Apprehended

The clouds hung low over the evening woods, the electrically charged rumbles of thunder matching the thick stillness around me. I wandered along the side of the asphalt, hoping that I'd come across a shelter before the impending storm began. It had rained once already, though only lightly; however, it still helped to lend a damp, gray atmosphere to my surroundings.

A car or two passed by me as I plodded along, but they were few and far between. I was pretty far between towns, so this was no surprise to me. Truly, I was glad for it. Every time I heard a motor my nerves went on edge; once I even stopped and considered hiding back in the trees to avoid being seen, despite that I'd probably already been sighted. Eventually, though, I relaxed somewhat and tried to convince myself that the cars weren't after me. Therefore, I was unsuspecting when I heard the low hum of yet another vehicle approaching from behind.

I thought it was my imagination at first as the car seemed to slow as it got closer. By the time I realized it was coming to a stop next to me, it was too late.

"Hey there." I couldn't resist jumping as I spun around like a deer in the headlights. The man was in a white car with large words across the side (which I was too distracted to try to read) and a pair of red and blue lights on the top. The man himself was dressed in a light brown uniform with a badge on his chest. A police officer.

Aw, crap.

"Where're you going?" he asked casually, his voice genial.

After a second of struggling for my voice, I shrugged and replied, "Jus' walkin'."

"Okay. Where're you from? Do your parents know you're out here?"

"Uh, well…." Oh crap, oh crap. Can I lie myself out of this?

Before I could come up with an answer, he smiled knowingly at me. "Running away, huh?"

"Well, actually, I – uh…." Unable to think when my mind was in panic mode, I tried to muster up an embarrassed smile and went for some variation of the truth. "Yeah. I am."

"I tried it a few times myself, when I was younger. Everyone does it sometime or another," he said kindly, trying to get me to relate to him, I supposed.

Thunder grumbled overhead, closer than it had been before. "I'll take you to the station so we can call your parents. That way you won't get rained on, okay?" the policeman offered. I remained still, my mind blank. "C'mon, now. Hop in," he insisted.

Not really knowing what I was doing, I opened the door and climbed into the back seat. The thunk of the car door slamming closed sounded like a death sentence in my ears. Ohmigod, what the HECK am I doing?

Up in the front seat, the policeman put the car in drive and continued us along the road. Then he took the walkie-talkie from the dash and spoke into it, saying something about picking up a runaway and heading back to the station. I wasn't listening; my brain was scrambling to find a way out of this.

Y'know, I really hope this guy isn't a kidnapper or something, I thought dimly. He's got a really good disguise if he is. At least if he's a bad guy, I won't feel bad if I have to kill him to escape.

"What's your name?" he asked suddenly, breaking into my thoughts.

"Diana," I answered on accident. Crap, I should've made up something.

"Okay, then, Diana. We'll have you home in no time."

Yeah, you wish. I'd made it this long, and there was no way I was going back now.

Sitting in the back seat of a police car with the screen between myself and the officer made me feel like a criminal, like I really had been captured. It snuck the notion of oncoming punishment into my head, making it hard not to feel subdued and remorseful for a wrongdoing that didn't even exist.

C'mon, you didn't do anything wrong! I told myself rallyingly. Go down fighting, like a real bad guy!

Not now, I knew. Wait for the right chance.

We reached the next town within a few minutes, and the station shortly after. There, I followed my captor warily into the building, where he sat me down in the lobby and asked my parent's phone number.

"I dunno," I answered truthfully. I hadn't even known it before I'd run away.

"Surely you know your home phone or a cell phone we can call?" he implored. I shook my head. "Then what's your mom's last name? I'll use the phonebook."

"Um…." Think fast! Think fast! And use a fake name this time!

Smith?

Too generic. Make up something. V…Va? Var….

"Vargulf," I replied, tripping over the word slightly.

The police guy gave me a momentarily confused look. "Vargulf? Uh, okay. Let's see." He went through a door to the offices in the back, looking for a phonebook.

I sighed and stared around idly. How in the heck was I supposed to get myself out of this one? Just go with the flow for now, I thought.

But what happens when he finds out the name is fake and you're not from around here?

….I really don't know.

Frowning, I decided actually to concentrate on what I was staring blankly at. A large tack board was posted on the wall across from me, bearing several missing kid posters. The teens and children in the pictures all seemed very grim, without a smile to be seen. My eyes moved across to a board next to it, slightly smaller with the words "Unsolved Cases" written at the top. The pages there were all several years old, the areas depicted on them covering multiple surrounding states.

Hm, maybe there's a happy one here. Let's see….Ah ha ‒

Oh, shhhhooot.

My mouth slightly agape, I stared, horrified, at the photo of the bespectacled, dark-haired girl that grinned childishly out at the world from the Amber Alert poster. The date on the paper was a few years prior, and I didn't have to look at the name above it to know what it said.

Diana Ukami.

Don't go with the flow! Go anywhere but the flow! I gotta get outta here NOW before someone sees that! Struggling to regain composure and appear calm, I jerked obviously in surprise and barely suppressed a yelp when the policeman returned carrying a thick, floppy book.

"Alright, Diana, let's see what your phone number is," he said genially, sitting next to me and opening the book across his lap.

"Uh, um…where's the bathroom?" I asked quickly.

He looked up. "Oh. Down the hall and to the left. Can't miss it. Before you go, could you spell your last name for me?"

"Er…." Great, spelling. Not my strongpoint. "V…uh…A…R…G…U?" I hesitated. The man still watched me kindly. "Uh, L, F." With that I practically sprinted down the hall and into the bathroom, where I sat on the closed lid of the toilet and put my head in my hands.

Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into? He's gonna figure out I'm lying and realize who I am, then they're gonna send me back home and make this big news story out of it. And then they'll figure out I'm a werewolf and make a news story outta that….Then some underground werewolf mafia head is gonna kill me for revealing myself….Oh, God, I'm screwed. I'm so screwed.

If only I'd been in wolf form near the road! My thoughts changed direction suddenly. At least I can run away from a dogcatcher without any questions! But it's not like I can do that now….God, stupid, stupid, stupid! I growled loudly in frustration.

A knock came at the door. "Diana?"

My head shot up in alarm. Geeze, stalker much?

"You okay in there?" the policeman asked.

"Uh…yeah," I replied warily.

"Okay. Just checking. I'm having trouble finding your name in the phone book," he told me.

Oh, crap, here we go. The beginning of the end of my life. "You are?" I feigned surprise. "Maybe you're in the wrong city."

"I've looked in all of them." Dang it. "Where'd you say you were from again?"

"I didn't." Crap, how did I get out of this one? I didn't know where the heck I was, let alone any of the surrounding towns! "Uh…lemme finish in here. I'll be out in a sec."

"Sure, okay." He sounded reluctant.

Just back off, dude, I thought in mild annoyance. I'm not a damsel in that much distress.

Desperately I looked up at the ceiling and walls, searching for an escape route. There was an air vent above me, but even if I'd stood on the sink I wouldn't have been able to reach it. I scowled. Stupid shortness.

Other than that, there were no windows, tunnels, or mouse holes to offer any way out. I moaned. Oh, God, I'm screwed.

Resignedly I shuffled out of the bathroom, my head hanging. Up ahead, in the lobby, I could see the police officer still skimming through the phonebook. With a sigh, I completed the walk to my doom and sat beside the man. But before he could speak, my ears tuned into a voice over at the front desk.

"I'm here to pick someone up."

I looked up. At the desk stood a guy several years older than me, obviously old enough to drive, with shaggy black hair and a rain-spattered coat. The sudden chance to escape made my brain go on autopilot.

"Who are you here for?" the office lady asked, hands ready at the computer keyboard.

"Big brother!" I cried, running to the boy's side. "You found me!"

"Uh…." He looked down at me awkwardly, unsure. I grinned implyingly and imploringly. "Yeah, I found you," he finally said slowly. "Time to go home."

"Uh, 'kay. Guess it was kinda stupid to try to run away." I laughed a false nervous chuckle. "I bet Mom's really worried."

"If you're lucky, you may get to die a quick, painless death," he replied convincingly. Thank God I picked a decent actor.

"This is your little sister?" asked the police officer, approaching us.

"Uh, yep," the guy replied after a prompting nudge.

The officer appeared doubtful. "You don't look very much alike…."

"He's adopted," I said quickly, jabbing a thumb at the boy.

"Okay, then," the secretary said, though she seemed to be catching on to the officer's suspicion. "Just sign this short form and you're free to go."

Oh, crap, I thought and exchanged a look with the boy, my false smile faltering. After a hesitant moment, he reached forward, took the pen, and signed his name in the designated space. For an instant I began to sigh in relief; then the policeman, paranoid as ever, commented as he looked over the boy's shoulder, "I thought your last name was Vargulf."

"Well, uh, mine is," I said nervously, with no idea where I was going with this. "But…his is different 'cause…uh…my mom adopted him and…."

"So…did her step-dad!" my accomplice finished quickly. "She still has her dad's last name, but I have her step-dad's last name because because he married her mom and they adopted me."

I looked up at him. Holy crap, I might be able to get out of this.

"Well…alright then," the officer said reluctantly. With the same attitude, the secretary took the form and laid it with some other papers to be filed.

"So we can go?" I asked hopefully.

"Yes, I suppose so," he replied with a sigh.

I grinned a wide, impulsive grin that spanned the length of my relief. "Yes," I hissed, then grabbed hold of the boy's arm with a happy, "C'mon, big brother, let's go!"

Without a backwards glance, I dragged him out the door and into the rain-spattered night, hardly giving him a chance to struggle. Once beneath the light rumbles and projectile water, I turned to my savior. "Where's your car?"

"Do you need me to take you home, too?" he asked, a little exasperated.

"No," I said, trying to get the echoes of the word "home" out of my head. "Just take me a few blocks away. I can make it on my own from there."

"Which direction?" he asked as we ducked into a car a few spaces away from the front of the building.

I fell into the passenger's seat and shook the rain from my hair breathlessly. "Any."

He put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot. A little ways along the road, he said, "That was a pretty big stunt you pulled me into. How'd you get caught?"

"Too close to the road," I said simply. "Did you sign a fake name?"

"Yeah. I don't want any more questions than what's needed." There was a momentary silent pause. "So, where are you from?" he asked.

"Nowhere near here," I told him vaguely.

"Then how'd you get here?"

"You prob'ly don't wanna know."

He didn't seem satisfied with that answer, but he didn't press. After another moment, he asked, "So do you have somewhere to stay?"

"Yeah. I'm good." I'd probably find a park or a good box or something. I didn't need charity.

"Why can't I just take you there instead of leaving you in the rain?"

Dang it. Here we go again, the efforts of a good Samaritan wasted on a person who fears them. After a second of telltale hesitation, I answered, "Because it would look weird if I came up in a strange car. I don't like questions, either," I added wryly.

"Right," he replied sarcastically. Another moment passed. "I guess the guy I was actually going to pick up will have to wait until they let him out."

I giggled. "Oops."

He chuckled. Then, with a sigh, he asked, "There's no where you want me to take you?"

"No," I answered sternly. Man, he was persistent.

"I'll just let you out here, then." He pulled the car over to the side of the road, out of the way of absent traffic.

"Alright," I agreed and got out of the car into the steady rain. Before I closed the door, however, I looked up at the building I stood before. It was a homeless shelter – a good meal and a warm place to stay for the night.

I looked accusingly back at my savior. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

He just smiled, pulled the door closed, and drove on down the road.

Scowling after him, I thought, Stupid Samaritans ‒ despite the spark of gratitude I held.