by Jack Hammond
“We are. I truly believe that.” Edward said as he waved the young woman off the drive, a powerful roar from the engine and the Porsche sped away.
Once he'd returned to the house, Edward cleaned out the glasses, dried them and put them away. He closed the curtains downstairs, locked up the front door and made his way up the stairs. Edward opened the door at the far end of the hallway and moved inside. The room was bare, plain white walls, wooden floorboards under his feet. The curtains were closed already. Edward prised away a loose floor board and took out a small music box.
The handcrafted burr elm and palisander veneers were pristine. Edward held it with both hands; he felt the cold brass turned feet underneath. The sensation sending his thoughts into the past, reminding him of the first time he had chosen it. Edward placed the box down in front of him and removed his necklace. It had been years since he had seen the box, yet it had been ever present in his thoughts. Inside the blue velvet lined interior held a gold pendant, the symbol calling to him as he eagerly took it in his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.
Edward could hear the expanse in the distance, the whistling wind of the void, the call of the dark. Pictures, documents, all different types of information hung freely in mid-air around him. To his left was a tree of photos, some with images and names, others with silhouettes and question marks. Edward smiled as his gaze drifted over all fifteen names. Too much time had passed since he had stood here, even longer since he could actually do anything. He conjured a pen with his mind and drew a line through the name Victor Skully.
Edward was not happy he had deceived Sarah. The trip to the archives wasn't the start of a sting. Not like she had been led to believe. One document Edward requested wasn’t random as he had told her. It was a piece of a puzzle Edward had been working on longer than he could remember, before he had even met Sarah. Edward took one more look around, “I told you I would wait. I said I'd never give up.” He said out loud to the darkness. “Seven years, but I finally have removed a name. I made you a promise and I swear I will keep it.”
Chapter Ten
Wesley’s gaze had not faltered; he just lay there, staring at the digital numbers on his clock. His mind raced, the thoughts of what had happened in the colosseum making it impossible for him to sleep. A smell of sausage and bacon drifted into his bedroom, he was not in the mood to eat. But from the sound of his stomach, the hunger pangs thought otherwise. Wesley made his way downstairs, entered the kitchen and was greeted by his dad, manning the grill while he whistled a cheerful tune.
“Morning son,” he chirped.
“Morning dad,” Wes said taking a seat.
Wesley’s father was dressed in the chef whites he had received as a joke present a few years previously, instead of being in the bottom of a wardrobe, or the back of an airing cupboard. Joe had embraced them, proudly wearing them regardless of what people thought.
“You look a bit rough son, you okay?” he asked with a hint of concern.
“Didn’t get much sleep,” he admitted, “a lot on my mind.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“No, it’s stuff I need to sort out.” He rubbed his eyes, “Thanks anyway.”
“Not seen Luke in a few days, you two fallen out?”
“No.” Wesley said before taking a moment. “I don’t think so.” He actually wasn’t sure.
“Your mum and I only said the other night we miss him.”
“I’ll sort it out today.” Wes confirmed. He needed to say something, but what? What lies would he decide to tell his best friend now to save his feelings?
The grey sky was heavy with dull clouds, the overcast look promising more than just rain and sleet, maybe even another dose of snow. Wesley had waited for Luke on the corner of their two streets. He was unsure just what he could confess to, but he needed to say something. He owed his friend that. After all with their history, he should be able to tell him exactly what was happening. Part of him wondered if he was trying to save Luke, or in fact trying to save himself. Would telling him his secret really put Luke at such risk? Or was he being selfish?
Luke stepped out of his terraced house, into the morning air. His warm breath was clearly visible as he puffed out his cheeks in reaction to the harsh temperature change. Luke’s eyes glimpsed his friend on the corner through misty breath, a reluctant wave signifying a certain amount discontent from being ignored in a way he had never known. Wesley watched Luke cross the road, the pair sharing a perfunctory greeting. Silently the two of them made their way along Alberta Terrace, leaves crunching underfoot. The noise of the main roads heavy traffic soon came within earshot.
Wesley cast an uncertain glance at him. Luke held the straps on his backpack with both hands, like a pair of comedy bracers. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’m just gagging to know if you got anywhere with Sadie.” Luke replied envy and interest were both apparent in his tone.
“No, I didn’t.”
“So what happened?”
“Nothing,” Wesley added.
“Don’t give me that. Something must have happened, I left the two of you in your house together.”
“It wasn’t like that Luke, really.”
Luke didn’t appear to be accepting his explanations and why would he?
Passing between the traffic, that was at a complete standstill as usual, Luke finally spoke again. “So are you back to normal now?”
“How do you mean, in what way?” Wes asked unsure what normal was just lately.
“Are we hanging out again or are you busy?”
“Not sure, I think so.”
“Wow, nothing like a bit of confidence in a reply.” Luke commented under his breath.
Wesley didn’t react. He owed him some kind of justification for why he had been so distant and without wanting to go into it, this was the easier option.
They had almost reached the tired looking school gates, a multitude of flecks were missing from its worn green paint. Passing between them Luke broke the silence. “Can you at least tell me how it came about? Seeing as though you refuse to tell me how it ended.”
He would not stop asking. To Luke it was a nagging itch that wouldn’t stop, like an annoying tune which ceaselessly forced you into submission. “I just tried to be friends with them.”
“Them?” Luke stopped dead in his tracks, “Them, as in Sadie and Darren?”
“Yes,” he replied pulling up.
“Sadie I understand. But why the hell would you consider being that idiot’s friend?”
“Doesn’t matter, they most likely won’t talk to me after how I spoke to them,” Wes frowned the instant he said it.
“What did you say?” Luke’s face brandishing a wide smile for the first time, “You have to tell me!”
“It’s not important, it’s done now.”
Luke looked past Wesley, “You sure about that?” he added nodding into the distance.
Wesley looked beyond the school yard ahead. The young first years dashing about playing tag or chase me, chase me. The older kids huddled in groups looking discerningly at them, lording over them as if they hadn’t done it years before. Past the rural segment which had been built into the bleak dull tarmac. The trees on either side leaned into each other like an elderly couple withstanding the test of time. That’s where he saw Sadie and Darren waiting outside the form rooms. Darren had his hands firmly in his pockets, a forlorn look etched upon his face. Sadie on the other hand looked purposeful, pacing back and forth she gesticulated along with whatever she was saying, although Darren seemed vague, almost uninterested.
“I’m guessing they are waiting for you.”
Wesley cursed, “We’ll have to go through the assembly hall.”
“We will?” Luke replied surprised. “What’s this ‘we’ business?”
“Come on, I don’t want to speak to them.” After last night Darren would be angry or at the least annoyed. But Sadie, he actually feared the repercussions from her more than the possibility of physical v
iolence from Daz.
Luke threw his head back. “Okay, let’s go.”
Wesley led the way, cutting through the English block. Cold brick walls, solid red and blue wooden doors flashed by on either side. Their pounding school shoes echoed, reverberating up and down the corridor. The fire doors banged open and Wes and Luke entered the caretaker’s yard. Large four wheeled bins were pushed back against the lattice mesh fence. The grass was in tatters, the frayed edges caused by the constant movement of the trash receptacles. They climbed up onto the metal bins and hopped the fence into the woodland area surrounding the school.
They used the trees for cover as they made their way through the foliage to the rear entrance of the assembly hall. Inside the chairs had already been arranged for the head teacher’s morning announcements, no doubt Mr McCormack would be in the staff room, putting the finishing touches to one of his stories with meanings he was all too fond of. Sadly the students paid little attention to him and even less to his sermons. The huge glass windows either side of the hall allowed the dreary morning light inside. Wesley and Luke headed towards the main stage. Two overbearing black curtains were tied back with thick gold tasseled ropes.
They arrived at the form rooms, which lined the corridors on both sides. Luke took hold of Wesley’s arm pulling him back, “Truth.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want the truth, I deserve that. Come on.” Luke almost pleaded.
“There’s nothing to tell.” Wesley replied pulling his arm from his grasp.
Luke stared at him, intensely. Wesley wasn’t sure if it was anger, hurt or just confusion. “We’re friends, brothers. Don’t do this, Wes.”
“Do what? You’re the one going mental on me.” Wesley regretted his words, every one of them.
“I’ve just jumped over the bin fence, ran through bushes to avoid those pair and you’re seriously saying I’m being mental?”
Wes could plainly see now it was anger, so it should be, he was lying straight to his face. “Just leave it Luke!” Wesley snapped.
“Done,” Luke walked away.
“What’s done?”
Silence, he just kept walking away.
“Luke?” Wesley frowned as he watched his best friend disappear into his form room.
The sound of struggling bounced around the tiled walls of the toilet as Wesley opened the door. Immediately he caught sight of a group of boys. He only knew one of them by name, the other three by reputation. Patrick Pullman was held by two lads while the third administered a beating, freezing they turned their attention to Wesley. They decided he held no threat and waited for him to back out of the room before continuing. Perhaps it was the acoustics of the men’s room they liked, or the fact it was out of sight of any teachers. Wesley felt sorry for Patrick; he was the kid everyone at Guildford picked on. There wasn’t a level beneath him, his only function was to serve as a target, sadly if Wesley had tried to help him, he would have just made himself one, too.
Wes was trying not to think about anything, except for getting through the day without seeing Sadie, Darren and unfortunately Luke too. How had it come to this he asked himself, how had he alienated his best friend, upset Sadie and antagonised Darren? Why wasn’t the Reaper clash coming to the forefront of his thoughts, perhaps his subconscious was aware there was time for that later?
The smell of Shepherd’s pie cooking in the oven brought Joe to the kitchen door. The aroma of the potato browning made his mouth water, “Smells lovely, Hol.”
“Shouldn’t be long now,” she smiled.
“Oh good, I’m starving.” He admitted, the phone suddenly took him away from the food. “Hello?” he answered.
“Joe!” Chad said loudly, the background noise was fierce in his ear.
“Chad, where are you? I can hardly hear you.”
“I’m at the airport. I’m flying back in a few hours.”
“What already? I thought you were there for another week or more,” he said surprised.
“Trouble back home, I got a call. So I’m on the next flight.”
“Okay, do you want me to collect you?”
“No, no, I’ll be fine. Just wanted to let you know I’ll be coming back early.”
“Alright I’ll see you soon, safe trip okay.”
“Give my best to Holly and Wes,” he said. “Bye.”
“Bye, Chad.” Joe hung up. “Chad’s already done over there.” He repeated.
“That was quick, he's not staying on for a holiday?” Holly asked, that was his normal routine.
“No, something’s happened local. He’s been told to come back.”
“As long as it not downsizing. No jobs are safe.”
“No, I don’t think it’s that.” Joe mused for a moment. He wasn’t sure exactly what his brother did, it was sales, but didn't know if he was freelance or working for a company. “Anyway if he lost his job, he’d walk into another one in seconds.”
Holly nodded as she removed the pie from the oven. “Give Wes a shout, will you.”
“Yeah. No Problem.”
Wesley shovelled another heaped fork of potato and mince into his mouth, paying little attention to the surrounding conversation. Holly and Joe gave him quizzing looks as he seemed to be away in another world.
“How’s the pie?” Holly asked.
He didn’t reply.
“Wes, your mum asked you how the pie is.” Joe added a touch more volume to the question.
He snapped out of it and shook his head apologising. “Sorry mum, it’s lovely, really nice.”
Holly smiled.
“Things go badly with Luke?” Joe asked his son.
“Yeah, I made things worse.”
“What happened?” Holly asked.
Wesley didn’t want to lie to his parents, so he opted for an easy explanation. “You know, it was the dumbest thing. It was nothing and then it became a big deal.”
“You’ll make up though?” Holly insisted, more than questioned.
“Yeah, I need to give him time. It’s as much my fault as his.” Wesley lied, it was completely his fault.
Joe changed the subject. “Chad’s heading back tonight.”
Wes was surprised, “Already?”
“Yes, something's happened back here.”
“Oh right.” Wesley replied. His eyes glazed over suddenly, his mind emptied of thoughts.
“You okay?” Holly asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. I need to go,” his voice became emotionless.
Holly and Joe watched him leave the table and head upstairs. His footsteps could be heard thumping onto each step.
“I don’t think he’s alright.” Joe said. “I think it’s more than just a fall out with Luke.”
“That was just weird, like a switch. One minute he was here, next he was gone.”
“Go and talk to him. Find out what’s really wrong Joe.” Holly suggested.
“I’ll finish this and go have a word.”
He opened the door and felt more like himself. Wesley sensed a force drawing him upstairs, just like before and just as Alwin had told him. Wesley was far less apprehensive, he flicked on the light and moved over to the window. Without hesitation he drew back the curtain and looked out into the street. He didn’t flinch at the sight of the man across the road, the same man he’d seen there before, and the same one who had followed him to the Castle. Their eyes locked, he was waving a brown envelope in his hands, Wesley’s gaze falling upon it as the stranger crossed the road.
He tipped back the bin and slipped the letter underneath before taking a few steps back. He broke eye contact and headed away, out of sight. Wes shook his head hard and then rubbed his eyes. What just happened? He asked himself. Not questioning it, Wes darted out of his room, descending the stairs he took three steps at a time. Not slowing down, he rushed to the front door and outside before he stopped. He moved hesitantly, looking to see if he could see the man. He picked up the manila envelope and backed his way up the drive and into h
is house.
Wesley lay the envelope down in front of him as he sat at the desk. What was it? Should he open it? All good questions he mused. He pulled back the seal and removed the papers. Wes spread them out and covered his mouth. They were drawings, not just like in his sketch pad, but identical! The image of the Gladiator fighting the Reaper was just as perfect as any he had seen. How was it possible? Who was this man? Was he actually helping him? Wesley now had the means to beat Chris’ manifestation, but how had the man known to bring him the pictures?
The graphite rubbed off on his fingertips as he held them. He ran his index along the edge of the pages, feeling the harshness of where they had been torn from a book. Wesley didn’t know why, but he flipped open his sketchpad to the picture of the Reaper. His hand trembled as he brought the loose page closer to the spine. Wes could see a section had been removed, the jagged edges still visible. He moved the new picture up and down until it matched.
Wesley pushed himself away from the desk, how on earth had the pages come from his book? How had the man got them? Wesley couldn’t stop shaking, this was inconceivable. There had to be an explanation. He wasn’t going crazy, this was happening, and it was happening to him.
Luke flicked over the channels; every station seemed to interest him less. Property show, cooking programme, property show, do it yourself, another property show, oh another cooking show. He hissed at the screen angrily tossing the remote onto his bed. He ran his fingers through his hair and let out an anguished grunt. It wasn’t the broadcasters programming that was making him feel this way, it wasn’t helping but it wasn’t the cause. Luke knew what it was. He'd never fallen out with his friend in all the time they had known each other. Wesley must have had a reason not to tell him; perhaps it was serious or personal. After all Luke wasn’t shy on making jokes, perhaps Wes was worried he’d make fun of it all?
It had played on his mind all day. More so when he had avoided him, just like Darren. Could Luke really put himself in the same category as that moronic fool? Luke knew he had to make this right, instinctively he knew his friend was in trouble. He decided it was time to make peace and tell Wes, when he was ready to share, he would be happy to listen. Luke put his coat on and slipped down the stairs. He left unnoticed, not on purpose but purely by accident. The words sounded good in his head he thought, he just hoped they would sound equally as good when he said them out loud.