Talisman of El (8 page)

‘This is crazy,’ Alex grumbled. ‘You can’t go in there.’ ‘But that’s my house,’ the boy pleaded.

‘That’s not a house,’ Alex said. ‘You can’t live here. It’s too dangerous.’

Charlie pulled Alex aside. ‘If we go now, he might not come with us. We can’t just leave him here.’

‘He needs an adult to take care of him. We have to go to the police –’

‘No!’

Charlie glanced round and saw the boy take off in the opposite direction of the shack. ‘Wait!’ He dashed after him. Although the boy was fast, Charlie quickly gained on him.

As he drew nearer to the boy, he stretched his arm out and grabbed him, forcing him to stop.

‘I’m not going to the police,’ the boy protested, shrugging Charlie off him. ‘You can’t make me.’

‘We’re not going to the police,’ Charlie promised him. Alex caught up with them. She looked at the boy, who watched her warily. ‘I get it. No police.’ She bent forward to catch her breath. ‘You act as if you robbed a bank or something.’

Charlie met the boy’s eyes, his face a visible expression of unbearable shame. They broke their gaze when Alex straightened up.

‘What do we do now?’ she asked.

‘We check the shack,’ Charlie said. He looked at the boy.

‘What’s your name?’

The boy hesitated a moment, his eyes shifting between them. ‘Richmond,’ he said.

‘I’m Charlie, this is Alex.’ Taking a deep breath, Charlie looked back in the direction they had come. ‘Let’s go.’ It took them a few minutes to return to the shack. Charlie and Alex dropped their bags beside a tree and proceeded towards the front door.

‘You know that curiosity killed the cat isn’t just a saying, right?’ Alex whispered to Charlie. ‘It’s a warning that we should leave when something’s wrong.’

Charlie stopped and turned to her. ‘You want to see what’s inside, don’t you?’

‘Yes, but –’

‘But nothing. You’re not afraid, are you?’

‘No,’ Alex spat.

‘Then let’s go.’

They advanced towards the shack with caution, Charlie in front, followed by Richmond and then a reluctant Alex. They moved along the front wall and ducked beneath the window. ‘I’m telling you,’ Alex continued her protest, ‘if that cat wasn’t so nosy, it would’ve been climbing trees with the rest of ’em –’

‘Shh,’ Charlie hissed. He got up and peered through the window but couldn’t see anything through the grime. Using the end of his coat sleeve, he wiped away a small patch of dirt in the bottom corner and looked in.

‘What d’you see?’ Alex asked.

‘Nothing,’ he replied.

‘Maybe it’s gone.’

Holding a tight grip on the branch, Charlie headed for the entrance. The door creaked as it opened. The little light shining through the window was enough for his anxious eyes to survey the box room. Opening the door wider, he stepped over the threshold, Richmond, and Alex right behind him. The lack of fresh air was suffocating. Charlie couldn’t imagine how Richmond could spend half an hour much less an entire day in the room. There were no light sockets or lamps, only a bucket of charred wood in the corner, which explained the burning smell.

Richmond nudged him and pointed towards the window where Charlie saw a flattened cardboard box on the floor, covered with blankets and mismatched cushions – a replacement for a bed, he guessed. But that wasn’t what Richmond was pointing at. He was looking at the lump on top of the bed, covered with a brown, threadbare blanket. Charlie looked at Alex, who was holding the door open to shed more light into the room – and if needed, to make a quick getaway. Taking a deep breath, he held the branch out in front of him and stepped forward.

Suddenly, the lump stirred, and Charlie stopped. Before he could back away, he felt a tight pressure around his ankles, and he fell backwards. When he hit the wooden floor, the branch fell out of his hand. The figure pounced on top of him and pinned him to the floor by his arms.

Smothered in the itchy material, Charlie struggled against the weight of his assailant, to no avail. He couldn’t see anything but darkness.

‘Get off him,’ he heard Alex yell through the scuffling noises around him. The next moment, he heard a faint thud, followed by a loud whimper, and the pressure on his arms loosened.

The room came back into view, and he saw Alex and Richmond standing over him. Alex was holding the branch as if it were a sword, a fierce look on her face.

‘What’s he doing?’ Richmond asked.

Charlie got to his feet and looked at the figure on the floor that was shivering beneath the blanket. A deep, mournful groan erupted, and the trio looked at one another with terrified eyes.

Then tortured screams filled the room, and the figure began to twitch uncontrollably.

The trio bolted.

They were a good fifty feet from the shack when Charlie stopped. ‘Wait,’ he said. Alex and Richmond stopped and turned to him. ‘We can’t just leave him. What if he’s hurt?’ ‘Oh my god, I hit him,’ Alex said. ‘What if he’s dead?’ ‘You hit him with a branch, you didn’t shoot him.’ She looked at the branch as if it were toxic and dropped it.

‘This wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t come here. I told you we should have left.’

Charlie raised his eyebrows. ‘Ah,
hello!
Does “let’s follow him” ring a bell?’

‘You got off the bus first. We were safe with my plan. I said we shouldn’t go inside.’

‘It was your plan that led us here in the first place.’ ‘Yeah, now this guy’s probably dead because
I
hit him.’

Alex’s lips trembled, and a sad look came into her eyes. She turned away.

After a moment of silence, Charlie inched closer to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. ‘It wasn’t your fault. You were just helping me.’

Alex turned to him, her brown eyes glistening. ‘You don’t think he’s dead, do you?’

Charlie glanced back towards the shack. ‘Only one way to find out.’

It took the three of them a lot longer to reach the shack than it had when they were following Richmond; naturally, for caution had taken the place of speed.

Charlie couldn’t help but feel a slight case of déjà vu as they hid behind a tree, staring at the half-open door.

‘I don’t think he’s coming out,’ Charlie said. He looked at Alex and Richmond. ‘Ready?’

Alex and Richmond exchanged nervous glances then looked back at Charlie and nodded.

They headed towards the shack. Charlie paused in front of the door, his heart hammering so hard he wondered if the person inside could hear it. Leaning forward, he peeked through the gap between the door and the frame and saw two eyes staring at him.

A man was sitting on the cardboard bed, the blanket wrapped around him, leaving only his head exposed. Charlie held his gaze, afraid of what would happen if he took his eyes off him.

‘You wouldn’t happen to have a lighter, would you?’ the man asked in a hoarse voice.

It surprised Charlie how calm his tone was. He opened the door wider.

‘Whichever one of you I grabbed, I’m sorry.’ The man had an American accent. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

‘You didn’t,’ Charlie said.

‘Well, I’m sorry if I scared you.’

‘You didn’t scare me.’

The man gave him a weak smile. His eyes flickered to the bucket of wood in the corner. ‘About that lighter …?’ ‘I have one,’ answered Richmond.

Charlie glanced at him, but Richmond wasn’t looking at the man. Following his gaze, Charlie saw a large rucksack on the floor beside the bucket.

‘May I borrow it?’ the man asked.

The trio exchanged wary glances.

‘I’ll give it back,’ the man said. ‘I would just like to warm up a bit.’

Charlie hesitated a moment and then went over to the bucket. Rummaging through Richmond’s bag, he pulled out a kitchen lighter which he used to set the wood alight. He returned to the others and joined them in their staring game. ‘Thank you.’ The man studied the three of them with curiosity. ‘Why did you come back?’

‘You sounded like you were in pain,’ Charlie answered. The man looked surprised. ‘You came back to check on me? You realise I could be dangerous.’

‘If you were, you wouldn’t be telling us,’ Charlie pointed out.

The man looked directly at him, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. ‘Fair point.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Alex enquired.

‘Well, I
was
trying to sleep,’ the man replied.

‘But this is my house,’ said Richmond. ‘I found it first.’ The man studied Richmond, his face creased with concern, and then his gaze drifted around the desolate shack. ‘You live here?’

Richmond nodded.

The man grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut, his face twisted in pain as he hunched forward. A small groan escaped his throat.

‘Are you okay?’ Alex asked.

The man sat up and rested his head against the wall behind him. He opened his eyes and let out a laboured sigh. ‘No,’ he choked out. ‘I am certainly not okay.’

‘Are you ill?’ Richmond asked.

‘No. I’m just old.’

The trio looked at one another in bewilderment. ‘I’m sorry I hit you,’ Alex said.

‘That was you? That’s quite an arm you got there.’ The man took the blanket off himself and staggered to his feet.

Dressed in black trousers, a long black coat that seemed two sizes too large, and shoes so shiny they could pass for mirrors, he was a far cry from a pauper. When he straightened up, the trio stepped back.

‘I said I was sorry,’ Alex said, her voice cracked. The man looked at her. His face, framed by thick greying hair, looked weary and seemed prematurely lined, but his olive-green eyes were alight. ‘I accept your apology.’ He went over to the fire bucket and knelt down beside it, warming his hands up. He started laughing. ‘Beaten by a girl,’ he said, more to himself than to the trio. ‘Story of my life.’ His laughter turned into a wheezing cough.

‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?’ Charlie heard the worry in Alex’s voice. She made a move towards the man, but he grabbed hold of her and pulled her back. ‘I only hit you ’cause I thought you were hurting Charlie. If I’d known you were old, I wouldn’t have …’ Alex paused for one beat, and then the rest of the words came out in a rush. ‘I didn’t mean
old
old. My parents said I should respect the elderly’ – her eyes opened wide with a strange side-splitting horror – ‘but you’re obviously not old enough to be an elderly –’

Charlie gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and she stopped, lowering her head.

‘You were looking out for your friend,’ the man said. ‘I understand.’

Alex raised her head. ‘But just so you know. I don’t go around beating people up. This was a first.’

The man smiled. He got up, walked back over to the bed, and sat down.

‘Why were you screaming?’ Richmond enquired. The man looked at the window. ‘I’m going through some changes.’ He raked his hair out of his face, and for a split second, an eerie feeling crept over Charlie. It was a familiar feeling, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

‘What changes?’ Alex asked.

The man looked at her. ‘The kind you wouldn’t believe.’ ‘Try us,’ said Charlie.

The man averted his gaze from them again. After a moment, he glanced back at them, and a speculative look came into his eyes. ‘How old do I look?’

The trio looked at one another, neither one willing to answer.

‘It’s all right,’ the man insisted. ‘I just want to know the truth.’

‘Don’t you know how old you are?’ Richmond asked. ‘Oh, I know how old I am. I just don’t know how old I look. I stopped looking in the mirror about a week ago, and for me … a lot changes in a week.’

Charlie and Richmond regarded Alex. ‘I think I’ve insulted him enough,’ she whispered.

Charlie looked back at the man and said, ‘I’d guess you’re about … fifty?’

The man sighed, rubbing his forehead.

‘I meant forty-five,’ Charlie corrected himself.

The man chuckled. ‘It’s all right, kid. At this rate I’d be dead in a month.’

Charlie glanced at Alex and Richmond, who both looked just as confused as he felt. Addressing the man, he asked, ‘Do you want us to take you to a hospital?’

‘Thanks for the offer, kid, but there isn’t a doctor in this world that can help me.’ The man paused, as if deciding whether he should continue. ‘I’m not fifty – or forty-five. My name is Derkein Odessa. I’m from Long Island, New York, and I’m twenty-seven years old.’

An awkward silence filled the room. It was as if the man had spoken a foreign language, and the trio hadn’t understood a single word of it.

‘Did I hit you on the head?’ Alex asked.

Derkein smiled without humour. ‘I didn’t think you’d believe me.’

An unsettling feeling stirred within Charlie. He was certain he had heard the name Derkein before. He just couldn’t remember where. ‘Have we – met before?’ he asked. ‘I doubt it.’ Derkein slipped his hand inside his jacket and pulled out a thin, black book. ‘Take it,’ he said, holding the book up.

Charlie stepped forward, snatched the book, and stepped back. On the cover were the words
PASSPORT. United States 
of America
. He looked back at Derkein.

‘Go ahead,’ Derkein insisted. ‘Have a look.’

Charlie opened the passport to the photo page, and his heart stopped. It was all there: Derkein Odessa, 22 JUL 1985, New York, U.S.A. He was looking at a photo of a young man in his twenties. He heard Alex gasp beside him. She said something, but he didn’t hear it, for his mind was elsewhere. That feeling of familiarity came over him again, but this time he knew why. It wasn’t the first time he had seen the man in the photo.

The wrinkle-free young face, shoulder-length black hair, still olive eyes staring back at him …

‘Hard to believe, isn’t it?’ Derkein’s voice interrupted his thoughts. ‘A few weeks ago, I looked like the person in that photo. Now look at me.’

Charlie stared at Derkein in utter disbelief. His first impression was that he had to be dreaming. There was no other explanation for it. He felt the passport slip out of his hand, but he didn’t take his eyes off Derkein. The last time he had seen those eyes they were staring into oblivion. Now here he was. Alive when he was supposed to be dead. Real when he wasn’t even supposed to exist.