Deceive

Chapter 6

I hadn't been paying attention. I stopped. Rule #1 is DON’T STOP. I stopped. And Dylan paid the price for my insolence.

I hadn’t noticed the two men until too late. Until after Dylan and Betsy tried to warn me, until after Dylan was stabbed. Until after Dylan fell.

“Hope” Dylan said. I met his eyes, but something was wrong. I slid my eyes over his shoulder, to the man standing there with a maniacal smile cracking his face. Betsy left off the ground behind me and landed on top of another man that I hadn’t seen before. Dylan fell. And yet, I didn’t move.

It was the groaning noises that made me act. I screamed, in rage, in sadness. I screamed because this world was unfair, because someone I trust was being taken from me again. I screamed. And I lunged. The man's body was becoming stiff with old age, in his late 50’s his hair was mostly grey. He was startled by my action, scrambling for a knife that was still in Dylan’s side. Landing on top of him, I snaked my hands around his throat and squeezed. I didn’t let go. He tried to claw at my hands, his face turning red. He started kicking, bucking his hips, throwing his weight around. In response I dug my fingers into his grimy flesh. I felt his heartbeat in my palm. It was slowing, yet I didn’t stop. His body went limp in my hands but I didn’t let go. I waited until his sluggish heartbeat stopped.

I was heaving big breaths, my hands loosening from the man's neck. I just killed someone. Sitting up, I heard Betsy whining. Dylan! Betsy’s maw was red, a quick look at the other man’s body told me that Betsy knew how to use the deadly teeth she has. I kneel down in front of Dylan’s face, his eyes were filled with pain, but happiness shone through. Why the hell was he happy! Ignoring the crushing feeling in my heart. I looked over his body. The knife was still in, okay. Leave the knife in. It was just above his hip bone. Were there any organs in there? I didn’t know! I had learnt the basics of first aid when I was a child, the basics being what to do if you are stabbed and all your possessions are taken from you. I checked his heartbeat, slow but still there, he must have passed out from pain. Desperation had me looking to the sky for answers. The dull grey sky held no answers, nor did the trees around us. But the mansion back from the tree line might. Only, there was no way to drag Dylan’s vulnerable body all the way over there. Our bags! Whistling at Betsy I jerked my head in the direction of our bags. She dragged them over. Ripping open the first bag, I found my bandages and pain meds. If I take the knife out he’ll bleed out. An idea occurred to me. Fire. I quickly made a fire. I pulled Dylan’s blade out of his bag. I pushed my feelings to the back of my mind. Becoming devoid of emotions. I trust the knife into the flames. The blade was heating the air around it as I pulled it out. Lifting Dylan’s shirt, In one swift movement I pulled the knife out and slapped the other over his wound. The sizzling of Dylan’s flesh almost made me gag. I dressed the wound and put ointment on the burn.

Please don’t get infected. I knew that praying was worthless, people at the Caravan Park where I lived with my parents and Old Jeff, were religious. Said that God was punishing us. Said we would be allowed asylum if we proved ourselves worthy of God’s love. What makes one worthy, I wonder as I settle next to Dylan. I didn’t dare close my eyes. Not taking chances.

The sun is directly above us now, I need to get Dylan out of the sun. Hoisting the bugs onto my back I whistled at Betsy to help. We both dragged Dylan in the direction of the mansion. He was so freaking heavy, we stopped every little second so I could check his wound didn’t pull and he wasn’t bleeding out. The sun was setting when we finally reached the mansion. I layed Dylan on the floor of the foyer, propping his head up on a rolled up sleeping bag. I lay down next to him, stretching out, resting my hand on his arm.

“Please be okay.” I whisper, kissing his forehead. Tears blur my vision. Resting my rigid back, I black out.

I wake up, Dylan is still blacked out. I feel stupid for hoping he would wake up before me. Dylan stirrs, I freeze. His eyes move behind his eyelids. He doesn't wake up.

I let a breath of disappointment out. My stomach makes horrible noises, I need food.

I ate a tasteless meal of oats and water, my eyes tracking every sound outside of the door. The mansion was so big there are too many possibilities of people coming inside. Betsy is sitting beside me, her maw on my shoulder as if in comfort. It’s been 2 days, the sky turning golden as the second day ends. I turn away from the golden hues of the sunset. Focusing on the cold grey tile in front of me. I study the pattern in the tiles, which appapers to be no particular type, black lines like cracks run through the tiles. I follow one of the cracks all the way to the wall with my eyes. Anything to take my mind off Dylan's prone form behind me.

I hear a stirring behind me. I whip my head around so hard and fast it hurts. Dylan lets out a grunt as he tries to rise onto his elbows. I let out a cry, running toward him. Throwing my arms around his neck, careful not to hurt him. He immediately wraps his arms around me. I don’t know how long we stay like this but I don’t care. I lean back to look at him, there is only the faintest traces of pain on his face. A broad smile from him has my heart doing that weird thing again. He leans in slowly, resting his forehead on mine.

“Thank you” he whispers. Our breaths mingling and our lips a hair's breadth apart. I close the gap. Pressing my lips to his. I know this is a form of affection shown between a couple but I’ve never done it before. He kisses me back, slowly and affectionately, teaching me. I mimic him, creating our own rhythm as my heart speeds up and my stomach feels oddly pleasant. My brain is fried and making no sense at all as I kiss Dylan. And I can’t think of a moment when I was happier