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The Broken Silence
Chapter 26
Bore Da
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Zack pressed his face against the window as the plane landed, observing the fog and rain with a frown.
"Not a very nice day out," he commented, looking disappointed. "It's a good thing you made me bring a raincoat!"
Mime Bomb rolled his eyes. He had fought with Zack for over an hour before they left San Diego as he tried to get the other boy to pack rain boots, umbrella, and coat, but Zack was determined the weather was supposed to be nice. Zack had even shown him the weather app on his phone, but Mime Bomb knew what Wales was like, and still insisted on the rain-gear. Finally Ivy had packed them for Zack, just wanting Zack to stop arguing about it.
"Where did you find clear rainboots?" Zack asked, watching as Mime Bomb put them on over top of his normal shoes.
Mime Bomb gave him a shrug, and then reached for his raincoat which was also clear. Mime Bomb was dressed in his usual striped sweater and black pants, and Zack hadn't been able to dissuade him from it. Zack had no idea what Alys's reaction would be to finding out she had a mime for a brother, but hoped Mime Bomb wouldn't end up being disappointed.
Zack put on his own raincoat, and stared out the window, hoping it wouldn't rain the whole time they were in Wales. He could see the nervousness lurking in Mime Bomb's eyes, and gave him a reassuring smile, knowing that in less than an hour, they'd be meeting Alys.
"Player, did you get us a rental car?" Zack asked, pressing is com.
"Sure did, Zack. It's a very nice red one."
"Sweet, red cars are always the best," he commented. "Where are we picking it up?"
It should be waiting for you in the parking lot," Player told him. "Now, remember that in Wales you drive on the left side of the road."
"Yeah, yeah," Zack responded. "Ivy already made me read an online brochure about safe driving in Wales. She even quizzed me about it afterwards!"
"Make sure to call her once you get a cell signal," Player instructed. "She's been going crazy with worry since you left."
Zack frowned at that, not liking to worry his sister, but knowing that he'd had no choice. "Oh geez...okay I'll call her right now."
"Keep in touch and have fun, guys."
Zack immediately pulled out his com and video-called Ivy. She answered on the first ring, the screen filled with worried blue eyes.
"Zack?! What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
Zack rolled his eyes. "Relax, Ivy. I'm just calling to let you know we arrived in Wales."
Ivy let out a breath of relief. "How's Mime Bomb?"
"He's safe too." Zack assured her. "It's raining just like he said it would be. We're about to leave the plane now to find our rental car."
Ivy gave him a nod. "Call me back once you're in your hotel room, because I want to hear about Wales."
Zack grinned at her. "Sure thing, Iv."
The com was suddenly snatched from Ivy, and Tigress' furious face filled the screen. "Put. The. Mime. On. The. Phone." she growled out, her eyes narrowed.
Zak stared at her with wide eyes, and then handed the com over to Mime Bomb. The second he appeared in view, Tigress went ballistic.
"You're so dead, mime, dead ! I'm going to be waiting at the airport to beat your ass the second you get off the damn plane in San Diego! There won't be enough left to identify you! I'm going to snap every bone in your body and then mail you back to Wales in a shoebox ! You're DEAD."
The com then went silent as the call ended.
Zack glanced over at Mime Bomb. "...I think she just discovered you deleted her save file."
Mime Bomb grimaced, not looking forward to his return to San Diego. He now felt that he may have overreacted a bit by deleting her save file…
Zack let out a laugh at his expression and clapped him on the back. "Well, we might as well make the most of your last few days on Earth. Come on, let's go check out Cardiff."
Mime Bomb nodded and grabbed his umbrella, which was also clear, and then headed for the door of the plane as the pilot opened it. Opening his umbrella, he stepped outside into Wales for the first time in 15 years. Mime Bomb inhaled deeply as he went down the stairs, but all he could smell was the scent of oil and exhaust fumes from the airport. Zack was clearly excited as he made his way outside, and he threw an arm around Mime Bomb's shoulders with a grin.
"So, what should we do first? Breakfast?"
Mime Bomb gave a shrug, feeling a bit nervous, his stomach in knots.
"That wasn't a no, and I'm starving, so let's go get our car and get food!"
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Neal let out a low groan, and raised a hand to his head. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw he was laying in a puddle of vomit and grimaced. Unsure of whether it was his or Crackle's, he sat up and gagged at the smell of the room. The whole room smelled like a cross between a brewery and vomit, and Neal felt his stomach begin to turn. Holding a hand to his mouth until the nausea passed, he took a deep breath, and slowly peeled the disgusting blankets away from himself.
Rubbing at his pounding head, he glanced beside him at Crackle who was snoring loudly, and clearly still passed out. Glancing down at himself, Neal grimaced at the state of his clothes, and knew he was going to need a shower. As he clutched his head and got to his feet, he realized he'd be able to have the first shower for once.
Grabbing a clean set of clothes, he stumbled his way to the bathroom, turned on the shower and then peeled his disgusting clothes off. Stepping under the hot water, he let out a breath of relief, already feeling a little better. He stood there simply enjoying the water for about five minutes, before he heard the bathroom door open.
"Er...bathroom's occupied," he called out.
He then heard the sound of coughing and retching in the direction of the toilet. Poking his head out around the shower curtain, he saw Dash clutching the toilet as he vomited, looking completely miserable.
"You okay, fancy?"
"Does it look like I'm okay, you idiot?" Dash snarled back at him, before once again retching into the bowl.
"Geez, you only had four beer," Neal pointed out. "Crackle had like twelve."
"Shut up, Neal," Dash snapped, clearly not in the mood to talk to him.
"You really can't hold your liquor, fancy. I guess you should stick to Pepsi."
"I can hold my liquor just fine," Dash retorted. "There was just something wrong with that weird beer. I've never felt so awful."
"Whatever you say, Dash," Neal snickered, and went back to his shower without another word.
Neal purposely took as long as he could to give Dash time to finish, but after twenty minutes, Neal finally turned the water off in the shower. Poking his head out, he saw Dash was exactly in the same position, looking just as miserable.
"Um, I need to get dressed, fancy…"
"Believe me, I'm not looking," Dash retorted.
Neal gave a shrug and stepped out, and grabbed a towel as he did so. He watched as Dash dry-heaved into the bowl and was amazed that only four beer could do this to someone.
"Have you ever had beer before?" Neal questioned as he got dressed. "Maybe you're allergic to it?"
"I'm not allergic to beer," Dash snapped. "It's probably just this cheap garbage that my body can't handle. I'm used to expensive drinks."
Neal rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, fancy. I'm going to the store to get some hangover supplies, do you want ginger ale for your stomach?"
Dash was being sick again and couldn't answer, and so Neal took that as a yes, and left the bathroom. His head was pounding, and he knew he needed fluids and painkillers in order to function that day. Wincing as he entered the smelly bedroom, he glanced at the others, and had a feeling they'd be wanting something for their hangovers as well. Grabbing his wallet, Neal left the room, and stepped outside, wincing as the bright sun felt like it was piercing his skull.
Rubbing at his head as he walked, Neal knew there was a gas station nearby and headed for it. Neal usually handled his liquor pretty well, and knew he'd be fine after popping a few aspirin. Neal came to the gas station just a few minutes later, and when he entered, the girl working the front counter glanced up from her magazine.
"Welcome to Gas Mart," she drawled, sounding like she'd rather be anywhere but working at the moment. "Today's specials are two for one sports drinks and .50 chocolate bars. Let me know if you need any help."
She had already gone back to her magazine before she was even done speaking, and so Neal wandered back to the coolers to look for supplies. Grabbing an armful of Gatorades and Ginger Ale, he headed for the register. He set the drinks on the counter and as the cashier began ringing them in, Neal noticed the more expensive items were kept behind the counter.
"31.08," she told him. "Cash or card?"
Squinting at the items on the shelf behind her, he pointed towards the painkillers. "Could I also get a box of Aspirin and Tylenol? Oh, maybe those Antacids too."
She let out a sigh, paused the transaction and then turned to grab what he wanted. She then rang them in as a nearby candy display caught Neal's attention.
"52.39."
Neal grabbed a handful of the .50 chocolate bars and placed them on the counter. He then placed a pack of gum on the counter as well, the cashier glaring at him as he did so.
"Is that everything?" she demanded impatiently.
"Yes, I think so, love," Neal responded, his gaze landing on the nearby wall of slushie machines.
"$63.57."
"Actually, can you add a small slushie too?"
She gave him a dirty look and pressed a few buttons on her register a bit harder than necessary. "$65.05."
Neal then placed a pack of tictacs on the counter as well, and the cashier glared at him, as she once again had to press several buttons to add the item to his total.
"66.66."
"Hey, lucky number!" Neal exclaimed, grinning at the unamused cashier.
Neal handed over cash and as the cashier bagged up his purchases, he headed over to grab his slushie. As he filled a cup with blue slushie, he wondered if this was where Crackle had purchased his massive bag of candy a few days ago. Approaching the cashier to grab his bags, he was amused by the glare she was sending him.
"Thanks, love," he told her, heading for the door.
"Come again," she drawled out. "...Or not," she added in a softer tone.
Neal grinned, but didn't let her know he'd heard her, deciding he was now going to be a regular customer at this gas station. As he walked back to the motel, he popped a couple Aspirin in his mouth and took a sip of his slushie, wincing when it was not the flavour he was expecting.
"Blech, why is this pineapple?" he muttered, glancing at the blue drink with a frown.
Feeling somewhat betrayed, he took another sip, and frowned, not liking the flavour but still drinking it anyway. By the time he got back to the motel, he had finished the slushie and tossed it in the trashcan at the entrance of the motel.
Opening the door to the room, he entered, immediately gagging at the smell. Setting the drinks on the nearby nightstand, Neal glanced at his teammates and then approached his bed. He carefully removed the sheets and blankets, and then rolled Crackle into the center of the bed, hoping he wasn't going to be sick again.
Tossing the soiled linen outside the door, he turned to look at the others. Luckily no one else had been sick, and he noticed Dash was missing. Heading for the bathroom, he found him curled up in the fetal position next to the toilet, looking absolutely miserable. Neal knelt down next to him, and placed a hand on Dash's shoulder.
"You should go lay back down," he suggested. "Those four beer are really kicking your ass."
"Shut up, Neal," Dash muttered. "I think I've been poisoned, my stomach is killing me."
"Don't be such a wimp, princess, it's just a hangover. Come on, I'll help you back to bed."
To Neal's surprise, Dash actually allowed Neal to help him back to his feet, and he then stumbled his way back to bed. Neal grabbed the pills, opened them, and then carried a couple back to Dash with a bottle of the ginger ale.
"Drugs and ginger for you, my dear," Neal said in a tone that was much too chipper for Dash's tastes.
Dash glared at him and then snatched the pills and bottle from him without a word. Not even checking to see what they were, Dash popped the pills into his mouth and took a sip of the ginger ale. Setting the bottle aside, he then rolled away from Neal without a word of thanks.
Popping a couple more of the pills himself, Neal took a seat on the bed next to Crackle and turned the tv on, making sure the volume was kept extremely low. Neal had a feeling that they were all getting an extra day off and certainly wasn't complaining.
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Mime Bomb grew up on the outskirts of Cardiff and since he wasn't very familiar with the main city he was discovering everything right alongside Zack. Zack was excitedly pointing out everything he found interesting as they drove along, but the boy's priority was food and so he kept driving until he saw a restaurant. Zack pulled over and then squinted at the sign written in Welsh.
"Do they serve breakfast here?" he asked Mime Bomb, who was also staring at the sign.
Mime Bomb couldn't read Welsh very well since he'd only been seven when he'd last read anything in Welsh, but he was able to understand the sign well enough and gave a nod.
"Okay, time to find out how the Welsh eat breakfast!" Zack announced. "I'm starving!"
Removing the key from the ignition, Zack got out of the car and looked up at the sign, frowning at the consonants that seemed to be mashed together to make the words.
"I can't even begin to guess how to say any of these words," he commented.
Mime Bomb simply shook his head in amusement and they entered the restaurant, the smell of grease heavy in the air. A waitress approached them and gave Mime Bomb a grin.
"Bore da, hello," she greeted.
"Hi," Zack greeted. "We're hoping to get breakfast?"
"Sure, it's not everyday we get a mime in Cardiff!"
She led them over to a booth and set two menus on the table in front of them.
"English menu is on the back," she told them. "Can I get you a drink to start with?"
"Orange juice for me," Zack told her, and then he glanced at Mime Bomb. "Coffee, right?"
Mime Bomb nodded, and the waitress gave him another smile.
"I'm sorry, but your costume is absolutely adorable! Are you in a play or something?"
Zack gave her a grin. "Yeah, something like that," he answered.
"That's really awesome! I'll be right back with your drinks." she told them, heading for the kitchen.
"So that's a Welsh accent," Zack commented, glancing after the waitress. "I'm trying to picture you speaking with that accent… Would you still have a Welsh accent or would you have a British accent from all that time you spent growing up in that fancy private school?"
Mime Bomb raised an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look.
"Oh...right. I suppose you wouldn't know," Zack said with a laugh, picking up his menu. He glanced at it with a wrinkled nose and then flipped it over to the English side.
Mime Bomb first glanced through the English side and then flipped it over to the Welsh side. He quickly noticed that the prices were cheaper on the Welsh side even though the menu items were exactly the same. Amused, he knew this was a tactic a lot of businesses pulled, calling it the tourist tax.
"So, what should I get?" Zack asked. "I want to try authentic Welsh food."
Mime Bomb pointed to an item and Zack looked at it with a frown. "Laverbread platter? What's laverbread?"
The waitress returned and placed a mug of coffee on the table in front of Mime Bomb, and a tall glass of orange juice in front of Zack. "Laverbread is a Welsh specialty made of fried oats and seaweed."
Zack couldn't stop the horrified look from crossing his face and he shot Mime Bomb a betrayed look. "You were going to let me eat seaweed?! Dude, you know how much I hate anything that comes out of the ocean!"
"He may not have known what laverbread was," the waitress told him with an amused smile. "It's a very old Welsh dish that's not made anywhere else in the world."
Zack shot Mime Bomb a glare. "He's Welsh, and so he knew very well what he was doing."
The waitress glanced at Mime Bomb in surprise now noticing that he was looking at the Welsh side of the menu.
"Ble ydych chi'n byw?" she asked him in interest.
Mime Bomb pointed a finger down at the floor and she frowned at him in confusion.
"Sorry, he can't speak, he's completely mute," Zack explained. "What did you ask him?"
"Oh, I was just wondering where he was from."
"He's from here, actually," Zack told her. "He's been away for a long time though. We're visiting his sister."
The waitress now understood what Mime Bomb meant by his gesture, and gave a nod. "Wonderful!" she said. "Welcome home! Now, what can I get for you two?"
"You know what, I'm going to try this weird seaweed bread!" Zack announced, giving Mime Bomb a smug look. "I've never actually tried seaweed, so maybe it'll be the one thing from the ocean I'll like?"
"That's the spirit!" the waitress said with a laugh. "One Laverbread platter, and for you, Mr. Mime?"
"He'll have the same!" Zack said. "If I have to suffer, then so does he!"
Mime Bomb rolled his eyes, but made no protest. The waitress took their menus and then headed for the kitchen. Mime Bomb added cream and sugar to his coffee and then downed it, his nervousness obvious. Zack didn't comment, but when Mime Bomb suddenly stood up, he gave him a questioning look. He made the sign for bathroom, and Zack gave a nod and so Mime Bomb left the table.
When Mime Bomb was sure Zack wasn't paying attention, he left the restaurant and walked down the sidewalk until he was around the corner. The rain had stopped for now, and he gave another glance around to make sure he was alone, and then pulled out Zack's com.
Biting his lower lip nervously, he dialled his sister's number. Holding the phone to his ear, he waited and waited as the phone rang, and he leaned against the brick wall of the restaurant, hoping she would answer. After fifteen or twenty rings, the call finally was answered.
[[You had better have a very good reason for calling me at seven in the morning,]] Alys snapped in Welsh.
Mime Bomb winced, not realizing it was so early in the morning.
"Bore da?" Alys demanded when there was no answer. "Hello?"
Mime Bomb had just wanted to hear his sister's voice for a moment, but it made him feel a little bit pained that he wasn't able to answer her.
[[I work nights, and am not in the mood for this,]] Alys commented. [[Who is this?]]
Mime Bomb heard fumbling and assumed she was looking at the caller I.D.
"You again!" she snapped in English, "I told you to never call me again! Whatever scam you're trying to pull isn't going to work! You woke me up after I worked a fourteen hour shift at the pub, and I swear I'm going to track you down and punch your nose down your throat, twll tin!"
Mime Bomb wished he could say something to her, but could only listen as she got even angrier.
"You're really not going to say anything, you creepy mouth-breather? Is this how you get off? Calling up women and trying to scare them? I dare you to try this shite in person. I guarantee you won't be walking after I get through with you."
Mime Bomb knew the calls were making Alys angry, but this was the only way he could hear her voice for now.
"Don't call me again!" Alys warned.
The call went dead and Mime Bomb heaved a sigh and pocketed the com. Turning around, he nearly had a heart attack when he saw Zack standing behind him. The other boy was staring at him, arms crossed, and Mime Bomb wasn't sure how much Zack had overheard from the com.
"Interesting bathroom," Zack commented, glancing around. "If you wanted to call Alys, I could have helped ya, bud. You didn't have to sneak away to call her. Do you want me to call her back for you?"
Mime Bomb violently shook his head and headed back for the restaurant. Zack followed along behind him, not quite sure what was going through Mime Bomb's mind, but he could see he was upset and so he dropped the topic. When they took their seats back in the restaurant, Mime Bomb was carefully avoiding Zack's gaze, and so Zack decided to distract him.
"You want some more coffee?" he asked. "I know you normally drink like four cups of the stuff during breakfast at home."
Mime Bomb gave him a nod, still keeping his eyes down.
Zack frowned at him, and then flagged down their waitress as she passed by.
"He drinks coffee as fast as he breathes oxygen, so is there anyway we can just get a pot for our table?"
"Sorry, hun, that's against the rules, but I'll keep a close eye and keep topping him up anytime he gets low."
The waitress gave Mime Bomb a wink, and then filled his cup. "Your breakfast will be out in just a few minutes."
Mime Bomb added cream and sugar to his coffee, but still wasn't looking at Zack.
"Look, I don't care that you lied to me," Zack assured him. "I get it, I really do. I know you're nervous about meeting her, but you're not alone, and I'm here to help you. I'll stay with you the whole time. There's nothing to worry about."
Mime Bomb slowly looked up at him, and Zack gave him a smile of encouragement.
"Everything's going to be fine. Stop worrying about it and have fun. Aren't you excited to see your home again?"
Mime Bomb had to admit that he was rather excited about being back in Wales and gave him a nod. Their waitress then returned with their food and placed two identical plates down in front of them. She then set a piece of paper and pencil down on the table.
"Every day we have a different question, and if you get it right, your meal is free."
Zack reached out and flipped the piece of paper over. He saw the most complicated math problem he'd ever seen and simply sputtered. "No one could solve this!" he protested.
"The owner used to be a maths professor at a university in Russia. He always thinks it's fun to make up daily math questions for his customers to solve."
"I don't even know what half of this is," Zack commented. "Ugh, math."
"You have until you're finished eating to solve it," she told them with a laugh. "Let me know if I can get you anything."
Zack let out a snort and tossed the paper aside, turning his attention to his food. He saw everything on the plate was fried with not a vegetable in sight. Ignoring the black pile of goo sitting in the center of the plate, Zack speared a sausage and took a bite, finding nothing to complain about. He wrinkled his nose when he noticed the first thing Mime Bomb went for was the black goo.
"You're not really going to eat that, are you? It looks like...tar."
Mime Bomb gave the black substance a sniff, and the smell was one he knew, and he brought the fork to his mouth as Zack watched on in horror. The taste of the laverbread brought back memories of his family eating out and him flicking a forkful of laverbread at his older sister. She had retaliated by slamming a handful into his hair, and their mother had laughed, much to his grandmother's chagrin. They had been happy then, and Mime Bomb smiled fondly at the memory.
"It can't be that good," Zack said skeptically, watching his expression. "Do you think I would like it?"
Mime Bomb immediately shook his head, knowing Zack would definitely not like the salty laverbread.
"Here, you have it then," Zack then scraping it onto his plate. "You can give me one of your sausages to make up for it."
They ate in silence, and Mime Bomb flipped over the question sheet out of curiosity. He glanced at it for a moment, and then reached for the pencil.
"Are you actually going to try to figure that out?" Zack asked incredulously.
Mime Bomb began writing and Zack leaned over to watch. He then rolled his eyes when he saw he wrote down 69.
"Very mature Mime Bomb," he commented, secretly jealous he hadn't thought of that.
The waitress came back to fill Mime Bomb's mug again, and she saw the answer sheet. "Oh, are you ready to submit your answer to the owner? Not many people even try."
"Well, it's about as good as it will get," Zack replied.
"Well, good luck," she told them, taking the piece of paper away.
"I wish we could see the owner's face when he sees your answer," Zack said with a snicker. "You do me proud, brother mine."
They were just finishing their breakfast when the waitress returned with an old man by her side.
"You're the two young men who solved the equation just now?"
Zack choked on his juice and stared at him with wide eyes. "Eh?" he asked eloquently.
"Using a calculator is cheating," he informed them. "I'm sorry, but I can't award you the free breakfast for that."
"What?" Zack asked, feeling completely confused. "What are you talking about?"
"You didn't show any of your work, and so I would have marked this wrong if you were my students. Unfortunately I cannot accept this answer since you obviously cheated."
Zack was instantly offended. "We didn't cheat! We were just writing down a random number and happened to get it right! It was meant to be a joke and we didn't know it was the real answer!"
The owner stared at the two boys in front of him and knew considering what the answer was, this was a definite possibility. He placed a new sheet of paper down in front of them.
"Very well, then here is tomorrow's question. If you get this one right, your meal is free."
Zack crossed his arms. "You know, there were no rules listed on that question sheet. Even if we did guess, we still got it right. This kinda seems like you're trying to weasel out of giving us our free meals."
The owner frowed at Zack, and narrowed his eyes, instinctively knowing Zack was the type of student he would have hated.
"It's my business and I make the rules," he responded. "But fine, you beat the system. Now, don't you feel proud of yourself?"
Zack gave him a dirty look. Without a word, he took out his wallet and slammed twenty pounds onto the table.
"Come on, Mime Bomb, let's go." he said, glaring at the owner.
Mime Bomb set down the pencil and then got up to follow Zack out of the restaurant. Once they were gone, the owner turned scolding eyes to the waitress.
[[Don't waste my time with kids just goofing off,]] he said. [[One was dressed as a clown, for god's sake. Kids nowadays are ridiculous.]]
He then snatched back the question sheet, and then paused. The correct answer of 247.9624 was written on the bottom. Like before, no work was shown. Frowning, he turned to the waitress.
[[Who did this?]] he demanded.
[[The mime,]] she responded.
[[And he used a calculator?]]
The waitress shook her head. [[No, sir, I saw him just turn the sheet over, stare at it for a moment and then write his answer.]]
"Вот чёрт!" The owner muttered in Russian. "Это может быть он."
Without another word, he hurried to the door, but he was too late as Zack was already pulling away from the curb. He stared after them and then let out another curse.
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Julia had poured over every document in the folder multiple times. Dozens of lives had been ruined by A.C.M.E, and she had verified the information by researching each and every person in the folder. She had made phone calls, poured over newspaper articles, and it looked like Chase was correct. Julia sat head-in-hand, knowing there was no denying that A.C.M.E was corrupt. She had been helping a corrupt organization hurt people in their quest to take down V.I.L.E.
Julia sat back in her seat, and crossed her arms, simply staring down at the folder with an angry frown. The very last page in the folder had been her own profile which showed A.C.M.E had set up measures to get rid of her if she proved disloyal to their cause. They were going to fire her from Interpol, and make sure she could never work with law enforcement again. They were going to ruin her life when she hadn't even done anything to deserve it.
Julia was back in Poitiers and so far it seemed A.C.M.E were none the wiser about her detour to San Diego. They had contacted her to tell her to stay put while they 'restructured' A.C.M.E, but Julia knew how much they were hurting after the loss of so many agents. It would be months or even years before they were strong enough to take on V.I.L.E again. Julia had no intention of waiting for them to cut her loose, and she knew her decision was now made.
Picking up her phone, she dialled the number Chase had called her from. She waited a moment and the voice of a young boy answered.
"Igor's crematorium, you stab 'em, we slab 'em. How can I help you today?"
Julia hesitated, knowing this was probably a security protocol Carmen had set up in case the phone number was compromised.
"Can you arrange safe travel for me out of Poitiers without A.C.M.E finding out?"
There was a long pause. "Two hours at the Poitiers Biard Airport," the boy answered, disconnecting the call.
Julia let out a breath of relief. Knowing A.C.M.E wasn't going to react well to this betrayal, she began packing anything she valued. Carrying her suitcases to her car, she realized that Chase probably hadn't had the chance to do the same. Knowing that Chase kept his most treasured belongings in a storage locker, Julia got in her car, and started the engine. She knew exactly where Chase's storage locker was, and which locker was his from his frequent visits there.
Driving across the city, she entered the storage yard and drove straight up to Chase's storage locker. Getting out of the car, she approached the locker and saw the sturdy lock on the door. Reaching out, she stared down at the combination lock thoughtfully, and then entered Chase's wife Yu Yan's birthdate. The lock clicked open, and Julia pulled open the door, revealing four sealed boxes. Julia knew the contents of the boxes were none of her business, and so she carried them to her car without opening them. Once they were safely packed in the back of her car, she started the ignition and then headed for the bank to withdraw enough cash to survive on for a few weeks.
True to the mystery boy's word, there was a private jet waiting for her at the airport when she arrived there exactly on time. The pilot helped her carry the boxes and luggage aboard and as the plane door was shut and locked, Julia knew there was no turning back. She was now Team Red.
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Zack was beginning to suspect that Mime Bomb was delaying them on purpose. Everytime Zack pointed out that it was getting late and they should head to see Alys, Mime Bomb would point out something new for them to see in the village. The small village that Mime Bomb had grown up in was just outside Cardiff, and Zack loved it. The village was small with only a hundred homes or so and they walked along the cobblestone streets, everything looking like they'd stepped back in time.
Mime Bomb knew the smell of this village, and it caused a pain of homesickness that he hadn't felt in a very, very long time. The air smelled like wildflowers and damp wood, and Mime Bomb's gaze kept shifting over to the road that led to his old house. Everytime he looked at it, it sent a wave of nervousness through him, having no idea what he'd find at the end of that road. He had no idea if his old house was even still standing, and he had no idea if Alys still lived in the village.
Alys had mentioned working in a pub, and as he and Zack explored the small village, he found himself stopping at each pub to stare in through the front window. After doing this at three different pubs, Zack elbowed him in amusement.
"Craving a drink, are you?" he teased. "If you want one that bad, I won't tattle on you to Shadowsan."
Mime Bomb simply shook his head, turning away from the pub with a frown. It was now getting dark, and he knew they'd have to head back to the Bed and Breakfast they were staying at soon. Zack glanced at the setting sun, and knew they probably wouldn't be meeting Alys that night.
"We have plenty of time," Zack assured him. "We don't have to do everything today. If you want to wait to meet Alys tomorrow, that's fine. How about if we head back to get supper?"
Mime Bomb gave one more glance in the direction of his family home, and then gave him a nod. Zack could see the troubled look in his eyes and followed his gaze towards the dirt road at the end of the village.
"What's over there?" he asked.
Mime Bomb immediately turned and began walking in the opposite direction, heading for the Bed and Breakfast. Zack frowned at the reaction, but followed along behind the mime without a word, getting the feeling something important was down that dirt road. It frustrated Zack that his sign language wasn't good enough to have a full conversation yet, and vowed to himself to work even harder. Mime Bomb needed someone he could talk to, and Zack wanted him to be able to open up to him.
The moment they entered the Bed and Breakfast, they were greeted by the portly old woman who owned it, and she rushed to take their wet coats.
"I was starting to get worried that you two lambs got lost," she said with a warm smile. "How do you like our village so far?"
"It's fantastic!" Zack exclaimed enthusiastically. "It's like something out of a picture-book! I just wish it wasn't quite so wet out."
The woman laughed. "That's Wales for you, dear. It's either always raining or always foggy. We get just enough sun to keep our crops from dying and that's about it."
Mime Bomb couldn't help but agree with her description of Wales and nodded along with her.
"Now, I bet you two sweethearts are starving. I kept supper warm for you on the stove. Sit down at the table and I'll fetch it for you."
Zack's stomach gave a loud growl at the mention of food and he gave an eager nod, heading for the table without a word. Mime Bomb wasn't particularly hungry, but he followed Zack and took a seat across from him at the old wooden table. Moments later, two plates rounded with food were set down in front of them.
"Oh, wow!" Zack exclaimed with a grin.
"You're both far too thin," the woman chided, and then gave Mime Bomb a poke in the ribs. "Especially you, you're all skin and bones. I'll fatten you up, don't you worry!"
Zack picked up a piece of dark, speckled bread and took a bite. It was a little bit bitter, but had a very nice flavour to it. "What this?" he asked.
"That's called Bara Brith. It's a special bread made only here, and the recipe dates back hundreds of years,"
"Oh, nice!" Zack commented, taking another bite.
"I need to see to a few things, but just leave your dishes on the table when you're done, and I'll see to them when I get back."
The moment she was gone, Zack abandoned all manners, and began wolfing down everything in sight. Mime Bomb poked at his food a bit, but his stomach was in knots and he didn't feel like eating. He knew he was being a coward about meeting Alys, but he didn't feel like he was quite ready to handle the rejection if the meeting didn't go well. He needed to get himself prepared for the worst, and he was sure he'd be ready by the next day.
He glanced over at Zack just as the other boy was about to take a bite out of something and his eyes widened. Reacting on instinct, he slapped the food out of Zack's hand who simply stared at him in complete surprise.
"What did you do that for?" Zack demanded, his expression becoming enraged. "What'd I do?"
Mime Bomb took the same item off his own plate and then broke it open, showing Zack the inside. Zack stared at the white flaky center of the pastry, and then became horrified.
"Is that fish?!"
Mime Bomb nodded, dropping the fishcake back onto his plate.
"Er...thanks for saving me from that," Zack said sheepishly. "Sorry I yelled at you."
Mime Bomb gave him a nod, his gaze still looking thoughtful.
"You're going to hurt that old woman's feeling if you don't eat her food." Zack pointed out. "At least eat something."
Mime Bomb turned his gaze down at his food, and then picked up the piece of Bara Brith. Zack watched him barely nibble the bread and he rolled his eyes.
"If you don't like it, then you can share with me." he commented, reaching over and grabbing a few things off Mime Bomb's plate. "At least this way, you won't hurt anyone's feelings."
Mime Bomb didn't protest, and a few minutes later, they were making their way upstairs to their rooms. They were the only guests staying at the Bed and Breakfast and they had the whole second floor to themselves. As Zack headed into his own room, he pulled out his com with a resigned look.
"I promised Ivy I would call her back as soon as we were done for the day. This is probably going to be a long call… You can have the first shower if you want?"
Mime Bomb gave him a nod and Zack went into the room, closing the door after him. Mime Bomb stared at the closed door for a few moments and then turned and made his way back downstairs. Putting on his raincoat and boots, he left the Inn, just wanting to check one more pub before he went to bed. The walk to the village was only a kilometer away, and he soon found himself wandering the village for a sign of any pub he hadn't checked yet. He spotted one at the far end of the village, and he remembered this used to be a grocers when he was a kid.
Just as he was crossing the village square to approach the pub, he saw a car pulling up. Lingering back beside a large stone fountain, he watched as a young woman opened the driver's door and hefted a wheelchair out. He felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of the blond-hair and freckles, and just knew this was Alys. He couldn't see her very well from where he stood, and it was getting dark, but he was still certain.
Alys adjusted the wheelchair, and then pulled herself out of the car with an ease that showed she'd done this hundreds of times before. As she locked her car and wheeled towards the entrance of the bar, a bit of white out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Turning to look, she was met with the sight of a mime standing in the dark, simply staring at her. Furrowing her brow, she turned towards him, but the mime quickly disappeared into the darkness. She stared at the fountain for a long moment, gave a wary look around, and then wheeled into the pub.
Mime Bomb was pressed up against the back of the fountain, hoping she hadn't seen him. He waited a few minutes, and then cautiously peeked out, glad to see she was no longer there. Staring towards the pub, Mime Bomb slowly made his way over to the large front window and stared in.
Alys had a black apron on and was serving drinks to the busy pub with a smile on her face and Mime Bomb pressed his hands against the glass, just wanting a closer look. She looked like the Alys he remembered, but how reliable was the memory of a seven year old? He wanted to be absolutely certain, and so he pulled out his com and dialled her number.
He lifted the com to his ear and watched as Alys set down her tray of drinks so she could pull her cellphone out of her apron pocket.
"Bore da?" she answered, her voice sounding happy.
Mime Bomb watched as a look of mild confusion crossed her face.
"Bore da?" she repeated. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
He watched as Alys glanced down at her cellphone and instantly outrage crossed her face.
"You again!" she snarled in English. "I swear I'm going to track you down and-"
Mime Bomb hung up the phone, having his answer. As he turned away from the window, he didn't realize Alys had glanced up the same time he hung up the phone. She stared at the mime as he put the phone back in his pocket and her eyes widened, glancing down at her own phone. Wheeling to the door of the pub, she glanced out, but the mime was nowhere in sight.
When Mime Bomb got back to the Bed and Breakfast, Zack was waiting for him, not looking impressed.
"Where did you go this time?" he demanded. "Why do you keep sneaking off?"
Mime Bomb gave him a shrug and entered the building.
"Did you go to see Alys?" he demanded.
Mime Bomb shook his head, and removed his raincoat, hoping the other boy would just let it drop.
"If you're trying to go see Alys, I could help you with that," Zack told him with a frown. "You don't need to be all sneaky about it! If you want some time alone, just tell me so I don't worry!"
That was fair and so Mime Bomb gave him a nod, which seemed to appease Zack a bit.
"You can still have the first shower if you want. Your makeup isn't doing too well in this climate. You kinda look like a murder clown right now."
Mime Bomb glanced at his reflection in the nearby mirror, and saw his makeup was blending a bit together and headed upstairs to get cleaned up. Now that he knew what Alys looked like and where she worked, he just had to find the courage to approach her.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Crackle was not having a very good day. Even with the pills and gatorade, he had a headache bad enough to leave him completely miserable. He wouldn't allow anyone to turn on the lights, and he simply laid in bed for most of the morning with an icepack on his forehead.
"Why did I ever agree to drink with you guys?" he muttered to himself.
"Because you wanted to finally have some fun?" Neal suggested, not taking his eyes off the rugby match.
"...I have regrets," Crackle mumbled.
"Don't we all, Graham, don't we all."
Neal turned the game extremely low and kept as quiet as he could, and by early afternoon, the majority of the team were up and functioning. Dash however, remained curled up in bed for the entire day. By suppertime, Neal wondered if they should be concerned.
"You still alive over there, fancy?"
"Hrnnn," Dash replied, not moving in the slightest.
Neal approached the bed and glanced down at him, and then began pulling the blankets away from him. When he could finally see him, Neal saw Dash looked absolutely terrible, and frowned.
"I don't think this is a hangover…" he stated thoughtfully, reaching out to place a hand on Dash's forehead.
"Don't touch me with your greasy hands." Dash snapped out at him, not even opening his eyes.
Neal turned to Crackle. "He feels warm," he commented, "I think Dash is sick."
Crackle was almost immediately at Dash's bedside, pushing Neal aside. He laid his own hand on Dash's forehead, frowning at the heat he felt.
"Dash, can you open your eyes?" Crackle demanded.
Dash slowly looked up at him. "I'm just tired," he commented. "I probably caught something from that walking disease over there."
"Hey, don't talk about Roose like that!" Neal commented, smiling wide.
Roosevelt simply looked confused, not getting the joke.
"Are you sure you're just tired?" Crackle asked, looking Dash over with a frown. "Maybe we should take you to a doctor…"
"I'm fine." Dash snapped, pushing Crackle's hands away from him. "I just want to sleep without being poked at, alright?"
Crackle gave him a nod. "Alright, but take a couple Tylenol for the fever."
Not having the energy to fight, Dash accepted a couple Tylenol and washed them down with a mouthful of Gatorade.
"Ugh, who willingly buys orange Gatorade?" he complained, rolling away from Crackle. "It's vile."
"No, the V.I.L.E stuff is far worse," Neal teased.
"It would make me feel better if you kill Neal for me," Dash requested.
"Request denied," Crackle immediately responded. "No one is killing anyone."
"Just let me sleep," Dash groused.
Crackle stared down at him for a few minutes, and wasn't quite sure what to do. When Dash seemed to be asleep again, he turned to the others and looked them up and down, but they seemed fine. Whatever was affecting Dash was clearly not related to the drinking.
"I guess I owe him an apology for making fun of his four beer limit last night," Neal stated. "It looks like he might have the flu or something."
Crackle narrowed his eyes. "Did you get your flu shot like I ordered you to?"
"...uh."
Crackle let out a deep and irritated sigh. "He probably caught it from you, Neal."
"I'm not sick," Neal pointed out. "I feel fine!"
"You don't have to be sick in order to pass the virus on to someone else," Crackle responded. "Go get your flu shot this afternoon before you spread it to anyone else."
Neal looked down at Dash and wondered if he really was the cause of Dash's sickness. Realizing the other man was never going to let this go, Neal let out a deep sigh.
"Alright, I'll go now," he said. "Does anyone need anything brought back while I'm out?"
"More ginger ale," Theodore requested.
"Subway," Roosevelt added.
"I need tampons," Paper Star commented, her glare daring him to say anything.
Neal was wise enough not to make a joke about it and simply nodded. "Er...I don't know anything about brands, love, so text me a picture of the box or something... Crackle, you need anything?"
"Bring back a thermometer so I can keep an eye on Dash's fever."
"Oral or rectal?" Neal asked, grinning wide.
"Go to hell, greaseball," Dash mumbled, not even sounding like he was fully awake.
"I guess I'll just surprise you then," Neal answered, ignoring the eyeroll Crackle sent his way.
As Neal headed to the door, he gave one last glance back at Dash, hoping the other man was going to be alright.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Zack was starting to get impatient with Mime Bomb. It was now painfully obvious the other boy was doing everything he could to delay meeting with Alys and it was now early evening of their second day, and they still hadn't done anything of real importance. The day had been completely clear, and the sun had been a welcome change. It was now the end of the day, and the sun was starting to set, and Mime Bomb seemed to have no intention of approaching Alys.
They were sitting next to a duck pond, and Zack let out a sigh, knowing this wasn't something he could force Mime Bomb to do.
"We came all the way here, Mime Bomb, don't you at least want to see her?" he asked.
Mime Bomb tossed a rock into the water and he gave a slow nod.
"Are you worried about meeting her?"
Another nod.
"Do you want to go see her right now?"
Mime Bomb's shoulders stiffened, and Zack's expression softened, knowing how hard this was for him.
"You're still worried she's going to reject you, aren't you?" he asked.
Mime Bomb tossed another rock into the water, his gaze firmly on the water.
"We've been over this, bud, she wouldn't be looking for you this hard if she was just going to reject you as soon as she meets you."
Mime Bomb slowly waved a hand at himself and Zack frowned, not understanding. Mime Bomb then repeated the gesture, pointing at his shirt, his face and then his hat.
"Oh! You're worried she'll reject you because of your mime costume?"
Mime Bomb gave another slow nod.
"Who cares if you dress as a mime?" Zack responded, tossing a stone of his own into the water. "You're a living, breathing person, and if she can't see past a little face-paint, then that's her problem not yours. Maybe she'll take a little time to come around, or maybe she never will, but you'll never know unless we try."
Mime Bomb heaved a sigh.
"Let's go see her, alright?"
Mime Bomb gave him a nod and Zack clapped him on the back. "I'll be with you the whole time, I promise. If you get too uncomfortable, we'll leave, alright?"
Mime Bomb gave another nod.
As they stood to their feet, Zack threw an arm around Mime Bomb's shoulders. "So, where does your sister live?"
Mime Bomb began leading the way and Zack wasn't at all surprised when Mime Bomb led them to the dirt road. Mime Bomb had been staring at that road for two days and Zack had figured the road probably led to Alys. As they walked up the dirt road, Mime Bomb closed his eyes, simply taking in the scents of the wet fields around them. This was home, and every part of him recognized it.
The smell of late-blooming lilacs filled the air the farther they walked down the road, and Mime Bomb knew this was the scent of his mother. Lilacs had always been her favourite smell and she had planted dozens of lilac bushes all over their property, and there were always lilacs in bloom straight from spring until winter. Mime Bomb remembered burying his face in her long red hair, the scent of her lilac shampoo distinct and comforting. The smell now caused him discomfort, and he gazed around at everything as they walked along. The trees and bushes were all much bigger than he remembered, and everything was the same yet different at the same time.
"This is a pretty little road," Zack commented, looking at all the trees and flowers that bloomed all around them. "What a nice place to live."
The fields of wildflowers were in full bloom as they walked along, and Mime Bomb stared down at the tiny flowers, feeling a sense of melancholy the more he looked. He used to roll around in these fields every day, loving the smell of the flowers, and his clothes had always been covered in mud and grass stains. His grandmother frequently chided him because of this, but it never dissuaded him.
The walk was 2 kilometers from the village, and when a white house came into sight in the distance, Mime Bomb felt his chest tighten. He hadn't been sure it would even still be standing, but there it was the same as ever.
The house was white brick, and although old, it seemed like it was being well taken care of. Late-blooming tulips and daffodils lined the walkway leading to the front door, and Mime Bomb hung back, standing beside an old oak tree. Zack stared towards the house and then glanced at the other boy's nervous expression.
"All you gotta do is knock, bud," he encouraged. "One little knock and you'll finally meet Alys again."
Mime Bomb slowly took a step back until he was fully behind the tree. Zack cocked his head at him, and then leaned against the tree.
"Do you want me to knock?" he asked, taking a step towards the door.
Mime Bomb quickly caught him by the arm and pulled him back as he shook his head.
"You want to do it?"
Mime Bomb nodded.
"Do you just need a bit of time?" Zack asked him, glancing down at his watch. "It's starting to get late."
Mime Bomb gave him another nod, feeling certain he'd grow a backbone if he just waited long enough. Letting out a sigh, Zack nodded and took a seat, having a feeling they were going to be there for a while.
"You are perhaps the most indecisive mime I've ever met," Zack commented. "I'm only waiting until seven and then I'm going back to the Inn for supper, okay?"
Mime Bomb took a seat beside him and once again nodded. That was fair, considering Zack had been waiting all day for him to make a decision. They sat there in the bushes as the sun began going down, and Mime Bomb knew he was a coward. He was so worried of being rejected, that he couldn't even go through with it. Zack's watch finally beeped that it was seven, and Mime Bomb turned regretful eyes to the other boy.
"We can try again tomorrow," Zack told him. "I think it would be best if I knock for you though, otherwise we could be here for a month."
As Zack stood up to leave, Mime Bomb remained where he was, feeling stubborn. Zack gave him a questioning look, taking note of the expression.
"You want to stay?" he asked incredulously.
Mime Bomb nodded.
"In the dark?"
Another nod.
Zack wasn't sure how he felt about this. "I should stay with you."
Mime Bomb shook his head no and gave Zack a gentle push, not wanting him to miss supper because of him. Zack crossed his arms, trying to ignore how his stomach was growling.
"Okay, but if you're not back by nine, I'm coming back for you," Zack told him. "I doubt there's much here that could hurt you, and so you should be fine."
Mime Bomb turned his attention back to the house and Zack watched him for a few moments, having a feeling Mime Bomb wouldn't be knocking on that door.
"Don't stay too long," he advised, turning to head back towards the road.
Mime Bomb watched him go, and then took a deep breath, trying to make himself have the nerve to approach the house. He sat there for a long time, building up his nerve, and he knew it was probably close to nine now. There were lights on inside the house, and he knew Alys was home, and he slowly stood up, and began taking slow steps towards the door.
Just as he stepped away from the tree, he heard the sound of a door opening. Looking up in surprise, he saw Alys coming out dressed for work. She wheeled down the ramp, but then caught sight of Mime Bomb standing in her front yard. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, but then Alys was suddenly reaching down for a rock.
"What the hell is this Pennywise bullshit?" she demanded in English, flinging the rock as hard as she could at Mime Bomb.
The rock struck him hard in the leg, and he jumped back as she picked up another rock.
"Who are you?!" she demanded.
Mime Bomb stared at her for a moment and then took off running, disappearing into the darkness. Alys flung the rock after him, satisfied when she heard it make contact.
"Like I feel like dealing with bullshit like this," she muttered to herself, heading for her car. "Creepy clown jackass."
Mime Bomb rubbed at his sore legs where the rocks had struck him and watched from the shadows as Alys got in her car and drove off. Once she was gone, he stood up from where he was hiding, and knew he had to find a way to tell her who he was. Reaching down into his pocket, he pulled out his missing poster and glanced down at it, hoping that she would recognize him after so many years. Reaching a hand to his face-paint, he knew this probably wasn't going to be easy.
Shoving the poster back into his pocket, he began walking down the road, having no idea what he was going to do. He passed by the Bed and Breakfast and found himself heading to town instead, fueled by the need to finally see his sister. The day had been bright and sunny, but as it got darker and darker, the fog began rolling in off the water. It smelled like it was going to rain again, and Mime Bomb hoped it would hold off for a while considering he wasn't wearing a coat.
When he reached town, he headed for Alys' pub, having no idea what he was going to do. Her car was parked in the front of the building, like the night before, and he stood beside the fountain simply staring, wondering how he should approach her. He doubted she knew sign language, and wondered how good she was at charades. Biting his lower lip as he stared at the pub, he wondered if it would be best to approach her after her shift so they could speak in private.
Mime Bomb didn't have much time to consider this as it suddenly began to rain, and he instinctively ran for the pub to protect his makeup. Barely wet, he stood on the stoop, and glanced at the rain, having no wish to walk all the way back to the Inn while it was raining so hard. Deciding to just wait out the rain in the pub, he slowly pushed open the door and peered in.
The pub was old fashioned with wood panelling across every surface, and the tables were solid wood with long red tablecloths. The bell dinged as he entered and so Mime Bomb quickly dodged to one side out of view, just as Alys looked up.
"Bore d-" she cut off when she saw no one was there.
Alys frowned, and then wheeled over to make sure the door was fully closed. The door was latched correctly, and so she glanced outside, but saw no one there. Furrowing her brow, she glanced around her pub, but just saw her usual customers. Wheeling a bit to one side, she caught sight of Mime Bomb who instantly dove out of sight, realizing he'd been seen.
"Oh, hell no!" Alys snarled, wheeling over as fast as she could.
She couldn't see the mime anywhere, but she knew he had to be somewhere nearby and so she glanced around, her eyes narrowed to slits. Not wanting to give him the chance to slip by her, she suddenly had an idea. Pulling out her cellphone, she searched for the odd California number and then hit redial. There was a pause, and then ringing came from the table right beside her.
Reaching down with lightning fast reflexes, she seized Mime Bomb by the leg and yanked him out from under the table. Mime Bomb stared up at her with wide eyes, but didn't have time to react as she grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him up. With no hesitation, she began slapping at him hard, and he was caught off guard, and struggled to get his feet under him as she dragged him backwards to keep him off balance.
"I don't know what the hell you're playing at, you creepy son of a bitch, but I will not be used for whatever prank you have planned! You think just because I'm in a wheelchair that I'm an easy target? Think again, you little ffwrch! By the time I'm done with you, you're going to need a wheelchair too!"
Mime Bomb raised his arms to protect his face, and so Alys began driving her fist into his side and back, not once stopping her angry rant.
"You've been calling me, spying on me, showing up at my house! You're lucky I don't snap your skinny little neck, you little stalker! I warned you what I'd do if I ever got my hands on you, and I'm going to make you regret ever coming to Wales! I'm going to beat you into jelly, clown!"
She had half-pulled Mime Bomb onto her lap as she whaled on him mercilessly and Mime Bomb could do nothing but try his best to protect his face and hope for mercy.
"Creepy, creepy, little twerp," Alys snarled angrily. "What made you think it was okay scaring someone like this? I'm going to give you the arse-kicking of your life!"
[[You okay there, Alys?]] one of the customers called over, not looking overly concerned.
[[I'm fine,]] she answered, hitting Mime Bomb hard in the ribs. [[Just dealing with a stupid kid who needed a good kick in the arse.]]
Mime Bomb could feel a panic attack coming on as he curled in on himself in an attempt to escape the pain. As his whole body began to shake, Alys paused and looked down at him with a frown. She couldn't tell his age because of the makeup, but by the boy's gangly appearance, she assumed he was probably a teenager. He was practically all arms and legs without an ounce of body fat on him, and she scowled down at him.
"How old are you?" she demanded. "Are you even old enough to be in here?"
Alys grabbed a handful of his red hair and gave it a yank, forcing him to look up at her. He hadn't made a single sound during the entire beating, but when she looked him in the face, she could see tears beginning to well in his eyes.
Letting out an angry huff, she gave him a couple slaps across the ears, knowing from personal experience how much that stung, and then gave him a violent shake.
"You going to bother me again?" she demanded.
Mime Bomb looked up at her, having no way to communicate what he needed to say. He couldn't stop his body from shaking, every inch of him aching, and Alys gave him another impatient slap upside the head.
"Are you going to ever come near me again?" she demanded.
Mime Bomb tried to reach into his pocket to pull out his missing poster, but his hands were shaking and he dropped it to the floor. Alys didn't notice and gave him yet another slap, this time succeeding in making a few tears trickle their way down the mime's face. She couldn't understand how he managed to remain completely silent during all this, and scowled at him.
"You're really committed to this whole mime schtick," she commented, with a frown. "Just apologize and I'll let you go."
Mime Bomb stared up at her with wide blue eyes, and Alys felt like he was just further messing with her, and her fist hit him under the eye hard enough to bruise.
"That's it." Alys snarled. "I'm tossing you out of my pub, you little haliwr!"
Grabbing Mime Bomb with one powerful arm, she began wheeling and dragged him across the pub in the direction of the door. She opened the door and it was pouring rain out, the ground outside absolute muck. With a mighty toss, she threw Mime Bomb straight out the door, the boy landing with a splat in the mud. He sat there, looking somewhat stunned and Alys gave him a hard look, crossing her arms, observing how the boy's facepaint was quickly washing off. She caught sight of pale skin littered with freckles and bruises and she felt satisfied, knowing he was going to be feeling that beating for a few days.
"Call me again, or ever come to my pub again, and I'll break both your legs." she threatened. " Never come near me again or you will regret it."
Mime Bomb slowly got to his feet as she glared at him, and he stared at her with such misery that she frowned at him. Although it was raining hard and difficult to tell, she had a feeling he was crying.
"Don't be such a wimp." she scolded. "I went easy on you. I could have annihilated you, kid. Now go home to your mother, and stop causing trouble!"
Alys then went back inside the pub and Mime Bomb stared after her, knowing he had messed everything up. He had one chance to make a good impression on his sister and instead he came across as a creepy stalker. She would never let him get close enough to explain, and he had ruined everything.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mime Bomb turned and then began limping in the direction of the Bed and Breakfast. His sister certainly could hit hard, and he winced as he felt bruises on pretty much every part of his body. The rain was icy cold and it soaked into him almost instantly, chilling him to the bone despite it being July. He was aware his makeup was probably all washed off at this point, but he honestly couldn't find it in him to care. He had ruined his one chance to reconnect with his sister, and there would be no fixing this. She would always see him as a freak, and he only had himself to blame for it.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Alys watched out the window as Mime Bomb limped away, and she wondered if perhaps she'd been a bit hard on the boy. She didn't know his intentions after all, and maybe it was just supposed to be an innocent prank? She scowled, and then shook her head. No. It wasn't funny, and she refused to be made a spectacle of for anyone. If anything, she should have called the police and pressed charges on the little delinquent. He was lucky she decided to go easy on him, because if he had been a few years older, she would have seriously beat the daylights out of him.
Her customers were all laughing at the show she'd just put on, and she brushed her hair out of her face and shot them a wide smile.
[[There, now that the trash has been taken out, who needs a refill?]]
As Alys returned to work, she almost put the strange mime boy out of her mind, that is until she saw he had dropped his cellphone on the floor. Letting out an irritated sigh, she rolled over to it and picked it up, having every intention of keeping it until the boy either apologized or his parents came to collect it. Spotting a crumpled piece of paper laying on the floor, she reached down to pick it up, realizing the boy must have also dropped that.
Unfolding the paper, she stared at the very familiar poster of her missing little brother. Frowning in confusion, she glanced towards the door, wondering why he had a copy of the poster, and an English one at that. This wasn't something you'd just find laying around Wales.
Alys looked down at the poster and ran her fingers over the face of her baby brother, smiling at his red hair, freckles and wide blue eyes with affection. Suddenly the face of the mime came to her mind, his red hair soaked from the rain, his face that was covered in freckles and his wide blue eyes the same shade as her own. The poster fell to the ground. She stared at the door, suddenly knowing exactly who the mime was.
[[Wilem, watch the bar!]] she ordered, wheeling for the door as fast as she could.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Mime Bomb hugged his arms to his chest as he shivered from the cold, feeling worse about himself by the minute. He felt so stupid, and disappointed in himself. He should have let Zack handle things like the other boy had offered, but instead he'd screwed it all up. He'd just go back to San Diego and leave his sister to believe he was dead, it was easier and better for everyone that way.
Mime Bomb wiped the water out of his eyes, having no idea if it was rain or tears, and not caring either way.
"Mime Bomb?"
Mime Bomb looked up and saw Zack coming towards him wearing a raincoat and holding an umbrella.
"Where have you been?! I've been looking for you everywhere! Look at you, you're soaked and all your makeup washed off!"
Zack sounded angry with him, but Mime Bomb didn't care and the moment Zack was close, he threw his arms around him in a hug, sobbing into his chest. All anger instantly left Zack and he looked down at Mime Bomb in alarm.
"Mime Bomb?! What happened?"
Mime Bomb simply shook his head, and Zack caught sight of bruises that covered the other boy's face and became outraged.
"Someone hit you?! Who hit you? Tell me who did it and I'll pound them into the dirt! Tell me who!"
Once again Mime Bomb shook his head, and Zack had no idea what to do. Mime Bomb had a black eye and it angered Zack more than he realized, knowing someone had dared lay a hand on his adopted brother. Giving Mime Bomb a tight hug, he held the umbrella over them both, wishing he knew who had hurt him. Ushering Mime Bomb to the side of the road as a car approached, Zack didn't know what else he could do, and simply hugged him tightly.
The car stopped beside them, and when Zack looked up, he saw a pretty woman with blond hair staring at them with wide and frantic eyes.
"Yuri!" she called out desperately. "Yuri Volkov!"
Slowly Mime Bomb turned to face her.
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TBC