"I don't care about that! Just check the goddamn house!" screamed Caine.

Quinn rolled his eyes. Sam stepped forward.

"It's been abandoned for as long as we can remember Caine, no one is going to be in that house."

Caine remained in control of the situation.

"I said I don't care, we have to check every house. Every one of them, got it?"

Quinn stood up to protest, but as he rose, Drake shifted and Quinn lost his nerve.

"Fine, we'll go."

Sam and Quinn made their way out and began to search houses, Brooke, a kid from Coates was forced to go with them, but she didn't say a word. After they found the dead boy, Sam ran off and Brooke was left with Quinn. He was angry, that much she could tell.

"We should follow him," she whispered quietly.

Quinn's frown eased.

"No," he said. "He needs to be somewhere else."

"But Caine…"

"If you wanna go to Caine then do it! Go for it. No one's stopping you, but you'll be going by yourself."

Brooke shook her head.

"I'd get lost," she whispered.

"Then follow me."

Quinn looked at the wagon and sighed. The bag was sitting on top and it was starting to get to him.

"Leave the wagon. Panda or something can pick it up."

Brooke nodded but otherwise remained silent.

They walked down the street and turned into an abandoned driveway.

"Okay background knowledge. Haunted house, no one has been in here since the guy died last centaury. Okay?"

She nodded again. Quinn ignored her as she fidgeted nervously and banged on the door. It opened without a creak and Quinn sighed – he really wanted to bash something down.

They both took a step in at the same time. It was awkward, Quinn turned on the lights and somehow they managed to flicker on. The room was dusty; no one had entered that front door in a long, long time. There were spiders as big as Brooke's hand and cobwebs spanned from the high ceiling to the floor. Brooke stepped in a small one and shrieked. Quinn came running and pulled her out of it.

"There are two floors and the attic. You go through the bottom level and I'll start from the attic and work my way down. I'll meet you halfway. Deal?"

"Yeah," Brooke said and began to walk down the hallway.

Quinn cracked his neck and climbed the spiral staircase up to the second floor.

Each step and each floorboard creaked to a different note. It echoed around and shivers went up his spine. This was no place for a kid. The second floor was just as dusty, the walls were covered with faded floral wallpaper that was grey. It wasn't the happiest place. The floors were wooden, and there was no rug to be seen, if there was one it had been eaten away by the rats that crawled over Quinn's foot.

"Hello?" he called out.

There was no reply; a small scuffle from the 1st floor but that was probably just Brooke. He found the latch to get to the attic and pulled. It fell away cleanly. Not a speck of dust. He noted. When he climbed up the stairs and he noticed that there was a light on in the attic but it wasn't natural light.

He climbed up the stairs and called out again, but again there was no answer. The attic was the length and width of the house. There was a bed in the middle that had recently been slept in. A cupboard that had over a thousand cans of food sat open on one side of the room. The walls were painted blue; a startling, vibrant sky blue. Halfway across the room were two bookcases; they acted as a wall divider but didn't cut all across the room. It was against the end bookcase sat something Quinn was not expecting.

There was a girl. She sat cross-legged, with her headphones in, and she threw a tennis ball up and down in her left hand. Her eyes followed the flight of the ball; Quinn watched her for a few minutes. She did the same thing over and over, ball up, eyes follow, ball land in hand, eyes follow; and then she would repeat it.

"Hello?" he asked softly.

The girl didn't respond; she didn't act like she had heard him at all. Quinn uncertainly walked over to her and crouched down.

"Hello?"

For a second she didn't respond. Maybe she's autistic like Little Pete thought Quinn. He didn't know what to do; he touched her knee just as the ball landed in her hand. Her head snapped in his direction and she grabbed his shirt and clenched her fist threateningly.

"Why are you here?" she demanded.

Quinn struggled to breathe for a minute, when his lungs began to hurt she left go of his shirt.

"Thank you," he choked. "We're here to check the house; we didn't know anyone lived here."

"Oh." That's all she said.

Quinn looked at her.

"How old are you?"

"Fourteen."

That was strange, she looked younger.

"Why are you here?"

"My parents put me here."

He looked at her, her hair was long and blonde, curly and messy – it looked good. He shook his head, wrong time, wrong place.

"Who are they?"

"My parents."

Quinn laughed, "Do you have any siblings?"

"Just Charlie, he comes and sees me every now and then."

"Charlie? What's his last name?"

Quin couldn't think of anyone in Perdido Beach called Charlie. Maybe he's a Coates kid, thought Quin mindfully.

"Merriman. He… he told me that he get's called Org now."

"Orc?"

"Yeah!"

The girl seemed to brighten up when her brother was mentioned; but Quinn was still in shock – Orc had a sister?

Quinn sat down next to her and looked around the room.

"So," he said casually, "What's your name?"

"What's yours?"

"I asked you first!" he protested.

"I asked you second, what's your point?"

Quinn laughed, "My name is Quinn."

She nodded. "Pipa, but Charlie called me Pip."

"Pip?"

"Yeah."

She smiled and wrote it in the air with her finger. "P-I-P."

"Left handed," Quinn said.

"You're obviously a lefty too," she stated.

Quinn was confused on how she knew but nodded.

"How do you spell Quinn?"

"Q-U-I-double n."

"So let's get you out of here, okay?"

He stood up and cracked his back. Pip jumped up and clung to Quinn's fluoro green polo.

"Quinn?"

He turned to face her; Pip's face was suddenly solemn and sunken.

"Yeah? You okay?"

"Quinn, please don't hate me."

"Why would I do that?" he asked.

He grabbed her hand and looked at her. She cringed and looked away.

"He called me a freak, Quinn. He said that I was inhuman and I shouldn't be alive, he said I should be grateful that he still came to see me. Mum and Dad thought the same, but they never came, they left me here."

He stared at her, unsure of what she was talking about.

"Come with me," she whispered.

She walked him passed the books to the little bathroom. Pip pointed to the mirror and Quinn gasped loudly.

There was no one there.

"But I can see you, and I'm right here!" he exclaimed. "Where is my reflection?"

Pip let go of Quinn's hand and suddenly he could see himself, but she wasn't there anymore.

"Pip? Where are you?"

"I'm right here," she said softly.

"You haven't moved," he murmured.

"No, no I haven't. Quinn, I… I can camouflage."