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THIRTEEN

A week after the horrifying death of her father Glory had somewhat managed to work on the farm again. The boy had been helping her along as best as he could as had Blackcrow. After another day of hard work, working extra hard probably to prevent her from thinking about the fact she had lost all her family the boy told her he needed to talk.

They sat at the kitchen table. Glory had some coffee, the boy just water.

“Glory…I’ve enjoyed your company. I’ve enjoyed helping you along but the time for me to go has come,” the boy told her.

“Why? If you like it here, why not stay?”

“Right now, the mission in my life is to find fear. I will not get any peace, be truly happy until I do.”

Glory shook her head. “I just can’t believe you didn’t feel any fear when the skinwalker was trying to kill you. I will be having nightmares for years to come.”

“The skinwalker isn’t the first creature I’ve seen that would scare most people but didn’t scare me. I think it will not have been the last either. I need to go, travel again to find whatever will scare me.”

“I will miss you. Not just as an employee but also as a friend. I will forever be grateful that you saved my life.”

“Most of that gratefulness should go out to Blackcrow. If he hadn’t been carrying that bullet filled with white ash we’d both be dead.”

“Well, you were the one who fired the bullet.”

There was a knock on the door. Glory walked over to it. At the door was Blackcrow.

“Hi Glory,” he said. “Nice to see you. You look great. Kid, ready for your ride?”

The boy stood. “Let me grab my backpack.”

The boy walked out of the kitchen, leaving Glory with the conservation officer.

“How are you feeling now? Relieved you avenged your father’s death?” Glory asked Blackcrow.

“Partly. It also has taken some kind of purpose from me that now has forced me to really come to grips with his death. I feel your pain about your own father, Glory.”

Tears rolled down Glory’s face. She reached out to Blackcrow, hugging him. He hugged her back, tightly and kissed the top of her head. When they let go of each other they had a long look into each other’s eyes.

“Will you stay over for dinner? I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Glory said.

“I would love to. As soon as I drop the boy off at the Greyhound station.”

The boy walked back into the kitchen, backpack slung over his shoulder. “Ready to go!”

Glory hugged the boy. “Have a save trip. I’m not sure if I want you to succeed in your mission though. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

The boy smiled. “I’m not afraid of that.”

 

 

 

 

THE END

The Boy Without Fear will return in: THE ART OF NIGHTMARES!

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Jochem Vandersteen

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