Chapter Three
Two-thirty, meet at café. Two thirty, meet at café…
Mathias had started off repeating this under his breath, until his lips became parched dry and uncomfortable, and he resolved to repeating it in his mind as he finished drying the dishes.
Two-thirty, meet at café. Two-forty, meet at café-
No.
Two-thirty, meet at café, he corrected himself, almost smashing the last plate out of frustration. He dried his hands and wandered out the tiny kitchen, beholding the empty, quiet apartment.
One door on the left, leading to an empty third-floor hallway with a rickety elevator and worn metal stairs; two plain doors on the right, small bedrooms hidden behind the layer of wood. The living room consisted of a thin brown rug over white tiles, a few pillows strewn on the ground, acting as chairs around the coffee/homework/dining table. There was a thin blanket crumpled on the small couch that was too short for Mathias to sleep in, although he should be used to it by now.
Two-thirty, meet at café. Two-thirty… do what?
What was he supposed to do at two-thirty exactly again?
It wasn't even noon yet, and he could barely remember. Teeth gritting and heart pumping, Mathias rushed to Lukas's room and grabbed a pen and a sticky note, scrawling down, 'Two-thirty, meet at café.' There was a blank between the time and the phrase, which Mathias filled in slowly and hesitantly after pondering for some time, 'Pick up Emil'. That should be right. It sounded right.
The sticky note went smack in the middle of the coffee table so he could glance at it every few minutes as he slumped down on the couch and wondered what to do for the rest of the day. The apartment had no television and, other than Lukas's strange books, essentially no other source of entertainment. He wasn't sure how he survived the past few months, but he was certain that he was probably going to die of boredom today.
He was also quite certain that he had been thinking the same thing every day for the past few months.
Mathias groaned, an arm thrown over his eyes as he sank further into the couch. There had to be something he could do before-
His eyes snapped open, and he found himself staring down at the sticky note. Two-thirty, pick up Emil, meet at café. That's right. He's still got something on his plate today.
Mathias relaxed, and he found himself staring at the clock, every second passing by too slowly for his liking. For a long stretch of silence, the world dissolved into nothing but him and the ticking clock.
One heartbeat: two seconds.
One breath: four seconds: two heartbeats.
It became a never ending pattern; the steady life of his body in sync with the fine machinery of a small clock.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick-
The sound was growing gradually louder, each click echoing beside his ears, like the blood roaring in his ears, like gunshots.
There was silence.
The air was quivering with tension, muscles stiff and entire body on an edge before the beginning of the slaughter.
The first sign came as a scream, a spray of crimson into the air.
And then everything was just a cacophony of roaring, of death, of relentless, desperate gunshots.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Like the steady, rhythmic hunt of a sniper.
Inhale – one shot, reload: one heartbeat; one death – exhale.
The never ending fire that fueled the war, even as they ran out of things to fight about.
Tick. Tock.
Silence. The same silence as before: tense, waiting, before exploding.
His ears popped, screams erupted anew. But one word reached him over the other pleading voices: "RUN!"
He was running, but they weren't running with him. Why weren't they coming? As long as they stayed together, they could do anything, couldn't they?
"One year, in the New World!" He was the one shouting the words, and a foreign voice that sounded so familiar spoke for two people that had meant his world before it crumbled. A broken smile, hopeless and forced, accompanied by a weak, waving hand clad in worn black gloves, the tip of the index finger worn from rubbing against the trigger of a rifle.
The answer came as tumbling letters down a black hole of ice and nothingness that was groped at by tendrils of fire. "Deal!"
Mathias's eyes snapped open, and he was alone with words clawing at his thoughts. No, not words, he realized when he recalled the vagueness and echoes that seemed too material. Memories.
He had made a deal with somebody. He had a meeting, in the New World. What was the New World?
Mathias blinked, mind churning as he subconsciously grabbed the sticky note and a pen and added, 'New-'
Maybe it wasn't the New World. He probably remembered something wrong: he always did, unless he forgot it completely.
New… What place starts with 'New'? The answer popped into his head immediately: New York.
Mouth splitting into a grin, he finished writing the name, reading over everything on his bucket list for the day. New York was an unexpected addition, but since Lukas seemed to be quite generous today, Mathias was sure that he'll let them go to the city after some arguing and bargaining.
At that moment, his stomach grumbled, and he realized with a jolt that it was an hour past noon. Upon opening the fridge, he realized just how pitiful their food stock was, so he decided to simply snack on some fruits hidden at the back, and began to review his list while munching on a sickening sweet piece of pineapple.
"Two-thirty, pick up Emil, meet at café. New York," he muttered. Then glancing at the clock: 1:26, he shrugged. "Screw it."
So he licked the syrup from his fingers, wiped his hand on his shirt, threw on his shoes, and went to find Emil's school.
Lukas probably showed him before, and Mathias had a vague idea of where it was, but he wasn't quite sure. He had time, so he simply decided to wander, glancing down every few moments at the note in his hand. When he looked up, the red-brown building struck a chord in his mind, but it took searching and reading a sign to realize that he had already, unconsciously, found Emil's school. The café turned out to be conveniently just around the corner, and that was where Mathias found himself waiting for the final hour to tick by. He nearly fell asleep, which was why Emil was the one waiting for him at the school gate, not the other way around, unimpressed and impatient at 2: 50.
"Lukas is going to cut out your tongue," said Emil by way of greeting.
"No, he won't!" replied Mathias cheerfully, brandishing his sticky note like the formidable weapon it was. "I won't let him! I've got plans!"
Emil, passive as ever, noticed the two words 'New York', and nodded in confirmation. This was a dead man standing before him.
"See, I've got to New York," Mathias began to explain when he noticed the younger boy staring at his note. "I've got a meeting with these people, and I just remembered."
"You. Remembered."
"Yes."
Emil was still not convinced, since he had known for a long time that there was something wrong with Mathias's head other than his memory problem. But all the same, he decided to play along, because it was a Thursday and he didn't understand why it wasn't Friday yet. "Fine. Who are you meeting up with?"
At this, Mathias frowned, his nose wrinkling as if he had smelt something awful but couldn't get it out from under his nose. "I… can't remember, but I'm sure I'll know when I get there." Then his grin broke out again, because, of course, the forgetful teen couldn't keep a worry in his head for more than five seconds.
The café must have been significantly more crowded than before, because Mathias couldn't find a seat immediately after entering, and it was louder. But that's okay! Because Emil led him to a circular table in a corner, and they sat, ordered, and waited.
Mathias wondered why Emil kept looking at him like he was crazy – more so than usual.
He also wondered why he constantly looked like he was about to laugh. Even when the younger boy got out a book to read, he'd steal occasional glances at the taller blonde and then smother a smirk.
Finally, after what felt like a bit more than just a few minutes, Mathias couldn't ignore it anymore and demanded, "What?"
But Emil just shook his head, and smiled. He flipped a page, eyes bearing into the words, slurped his milkshake, and basically announced the end of all conversations between them in the café.
Lukas entered the café at four ten sharp, ordered a coffee, and sat down one minute later with a groan. Emil closed his book with a snap and looked to his brother with a strange expression, although his question was relatively normal, if uncharacteristically concerned. "How was the study group?"
"Unfortunately helpful," was the grumpy reply, followed by a resigned sigh. Mathias was nearly bouncing in his seat while looking expectant but unsure, words on his lips but tongue still, and there was silence before Emil decided to drop the bomb.
"Mathias wants to go to New York."
Lukas remained silent, impassive, sipping his black coffee and staring straight ahead. The only sign that he heard was a curt nod of acknowledgement and understanding – not agreement. Finally, with both boys staring expectantly at him, Lukas spoke. "Tell me why."
Mathias took over immediately. "I made a deal with somebody to meet at New York City. I don't remember who, or where exactly, but I need to go."
Lukas idly spooned a bit of sugar into his drink and stirred. "When exactly did you make this agreement?"
Mathias withered. "I don't… remember. Just, well… before…"
"We're not going." It was expected. It was a Thursday, after all, and Lukas would never agree to-
"Going where?" A silky, feminine voice sliced into their conversation, and the three boys looked up to find a beautiful woman with brown curls spilling down her back and bright green eyes staring expectantly at them. Her painted-red lips were curved into a splendid smile, aimed especially towards Emil, who was suddenly flustered.
"Ms. Héderváry!"
Lukas made a small, unpleasant sound in the back of his throat that went mostly unnoticed.
"Hello, Emil." Mathias thought Ms. Héderváry really was quite charming, and could not understand Lukas's annoyance. "Lukas, and… who might you be?"
"This is Mathias," Lukas spoke before Mathias realized that she had been talking to him. "He's our cousin, and came over to visit recently."
"Nice to meet you, Mathias," Ms. Héderváry said. "My name is Elizabeta Héderváry; I'm Emil's homeroom teacher."
Mathias put on his best smile and shook the offered hand. "Nice to meet you too, ma'am."
"So, you boys planning a weekend trip of some sort?" The woman's green eyes were bright and expectant, and Lukas felt himself wither a bit inside when his brother opened that cheeky mouth of his and answered, "Yes. We were thinking of paying a visit to New York. Mathias hasn't been there yet."
"New York, huh?" The beautiful smile widened, a bit of white teeth flashing. But that smile slipped again when Ms. Héderváry checked her watch and then glanced out the café's glass doors. "It is quite a nice place. Where are you planning on going in New York City?"
"We're not sure yet," Lukas finally spoke. "That's what we're discussing right now. Do you have any suggestions before your meeting?" Then, facing Ms. Héderváry's surprise, he answered before she could voice it. "You kept checking the time and looking outside. Who are you waiting for?" It was a feeble and obvious attempt to change the subject, but it worked.
Ms. Héderváry gave a small, tinkling laugh, a blush rising suddenly on her smooth complexion. "I'm waiting for my fiancé." And Lukas felt his eyes widening in surprise even though it wasn't really: Ms. Héderváry was young and beautiful with a wonderful personality, but hearing a teacher confess something so personal was still somewhat shocking, not to mention awkward. "He told me to meet him here, so he should be here soon…"
There was a moment of silence before Mathias suddenly realized what 'fiancé' meant and exclaimed, "Congratulations!"
"Thank you." The happiness on Ms. Héderváry's face was quite evident and it made her seem much younger, more approachable than her status of a teacher. "Oh-!" She had caught a glimpse of something – someone – nearing the café. "He's here!"
"Bye, Ms. Héderváry," Emil waved, relieved but hiding it well.
"Goodbye, boys. Have fun in New York. Don't skip school again." The last sentence was firmly directly towards Lukas, who gave her a tight smile.
"Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am."
Then shaking Mathias's hand one more time and patting Emil's silvery-blonde hair, Ms. Héderváry was gone.
"I like your teacher," Mathias commented brightly when the woman, linking her arm with a dark-haired man, disappeared from sight. "I think she likes me too!"
But Emil was one step ahead, and Lukas didn't know if he was messing with him or if he actually wanted to go but, "Are we going to New York or not?"
"I'm pretty sure I already answered that question."
"Ms. Héderváry approves."
"Whether or not she approves makes no difference. We are not going."
"She thinks we're going. What would I tell her on Monday when she asks about the trip?"
"Do enough research and you'll be fine. Consider it homework over the weekend from me."
Emil scowled at his brother, who stared back impassively until Mathias cleared his throat and their attention shifted to him.
His voice was uncharacteristically soft. "Please, Lukas. Just this once. We can go, and we can look for whoever it is who I need to find, and if we don't get anything, we'll come straight back and I'll never mention it again."
"Besides," Emil added, "Now we know that the Underworld base isn't in New York City, which means that it's actually safer than Boston. It really wouldn't hurt to go. And you need a break."
Lukas had been almost convinced until Emil had said that last sentence, and he nearly scoffed. A break? He hadn't had a break since the day their parents died, and he was more than ready to tell them that he hadn't stopped working for ten years already, he didn't need to stop now…
But then… if he didn't take a break – even if it's a small one – now, when was he ever going to take one?
And Mathias had an expression of such hope that Lukas couldn't break – not again – and he felt himself sigh.
"Fine." He knew he was going to regret it later on today, at the latest Friday, but when had his regrets stopped the people around him from dragging him in the messiest situations? "Saturday, we're going to New York City."
And that radiant smile Mathias gave him almost made him believe that everything was going to be fine, even if he hated what was going to happen.
But then again, ever since that day ten years ago, nothing had ever been fine.
Wow, I kind of suck. And not only am I a piece of crap, this chapter is also a piece of crap. Editting it was torture.
Apologies for the late, sucky, and uneventful chapter. I've still not returned to the US which means I'm still typing from my iPad, which is harder than I thought it'd be.
However, despite the overall terribleness, PLEASE REVIEW, because next chapter is when things start to get a little bit more interesting...