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Authors: Anne Berkeley

BOOK: Feral
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“I
ammmmm
upstairs!”

After having given up, he stretched to look over his shoulder, and his hips pivoted, inadvertently
driving home.  I yelped over the unexpected incursion.  Icarus ground his teeth.

“Holy fuck
…Jesus….Ah Gods!”  Instinctively, his hips began pumping.  My knees clenched over his hips and my hands pushed against his chest, endeavoring to slow him down.

Too fast.  Way too fast.

He mistook this as a prompt to move deeper.  He pivoted his hips, eager to please.  My nails perforated his chest, my eyes widening and then pinching shut.  Wholly crap did it hurt!

The cold splash of water didn’t help either.  I squealed, hiding under Icarus’s weight, shivering from the chill of the water and the
cold attic room.  Icarus looked ready to tear Max limb from limb.  Withdrawing from me unceremoniously, he pulled the sheet over us.

Max stood at the top of the stairs, his back to us.  Despite this, he shielded his eyes, his dark curls hanging like a drape over his hand and face.  “I’m really,
really
sorry to have to interrupt.  But Thaleia’s parents’ house is on fire.”

Icarus slid from the bed, disregarding—as was I—the need for modesty.  After the scene, Max just witnessed, and the news he was bearing, my state of undress was
irrelevant.

“What happened?”

“Don’t know.  We couldn’t get close enough.  The police have everything blocked off.  Wouldn’t let us through.  I’ll um…I’ll wait in the car.  It’s running.”

I dressed perfunctorily, running through the possibilities. 
Naturally, none of them were good.  It was in my nature to think the worst.  When things went bad, they went bad in a big way.


It could’ve been a toaster fire.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to.  You’re white as a sheet.”

Grabbing my Beretta from my dresser drawer, I checked
the magazine then clipped the holster to the back of my pants.  I headed for the stairs.  Icarus grasped my arm as I walked past.  He meant to, but didn’t promise that everything would be fine.

I wish he lied.

The drive to my parent’s house was agonizing.  I could’ve run faster on foot.  I was stuck in the backseat of the Mustang, my knees crammed, my mind wandering.  You could think a million things during the course of a ten minute drive.  “God, please let it be a toaster fire.”

Icarus squeezed my hand in his
, equally lost.  “What?”

“Bennie has this Star Wars toaster that burns a silhouette of Darth Vader onto the bread.  Maybe you’re right.  It was a toaster fire.  The thing never worked right.”

Or maybe it was dad.  He liked to make these hash browns in the toaster.  They were so greasy they left puddles of oil on the counter.  I always thought they posed as much danger to the house as they did to his arteries.

I thought of the countless times I forgot to shut my straightening iron off before I left for school.  I’d come home to brown v’s burned into the white paint of my dresser.
  Bennie had started using a straightener.  It gave him these perfectly coiffed spikes that he tipped with blue chalk.  Perhaps he forgot to shut it off.

Perhaps mom was blending vegetables again as Bennie predicted.  Th
e blender we used at home was antiquated.  It always gave off a burnt rubber smell.  I was making pignoli cookies over the summer.  They called for almond paste.  Dad always liked it fresh, said it was the way his mother used to make it.  But the almonds tended to clump around the blades, and I swore I saw smoke.  I should’ve thrown it away, but mom was sentimental about the thing.

Max pulled next to the curb and shut the engine down.  I couldn’t see anything from the backseat. 
The fire trucks and the cars blocked the view, anyhow.  Icarus slid from the car and tilted the seat forward so that I could climb out.  I gave up trying to find a better vantage point—and unfolded myself from the backseat.  I nearly fell in my haste to exit the car, but Icarus caught my arm.  Once I gained my footing, I bolted, weaving through the crowd of bystanders, leaving Icarus and Max trailing after me.  I made it to the yellow police ribbon just as they wheeled out the first stretcher.  Strapped to it was a body bag, containing at least one of my parents.

I must’ve screamed, because everyone turned and
stared, but my eyes saw only the second stretcher roll out.  And then the third.  The ground quaked beneath my feet.  My whole body began to tremble.  The world tilted off its axis.  Icarus caught me as my legs gave out, sinking with me to the ground.  He cradled me in his lap, rocking me as I cried.

I was broken.  Irrevocably broken.  My world would never
again align.

 

 

Chapter 19

Icarus stood, lifting me with him as I watched them load the last stretcher into the coroner’s van.  He shifted my weight in his arms, and started for the car.  My head lay like a lead weight against his chest, temples damp and curling with tears.  My breaths came in sobs.

“He’s alone.” 
Bennie.  They’d taken my parents together in the first van.


He’s not alone.  He’s with your mom and dad.”


No.” I shook my head.  “He wouldn’t leave me alone.”  Never.  Wherever he was, he had to be scared.

“You’re not alone.  You have us.
  Bennie went somewhere better.”

Helping
me into the passenger’s seat of the Mustang, Icarus buckled me in and pressed a kiss to my forehead.  I sat motionless in the seat, my heart feeling like it shattered into a thousand jagged shards of glass.  I bled despair from every organ.  I heard of people dying from grief, but I had never thought of it as literal.  Now, I understood, implicitly.

I curled
up in the seat, leaning my head against the window, staring at the burned out frame of my home.  The second floor had collapsed, and the first floor was barely standing.  They’d died in there, my whole family.  They were gone.  I had no one left.  I was alone.

“You’re not alone,” Icarus repeated.  “You have us.”

Had I spoken aloud?

Max reached around the headrest and rubbed my shoulder.

A rap on the window gathered our attention.  It was Detective Gentry.  He gave up trying to see through the tinted windows and straightened, tugging the collar of his trench coat around his neck, hiding from the brisk December breeze.  His breath vaporized in fleeting white puffs.

“What does he want?” Lucius asked from the backseat.

I dropped my head against the window again, uninterested.

Rolling down the widow, a blast of cold air rolled through the car.  “Detective,” Icarus said, not
entirely courteous in tone.

“I’m sorry to have to do this now, but it would really help
to tie up the investigation here.”

“Investigation?” Icarus inquired.  “This wasn’t an accident?”

Interest piqued, I lifted my head, causing Detective Gentry to remove his hat, his expression sympathetic.  “Sorry for your loss, Miss Llorente.”

“Thank you.”

“The Fire Marshall will have to determine that,” Detective Gentry replied.  “We did find something raising suspicion, but it could just as easily be dismissed.  I hope you understand it’s routine to investigate all possibilities.”  Flipping to a fresh page in his notebook, he flattened the paper down and habitually licked the tip of the pencil.  “Do you know a Michael Dougherty?”

Icarus and I exchanged a look.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Detective Gentry observed.  “What relation is he to you?”

“He’s an ex-boyfriend of Thaleia’s
, but he harassed her for a while when she first transferred to Rock West.  They have it on file at the school.”

“Th
is the same boy from the altercation in November?”

“Yes,” Icarus answered.  “You think he’s responsible for this?”

“It’s weak, but it’s a motive.”  His eyes traveled to me.  “When was your last contact with him?”

“November,” I
answered, my voice small.  I was tired and numb.  “He never returned to school after his suspension.  There’re all sorts of rumors flying around that his parents sent him to military school or that they just flat out disowned him.  I don’t know what’s true.”

Detective Gentry deliberated, his lips pressed to a thin line.  “We found his cell in the hedges along the path.  On it, he had a video of the confrontation in the lunchroom someone messaged to him.  I need to investigate this further, but until then, take all precautions.
  If, indeed, he’s holding a grudge, and responsible here, he’s a dangerous individual.”

“Thank you, Detective.  Is that all?  I’d like to take Thaleia home.  As you can imagine it’s been a long day.  We have arrangements to make.”

Detective Gentry nodded.  “I have your number.  I’ll be in contact.”

I
closed my eyes, my thoughts returning to my parents and Bennie.  Beside me, the window rose with a whir.  Icarus shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb.  The burned out ruins of my parents’ house faded from my sight as we coasted down the street.

This time as Icarus drove me away, it was final. 
I had no home, no family to return to.  I hadn’t even the comfort of a phone call or text.  They were gone from my life forever.

No
kisses and hugs.  No I love yous.  No goodbyes.

“They’re here,” Icarus said, placing his hand over my heart.  I thought I had spoken again, murmuring my thoughts aloud, but it was my fresh bout of tears that alerted him to my
anguish.  “And here.”  He touched my temple gently with fingertips.  “You remember them, and they’ll always be with you.”

He
wiped at my face with his thumb then began rummaging the glove box.  “You got any tissues anywhere, Max?  Or at least a damn paper towel?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?  You always keep something in the car.  How many times have I told you?  For God’s sake, what do you do when you’ve gotta blow your nose?”

“You really don’t want to know,” Lucius muttered under his breath.

“I do not pick my nose!” Max said with umbrage.

“Bullshit!” Lucius argued.  “You’ve got a booger spot under the driver’s seat!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!  I suppose we should all be thankful you don’t just eat ‘em!”

“Never mind.  NEVER MIND!” Icarus shouted, raising his voice above the boy’s bickering.  They were only trying to ease my mind with their inanities but I was beyond consolation.  “We’ll be home in five minutes anyhow.”

Up ahead, the flashing red lights
of the train crossing vaguely caught my attention.  Icarus pulled to a stop, shifting the car into neutral as the boom gates dropped down, barricading the road.  The R5…

Disengaging my seatbelt, I reached for the door handle.  Icarus grasped my arm, his hand encompassing my bicep.  “Where’re you going?”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”  Jerking my arm from his grasp, I lunged for the door, throwing myself out of the car, and trotted toward the small path leading off the road and into the grass along the tracks.

“Thaleia!” Icarus called, following
me.  He wasn’t overly worried, just concerned.  I turned back holding up my index finger, hoping I could persuade him to stay with the car.

“Just a minute.”  I bent at the waist, watching the approach of the train through
my veil of hair.  It was hard to estimate.  I’ve never paid attention to the timing of the gate before.  How many seconds or minutes before the train reached the crossing?  The lights were visible.  Two at the top, above the door, and two at the bottom on either corner.  I could make out the front of the pilot car.  Maybe a good twenty or thirty seconds was all I needed.

I didn’t have thirty seconds.  I didn’t have
ten seconds.  Icarus was picking his way down the small path, overgrown with weeds and thorns.  I bolted.  If the train couldn’t make it to me, I would make it to the train.  I should’ve done it a long time ago.  But I had family then.

Now, I had nothing to hold me back.

I pushed myself, my legs eating the ground below me.  My arms pumped furiously at my sides, my toes springing off the ground, sprinting like a gazelle.  My feet occasionally scrabbled on the rocks below, but I had a good lead.  I had years of stamina and experience running.

I could feel the vibrations in the ground below, the faint rumble of the train as
we converged on one another.  The grasses swayed alongside the tracks like warning flags.

My throat felt raw
and my ears numb with cold, but it would be over soon.  I would feel no more pain.  I would cease to exist, freed from this baneful reality.  I would be with Bennie and my parents.  We would be a family again.

The train sounded its horn, warning
of its approach. The engineer could see me now.  The noise was strident to my sensitive ears.  It was like horns pealing as the gates of heaven opened, welcoming me home.

So close.

I could hear Icarus behind me, feet pounding frantically at the ground.  He grunted with effort.  Where grief drove me, panic and adrenaline aided him.

No matter. 
He was out of time.  I closed my eyes and embraced the end.

It hit like a freight train.  Pain exploded behind my eyes, my neck snapping back as I tumbled to the ground.  My teeth ground together.  The breath exploded from my lungs, rushing forth with a
n ‘oomph.’  My arms and legs sprawled in every direction, bending and grinding against the stones.  They dug at my flesh, tearing and scraping the skin from my bones.

Then everything was still.  I felt like a lead weight rested atop me.  I could hear the train as it rumbled and rattled down the tracks, its horn streaming one long
, admonishing blast.

Everything fell silent, except the beating of my heart, and the rhythmic
whoosh of my lungs.  I wasn’t dead.  I knew that much.  But perhaps I was fatally wounded, and dying.  I couldn’t feel my arms or legs.  There was no pain.  I took it as a sign that I was in shock.

Opening my eyes, I found Icarus sprawled over me
.

I sucked a
breath, choking on a sob.


Jesus freakin’ Christ!” Icarus exclaimed, climbing off me.  He busied himself, checking my limbs for injuries.  “What the hell are you doing!  Are you fucking insane!”

“No!” I shouted, curling in on myself.  “
I just want to die!  Why didn’t you just let me die?  Why?”  That’s all I wanted.  I wasn’t asking for much.  He didn’t have to lift a finger.  He had to do precisely the opposite.  As he grasped my arm and pulled it straight, I jerked it back and slapped his hand away from me.

“Because I love you.”

“I hate you!”

Sighing, he sat beside me, resting his hand on my shoulder
, his chest heaving with exhaustion.  “I know how you feel, Thaleia.  I’ve lost ones I love too.”

“You don’t know shit!  You still have brothers left!  I have no one!”

“You’re right.  I’m sorry.  And I know it’s not the same, but you have us.”

Max and Lucius crested the small rise, crossing over the metal tracks.  Lucius saw us first, slowing, the
chinking sound of stones grating under his feet.  Max reached us shortly after, bending with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

“Is…she…ok?” Max panted.

“She’s alive,” Icarus replied.  “Can you walk?” he inquired, patting my hip.  “Or do you need me to carry you back to the car?”

I grumbled, swatting his hand away again.
  “Leave me here.  I’ll wait for the next train.”

“I think she’s serious,” Lucius
observed.  “She really wants to die.”

I
did.  I really did.

“We can’t wait here until she changes her mind
,” Icarus qualified.  “Septa’s most likely already called the authorities, and we need to move the car.  We’re blocking traffic.”

Standing, he stretched, cursorily examining his own injuries and
then reached to lift me off the ground.  I grumbled irascibly and swatted him away once again.

“I can walk.”

I stood ungracefully and brushed myself off.  Shock was wearing off.  My bumps and bruises were already making themselves known.  Much slower than our trip down, we made our way back up the tracks to where the car idled, doors jutting open on the road.

Despite my protests, Icarus took my hand, holding onto it firmly,
interlocking his fingers between mine.  I thought he might crush my fingers in his grip, but whether it was fear or affection behind his force of strength, I didn’t know.  I wished it were my neck in his hands.

Reaching the car, he pushed the passenger seat forward and stepped aside. 
He was relegating me to the backseat, discouraging any thoughts of a repeat venture.  Glowering, I folded myself into the car, squeezing into the small space acting as my makeshift prison.

Max, take the back,” Icarus directed.  “Lucius, you’re driving.”  Icarus dropped into the passenger seat in front of me, exhaling heavily.  He rubbed his face and ran his hand through his hair, wiping away the remnants of my ventures.  “Stop at the pharmacy
on the corner.”

“For what?”

“So I can get something to help Thaleia sleep.”

Maybe if I could get a hold of the bottle, I could accomplish what I really wanted.  It certainly wasn’t sleep.
  Not unless it was my last sleep.  My final rest.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Max asked.  Sitting in the seat next to me,
he stared like I was the pariah.  “She might swallow the whole bottle.”

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