Chapter 11 - Suspicions
It was 21:47:53. The crickets outside chirped with
utmost happiness as Craig slept at the edge of his king-size bed.
He groaned, then flopped over. With a loud bang, he smashed his forehead against the bedside table. He moaned in pain, his hand over where he hit.
With his other hand, he turned on the bedside lamp. "Ow..." he groaned, sitting up.
After rubbing his head a few times, he looked at the table. On top of it was a tattered, red leather book.
He looked at it oddly, slowly picked it up, and examined the cover.
"Hmm? What's this?" he asked himself, half-asleep. He opened it. The inside was littered with hard-to-read messy writing like maybe some eight year-old wrote it... or at least someone who couldn't use a pen. "A journal?" Craig whispered, flipping through the pages. He scratched his neck, and began to read.
"Day 3, Time - 7:58 pm
I still have no idea what to write in this journal or whatever it is. Haylen says she needs it to study me... but study what? My writing skills?
All I gotta say is that this place is a LOT better than that lab. I hope we can keep evading them like this..."
Craig snuffed his nostrils. "What?" he asked. He flipped to another page.
"Day 4, Time - 9:57 pm
Still no idea what to write. Some 'aid' in your studies, huh Haylen? Well... I do think about Claire a lot, but I can't let those thoughts get to me!
I just gotta say to myself, 'Steve, she's alright. She made it out, ok!?' She has a lot more will than I do! She's gotta survive!"
Craig cocked his head to one side. "What?" he repeated. "What the hell is this?" he looked closely at the ink. "Hmph. This wasn't written too long ago." he whispered to himself. "...Who's Steve?"
Suddenly, he heard footsteps upstairs in the attic. He hastily closed the journal and put it back on the table, then he turned off the lamp. He layed back onto his bed, put his blankets over him, and then remained completely silent.
The sound of footsteps continued, stopped, and a door opened. Craig knew it was the attic door, since that's all there was on the above floor. He began to breathe lightly, and listened in on the muffled talking he could just barely hear...
"Steve?" a voice said. -- He could tell right away that it was Aunt Sue. Craig couldn't believe his ears. So there WAS a Steve! But... why was he in the attic?
The voice that replied to Haylen, he could hardly make out. It was low and guttural... a lot like if you taught a frog to speak... or something. Craig tried very hard to listen now.
"Sorry the food came so late, but Marina was in the kitchen with some friends... so I had to wait until they went out." Said Haylen.
"It's.... okay." the frog-voice said.
"I'm so sorry though. I don't want you cooped up here forever. I...I...I... I just wanted..."
Craig could now hear faint crying.
"Aunt Sue..." he sighed.
"Doctorrrr Haylen." the voice growled.
"Oh... Oh, Steve..." She cried. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. You must really hate me... ohhh.... I'm always such a lameass."
"N-no you'rrrre not." the voice replied.
Haylen's crying then slowly became quieter, and now all Craig could hear was faint sniffling.
"Well, I better get back to bed. It's been a long night... goodnight Steve." Haylen said, amidst her sniffles.
There was a faint pause, then the frog-voice grumbled "G'night Haylen. Taaaaake it easy, ok?" A faint "Mm hmm."
came from Haylen, as now Craig heard footsteps again, the opening and closing of the door, then Haylen walking to her room, sniffling and sobbing all the way there.
A worried look loomed over Craig's face. Who was this 'Steve', and why did Haylen 'coop' him up there? And... what made her so upset? This was a little... freaky...
Craig rubbed his forehead, got comfortable in his bed, and tried to get back to sleep.
Haylen was in the kitchen aswell, leaning on the cupboards by the fridge eating a blueberry muffin. When Marina was finished eating her breakfast, she went and rinsed her bowl and spoon in the sink, gave Haylen a very vile look, then went upstairs to the bathroom.
Craig continued to eat his cereal. He swallowed it, then looked at Haylen. "Aunt Sue," he said. Haylen glanced back at him. "Yes?" she asked, swallowing her muffin. Craig shook off his nervousness, and cleared his throat.
"L-Last night... I heard weird noises in the attic. Is there... something, er- someone up there? Like, ...uh... a roomate or someone renting out that room?" he asked nervously. Haylen tried to keep her cool, but she knew deep down inside that Craig might find out sooner or later about Steve...
"Uh.." Haylen began; she really didn't know what to say. She had to think, fast! "N-No, no one lives up there. I just-- I store food up in the fridge for my work the next day." Haylen answered, somewhat calmly.
Craig looked at her suspiciously. "Then who's this 'Steve'?" he asked. Haylen froze up, did she really talk THAT loudly last night? "S-Steve?" she stammered. Craig nodded, eating another spoonful of cereal.
"I-I named my fridge Steve, y'know, cause I get so lonely. Sometimes I even talk to it!!" she said, laughing nervously. Boy, Craig sure knew a lot... she had to be careful now.
Craig sighed. He knew this was going to get nowhere. Haylen shook her head quickly, she had to pull out. "Um... where is that Marina?? I better go see what she's doing. She might miss her bus!" Haylen said, as she quickly left the kitchen and ran upstairs.
Craig shook his head, then glanced at a photo on the table. Eating another spoonful of cereal, he picked it up. On it was a photo of a red-haired, teenage boy, his somewhat balding father, and a blonde woman (his mother, duh). --(of course, this was a photo of Steve and his family, but he didn't know that!)
He looked at it oddly, then flipped it over to the back.
"Unknown Photo : Found 65 Ft. Away From T-008 Specimen"
He scratched his head. "Specimen...?" Suddenly, Haylen called from upstairs; "CRAIG!! Bus'll be here soon!" Craig jolted, looked at the photo one last time, then shoved it in his pocket. This whole Steve thing was really starting to make him think...
Wilson slammed his fist into the meeting room table. "WHAT!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WAS ERASED?!?" he screamed. Roberts shrugged innocently. "She must've erased it herself. So... we can't trace her... at all." he said.
Wilson sighed angrily, and shook his head, his eyes beginning to water. "Now we can't even find her fucking phone number...I was... so close..." he cried.
Roberts raised his eyebrows. "Well, let's just let T-008 go. We... still have the T-Veronica sample taken from him." he said. Wilson nodded, snuffed, then bit his lip hard. "Yes. The sample's good enough. But T-008 would be so much more. We could've tested the full capabilities of the virus on him..." Wilson sighed.
Roberts patted his back cautiously. All HE was worried about was Haylen being okay. He did all he could for her. ... He could only hope that her and Steve would be safe for now.
Wilson stood up straight again, and rubbed his eyes. "I'll find both of them, though. Haylen and that frog..." Wilson hissed. " and when I do, they'll regret it." Roberts looked at the floor, as Wilson turned to face him. His face in a crooked smirk. "I don't need them anyways, right?" he sneered. "All I need them for is..." his eyes tightened, as he gave off an evil, sinister gaze. "... Revenge..."