulled it back just in time. There was no need for him to take a pill yet. He just had to get through a few minutes of talking with a stranger, and Scott usually handled that without any prompting.

The woman didn’t look away. She held the nozzle and squinted at him for several seconds before leaning against Scott’s door and asking. “Say, aren’t you the kid that was up here last year?”

Marc froze, grateful that he had thought to grin before because he certainly couldn’t do so now, and nodded. “That’s me.”

She turned to Scott, who was already shaking his head. “That’s not me. I wasn’t there. Were you?”

“Sure was,” the woman replied as she straightened and pointed at the latch covering the gas cap. “We still have the flyers from last year in the shop. Can you push the button, sir?”

Scott did and looked at Marc. “Do you want to check it out?”

Marc bit his lip. He didn’t. He’d have been perfectly happy simply sitting in the car and waiting for Scott to get back in so they could finally reach the cabin. But he couldn’t say that to Scott.

This trip was Marc’s idea. He wanted to come here… to know what happened. Marc took a deep breath and got out of the car. The hot air hit him like a wall, but he ignored it in favor of moving his feet.

The woman watched him go, and Marc couldn’t help listening for Scott to open his door and follow him. But he didn’t, because Marc didn’t ask him to, and his doctor had spoken extensively with both of them about Marc’s boundaries and his progress.

He didn’t have to do it alone. Scott has always supported him, even when Marc didn’t want him to. But there were some things that Marc had to do on his own.

The hardest was figuring out when he wanted to ask for help. The second-hardest was forcing himself to open the door, and sigh in relief as the air-conditioned air greeted him.

There was no one inside the store. Marc didn’t know if that made him feel better. But it didn’t make him feel worse. The store was filled with the usual array of candy bars, chips, soda, and just about any kind of quick fast food item he could think of.

The air was filled with the smells of grease, bleach, and something fruity as he ventured deeper. It didn’t take long to find the bulletin board—it dominated the wall next to the counter.

Marc walked until he could read the names and stopped. There was no hard number assigned to people disappearing in the Rocky Mountains. Marc had looked it up when he was still deciding whether to make this trip, but the average was around a dozen, and four of his friends made up that number.

Four friends that he couldn’t remember. And Steven. Marc found his picture instantly. It was the only one he had on him when he woke up in a hospital. The police hadn’t given it back, and Marc was glad.

He didn’t want it. Steven’s cocky grin, dark brown eyes, and jet-black hair seemed to mock Marc as he started looking for his friend’s pictures. He couldn’t remember their names and only had vague impressions about what they were like.

It wasn’t fair.

“Why can’t I forget everything about you?” He muttered as he spotted them, all neatly lined up in a row near the top corner instead of closer to the middle like Steven’s.

If there was some system or order in place, Marc couldn’t see it. All of his friends had disappeared the same day Steven did, leaving only Marc to wake up in a hospital a few weeks later with no idea of what happened, and covered in bruises that mostly came from non-natural causes.

Someone had beaten Marc, and more than once. And he had a feeling he knew who caused most of them. He just didn’t have any way of finding out, or any desire to.

This trip wasn’t about Steven and what might have happened between them. It was about his missing friends and trying one last time to get some closure.

Sadly, staring at their photos and reading the names attached did nothing.

The first photo features Hank Grey, who looks like he should be on a football team, yet is holding a grocery bag filled with sketchpads and books while smiling shyly at the camera. Hank’s grey eyes reminded him of a cloudy day, deep and soft, but not dark enough to promise rain.

I hope he was like that in real life.

The second photo was Claire’s, all blonde hair, blue eyes, and a sultry grin. She was wearing a cheerleader outfit and holding a pair of pom-poms over her head.

Marc looked at the third, at Alex, and smiled. Alex had bright green hair, a shade below neon, and piercings in his nose, ears, brows, and lips. The picture was only a headshot, but it was clear he was wearing a brown trench coat over a white T-shirt.

He didn’t know why Alex’s picture made him smile, and the last one, Tracy’s, didn’t prompt him to lose it. Tracy proudly held a tattoo gun in one hand, grinning from ear to ear. Her hair was purple with black streaks, and her laughing green eyes screamed that she knew where to find the best drugs and booze in town. Her outfit was hidden under a thick apron, but her arms were bare, sporting dozens of trains crisscrossing from her shoulders to her fingers.

Marc couldn’t imagine getting a tattoo, even from Tracy, but he knew Scott had some on his arms. He’d like them. I wish I remembered them. He didn’t know how long he stood there.

He and time have been on-again, off-again friends ever since he woke up in the hospital. Marc counted to ten, staring at his friend's pictures, and turned around…only to jump to see the woman standing behind him with a hand raised like she meant to touch his shoulder.

The woman blinked before lowering it, with a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that. I called out to you, but I guess you didn’t hear me?”

Marc took a shaky breath and shook his head, hands instinctively covering the area above his heart as he tried to calm down. “Sorry.”

Did I really not hear her?

“No, no, I’m the one who’s sorry,” the woman said as she went behind the counter. “Your call is all gassed up, and that tall drink of water looks like he’s about ready to storm the place if you don’t skedaddle. Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Marc raised a hand in a pathetic salute before heading out the door. Scott was still sitting in the driver’s seat and grinned when he spotted him.

“How did it go? Did you remember anything? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, and no, nothing…” Marc stared at his lap before blurting. “I think I had another space-out moment, though.”

Scott reached for him, pulling him close, and stroking his hair. “It’s alright. Don’t beat yourself up. The doctor said your memories could be triggered by anything, remember?”

She also said they might never come back. Marc thought while scowling. “Can we just get to the cabin, please? The others will get there before we do at this rate.”

Scott nodded, kissed his forehead, and started the car. He turned the radio on, and the hour passed without incident.

No one else was there when they reached a three-floor cabin with a balcony and wrap-around porch with two rocking chairs and a fire pit. Marc hopped out of the car before Scott could open it for him and ran towards the trunk.

“Let’s go. Let’s go. We must claim the best room or else they’ll make you sleep on the couch!”

Scott chuckled as he grabbed Marc’s backpack. “I wouldn’t mind taking the couch…until everyone else falls asleep. Did they say when they’ll get here?”

Marc checked his phone. “It looks like Chris and Zack will be here pretty soon. And Megan said she’s dragging Emily by her hair, so they’ll probably be here in a couple of hours.”

“Is that normal?’ Scott asked as he scooped up one of the coolers and headed for the door.

Marc grabbed the other one and dashed forward so he could reach the lockbox first. “Emily is the type who can sleep through anything, even after guzzling a gallon of black coffee mixed with any energy drink she can find.”

Scott’s jaw dropped. “That’s… impressive?”

Marc grinned as he unlocked the lockbox and grabbed the key. “That’s one way of looking at it. But don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll like them.”

Scott stroked Marc’s hair with a soft smile. “I’m sure I will. The question is, will they like me?”

Marc unlocked the door and pocketed the key, sticking his tongue out at Scott’s snort. “I’m sure they will. You’ve been so amazing since we met. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Scott followed him inside and kissed his cheek when they placed the coolers on the kitchen table.

“I was just joking, Lamb. Everything is going to be ok. I promise.”

How did I get so lucky? Marc hugged him tightly, resting his head on Scott’s shoulder until the older man gently pushed him away.

“We still need to get the rest of our stuff, silly. Will they be mad if we start cooking?”

“I doubt it, but let's get our room just to be safe.” Scott’s laughed as Marc ran back to the car.