The Abnormals: Book One

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The Abnormals: Book One Page 8

by Isabelle Sorrells


  Alex started up the steps as quietly as possible, his heart pounding as adrenaline spiked his nerves.

  “Alex, wait,” his mother called.

  Alex froze in his tracks and sighed. So much for that plan.

  “Did you finish your chores for the day?” she asked.

  “I’ll do them tomorrow. I’m going to bed,” Alex replied almost automatically to the familiar question. Alex waited in the silence that followed, bracing himself for his mother’s predictable anger, but nothing came. He leaned over the banister and peered into the kitchen to find her stone-faced, staring at the wall behind his father’s head. He couldn’t help but notice the beer bottle in his father’s hand. Only one this late at night? Weird. “I’ll do them in the morning, don’t worry. I won’t forget,” Alex reassured her, unsettled by her uncharacteristic response.

  “Alex, please have a seat. We need to talk to you.”

  “Is everything okay?” Alex asked as he walked down the steps and stopped in front of the kitchen.

  “Sit down,” Alex’s father demanded. Alex complied without complaint, sensing something wrong with this situation. Something deeply, deeply wrong.

  “Where’s Jessica?” Alex asked when no one spoke.

  “At a friend’s,” his mother replied. “It’s just us.”

  More silence. Alex was growing increasingly uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by.

  “You’ve barely been home lately,” his mother finally said. “You’ve been acting so strange; skipping out on responsibilities and family meals.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Busy doing what exactly?”

  “School. And I’ve been hanging out with my friends.”

  “Where have you been really?” Alex’s father asked, finally looking him in the eye.

  “Well, I was with my friends at the mall today…” Alex elaborated, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

  “No! Where have you been?” Alex’s father yelled, slapping his hand on the table with anger.

  “What do you mean? Stop asking me that question! I already told you!”

  “Enough with the bullcrap!” Alex’s father stood abruptly, shoving his chair back into the wall. “What are you doing? Drugs?”

  “God no! Why won’t you ever trust me? I’ve been spending time with friends. That’s all I’ve been doing. Drugs? You’ve got to be kidding me! Why would you think that?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Alex’s mother exclaimed as she stood. Both of his parents were looking down at him now. “We don’t want you with these “friends” of yours anymore. They are a bad influence on you. You have become negligent and are away from home too often.”

  Alex stood up abruptly, sending his chair tumbling backwards onto the floor. He stood a full head over his mother but his father still towered over him. “Like you’ve ever cared if I was home or not! If you could even call it a home! You’ve never given me a reason to want to be here.”

  “Like Hell we haven’t, you ungrateful brat! You aren’t even ours and we have to do everything for you! Feed you, clothe you, put a roof over your head. And for what? So you can go flouncing about the city doing God knows what! Whatever it is, you. Are. Done,” his father stared him down, daring him to argue against him, but all Alex could do was stare at him, speechless.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Alex could finally get the words out. “Not...yours?”

  His father’s expression changed in realization, cursing before setting his jaw in a tight line.

  “What do you mean I’m not yours?” Alex asked in a hushed tone. He looked from his father to his mother. She was staring at her husband with a dark expression. No one spoke.

  “Answer me!” Alex demanded, clenching his fists, partly in anger and partly to stop his hands from trembling.

  His mother finally met his eyes, and what he saw in them made the truth all too clear.

  Not his mother.

  Alex couldn’t stop the trembling anymore. He spun, tripping over his fallen chair before running up the stairs. He fell through his doorway, quickly scrambling up to slam the door shut. He slid down the wood and just tried to breathe. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t stop the trembling from taking over his body. He didn’t know how long he sat there, trying to understand everything that happened. His father’s words were on repeat in his mind and when their meaning finally hit him — truly hit him — one thing seemed certain — seemed right — in this mess of a night.

  He had to run away.

  Alex used the doorknob to pull himself to his feet and looked around his room. He pulled his wobbly desk chair under the doorknob in an attempt to buy him some time should he need it and grabbed his backpack from his bed, quickly shoving as many clothes as he could fit inside. When he was done he looked around again. What else did he need? What else? He had to be missing something.

  Money. Alex dropped to his knees and lifted his mattress off the floor. Underneath lay a small wad of cash he had saved up by cleaning and mowing lawns for his neighbors or helping out kids with their homework, so that when he finally left home he would be ready for it. He never thought it would happen so soon.

  He shoved the wad into his bag and zipped it up. Alex hesitated before walking over to his closet door and pulling it open. There inside lay his sword, still resting in the same place he had put it on the first day of school. Alex’s fingers fumbled as he went to grab it and the thing fell to the ground with a thump. Alex cursed, heart racing as he quickly wrapped the sword against his back and tugged on a blue hoodie, with his jacket layered over. He quickly opened the window and dropped the backpack out onto the ground. Alex stood completely still, listening for the strangers’ voices that had called him family for so many years and yet never treated him so.

  Alex leaned against his closet door opposite his window and took a deep breath as he closed his eyes in an attempt to steady himself for what he was about to do.

  Alex darted forward, running toward the open window at full speed. Alex leapt out into the cold night air. His open jacket and hoodie flapped in the wind. His arms flew above him. For a moment, time slowed and he felt as if he was flying. But that moment soon ended, and he fell toward the ground.

  His feet landed on the pavement awkwardly. He fell forward. Alex tried to stop himself from falling on his face, but his trembling hands did nothing to bar his momentum. His arm bent, sending him tumbling even faster down the driveway.

  Alex slammed into the metal garbage cans at the end of the driveway, sending them flying across the road. The cans crashed and clanged into the street. Alex cursed again, snatching up his bag. He had to leave now. His parents were going to find out he was gone soon, and he didn’t plan on being here when they did. But where could he go that they wouldn’t find him?

  “Honey, make sure he doesn’t try something he’ll regret,” Mrs. Shaffer looked up at her husband from where she had slumped into her seat. Mr. Shaffer sighed and picked up his abandoned beer, taking a long swig before he stood and pounded up the steps, his beer still gripped in his hand. He did not want to be sober right now.

  When he got to Alex’s door he clasped his hand around the knob and turned it. Or at least, he tried to. All the knob would do was jiggle. Mr. Shaffer tried again and again, but the door wouldn’t budge. His anger rising, he pounded on the door until it burst open, breaking the hinges. The curtains covering the window fluttered in the fresh breeze that flowed through the open window. His son was nowhere in sight.

  The beer in his hand slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor, alcohol pouring onto the ground and seeping into the carpet. Mr. Shaffer ran down the stairs, skipping steps as he went. Alex was not going to get away. Mr. Shaffer jumped into his car and slammed on the gas, which sent him skidding backwards down the driveway. Flooring the accelerator once again, Mr. Shaffer sped down the road, quickly covering th
e distance Alex had put between them.

  Alex slowed down to a brisk walk to catch his breath as well as his bearings. Which way was he supposed to go? Alex stopped completely when he realized whose house he was in front of. He should probably stop and say good-bye, right? Yes, he should at least try. He owed him that much.

  Mark ran his towel through his wet hair, shaking out droplets of water when he heard a sound at his window. He looked up to see a rock hit the glass. Curious, Mark put down his towel and pushed his window open just in time for a rock to go flying past his face.

  “Shoot! Sorry!” Alex called from his yard below.

  “Dude! What are you doing outside my window? Its almost midnight,” Mark asked as he looked Alex over. He seemed… off. Mark could see a sheen of sweat across his forehead under the streetlight, and... was he shaking? Alex shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced down the street anxiously. He had his backpack on, and it looked full. More so than usual.

  “I just wanted to say good-bye before I left,” Alex replied.

  “Left? Where are you going?”

  “I… I don’t know. I just have to go. I can’t stay here.” Alex glanced down the street again.

  “Why?”

  “I can’t explain right now. I’m sorry. You’re a good friend Mark. Thank you,” Alex looked him in the eye before glancing down the street again.

  Why did he keep doing that? Was he running from something..?That’s when it clicked for him. “You’re running away aren’t you?”

  Alex started at that but his attention was quickly drawn away by some headlights that appeared in the distance.

  “I’m sorry Mark…” Alex said before taking off around the corner and out of sight. Seconds later a black suburban drove around the corner, the engine revving as it sped up. Mark watched until it was out of sight then grabbed his backpack, determined not to leave his friend to deal with whatever this was alone.

  Alex took off running, unsure of where to go. His father’s car wasn’t far behind him, and the way the engine revved up, he’s sure he’d been spotted. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to outrun a car, Alex veered to the right, jumping over some bushes and dashing into someone’s backyard. He tried to stay off the streets, jumping over fences and bushes and going around gardens and pools.

  He could hear his father’s car speeding through the streets. At one point Alex caught sight of the car on the other side of a house he was behind and he faltered, stumbling face first into a kiddie pool. A dog started barking somewhere and he took off again, now dripping wet. He passed through another yard with a motion sensor light, and was briefly blinded, crashing into a plastic slide. He pushed off again and ran out onto another street.

  He stopped hearing his father’s car a long time ago, but he wouldn’t relax yet. A few houses down he saw a large park with a playground. Alex took off after it but stopped in his tracks when he saw his father’s suburban circling the park through the trees on the other side. He cursed and looked around for someplace else to go.

  He needed a destination. A place he could hide out in until he found someplace else to go. Alex looked back at the park, uncertain why he recognized it. When his eyes traveled to the swings he remembered, this was the park his friends took him to. He remembered the grand tours when they first began hanging out, and realized one of those places would get him away from this town and away from his family.

  The docks. Alex took off running again, cutting through alleys and backyards, going on the streets only when he needed too. He stopped only to watch as cars went by with bated breath. When he finally got there, it was early morning, the sky a dark blue, the sun not yet above the horizon. Rows of ships stretched down the dock, and Alex ran by each one until he found a dark red cargo ship with men running to and from it. By the looks of it, they were trying to make a hasty departure.

  Two men were arguing in the center of the dock. One of them was short and skinny, carrying a clipboard. His shoulders drooped and as he stood, it looked as though he struggled to hold himself up, as if his body was too heavy for his frail legs to hold. The man in front of him on the other hand was tall with broad shoulders. Alex could tell he was a man in command. Alex ducked behind one of the many crates that the men were loading onto the ship and leaned forward to listen to their conversation.

  “What do you mean we still have another hour before we can leave?” the taller man groaned.

  “I am terribly sorry, sir, but the delivery trucks were held up in an accident on the highway, so they were forced to take a detour that added another hour to their trip. And we still have about three-hundred more crates to load onto the ship,” said the man with the clipboard.

  “Well, get on with it then! We should have been gone two hours ago!”

  “But sir, I saw that it’s supposed to storm later on tomorrow. Won’t the captain have to delay our departure for it to pass?”

  “No, the storm will only be on land by the looks of it. We should be fine. Getting these shipments on schedule is what we should be focusing on. And for Pete’s sake, Rick, quit calling me sir. Need I remind you that my first name is Will, not sir?” The taller man added.

  “Yes, sir. Will do sir.” The smaller man smiled wryly as he hurried off to help the others.

  Once the two men departed, Alex dashed up the ramp onto the boat and found a hiding spot behind wooden crates covered by a sheet. Alex quickly went underneath the sheet and rested his head against the wood, finally allowing himself a shaky breath. Closing his eyes, he waited for the ship to leave.

  Alex must have drifted off while he was waiting because he was startled awake from the sound of pounding footsteps and hushed voices running in his direction. Alex moved deeper into the tight little space between the ship’s metal side and the crates, holding his breath and hoping that whoever was out there wouldn’t notice he was there. The footsteps stopped right in front of the sheet that covered the crates he was huddled next to. They sounded rushed and confused, unsure of where to go. The sheet flew open and four figures rushed inside. It was too dark to see who they were, so Alex reached into his backpack and pulled out a flashlight he had thankfully left in his bag a few days before. Alex flicked the light on and rested the light on the four figures.

  It was Nicole, David, Brooke, and Mark. They all had backpacks slung over their shoulders.

  “Hey, get that out of my eyes!” cried David, throwing his arms up to shield his eyes.

  “Be quiet! Do you want to get us caught?” whispered Brooke.

  “Oh, right,” replied David. “Sorry.”

  “Guys! What are you doing here?” Alex whisper-yelled.

  “We’re coming with you,” replied Nicole. “Wherever that is.”

  “Yeah, where are we going?” asked David.

  “I’m going anywhere but here,” Alex said.

  “Why? Did we upset you?” asked Brooke.

  “No! No, of course not,” Alex said, waving the flashlight around. “Not you. Its...complicated. How did you find me?”

  “You told me you were running away, remember?” Mark asked.

  “Yes, but how’d you know I was going to come here?”

  “The bus terminal and train are farther out toward the main part of the city. It would have taken too long to get there. This was the closest transportation option,” Mark explained.

  “Phenomenal deductive-reasoning, really, but I’m not getting off this boat, so don’t try to stop me,” Alex said, gripping the tarp they were hiding under as if it was a tether to himself and the ship.

  “We kinda figured. Why do you think we have backpacks?” asked David, pointing to his back.

  “Wait, what?” Alex was interrupted when a sudden roar sounded from outside.

  “What is that?” asked Nicole.

  Alex lifted the tarp and peered out. The ship had left the docks and was now heading out to sea
. A droplet of water slid down Alex’s face, and he looked up toward the sky. Dark, heavy clouds hung on the horizon almost as if they were sitting on a shelf. Another droplet of water landed on Alex’s face followed by another and another until the droplets quickly turned into downpour. Alex let go of the tarp and turned back to the others. His hair stuck to his forehead with water dripping down his face.

  “It’s raining,” Alex remarked.

  “Yeah. We can see that,” Nicole laughed.

  “There’s going to be a storm. The ship has already left the docks. You should have never followed me here,” Alex scolded.

  “There’s no going back now,” shrugged David.

  “What are your parents going to think when they realize their kids have run away? Or that they’ve gone missing? They’re going to worry.” Alex pointed accusingly at the four of them.

  “Of course they will. But what kind of friends would we be if we let you stow away on a ship alone? Besides, won’t your parents worry too?” Brooke asked.

  “When we get back on land, we’ll figure out a way home,” Mark said when Alex didn’t answer. “It’s too late to go back now, so let’s see where this ship will take us.”

  Thirteen

  Alex woke up to a sudden jerk and a loud thud of the ship. He and his friends had fallen asleep against the crates and they were now soaked. Alex looked down to see that water had seeped through the tarp, covering the floor in a puddle of water. Alex lifted the tarp once again and looked out to see the largest rocks he’s ever seen towering over the ship.

  The wind roared and rain poured down on the metal deck. Alex crawled out from the tarp and hid behind some nearby crates, stretching his legs. He peered around a large wooden box. Crew members were running around frantically, trying to keep the ship from colliding with any of the rocks or being sunk by the gigantic waves. The crew members were so wrapped up in their jobs that none of them noticed the small silhouette of a boy running from behind a crate and into the covering of a tarp. Except for one.

 

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