Dora and Arne were the only ones awake in the Humvee, attempting to block out a snoring Merwyn in the backseat. What initially started off as somewhat irritating, eventually converted into something entertaining. Behaving like two immature school children, Dora and Arne snorted and made jokes that only they would both find amusing. And every time Dora's obnoxious laugh was enough to cause Merwyn to move around in his sleep, they forcibly bottled themselves up,
"How are they doing back there?" Arne briefly taking his eyes off the road.
Dora turned and looked through to the backseat, attempting to see through the minimal spaces that their mountain of loot didn't obscure the trunk,
"Looks like Carlos is the only one awake,"
"Those kids could never last a day with us, huh?" Arne joked.
Dora chuckled lightly, discreetly looking at Arne from where she sat. She noticed the bloodshot appearance and bags surrounding his eyes. Turning away, she looked into the side mirror, noticing the impeccable similarities with her own,
"Did you get any rest last night?" she rested her head back.
Arne hesitated before answering, hoping that this wouldn't be used as a reason to not be behind the wheel. He answered honestly and shook his head. He asked why it was so important to know. Dora paused, understanding how it felt to lose sleep over loved ones. Hell, Dora could barely get a good night's even while Jolyn, Ada, and Emberly were around her. The neverending doubts just never seemed to let her sit comfortably for once.
"I just want to make sure that you'll be okay," Dora gulped. She opened her mouth, unable to come across without sounding too harsh, "Just...if things don't happen to go as planned. I want to make sure you'll be alright."
It was foolish to believe that somberness was something capable of being diminished. It never vanished. It only stalked, always waiting for the opportunity to crash back down and overtake whatever lively atmosphere that was likely to become devoured. And that was exactly what happened to them. He couldn't blame Dora for thinking the way she did, because he'd be lying if he said that it never crossed his mind. Dora just had the guts to vocalize the reality of what people were afraid to say—much less think. Arne wasn't a superstitious man, but the whole "speaking it into existence" was something he'd rather not toy with when it came to his family,
"Yes...I'd like fries with that…" Merwyn muttered in the backseat.
Even though the dullness existed as long as we did, it could still be stalled. Therefore, laughter, a little more lighthearted and genuine, tickled the interior of the jumping vehicle.
The city buildings and fancy neighborhood houses were left far behind. They were now in the countryside of the Quebec province, a province that was primarily French-speaking. Storefronts, billboards, and street signs were all in French, something that Dora immediately recognized due to her upbringing on an island that spoke a broken alternative Creole French—a Antillean Creole. Although the two were hardly alike, Dora learned a thing or two because of her heritage and background. Just like how English's relationship is with Latin and Greek, that's how Antillean Creole is with French.
Eventually taken off the road, Carlos followed the Humvee into a skinny, unpaved path that cut through a partition of lively green trees. The bumps and uneasy road caused everyone else in the Volkswagen to wake up. Merwyn, contrarily, was a heavy sleeper.
"Where the hell are we?" Ada rubbed her sleepy eyes.
Blindly following Arne from start to finish, there was no way Carlos could've answered that question. Three minutes into the forest and a large serene lake came into view, glistening as rays of sunlight bouncing off the capillary waves that danced on the entire body of water, looking frozen from a distance. Having the smallest crack in his window, the smell of the atmosphere suddenly shifted into something that felt fresh and crisp.
Acting as an invitation, the lake eventually led to a teal green two-story house,
"Wow," Carlos exclaimed in amazement.
"Arne's ex-wife must have a lot of money," Emberly peered in from the backseat.
"Yeah, well look at where all that money got us today…" Ada rolled her eyes.
"A fancy house in the suburbs and an even fancier lake house? Sounds like someone's jealous," Carlos poked from the front seat.
"I meant the world, genius! And jealous of what exactly?"
"That they didn't get to live such a luxurious life," Carlos stuck his tongue at her from the rearview mirror.
She retaliated with a scoff and rested comfortably in her new white collared blouse with baggy mesh sleeves and olive colored cargo pants. Dora had cleaned it so well, not once did she ever recall it being in contact with a corpse. She looked away, desperately holding herself back from going on an anti-capitalist tangent. Having preferred some kind of rant over silence, Carlos exhaled,
"I'm only kidding, babe…"
"Babe?" Emberly shouted in surprise.
Carlos short-circuited and began to stammer. Returning his focus back to the road, the Humvee in front of him slightly drove off the road and parked just off a small cluster of trees. Carlos did the same. Everyone exited the cars and stretched their stems around, feeling almost untouchable for some unknown reason.
Upon Dora's curiousness, he confirmed that this was the place. Arne looked at the house, unable to identify any sign that guaranteed anyone had been living in the lake house. He recognized it as a sanctum. It was a place where he and his wife would secretly go just before they had Hunter and it was where he had been conceived. Walking down a small set of wooden steps that led to the lake house property, Arne approached the doorway with the rest of the party occupying behind him, feeling a lot less tension from the environment.
He knocked the wooden screen door, knocking it, again and again, moments after no one answered. By the time Arne was on his fifth set of knocks, Dora figured it was her time to step in,
"Arne…" Dora softly called.
Still having his back turned from the entire group, he tried to emotionally pull himself together.
"Um," Ada cleared her throat, "We're gonna take a walk and see if we can find anyone…"
Dora nodded, giving her daughter an affirmative for her quick thinking, yet she made sure to warn them not to go too far. They may have seemed safe and sound, but the truth had yet to be discovered. And it was unwise to go looking for it.
Carlos stuck with Jolyn as they ventured over more of the property. Walking beyond the entrance, they wandered down another set of stairs to the right of the lake house. It led them to a patio that extended out to a pier with a little rowboat tied to it. No one seemed to be there.
Merwyn, Ada, and Emberly strolled back to the main road. Ada walked ahead, feeling most protected by the screwdriver concealed in her back pocket. Following close by was Emberly and Merwyn, who was having an innocent conversation amongst themselves, however, they both bumped into Ada once she suddenly stopped walking. The remaining two looked up, seeing a young, gawky boy with a fishing rod in his hand. He became transfixed with their presence until he regained the ability to speak,
"Mom!" The boy screamed, "Come! Quick!"
A woman ran out from the cabin and panicked the moment she saw the three strangers having a stare-off with her son. Running in front of him, she kept him close behind her,
"Get the gun. Load it just like I taught you and bring it to me," she whispered without removing her glower,
Ada opened her mouth, but before she could find her words, the young boy was already fetching his mother's weapon,
"Please…" Ada raised her arms high in the air, prompting Merwyn to do the same.
Returning out of the house, the shaggy-haired kid passed the handgun to his mother and hid close behind her. Emberly did the same by remaining hidden, keeping her clammy hands close together,
"I won't kill you, but only if you don't give me a reason to," the woman shivered with an ebbing voice.
"We're just looking for someone," Merwyn interjected. Very cautiously, he inched closer. He hoped that a willowy stranger wouldn't have it in her to pull the trigger around Emberly, seeing that she also had a young child, "We don't mean any harm. We're just helping a friend look for someone..."
"Don't. Move. Any. Closer…" the woman demanded through clenched teeth.
With Merwyn now out of his way. The young boy made out certain details of the other girl on the opposite side of the feud. The more he examined her, the faster he began to recognize her familiar attire: A black t-shirt with a Batman emblem and straight jeans with a rip just below the left knee. It could be mere coincidence, but to have a tear in the same spot was something he felt the need to point out,
"Mom…" the young boy tugged on the back of her shirt.
"I said don't move!" She shouted at Merwyn once again. This time she arranged to pull the trigger.
"Mom!"
"What, Hunter?!" she snapped, briefly removing her eyes from her targets.
Emberly immediately reacted to the call of Hunter's name, tapping Ada's shoulder and asking if she caught on.
"That girl. She's wearing my clothes."
"Don't be ridiculous," she asserted.
"Hunter? Is that your name?" Ada forced an uneasy grin.
Hunter acknowledged,
"Unh-uh," she aimed at Ada, "Don't speak to my son!"
Ada carefully engaged with the young boy. She hoped to demonstrate that she wasn't here to make enemies, but rather to solve an issue that could benefit the both of them. Something that could change their lives forever and hopefully take them far,
"Do you recognize these clothes?"
Hunter looked up at his mother, attempting to peek out from behind her back. He was a tall boy, nearly up to her shoulder.
"There's a hole in the back pocket…" he claimed.
Ada freely moved aside and turned Emberly around, revealing the hole just as he said. The woman looked up, completely shocked by her son's accuracy. However, it wasn't enough to convince her that they were on her team. As everything should, it made her expect the worst. She threw accusations such as thieves who broke into her home and figured out the address of the lake house somewhere, admitting that it was written in the back of an old photograph in her bedroom—a photograph no one had known about until now.
"Is your name Penelope…?" Merwyn asked, still having his hands up.
"Miss, we don't want to hurt you," Emberly blurted before running back behind Ada.
"We traveled here with your husband," Ada paused, proceeding to correct her goof, "Ex-husband."
The woman began to become choked up, unable to utilize her sharp tongue like she did during their encounter. Something inside of her wanted to believe them—it did. She was just so embarrassed to ever be brought to this point. Never in a million years did she picture having a gun pointed at a young child. But she and her son had been through so much that she didn't know what to trust. What if they were one of those monsters out there? What if they could confuse you and make you think they were people again? She had seen the impossible, so she didn't know what to believe.
"You know my dad?!" Hunter exclaimed happily.
"He's in the New York National Guard. He has red hair, green eyes..." Ada went on to describe him, knowing literally nothing else she could do to prove her honesty with her, "Right, Penelope?"
"Then where is he?" Penelope restlessly aimed her gun between the three of them.
"We'll get him for you…"
"No!" Penelope demanded, "Just you. The girl stays here," she moved the gun over to Merwyn, "And so do you."
As difficult as it was for Ada to leave Emberly with a woman who had a gun aimed at her, Ada could tell by the look in Penelope's eyes that this was the only way. Having such a difficult leaving her cousin's side, Ada's hand slipped away from Emberly's and she dashed back down the path that led to the lake house. Reaching the lakehouse, she slid to a stop, seeing four of her remaining allies huddled around one another,
"ARNE!" all of their eyes looked up at her, alarmed by her hectic gestures, "There's a woman. I think she's your wife and she had a gun pointed at Emberly!"
"Wait, what?!" Dora shouted.
All of them spoke over one another as they all sprinted after her. Jolyn was eventually the first to emerge from the forest, seeing the distressed eyes of a mother look up at him. As a precaution, she shifted her gaze and pointed her gun at him. Jolyn's mind suddenly went into a delirium, getting flashbacks of the moment he was shot. Immediately, he backed away into the forest undetected.
Arne ran out into the open next, seeing two familiar faces he dreamt up many nights before. However, it was real this time. Arne's face became red from withheld emotion, whereas Penelope covered her mouth with her free hand.
"Oh my god…" her arm fell weakly to her side.
"DAD!" Hunter screamed with a smile.
She stretched her hand out towards Emberly, who was already on her feet. She was incredibly repentant. She apologized, having her words eventually die off into shaken weeps. As her eyes flooded with tears, Arne heavily gaited towards her. He was overcome, welcoming her and Hunter into his arms. She gave him a quick peck on the lips, resting both of their palms over Hunter's back to welcome him into their group hug. She may have been his ex-wife, but they were still two halves of a whole.
Although Dora and Ada were moved, they whispered Emberly's name, reminding her to stick close to them. Even if it seemed as though Penelope was incredibly regretful of her actions, it still made them feel slightly more relieved that she wasn't near the same gun.
As Arne, Penelope, and Hunter had their rendering reunion, there was something incredibly bittersweet about the entire situation considering that the Ada, Merwyn or Emberly could've been the ones killed if she didn't suspect they were telling the truth.
With Hunter now stitched to his father's side, they both walked towards the Chadwells as Penelope quietly followed. The eyes of Ada and Emberly were staring directly at her. Although Emberly still wasn't a victim in this situation, her body language gave away an obvious pushback that Penelope didn't favor, but knew she deserved. As Arne introduced every one of them, Penelope could tell that they were genuinely a kind-hearted family.
As Arne wrapped up introductions, he stopped, noticing that something very prominent was missing from this picture—someone.
"There's Merwyn and…" his eyes looked around, having Dora follow up with his.
"Where's Jolyn!?" Dora began worrying, causing everyone else to look around, "Jolyn!?"
Ada strayed away from the group, cupping her hands around her mouth,
"Jolyn!" She shouted loudest. Everyone else joined in, except for Penelope and Hunter, who felt that this was an unfortunate way to start off. Ada's voice began to crack and tremble, unable to shout as loud as she originally did, "J-JOLYN! JOLYN!"
Eventually, Dora and Ada's were the only ones with their backs turned to everyone else, looking into the unforeseeable depths of the trees and shrubbery. They were timing themselves to say it at the same time to liken their chances of being heard, but no one was responding. After some time, Ada weakly gave in. She rested her head on her mother's shoulder, realizing that as much as they called, Jolyn wasn't answering. Dora wrapped her arm around her daughter, attempting to comfort her.
After staring at the dirt beneath her shoes for far too long, Penelope looked up,
"Was that her son? I saw him run when I held up my gun…"
Arne sighed, walking off without giving a definite answer. He slowly snuck up behind the Chadwells and rested a hand on both of their shoulders, causing them to look over it.
"Hey…" Arne sighed, "Maybe he's back at the lakehouse. Let's check there first."
They all headed back to the lake house, but there was no sign of Jolyn. Penelope, to make amends, made everyone a nice cup of coffee, pumpkin spice tea, or hot chocolate—their choice. Dora stood alone outside by the awning, keeping her mid-aged eyes pinned on the forest that towered just outside the home. Hearing the door open behind her, she turned and saw Penelope carrying two hot cups of coffee,
"Hi…" Penelope smiled awkwardly.
Dora responded with a heavy smile and gladly accepted the java. After taking a steady sip, Dora rested the mug on the thick, wooden railing,
"Thank you…" she smiled more genuinely from the flavor.
"You're welcome…" Penelope nodded. There was a pause between the both of them. Penelope took a quick sip, thinking whether or not it was a great time to speak to a mother who was currently in mama bear mode. But she was already in far too deep. She had already unintentionally caused so much to happen. To return into the house, where her son was safe and sound, would be completely tone-deaf, "Look, I'm really sorry. About everything. I wasn't thinking when I had that gun pointed at your niece..."
Dora turned over to look at her. Although Dora found it difficult to accept her apology, she did it anyway for the sake of her being Arne's wife and for the sake of getting along. In the end, Dora didn't understand it. Dora wouldn't point a gun at a child even if the child were pointing one back.
But Penelope understood. She'd be standoffish towards someone who ever threatened her son too—the whole reason everything transpired the way it did was for the protection of Hunter in the first place.
"The look in his eyes when he saw my gun…" Penelope recollected, "It was like he saw one of those cannibals."
Dora took a deep breath before speaking. She straightened her stance, revealing a glimpse of her true demeanor. She spoke without removing her eyes from the trees dancing from the breezes that pet their peaks,
"Something happened to him back in New York City. And he hasn't spoken a word since."
"Oh…" Penelope swirled the last bit of coffee in her jug and chugged it as if it were a shot glass—something she would've preferred at the moment. Dora deeply into her own headspace, therefore, there wasn't much that could be talked about. Penelope stood up from the outdoor rocking chair and opened the door seconds before looking over at Dora again, "I've got some eggs and corn beef cooking on the stove just in case you're hungry. But if you need anything...just ask me."
Dora nodded and thanked her before turning her attention back on the trees like a soldier on look out. Come on, Jolyn. Where are you?
Jolyn regretted his idiotic decision to run head first into the woodlands. He couldn't recall much of what happened, but all he remembered was seeing a gun pointed at him and everything suddenly going blank. His brain went haywire. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced before, and he was scared to ever had to go through that again. He trudged through the forest, pushing past bushes and branches that would eventually get hooked to his garments. Shit, where am I? He thought to himself. Why the hell would you make such a stupid choice to run in the forest? You're lost now. No food. No water. No family. He judged himself. He always did. But this voice was coming from somewhere else. The source of that voice was his true psyche, trying to make better sense of things. He felt like someone else in that moment, because this wasn't the person that Jolyn remembered himself as. The true Jolyn would've never put himself in the face of danger like this.
The teen thought he possessed the shrewdness to retrace his steps and stumble out from where he entered. But finding a way out was harder than wandering inside. He snaked through multiple trees, fooling himself by thinking he could tell them apart. In reality, they were all identical, roughly having any features that set them apart. Out of the frying pan and into the fire was what this situation turned out to be.
Through the uneasiness of his loud breaths, Jolyn could hear his name being called, but it sounded miles out. He fought to get his inner voice out, and he succeeded,
"MOM!" his voice pierced, hearing another voice right afterward. His eyes wandered around, unable to pinpoint the direction the calls were coming from, "MOM! ADA!"
Each time they shouted, he shouted. But he was positive that they weren't hearing him because they weren't responding with anything else. Drained from his screaming alone, Jolyn held on to a nearby tree to catch his breath. He began to quietly weep as he bent over and looked at the ground,
He softly whimpered before hearing the snapping of a twig. His head shot up and his dark brown orbs instantly searched around, again, unable to locate the source of any sound in the abyss of trees. As desperately as he needed to run, it couldn't outdo his needs to be with his family.
"Mom?" He mumbled "Ada?"
Hearing dirt and leaves crunching behind him, Jolyn turned to see a filthy reanimated trek lifelessly towards him. He screamed and backed away, dodging a grab from the corpse. Jolyn had one thing that no one could top him at, and that was speed. He ran and ran until the reanimated was far out of sight, but as he came to a halt. That's when he heard a random gunshot—BANG! It echoed loudly, ultimately ringing his ears. Before his mind could become frenzied and allow him to take another step, a segment of bark was shot clean off the tree he was using as support. If it weren't for one of Jolyn's irregular movements, the bullet would've fatally gotten him. Instead, Jolyn continued running, blindly vanishing further into the forest.
With widened eyes that nearly looked like they were going to fall out of his head, Jolyn made one mistake and looked back, seeing three masked figures dashing after him: One black, one red, and one blue. All Jolyn could take notice of was the shotgun that the red-masked man was carrying. Facing forward, Jolyn made a quick cut through a tree, basically disappearing like Houdini before their eyes as he ran past a tree; giving the illusion that he didn't come out from the other side.
But as he mindlessly scrambled through the plantation of trees, he felt his foot get hooked on to a tree root and it instantly threw him forward. He extended his arm, partially breaking his fall as he landed, but he began to roll uncontrollably, grunting and yelping as he passed over sharp rocks on the way down. Once he landed, the last thing Jolyn could see was a reanimated stumbling towards him, but before it could lose its footing, it was shot through the side of the head, having a quarter of its skull shot off.
What started off as a tragic hyperventilation slowed down into fights for breath. He weakly tried to keep his eyes open, seeing the corpse's corpse roll down right beside him.
"Là bas!" A masculine voice said, "Le tirer!"
Another gunshot was heard, however, Jolyn had no energy left to get up and run. With his failed attempts to repress his eyes from shutting, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, instantly passing out.
Jolyn came to pretty quickly, having his eyes startled opened to light tremors accompanied by the loud slamming of car doors. Becoming alert relatively quick, his eyes examined his surroundings noticing that his body was laid out in the trunk of a pickup truck, and right beside him was a roll of rope,
"Est-ce qu'il respire?" Jolyn heard a distant voice, sounding similar as the one from the forest.
Another voice that sounded a lot more nasally than the other two it was talking with, began to travel closer to the car. Instantly, Jolyn noticed the stranger's hand grab hold of the edge of the trunk, causing Jolyn to tightened his eyes back shut. He turned his head to the side, hoping it would give a better semblance from the angle the stranger was peering in from,
"Oui, il respire. Que faisons-nous avec lui?" Jolyn overheard.
Although he couldn't understand a word, Jolyn took the chance and opened one eye. He looked to the corner of it, making out a pale looking man with narrow features, a broad forehead, and short, dark blonde bed hair. Just as he turned away to shout some more words at his friends, Jolyn took the chance to jump up and out of the trunk,
"O! Regardez! Regardez! Se retourner!" The two others began to shout frequently.
However, once he landed, he felt a sharp pain in his right ankle. Naturally limping, he didn't get very far until he ended up face planting into a plain of dirt and grass.
Surprised by the sounds of hysterical laughter, Jolyn turned his head over to see the two other Canadian-French men pointing and cackling at him. One, in particular, was mimicking his hops and pretending to fall to the ground. The blonde haired one looked at him, attempting to appear ruthless, but it became clear that he was holding back laughter. He turned red and turned his face away, feeling the least bit sorry for giving in to the ridicule.
Jolyn sat himself up and attempted to stand, looking directly at the young man to look back at him,
"Ça va?"
Jolyn could catch the question mark, but couldn't understand the language. The blonde haired man sized him up, looking a bit more serious this time. He whistled his two companions over, causing Jolyn to grow nervous from there impending approach,
"Est-ce que tu parles Français?" the blonde one spoke again.
Shortly afterward, he leaned into his companions. Jolyn examined the latter of them, at least trying to get an idea of what they were discussing. The second one had the oddest face out of the three of them, looking like the reiteration of a melted Van Gogh painting—or maybe Jolyn was just being too harsh. Generally, he had wavy brown hair, a very mundane face, and ears that fanned out from the sides of his head. The last one, however, possessed dark features—all but his peach skin. He had medium dark brown hair that was cut around his ears with a swoop to his fringe and dark brown, sleepy eyes. His jaw, as well as his cheekbones, were defined, giving him a square shaped face.
"Est-il stupide?" Said the blonde.
Out of all of the words Jolyn had heard from them, that last one could be easily translated. Jolyn bit his bottom lip and narrowed his sights on them. Talking may have been his least favorite thing to do at the moment, but getting away with it made him deeply reconsider it.
"No, I'm not. You're just an asshole" Jolyn scrutinized.
The laughing between the three of them stopped, and they exchanged glares with Jolyn and each other that confirmed Jolyn's comments did what it was intended to do...he just didn't want it to.
"Oh, really?" the blonde one suddenly said with a faint Canadian-French accent, "That's no way to talk to people who saved your sorry ass in those woods, now is it?"
Jolyn looked away with a pout, surprised by how quickly the tables turned.
"You don't sound Canadian..." The odd looking one expressed. Once they began to realize that Jolyn reverted back to being speechless, the same guy brought his hand up to Jolyn's face and snapped at him repeatedly. Thus causing Jolyn to turn his face away even more. He removed his hand, "Garçon étrange..."
"Alright. How about we...introduce ourselves, yeah?" the last one finally started, having the sharpest Canadian sounding English out of all of them. He stuck out the most, therefore, Jolyn would easily glance at him even when he tried not to. Speaking in a calm yet alluringly brittle tone. He gestured to himself, "I am Felix, and these are my brothers," he motioned to the plain brother, "That's Mathieu," and then to the Blonde one, "and that's Noel. What's your name?"
Jolyn moved his lips to the side.
"Bon sang! Speak!" Noel spat, "What's wrong with you?!"
Eventually, he stomped off in frustration, revealing a red mask partially tucked into his back pocket. Without skipping a beat, Mathieu followed, giving Jolyn his fair share of disgusted looks before walking off.
Feeling a lot less cornered around one brother who stood the same height, Jolyn released some withheld breaths, grunting and wincing as he fixed his back up against the trunk of the pickup truck. Felix looked at Jolyn's sprained ankle, realizing that it was probably getting worse with all the added pressure to it.
"We can't force you to speak if you don't want to, but all that's gonna do is keep you out here," Felix said, "So, let's try this again. My name is Felix and those two douchebags were my brothers Noel and Mathieu," he recapitulated. He chuckled, observing the smile that the New Yorker couldn't hold in from the brutal honesty that was basically his exact thoughts. He offered a handshake, "What's your name?"
It was difficult for Felix to hide his vexation as he stood with his hand out for far longer than he expected. Jolyn surely felt remorseful, but there was just a bunch of things going on inside of him that he just couldn't understand. Just as his two older brothers did, Felix became fed up and willingly joined them by calmly walking off.
Without the hassle of the brothers, Jolyn was able to resume being freethinking and observant. Remaining perched on the outskirts of the area, he took a good look at his surroundings and was ultimately able to conclude that he was on some type of farm. The plain was flat and patched with grass, therefore giving a mixed representation of warm and cool colors.
Jolyn couldn't remember since he had last been on a farm, but this farm, in particular, stretched out multiple acres. A wooden, copper-colored fence, with four rails, stretched out for yards. It surrounded the entire perimeter of the property. Beyond that was some more land that eventually crossed into the ominous forests that served as refuge for the dead. Across the street, which he wasn't too distant from Jolyn's whereabouts, had a compact and controlled cornfield. It reminded him a lot of the cornfields he saw in horror films. As big as New York City was, being a native of the big apple still had its cons, and it robbed people of the will fire to become educated on lifestyles that were far beyond the cityscapes. To Jolyn, the current setting felt far more comforting than the lake house, but obviously, it had something to do with what he last experienced there.
In the midst of his monitoring, he would hear roosters and chickens, clucking and doing their infamous calls. As his eyes continued to explore, he saw an old white house with dark grey roofing. It was about twenty-five yards out, and standing on the porch, he could see Felix looking right back at him. Its signature barn, along with pig pens and chicken coups were all within a walkable range from the home.
What was it like to live here? Jolyn wondered. And did the outbreak make it any different? The brothers were living comfortably from what it seemed.
Jolyn limped towards the wide gate that differentiated itself from the wooden fence surrounding the farm. On the ground were engraved tracks from the vehicles that undoubtedly drove in and out. He looked over the fence, seeing watching the old road that extended off into the horizon on one end, and into the forest on the other. He rested on the fence, contemplating on whether or not it would be ideal to leave, seeing that he wasn't being held against his will. He looked over his shoulder and noticed Felix eerily spectating his every move.
Maybe I'll just sleep out here, for now, Jolyn mentally told himself. Making the decision to say, he limped back to the pickup truck. He noticed a large, ashy grey shed that it was parked in the back of. Hoses of various colors were wrapped and hung on hangers on the side of the shed. Once he successfully ventured to the entrance, the first thing that stuck out like a sore thumb was its metallic padlock. He grimaced inaudibly swearing.
Still standing outside of his home, Felix scrutinized the stranger's every movement. With his hands in his pocket, he looked over as the screen door was pushed open. A woman with short platinum grey hair walked out, still wearing a nightgown. It was his mother, Ines. To anyone else, she seemed like a loving mother by the way she looked at her sons and did what was best for them, but she was a complicated woman, overridden with traditional beliefs.
"Iz that him?" She asked having a thicker accent than any of her sons. Felix nodded, "He can't stay out forever."
"Ignore the little shit," Noel cursed from behind the door, "He'll die of starvation and dehydration if the démons don't get to him first."
Ines shushed her son and rushed him back into the house while making her entrance, calling Felix in soon after for dinner. Before entering, Felix looked up and noticed a fat, swirling gray cloud in the sky. With his hands still in his pockets, he walked into the house and made sure to lock the door behind him.