INK: Blue (INK Trilogy Book 3) (13 page)

BOOK: INK: Blue (INK Trilogy Book 3)
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People did strange things when the world collapsed. Edsel knew that countless people who'd survived the first wave of Lethargy ended up insane, unable to cope with their new reality, the loss of loved ones, the emptiness — the quiet.

This man would have been in his fifties when everything changed. He could have had a family, a nice life, grandchildren, maybe been retired, spending time on the golf course or tending his garden. He was obviously well spoken, strictly middle to upper-class, so could have been used to a very comfortable life, the sudden change too much for him, breaking him or slowly warping his mind. Who knew what had happened to him? Edsel didn't really care. All he knew was that the man clearly thought of him as someone worth pursuing if he had the chance, and must have tracked them all those years ago, maybe even watching them set off in the boat, traveling and exploring, honing his craft and hoping that one day Edsel would return.

That all sounds stupid. This isn't right; none of it makes sense.

Could it really have just been a happy coincidence that he happened to be in the town where Edsel returned to, or was it something more?

Coincidence, must be. Well, he could have been miles away if he could sense me though, then just made his way to the town before we arrived. Or he just happened to have been there already. He said he set up in nice apartments in countless other towns over the years, so maybe it was all a total coincidence and everything else he'd said was a lie to hide whatever the truth really was.

But did it matter? He had his family. He'd taken them and he'd given him Ink and drugged him for what could have been weeks, all for some sick and twisted game.

It made no sense, but so little did. People went completely off the rails when their lives changed so dramatically, and it was next to impossible to not let it effect you deeply, challenge your view of the world then come out unscathed.

I certainly haven't. This is the third time I've had one weird form of Ink or another now. Four if you count the black that Lash did. At least that didn't do anything weird to me; just ink.

Edsel looked down at his arms and chest, the strange complex lines almost alive they looked so bright — it was unnerving yet fascinating at the same time. As if he could get lost in the patterns, or they had a tale to tell if only he stared long and hard enough. The Ink was like a true second set of veins, although he knew they weren't. The blue shone proudly over his mottled skin, the lines, thick and thin, tough to the touch like the countless scars he already had — there was no doubt Michael was skilled.

What didn't really make much sense was the why of it all. Although if he thought about The Eventuals then they were just as crazy. Michael just wanted to belong, make himself belong, force his way in, so his special form of Ink was an extension of that. A way for him to get literally under the skin of people, put a piece of him inside his victims — it had worked.

There was a kind of nagging at the back of Edsel's consciousness, not quite a direct communication but certainly a connection, he could sense Michael there somehow, like when he felt Aiden and Lash strongly in The Noise.

Well, whatever. Who cares? He's mad, dangerous, and he has my family. That's all I need to know, all I care about. The rest I can live with. Hopefully.

Edsel drove on, thankful that at least he'd been mostly unaware of the pain and the healing process of his latest Ink, something he was grateful for, even though it meant he had left Lash and Aiden alone for days. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to them, what Michael had done to them.

Hopefully nothing. The odd thing is I think he kept them safe. After all, he is a gentleman, if a little warped. A little! Haha.

The major puzzle was what on earth did Michael actually want? And why the hell was their first encounter with another person in so long such a disaster? Edsel could get paranoid if it wasn't for the fact that people really were out to get him.

Trees blurred into a constant background of green as the van chewed up the miles, never gaining, yet never actually losing Michael either. Edsel grew thirsty, his lips cracked, the effects of so many days in the sun drying his skin, making it a taut shroud that let the blue shine through in stark contrast to not only his old Ink but the red of the sunburn, a mess of primary colors, some permanent, others that would fade soon enough.

Next time wear sunscreen. Haha. Keep it together Edsel, don't crack up now.

Edsel drove on, his mind threatening to revert to madness. He had to cling to sanity for dear life, laughter waiting to bubble to the surface and leave him lost. He fought it and won.

I'm going to get you.

 

~~~

 

Time passed; the chase continued.

Michael showed no signs of stopping and Edsel kept glancing nervously at the fuel gauge. He was still almost half full but knew that if they kept going all day then he would have to try to find more, and without a hose to siphon it from another vehicle he was going to be in serious trouble.

Just keep going, he might be in the same position.

Edsel doubted it, but anything could happen. Maybe the road would be blocked? They'd had an awfully long run so far, and Michael's luck had to change soon.

As the day drifted past like a dream, Edsel tried to formulate some kind of a plan. But it was impossible to plan when he didn't know what was going to happen. Had Michael shot his family? Were they right now just dead in the back of the car, heads lolling forward, eyes devoid of life? What would Edsel actually do if Michael did just stop? After all Michael had a gun and was clearly willing to use it if he was up for kidnap and the weird torture he'd inflicted on him.

Don't think, just drive.

The day wore on...

 

 

 

 

STOP

Edsel slammed on the brakes, forgetting to put the car into neutral, so it stalled as he jumped out and ran around to the front. Luckily, the bucking had only shifted it forward a short distance so he hadn't run over whatever it was that had just tumbled from the car, although the sick feeling in his stomach as he saw the back door open, and what looked like a body jump out, made him know deep down that it was Lash.

Has he let her go? Did she escape? Is she alive? Has he dumped her broken body?

Edsel held his breath as he ran around to the front, fearing the worst, blue Ink pulsing erratically as his heart stuttered, rhythm interrupted by fear and the sudden burst of movement.

It's her, it's her.

"Lash? Lash, are you okay?"

Edsel stared down at her, hair matted over her face, dirty and unwashed, her clothes the same, cut and full of holes where she'd tumbled across the ground, hitting patches of asphalt between clumps of grass. Her limbs were bloody and grazed, one deep gash along her arm slicing her bright designs clear through the middle. But she was breathing, if raggedly, and as he spoke she turned over slowly, moaning and moving a bleeding hand to the back of her head.

"Jumping from a car really hurts, even if you do land on grass," she complained.

She is, she's alive.

"I can't believe it, it's you. It's really you."

"Well who else would it be? Here, give me a hand up. We have to go after them, that man is completely insane. Oh my god, he was telling the truth. Look at you, look at your face."

For a split second Edsel had actually forgotten about his Ink, oblivious to just how he must look — his crazy blue markings fighting for dominance against the tender sunburned flesh.

"Yeah, I know. There's no getting away from The Ink apparently. But look, I don't know if you should move, you might have internal bleeding. You're supposed to keep people's spines stiff after an accident, you could get paralyzed."

"We haven't got time to worry about any of that, have we? I'm okay, I'm sure. Come on, help."

Edsel grabbed Lash under the arms as gently as he possibly could, careful to avoid any obvious injuries, and helped her to her feet. She gasped in pain but stayed upright, a hand to her ribs indicating they were either broken or badly bruised.

She's lucky they weren't going too fast or she could be dead. I could have run her over.

"Let me look," said Edsel, as he lifted her vest.

There was a large blue bruise that hopefully indicated the ribs weren't cracked, but it was impossible to tell. Edsel gasped as he caught sight of her bare midsection. God how he missed the feel of her skin on his hands. He inspected her carefully but quickly, pleased to note the bruise seemed to be the only injury on her torso, the rest were on her arms and legs — scraped badly but nothing that wouldn't heal naturally.

"What happened? What's going on? Is Aiden all right? How did you get out of the car?"

"I'll tell you all about it in the... camper van?" said Lash, turning to look at the vehicle. "Are you out of fuel?"

"No, I just stalled it when I hit the brakes."

"Good. Let's go, we have to catch him. Before he..."

"What? Before he what?"

"Let's go! I'll tell you on the way." Lash ran around to the passenger side before Edsel could ask another question, favoring her left leg, the right grazed across her knee and shin where her jeans had been torn. Edsel shrugged. Not wanting to hold up the chase any longer either, he got in and started the van.

"Follow that car!" shouted Lash, pointing ahead at the vehicle now almost lost to sight.

"Seriously? Did you really just say that?"

"Sorry, but it might be the only chance I ever get. Everyone wants to say it at least once, right?"

"S'pose." Edsel followed the car that held Michael and Aiden.

What would I have done without this woman? It's like she's part of what makes me able to cope with all the craziness this world keeps throwing out.

Edsel turned and looked at the woman he loved more than anything in the world apart from Aiden, but it was a different love, the love between a couple that knows each other's most intimate secrets. He looked at her face as if for the first time, admiring the strong cheekbones, the pouting lips, the incredibly large eyes that he could lose himself in for lifetimes. She was still gorgeous, even through the grime and the unkempt hair she had to keep brushing away from her face.

"I love you Lash."

Lash smiled the most beautiful smile in the world, then it became tinged with sadness. "I love you too Edsel."

 

~~~

 

"We saw you, you know — from the apartment block opposite where we met Michael, where you were staying. We watched you walking about, going to the beach, coming home every night. Michael told us you didn't care, that you had given up, that he'd broken you and we would never have you back. I cried for days, you seemed so lost. Broken."

"No, that's—"

"It's okay, we didn't believe him. We know you too well," smiled Lash. "It was obvious something else was going on. I mean, I know you well enough to know how paranoid you are about the sun. You certainly weren't yourself walking around like you were, getting burned. I could see that even through all your Ink."

"It's bad isn't it? The new Ink. Crazy stuff. I'm so sorry Lash, I love you and Aiden more than life itself. I was just lost, not myself. It was like everything was a dream — I was there but not there, if that makes any sense?"

Lash stared at him intently, constantly brushing the hair away from her eyes as the wind battered the black curls through the open window. "It's... interesting, I'll give you that. We could only see it from the window of the apartment and it wasn't really very visible from up there, just kind of shiny. But your head was shiny too from the sunburn anyway. Michael said what he'd done, given you this magical Ink he called it. He's seriously mental; totally bonkers with bells on. He—"

Edsel had to interrupt, he needed to understand what was going on. "Can we start at how you got away? But before that how about a kiss? I missed you so much, Aiden too. Is he okay? I've got so many questions I don't know where to start."

"Whoa, okay, let's try to make some sense of this. Right, first things first." Lash bent over, groaning and clutching her ribs then her head, then her arm, but managed to give Edsel a kiss on the cheek. "Missed you too." She shifted back into her seat and looked ahead at the worsening road as it narrowed, the trees encroaching deeper into the crumbled asphalt. "Any sign of him yet?"

"Not yet, but we'll get them. Now will you please tell me what happened? How did you get out?"

"I jumped."

"Well, duh, I saw that bit, saw something fall out anyway. I just prayed it was you or Aiden and that you were still alive, I was terrified. Did he make you jump?"

"What? No, I got loose and I kind of rolled out rather than jumped really. Pushed to be honest, by Aiden. I was freaking out that I was going to get mangled under the car. I wouldn't recommend it. If I could've got Aiden out too then I would have, but he's trussed up like a chicken."

"Hopefully not like a Martha chicken," quipped Edsel.

"Haha. No, in fact he could have got out I think, but then Michael would have definitely stopped if we both got loose."

"Tell me what was happening in the car."

Lash went on to explain what had happened, how she had managed to escape, interrupting herself with moans as she prodded at her ribs, and mumbled about not being able to know if they were broken or not. Edsel listened; the more she told the more worried he became.

Michael is totally off his rocker.

He'd bundled them into the car at gunpoint and had said that Edsel would be along too. He didn't mention how he knew it, but to Edsel it was obvious that he knew when whatever sedatives he'd been loading him with would wear off, and Edsel would be back feeling himself again, ready to chase after them all without a moment's hesitation. He'd definitely been timing how long that would be.

Michael had tied them up in the back of the car, some kind of crazy system with leather straps, and had told them that if they tried anything funny then he'd simply shoot them, much like he'd been promising to do ever since he'd drugged Lash and Edsel with the coffee he'd so kindly offered they use in the apartment.

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