Skin Deep

"It's so hot..." Ammy croaked, sprawled across the freshly polished wooden floor. A fan wheezed in the corner, rotating back and forth every few minutes, pushing nothing but dry, dusty air around the room. Usually the fan helped her survive the long summer days, but today it was useless.

She rolled onto her side and groaned as sweat pulled her skin away from the wood. Through the window, she could see her backyard stretching into endless trees. On most summer days, she'd pack water bottles, grab her Nikon, and hunt for nature shots. But today was just too damn hot.

Boop boop de doop

Her text tone echoed through the Google Assistant speakers across the room, interrupting the Pandora playlist.

New Message

Ammy rarely talked to anyone when she felt this gross—it put her in a foul mood—but boredom and curiosity won. She unlocked her phone with the fingerprint reader.

Yo Ames! I'm headed out to get some ice cream and beat this heat! Close 2 U, wanna come with?

Logan. She'd known him for over a decade. Ice cream sounded perfect, but she wasn't dressed for public consumption and definitely not in the right headspace.

Can't. Not dressed for company or public. May even need a shower after. Sorry Sweet Pea.

Before she could set the phone down, it vibrated again.

What kind of excuse is that? Bitch, if you're naked put some shorts on. I'll be there in 5.

Ammy wasn't naked, exactly. She wore only her old grey and black panties—once her favorites until Mother Nature's early visit had left them permanently stained. She sighed.

Fine... have it your way.

Standing up, Ammy felt the familiar dizziness wash over her. Her bare feet tingled and went numb—a lingering effect from the stroke that had caused her health issues growing up. It made her an outcast among most of her peers, but Logan and her three best friends—Sallya, Nyx, and Aries—never made her feel like a burden.

Good answer. See you in a bit.

Logan pulled up just as Ammy locked her front door. She slid into the passenger seat of his black and grey Mustang.

"Hey babe!" Logan called out.

"Hey Wolfie." The nickname came from his resemblance to her favorite X-Men character. As he shifted from park to drive, she thought of that Suite Life episode where Mr. Moseby taught London to drive—a random memory that always surfaced during car rides.

Her phone buzzed. Multiple times.

"Crazy about this weather, huh?" Logan was saying something about red flag warnings and treated backyards, but Ammy's attention was on her phone screen.

New Message

New Message

New Message

Eleven messages. All from Logan. That was weird—he never spam-texted, especially when they were together. She opened the thread.

12:23 P.M.

I'm here.

12:24 P.M.

Hey Ames, there's a weird guy standing in front of your house

12:25 P.M.

He turned around and looked at me. Something about his face just doesn't look right.

12:25 P.M.

He's walking up to my car. Maybe he thinks I live here. I'm going to tell him to go away.

12:27 P.M.

Oh my god, Ames call the police. This guy just pulled me out of the car and I saw it Ammy. His eyes... His face... they changed. I tried yelling but the second I saw them...those eyes. I'm locked in the trunk. He's started the car. Oh good, he's driving away. Ammy, call the police

12:30 P.M.

Ammy is that you? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DON'T GET IN THE CAR

12:31 P.M.

Damn it Ammy, look at your phone.

12:31 P.M.

A

12:31 P.M.

A

12:31 P.M.

A

12:31 P.M.

A

Her blood turned to ice. She looked at the man driving—the man who looked exactly like Logan.

Her phone buzzed again.

A

She typed back with trembling fingers: Is this a joke?

Oh my God, finally!

Slowly, she raised her eyes to study the driver's profile. Her phone buzzed again.

Are you okay?

"Sorry about that," she said, forcing calm into her voice while panic crept up her throat. "People are still wishing me happy birthday..."

"Oh yeah, well happy birthday." He turned to smile at her with Logan's face, Logan's dimples, Logan's crooked front tooth.

If she hadn't known better, the sincerity would have been convincing. But she did know better now. The real Logan never forgot her birthday—it was in April, and he'd taken her out for sushi and mini golf just like he did every year.

"Silly," she said, her hand slowly moving toward her seatbelt. "You already wished me happy birthday. Two months ago. Remember? Sushi and mini golf? You complained about how I always beat you at the windmill hole?"

The thing wearing Logan's face paused for just a heartbeat too long. "Oh, right. Of course. I was just... testing you. Making sure the heat hasn't fried your brain."

But its smile faltered slightly, and Ammy saw something else underneath. Something hungry.

"Two months ago," she repeated, her fingers finding the seatbelt release. "At Sakura downtown. You ordered the salmon roll even though you hate raw fish, remember?"

"Yeah, totally." It nodded quickly, but its knuckles were white on the steering wheel now. "The salmon roll. Right."

Logan was allergic to salmon. Had been since they were kids. She'd seen him break out in hives just from touching a piece once.

"Two months ago!" she said again, and yanked the wheel hard to the right. The car jerked right as the thing wearing Logan's face let out an inhuman screech. They hit the tree hard.

Ammy's body slammed into the dashboard. Pain shot through her ribs as the creature shed Logan's appearance like a discarded coat. Green-tinged skin, yellow eyes, razor teeth—everything wrong.

It bit into her tattooed bicep. She screamed, grabbed the keys from the ignition, and kicked as hard as she could. The passenger door gave way and she tumbled onto the dirt road.

Behind her, she could hear the real Logan pounding frantically inside the trunk.

The creature circled the wrecked Mustang, its face glistening and reptilian. Ammy found her purple taser in her bag—a purchase she'd hoped never to use. The red light flicked on.

When it lunged, she pressed the button. The electrical arc lit up its throat, muscles spasming as it hissed and clawed at its neck.

"Yeah, and there's more where that came from."

The creature looked at the smoking car, screeched once more, and fled into the forest.

Ammy limped to the trunk, hands shaking as she turned the key. Logan sat up, ready for the worst.

"Come on," she said, helping him climb out.

He picked her up and carried her across the road just as the engine exploded. They took cover behind a tree, watching his Mustang burn.

"You never answered my question," he said finally.

"I'm better than your car."

They both looked at the flaming wreckage and sighed—her from exhaustion, him from defeat.

"They'll never believe what happened."

"Hell no," Ammy laughed, feeling her body slowly relax. "I don't even believe it, and I lived through it. What was that thing?"

Logan looked back at his car and exhaled. "I hope we never find out."

"So..." Ammy said. "Ice cream after we call the cops?"

Logan closed his eyes and smiled, shaking his head. "We definitely deserve that ice cream."