No Strings Attached

Chapter 15

No Strings Attached

XV

Miranda lost her footing when she reappeared and ended up falling on her knees. Blood from the wound on her ear dripped down onto the floor. Being reminded of its existence, it suddenly started to hurt again. Fear was more prominent than the ache, though, and she quickly returned to her feet and observed her surroundings. Pudge was being help to his feet by Carrie, while Isaiah appeared still frozen over the previous incident. Thomas was right by Miranda's side and latched himself onto her. She returned the gesture out of instinct.

It looked as though they ended up in a library of sorts, with large bookshelves against every wall. She watched as Isaiah rounded the corner of the room and disappeared out of sight. It probably wasn't the best idea, but she wasn't interested in going after him. Instead her attention went to Carrie and Pudge, as the girl helped him onto a lounge chair nearby. Miranda wanted to help him, but she figured after beating his face in he probably wanted nothing to do with her.

Her mind went to the room they were in and began to search for anything dangerous. There was never a chance to truly relax. Thomas must have sensed her tense up. He said, "We're okay." She looked at him, confused by his sudden words. He explained, "It's a reward. We'll be okay for tonight."

His voice was low, full of and fright and sorrow. Tears were ready to fall in his eyes but he held them back. It was a reminder that Thomas had lived through this hellish house long enough to understand how to play the game. In some ways, they owed Isaiah; not just for saving their life, but also for giving them a chance to rest. Still, the payment for their prize was the life of another child – that would never be an easy thing for any of them to grasp.

Thomas's voice was just loud enough for Carrie and Pudge to hear. For a moment all they did was stare blankly at each other, neither willing to acknowledge the statement. Isaiah came to the rescue when he reappeared from around the corner and said, "Hey, you probably need this." In his grasp was a medium sized first aid kit, which Carrie hesitantly accepted.

As Isaiah walked away, off to observe more of the room, Pudge said, "You don't have to do that." Carrie said nothing, and instead began to carefully peel away the blood soaked sheet that had been used as a bandage on his damaged arm. Eye contact was never made as she tenderly worked on cleaning the swollen wounds, careful not to hurt him more than he already was. A very small smile graced her lips, although the tint of sorrow that had constantly covered her face was still present. Being of help brought her joy. He said, "So, we're alright now?"

It took a bit for her to process what exactly he meant by those words. Nobody was "alright" at that house. Nobody would be "alright" for some time after, if they ever escaped. "Alright" was a term that hadn't been in her vocabulary for a long time. It didn't fit who she was, it didn't fit her predicament, and it didn't seem like the direction she was headed was anything close to "alright." Yet right there in that moment, that very heartbeat, that simple breath she took, she was perfectly calm and in control.

Suddenly she realized she had stopped her care of him as she processed his question. Back to work she went on his wound when she answered, "You've been there for me since I've met you. So. Yeah. I guess we're alright now. I'm sorry if I was weird or awkward earlier."

Again, there was no eye contact, not even for a fleeting second. Pudge didn't need it. He understood her perfectly. "It's fine. How else were you supposed to feel? But don't worry. No matter what, we're getting out of her."

This time, she looked into his eyes. His words were full of conviction and righteousness, his tone nearly begging for her agreement. A few seconds passed – maybe five, maybe ten – before either of them moved again. The small smile she had been daring to show grew just enough for it to shine, yet still her eyes threatened to drop tears. Quickly, she turned her head back toward the task at hand.

On the other side of the room, Isaiah had plopped himself down in a chair and observed the exchange with mild interest. He got along with Pudge but he didn't particular like the kid and at this point, his relationship with his cousin was so broken he doubted there would ever be a full repair. Mixed feelings about the budding friendship between the two of them arose but were quickly overtaken once another thought entered his head.

He's not going to last much longer, he thought. Pudge had been fighting an illness for a couple of hours now and was just growing weaker. The pale face covered in sweat, the purplish lips, and the violent quakes his body would display were enough to make just how ill he was evident. Isaiah tried to determine a cause but never reached a conclusion. An infection, maybe? But that fast? That violent? I don't think it's possible, he thought. It didn't matter, he realized, as there was nothing any of them could do at that point.

Someone walked in front of him and his eyes instinctively followed. It was Miranda. He watched as she reached the corner of the room, where it parted off into another section. She poked her head around the wall but didn't take the corner. There's nothing there, anyway, he thought as he remembered his own journey there. Aside from the oddly placed first aid kit, there was an empty desk and a radio. Nothing of use, nothing of interest.

Something must have caught her eye as she decided to disappear to that wing of the room. Isaiah kept his eyes over there, curious to see how long she would last.

Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.

Isaiah's thumb went to his wristwatch and shut off the midnight alarm. It was officially Saturday. Happy birthday, dad.

"Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain, telling me just what a fool I've been – "

The sound of a broken song struggling to play out through beaten and cracked speakers tickled Isaiah's ears. It seemed distant although he knew it was coming from just around the corner. Goosebumps peppered his forearms and a shiver ran up his spine. The last time he had heard that song his dad was singing along to an old record. It was one of his dad's favorite songs. What were the odds for that one piece of music to play at midnight?

It changed abruptly, the crackling sound of the dial turning interrupting Isaiah's memories. The radio stopped at the next station that came in, sending a new tune throughout that small room. It was a song that Isaiah didn't recognize. It was clear that Pudge did, as Isaiah watched him shoot up from the couch he laid on and stood rigid as though he'd just heard the voice of a ghost.

"Fear not, I am with thee; oh be not dismayed – "

"This… this song! What the hell?!"

Carrie gently made Pudge sit back down onto the couch. With no strength in his body, Pudge had to comply. Isaiah grew weary of sitting and watching them so he stood and decided to see what Miranda was up to. The song was interrupted as the dial was changed once more, a fresh tune polluting the air. When he peeked around the corner he saw Miranda; she had just taken a step back from the radio, seemingly content with the strange station she had landed on.

Isaiah approached her silently as he allowed the old timey song to wash over him. It was upbeat and easy to follow, although probably older than his grandparents. In fact, it was starting to grow on him as it peeled apart his memory banks and sought a moment in time he could barely recall. He wasn't sure what came over him, but before he could think his hand reached out to grab her.

"Ahh!" she screeched at the sudden movement. Awkwardly he pulled her along in a sloppy waltz that barely fit the music. The rapid beating of her heart caused by the scare started to slow when she saw him smile at her.

"Railroad, steamboat, river and canal; yonder comes a sucker and he's got my gal. And he's gone, gone, gone –"

"Your singing is terrible," she joked

"Better than your dancing."

"I hope my dancing is at least better than my kissing."

Isaiah groaned and winced, "I thought I apologized already."

"You did. But I won't forget it anytime soon."

"The kiss or the insult?"

She didn't answer.

The song ended and the same old time country station kept playing music. Without thought he adjusted their tempo to match the beat but he was still fairly terrible at keeping pace. For a moment he allowed his guard to fall as he forgot about everything around them and everything they had been through. The cold feeling of the gun in his hand before he shot that innocent child left him as did all the pain his body had been desperately trying to fight off. He was at peace.

"A knight without armor in a savage land; his fast gun for hire heeds the calling wind. A soldier of fortune –"

"Why did you pick this station?" he asked. Absentmindedly, his finger went to the cut on her ear where a bullet had grazed her. The blood was drying but a fresh droplet had formed. He wiped it away.

The gesture caused her to shiver. An answer to his question never came. Instead, she said, "Are you alright?"

It took everything he had not to trip himself over the inquiry. In his head, he thought about how dumb the question was. Nobody was alright, hadn't she figured that out yet? Something in her voice and her eyes prevented him from saying that, however. He realized the question was intended for him alone; that her worry and fears in that moment were reserved for him and him only.

She continued, "Sorry. It's okay if you can't answer. You really did save us back there. I'm sure it's not easy. But… I'm here if you need anything, okay? If you need to talk or whatever. I'll always be there."

There was no way for him to properly answer, so he just smiled and said, "Likewise." It was a lie. He knew that and he felt confident she knew that, too. Nobody was going to "always" be there for anyone. Nobody could be there if "anything" was needed. They were just humans; mortal and with very limited powers. The cracks in their thin armor were spreading rapidly under the pressure of that disturbed funhouse.

"Hey, it's your dad's birthday."

The cheery tone she managed to have coupled with the largest smile he'd ever seen sent his heart aflutter. It took a few steady breaths for him to react. He returned the smile and said, "Yours, too." The song changed once more and he knew he should have just let her go right then. Yet instead he pulled her closer. Per usual, she didn't react much.

"Let's share all the time we can before it's too late – "

Suddenly, she planted her feet firmly on the ground and his swaying was halted. Warmth from her arms tickled his torso and she embraced him. It was a tight hug and he returned it just as fiercely. Her entire body shook and he felt confident it was only his arms that held her together. He'd thought her sudden violent outburst against Pudge was just one time occurrence, but maybe she really was ready to crack.

Against his chest she asked, "If we'd met any other time – any other way – we'd have been close friends, huh?"

"Yeah," he answered as he squeezed her even harder. "Real close."

That was it. She broke down. For the first time she started to cry. The feeling of her tears soon met with the sound of her soft whimpers. Helpless, Isaiah could only keep his arms locked around her. He wasn't going to let her go. Soon, he felt tears stain his cheeks, too.