Rhonda pulls up to that eerily familiar gas station. I didn’t have to ask to know why we stopped there. Supplies and information were her goals. This place wasn’t part of our town. ‘It begs the question of where did it come from in the first place?’ By now, everyone knows we ain’t home. She puts the Humvee in the park but leaves it running. 

 

“Rookie, take the wheel. The big guy and I will scout it out,” Rhonda said.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Fulton said.

 

The two of us step out of the vehicle. From the outside, it looks like the typical large-themed gas station. The details were very similar, except for some glaring exceptions. ‘Traveling Pete’s Fast Stop.’ didn’t exist in our world. Neither did Pineford City. Rhonda carried a Scar-L as her preferred primary rifle. Her gear is lighter than mine. I’m only bringing a shotgun as a backup, but she had an H&K UMP as a backup. We weren’t carrying law enforcement-issued hardware either, as Pineford needs that gear to protect the city. She took a point, and I fell in behind her. 

 

We carefully enter and split off to either side. Inside is just that. The inside of a large chain gas station, but somewhat several times more enormous than one would expect. I see a map on an information stand, and I take the map. The place was enormous, but the lights were on, meaning it was still in working order. Everything looks as it should be like any other gas station in my world. Most of the place was cleared twenty minutes later, except for a room in the back. We could not search the break room. Someone had locked the door from the inside. A red flag in the present situation. We took up positions and were ready for a breach. 

 

“Sheriff’s department! Anyone inside, open up!” Orkan said firmly.

 

A ruffling came from inside, then we heard the turning of a lock opening. The door squeaked open, revealing four girls no older than eighteen or nineteen. Two redheads and two blondes. The two redheads are identical, with blue eyes and ponytails. The blondes were identical, too, with green eyes. All four of them possess very athletic but voluptuous bodies and ample breasts. The four teens were probably sisters or cousins from the family resemblance. They wore matching uniforms, black skintight leggings, with black fishnet pantyhose. You could see it around their hips. A hot pink sports top with Traveling Pete’s logo with a mesh white fishnet undershirt. This just drew attention to their chest. That is probably the whole point. To top it off, they wore identical stylish thigh-high boots. Not the typical uniform for a gas station in our area. ‘They must work here, but the owner is lenient with the dress code. How long have they been here?’ That means this place is more like a sports bar or club. All four had a pink hat with the logo too. Rhonda rested her shoulders and lowered her rifle. So do I, as the girls let out a combined sigh of relief. Orkan spoke first.

 

“You girls, okay?” Rhonda asked.

 

One redhead spoke up. “Yeah, pretty much. Did our dad send you?” she asked.

 

“Honey, first things first. What’s your name?” Rhonda questioned.

 

“I’m Sarah Orkan, this is my sister Scarlett. Those are Cindy and Mandy Hawthorne,” Sarah said.

 

“You gotta be shitting me…” Rhonda blurted. “You’re telling me Kurt Orkan is your daddy?” she added.

 

She looked at Rhonda with a confused expression. They look at each other, then back at us.

 

“Um no, ma’am. Our dad is Sheriff Karl Orkan…,” Scarlett said.

 

“Hmmm, what about you two? Who’s your daddy?” Rhonda questioned.

 

“We’re adopted. Karl Orkan is our stepdad…,” Cindy revealed.

 

Rhonda looks at me. “You telling me your step sisters?” Rhonda asked.

 

“Half sisters,” Mindy said. “We have the same mother,” Sarah answered.

 

Rhonda sighed, then looked at me.

 

“Right, let’s get you someplace safe,” I said.

 

“Hold on there, goliath. What happened to your daddy and mommy?” Rhonda asked.

 

“Mom’s at the lake in the boathouse. Dad was at work when…,” Sarah said.

 

“Okay, girls, you’re going to stay here. I’ll have a deputy and a nurse come to stay with you. Don’t leave the back area. We’ll go find them,” Rhonda explained. 

 

She clicked her shoulder radio. “Rookie, come in and bring Mrs. Taylor with you. We got some girls in here,” Orkan said.

 

“Copy, on the way boss,” Grace replied.

 

We waited for the short few minutes it took them to come to the break room.

 

“Okay, big guy. You and I are going to check this boathouse out. We can figure everything else out later. You got that?” Rhonda said.

 

“Sure. If that’s how you want to play it. I’m ready to go when you are,” I replied.

 

I agree with the plan Rhonda has laid out. She took the keys from Sarah and left. Sure enough, I spotted two trucks parked outside the gas station. There is a gigantic red six-by-six and a hunter-green four-by-four. We look at one another and smile. There wasn’t even a doubt about which vehicle we were taking. We took the red truck. Orkan wasted no time spinning the wheels out on her way out of the rear parking lot. It was only a fifteen-minute drive down to the boathouse. The directions they gave us took us straight to the location. I look at her as she’s driving into the driveway of the boathouse, and she shoots a quick glare back.

 

That look meant don’t ask, so I didn’t. I could see how this outlandish situation would shake the strongest military vets up. My sister and I did not have a relationship with those girls, but they shared a last name. We did not even have a remote connection. Rhonda undoubtedly wasn’t my half-sister or stepsister. However, the two Orkan girls have a similar facial and body appearance to Rhonda. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that those girls were of Orkan blood. ‘The question is how that is possible.’ At least, I thought so. Rhonda didn’t listen as I gave her oral directions on which roads to take. Yet she has been driving like she knew where to go. This new area had some familiar roads I could almost place, but for her to find her way around raised more questions. We were on an access road on the inner shore of the lake.

 

Sure enough, as we came around the bend in the oil-top road, I saw a boat house coming into view. I also noticed a boat docked next to a pier. As we got closer, a patrol cruiser came into view. The side markings were Upton County Sheriff’s Department, but the colors didn’t match what I knew of our Sheriff’s Department. Rhonda pulls up beside the SUV cruiser. We both exited the truck, and I went towards the boathouse. Rhonda went toward the cruiser to look it over. I crossed the boarding ramp to the front door and knocked thrice but got no answer.

 

I approach the boathouse slowly as I notice the door is ajar. With caution, I walk inside. The entrance to the boathouse is the large living room. Floor-to-ceiling rooms wrap around three sides of the living room. The layout decor matches what I know of luxurious boathouses. In the middle of the room is a humongous three-sided wide-symmetrical-sectional leather couch. A woman is lying on the sofa with her eyes open. I walk over to her, but she doesn’t appear to hear me, even though her eyes are wide open. The woman is lying on the couch as if she is fast asleep. I kneel close to her. Again, she does not react. I check her pulse, and I confirm she is alive. She possesses long orange ginger hair with one blue eye and one green. ‘That is interesting, as my family has the same congenital trait.’ She is unquestionably the mother of those girls we found at the gas station. It looks like she was about to go for a workout or morning jog. The ginger woman is wearing a light pink sports top and matching yoga leggings with hot pink running shoes.

 

Her appearance seems so familiar to my mothers. She is young, though, but she looks so much like my mother and my sisters. The most significant difference is her hair being red instead of blonde. Outside of that difference, I had to accept the truth. This woman possesses all the hereditary genetic traits of my sisters. Her body is statuesque and slanderous, but she possesses a curvaceous physique. Her face is a combination of my mother’s, with specific facial features from my siblings all in one. I didn’t deny these resemblances as uncanny but a reality. The woman’s breasts outmatch Farrah, Appoline, and Dalilah. There is no doubt in my mind her bottom would be simply bounteous. Those girls from the gas station absolutely got their breasts and tushies from her. The more I look at her, the more she reminds me of my stepmother and mother. She may have a biological relation to my biological mother from the world where she originated. The picture on the wall showed her and another man when she was younger. I don’t see him in the later photos of the family. Many of the pictures are of all four girls with the other girl’s father. I found a picture of two men as well. Rhonda’s voice broke me out of my investigation. I can see her shallow breathing and wonder if I can wake her. She is breathing but does not respond to any outside influence. It is almost like she is in some comatose state. I shake her shoulders, but my attempts fall. She is unresponsive. I hear the heavy footsteps of Rhonda coming to my side.

 

“Hey, she’s not waking up. I can’t, for the life of me, get her to wake,” I said.

 

Rhonda bends over to shake her shoulders. Nothing much happened. So I tried with more force. I shook her shoulder a little rougher. It took a combined effort from both of us to wake the woman. We stood back as she stirred awake. The moment she saw Rhonda’s uniform, she shot up.

 

“What happened??? Is Karl okay?” she asked.

 

We both look at one another. ‘This Karl must be their version of the Sheriff.’ Rhonda looks back at the woman.

 

“And you are?” Rhonda asked.

 

“Rachael Hawthorne… Orkan, I mean,” she said, looking at me.

 

Again, we look at each other. It is clear this woman does not come from our world but from another world altogether.

 

“Ma’am… How is that even possible? Do you know either of us?” Rhonda asked.

 

“Um no… should I?” Rachael questions. “Just tell me, is Karl okay?” she added with a worried expression.

 

“Listen… this is Deputy Rhonda Orkan… and I’m Thomas Hawthorne. Her dad is Sheriff Orkan… Kurt Orkan..,” I revealed.

 

She looks stunned for a few moments. We let her take her time. Anyone that just heard something like this would be speechless. She looks at each of us and blinks her eyes every time.

 

“Oh, my god… is this real?” she asked, looking past us.

 

“You tell us. Have you been outside lately?” Rhonda inquired.

 

“Oh no, not since my girls went to work,” she said, composing herself.

 

“All I can tell you is an anomaly of unknown origins has occurred across the entire county,” I explained.

 

“W-What… Wait… Has there been an attack or something?” she questioned.

 

I look at Rhonda, and she sighs.

 

“Ma’am. At the moment, we do not know the nature of the anomaly. However, there is a clear and present danger. We have already discovered three deaths since the start. This is not the place to discuss this,” Rhonda explained.

 

“It will be best if you come with us. We don’t have time for this here,” I said.

 

Rhonda clicks her shoulder radio again. “Officer Evie Harper, Officer Emma Kristensen! Come out to the bridge leading out of town. When you see a large gas station, Traveling Pete’s, meet us there,” Rhonda said. “Come on, let’s go get your girls,” she ordered.

 

She nods, stands up, and follows Rhonda out the door. I take a quick look around. Her husband had to be here at some point. I look in the other rooms and find no sign of the other Sheriff Orkan. ‘There’s nothing more I can do here. Maybe they have a home in the city?’ I left and joined the two in the truck.