Midnight

ONE

Dusk crept across the Willamette Valley, the final dying embers of sunlight streaking across a navy blue sky. The mountain-tops darkened to jagged silhouettes, each pine tree a tooth in the gaping maw of the Cascade range. The cold came to Oregon early this year, a vicious biting chill that clawed at your face and ears, burned in your lungs. Desiccated yellow and brown leaves drifted lazily from trees shedding in the grasp of autumn, scattering over a rural road just off the highway. It was half a mile of dirt and gravel ending in a parking lot nestled in the shadow of Mt. Pisgah, overlooking the entrance to a withering and overgrown arboretum. In fair weather and daylight, it was a popular spot with several hiking trails. In the last hour before twilight though, in the frigid air, it was lonely and quiet. Three cars sat abandoned in the gravel lot, the stillness broken only by the forlorn howl of a swelling night wind, the skittering of dead, dry leaves.

Gravel and dirt crunched noisily together, ground beneath the soles of a tawny size seven boot. A lone and unimposing figure descended the mountain trail at a casual pace, dressed to survive the cold but still striking the youthful figure of femininity. Her hips swayed side to side as she walked, strong legs carrying her at a respectable pace. She was short, curvy and fit -- fleece lined black leggings hugged her figure, and a faint aroma of gardenia perfume permeated the air around her. Her small, pale hands trembled from the cold when she reached to pluck her wireless earbuds out from beneath the rim of her beanie.

The sounds of The Weeknd were gone, and the eerie gloom of night settled in its place. Shivering fingers found the frame of her phone and pulled it into her hands, turning it over in her palm. Big, brown, doe-like eyes studied her reflection in the black mirror. Her face was soft and blushing, slightly round in shape with prominent cheekbones and full heart shaped lips. Long chestnut curls tumbled mid-way down her back beneath a black knitted cap. Beautiful by anyone's standards, but understated by pragmatism. She sighed and unlocked her phone, then began to text.

"Hey, sorry, that test took longer than I thought." Hannah texted line by line, "Soon as I get out of here, I'm going to grab some food with my Mom then I'll be home." She added a few seconds later when no reply came. She didn't have to wait long.

"Hey bb." Marcel's name was stamped at the top of the texts. He texted back-to-back with no time or syllables to spare,

"Ok."

"What test?"

"Oh ya the lab"

"W8 U did that last weekend lol"

"Ok bb"

"Bring home a taco would u thx luv u lol" His rapid-fired SMS onslaught concluded with myriad unrelated emojis.

Hannah didn't even get a chance to respond before her boyfriend closed out the conversation. It was enough to draw a roll of her eyes, a groan of exasperation. But she couldn't be too irate as, of course, there was no test, and there was no dinner date with Mom. She didn't know why she lied like this, except that she knew she lived a lie herself. Marcel seemed like the one. Hannah thought he was the man of her dreams, or she did once... but why couldn't she hold onto that feeling? The conversations between them were becoming sparse and mundane. They had nothing in common, not really. Their sex life was boring. Two people being nice was not enough reason to be together, and Hannah knew it. So she lied, stole a little more time away. Deception bleeds, and before you know it, a bruise blackened your heart and clawed tiny holes in the bastion of your compassion. She didn't love him any more, and every time she said it back she told another lie. So she left him on read, as she often did. And Marcel didn't care, as he never did.

Hannah stowed her phone into her coat pocket and retrieved in its place a set of keys, unremarkable except for the tiny brown plastic teddy bear dangling off the chain. She clicked the unlock button on her key fob, but nothing happened. Too far, she thought. She clicked it over and over, but no matter how close Hannah got -- no blinking lights. She stopped in front of her compact blue sedan, distressed to find the door still locked. "Oh, god..." Hannah groaned with anxiety as she wrestled the old-fashioned key into the lock and pulled the door open. She tried to turn the engine over, but only got a series of clicks. Hannah's heart sank and she fell back into the driver's seat of her cold, useless car with a frustrated whimper, pulling the door closed to ward off the chill a little longer.

A few minutes later, with a complete lack of options, the white glow of Hannah's phone beamed up at her. The inane and deceitful conversation between Marcel and herself stared her in the face, reminding her why she shouldn't - why she couldn't - text him to come pick her up. What's more, Marcel was undoubtedly the type of partner that would have a laugh at her expense around his friends. Hannah sighed; she only just moved here for her first year of college, but already she missed having friends of her own. Her phone battery was low, so a decision had to be made. But that just reminded her that a bigger decision had to be made. She huffed with annoyance and clicked the phone back off - for now.

Cold fingers reached into the center console of her car and retrieved a small wooden travel pipe and miniature lighter stowed inside. Hannah had always considered weed was the possible conclusion to her evening hike, a little indica hybrid to make a night with Marcel and his dumb Marvel movie references more palatable. Hannah swung the top back and exposed the pre-packed bowl, scorched the finely ground green leaf with her lighter and took a long drag, holding until her lungs burned. She exhaled in a fit of coughs as smoky apparitions drifted around her head, floating through the car interior like a mist. Relaxation struck her muscles, euphoria emboldened her spirits and simultaneously made Marcel's stupid taco request sound kind of tasty. One little hit was all the courage Hannah needed, and she lifted her phone to text Marcel once more.

"Hey Babe I--" Thok-thok-thok! A series of knocks suddenly interrupted Hannah's text, jolting her upright to see a large fist withdrawing from her window. Hannah immediately assumed she was in some kind of trouble, since the cannabis smoke lingered like a halo around her head clear as day. She reacted hastily and tucked her phone down into her pocket, then slid her pipe and lighter into the center console. The laws were still a little hazy on weed, even in Oregon, everyone was still a little paranoid about it. Hannah looked out the window but she didn't see black uniforms and flashlights - just a couple of friendly-looking faces and an utterly adorable puppy. Two men stood several feet away, the shorter of them offering a friendly wave.

Side by side, one man towered over the other. Both looked to be in their mid thirties. It was easy to guess the large man's name; it was embroidered on his black work jacket: Logan. He was burly, built like a huge goddamn spool of gyro meat. Broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, he dressed in a simple olive green henley shirt beneath his jacket, and gray denim pants over black boots. A black beanie covered his head, his hands were tucked away into his pockets. He had kind hazel eyes with crow's feet around them when he smiled, as he was now. His eyebrows and thick black beard had gone a little wild, lending him a very rugged and masculine look.

Beside the big, brawny bastard stood his shorter, leaner and charming looking friend. Messy brown hair sticking out from under a beat-up grey cap, sharp and strong features, jaw covered with a light stubble. Soft blue eyes peered out from beneath a prominent brow ridge, his cheeks dimpling with a disarming smile. He wore mud-colored hiking boots and blue denim, and one hand remained tucked into his thick, brown leather jacket while the other waved at Hannah inside her car. Dancing between his feet was an energetic puppy, wagging its tail and happily jumping towards the man's knee caps. Sleek, black and shining like a new toy, those tiny barks alone would have been enough to make Hannah open the door, and so she did.

"Hey!" Hannah greeted the men cheerfully as she climbed out of the driver's seat, quickly closing the car door behind her before any more of that weed scent followed her. "Hi!" She added excitedly with her gaze shooting down to that little wiggly black puppy.

"Oh hey darlin', sorry if we startled you -- this little fella yours?" asked the smaller man, his waving hand dropping down towards his knees to push down the yapping puppy. It carried on panting and barking, climbing his legs and nipping at his fingers.

"No...?" answered Hannah, confused in tone and expression.

"You mean he's not yours?"

"Nope." the lean man answered while wresting control of the pup, a struggle as the playful beast fought back suspiciously without a collar. He took to a kneeling position, hand pressed down over the puppy's neck to pin him to the ground. He reached up with his other hand by way of introduction, flashing that dimpled and disarming smile once more.

"Name's Chris." He offered.

"Hannah." She answered and shook his hand.

"Logan." A third deep and gravelly voice added in, politely.

"Nice to meet you guys." Hannah concluded the formalities.

"So... where'd the little pup come from?" Hannah asked the obvious question, her eyes still too fixated on the puppy with all the strange and adorable noises he made with his snout pushed into the ground.

"Well, damn thing jes' started followin' us up the mountain. Figured it belonged to someone 'ere." Chris answered,

"Saw you hangin' out in the car for a bit, thought maybe you were lookin' for 'em." he explained with a small, bemused grin creeping across his face.

Hannah blushed, acutely aware of the pervasive odor of skunky marijuana wafting from her car. What's more, the conversation was getting a little hard for her to follow. She just really, really wanted to hug that puppy and eat a taco.

"Hah, don't worry 'bout it sugar." Chris barked with laughter,

"I smoke weed. Hell, I smoke a shitload of weed. They used to call me, uhh... Dragonheart. On account that I set so much herb on fire." he bragged with a smug expression on his face.

"Nobody knows what Dragonheart is any more." Logan's gruff voice interjected,

"Wasn't even that popular of a movie when it came out. You just got some weird fuckin' friends." his mouth contorted into a grin.

"God-damn it Logan, you name me a popular fuckin' dragon if you're gonna be so damn picky." Chris snapped back.

"Those Game of Thrones dragons were popular."

"Do you know what their names were?"

"No."

"Well I can't just go around sayin', 'they called me fuckin' Game of Thrones dragons', I'm tryin' to tell a story here god-damnit! All I even remember about them dragons is they was wrapped around that blonde girl's titties. Miniature titty dragons don't really convey the point."

"Better than being ridden and fatally penetrated by Dennis Quaid."

"Would you shut the fuck up? We got a lady present 'ere." Chris ended the banter abruptly, glancing to find whether Hannah had been grievously offended.

In truth, Hannah wasn't all too experienced or tolerant of THC, and that indica hybrid had her peaking in the midst of their conversation, body melting like butter and mind wandering off on musings of dragons. It was just stupid enough to be entertaining, and even then she didn't really follow it. Before she could say anything though, Chris was excusing himself.

"Well alright if he ain't yours then we'll 'ave to take 'im somewhere." He said dispassionately but with an air of finality, that fed-up tone when someone's got a foot out the door. His grip let up on the pup, and it immediately wriggled free, letting out an excited bark.

"See ya, then." Logan nodded and followed Chris to their black Chevy truck parked several spaces away.

"Nice meeting you!" Hannah called after them politely. Chris was preoccupied emphatically gesturing to the back seat of their truck, trying to usher the pup into the open door with no luck.

Hannah flicked her phone back on to finish texting for help. The sky was getting darker now, the radiant streaks of orange giving way to scattered clouds turned smoky gray by dusk. The last hues of indigo and midnight-blue were fading into night, and the Cascades imperceptible on the horizon. As she went to reply, a message already awaited her.

Marcel's name appeared in blue,

"Yooo girl Ben & Andrew coming over 2 play COD & 420 could u bring big nacho box too thx babe." his message read.

Her eyes scanned over the text message from Marcel twice, who never bothered to ask about inviting company over and as though he'd forgotten about all her other obligations. It was hard to be completely outraged about the latter since she made it all up, but it was annoying enough before she even started to consider what a night back at her apartment would be like with Marcel and his friends having a drug-fueled video game party. Moving in with him was a temporary solution while she found a place in town, hopefully at the Alpha Phi sorority house, but Hannah was starting to suspect their relationship wouldn't survive it. College had only just begun, very handsome and very interested men flocking around her all the time. She certainly had a touch of vanity, but she wasn't vapid, and college men seemed so much more ambitious, mature.

"Hey Babe I think I left the light on in the car and ran the battery down. Could you--" Hannah stopped texting a moment and considered what would happen next. Marcel, Ben and Andrew would all stuff into his shitty twenty-year-old compact sedan to come get her. Then, no matter what happened, the next four hours would be suffocated with jokes about her incompetence and the occasional nacho box fart. Her nose crinkled at the thought, then she stuffed the phone back away, message unsent.

"Hey, you guys?" Hannah called out as she stepped away from her car. Chris had given up on teaching the pup anything and picked it up to stuff into the back seat manually. Logan was tucking a backpack into the truck bed.

"Yeah?" Chris answered first. He seemed keen to do most of the talking.

"Uh, something's wrong with my car." Hannah shrugged, "I think I left the light on or something. Won't start." she explained with a hopeful smile. "Do you have like..." Hannah's lips twisted as she tried to recall what to do. Something with red and black...

"Jumper cables?" Logan chimed in expertly.

"Yeah. That was on the tip of my tongue, I swear." Hannah flashed a sheepish grin.

"Mmmhmm," Chris sounded doubtful at first, then snorted with amusement and nodded "Sure we'd love to jump ya." he agreed, then started back towards Hannah's car, slapping Logan on the arm as he passed by. "Mind pullin' up?" Chris remarked to him casually.

Logan nodded, lumbering off to move the truck into the space next to Hannah's car. He connected the jumper cables, but the last thirty minutes of daylight were spent in a series of frustrations, a lot of head scratching and cursing. Various attempts to get the car to start all failed but nobody could tell exactly why, even though the men seemed to know what they were doing. Each person even had a turn in Hannah's driver seat, all to no avail. In the end, Logan sat in the cab of his truck staring contemptuously at Hannah's little blue sedan, and Chris was doing a middling job of restraining his profanity as he coiled the jumper cables back up. He tossed them into the cab with the restless puppy climbing up at the windows, then slammed down the hood of the truck and cursed.

"Well damn it I don't know darlin', doesn't help that it's dark as shit out here. Tell you what though, Logan here works at a garage. You can come down during the day and he'll help you out I'm sure, won't ya buddy?" Chris asked, glancing back at Logan.

"Yeah. 'Course." Logan answered without hesitation.

Hannah was too bothered to mull it over with any serious thought, just nodding in agreement and showing some genuine gratitude for the effort. "Thank you guys, so much. It was really nice of you to try and help. I will totally take you up on that." Hannah consoled the two men. Chris nodded politely, then walked around the front of the truck to talk to Logan. She couldn't hear what they said over the rumble of the engine. Hannah remembered her phone in her hand and flicked it on for a moment. Three text messages, one missed call. She checked the texts.

Marcel's name ran across the top of the screen.

"Yooo bitch we're hungry lmfao how long u gonna be at dinner 4?"

"Tell ur mom 2 wolf it down!!"

"Which one of u is the slower eater???"

Hannah nodded to herself with annoyance, as though she knew not to expect more. She pocketed her phone, shut the hood of her car and locked up the doors. Chris was still standing outside of the truck when she turned around.

"Hey! Uh, totally awkward to ask..." Hannah broke into their conversation suddenly to catch their attention.

"Would you guys mind taking me into town? If you're headed that way." She called out.

"Oh, shit yeah girl! Hop in the back if you don't mind the little mutt." Chris answered.

"Thank you so much!"

Hannah performed a little jog across the graveled parking lot while Chris climbed into the front seat. She felt a little strange leaving her car there, but it seemed like the best option for now. She would just deal with it in the morning. Hannah opened the back to the truck and immediately found herself fending off the black puppy, which wasn't as difficult as much as it was adorable. She couldn't keep herself from grinning as she backed the pup into the seat, then climbed in and shut the door behind her. It was mercifully warm, and surprisingly clean. The seats were made of leather and not one stray bit of trash rolled around, which is more than Hannah could say for her car. There was a woodsy scent like a campfire, but it's hard to say if it came from the car or the men.

"Where can we drop ya off?" Logan's rumbling voice asked.

"There's a grocery store by the South Hills if it's not too far?" Hannah implored with a sweet tone.

Logan nodded, seeming to know where she meant. Most people from there knew of it.

The truck rolled out of the parking lot and left Hannah's little blue sedan behind. Night had settled in and the truck picked up speed once they reached paved roadways shortly after leaving the parking lot. Hannah always thought dusk was pretty; but night-driving gave her anxiety, she was glad to have someone else do it. The world became a black tunnel of asphalt and shadows, barely lit under the beams of the truck's headlights and the rare passerby. Everything outside of the windows became an uninteresting, indistinct, colorless blur.

Compared with the shining, furry beacon of joy that desperately wanted to be in her lap, there was no competition for her attention. She decided that it was a Black Labrador breed, and certainly male. The fate of the little beast dominated much of the conversation between the three during the ride. Mostly it seemed they would have to drop him off at a rescue shelter since nobody could shoulder the responsibility of a dog. The obviousness of this fact became apparent about 10 minutes into the ride, when the pup started barking abruptly; before anyone could figure out what was wrong, he squatted down on the floor of the back seat.

"Oh -- ewww -- guys! He's peeing!" Hannah cried out and pulled her feet up from the floor just in-case.

"Fuck. Damn it, hold on..." Logan spat, slowing the truck and making a couple quick turns.

"Prob'ly why someone left this fuckin' thing out there. God damn leaky model." Chris chimed in.