Trouble Follows Her Like Smoke

Evie was staying in her third motel this month, and it was only February 10th. Her money was found to be counterfeit at the first, the second had bed bugs suddenly appear in half of their rooms and had to be closed for extermination, and the third—well, she was waiting for that shoe to drop to the concrete. So far, though, nothing had made her senses for these things perk. After being as unlucky as she had become, Evie was getting pretty good at anticipating the storm before the forecast.

It was bad enough her job as a copy editor had frozen ever since she could no longer operate simple things like laptops, smartphones, and even televisions without having the devices fizzle out or suddenly go haywire. At least she hadn’t gotten hacked. Yet.

The one working object in Evie’s life was Ruby, her red VW Bug that somehow had avoided a car wreck or a malfunction for the six months Evie had been on the run. She had no idea just how the constraints of this little curse worked.

All she could remember was the vehemence as her ex-boyfriend Wes had said the words that damned her: “I hope you never have another happy day in your life.” The words had been spit at her, like he was a creature spewing poison, and she had just packed her suitcase and left. No goodbye, nothing but bad memories that still littered her dreams with their dirty pawprints.

The next morning, she had gotten fired from her corporate job for allegations of embezzlement. Her bank account had just enough to cover bail. And staying at her friend Lizzie’s house had lasted only a night—because, as Evie would learn later, the curse had conspired against her. Lizzie thought Evie had been cheating with her boyfriend based on an Instagram post that mysteriously disappeared before Evie could see the “evidence” for herself.

“Get out,” Lizzie had said, tears streaking her mascara down her face. “I never want to see you again.”

That had been just one of many endings that Evie had experienced.

The last straw had been her mother’s house, what she had once looked upon as a final refuge of sorts. The first night there, her mother nearly choked on a piece of ham at dinner. Luckily, Evie’s stepfather Terry had known the Heimlich before any more damage could be done. And Evie—she had left in the middle of the night, crying as she left behind the only life she had ever known.

A few days later, in a small-town psychic’s house just off the highway, Evie had her palm read by a woman with wire-gray hair and a burn scar, like a scythe’s blade, slashed across her right cheek. The woman just shook her head and nearly pushed Evie’s hand away as if it too would leave a burn mark that would last forever. “You need to leave,” the woman said.

“What? Why?”

“You can’t stay here,” the woman said, her voice firm. “I won’t pay the cost.”

“What are you saying?”

“You are doomed,” the psychic said, “and it’s already written across your fate.”

“I don’t understand—”

“Leave,” and this time the word was like a door slamming in Evie’s face.

Confused and scared, she slept in her car for another week as she tried to make sense of her predicament. Library books only told her so much, and even then the internet had been unreliable at her fingertips.

The last phone call she made before her cell phone died was to a TV psychic whose reputation would be on the line in a case like hers. Thankfully, all clients were anonymous. But one look from the man when they met, and she knew. He clicked his tongue, as if disappointed by something. “I would hate to be on the opposite side of whatever managed to brand you, honey.”

A quick meeting later—he was being paid the last of what little savings she had, but he still wouldn’t risk spending too much time in her proximity—and Evie learned that it was a hex, for lack of a better term. And there were only two ways to get rid of that kind of work: either by dying or breaking its power with something much stronger.

“I can refer you to some people,” he said, “free of charge.”

After the weeks she had had at that point, her eyes were spilling over with tears as if what he bestowed was a great kindness.

So it had begun. Evie took the list of names and locations, a map of the continental United States, and Ruby on the road trip of her life—to save what remained of her life, if there wasn’t anything left to salvage beyond the small disasters that had led her to this point.

In the months that followed, she adapted to life off the grid even as she watched her last few creature comforts and shreds of normalcy disappear. The curse was getting stronger with time. Even the copy editor position, what had seemed like a stroke of luck at first, soon imploded once her laptop succumbed to the weight of her misfortune.

The third motel was just off the highway on her way to Washington, the first time of what she anticipated would be many attempts to try and curb what had befallen her. After a shower—where the water ran cold halfway through—she settled back into the bed for one last decent night’s sleep before the string of days where she’d be cramped in Ruby’s backseat.

Her eyes were just ready to shut, her mind free to fall into a faraway world in her dreams—

Until the sting of smoke passed her nostrils. Immediately, she sat up and shrugged on her jeans and hoodie. She didn’t need warnings anymore with things like this. It hadn’t been a minute, and already she had her backpack slung across her shoulder.

When Evie got outside, she found that the front office was engulfed in smoke. Only minutes later did the sirens come blaring, and Evie didn’t allow herself to linger before she had seated herself in the VW and scraped out of the parking lot as if demons were ready to chase her straight to hell.

Knowing her luck, she’d be wanted for arson by the next morning.

Riding on only scant minutes of sleep, Evie drove into the night and tried not to think of how much worse a life like hers could get.

She just had to hope that there was a miracle somewhere out there for her.