“What did you say?”

I paused, my card already jammed into the receptacle and deducting $5.29 from my bank account. “What?”

The clerk stared at me, his green eyes narrowed. I drew half a step back almost unconsciously. “Uh. I asked if I could have my drink cup. You guys keep making us wait and it’s kind of annoying.”

The man stared at me, his lips pressed into a thin line. “What are you doing?”

All right, the guy was clearly crazy. I tore my debit card free, shoving it back into the holder permanently resting in my pocket. “I’m trying to get a Big Mac. What’s your problem?”

“Are you insane?” he hissed, leaning forward across the counter. “What are you doing?”

“Greg?” someone called from across the store. A manager, judging by the color of their uniform. Their voice was carefully cheerful. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing! Just helping this gentleman out,” Greg said, his face snapping back to carefully neutral as he smiled at me. A plastic cup was shoved into my hands, along with the paper slip of my receipt. “Look - don’t be an idiot,” he said, his voice dropping low enough I had to lean in to hear him. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, but you can’t walk in here talking gibberish. Leave me alone.”

I stared at him, my mind racing, but the customers behind me were already pushing forward. I stepped back to join the others waiting for their food, my mind churning.

I had a bit of a gift. Well, that’s how I liked to think about it. It had taken a few years to figure out - all languages sounded exactly the same to me. No matter if I was speaking to someone blabbering on in French or chattering in Italian, it all came across as plain old English.

My parents had been freaked out, understandably. It had taken a bit of doing to convince them I wasn’t just crazy. And as soon as we’d pieced together what was going on, we’d begun hiding. It wasn’t as though I could suddenly start spouting off Spanish and German, after all. We couldn’t even just leave copies of Rosetta Stone lying around meaningfully. The instant someone I actually knew called me on it, the secret would be up. I kind of valued living a normal life, too much to allow something like that to happen.

Tray in hand and my mediocre food steaming, I filed back to my seat. I could feel Greg’s eyes on me the whole way - staring.

What was his problem? Had I stuttered? And what had he meant, gibberish? Maybe he spoke a different language, sure, but why would that be a problem? He should be happy that I’d spoken Polish or Swahili or who-gives-a-fuck. Maybe a bit surprised, but not angry. His reaction wasn’t normal at all.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Normally I would have lingered, taking my time in eating. With the feeling of Clerk Asshat’s eyes on the back of my neck, I just wanted to leave. I shoveled my value meal down as quickly as I could, hardly tasting it. My phone lit up with notifications, friends and family blabbering away, all wanting to know where I was. When I’d be finished with the day’s chores. Could I pick up this grocery list for them, or finish that errand?

I ignored all of them. The wrapper crumpled instantly in my hand as I pushed myself upright, dumping the whole lot of it in the trash.

The guy wasn’t there. A bit of the tension slipped out of my shoulders as I saw his station replaced by a tiny, grinning brunette. Good. Maybe his manager had finally taken him down a notch.

The lights on my station wagon blinked across the parking lot at me as I stepped out of the store. The cold air snapped me awake, back to reality in an instant. I was letting that guy creep me out for no reason. He was just a jerk, that was all - trapped in his minimum wage job. Probably just a crazy, when I thought about it. He was probably just-

I yelped, eyes widening as fingers buried themselves in my hair, pulling painfully. Someone had me. There was something cold at my throat - cold and sharp.

“Ok, asshole,” Greg hissed in my ear, his voice wild. “We’re going to go for a walk.”

“What the fuck are you-”

“Shut up.”

The blade dug into my neck. I could feel a hot line of blood dripping down my skin. My mind raced - this was insane. He really was crazy. A lunatic. He was-

There was nothing I could do to fight him as he turned me, forcing me towards the back of the store. A dingy, beat-up station wagon waited in employee parking, the lot unlit and dismally dark. I scanned the lot even still, ready to bellow for help at a moment’s notice.

It was useless. There was no one around. No one was going to hear.

He slammed me into the back of his car, my face pressed painfully against the glass.

“How stupid do you think I am?” he spat.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I cried, shaking.

“What, you think you’re being subtle? You’ll just walk in, talking the Old Tongue like you were born to it, and I’ll roll over for you?”

“Look, dude, there’s been some mistake,” I moaned. “It’s-It’s just something that I can do, all right? It’s not-”

“Right,” he said with a laugh, his fingers still pulling painfully at my hair. “Like I’m going to believe that.”

“I speak tongues, all right?” I said, craning my head until I could look at him. “That’s all. I don’t know what you heard. All I know is-”

“How long until they get here?”

I blinked. “What?”

“I’m not stupid,” he spat. “I’m not going to sit idly until they come to finish the job. How long until the rest of them show up?”

“The rest of who?” I said, trying desperately to keep from crying.

“You know damn well who-” he said, but stopped abruptly.

I blinked.

Somewhere in the distance, sirens were approaching.

My heart leapt. Police. Yes. Someone must have seen him, someone must have called the cops. I was saved. He’d-

He let go of my hair in an instant, leaping away. His car abandoned, he vanished into the underbrush of the woods behind the McDonald’s. I fell in a crumpled heap, my heart still pounding in my ears.

Tires screeched as the cop car pulled up moments later, a pair of officers piling out.

“Sir! Sir, are you all right?” one yelled, racing over to me. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“There was- a man,” I said, glancing back at the woods. ‘H-He had a knife. He was crazy. Thought I was speaking some funny language or something.”

“Why would he think that?” the other said, his brow furrowing.

“I-I don’t know,” I said, instinctively clamping down. The cops paused, staring at me.

“What, that’s it?” the first said.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, unable to meet their eyes. My gaze drifted, needing to find something, anything else to look at. The flashing lights of their cars drew my eyes in, holding my gaze.

I froze.

“Well, look. I’m sure this has been a traumatic event. Why don’t you come back with us, and we’ll talk about it?” The second said, smiling blankly at me. One hand dropped to his belt.

Neither of them was wearing a radio. There was nothing on his belt but a gun and a pair of handcuffs. The details of it stuck out like a lightning flash in my mind.

I took a step back.

“Look, don’t worry, all right?” the first said, beaming at me. “You’re safe now, right?”

The insignia on their car was wrong. I’d lived in the town my entire life, and it was wrong. It didn’t even have the right name on it. It just looked…

Generic.

I took another step back.

The smiles were beginning to fade from their faces.

“Look, come on,” the first said. “Just take it easy, ok? We’ll just go for a ride.”

His hand reached out, grabbing for my elbow. I skittered away before he could touch me, suddenly sure of two things.

Whoever those two were, they were not police officers.

And I was in a mess of trouble.