Vestige (17 page)

“I’ve seen you outside the house before. What d’ya want?” said the girl.

“Yes, I’ve been by a couple of times, but I didn’t see any adults around. I didn’t feel right stopping in if parents weren’t home.” Thomas surprised himself. He usually wasn’t quick witted.

The girl stood silent with her arms crossed.

Thomas continued. “I’ve finally come to the conclusion that all of you are living here unattended.” Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. He cleared his throat. “What’s your name? Do you attend St. Francis because you look familiar?”

“I’m Clarke. I used to go there but not anymore.”

“Oh…” Thomas’s eyes darted around trying to escape her intense gaze.

“Hang on, I’ll get Micah. This is his house. He’s out back.” Clarke turned and left Thomas standing in the front hallway.

While Thomas waited, he recalled his nightmare and wondered what the living room really looked like. He stepped around the corner—no inverted crucifix and no lava. Instead, empty cans and chip bags littered the room. Blankets and clothing covered the floor. The stench of stale beer and dirty socks hung in the air, not as bad as sulfur but bad enough. Thomas made a face and put his finger up to his nose as he retreated to the hallway.

After several minutes, Clarke returned, leading Micah by the hand. His golden aura was blinding. It consumed Clarke’s dark aura entirely. Thomas tried not to squint.

“Micah, this is Father Thomas from St. Francis.” Clarke elbowed Micah’s side and grinned at him.

“Yeah…we saw you standing outside the house this morning,” said Micah.

Thomas reached out to shake Micah’s hand. “How are you coping with the changes? I’m assuming that both of you have missing parents.”

Micah shook Thomas’s hand. “Yeah, mine are gone.”

Thomas felt a warm tingle travel from Micah’s hand into his. It moved up his arm and through his body, filling him with a sense of safety and well-being. He didn’t want to let go, but of course, he did.

“My dad is gone,” added Clarke.

“And your mother?” Thomas asked her.

“I don’t have one,” Clarke answered.

“I see.” Thomas wasn’t sure what she meant by that. “Have you received your tags?”

“Um…yeah.” Clarke looked at her right hand for a moment and then held it up for Thomas to see. Then she grabbed Micah’s hand and held his up too.

“What?” Thomas's stomach dropped. He was too late. “But I—”

“No…these aren’t real.” Micah pulled his hand out of Clarke’s grip and rubbed the fake barcode as if he were trying to wipe it off. “Clarke had the idea to draw them with a marker.”

“Micah…why would you tell him that?” muttered Clarke.

Thank God. Thomas let his shoulders drop as he exhaled. “Clever. They look authentic. You fooled me. I’ve heard that people are receiving extra rations for reporting those without a tag.” Thomas scratched his head. “A fake tag…hmm. That might keep you out of jail. But, of course, you won’t be able to receive rations.”

“We’re doing okay. We don’t need rations,” said Micah.

“Look, I’m not tagged either.” Thomas lifted his right hand. Hopefully, they didn’t notice his trembling. “So your secret is safe with me.” He cleared his throat again; his mouth was dry. “Can I trouble you for a glass of water?”

“Sure. I’ll be right back,” said Micah.

“I’ll get it,” volunteered Clarke.

Perfect, this was Thomas’s chance. He waited until Clarke was out of earshot before he spoke. “Micah, do you know a homeless man named Jon?”

“Kind of, I guess. Why?” Micah’s body tensed. His eyes narrowed.

“He’s been arrested. A few weeks ago, when the tagging began, I went to the village hall and that’s when I first met Jon. That’s also when he was arrested.”

“I heard that they think he’s a terrorist, and that he’s responsible for the missing people.” Micah’s voice was flat.

“Do you believe that?” asked Thomas.

“I don’t know.” Micah shrugged.

“Micah, he seems to think that you’re in danger.”

Micah’s face tightened. “I’m in danger? Huh….” He paused and looked at the ground. After a moment, he looked back up. “When I saw him, he told me that I was the only one who could—” Micah stopped short and stared at Thomas. Could this man be trusted?

“The only one who could what?” pressed Thomas.

“Here’s your water,” Clarke interrupted as she walked up the hallway. “Sorry it took so long. I had to wash a glass.” She handed Thomas the drink.

He took a sip. He looked from Clarke to Micah. Should he continue? Did he have a choice? “Micah, what did Jon say? It’s very important that you tell me.”

“I don’t remember.” Micah looked away.

“Jon who?” asked Clarke.

“Jon, the homeless terrorist,” answered Micah. “You met him outside church. Remember?” He ran his hand through his hair and exhaled.

“Yeah, right, I remember,” said Clarke.

“You know him too?” asked Thomas. “Micah is trying to remember what Jon said to him that last time they talked.”

“Micah, how can you forget?” Clarke looked at him and scrunched her nose.

Micah shook his head slightly, but Clarke continued anyway.

“He said that Micah had to kill a monster or beast or something like that.” Clarke paused and looked back at Micah. “He said ‘beast’, right?”

Micah rubbed his hand across his face. “Oh man…”

Clarke couldn’t seem to read his body language and continued, “He said that Micah was the ‘last vestige of hope.’ I remember that. Those were his exact words, ‘last vestige of hope.’” She nodded as she looked from Thomas to Micah.

Micah shook his head and looked at the floor.

It seemed to finally dawn on her that she had said too much. “Micah, what’s wrong? What did I say?” Clarke grabbed his arm. “Micah?”

“Did he tell you who the beast is? Do you know?” Thomas asked Micah.

Micah’s head shot up. His eyes locked onto Thomas. “No...I mean yes. He didn’t tell me, but I figured it out. So you know who he is too?”

“Did you dream about him?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah. And there was this dog—”

“Bob? Yeah I’ve met Bob too,” said Thomas.

“Micah what’s going on?” Clarke's voice cracked.

“Clarke...there’s something I need to tell you.” Micah grabbed her by the shoulders. “You can’t freak out. I need you to stay calm, and I need you to trust me.”

Thomas didn’t know if it was a good idea to tell this girl everything.

“Micah, bring beer,” a disembodied voice called from the yard.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk hear,” suggested Thomas. “I’m not sure we can trust those friends of yours. I stopped by several days ago, and the boy with the tattoo threatened me and slammed the door in my face.”

“That was Cody,” said Micah.

“You need to come back to the church with me. You’ll be safer there,” Thomas suggested.

“Nah, I can handle Cody. He’s all talk. We’re fine here.” Micah gave Thomas a nod. “When those guys go out tomorrow morning, me and Clarke will stop by the church.”

“All right. Tomorrow then. Whatever you do, don’t get tagged,” cautioned Thomas. “And don’t open the doors for anyone else tonight even if you know them. Tomorrow, on your way to the church, avoid people. You can’t trust anyone especially if they’re tagged. Since there are no check points along the way, those fake tags should protect you.”

“Those guys out back are tagged,” Clarke said.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” asked Thomas.

Micah didn’t answer, but Clarke did. “Micah, maybe we should go to the church. You can’t trust those guys.”

“Clarke, we haven’t left the house in two weeks. How would we explain leaving now?” said Micah.

“We don’t have to explain anything. We can just leave,” said Clarke.

“One of the last things my dad said to me was that everything I needed was in this house.” Micah continued, “I can’t leave Cody and Dustin alone here. What if they find the—”

“Micah…where are you?” another voice yelled from the yard.

“I’m gonna go before I have another encounter with Cody,” said Thomas. “If there’s any trouble tonight, come to the church immediately. The doors are always open. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Once Thomas was gone, Micah closed the door and locked it.

“Okay Micah, You need to tell me everything,” demanded Clarke.

“I don’t know where to start,” Micah said.

“You can start by telling me about the homeless guy,” she suggested.

“You heard most of it.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t understand any of it. Have you talked to that priest before tonight?”

“No…but...” He should tell her about Grimshaw. He should tell her now.

“Micah, I’m worried. You’re as white as a sheet. You’re starting to scare me.”

“Father Thomas knows Jon too. I guess Jon thinks I’m in danger.”

“Are you? Micah, what if Jon is a terrorist, and he knows what’s going on?” Clarke’s eyes began to tear up.

“Trust me, he’s not a terrorist. He had nothing to do with the disappearances.”

“Then, how are you in danger?” she asked.

“I think the real person responsible for the disappearances knows me.”

“Oh my God, Micah…who?”

“It’s the same guy who took my dad away. He’s bad Clarke, real bad. I thought I was the only one who knew about him, but Father Thomas seems to know about him too.”

“Why did you let him leave? Go after him Micah! I don’t want anything to happen to you. You need to find out exactly what he knows.”

“It’s okay. We’ll talk to him tomorrow. If we don’t get out back soon, Dustin and Cody will come in. What will they think if they see us talking to that priest? Besides, I’m sure one more night won’t make a difference.” Micah lifted her chin with his hand and kissed her softly on her lips. “Let’s go out back. I need a beer.”

“Do we have to? It’s cold out there,” said Clarke.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

They walked through the house and out the back door. Clarke climbed the ladder first; Micah followed.

“Micah did you bring more beer?” asked Cody.

“Ah shit, I forgot. I’ll go back and get it.” Micah climbed down.

“Bring some blankets too,” Amber yelled.

“He won’t be able to carry all that himself. I’ll go help him,” Clarke said as she stood.

Cody grabbed her wrist and pulled her down next to him. “Stay here. Jess will help him. Right Jess?”

Without a word, Jess stood and followed Micah. As she turned to climb down the ladder, she glanced at Clarke and smirked.

Cody’s hand remained wrapped around Clarke’s wrist. Clarke tried to wiggle free a couple of times, but Cody wouldn’t let go. As Clarke looked at the three friends, she could see that something was up. Amber wouldn’t look at her, and Dustin couldn’t sit still.

“What’s going on?” Clarke studied Amber’s face, looking for a sign, but Amber’s expression revealed nothing. Her vacant eyes focused on a rusty nail in the floor.

“You don’t like us very much, do you Clarke,” Cody said.

“You guys are fine,” Clarke answered.

Dustin crawled across the deck and sat on the other side of Clarke. “Are you cold? We’ll keep you warm.” Dustin put his arm around Clarke’s shoulder. Cody continued to hold onto her wrist.

“Excuse me, but do you mind taking your hands off me?” Clarke had to put a stop to this nonsense.

“You know, that tough girl act is getting a little old. You have to learn to be good and keep your mouth shut. You see Amber over there? She knows how to behave,” said Cody.

Clarke tried once again to free her wrist, but this time, she also tried to push Dustin away with her free arm.

Cody rolled onto his knees and straddled Clarke’s legs. He put his free hand on her other arm, restraining her further. “You need to be a good girl, or things aren’t going to end well for you.”

“Cody, he doesn’t want you to hurt her,” whined Amber.

“Shut up, Amber.” Cody turned his head toward his girlfriend.

In the moment it took for Cody to look away, Clarke was able to bend her knee back and position her foot in front of Cody’s crotch. With every ounce of energy, she pushed her foot out, making contact. Cody doubled from the pain and fell to his side. His face twisted in agony as he moaned like a wounded cat.

Dustin’s arm dropped from Clarke’s shoulder allowing her to take action against him. With the palm of her hand, she pushed Dustin’s nose upward.

Within seconds, blood gushed from his nostrils, soaking his t-shirt. Dustin put his hands up to his face. “Jesus…I’m bleeding. What the hell!”

“Assholes,” Clarke said as she stepped onto the first rung of the ladder.

Without offering the boys her assistance, Amber scurried down after Clarke. “Clarke, wait….”

Clarke didn’t stop. She opened the back door and stormed into the house. Amber finally caught her in the kitchen and grabbed her arm.

“Don’t touch me,” Clarke muttered between her clenched teeth.

Amber let go of her immediately. “Right…. Clarke before you go in the living room, I have to tell you something.”

“This better be good.” Clarke turned towards Amber.

Amber took a step away from Clarke. “They didn’t mean anything by it. They were just doing what they were told to do. It’s nothing personal.”

“What? Cody physically restrains me and threatens me, and I’m supposed to just let it go?”

“At first we were only supposed to make sure you and Micah were tagged, but then he wanted us to separate you. This is the only way we thought to do it.”

“Amber, I don’t know what you’re talking about, nor do I care.” Where was Micah, and what was he doing with Jess? Clarke turned away from Amber and made her way into the living room.

*****

“Micah, wait for me,” Jess said.

Micah stopped in the doorway.

“I’ll help you. I’ll carry the blankets,” she said.

“Thanks, I could use the help.” Once in the kitchen, Micah grabbed a case of beer. “I’ll wait here while you get the blankets.”

“No…come with me. I’m afraid to walk around your house by myself at night. It’s scary,” Jess wrapped her arms around her torso and pretended to shiver.

Micah set the beer down and followed her into the living room. As he entered, Jess picked up a blanket from the floor and threw it at Micah. It landed on his head.