A/N: There probably won't be another new chapter before Monday (5/16/2011) as my work week revolves around weekends, and I also write a food blog which is fairly time consuming. But I hope you enjoyed these 3 new chapters. Have a great weekend ;]
Chapter XXVII: Simple Explanation
My knees began to shake as I slowly began to turn around to meet the stranger's gaze. A shockwave of fear and confusion hit me as I realized that this man looked almost exactly like Nathaniel. His hair was the same sunny blonde color, and it descended down to his upper back. One side of his face was scarred and war torn in appearance. He wore a black leather tunic, with a long trench coat lined with fur. In one hand, he held a cane that was supporting one leg, and in the other, was a hand gun gleaming in the moonlight, pointed directly at my head.
"Get on your knees," he said. "Keep your hands where I can see them or I will shoot you. Now, I want your names."
"Sylvia," I said, shaking.
"Sylvia what?" he said. "A first name doesn't tell me anything. Don't try to play me for a fool, because I can almost guarantee that I'm much smarter than you are, and also, I have a gun, and it's very real and very loaded. So just consider that into your calculations."
I paused. I remembered Roger saying that under no circumstances am I ever to reveal my true name. I decided to try another tactic.
"I'm looking for Near," I said quietly.
He seemed even more angry with my response. He walked over to me quickly, limping with his cane. He pointed the gun directly, point-blank, to my head. I started hyperventilating with fear. Tears spilled out of my eyes. He was going to kill me. I pissed him off somehow and my brains were going to be splattered on this walkway. Caroline leaped off the ground and shouted.
"No, don't!" she shrieked.
"Get back on the ground or I will blow your fucking head off!"
She fell back to her knees, panting as hard I was, biting her knuckles and shaking. I kept my eyes locked to the ground. My fingers started to scratch the bricks of the walkway. My knuckles clenched and I felt the cold metal of the gun make contact with the top of my head.
"I'm not going to hurt either of you if you tell me what it is I want to know," he said, this time a little more calmly. "How do you know Near?"
I couldn't answer. I was panting and crying too hard.
"Look at me," he insisted. I couldn't move my head. I was paralyzed with fear. He then gruffly grabbed my chin and pulled my face up to look at him. His eyes were a golden brown color. I could see all the details and dents in his scarred face.
"Where do you come from?" he demanded.
I choked back my tears and swallowed the lump in my throat long enough to answer.
"I come from Whammy's House," I said.
"Is Sylvia your moniker, then?" he asked.
"Y-yes," I stammered.
I took a deep breath as he lowered the gun to his side.
"What's yours?" I dared ask.
"What?" he said.
"You know that I have a moniker," I said. "After I revealed to you that I was from Whammy's House, you desisted in trying to discover my true name. Which leads me to believe that you know the ultimate rule. You don't look old enough to be a member of the faculty, so I think you're another one of us."
"None of your business!" he said, visibly agitated. I knew I was pushing my luck badly, but I had a hunch.
"Are you another survivor?" I asked, hopeful. "Your face, your leg...did you manage to make it out as well?"
"There were no survivors," he said. "Other than you, apparently."
My heart sank. I was the only one. The only one of my generation left, of all the children. And then, I knew there was only one logical conclusion left.
"You're Mello," I said. "Aren't you?"
He didn't answer. He instead turned his attentions to Caroline.
"Who is she?" he demanded. "Are you another survivor?"
She was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. He looked over to me for an answer.
"She's my roommate," I said. "She took me in. Her name's Caroline. Caroline Jones."
Suddenly, his demeanor changed. He walked over to her and knelt down in front of her. He looked at her, but this time without suspicion or aggression. It was more...curiosity. Even, hopefulness.
"Are your parents alive, Caroline?" he asked.
She looked up him. She started to compose herself, slowly. She looked at him intently through her swollen, puffy, red eyes. She sniffed a few times, swallowing her tears.
"When you were six years old," he began. "Were you in a foster home with William and Astrid Pentergrass, among two other girls and three boys?"
In the blink of an eye, she flung herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Her hands twisted into the fabric of his coat. He embraced her as well, petting her hair softly.
"I can't believe it," she breathed into his shoulder. "I can't believe it's you."
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't realize at first it was you, I didn't mean to frighten you."
He lifted her up to her feet, not breaking the embrace. He picked up his cane in one hand and kept one arm around Caroline.
"Come inside," he said. "We have a lot to discuss."
He led us up to the front step, through the wooden double doors. Inside was fairly dark, save for one lamp in the corner of the room. The room had two couches on either side, and surrounded by four thick walls, each with a wooden door and visible locks. Beside each door was an intercom system, which I assumed was connected to each room beyond the doors. Mello shut the front doors behind us and limped over to the door facing us and pressed the button on the intercom.
"Watari," he said. "We have welcome company after all. Please come out here."
The door clicked, and then opened. My eyes very much welcomed the sight of Roger stepping out of the room, which I could now see was a corridor. He shut the door softly behind him.
"Sylvia!" he said in surprise. "My goodness, you're alive!" A smile formed across his aged face.
"I managed to make it out of the tunnel," I said. Roger then walked over to Caroline.
"Hello young lady," he said. He reached out his hand politely. She gave him her hand and he shook it slightly.
"This is Caroline," Mello told him. "A very old friend of mine."
Roger gave her back her hand and dusted off his coat slightly.
"Allow me to bring you all some tea. I'm sure both of you have had a very tiring journey, and an even more exhausting encounter with this trigger happy young fellow," he said. He turned to the door to the right side of the room.
"Well I didn't know who it was," Mello said. He looked down the gun he was holding, and then turned and set it down on an armoire next to the door parallel to the front door. Roger disappeared behind the door on the right.
"So," I started. "Where's Near? He and I were once true friends and I was hopeful that he might be able to render some assistance."
Mello dropped his eyes to the floor, and tapped the head of his cane with his free hand. He sighed and looked back at me.
"Near is dead."
Suddenly I felt the room spin as the breath was sucked from my chest. My throat became dry and my legs felt like gelatin. I could feel my neck and head burning, and my heart seemed to be excreting a great pressure on my windpipe. Still, my face remained the same.
"When? How?" I said, breathlessly.
"He was killed in a building explosion about three years ago," he said. "Technically he died at the hospital, he was resuscitated, but was in a vegetative state. It was determined he had almost no chance of recovery. He was declared brain dead and his organs were donated."
"What kind of building explosion?"
"It was a bombing of a maximum security prison in Romania."
"Do you know how it happened?"
"I can't tell you that."
I felt cold, almost numb. On the way up to this place, I had built up some hope about seeing him again. Now he was gone, forever. There was no more hope.
"So are you acting as L now?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "My wife and I are."
I laughed slightly. "Attachments," I muttered.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Near was wrong," I said. "He said you'd lose out in the end because you were attached to somebody. Yet you're the one still alive."
"You're married?" Caroline said. "To who? Is she pretty?"
Roger re-entered the room carrying a fine silver tray with an antique teapot with four teacups. He set them down on the armoire, and served us each a cup. I recognized the scent as being jasmine. The warm liquid soothed my burning throat.
"Where's your wife?" Caroline asked again.
"She's away," he said. "She had some business to attend to. She'll be back in a few days I think."
"I want to see his grave," I said suddenly.
"Oh, I see," Roger began. He seemed to understand what I was talking about. "He is buried in the garden. I suppose I could escort you there tomorrow."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I said. "Why am I the last to know? You knew of my fondness towards him. I loved him, Roger. I deserved to know before seeking him out blindly."
"You weren't ready to know, Sylvia," he said. "And if you didn't have anything to run to, would you have been able to escape a certain doom?"
"And what do I have now?" I said. "What kind of life is left for me now? I've lost everything."
"Maybe you could be of some assistance in our new endeavor," Roger said.
"Who did it?" Sylvia said. "Who shot all the children? Who killed everyone in Whammy's House?"
"It was the Romanian government," Mello spoke up. "They blamed Near for the destruction of their prison. The explosion killed nearly everybody inside. They decided that all the children of the Orphanage were a threat and needed to be destroyed. They interpreted the program as a militarization scheme."
"And what 'new endeavor' is this that you're talking about?" I said.
"Before I tell you anything about that," Mello said. "I haven't forgotten that you arrived here by car. Since I saw the car drive away, and I know cars don't drive themselves, I know you had someone drive you here. Who drove you here?"
"It was a neighbor who lived down the street from Caroline and I," I said.
"How did you come to the point of him driving you here?"
"He knew who Near was," I said. "He offered to take me here. Caroline asked to come and he allowed it."
"How did he know who Near was?"
"He mentioned he was a part of some genetic experiment that Near had been in charge of."
"I see."
"What does it mean?"
"Even if I knew," Mello said, "I wouldn't tell you anyway."
"Why not?" I demanded. "I've volunteered all the information you asked for. What about me? Where are my answers?"
"If I decide you trustworthy, all will be revealed in time." Mello finished his cup of tea in one final gulp. I had neglected mine amongst the deep conversation. I looked over at Caroline, who had not only sat down on the couch, but managed to doze off. Roger set his cup back on the tray. I drank the remainder of my tea down quickly, even though it was cold now.
"I think perhaps it's time to retire to bed," Roger said. "You two will have to sleep in here, I'm afraid, for security reasons. All of the doors are locked and armed with alarms. I will wake you up one hour before breakfast. After that, we will start discussing your plans."
Mello and Roger both left out of the door on the back wall. I walked over to the couch opposite from where Caroline was fast asleep and collapsed into the soft cushions. I stared up at the high ceiling in this veritable fortress of a home. Somehow, I would have to manage this night of endlessness knowing that the one thing I was holding on to was gone.