Page 15 of The Night Vision
“You think there’s a way this Douchebag can turn an Ossor into something evil?” Silas asked them, looking around the room.
Merlin nodded. “If he hasn’t already,” he warned but Nelson waved his pad.
“He was spotted two days ago, not far from Burkes Garden.”
“That’s aroughbit of trail but it’s about a day's hike away from our stream and Mount Rogers!” Silas quickly calculated, both elated and in shock. The skull from the vision and the man from his dreams were real. If they moved quickly and were successful, Silas would finally be face to face with him. But if they were too late… Silas couldn’t even finish the thought, he was so scared of losing him.
Tighe.
Silas had only heard the name a few moments ago but it was already everything to him. He’d never met anyone named Tighe before, now Silas felt like he’d knownhisname from birth, as if he had learned it before his own.
“Here he is! Shelby’s reconstruction is almost identical,” Nox said as he turned his laptop so everyone could see a picture of a beautiful, strawberry blond-haired, blue-eyed man in his early-to mid thirties. He had high cheekbones and a square, dimpled chin. “It’s an article about a hiker who went missing after falling into a ravine and getting his leg trapped in the rock slide. Thankfully, he was found andcarriedto where rescuers could find him by an Amish hiker named Tighe Ossor.”
In the photo, a scruffy beard covered Tighe’s jaw and a hand was shoved into his wild, shoulder-length waves as he stared back at them in irritated bewilderment.
I love you.
Tighe Ossor might not have wanted his picture taken but Silas snatched it right into his soul, memorizing and cherishing that face. Instead of a skull or a faceless body without a name, Silas would dream of Tighe Ossor. And now that Silas had a name and a real face to work with, he wasn’t wasting another minute.
“We need to get to Mount Rogers and check that stream,” Silas said to Nelson. “He could already be there or someone else might be waiting for him, if Douchebag knows about this werewolf thing.”
“I agree!” Merlin said, rubbing his chin as he calculated. “You could make it there by…late afternoon if you leave now.”
Nox had his phone out and was typing. “I’m letting my TA know I’ll be out for the rest of the week,” he murmured as Nelson headed for the door.
“I’ll start packing. We leave in fifteen minutes.”
Silas stared after him, still stunned that they had a name but also ambivalent about how much his life was about to change. Tighe Ossor would be Silas’s fate and his future or he would spend the rest of his life mourning a man he’d never met and hunting for revenge.
“Great. I’ll get my gear,” he said with a loud gulp, then went to prepare for their trip to Mount Rogers.
Chapter Eight
This was the day!
The stream was only half a day away when Tighe set out, just after dawn. His instincts told him it was nearly time but a chance encounter with another Trail regular, called Cranky Frank was confirmation. That wasn’t his real name, obviously. Just as Tighe’s real name wasn’t Mushroom Boy.
There was a small, tight-knit community of hikers on the Trail and nicknames were assigned, not chosen. Tighe didn’t mingle too closely with that community but he enjoyed their company whenever they crossed paths on the Trail. Unlike other regulars, Tighe avoided the general stores and convenience stations near the Trail and never stayed in any of the hostels or at the campgrounds. He only stopped by ranger stations and welcome centers on rare occasions, when he needed to pass along information or say hello to a friendly warden or ranger.
“You’re Mr. Popular,” Cranky Frank said when they met near Massey Gap.
He had appeared out of the morning fog, his plumes of white hair barely contained by a tye-dyed bandana. For a moment, Tighe thought it was a leprechaun. Then, he recognised Frank’swild, unkempt hair, pink overalls, and irritated expression. He had a fondness for the wild ponies that roamed the park’s highlands and took it upon himself to make sure other hikers kept their distance and didn’t feed them.
“Are people talking about that couple I helped?” Tighe guessed but Frank shook his head.
“I don’t pay attention to any of that shit. But a lot of people are looking for you.”
That didn’t seem right to Tighe. “More than one, are you sure? I am on my way to meet somebody."
“There’s a picture of you up at the station. It’s got your real name on it and everything. The FBI says you’re missing and might be injured but you look fine to me,” Frank muttered with an offended huff.
“Why would the FBI think I was missing or injured?” Tighe wondered out loud, causing Frank to shake his head and sneer.
“They might have made that up so they can get rid of you. I wouldn’t trust the FBI and I don’t want to know what they’re up to, but I trust the other guys even less.”
“What other guys?” Tighe asked, sure that Frank was mistaken or it was somehow connected to the hikers. “Were they reporters? They think I’m Amish but that’s not true.”
“No way. These two looked like the kind of guys you’d hire if you were hiking in Fallujah. All muscles and tactical gear. I counted a dozen knives between them and I’m pretty sure one of them was hiding a takedown rifle in his backpack.”
