by Tyne,David
There wasn't anything we actually needed, in addition to what was already in Ian's house — if he ever came out of his room again — I just needed some time away from Beth, trying to figure out what to say.
The cat was out of the bag; she knew that we'd led her on, whispering behind her back that her parents were dead.
The only noteworthy loot I found was a hefty flashlight and a half-pack of matching batteries. Pretty weighted, as well — in a pinch, the thing could double as a clobbering weapon. It was almost depressing, how my first concern was drawn to the item's bludgeoning capabilities.
I told myself to keep looking around, but I couldn't ignore Beth's cries and whimpers from downstairs any longer. Every time she started another chorus of wails, I felt even sicker for going along with Ian’s not-so-white lie, just for the sake of convenience.
After nearly an hour of fake-searching and mentally preparing myself, I sat down beside the distraught girl in the kitchen. “I’m sorry... about your mum. Your dad, too. We wouldn't have gotten out of the station, or that train without their help.”
Beth stared vacantly at the mallet in her hands, unresponsive. Placing my hand on her tiny shoulder, I tried to establish a connection with her. She must’ve known the truth on some level, but couldn’t accept a world without her parents. The two people who loved her the most, both gone in the blink of an eye.
“You know that Ian... didn't actually kill your mum, right? She was Lost, and if I'm honest... she would’ve turned me into one as well, if Ian hadn't stopped her.”
I was about to start crying instead of Beth, but fortunately we both choked up at the same moment as she glanced down to her feet with those innocent eyes. “I'm not mad... at Mister Ian. I'm stupid, that's all. I saw that daddy was one of the funny people, but... I didn't... I didn't want to...”
Beth could barely speak, but she didn't have to. If I'd seen my own mum turning into a monster like Leo, I'd have a hard time accepting that it was permanent as well.
“...Does he really hate me?” The little girl’s voice was barely a squeak, instantly melting the heart that I'd been trying to keep detached and frozen solid for the past two days. Not knowing what to do in these situations, I tried patting her squarely on the head.
“Ian's... not very happy right now. His mum and dad had a big fight with him, before the, err... funny people came. I think he feels guilty as well, because of what happened to your parents. He’s pushing everyone away, because it's hard for him to—” I stopped myself short, already seeing that the concept of self-harm was lost on an 8-year-old.
“...He doesn't feel like he deserves to be your friend right now, so he said those mean things to try and make you hate him. He wants to punish himself, for what he did.”
Beth glanced up at me with a confused face. “So if Mister Ian still wants to be my friend, but doesn't want to want to be my friend... I don't get it.”
I'll be the first to admit, the way she managed to simplify the paradox made Ian look even thicker than usual. She was exceptionally bright for her age, but at the end of the day, she needed the same structure as any child. Caregivers to look out for her, to tell her that it was all going to be okay.
“I don't hate him... for setting mummy free. Not if she was Lost. If I go over and tell him not to feel bad any more, can we all stay together again?”
I recalled that night at the newsagents, where I told Beth that we could free the souls of the Lost by killing them. It was premature, presumptuous and completely ignorant, and yet in a weird way, I still believed that to be true…
“Absolutely. Don't mention what happened in here though, we don't want to worry him. Just... well, if he doesn't apologise as soon as we walk in the door, we'll do something funny, like... pin him down, and tickle him till he accepts your forgiveness!”
I imitated our plan on Beth, making her giggle through the tears and squirm out of her seat. “...O-Okay, Mister! Let's go and find Mister Ian!”
----
It took another fifteen minutes before we could pluck up the courage to leave that house, narrowly dodging the Lost patrols and crossing the darkened street undetected. By the time we entered his bedroom, Ian was in the same position we’d left him in, sitting idly on his bed with his pale face buried into his palms.
I can't remember exactly what the conversation went like, but Beth made an excellent case — explaining she was happy it was Ian who set her mum free, that she understood we only covered it up to protect her...
It almost seemed too good to be true, how maturely the little girl was handling our major indiscretion. She stressed that she couldn't leave Ian behind because they were best friends; that we were both the closest thing to a family she had left. In the end, it was a blubbering mess between the two of them, managing to hug most of their grief out.
After that was settled, I prepared some 'creative' sandwiches for us consisting of gummy snakes and chocolate wafers as we had no ordinary ingredients. They went down unexpectedly well, and Ian even broke his vow of awkward silence to say thanks.
We talked until bedtime about random nonsense again, like having a team name for our little group — choices from “Rainbow Unicorn Friends“ to “Death Metal Avenge-inators” were thrown between Beth and Ian, until I broke the tie with the winning title “Nicknames are stupid, let's go to sleep already.”
I yawned with a light spin, collapsing onto Ian's single bed as I claimed it for myself. He shook his head with an amused response, dragging me out from his clean sheets. “...Nice try. Beth can sleep here for the night, we'll be across the hall in my parents’ room.”
After we made sure to lock the front and back doors, I was a little alarmed about the sleeping situation. However, my worries disappeared when I walked in and saw that there were two separate beds on either side of the room.
I didn't say anything, but Ian must have noticed that I was thinking about it. “Yeah, those two had... problems, it's fine. You can sleep in my dad's bed, just...” He leaned out towards the hall, making sure that Beth was tucked in and couldn't hear him. “I couldn't exactly let her sleep in here, if she found... Well, just don’t look in his drawers.”
Almost instantly, with a devilish glint in my eye, I grabbed the flashlight and wrestled off Ian's protests as I made my way through the shaded room. Tearing each and every drawer out from its panelling with ridiculously-extravagant movements, I eagerly tried to become my panicking host’s worst nightmare.
“C'mon... Where are you, ya beauty?” I chuckled to myself, and not even Ian couldn't resist smirking. Finally the last drawer hit the deck, completing the tapestry of boxer shorts and worn socks all over the bedroom’s floor
I peered inside the wooden container, while Ian buried his face into his pillow with a mixture of embarrassment and giggles. “Oh... Oh my God...” I stared at the rather curious contents, feeling strangely normal in comparison to Ian’s dad. “Those are... I mean—”
“You think that's bad? Try searching his browser history.” We both erupted into hysterical laughter, which was short-lived when we heard a sharp knock on the door.
Beth poked her tiny head through, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What’s going on? You’re both acting silly, it’s really loud...”
In a desperate attempt to protect the youth and innocence of the young lady, I cast myself across the room with a remarkable leap and planted my stomach over the various goods. Even making contact with them felt... dirty.
Thankfully she didn't see anything, but with one puzzling look at my strange behaviour, she rolled her eyes and returned to Ian's bedroom. Once more, we couldn't hold it in any longer.
It was hard to remember the last time I'd laughed so much, after barely cracking a smile in the past two days. I was simply glad that we had Ian back in our group, after such an excruciatingly-long day of getting nowhere.
I knew that it should've felt weird, goofing around like normal teenagers while the world decayed around us. It never did, though
— to me, these little moments signified something much greater… They were my own act of defiance, a middle finger towards the many reasons that begged for me to give up on living.
I felt like I could take anything the day threw at me, as long as we had nights like this one. Unfortunately, that night was just beginning... for only a couple of minutes later, there was another little knock on our door.
The front door.
14 | Mysterious Visitor
“Beth?” I breathed heavily, wiping the tears from my eyes and trying to prevent further fits of laughter. “Is that you?”
Plodding towards the bedroom door, I opened it slightly and saw that the landing was empty. The evening light trickled through from Ian’s room, still opened by a crack — Beth was lying in his bed, facing me with her confused expression visible in the pale moonlight.
If it wasn't Beth... My face dropped like a hammer, widening my eyes as I prepared to be thrown into danger once again. Glaring down the pitch-black staircase, I recognised a blurry shape pounding on the glass window.
“Ian! Get your ass out here, now!!”
Back in the other room, Ian almost tripped over the risqué drawer upon hearing the gruff voice, shoving everything back into its original position. He joined me in the hallway with a face which, despite sounding corny, looked like he'd seen a ghost.
“Don't make me shout this whole damn street down, man. I saw the light at the window... Come out already!! I swear, I'll bring every single one of those freaks here if I have to!!”
I didn’t know which part I was more concerned about; the idea of letting this stranger inside our shelter, or how Ian seemed to be traumatised by his presence. I put my hand on his shoulder, apparently breaking some sort of spell as he barrelled down the staircase and unbolted the door, letting the midnight visitor in without further question.
Heated whispers flew between them, and with one guilty glance up at me, Ian pulled the brawny man into his colourless living room to have a more private conversation. Beth joined me in the hall, clearly annoyed with her rest being disturbed a second time.
“...What's... going on? I heard a funny noise... Where's Mister Ian?”
I motioned to the bottom of the stairs, but before I could put her back to bed, Beth’s grin had already reached mischievous levels. Sneaking down into the darkness, the 8-year-old peeked herself around the corner in an attempt to spy on the two men. Having nothing better to do with my time, and feeling curious about Ian's new friend myself, I soon joined her.
“...Why did you come here, this late at night? Those things are everywhere!” Ian’s voice sounded somewhat troubled, and not just for safety's concern.
The man gravelly chuckled to himself, almost dismissive. “...What, you didn't think I'd come to check up with you, after what you pulled? Gimme a break, as if those freaks could even land a scratch on me.”
I couldn't tell whether this was a violent visit, or if it had something to do with Ian's parents. Whatever the case, our host seemed to want this over as soon as possible.
“You shouldn’t have come here, just... forget that anything happened. I found some good people, a little girl as well. They don't know me at all, okay? I can start over again.”
Ian's voice seemed to be trembling, clearly uncomfortable with his proximity to the man. Despite projecting an air of control, he kept fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt. Just who was he, and why was Ian so cautious around him?
Lowering his head, Ian could barely look his visitor in the eye. “What they think, it's really important to me. They trust me, they don't judge me, not even when I get mad at them. We're strong together, but if you're here... It's only a matter of time, before they figure—”
Ian's head suddenly jerked around the corner, scaring the living daylights out of Beth at my side. “What are you two...” he sighed, letting a tiny smile spread from the corners of his lips. He seemed annoyed, yet slightly amused at our god-awful attempt at eavesdropping.
“...C-Can we have a minute, alone? This is Harry, by the way. He's a...” Ian stumbled to find the right word. “...He's a friend.”
To be courteous, I leaned in to shake the spiky-haired visitor’s hand — although I think he preferred crushing instead of shaking. Soothing my bent fingers as we left the living room, it was safe to say that neither Beth nor I could sleep at this point, so we raided the kitchen together for a midnight snack.
I didn't want Beth to eat anything with too much sugar, so I washed an apple for her. The running water only dribbled out of the tap now, but we collected enough to share a bottle between us.
We were running low on fruit, but I didn't mind since Ian's house had enough food to last us at least a week. Beth poked my side invasively, already having finished her meal. “...Do you know who Mister Ian's friend is?”
I shook my head as I took my sip of water, passing the bottle to the inquisitive Beth. She refused to drop the subject, as expected. “They look like friends, but Mister Ian didn't look too happy to see him. Wonder why...”
It was rather sweet, how worried Beth felt towards Ian. They'd formed such a close bond, and we'd barely known her for two days. I guess the same could be said for Ian and myself, as well. Nothing like a terrifying infectious outbreak to bring a group together.
“I don't think we have to worry. Sure, it looks weird, but whatever's happened with Ian in the past... it doesn't change what he's done for us, right? Besides, it might be a good thing if his friend sticks around. He looks real tough, hah.”
Beth agreed, and helped me clean up the messy kitchen out of habit. We went through the living room to head back to bed, a path I hadn’t considered until it was too late. I hoped that they wouldn’t mind the interruption...
Ian looked noticeably fatigued, stressed by a rather intense conversation with his friend Harry. The thug glared at him strangely, almost as though he didn't quite know who Ian was himself. To tell the truth, I was starting to empathise.
A certain chill swept over us, the atmosphere collapsing into itself as we all jolted with alarm. Surely we all didn't hear that just now, I told myself with a throaty gulp. Then it happened again, and there was no mistaking it. We had another visitor.
“Ian,” I breathed tensely. “You... locked the front door again, right?”
15 | Safe Haven
One tiny mistake, that's all it took. After the first few broke in, the Lost poured themselves in from that single entrance; within seconds, the whole ground floor was swarming with their kind. Thankfully, we had the good sense to climb the staircase while nabbing my rucksack and metre stick, or else we wouldn't have been able to push past.
The home invaders seemed to be having some trouble navigating the inclination of the stairs, buying us some time to strategize. “Beth, go and grab Ian's bat. See if you can find anything Harry can use to defend himself with.”
“No problem mate, I'm already covered.” He grinned at me as he tossed a sleek switch-blade into the air, catching it with the back of his hand. Embedded with a Chinese dragon design, it looked more like something a tourist would buy instead of a deadly weapon.
My own prejudice was telling me that the blade was his personal lucky charm... He must have been some kind of gang member, only a couple of days ago.
Bouncing forward like a boxer in the ring, he threw lightning-fast punches into the faces of the Lost with his knife sticking out from between his middle and index fingers. As they dropped lifelessly onto the stairs, he seemed strangely excited about having our safe house overflowing with the dead.
When Beth returned with the cricket bat, the newcomer called 'Harry' turned to spout a curt laugh. “Cricket? You, Ian? What are you gonna do, wait for the freaks to pick you last for their team?”
Ian ignored the comment with a cold turn, and then it struck me. Could this be the bully who almost stabbed him?
Not having the time nor the peace of mind to think about it, my eyes zeroed in on the car keys hooked against the front door. “
Those keys... Does that car out front belong to your parents?”
Seeing where I was going with this, Ian nodded and threw himself ahead of Harry, who was surprised by the sudden spike in courage. While the tall visitor and I restrained the Lost on either side of the lobby, Ian swiftly picked up the keys and threw them at my face. “You're driving.”
The chilly night air wrapped under my clothes, sending shivers throughout my body as we charged towards the miniature red vehicle parked outside. I wasn't comfortable with Beth being lifted out of the house by the knife-wielding stranger, but it was probably better than having her on ground level.
I just hoped that I remembered enough from my driving lessons to start the car, never mind manoeuvring it. I never got my licence — in fact, I stopped learning due to how catastrophic my driving skills were. At least now, it wouldn’t matter if I hit anything... except a brick wall, of course.
Once we were all seated, it was pretty unnerving to watch all of the Lost quickly surrounding our car. They banged on the doors and snarled through the paper-thin windows with their grey, clammy faces. It took me until then to realise that it was a manual car, not like the automatic I'd driven before... It was irrelevant, really. It's wasn’t like a stick shift could make my driving any worse than usual.
“...Let's do this.” I turned the ignition on, and gunned it down the street. The engine revved throughout the neighbourhood, drawing in all of the looming figures and knocking over two or three wheelie bins as I went.
Even though it was pitch-black, I still had my reservations about putting the headlights on. Instead of giving away our location, I opted to drive a little slower once we were away from the initial crowd beside Ian's house. “We need to go to the community centre,” Harry exhaled. “...Your parents are fine, Ian. I saw them there.”
I could hear the boy sigh in relief. His tall new friend leaned backwards in his seat, scratching behind his ear like a dog.
