Dante finally caved. “Seriously, Briggs. You need to learn to relax.”
“I can relax.”
Dante stared after him in disbelief. “I feel like your version of relaxing is murdering puppies in your sleep.”
“Ha ha,” Briggs said with a smirk then, “I think you should be taking your own advice, my friend.”
Dante stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Briggs just gave him a look. “Sure. Don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret nice and safe. I have a thing for secrets.”
Dante didn’t respond, just stared back at him. Then he exhaled sharply, almost in defeat. He moved and sat next to Briggs. Briggs in return gave him a few pats on the back while the two sat on in silence.
I was invading their privacy, and felt the need to leave, so I went back to the wall separating Briggs and my room and tried the same thing as before: I closed my eyes, pressed my palms against the surface, and waited.
When I opened my eyes I was back in the safety of my room. I turned and stared hard at the wall before me. This wasn’t normal. Not everyone could just walk through walls like it was an everyday occurrence. Something was off—I was off.
I didn’t know this world that I was in, and I didn’t know who or what I was. I didn’t know what Briggs and Dante were talking about, and I didn’t know why I couldn’t remember anything. But I knew one thing for certain.
I would soon find out.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT HAD BEEN exactly one week since I was first discovered. Five days since I found out my talent for walking through walls.
A routine began to take place with the five of us in this short time. It was like I had always been here, and sometimes it was nice to forget that I had no past at all.
Of course, I never told anyone about this new secret of walking through walls. As Briggs had mentioned to Dante, this apartment seemed to be a place full of secrets. So I would keep this one to myself. That night had been the only time I used this ability of mine.
Amy and I always stayed within the apartment, either Dante or Kaede with us while the other worked. I learned through their many discussions that the two worked shifts in a restaurant, both as chefs. Of course, business was slow with the kidnappings, multiple female bodies being discovered in the city, and just overall chaos that the world seemed to be experiencing at this precise moment—people feared eating out. But it would have to make do.
Amy actually had an online business making made-to-order cupcakes from scratch. She was saving up to attend university. She would get orders from the Internet and make whatever they asked for, whether that be vanilla or red velvet cupcakes. I became a taster of her treats and found they were quite delicious; my favorite was her mint chocolate. I even began helping Amy with making the orders, getting everything prepped, even learning how to crack an egg, although it took a few tries before I mastered the task.
So we all seemed to have a role. Except for Briggs. Yes, when the time came, he would venture out to buy the necessary groceries and miscellaneous things that needed to be bought, but that seemed to be all—everything else was a mystery to me. I watched them all and found that Briggs was secretive: he would leave for hours on end, no one knowing where he went. What I found strange was that no one seemed to be curious or even care about his endeavors except for me—they seemed to accept his comings and goings as if they were normal.
He wasn’t as cruel, mean, as he was in the beginning. His mood had seemed to calm down a bit, his frown replaced with a complacent look. When he stared at me, I don’t think it was with hatred, but blatant oddity about what to make of me. He and I seemed almost alike as he inspected me like some sort of lab experiment, wondering what the results would be.
Would I thrive in this new environment or perish?
I would always feel his eyes on me. Whenever I would look into his face (of course, with my reflection staring back at me through his sunglasses) he didn’t look away. Instead, he continued to stare until it was I who looked away.
I realized then that I really was beginning to develop emotions—almost like I was learning them all over again. I had curiosity down, a twinge of guilt, slight frustration. But now I felt something else.
Apprehension.
The gnawing at the back of my head wouldn’t go away and I was almost desperate to feed my curiosity. So of course, when I received the chance to answer the question that is Briggs, there was only one option.
I took it.
For some reason I couldn’t sleep that night. When I heard the creak of a bedroom door hit my ears, I had a feeling it would be Briggs. I waited a few seconds, then flicked the sheet away from my body and gingerly stepped down onto the cool wooden floor. I decided now might be the perfect time to use my newfound abilities again, so I pressed my hands and head against the door. I took a deep breath then braced myself as I slowly moved my head through the surface. My head popped on the other side just in time to see the front door closing behind Briggs. Without hesitation, I transferred the rest of my body though the door, grabbed a jacket that has been flung over the couch, and slipped my bare feet into the pair of shoes Dante had bought for me. Rushing up the metal rungs, I ran though the front door, stepping out into the main hallway.
I was definitely getting the hang of this.
As soon as I looked down the hallway, Briggs turned a corner and I jogged down the hall, following suit. He took the stairs, going through the exit door, so I carefully walked through the door to the stairwell.
I was on the sixth floor.
I stayed back from Briggs by two flights of stairs, staying against the wall so he wouldn’t see me. There were times when I thought he had spotted me, for I heard his steps slow. I imagined him looking up, wondering if another person was with him, so I slowed my steps as well, waiting for him to begin walking again.
I finally reached the first floor and walked through the door that led me outside. It was becoming instinctive now. The more I did it, the more my body seemed to feel light, more alive in some way.
The sudden rush of wind that hit my body surprised me and I was glad I had the jacket. I wrapped myself tightly with it, burrowing my fingers inside the long sleeves. Breathing in the strong air, I looked ahead to see that Briggs had crossed the street and walked diagonally across a grassy surface.
Even from this distance, and with the night as dark as it was, I could see his feet shuffling into the earth. I followed him a distance away, wondering where he was heading, and almost regretting coming out in the first place with the knowledge of some unknown abductor lurking in the shadows. I knew it was a foolish thing to do but wanting to know where Briggs left to go on a nightly basis was the only thing I could think of.
The open grass field led to a pathway with a steep hill. Upon seeing the view on the other side, I stopped suddenly. There were rows upon rows of headstones laid atop the cool grass. As I continued to stare at the peculiar view in front of me, I realized that I was looking at a burial ground.
“What are you doing here?”
I gave a start at the deep voice that had rumbled close to my ear and looked to my left to see Briggs standing casually beside me. Of course I didn’t speak a word. I stared back at him, squeezing my lips tightly together.
He glanced at my mouth. “Of course—you can’t answer me. Didn’t we tell you it was unsafe for you to go outside?” His gaze flicked away and he looked back toward the burial grounds. I stared at his somber profile, my eyes moving down his forehead, along the length of his straight nose, settling onto his lips. They moved in the shadows, his voice reverberating in my chest.
“It’s especially unsafe for someone like you. You know … not being able to call out for help. You’d find yourself in a little pickle, wouldn’t you, Mia?”
I knew he was deliberately trying to frighten me as he looked back, waiting for my reaction. I gave him nothing, staring into his sunglasses, and wondered briefly how he could see in the dark. He almo
st seemed disappointed by my lack of response. Sighing, he eyed me once more.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Briggs gestured toward me to follow and walked down the steep hill. “Since you followed me all the way here, you might as well come and take a look.”
Briggs turned and kept walking away. I hesitated for a moment, then began to follow him into the dark night, silent except for the steps that our shoes made. Once we made it to the bottom of the hill, I was astonished by what I saw. The burial ground was massive, with hundreds and hundreds of tombstones lined up row-by-row, one after the other.
“This is an old graveyard,” Briggs’ voice murmured in my ear next to me. “Nowadays people are buried at the newer cemetery. But with all the deaths that have been occurring as of late, they’ve had to resort to burying the overflow of bodies here.”
My eyes went to where he pointed. There, off to the side, I could clearly see the fresh grass that had been planted, distinguishing itself from the older burials. I impulsively stepped toward the newer tombstones and read the names of the newly deceased.
Emily Jones
Veronica Montgomery
Pilar Dunham
There were more names. I paused as I began to count the lives that were all recently lost. Twenty-four in total, all killed within the past six months. I didn’t know them, but for some reason I felt a connection to each and every one of them.
I wondered why Briggs was here. I turned back to look at him. He hadn’t moved a step and I seemed to have caught his gaze behind his shades as we stared at one another, both of us unable to speak. Then he broke the silence.
“You’re wondering why I’m here, aren’t you?”
I gave a small nod, wanting him to continue. I waited patiently.
“Someone’s gotta put them in the ground.”
It was unexpected, but I didn’t flinch. Instead, I found a bench and sat there in silence watching Briggs dig, dig, and dig, deep within the soil. I wondered if the others knew about his late-night profession. For some reason, I knew that this wasn’t the secret that he had been referring to. As I continued to watch Briggs, his muscles shifted underneath his clothes with his methodical movements and I stared, unblinking.
He paused after a moment and looked up at me, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. I wanted to ask him why he was still wearing his sunglasses in the middle of the night, but of course I couldn’t pose the question. So instead I just sat there ever so still and he finally looked away and continued back with his duties.
I wondered where the body was.
That was answered as Briggs left, going into a building and then coming back with...
I looked down, not wanting that vision of death to be engrained in my mind. I swallowed, trying to think of something else: strawberry jam, smiling dimples, and an ocean sea of blue. But it proved to be difficult. I learned through this exercise that I didn’t like death.
It was all so … final.
Glancing up again, I was pleased to see that I couldn’t see the body. Briggs was closing up the hole, piles of dirt going in one by one.
When he was done, he brushed his hands together.
“I guess we should head back.” He didn’t wait and started to wander off but stopped when he noticed I hadn’t moved. He approached closely, realizing what had captured my attention.
I was staring at a headstone. Quite sad, actually; it really wasn’t much of a headstone, only a white cross stuck into the ground.
Briggs remained silent before speaking. “It’s what we do for the unknowns.” Then he walked off and there was nothing for me to do but follow. As we walked back toward the apartment, a single thought ran through my head.
Wasn’t I an unknown?
•••
BRIGGS ACTED AS if nothing were out of the ordinary, as if we hadn’t spent that night outside together, as if he hadn’t told me about his secret profession as a gravedigger. It wasn’t much of a secret since he hadn’t asked for my silence.
Although it was not like I could tell anyone.
After we came back together to the apartment, he almost acted like the first moment that we had met, like I had gotten under his skin and he wanted to stay far away from me as possible.
That was fine by me.
I went to bed and woke up as normal. I spent time with the others, watched television with Amy and Kaede, etcetera, etcetera. I spent most of my time with Dante, actually. It was like we had a connection of sorts. I had no idea of the reason. Maybe it was because he was the first person I’d seen when my eyes opened for the first time. For whatever reason, I felt most comfortable with him. We would play games—he had taught me how to play chess, checkers and a slew of card games, talking as if we were both involved in the conversation instead of only one-sided. He was like his sister in that way.
There were even times when he said absolutely nothing and we would sit together in silence, both comfortable by the lack of words.
That changed today.
“I like you,” he blurted out unexpectedly. We were playing chess, something that I had seemed to inherently know how to play. Dante couldn’t understand why I kept winning against him. I looked up from the chessboard, saw him run his fingers through his hair, and his cheeks suddenly became red.
It was quite alarming how red.
Then he did something that surprised me even more. He took a hold of my hand and gave a tight, reassuring squeeze, smiling all of a sudden, his voice a little lower, husky. “And I really, really, would like to kiss you right now.”
He slowly removed his hand from mine and brought it up to my face, caressing my cheek with the pad of his thumb. It burned a line where he touched me and I in turn felt my face beginning to heat up by his focus on me. His thumb then moved over my lips and I took an intake of breath, enjoying the feeling of our connection. It felt familiar, like a long ago memory. My mind went back to an image I had watched on the television screen, a girl and boy embracing one another, their lips joined together.
Lips.
My gaze went to Dante’s lips and I slowly saw his face become closer and closer to mine. I was interested—no, more than interested—in what it would be like to be joined like that, and my eyes instinctively closed as I waited.
And waited.
My eyes flickered open to see what had stopped Dante, and I frowned slightly. I looked at Dante’s face and saw that his attention was no longer on me at all but on something else, something behind me. I turned my head.
Briggs was standing as still as a statue by the kitchen entrance. For some reason I wasn’t surprised to see him there, as he looked intimidatingly at the both of us and I wondered what he was thinking in that moment.
Then I wondered why I cared at all.
Glancing back at Dante, I saw him staring at me. “Sorry,” he whispered. I gave a slight nod and stood up to retreat to my room. Passing Briggs, he stood ever so still and I thought I heard a sound coming from him, an inhalation of breath, as if scared that I would accidentally touch him as I passed by. But that couldn’t be.
What would Briggs have to be scared of?
In the safety of my room, I sat on the edge of my bed, frowning. I was confused—so, so confused—by the emotions that these men in my life were pulling out from me. I liked Dante, I connected with Dante, and I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss Dante. But I feared Briggs, almost as much as he seemed to be scared of me.
What was he so fearful of?
I pulled back the collar of my shirt and stared heatedly at the tattooed name on my skin. Ethan. Who the hell was Ethan, and what connection did he have to me? Because more than anything, I think I needed him.
Something told me that only he could make all this confusion go away.
CHAPTER SIX
DANTE KEPT GIVING me looks as the days went on and I didn’t know what to make of it. Yes, I was curious about how his lips would feel against mine, but that thought completely disappeared as my mind kept going back to Brig
gs.
Why did he seem scared by my presence? Am I just reading him incorrectly?
I kept telling myself this answer wasn’t important. I tried to ignore the almost helpless sound that had come from him and focused on things that were less confusing, like Dante.
Or so I thought.
It was just like any other day. Kaede was away working a late shift, Amy was intently playing some game on her phone in her room, and Dante and I hung out in the living room. The television was just background noise as I watched him watching me, his gaze moving across my face.
His eyes reminded me so much of what, I imagined, an ocean would look like. They got darker and darker the more they looked at me, and I marveled at the fact that they were now a stormy blue. I knew he wanted to continue what had been interrupted between us days ago.
And despite the name of a person flashing through my mind, I let him.
His lips felt strange against mine, like an alien impression. I was left in a state of almost wild fascination as my body instinctively pulled back, a small frown forming on my face as my mouth left his. I touched my lips, confused.
Again, why did this very moment seem so familiar?
Dante licked his lips slowly as he stared over at me sheepishly, a tinge of red flooding his cheeks.
“Sorry,” he said as he ran his hand over his face. “I shouldn’t have done that, Mia, but I really wanted to, I’ll be honest. I like you.”
I slowly brought my fingertips to my lips again as I grazed the sensitive skin, trying to analyze what had just happened.
It tingled.
I obviously knew he was waiting for some kind of response even though I couldn’t respond verbally. I didn’t know what to do. I like you too, Dante, I wanted to say back.
But something felt wrong.
A noise caused me to look up and I saw Briggs looking at me, again almost accusingly, a few feet away. It was like a repeat of days before: I had no idea how long he had been standing there, what he must have seen. But that almost hurt look on his face quickly disappeared as he stared coldly at the both of us before roughly stalking away.
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