DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NOR CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE I AM NUMBER FOUR SERIES, THE LORIEN LEGACIES SERIES OR ANY WORKS MADE BY PITTACUS LORE ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PLEASE SUPPORT THIS RELEASE THIS IS FOR ALL WORKS AND POTENTIAL STORIES.
Chapter Eleven-
And then the weather warms. Brisk winds, bitter cold, and continuous snow showers are followed by blue skies and fifty-degree temperatures. The snow melts. At first, there are standing puddles in the driveway and the yard, the road wet with the sounds of splashing tires, but after a day all the water drains and evaporates and the cars pass as they do on any other day. A lull in the action, a brief reprieve before old man winter takes up the reins again. I sit on the porch waiting for Sarah, staring up at the night sky full of twinkling stars and a full moon. A thin, knifelike cloud cuts the moon in two and then quickly disappears. I hear the crunch of gravel under tires; then headlights come into view and the car pulls into the driveway. Sarah gets out of the driver's side. She's dressed in dark gray pants flared at the ankles, a navy blue cardigan sweater beneath a beige jacket. Her eyes are accentuated by the blue shirt peeking out where the jacket's zipper ends. Her blond hair falling past her shoulders. She smiles coyly and looks at me, fluttering her eyelashes as she approaches. There are butterflies in my stomach. Almost three months together and yet I still grow nervous when I see her. A nervousness that's hard to imagine time will ever assuage.
"You look gorgeous," I say.
"Well, thank you," she says and bobs a curtsy. "You don't look so bad yourself."
I kiss Sarah on the cheek. Then Henri walks out of the house and waves to Sarah's mom, who is sitting in the passenger seat of the car.
"So you'll call when you're ready to be picked up, right?" Henri asks me.
"Yes," I say.
We walk to the car and Sarah gets behind the wheel. I sit in the back. She's had her learner's permit for a few months now, which means she can drive so long as a licensed driver sits in the passenger seat beside her. Her actual driver's test is on Monday, two days away. She's been anxious about it ever since making the appointment over winter break. She backs out of the driveway and pulls away, eventually flipping the visor down and smiling at me through the mirror. I smile back.
"So how was your day, John?" her mother turns and asks me. We make small talk. She tells me of the trip to the mall that the two of them made earlier in the day, and how Sarah drove. I tell her about playing with Bernie Kosar in the yard, and about the run, we went on after. I don't tell her about the training session that lasted for three hours in the backyard after the run. I don't tell her how I pulled a tree right out of its roots and while still holding it in the air I split it into half, or how Henri threw knives at me that I grabbed out of the air and spinning them around me before throwing all of them into a sandbag fifty feet away. I don't tell her about being lit on fire or that I would slow down time as Henri threw knives at me as I tried to dodge. Another kept secret. Another half-truth that feels like a lie. I would like to tell Sarah. I somehow feel that I'm betraying her by keeping myself hidden, and over the last few weeks, the burden has really begun to weigh on me. But I also know I have no other choice. Not at this point, anyhow.
"So it's this one?" Sarah asks.
"Yes," I say.
She pulls into Sam's driveway. He paces at the end of it, dressed in jeans and a wool sweater. He looks up at us with a deer-caught-in-the-headlights blank stare. There is gel in his hair. I've never seen gel in his hair before. He walks to the side of the car, opens the door, and slides in beside me.
"Hi, Sam," Sarah says, then introduces him to her mom.
Sarah reverses the car out of the driveway and pulls onto the road. Both of Sam's hands are planted firmly on the seat in nervousness. Sarah turns down a road I've never seen before and makes a right turn into a winding driveway. Thirty or so cars are parked along the side of it. At the end of the driveway, surrounded by trees, is a large, two-story house. We can hear the music well before we reach the house.
"Jeez, nice house," Sam says.
"You guys be good in there," Sarah's mom says. "And be safe. Call if you need anything, or if you can't get ahold of your father," she says, looking at me.
"Will do, Mrs. Hart," I say.
We get out of the car and begin walking to the front door. Two dogs run up to us from the side of the house, a golden retriever and a bulldog. Their tails are wagging and they're sniffing spastically at my pants, smelling the scent of Bernie Kosar. The bulldog is carrying a stick in his mouth. I wrestle it away from him and throw it across the yard and both dogs sprint after it.
"Dozer and Abby," Sarah says.
"I take it Dozer is the bulldog?" I ask.
She nods and smiles at me as though in apology. I'm reminded how well she must know this house. I wonder if it's odd for her to be back now, with me.
"This is a horrible idea," Sam says. He looks at me. "I'm only now realizing that."
"Why do you think so?"
"Because only three months ago the guy who lives here filled both our lockers with cow manure and hit me in the back of the head with a meatball during lunch. And now we're here."
"I bet Emily is already here," I say, and nudge him with my elbow.
The door opens into the foyer. The dogs come rushing in past us and disappear into the kitchen, which lies straight ahead. I can see that Abby is now holding the stick. We're met with loud music that we have to yell over to be heard. People are dancing in the living room. There are cans of beer in most of their hands, a few people drinking bottled water or soda. Apparently, Mark's parents are out of town. The whole football team is in the kitchen, half of them wearing their letterman jackets. Mark comes up and hugs Sarah. Then he shakes my hand. He holds my gaze for a second then looks away. He doesn't shake Sam's hand. He doesn't even look his way, maybe Sam was right about this being a bad idea.
"Happy you guys could make it beer is in the kitchen."
Emily is in the corner talking to some other people. Sam looks over at her before turning to Mark and asks where the bathroom is. He points the way.
"I'll be right back," Sam says as he walks away.
Most of the guys are standing around the island in the middle of the kitchen me when Sarah and I enter I look at each of them in turn and then grab a bottle of water from the ice bucket Mark and Sarah beer and opened it for her the way he looks at her makes me realize yet again just how little I trust him but I realize now just how bizarre the whole situation is me being in the house now with Sara is ex-girlfriend I'm happy that Sam is with me.
I reach down and play with the dogs until Sam comes out of the bathroom by then Sara has made a way to the corner of the living room and is talking to Emily Sam tenses beside when he realizes that there is nothing else for us to do but walk up to them and say hello take a deep breath in the kitchen two of the guys have lit a corner of the newspaper on fire for no other reason than to watch it burn
"Make sure you compliment Emily," I say to Sam as we approach. He nods.
"There you guys are," Sarah says. "I thought you had left me all by my lonesome."
"Wouldn't dream of it," I say "Hi, Emily. How are you?
"I'm good," she says, then to Sam, "I like your hair."
Sam just looks at her. I nudge him. He smiles.
"Thank you", he says "You look very nice."
Sarah gives me a knowing look. I shrug and kiss her on the cheek. The music has grown even louder. Sam talks to Emily, somewhat nervously, but she laughs and after a while, he eases a little.
"So are you okay," Sarah asks me.
"Of course. I'm with the prettiest girl at the party. How could things be better?"
"Oh shush," she says and pokes me in the stomach.
XXXXXXXX
The four of us dance for an hour or so. The football players keep drinking. Somebody shows up with a bottle of vodka and not long after that one of them (I don't know which) throws up in the bathroom so that the smell of vomit wafts throughout the whole downstairs. Another one passes out on the living-room sofa and some of the others draw with a marker on his face. People keep filtering in and out of the doorway leading to the basement. I have no idea what is going on down there. I haven't seen Sarah for the past ten minutes. I leave Sam and walk through the living room and the kitchen, then walk up the stairs. White, thick carpet, walls lined with art and family portraits. Some of the bedroom doors are open. Some are closed. I don't see Sarah. I walked back downstairs. Sam is standing sullenly by himself in the corner. I walk over to him.
"Why the long face," I ask.
He shakes his head
"Don't make me wheedle it out of you," I smile Sam doesn't.
"I just got cornered by Alex Davis," He says.
Alex Davis is another of Mark James's brood, a wide receiver for the team. He's a junior, tall and thin. I've never talked to him before, and likewise know little else about him.
"What do you mean 'cornered'?"
"We just talked. He saw that I was talking with Emily. I guess they dated over the summer."
"So what. Why does that bother you?"
He shrugs. "It just sucks, and it bothers me okay?"
"Sam, do you know how long Sarah and Mark dated?"
"For a long time."
"Two years," I say.
"Does it bother you?" he asks.
"Not in the least. Who cares about her past? Besides, look at Alex," I say, and nod to him standing in the kitchen. He is slumped against the kitchen counter, his eyes aflutter, a thin layer of sweat glistening on his forehead. "Do you really think she misses being with that?"
Sam looks at him and shrugs.
"You're a good dude, Sam Goode. Don't get down on yourself."
"I'm not down on myself."
"Well then, don't worry about Emily's past. We don't have to be defined by the things we did or didn't do in our past. Some people allow themselves to be controlled by regret. Maybe it's a regret, maybe it's not. It's merely something that happened. Get over it."
Sam sighs. He's still wrestling with it.
"Go on. She likes you. There's nothing to be scared of," I say.
"I am, though."
"The best way to deal with fear is to confront it. Just walk up to her and kiss her. I bet you that she kisses you back."
Sam looks at me and nods, then goes to the basement, where Emily is hanging out. The two dogs come wrestling into the living room. Tongues dangling. Tails wagging. Dozer drops his chest to the ground and waits for Abby to come near enough and then he jumps at her and she jumps away. I watch them until they disappear up the stairs, playing tug-of-war with a rubber toy. It's a quarter till midnight. A couple is making out on the couch across the room. The football players are still drinking in the kitchen. I'm starting to get sleepy. I still can't find Sarah.
Just then one of the boys comes running up the stairs a wide frantic look in his eyes. He comes rushing into the kitchen and to the kitchen sink, he turns on the water as high as it can go and begins throwing open the cupboard doors.
"There's a fire downstairs!" he says to the other guys nearby at the island in the kitchen.
They begin filling pots and pans and anything that they can get their hands on and start rushing down the stairs to the basement.
Both Emily and Sam come running up the stairs just before I reach it. Sam looks shaken.
"What's happened?" I say.
The house is on fire and I think that we might have started it. We, uh may have a candle into a curtain."
Sam and Emily both look disheveled and have clearly been making out. I make a note to congratulate him later.
"Have you seen Sarah?" I ask Emily.
She shakes her head.
More guys come rushing up the stairs, Mark James with them. There is fear in his eyes. For the first time, I smell smoke. I look at Sam.
"Go outside," I say.
He nods and takes Emily's hand and they leave together. Some of the others follow, but some stay where they are, watching with drunken curiosity. A few people stand around stupidly patting football players on the back as they rush up and down the stairs, cheering them on as though it's all a joke.
I go downstairs to see how bad the flames are and if they need any help battling them. The flames are larger than I had imagined. Half the basement is consumed by the flames. The guys that are down here with their pots and pans filled with water are not even making a dent in the ever-growing flames. It is a futile effort. I dash back upstairs to find Mark coming my way to get downstairs. I stop him in his tracks as he reaches me. His eyes are swimming with booze but I can see the fear easily and that he is desperate to do something.
"Forget about it," I say. "It's too big. We have to get everyone out now while we still can."
He looks past me at the stairs that I am blocking him from reaching, He knows that what I have said is true. The tough-guy front is gone. There is no more pretending.
"Mark!" I yell
He nods and drops the pot and we go to the living room.
"Everybody out! Now!" I yell when we reach the center of the room.
Some of the drunker ones don't move. Some of them are even laughing. One person says, "Where's the marshmallows?" Mark slaps him across the face.
"Get out!" he screams.
I take the cordless phone from off the walls and hand it over to Mark.
"Dial 911," I yell over the loud voices and music that still blares. The floor is getting warm. Smoke begins to billow up from beneath us. Only then do people start to take us seriously. I start pushing and even carrying some of them out the door.
I rush back inside and bound up the stairs to the second floor taking four steps in a single leap, I come to the first door and I kick it off its hinges. One couple is making out on a bed. I yell at them both to get out. They are not paying attention to me at all, too engrossed in another, and obviously inebriated from all the alcohol. I run up to them pulling them apart before dragging them out of the room.
I sprint back down the stairs basically dragging them along, we get out into the dark, cold night. People are standing around staring back at the building. Some of them I can tell are excited to see the house burn, some of them are laughing. I can't see Sarah anywhere. I can see Sam though standing towards the back of the crowd which must number a hundred people. I run to him.
"Have you seen Sarah?" I ask.
"No," he says.
I look back at the house. People are running around the exterior of the building for none dare try and enter it as the flames continue to grow. The basement windows glow red, flames licking against the panes of glass. One of them is open. Black smoke pours out of it and floats high into the air. I weave through the crowd. Just then an explosion rattles the house and a couple of people in the crowd scream in surprise or shout in joy, acting as if this is all just a show. The flames have arrived on the first floor, and they are moving fast. Mark James stands at the front of the crowd, unable to divert his gaze away from it. His face is illuminated by the orange glow. There are tears in his eyes, a look of despair, the same look that I saw in the eyes of the Loric on the day of the invasion. What an odd thing it must be to watch everything that you've ever known be destroyed right in front of your eyes. The fire spreads with hostility, with disregard. All Mark can do is watch. Flames are beginning to rise up past the first-floor windows. We can feel the heat on our faces from where we stand about fifty feet away.
"Where's Sarah!?" I nearly shout in his ear.
He doesn't even register me next to him. I grab him by the shoulders and turn him to face me shaking him as I do so. He looks at me with a blankness in his eyes that suggests he still doesn't quite believe what is happening.
"Where is Sarah!?" I yell again.
"I don't know," he says.
I start to weave through the crowd looking for her, even with my height towering over most of the people present I can't see Sarah anywhere, I am getting more and more frantic as my search yields no results. Everyone is watching the blaze. The vinyl siding has begun to bubble and melt. The curtains in the window have all burned away. The front door stands open, smoke pouring out of the top of it like an upside-down waterfall. We can see all the way into the kitchen, which is an inferno. On the left side of the house, the fire has reached the second floor. And that's when we all hear it.
A long terrible scream. And dogs barking. My heart drops. Every person there strains to listen while hoping like hell we didn't hear what we all know we did. And then it comes again. Unmistakable. It comes in a torrent and this time it doesn't let up. Gasps filter throughout the crowd.
"Oh no," Emily says. "Oh God no, please no."
Nobody speaks. All eyes are wide-open, staring up in shock. Sarah and the dogs must be somewhere in the back. I close my eyes and lower my head thinking that if only I had spent just a minute longer looking or if only I didn't have to drag the couple out of the house, that I may have been able to find her and get her out in time. The smoke invades my lungs, it's the only thing I can smell right now and it fills me with rage. "Just remember what is at stake," Henri had warned me. I know damn well what's at stake, but still his voice echoes. My life, and now Sarah's life. There is another scream. Terrified. Severe.
"Sam," I say so that only he can hear me, "I am going in." He looks at me with shock in his eyes.
"John it would be suicide for you to go in there."
"If I don't go in there and save her then she will die Sam," I say to him, with new resolve.
I begin moving through the crowd trying to make my way around the back of the building I can hear Sam calling my name but I just ignore it, I don't have the time to explain to him that I actually am an alien and that I lied to him and kept this form him. That I have superpowers that make me immune to fire and that I am the only chance of her survival.
When I finally reach the back of the house I make a mad dash and then sprint inside the kitchen. It is completely submerged in the fire. I can hear Sarah and the dogs. They are closer now. Anger. Determination. Hope and fear.
I let them in, I feel them all as the crackle and hum of the flames vibrate with sound like a melody. The fire catches my clothes on fire. There is no end to the blaze. I move through the house going towards the stairs that are in the living room, half of the staircase has burned away. With no time to waste, I take a running start and leap up the stairs clearing the stairway in one go. The fire has finally spread to the other side of the house, nearly everything is on fire. I can hear Sarah screaming and crying in fear, she's scared and she is going to die if I don't hurry to her. Time is short.
She and the dogs are to my right further down the hallway. I can hear them in the last room at the end of the hallway. Sarah is screaming, "HELP!" The dogs are whining and crying. I smash my way through the door with my shoulder, not wanting to test the door and waste any more time. The door goes flying off of its hinges into the room. All three of them are huddled together as tightly as they can in the far corner of the room. Sarah sees me and yells my name and starts to stand. I finally release the breath that I have been holding both because of the smoke not yet clogging the room but also because of the relief of seeing her still alive and well. I motion for her stay where she is as I take another deep breath in, as I start to make my way towards her a huge flaming support beam falls between us. I raise my hand and send the beam upwards, crashing through what remains of the roof. Sarah seems confused by what she has just seen. I leap towards her, covering twenty feet in a single bound, moving straight through the flames without them affecting me at all. The dogs are at her feet. I push the bulldog into Sarah's arms and pick up the retriever. With my other arm, I help her stand.
"You came," she says.
"No one, and nothing, will ever hurt you as long as I am alive," I say back to her.
Another huge beam falls and takes out part of the floor, landing in the kitchen below us. We need to get out of the back of the house so no one sees me or sees what I think I'm going to need to do. I hold Sarah tight against my side and the dog against my chest. We take two steps, then leap over the flaming chasm created by the falling debris. As we start to move down the hall, a huge explosion below takes out most of the hallway, where it was is now just a wall and a window, and are quickly being consumed by the flames. Our only chance is through the window. Sarah is screaming again clutching my arm, and I can feel the dog's claws digging into my chest. I focus on the window and with my TK I blow it open leaving a large hole in its place. I look at Sarah, pulling her securely against my side.
"Hold on tight," I say.
I take three steps and dive forward. The flames swallow us whole but we fly through the air like a bullet, heading straight towards the opening. I'm worried we're not going to fit through it. We barely clear it, and I feel the edge of the hole in the wall scrape my arms and legs as we pass through. I hold Sarah and the dog as best as I can, and twist my body in the air so that I'll land on my back and everyone else will land on top of me. We hit the ground with a thud. Dozer goes rolling. Abby yelps. I hear the breath go out of Sarah. We're about thirty feet behind the house. I feel a cut on the top of my head from the broken pieces of wood from the broken window frame. Dozer is the first one up. He seems fine. Abby is a little slower. She limps on her front paw, but I don't think it is anything serious. I lie on my back and hold Sarah. She is starting to cry. I can smell her singed hair. Blood drips down the side of my face and gathers in my ear.
I sit in the grass trying to catch my breath. Sarah is in my arms. The bottom of my shoes have melted. My shirt has completely burned away, and so have most of my jeans. Small cuts traverse the length of both my arms. But I am not burned at all, our training with my Lumen showing results. Dozer walks over and licks my hand. I pet him as I hear him say thank you in my mind.
"You're a good boy," I say between Sarah's sobs. "Go on. Get your sister and go back up front."
There are sirens in the distance that should be here within the next minute or two. The woods are about a hundred yards from the back of the house. Both dogs sit watching me. I nod to the front of the house and send a telekinetic message to them telling them to go on. They walk away as I pick Sarah up in my arms and begin walking into the woods, she cries into my shoulder as we move inside. Just as we enter them I hear the whole crowd erupt in cheers. Dozer and Abby must have been seen.
The woods are dense. The full moon still shines but there is little light coming from it. I turn my hands on so we can see. I start to shiver. Panic sweeps through me. How will I explain this to Henri? I'm wearing what now looks like singed cutoffs. My head is bleeding. So is my back, along with various cuts on my arms and legs. With Sarah in my arms, I know that she must know what I can do and what I am capable of, or at least some of it. I'm going to have to explain everything to her. I'll have to tell Henri that she knows. We have already had too many close calls with the Mogs and with my identity being revealed as is. He'll say that someone will slip up and say something. He will insist that we leave immediately.
I set Sarah down. She's stopped crying. She looks at me, confused, scared, bewildered. I know I need to get some clothes and get back to the party so that people aren't suspicious. I need to get Sarah back so that people don't think she's dead.
"You're okay to walk?" I say.
"I think so."
"Follow me."
"Where are we going?"
"I need to get some clothes. Hopefully, one of the football players has a change of clothes for after practice I can take."
We start walking through the woods. We start looking into the cars lining the block to see if I can spot a gym bag or something.
"What just happened, John? What is happening?"
"You were in a fire, and I got you out of it."
"What you did isn't possible."
"It is for me."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I look at her. I had hoped to never tell her what I am about to. Even though I knew it probably wasn't realistic, I had hoped to stay hidden in Paradise. Henri has always said never to get too close to anyone. Because if you do, at some point they're going to notice that you're different, and that will require an explanation. And that means we have to leave. My heart is pounding, my hands are shaking, but not because I'm cold. If I have any hope of staying, or of getting away with what I did tonight, I have to tell her.
"I am not who you think I am," I say.
"Who are you?"
"I am Number Four."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Sarah, it's going to sound stupid and crazy, but what I'm about to say is the truth. You have to believe me."
She places her hand on the side of my face. "If you say it's the truth, then I'll believe you."
"It is."
"Then tell me."
"I'm an alien. I am the fourth of nine kids that were sent to Earth after our planet was destroyed. I have powers, powers unlike any human, powers that allow me to do things like what I did in the house. And there are other aliens here on Earth who are hunting me, the ones who attacked my planet, and if they find me they will kill me."
I expect her to slap me, or laugh at me, or scream, or turn and run away from me. She stops and looks at me. Looks right into my eyes.
"You're telling me the truth," she says.
"Yes, I am." I look into her eyes, willing her to believe me. She stares searchingly at me for a long moment, and then nods.
"Thank you for saving my life. I don't care what you are or where you are from. To me you're John, the boy I love."
"What?"
"I love you, John and you saved my life, and that's all that is important."
"I love you too. And I always will."
I wrap my arms around her and kiss her. After a minute or so, she pulls away.
"Let's go find you some clothes and get back so people know that we're okay."
Sarah finds a change of clothes in the fourth car we check. They are close enough to what I was wearing (jeans and a button-down shirt) that no one will notice the difference.
XXXXXXXX
When we reach the house we stand as far away as possible while still being able to see. The house has collapsed in on itself and is now nothing more than a twisted heap of blackened coals soggy with water. Wisps of smoke sporadically rise, looking ghastly in the night sky. There are three fire trucks. I count six cop cars. Nine sets of flashing lights but no sound to go with them. Few people, if any, have left. They've been pushed back, the house cordoned off with yellow tape. The police officers are questioning some of them. Five firemen stand in the middle of it all, sifting through the rubble.
Then I hear "There they are!" yelled from behind me. Every set of eyes in the crowd turns my way. It takes me a full five seconds to realize that it is me the person is referring to.
Four police officers walk towards us. Behind them is a man holding a notepad and tape recorder. While we were looking for clothes, Sarah and I agreed on a story. I came around the back of the house where she was watching the fire. She had jumped out of the second-floor window with the dogs, who had run away. We had watched away from the crowd, but eventually drifted over and joined in. I explained to her that we couldn't tell anyone about what happened. For if anyone found out unnecessarily, I would have to leave immediately. As it stands now it will be difficult to convince Henri to let us continue to stay. We agreed that I would answer the questions and she would agree with whatever I said.
"Are you John Smith?" one of the cops asks me. The officer is of a medium height, and stands with his shoulders hunched. He isn't overweight but is far from being in shape, with a slight paunch and an overall look of softness.
"Yes, why?"
"Two people said they saw you run into that house and then come flying out the back of it like Superman, with the dogs and girl in your arms."
"Seriously?" I ask in disbelief. Sarah stays beside me.
"That's what they said."
I fake a laugh. "The house was on fire. Do I look like I was inside a burning house?"
He scrunched his eyebrows together and rests his hands on his hips. "So you're telling me you didn't go in there?"
"I came around the back of the house to try and find Sarah," I say. "She had gotten out with the dogs. We stayed back there and watched the fire and then came over here."
The officer looks at Sarah. "Is that true?"
"Yes."
"Well, who ran into that house, then?" the reporter beside him chimes in. It's his first time speaking. He watches me with shrewd, judging eyes. I can already tell that he doesn't believe my story.
"How would I know?" I say.
He nods his head and writes something in his notebook. I can't read what it says.
"So you're telling me these two witnesses are liars?" the reporter asks.
"Bains," the officer says, shaking his head at him.
"It's possible that they were just mistaken, it's been a long night and I am sure that they may have had a couple of drinks."
"Hmm... Interesting," he scribbles on his notepad some more.
I don't like this line of questioning or the look that this guy Baines is giving me.
"All right, Baines, that is enough questioning for now," the officer says.
"Can I leave?" I ask him. He nods his head. I walk away and pull out my phone to call Henri with Sarah still at my side.
"Hello," answers Henri.
"I'm ready to be picked up," I say. "There's been a terrible fire here."
"What?"
"Can you please just pick us up?"
"Yes. I will be right there."
"So how do you explain that cut on the top of your head?" Baines asks from behind me. He had been following me, listening to my call with Henri.
"You know it's really creepy to follow a teenage boy after being told to leave him alone by the police, and then proceed to listen in on his phone call right?"
"You didn't answer my question," He says with a sharp look in his eye. I can tell that he thinks he found out something I said was a lie and he is now prying to find out whatever he can.
"Nor did you respond to me calling you a creep, I don't want to talk with you any longer so please just leave us alone," I put my arms over Sarah's shoulder and pull her along walking away from Baines.
"I'll find the truth, Mr. Smith. I always do," Baines yells behind me.
I can see Sam just a little ways away and walk right up to him, I can tell that he is about to start asking a bunch of questions so I cut him off before he gets started.
"Henri is on the way."
"What the hell was that all about? And what happened in the house? Where was Sarah? Wh..."
"Look Sam I know you have a lot of questions, and I will answer all of them just please wait until tomorrow, I just want to get home. Sarah and I are safe and that is all that matters right now," I cut Sam off before he just explodes with all the questions he has, knowing that it will just attract that reporter back over with more questions again. Sam nods not exactly happy with my response but his questions have been quelled for later.
XXXXXXXX
We stand at the end of the driveway until Henri arrives. When he pulls up he steps out of the truck and looks at the smoldering house far off in the distance.
"Ah, hell. Promise me you weren't a part of this," he says.
"Nah," I say
We get into the truck. He pulls away while looking at the smoking rubble.
"You guys smell like smoke," Henri says.
"Sarah was caught upstairs by the fire so she was in the smoke for a while before getting out, and I was trying to fight the fire with the football players before trying to get people out of the house."
"At least you are all safe then," Henri says though I can tell from his tone that he expects a more detailed report of events when we get home.
The rest of the drive is in silence. Sarah sits in my lap our hands are entwined in her lap, she grips my hands so tight that even with my super strength it feels like she might crush them. We drop Sam off first, then Henri pulls out of the driveway and then makes his way towards Sarah's house.
"I don't want to leave you tonight," Sarah says to me.
"I don't want to either but your mom would be worried if you didn't show up after what happened tonight."
When we get to her house I get out with her and walk her to the door. She won't let go of me when I hug her good night.
"Will you call me when you get home?"
"Of course."
"I love you."
I smile. "I love you too."
She goes inside. I walk back to the truck, where Henri is waiting. I have to figure out a way to convince him to allow us to stay even despite what has happened here today. I don't want to lie to him, Henri should be the last person that I should do that too. He sacrificed everything to be here with me today and has helped me grow in ways that I know I wouldn't have been able to do by myself. Henri pulls out and drives home.
"So what happened? From the beginning John," Henri says as we get back on the road.
"We got there and it was a little weird at first with the interaction with Mark but we just brushed it off and tried to just have some fun. It was like an hour later that I had managed to convince Sam to go talk to Emily, a girl that he liked. They disappeared and I went around seeing if I could find Sarah as she had disappeared a while ago by this point." I could tell that he was getting bored of this and wanted to get to the point of how the fire happened and what all I did. "It wasn't much longer that Sam and Emily came running up the stairs and people were talking about a fire, I told Sam to get out and to take Emily with him. I went downstairs only to see the flames already beyond control, I started to get the people out of the house only to find out that Sarah was trapped inside with the dogs. I saw no other way to save her life so I ran inside around back where no-one could see me go in. I managed to make my way up to where Sarah and the dogs were but no way safely back down so I had to pick them all up and jump out a window. Getting back to the crowd of people out front of the house, unfortunately, led to a reporter and a police officer finding us and grilling us about a couple of people seeing me run in. I did my best to dissuade them of that but I think the reporter was suspicious and may start looking into what really happened," I say with a sigh at the end knowing that the reporter alone may just be enough to make us have to move.
I managed to get through the majority of what happened while giving as much detail as I could without taking half an hour to go over every small detail. But going off of Henri's expression I can tell that he isn't happy and that I doubt I'll get my wish of staying in Paradise much longer.
"John I'm sorry that you had to go through an experience like that. I know how much she means to you and I don't want you to think in any way that I am not proud of what you accomplished tonight, but I think for our safety along with Sarah's continued safety that we should leave as soon as possible. If any of what happened gets leaked and the Mogs find out, it won't be long before they send an army after us."
I can tell that he is being sincere and that he is only looking out for me, I know that he would lay down his life in order to protect me. And as much as I wanted to stay here, I know that it is for the best that we leave.
"Can I at least say goodbye to them tomorrow?" I plead to him.
"It's already been a long day for you and I don't think we have anything to worry about what happened getting out until Monday at the latest, so I think we are safe to stay the night and pack in the morning. You can say your goodbyes afterward but then we really must get going."
"Thank you, Henri!" I was surprised that he was giving me almost a full day to pack and prepare to leave.