I. Hate. This. Chapter. More than any other bad chapter, this is the worst by far. I'm kinda in something of a writers block right now, so practically over half of the fic was forced out bit by bit in between school work and stuff, which is why I took so long in updating. See, in this magical chapter, if you can count how many times I contradict myself from earlier chapters. Barg. The purpose of this chapter was an inserted attempt to get to know a few of the other characters better, but I failed that, and also some more explanations of previously mentioned things that weren't explained. Such as the little incident Cameron is arguing with Rheas about in chapter 3, I go into a little more detail. Thanks to "Mrs. Biggerstaff-Black-McGregor" (you know who you are) for helping me with ideas for Thom's dad! Um, sorry, more notes at bottom, I'll let you read the story now. Thank you all for your patience!!
The chipping green rail was cold under her hands as she leaned into the wind. The smell of the salty sea and the rhythmic song of the waves crashing against the front of the ferry was refreshing and swept away her recent fatigue. Goldie Moore loved the sea very dearly, as it had been almost a fantasy in her early youth, yet could still not compare with the open seas of golden grass she had grown up with back over the mountains.
She had moved west, into the constant wet and grey, with her father from Yakima many years ago, starting a new life and school. She had felt awkward in her new fourth-grade class, the age when children were beginning the early stages of their cliques. Most of the girls had been friendly enough, but only one of the boys actually offered to show her around the school. Sam had yet to become a friend, but he was a friendly acquaintance who eventually introduced her to his best friend Cameron, a fifth-grader.
She began to spend her recesses and lunch with the boys, finding Sam very polite and mature for his age. It was through them that she met Thomas, another fifth-grader, who in turn introduced her to Frank, a fear-inspiring sixth-grader. It hadn't been until the next year that she had met River.
She gazed up at him. He too was staring ahead, the wind whipping through his long hair. Dark, like his handsome eyes, gifts from his Makah mother. He had an interest in his heritage, but only so much that books or his mother's words could give him. Born south of the Olympic Mountains on the peninsula, River had been home schooled with his elder brother until his mother found work in the city across the Puget Sound. His father was a professional photographer and was hardly ever home. It was a joke in his household that they had moved and his father had yet to know about it, despite the letters they received weekly.
"The clouds are dark," commented River suddenly, breaking Goldie's concentration of the waves' songs, "it's gonna rain."
"Surprise surprise," she smiled, leaning into his strong arms.
"Hey, Windmere," Thomas called stepping out into the wind. He paused when he saw them, River's arms around Goldie protectively. "Oh, pardon me."
"What is it?" River sighed, leaning against the cold rail.
"'Bum a cigarette off you? Left in a hurry this morning."
"I quit, remember?"
"No, I don't recall you telling me that."
"Well, I have no cigarettes to give. Go pester Cameron for some."
"Right. Kay," he smiled, backing up towards the doors, "go about your business then." He turned and pushed through the heavy doors, also painted a dark evergreen. The air stilled as the doors shut behind him and he walked briskly in the direction of the snack bar. He assumed Cameron would be there. Well, there was Toby, currently yelling at the arcade game he was playing and making a small scene, but at least he was busy. Sam was sitting with Gary and Laura at one of the tables, discussing who-knew-what over foam cups of coffee. Rheas sat by himself, slumped against the window on a bench, asleep. Though Thomas was sure he saw the golden slits of his eyes looking out over the grey waters to the snow-capped mountains beyond.
He swung around a small pillar into the ferry "dining area", as Toby was known to call it. His prediction was right on today, Cameron was sitting with Tina, each eating their own over-priced hotdog.
"Hey Thom," Tina smiled up at him, a small bit of mustard under her lip.
"Hey," he slid in beside Cameron, who nodded, then swallowed.
"You seen Rheas?" he asked before taking another bite.
"He's up front. Got any cigarettes? I'm going to hurt something if I don't get a smoke soon."
Cameron handed him a pack. "We've got to quit these things," he sighed.
"I did, last month. This'll be my last one this trip, I'm not gonna go smoke in the woods."
"Uh huh. Now get out of here."
"Thanks man."
"Mmph."
"Yeah," Thomas nearly shouted into his cell phone over the engines of the ferry, "thanks. Sorry about dropping in on short notice and--what? Oh, yeah. Right, see you later then." Letting out an audible sigh of relief, Thomas flipped off the cell and tucked it away in his jacket.
"What was that about?" Frank, sitting on the steps up to the sun deck, inquired lazily.
"Setting up a place to stay tonight. If we went straight to the woods at this point it would be dark by the time we get there. I assume we can stop by Hood Canal for tonight and get a boat across tomorrow morning."
Frank took a long drag on his cigarette, a twinkle of understanding in his dark eyes. Thomas pulled his jacket collar up around his ears. Though the back deck of the ferry was far less windy than the front, it was still cold and a light rain began to patter down.
"And then?" the older man asked simply, looking out to the shore moving farther away. Frank disliked boats to an almost phobic extent; anything smaller than a ferryboat and you could forget it. That would become a problem later, Thomas realized, as far as he knew, there were no ferries across Hood Canal where they were staying. Apparently Frank was saving that problem until later. Cross that bridge when they reach it.
"Then we get into the forest. We'll go by trail and camp carefully, else you want to have a bunch of rangers on our asses."
"And?"
"And what? We camp."
"I mean," Frank sighed, "what if this really is all true? You're worried about that, I can read it off you like a giant billboard. What if those two idiots are right and we end up wallowing in some corny fantasy movie rip-off?"
Thomas paused, his tongue rolling the cigarette in small circles. "If we get sucked up into one of Rheas' fantasy acid trips," he smirked, "I'm going back to Vancouver."
"Sick of us Americans, eh?" Frank sniggered, flicking the remains of his cigarette over the rail.
"Say that again and I'm tossing you in the water, and you know how cold it is." Thomas snapped. Frank began grumbling to himself, remembering that dreaded fishing trip six years ago.
"Fool Cameron thought he could grab the jellyfish with his hands…" he muttered. Thomas chuckled. Poor Frank had nearly caught hypothermia. Looking back into his early teen years, it was rather amusing.
Rather amusing indeed.
He had heard about these things, seen them on the news and in movies. He thought he was prepared enough, because it wouldn't happen. If it did, he was prepared.
You're never prepared until it happens.
The thirteen-year-old had gone very far in those long hours, considering, and hadn't spent a dime. Hitchhiking had proved useful, provided someone -preferably sane- picked him up. They did, and here he was. Portland, downtown, apparently, cold and wet. He shook his head, his ear-length hair sending droplets in all directions, and pulled up his hood. Portland, far away from home. He'd never see it again. For a moment, there was an empty pit in his stomach and he hesitated. He'd never see the trees outside his window again, the familiar smell of pancakes on Sunday mornings, his family…He pushed it away. It was better this way, he'd send them a postcard explaining he was all right sometime. Really, was there a reason, a truly good reason, to go back?
None at all.
Well now, where to?
He decided to head to the grand bookstore farther into the city, and began to look for a bus stop that would take him closer to the river. He found one, empty and quiet, not too far from where he had been dropped off. He fingered the switchblade in his pocket; he didn't like this area.
Questioning a rare passerby, he learned that the bus usually would pass by in the later afternoon, a forty-five minute wait. How inconvenient.
He paced around the plain old sign that simply read "bus" in boredom. There was nowhere to sit and nothing to do except kick around a crushed soda can. He wasn't paying much attention, just sticking his shoe in and out of a puddle on the curb, watching the ripples fan out and collide with the smaller rings created by the occasional rain drop. Through the high drone of rain, his hood, and his own quiet humming, he didn't notice the figure approaching him until he was roughly grabbed and practically thrown into the brick wall behind him.
"What the fu--?!" A large fist collided with his head, sending him sprawling on the wet asphalt. Dazed, he tasted blood and heard the heavy footsteps coming closer. He scrambled to his hands and knees, trying to get up and run, away from his mad attacker, when a heavy boot met his stomach. He cried out and instinctively curled up, trying not to vomit. Pain flared through him again, and he was no longer by the bus sign, but thrown back into an alley. He rolled, and then his attacker was on him. A pockmarked face with a scar over his nose and one insane, lust-filled eye. His backpack was torn off and chucked aside. What the hell was happening? Why was he tossing the bag aside as though it didn't matter? Isn't that what he wanted?! Isn't that… The large man had his arms pinned down, practically kneeling on his elbows until they stung and his fingers tingled. Those fat ham hands were frantically tearing at the sweatshirt, tearing it away and yanking at the belt. Oh.
Oh………shit!
"Get the fuck off me! Stop it!" he screamed as loud as he could, thrashing and kicking and clawing when one arm was freed. He kept screaming, praying someone would hear him, someone would come…!
"Shut up!" a fat hand thrust his head back into the cement and a surge of red filled his vision, pain following soon after. A great weight was on him, pushing, crushing him into the wet ground that soaked through his cotton clothing and right to his skin. Something pressing on his chest, holding him down. "Shut up you little fuck," the husky voice repeated, sounding far away. "You're going to like this!"
He screamed and thrashed as a sudden foreign pain ripped through him, striking right to his brain. He would have kept screaming had not those fat hands closed about his throat, cutting off his air, and then strike him again repeatedly until he was unsure what pain was coming from where.
No one was coming. He was alone.
It hurts…it hurts…it hurts! He didn't know where he was, and he couldn't move. He was helpless. Hurts…
"Cameron!"
"Oh shit!" Rheas jumped at the touch on his shoulder and practically fell off the bench.
"Whoa, high-strung today?" Cameron pondered nervously as Rheas looked about, a wild look in his eyes.
"Gods, don't do that!" he snapped, rising to his feet and dusting himself off casually.
"You must have been really dozing, you didn't hear me calling you? You're normally a light sleeper…"
"Shut up. Are we there yet?"
"Yeah, pulling up to the dock now. I got you a hotdog, do you want it?"
Rheas looked at his brother disgustedly and walked away, shaking his head. Cameron shrugged and shoved the hotdog into his mouth before following him down the two flights of stairs and across the lower level to the large red van, parked in the middle lane. Thomas was already there, along with Frank and Tina.
"Where're the others?" Thomas inquired as Cameron climbed into the driver's seat. Rheas vanished in the back.
"I dunno," Cameron shrugged, "it's a giant red 1985 Ford. How hard can it be to find?" Cameron paused as Rheas pointed out a window to another big red van not too far away.
"Oh."
"Here we are!" Toby called out as he, Sam, Laura, and Gary emerged from behind a trailer, Goldie and River following soon after. The eleven teens pushed and shoved themselves into the van until they all fit well enough, finally shutting the doors as the ramp was dropped and cars began to filter off the ferry. Cameron driving, Thomas riding shotgun, the remaining seniors, juniors and sophomores crowded behind the seats on the floor, and the two freshmen squished against the back doors, bouncing nearly a foot in the air as the van dropped off the ramp. Frank, wedged between River and Gary uncomfortably, grumbled to himself in irritation. This was going to be a long trip.
They weren't five minutes down the highway when the whining started up again.
"I'm hungry."
"I need to go to the bathroom."
"There's something alive back here!"
"I can't breathe."
"It just squirmed over my hand!"
"I'm bored."
The whole party whirled to face the glum looking Toby with fear in their eyes. There was nothing more terrifying than a bored Toby Bender. Rheas tried to scoot away.
Thomas wished there were a wall of some sort separating them for when the bloodshed he knew would occur began. He sighed and slumped back, his eyes focussed on the road as Cameron turned off onto the freeway. Suddenly the senior heard the familiar sound of a chord being struck, albeit awkwardly. Shifting in his seat, Thomas rolled and looked over to find his beloved guitar, unburied from the luggage and free of its case, in the hands of the most sinister being alive.
"Oh, I'm sorry Thomas," Rheas almost seemed to purr mockingly, "but may I just strike a few notes? It's either that or the kender kills us all."
The thought made Thomas shudder. He nodded weakly and then paused, asking, "What's a kender?"
"A what?" Rheas inquired irritably, confused.
"A kender, you just said that…" Thomas sighed as Rheas eyebrow lifted as though he were insane. The freshman continued testing the strings, ignoring Thomas completely.
"Have you ever played before?"
"No." Rheas replied casually, not looking up. Toby peered over his shoulder in fascination. Thomas groaned and slid down in his seat. Oh well, better Rheas than Toby, afterall.
Rheas continued plunkering around on the guitar, fitting the sound and feel of each chord to the various music he had stored away in his memory. Within minutes he seemed to have figured out a tune of some sort that Thomas was sure he had heard somewhere, but couldn't place. Toby had, apparently, as he immediately began to hum with the tune, lapsing into soft words. Thomas and the others ignored them.
"Exit here," he instructed Cameron in monotone.
"Exit, why?" Cameron inquired, pulling off the freeway.
"We're not gonna head straight out. Yes, stay on this road for a while, the canal will be visible in about half-hour."
"Where're we staying?" Gary appeared, leaning over Thomas and reaching for a folded map in the door. Tearing it open, his hazel eyes scanned the wrinkled parchment and then he nodded in understanding. "Ah, paying your father a courtesy call." he smiled.
"I thought your father still lived in Chemainus…?" Frank began, scratching his beard.
"He did, after he divorced Mom. But he remarried a while back, had some kids, and moved down here. I don't see him very often so…"
"So you figured we all just drop in to say hello?" Gary smirked before Thomas pushed him back with the others.
"I called in advance. Besides, it's a free place for the night, and he does have a boat. He'll take us across the canal tomorrow morning and watch the van while we're gone."
"Boat…" grumbled Frank to himself, sinking back into the muddle of teens.
"It won't be that bad Frank," Thomas assured his long-time friend, "it shouldn't be rough and the trip will only be--"
"I left my throne a million miles away
I drink from your tit
I sing the blues ev'ryday…"
The senior turned and glared at Toby and Rheas, then continued. "It will only take a few minutes. Please don't get all riled up about it."
"I'm not riled up!" the older man huffed.
"I didn't say you are now, but I mean--"
"Now give me the strength to split the world in two, yeah
I ate all the rest, and now I've gotta eat you!"
"Forget it," Thomas sighed, facing forward again. Well, now he recognized the song, anyway.
"Monster Magnet, in acoustic?" Cameron pondered aloud.
"Yeah. 'Wonder how he figured it out…"
"He's a scary little boy, Thom."
"I guess--"
"Well I say
Hey! Space lord mothermother…!"
"Will you two shut up!" Laura snapped angrily, clamping her thin hand over the strings and silencing the guitar, "Neither of you have voices meant to be singing!"
"That's harsh Laura." Toby whimpered in mock hurt, sticking out his lower lip.
Sighing, Rheas removed Laura's hand and hissed bitterly, "Perhaps if one of you would be kind enough to demonstrate another medium, I would. But I will not be the one to fixed damaged property when the midget runs out of entertainment."
"I'm not a midget!"
"I brought some cd's," Laura said heavily, "will that do?"
"Yes. Just remember, Elfman, the majority of this crew is male. Choose wisely."
She glared at the freshman, considering slapping the melodrama right out of him.
After a long and gruesome battle in the back over music tastes and whether members of the party had it or not, Toby finally announced that the van didn't even have a cd player. Thus, he and Rheas won the music battle by default when Toby pulled out a box of tapes from under the front seat, on condition they pick something agreeable to everyone. This, of course, limited the selection.
"Goldie doesn't want depressing, Gary doesn't want loud…" Rheas counted on his fingers as Toby went through his box, kissing various tapes 'goodbye' and packing them away again. "Tina doesn't want something too slow, and……why the hell do you have a Pocahontas soundtrack in here?"
"Mel Gibson sings. What?! It's funny! Besides, it's all that's left."
Thomas was surprised to find a Disney soundtrack chucked at him.
Teenagers are intelligent, but inexperienced. Despite this fact, they have often viewed themselves as potential geniuses ready to make the world their oyster, their responsibilities placed upon them as they grew. Benjamin Halcord had been like that, until the day his long-time girlfriend informed him that she was pregnant.
His world came crashing down then. Getting rid of the baby was out of the question, and he wouldn't leave the poor girl to care for it on her own. Always believing himself to be a responsible type, he quickly married her and began re-adjusting all his life plans for the baby.
But, despite the pride he felt when he held his small son, and the voice in his mind that constantly reminded him that it was his own irresponsibility that had led him to this life, he couldn't help feel resentment for the life he lost. His relationship with his new wife had seen its fair share of ups and downs, and bound in wedlock and childcare, their love went straight down the drain. Many nights they would spend arguing until they shouted so loud their voices echoed through the small house and little Thomas ran off crying.
Finally, one day, it all just stopped when his wife fell silent in one of their arguments over something that neither could remember. Looking exhausted, she had walked over, scooped up Thomas from his small plastic trucks, and walked out of the house. Benjamin was slightly baffled by this. She would often leave for a while after their fights, but why take Thom?
He got his answer when she returned a few days later, handing him divorce papers and announcing she had come for her things. He agreed all too willingly. Soon after, she left Vancouver and moved south to the United States. He saw Thomas very rarely then, and that was his only regret.
But even that faded with time. He moved to Chemainus for a while, until he fell in love again and remarried, this time successfully. After the birth of his two new children, work moved him out of Canada and into the States, his first son no more than a couple hours drive away. Yet he still hardly ever saw the boy.
It just so happened that he had been pondering his nearly non-existent relationship with his eldest son when Thomas suddenly called, asking if he and a few of his friends could stay for a night, as they were passing through to wherever. Though not a superstitious man at all, he took this as a sign. Thomas was a young man and he would soon be off to make his own place in the world, and that would be that.
A big neon sign, 'This could be your last chance, Ben'.
He readily agreed. Almost giddy with excitement of seeing the son that he had not seen in nearly four years, Benjamin quickly informed his wife and prepared the guestrooms. However, it wasn't until the large red van had pulled up that he realized what an awkward situation he had just waltzed right into.
The companions nearly popped right out of the van, stretching and inhaling deep breaths of fresh air. Thomas slid out of the front seat and stretched, trying to ignore his sore rear. He bent and spat out the bad taste of some gum Toby had passed around.
"Thom," said an almost familiar voice near him.
"Dad," he responded, standing up straight. He looked his father up and down, comparing when he saw him last. He could've sworn he had been the shorter of the two earlier…
So father and son stood quietly in awkward silence, apparently having run out of things to say, unsure what to do. Thom suddenly extended his hand with a bland "Hi."
His father hesitated, then shook his son's hand firmly. "Hi…" More awkward silence. His silence was saved when he looked up to notice Thomas' ten companions standing behind him. "I thought you said a 'few friends?'" Benjamin inquired, raising an eyebrow towards the teens and quite thankful for a subject change.
"Well, we dropped by the cove and drowned most of the others, you should have seen the party before then." Thomas replied wryly, crossing his arms. Turning slightly, he gestured to his friends individually. "Dad, this is Sam, Gary, his sister Laura, Goldie, River, Tina, Cameron, his brother Rheas, Toby, and of course you remember Frank." His father was about to speak when the front door flew open and a young girl of about seven dashed out across the lawn, shouting.
"Thom, Thom Thom Thommy!" the small girl cried in delight. Thomas let out a cry of mock terror and fled, the small child, making monster faces, in hot pursuit.
"Then you just shift here, spin, step to your left, clap, and you're done!" Toby finished proudly. He had been teaching the Halcord's eldest daughter his latest dance moves.
"That's pretty good," the thirteen-year-old praised him, "keep this up kid, and you could probably do professional work someday.
"Thanks!" Toby beamed. He blinked and though a second, "Kid? I'm fifteen."
"Oh! You are? I thought you were nine," she smiled apologetically, patting the shorter boy on the head, "Sorry."
Toby sighed.
Thomas sat with his father apart from the others, the older man desperately trying to make conversation or another aspect of 'father-son togetherness'.
"So…your step-dad, does he treat you well?"
Thomas was only partially listening to his half sister explain to him why Barbie had left blond Ken for brunette Ken. (Really, it was the same doll, but if you put warm water on his head, his hair changed blond. Apparently, Barbie had grown tired of blond Ken always disappearing on her.)
"Yes Dad, you ask me that every time, and the answer is always yes."
"Do you like him?"
"To tell you the truth, he's working often, so I don't see him much anymore."
"Ah…" his father replied absently. He sat silently a minute, finger drumming the table in thought. "So…you wanna go play catch?"
Regarding his father a minute, Thomas replied flatly, "Dad, I'm eighteen…"
"One's never too old for a good came of catch and…oh nevermind."
Thomas smirked; this was certainly an interesting day.
The others sat around on the couch and various easy chairs chatting with Mrs. Halcord about trifle things and ideas. Toby, bored out of his mind, lay on the floor picking at the stones that made up the fireplace. His eyes traveled over his friends, hoping for a means of entertainment. But everyone was too involved in the conversation, well, almost everyone. Cameron had dozed off long ago, and it looked as though Gary was about to join him. Rheas sat at the far end of the room on a wood chest, his head between his knees and looking positively nauseous. No help there.
His feet itched; he wanted to explore! However, politeness kept him rooted to the floor. It wouldn't do for him to just get up and walk out on a conversation…
Though he was on the verge of saying "screw it!" and hurrying off. He sat up and stretched, letting his eyes roam about the room in hopes of spotting something of interest. The enormous windows behind him gave a wonderful view of the canal in the darkening evening, casting a blue glow on Rheas, turning his hair silver. The wooden floors were shiny and slick in places, but showed the obvious wear that children were bound to give. Toby imagined himself sliding across the floor in his socks and giggled to himself quietly. He'd have to try that tonight. The stone fireplace beside him reached up to the ceiling, rising high enough to allow standing room in the loft far above. Yawning, the young boy fell forward again, trying to act interested in the current topic of potpourri. How could the others stand it?
It was late at night by the time the Mrs. Halcord retired to her room, leaving the teens to adjust themselves. Toby too had dozed off by then, as well as Gary and even River and Tina. Cameron, his head slumped forward and snoring softly, stuttered awake when a thin hand rapped on his head.
"Huh…What?!" he started, looking about wildly. He tilted his head back to find his brother standing behind him. "What'ya want?" he inquired sleepily, stretching.
"I feel a little…I don't know. I'm going outside for some air…"
"Are you all right? You look a little pale…"
"I'm fine, I just need a salty-sea-air remedy."
Cameron turned and looked out the darkened windows. "It's rather late."
"Keen observation, dick. I'll be down on the beach. Leave me alone." Rheas hissed, pulling his hood up and trudging towards the door.
"Hey, wait!" Cameron jumped to his feet. "I should probably go with you, just in case…" he began, and gently placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. Rheas whipped around to swat Cameron's arm away with surprising strength. His eyes smoldered.
"Don't you fucking touch me! Got it!? Don't ever touch me!" Rheas shouted. Backing out the door, the frail teen turned and ran into the darkness.
Reaching out as though to pursue, Cameron sighed and shut the door. A light chuckle echoed through the room eerily. Its source was Gary, awakened by the shouts. The attractive blond boy stood and stretched lazily, an odd grin on his face.
"Jeez Cam, I've seen sibling rivalry before, but I think your brother friggin' hates you." he smirked.
The big man sighed and flopped back down on the couch, instantly regretting it as it creaked loudly under his weight. "He does, literally."
"No he doesn't Cam," Tina said, glaring at Gary, who shrugged, "you don't get along because your views are too different and…"
"I don't need comfort," Cameron told her, grinning as though she had told a joke, "it doesn't bother me. He's hated me since he was twelve."
"Why's that?"
Suddenly downhearted, Cameron sank into the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "Thom knows this story, Sam too. And undoubtedly Toby's heard one version of it or another. Right kid?"
Toby yawned and rubbed his eyes, just awakening. "Huh? Which one? The cucumber?"
"No…" Cameron said slowly, looking at Toby with troubled eyes. A cucumber…? Shaking his head as though to fling away odd thoughts, the senior continued.
"I had just turned sixteen and got my drivers' license. Rheas was in the seventh grade then, I believe……yeah, I'm right. So, anyway, Rheas has to go to the doctors' office for his usual checkups that day, so Mom asks me that morning if after school I would go pick him up at the junior high and drop him off there real quick. I said sure. Well, you see, this girl at school that I had been trying to get to notice me had asked me to join her to go to the movies…right after school…"
"You didn't…" Goldie began, though she seemed to be half-smiling at the so-far light tale, "you picked the girl over your brother!"
"Duh," River murmured to Frank.
Cameron stared at his hands sheepishly, cracking his knuckles, "No…I would have told her no, or to meet me there…had I remembered that I had to go pick him up."
"So you forgot him. Big deal, it could have been worse." Laura suggested from her seat in a leather easy chair.
"It was worse. Sure, had that been it, he would have gotten home on his own. He'd have been pissed but who cares, he's always pissed." His normally kind face sudden darkened slightly in anguish, "I should have been there. I'm his big brother, I'm supposed to take care of him." Pausing, Cameron bit his lower lip, and then shrugged, continuing casually again. "I don't know the details, but apparently it was getting late and he was still there. Buses were gone and apparently most of the teachers too. A few elder boys were passing by and decided to have some fun with him. They pretty much beat the shit out of him, bound and gagged him and left him in the showers with the cold water running, half drowning 'im. A custodian heard the water running and went to check it out and found him there, 'course he had been there for a few hours by then, amazingly enough. You wouldn't believe the pneumonia he had after that.
"He didn't tell anybody anything, said he didn't get a good look at his attackers. He was lying of course, Rheas never tells anything. But I'm pretty sure that they're the same fuckers that still mess around with him now. I don't know…I blame a lot of things on that one day, which was my fault. He tries to kill himself; my fault, he's gone crazy; my fault, he runs away for a few days……You all knew that, right? Yeah, well, it was a year later, but he still runs off. Comes home a few days later, roughed up and shit, but just climbs in the back window and starts making himself a TV dinner as though nothing happened. So I went over and……punched him right in the face."
"Why the hell did you do that!?" Tina demanding, shoving him in a rough meaningless gesture.
"Our mother was fucking crying all weekend because she thought he had run out on us, like Kate had! I know he hasn't had the easiest time, but I wish he could just pay attention to everybody else's feeling too. It wouldn't hurt him. Besides, I-- Hey!" Cameron roared as Toby kicked him again in the shin.
"No wonder he's such a pisser! When you treat him like that! Maybe he'd start caring if you people would too…!" Toby shouted randomly, trying to hit Cameron again, though the elder boy was now simply holding him off with his foot, out of reach.
"This from the boy who used to get dressed up by his sisters." Cameron smirked, leaning back.
"Fight like a man!" the shrill voice echoed until the younger daughter suddenly appeared in her nightdress to "shush!" them all.
The cold sea wind coursed through his short curly hair as he stepped out onto the lawn. The grass was wet and squished under his heavy feet as he walked. Soon his socks were wet. Rheas had been too long, it had been over an hour since he left, and it was too cold to be out here anyway.
Cameron strode over to the small cliff edge overlooking the canal. He stopped, a burst of hot air caught in his throat. It was beautiful.
The skies were clear and crisp, the stars standing out against the dark blue velvet of sky. Yet they were dwarfed by the moon, glowing in cold radiance that turned the grand mountain majesties beyond the water into new lapis lazuli. He let his breath out slowly and turned his eyes to the rocky beach below, searching for his brother.
He did not see him at first, the moonlight distorting shadows into various beasts, leering over him. He growled at them and flexed his enormous arms, laughing to himself when they ran away. Looking again, he saw Rheas, silhouetted by the moon's breaking reflection on the water, turned to black glass by the ethereal night's touch. The thin boy was sitting cross-legged on a large cement slab that thrust out into the black water, too high to be buried within the glass just yet, gazing out at the water, the mountains, and the near full moon. He sat perfectly still, hands folded in his lap, the only movement being the slight opening and closing of his eyes, the gentle rise of his shoulders, and the wind stirring his hair about his neck, turned silver in the moon's light.
Opening his mouth to call out to him, Cameron suddenly halted in mid-breath. Something inside told him to be still, if he were to bellow out now, the whole beautiful world, so quiet and fragile, would crack and shatter around it. Rheas shattering with it. He shut his mouth and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He'd give him a few more minutes.
Rheas lay awake on the couch underneath a heavy blanket. The only light was the starlight than fell in through the large windows. He listened as the others slept, his brother's snoring, Toby, sprawled out over his mat perfectly still (Toby rarely ever dreamed, and if he did, he couldn't remember it). Frank, even in his sleep, muttered incoherently every now and again. And some aggravating whistle of air moving through someone's teeth, someone who would die if they didn't shut their mouth!
Squirming a bit, trying desperately to get comfortable and sleep, Rheas stared out across the water to the dark shapes looming against the stars. The Olympic Mountains seemed to be beckoning him, and he was growing as impatient as they. Sighing, he rose and padded softly, as to not wake the others, to the kitchen.
At around midnight, he and the others had poured over a large map of the peninsula, attempting to pinpoint where to go and the path they needed to take. Toby, having pointed out where he had found the wood, had closed the option of boating across the canal. The Hoh Rainforest was on the other side of the mountains, and would be easier to access if they simply drove straight there. This put them back a few hours, but for a simple camping expedition, that wouldn't matter. Not to them.
"But we're running out of time…" Rheas whispered to himself as he sipped a glass of cold grape juice.
"Couldn't sleep either, huh kid?"
Rheas whirled to find Thomas, in mid-yawn, stroll into the kitchen.
"No…I guess my mind is occupied with other things."
"Like what, if you don't mind my asking."
"Like tomorrow."
Thomas nodded in agreement. Silent for a moment, he watched Rheas' golden eyes stare out the window at the mountainous silhouettes. "Do you think we'll find anything?"
"Yes, I am sure of it. Too much has happened up until this point to have it simply blow by now."
"Like what? You know something, don't you?"
"I know a great deal of things Thom, what's your point?"
"Then tell me what this is all about!" Thom hissed, "What's going on?"
Only then did Rheas turn his head and gaze up at Thomas steadily. Then his eyes suddenly fell, their penetrating stare grazing the floor. "Do not ask me any more. Not now."
"Rheas!"
"I cannot, not until I know that I am correct. This may have nothing to do with our current mission, and then again, it may. It doesn't really matter. We're here." The thin boy set his glass into the sink and walked away, becoming engulfed within the darkness as he returned to his bed on the couch. Thomas stood there a little longer, his own gaze on the mountains beyond.
"Why us? Out of all the people in this fucked-up world, why us?"
Well, wasn't that…(shakes head) nevermind. Um, that "Portland Event" actually leads up to something, it's not just more pointless angst (well, that too, but it goes somewhere!). Also gives a nice example of why Rheas dun like being touched. Well, he's never like being touched but…hell, you know what I mean. Rheas' nausea is because he's in a small bit of withdrawal right now, also why he's so irritable. Onto Notes!
WhiteIckyThing: YAY! Thank you! (huggles kitty-muse-thing) I think I'll name it Dobo. Actually, this chapter and a whole bunch of new ideas popped out after I got Dobo (and a whole new trilogy, another reason I was slowed down. Then of course Chibi Raist made a run for it and took Dobo with him. Damn chibi, I found them in the laundry room a week later.) Thankyou thankyou!
Shade of Entropy: Thanks! I tried to get the other characters to come out in this chapter, but it's hard. I don't know anything about a character until they tell me themselves, and a lot of them aren't doing that. As for switching sexes, well, unless it has significance to the story, I don't think I'll do that, specifically for Dalamar. If I did that, I think he and Raist definitely would hook up, and that would ruin the Crysania/Raistlin crap I've got going. Maybe someone else…(evil laughter)
RaistlinofMetallica: You got it!
Dark Phoenix: Don't skip any more dinners. Stay healthy, eat lots, live long life ^-^!
DeDreamer: Yes, Imare's here to drive you mad. But seriously, sorry for the confusion, there is a lot of things I hint to that I won't cover until later chapters. The whole Portland thing was briefly hinted to at the end of chapter 10 (I hate things just popping out of nowhere), and the rest will be explained later.
To everyone else who reviewed or even just bothered to read it, thankyou! I will not give up! (strikes dramatic pose) Next chapter will not take to long and will be a whole lot more exciting. I have been WAITING to do the next chapter for so long! Yaaay! Wow, this was a long note…
Next chapter: The Demon of Kantan!