Page 96 of You Shouldn't Have Come Here

51.

Grace

There it was. Gunslinger 66, the same gas station I had stopped at ten days prior. It was still Ope, not Open. I pulled the truck up to the side of the pump and got out of the vehicle. Once again, I was the only customer—nothing in both directions for miles and miles. I already knew it was cash only, so I started across the parking lot. I tied my long brown hair back into a low ponytail and entered the station. The door squeaked as I pulled it open. That same fan buzzed in the corner, oscillating the smell of beef jerky and gasoline throughout. The man with the lazy eye stood at the counter. I could tell he recognized me right away because he raised his brows, deepening the lines across his forehead.

“Back again, I see.” The words came out slow.

I nodded. “Can I get eighty on pump one?”

He punched a couple of keys on his register and grabbed the four twenties I held out, placing them in the drawer.

“I like the hair.” He smiled.

I was surprised he had even noticed the change. I must have been the only customer he’s had in the last ten days.

“Thanks.” I nodded, turning toward the door.

“Avery,” he called out.

The word made me freeze instantly, stopping me dead in my tracks. I swallowed hard and tightened my jaw. I couldn’t have heard that right.

“What was that?” I turned back toward him. Calvin must have knocked something loose in my head because that wasn’t possible.

The old man twisted his wiry beard. “Avery Adams.”

My shoulders tensed, and I took a deep breath.

He slid out a drawer underneath the register and flipped through a stack of papers. The old man held out his hand, extending a driver’s license. “You dropped it when you were in here. Tried to tell ya, but you sped off like a bat out of hell, so I’ve just been holding it for you. In case you came back.” He smiled, revealing cracked yellow teeth.

I closed the distance, retrieving the ID from him. “Thank you.” I smiled. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course. Safe travels,” he said with a wave of his hand.

52.

Avery

In the rearview mirror, I watched the sun go down. A ball of fire engulfed the skyline for a moment as Gunslinger 66 officially went out of business. The explosion was sudden and fiery, sending debris in all directions. Everything that was Grace Evans burned. Theblood-soakedclothing, license, credit cards, and anything else that tied me to that identity. Grace Evans was dead. Same with that poor old schmuck. They both didn’t exist anymore. I wasn’t worried about fingerprints or DNA or anything like that. Avery Adams wasn’t in the system. She was a saint, an upstanding citizen. Grace Evans was here, but Avery Adams had never been to a place like Dubois, Wyoming.

I took my eyes off the rearview mirror and focused on the winding road in front of me. My work here was complete. You might be wondering how or why. Who would do a thing like that? Let me reintroduce myself. My name is Avery Adams. I’m yournext-doorneighbor. The woman at the café. The girl who jogs in the park every day. Says hello to strangers. Holds the door open. Gives up her seat for the elderly. A volunteer for an animal shelter. I’m the girl at a bar on a Friday night and the woman in church on a Sunday morning. I’m every girl you’ve ever known and every girl you have yet to meet. My name is Avery Adams. I love meeting new people—and I love killing them too.

Day Eleven

53.

Avery

I slid the key across the counter at an EnterpriseRent-A-Car location. “Hi, I’m here to return my rental.”

The robust man collected it. He placed his thick fingers on the keyboard in front of him and asked for my name.

I smiled. “Avery Adams.”

He pecked at the keys, typing my name. “As long as there’s no damage, you’ll get your deposit back,” he saidmatter offactly. A piece of paper shot out from a printer. He slid it across the counter and asked me to sign at the bottom.

I nodded and signed. “Perfect. Have a nice day.” Turning on my heel, I pulled my luggage behind me. As I exited, I held the door for amiddle-agedman with a weak chin. He smiled and thanked me.

“Of course.”

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