Hey, all you cool people who actually read this part – what does 'life' mean in the story list? It's counting down from 60 days and it's making me nervous – what happens at day 0? A lightning bolt strikes my computer and melts my hard-drive?
Raven1994 and everyone else who commented on how fast I'm updating – Yeah, I'm trying to cram in as much typing as possible before classes start. Which is tomorrow. I was going to try to upload another chapter yesterday, but alas my friend came along and we ended up having an X-Files marathon instead.
Durithyll – Yes, I'm trying to research at least a little about what I'm writing. There's a level of complexity I don't enter into and that's a pretty low level, but typing random and totally made-up facts doesn't sit well with me. I like to have my facts at least grounded in some level of truth.
ellina HOPE – Haha, thanks for the reminder that Abi still exists. I suppose if I wanted to be realistic he'd be calling her. Or at least thinking about her! Wow. Yeah, I laughed at your romantic description. I just can't seem to pull that kind of thing off! YES, I meant to write 'and white', thanks so much for the pointer! I'll fix that. And finally, there's a reason I gave him mild chronic fatigue syndrome, as you will see in the following chapters.
Thuraya Known – Well then, I AM proud I made you want to hug Ben! I'm not that much of a Ben fan myself. As for Riley… like I told ellina HOPE, there IS a reason he's got CFS and clusters, revealed in the following chapters. And wow, you are so perceptive! I'm impressed with how much you notice and are able to see into the characters! Oh, and thanks for the long review, you're right, we love those!
RainaJames – Thankfully I've got one homework-free day left before classes start and I'm officially guaranteed to have no more nights I can type guilt-free. Which isn't to say I won't be typing. I'm not so bad at procrastinating… oh, bad start to the semester…
Dark Duchess of the Underworld – A lot of the info is at least based in fact… it really depends on what you mean. For some of the things I just didn't understand the concrete facts, so I just BS'd my way through as gracefully as I could. I try to be as accurate as possible but I don't hurt my brain trying to understand complicated medical stuff! CFS is just what it sounds like – the victim is often tired and feeling general malaise. Wiki has a pretty good entry on it, if I'm remembering correctly.
Poole – Your review made me feel cool! I'm glad I have the ability to wrench a few tears from someone… Thanks!
Diiiiiiiisclamer: Our heroes aren't really our heroes… they're… well, I'm not entirely sure whose they are, but they aren't mine. And they probably aren't yours.
Frankly I'd never been so glad to see a doctor in my life. Or anyone, for that matter. How had he found us? What was he doing walking around at this hour? Besides the fact that his clinic had just blown up.
"Blackwell! My God, I am so glad you're here, what are you doing?"
"Dan, what's going on? What happened, where's Ryan?" Even in this weird situation, in the rain, the thunder, the shower of wet ash, he looked composed. Concern was plastered across his face but he somehow looked like he'd been in this situation a million times before.
"He's… you have to come see him. I don't know what happened." I led the doctor into the trees where Riley still lay. I watched in anxiety as Blackwell knelt next to Riley.
"Ryan, can you hear me?"
"His name is Riley." It popped out of my mouth faster than I could tell myself not to. Blackwell didn't miss a beat.
"Riley, can you hear me?" There was another incomprehensible mumble. Blackwell held open Riley's eyelids and peered into them. I wondered what he was looking at so I leaned over his shoulder and it seemed almost comical that Riley's pupils were drastically different sizes. It couldn't mean anything good though, and the way Blackwell looked up at me with a total lack of humor confirmed it.
"He has a concussion. Is it possible he got hit in the head?"
"Yes, quite." Blackwell turned back to Riley.
"What day is it, Riley?" Riley just looked confused.
"Blackwell?" he may have asked, although there really wasn't that much voice behind it. Blackwell nodded in encouragement.
"I am, I'm Blackwell. Can you tell me the day?"
"October…" His eyes screwed up in concentration before getting that weird distant look in them, and finally they shut altogether. The doctor stood up.
"We have to get him to my house. You mind carrying him? I have a bad back." I shook my head, and bent down to pick up the unconscious Riley, holding him in my arms at the request of the doctor, who didn't want any more blood rushing to his head via the fireman's carry. It made it a whole lot harder to follow the doctor, as anyone who has ever tried the two styles of carrying a body would know. Especially if their legs were beginning to register the injuries they'd just acquired by frolicking through a field of burning splinters of building material. But hey, I wasn't about to complain. At least I was still conscious.
My mind flew as I followed Blackwell to his house. First on my list of worries was a battle between Riley and being seen. My immediate attention was split between the two – I didn't know how serious concussions were, really. I knew they varied in dangerousness and there was no longer a clinic to treat him at. But I knew he was in the care of a very competent man. All I could do was follow Blackwell. As for being seen… well, the whole neighborhood of five or six houses was alive and awake, either peering through their windows or standing on their lawn, faces all lit up with the diminishing flares from the fire. A fire truck had arrived at the scene and was effectively dousing the building into muddy wreckage, far better than burning wreckage. Police cars – probably the only two in town – were parked nearby, lights flashing. The police themselves were most likely searching the town for the perpetrator. Each second that passed without our being seen amazed me. If we weren't a suspicious looking scene, I don't know what was. Where were the police?
And why the heck had the clinic blown up, anyways? I wanted to suspect the work of that crazy gas-lighting pyromaniac running around, but I got a nagging dread that the only reason the building had exploded was because we had been in it and someone besides Blackwell had known that. I hoped no-one was on our trail already.
I suddenly missed Abigail. I'd been trying not to think about her so far, not wanting to tempt myself to get her involved. Who knew what kind of alert calling her would set off? What if there was another Wilkinson running around with a copy of my cell? But I missed her. No offence to Riley but he never really offered much comfort when I needed it. Usually it was the other way around, and frankly, I was quite ready to be on the receiving end of some sympathy for once.
Dang nabbit, it wasn't fair. Riley gets headaches. Riley gets a concussion. Riley is unconscious. Riley barely knows what's going on. Everyone cares about Riley. Ben knows exactly what's going on. Ben has to balance two impossible weights. Ben has the entire country sitting on his shoulders. Ben has to carry Riley to Blackwell's house.
I mentally shanked myself. I hated myself when I wallowed in irrational self-pity. But wallowing in irrational self-pity felt really good at the moment, even though I knew I was being a jerk. It was better than thinking about everything else. Maybe I could be my own Abigail until I could get a hold of her. Even though Abi would sooner slap me across the face than tell me that life wasn't fair and faun over me, and I sure wasn't about to slap myself. Mostly because both my hands were full of Riley.
To the delight of all four of my aching limbs, Blackwell's house wasn't far, but that should have been no surprise, since this was, after all, Henrytown. It was a relatively small house, tiny by most standards, but well-kept. Even now in October their garden somehow looked tidy, lawn well-cared for. Having a lawn at all was pretty huge in this part of the state. As we neared the three steps up to the front door, I felt, rather than heard, Riley moan. I shifted him around a bit so I could see his face and the first thing I noticed was that his pupils were still different sizes. His right eye was tearing up all over the place, although it could have been the rain. He moaned more audibly this time and Blackwell glanced back at us briefly as he reached for the doorknob. Before his hand touched the knob the door flew open and I gasped.
"Laudes!" What the heck? Was she his wife?
"Oh ye gods, what the devil is going on? Come in, come in, you'll catch pneumonia!"
"Not what we're worried about right now," I muttered as I passed her by. Riley was starting to struggle in my arms and it was all I could do not to drop him flat on the ground. Blackwell led me into his living room and showed me where to deposit Riley, which I did so gratefully, almost dropping him halfway over as he jerked violently. The air in here was warm and I felt very tingly all of a sudden, something I blamed on the sudden change in temperature. Maybe the aftermath of a sudden extreme adrenaline rush.
I went back into the living room, legs starting to ache, and Blackwell was already crouched next to Riley, who looked like he was trying to get up. The doctor was wielding a syringe and looked like he was having trouble holding the desired patch of Riley still. He wasn't talking to Riley. What was even more alarming was that the doctor looked genuinely concerned. I limped over to them and tried my best to hold Riley still, or at least his arm, and succeeded for just long enough for Blackwell to stick him again. Riley's arm was very tense and it didn't surprise me when some of the liquid came squirting back out again, but it still made me feel a little queasy.
"Do you need to do that over?" I asked. Blackwell stood up. I remained by Riley's side, keeping him from getting up.
"No, I knew some was going to come back out so I added more to the dosage." What a genius. Riley's state was getting more alarming by the minute – he didn't seem to be conscious but he was trying to get up. Like a panicked sleepwalker. Except one eye was crying and sleepwalkers don't usually look like they're in intense pain.
"So what is that stuff, atomoxiwhatever? Abortive?"
"No, it's sumatriptan. Yes, abortive." He changed his gaze from Riley to me. Raised his eyebrow. I suddenly felt like a specimen in a test tube.
"Why did you say atomoxitine?" Why had I said atomoxiwhatever? I'd heard so many weird medical terms in the last day, they were all floating around in my head in no order whatsoever.
"Um… I've heard it used in the last day. Weren't you talking about it?"
"No, I don't see why I would have been. It's used for ADHD treatment, it's an antidepressant." Why had that come out of my mouth? Where had I heard that?
"Oh, I remember, Riley was telling me he takes that. But he told me it was for chronic fatigue syndrome. Said he's had it since he was fifteen."
"Atomoxitine…" The doctor started pacing slowly back and forth, looking very thoughtful.
"Well… atomoxitine is used to treat CFS. It just seems to me that… ADHD would be a little more probable than CFS, seeing how young he is, and his temperament… not that I know much about his normal temperament." He looked at me in question. I nodded.
"Well… not that I'm an expert, but Riley can be kind of restless and fidgety. And talkative. Seems to fit his temperament more than CFS." As if irritated by the fact that the doctor and I were doubting his word, Riley gave one more violent jerk, accompanied by a frustrated cry, and lay back in the bed. He curled slowly into a loose ball on his side, hands assuming their regular cluster headache position. He dissolved into quiet moans.
"Riley?" I asked, expecting no answer whatsoever.
"Where are we?" he asked. Blackwell lowered himself in front of Riley.
"You're at my house. You've got a mild concussion, so just try to take it easy, alright?" Riley blew out a breath and I could tell he was trying to loosen up a bit.
"Is the headache going away? I gave you some sumatriptan."
"Yeah, I think so…"
"Riley, Dan told me you told him that you've taken atomoxitine." Riley peered at the doctor through slitted eyes.
"Yeah, for CFS."
"Not ADHD?"
"No. Most definitely CFS. Hard to believe, huh?" The way he said it erased some of the doubt in my mind. I had been kind of sure Riley had lied, and had been wondering why he'd done that, but now I was fairly certain he was telling the truth. Why was that? I have no idea.
"Alright. That's not important. Do you have any of the atomoxitine with you right now?"
"No, it's all in my backpack in the car."
"Riley, have you ever had head trauma in the past? Say, before your headaches began?" Riley looked a bit confused at this point and I could tell he was trying to think. He looked much less pained now.
"Um, no. Nothing." The doctor sighed, sounding pensive. Looking thoughtful. Why did he care so much all of a sudden about Riley's medical past? He knew far too much already for what I would have preferred. What else was he going to ask for? I was starting to get a bit fidgety myself.
"Look, not that I don't think this is important, but the clinic just blew up and I'm kind of nervous as to why."
"Hello Dan, Ri." Laudes had just walked into the room, reminding me how surprised I was to see her.
"So," I asked them, "You two… live together?" Laudes spoke before Blackwell could open his mouth.
"Oh no, not usually. He's my brother-in-law. I do his gardening. Garrison, I just called the police. They say the clinic was destroyed with ANFO."
"What's ANFO?" Blackwell and I asked at the same time.
"An explosive. It's not anything a small-town criminal would be able to find. People don't just happen to have it lying around. It's serious stuff." Blackwell finished the thought.
"So… either our village criminal has upped his standards or it was someone else's doing."
"Well… Would you belive Georgia Finn's garage also just burned down? Like a few minutes before the clinic exploded. And they found evidence of gas tanks at the site."
"Sooooo, it was definitely a different guy with the ANFO?" I asked, hoping someone would offer some logical explanation as to why I was wrong. No-one answered.
"Dammit," said Riley, and I found myself agreeing. Someone knew where we were. They could even know we were here in this house. I hoped they hadn't stuck around to see if we had made it out of the clinic alive. I hoped they'd just driven away.
"You two are no longer safe in Henrytown," mused Blackwell in a very depressing way. He sighed. He thought. The front door flew open and everyone jumped. A young man came storming into the room and stopped suddenly when he saw everyone gathered in the living room.
"What were you doing outside, Jeremy, there're criminals running around left and right!" Laudes approached the young man. He had long black hair, definitely part of the family somehow. Or so I assumed. I caught Blackwell boring holes into my skull and the look he was giving me was either 'I hate you' or 'be careful' and I vouched for the latter, because, well, the first one wouldn't make any sense. Laudes introduced him.
"This is Jeremy, my son. Garrison's nephew. Jeremy, these are-"
"Daniel. That's Ryan," I told him, holding out my hand. He shook it, looking non too pleased to make our aquaintences.
"Garrison," said Laudes, looking a bit worried, "Will you go outside and ask them what's going on?"
"We know enough what's going on. Someone's trying to kill these two and we need to protect them." In the jumble of everything that had been happening I had forgotten to be concerned about what Laudes was hearing, let alone this shifty looking young man, who I thought Blackwell had 'told' me to be careful about. Why? I didn't know. Things were happening far too quickly for my tired mind to follow. I struggled to contain everything that had just happened, who we were to these people, what each person was supposed to know or not know.
"Garrison, please, go ask them who they think did that." Blackwell looked doubtful for a moment, before turning to Jeremy, who had been pretty much staring curiously at Riley nonstop since he arrived.
"Jeremy, you come with me, then."
"Why?"
"Don't ask questions, Jeremy, we don't have time. I need your help out there." Jeremy shook his head in a rebellious young mansort of way.
"No way, I was just out there. It's chaos. I'm staying in here. I haven't even eaten yet." Jeremy walked into the kitchen. I had an inane thought pop up through all the thoughts I was having about the uncomfortable situation; maybe we'd get some bean soup after all.
"Blackwell, can I talk to you outside?" He looked at me, still doubtful, but nodded and walked outside, me in tow. I heard Riley call after me weakly but I kept walking. He'd be fine in there with Laudes for a few minutes. Maybe they could discuss Laudes's garden. Once we shut the door Blackwell turned to me and started talking before I could start up.
"Don't tell Jeremy anything. I don't know what he would do about this, he's a jumpy one. I just don't trust him with what's going on." I already knew that but it wasn't very heartening to hear it from the doctor's mouth.
"What are we going to do?"
"I don't know, Ben. We're going to have to get out of here, and quick. I'm assuming that blast was meant to kill you, and if your chasers realize you're still alive, Henrytown isn't the place to be. I need to go pick up the prescriptions for Riley and we need to stop by your car to get the rest of your things. Then we're out of here."
"Where are we going?"
"The Hoodoos." It should have struck me that spending a few days at minimum out in the middle of the desert with nothing to eat or drink might just kill us, but at the time it sounded like a really great idea to me. Anything to get us away from this place. Blackwell looked as if he was about to leave.
"What about Laudes and Jeremy? Laudes might know too much for her to be safe."
"Jeremy won't want to come anyways, but if we have to bring Laudes… I trust her. I'll be back as soon as I can. Do you have your keys on you?" I dug in my pocket and handed them over. He took off down the sidewalk.
I really wanted to stand on the sidewalk and let despair and worry descend upon my head and possibly knock me out, but for some reason I turned back around and shut the door behind me. I walked into the living room and froze.
Face to face with the barrel of a gun.
Ooooookay. So mostly I just wanted to post something today before my classes all start and I never have time again. Which is sort of sad because this is a transition chapter and seriously, nothing much happened. Besides a whole lot more unanswered questions. As if you couldn't tell. I really don't like this chapter. Hopefully the next one will be a bit more interesting. And this one is darned short, too. I hate writing short chapters.
