She heard him coming from a mile away. The sound of his motorcycle’s engine was so out of place amidst the sacred sounds of the wilderness. It was loud, mechanical, and ugly -- it made her turn her head in the direction of its path. And then, much to her dismay, the loud and clamorous sound turned a corner and headed directly toward her. Never, in all of her life, had she looked favorably upon motorcycles. She thought they were dangerous and that only those people who did not value their lives sought to use them as a regular means of transportation. 

It was hard to hide the negative judgment she felt -- more so when the bike came at a standstill not but ten feet away from her. He had waved, to the man on the bike, but she had not returned the gesture. In fact, she had not moved, not even to turn her body, for it had been sufficient to turn her head upon the pillar of her neck. It was a pretty neck, long and pale, and graceful even when mostly hidden in the high neckline of her shirt and the pulled-up collar of her jacket. 

The man made a whole spectacle of hitting the kickstand and throwing one wide leg off of the vehicle he had been straddling. And while he glanced, sideways, in her direction, he turned away to focus on his tasks. 

It did something to dispel her anxiety. The last thing she wanted was to be alone in such a remote location with a complete stranger -- especially one who was unhinged enough to ride a motorcycle. But the man hardly seemed interested in her existence, and that soothed away some of her concerns. However, she remembered that show on Ted Bundy she had seen. The sick-fuck had pretended to have some broken limb, an arm or a leg perhaps, all for the sake of appearing more sympathetic and less dangerous.

No, it was best that she didn’t drop her guard. 

She kept her body turned toward him, but specifically, toward the entrance to the trailhead. Her body language shifted, her arms came and crossed under her chest, and she made a very open show of glancing down at her watch again, making it abundantly clear that she was waiting for someone -- and that someone was expecting to find her here. 

[i]“There is a lot more to this park than this lot, you know.”[/i]

In the same way that he had gone out of his way to ignore her existence, she had very much done the same and therefore was rather caught off guard by his sudden boldness.

Arched brows, perfectly manicured, frowned. But she remembered, it was best not to be confrontational. She was alone with a strange man in the middle of an empty parking lot that led to one of the most desolate lakes in the entire state of Washington. Even if she didn’t want to, for the sake of her own safety, she would have to play nice.

“Oh yeah? I would have never guessed.”

She flashed a smile -- a friendly expression, but not too friendly. 

“I mean, I am here with all this hiking gear…” 

She wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with her line of commentary. Eva was always a little bit awkward. 

And then there was another sound, and for a moment she turned her gaze from the man kneeling not all that far from where she stood, and back to the opening drive of the parking lot. Another vehicle was coming. 

She saw the flash of red through the trees as the Mustang came at a dangerous gallop around the corner, sending gravel raining into the tree line. Her expression soured somewhat -- her eyes narrowing. With Brad’s arrival came the sound of new machinery, his car, but also music. The rich and exciting sound of it filled the small clearing. 

It was difficult to stay annoyed at him. He was so much like a young boy -- happy, excitable, and just a ray of sunshine. The complete opposite of her. He’d be good for her if she could just let him in. 

He parked and came out of his car, and she could nearly envision him as a golden retriever.

[i]“Hi!” [/i]

“Hi, Brad,” she answered, “I nearly got started without you…” Her attempt to tease sounded way more serious than it should have. She immediately regretted saying it and feared that things were starting on the wrong foot. 

[i]“Did you have breakfast?"[/i]

She shook her head.

[i]“I had some peanut butter toast. Burnt it.”[/i]

Eva laughed, she couldn’t help it -- her voice, for the first time, sounded light and pretty.

[i]“Kinda rushin’ out this mornin’. I got this Slim Jim though. Sorry, buddy.”[/i]

Brad offered half to her, but she declined with a shake of her head. She looked over her shoulder at Ethan, who appeared to still be busy fixing something in his backpack.

“I prefer for my meat to be real, thank you very much.”

[i]“We ready?” [/i]

Eva opened the back door to her silver-colored Land Cruiser -- a tank of a car, a gift from her father. It was used, but they just didn’t make the vehicle anymore. She adored it. She reached into the back seat pulled her backpack out and swung it over her shoulder. 

“I am ready,” she replied, stealing a glance at Ethan as she and Brad began their trek. 

She made sure to lock her car door.