The edited version of "Taken Away"

5: Taken Away

Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!

The school bell releases an ear-piercing ring—it was lunchtime, the time of day everybody loves. It felt satisfying to take a break from their headache-inducing work, and to fill their starving bellies. The sudden noise startled kids who were focused on their classwork, while students who craved a break were happy to escape their class. As students flooded the halls, the sounds of slamming lockers and chattering students became profuse—people either grabbed their lunchbox or darted to the cafeteria to buy themselves a portion of food. For a certain student, he often found himself in the cafeteria, and if he's not waiting in line to buy lunch, Clyde McBride typically finds himself at the usual table with his friends.

Today isn't any ordinary day, though—Clyde and his two main friends, Rusty and Zach, were excited, as they had received an invitation to hang out from their distanced friend, Lincoln Loud. They want to return the favor, and long to spend their lunch with him.

Clyde approaches a table where his red-haired, Zach, sits alone. "Hey, Zach!" he shouts, successfully getting his attention. "Looks like you beat me to it. You're the first one here, it's no competition though." He walks up to the table, and stands directly in front of his friend.

"Ha! I know. I won today." Zach boasts, with an obvious tone of sarcasm. "You're honestly so bad at this!"

Clyde facepalms. "Your locker is like, closer to the cafeteria, so you didn't accomplish anything." Clyde protests, annoyed at his friend's vaunting behavior. "There's no need to act like you won the lottery."

Zach shakes his head, laughing a bit. "I was just playing around, can you not identify sarcasm? Here, grab a seat, nobody's sitting next to me." he says, slapping his hand on the unoccupied spot next to him. "I'm a loner, and I don't like being one."

"Bet!" Clyde says. He walks around the table and sits next to his friend. The two aren't alone for long though, as their friend Rusty makes it to the cafeteria soon after. They both spot him amidst the mass of students.

"Oh look, there's Rusty. Looks like he's here early as well—perfect timing." Zach points out. Clyde looks in his direction and immediately recognizes his distinct hairstyle—orange curly hair. Rusty stands tall above the surrounding students, as he grew to a height of six feet one inch over the years. He often lied about his height though, and would tell others that he was six feet three inches, or six feet four inches. Unfortunately for Rusty, most people saw right through his lies.

"What's up? I survived!" Rusty greets, walking up to their table. "I'm so glad I didn't get trampled in the halls. You should've seen how crazy it was, it definitely got worse since you've been here."

He recalls earlier, being pushed around in a herd of rushing students. It was embarrassing—he had to awkwardly ask students to move, as they blocked and surrounded his locker. They were a bit annoyed with Rusty even though they were partly at fault. He hated the crowded hallways—it was a pain to navigate, especially when the temperature soared and the air smelt of everyone's essence.

"Oh, I feel you man." Zach says, relating to his friend's emphasis on the student stampedes. "What are you waiting for? Come sit down, Godzilla." Rusty plops down next to Zach, who's now surrounded by two of his friends. He can't help but enjoy the attention he gets for his height, because otherwise, he wouldn't get much attention, and knowing Rusty, that would severely hurt his big ego.

"What'd you guys get for lunch?" wonders Rusty, eying his two friend's lunches. He was undoubtedly a curious soul, especially when it came to food—he loved eating. Nothing was more satisfying than filling your belly after a long work period. He also credited food for his height, claiming that nutrition played a vital role in his growth.

"Uh, probably a peanut butter and jelly sandwich…. You?" Clyde peers into his lunchbox to verify his claim. "Yeah, it is." Rusty shrugs and gestures to a brown paper bag he brought to the table.

"I don't know what I got for lunch. My dad gave me a surprise." Rusty says, unraveling a brown paper bag. He stretches the bag's opening and looks inside. "Ugh. It looks like garbage. It's the usual grilled cheese, and some apple slices with peanut butter." He brings his hands to his face—an act of embarrassment. "That makes me feel like I'm in kindergarten. It's embarrassing to bring stuff like this to school! And the sad thing is, my cooking skills are in the gutter, so I can't make my own lunches."

"A grilled cheese? That's not garbage…" Clyde argues. "You know it could've been way worse. Remember that time you brought a sandwich with just lettuce to school?" He pauses for a moment to think of a clever insult. "If you do that again, Gordon Ramsay will stick those two pieces of bread on your ears... you idiot sandwich."

"That's because I made it myself and, in my defense, we had nothing to put on the sandwich really." Rusty objects. "Plus the grilled cheese is a pile of garbage. It's not even hot—just a layer of rubber-like cheese in between soggy, stone-cold bread."

"Well, what do you expect? It sits in your lunch bag wrapped in saran wrap for three hours, steaming and getting all soggy." Clyde says, "Eh, that is pretty gross to think about... it's practically creating it's own ecosystem in that container."

"You know what Rusty?" Zach jeers, "If you're so damn picky, just go buy lunch at the cafeteria. It's not that expensive plus you're probably rolling in the dough right now."

"I can't even afford a chocolate bar." Rusty deadpans.

Zach tries to come up with an insult, but he fails to do so. "Yeah, well... uh... so... Ugh! whatever, just keep lying…" Zach utters. Before he could continue talking, he spots a familiar face in the background—it's their friend, Stella. "Oh look, there's Stella."

The three scan the cafeteria and spot Stella, a tall slender girl who's dressed in a white t-shirt with a red-star in the middle and dark blue jeans. She's seemingly walking towards them.

"Hey Stella!" Clyde waves. "Are you joining us?"

"Of course…?" she says. "Why else would I come here? I always sit here... well most of the time." Sometimes, she would sit with other girls from her classes. Over the years, her friend circle grew past them, and she'd occasionally hang out with her new friends—though she'd often try to hang out with her long-term friends.

"I was just asking, come sit down. There's a free spot there." Clyde insists, gesturing to a spot across from them. "We're taking up all the space on this side of the table. It's not easy sitting with these fatsos." Rusty and Zach give their friend annoyed glares. "Aw, come on guys, I was just joking!"

"Sure, no problem." Stella giggles. She sits down across from them. "You guys seem much happier today." Clyde nods excitedly, knowing well that today he'd get to spend time with Lincoln, and discuss plans on their first hangout after a ghastly period of silence.

"Great, now we're close to a full deck!" Rusty exclaims. "We're just missing Liam." Clyde groans and shakes his head, and Rusty immediately understands why. "I left Lincoln out for a reason... face it Clyde, he's not going to join us today. Him and Birtz should be in the cafeteria already and if they aren't here we can't invite them. What time is it Stella?" The girl glances at her wristwatch for a brief moment, then stares back up to announce the time.

"It's eleven forty-five." she says.

"See Clyde?" Rusty nags. "He's fifteen minutes late. That's half of the time we're already given to eat." Clyde doesn't like his friend's attitude—he didn't find it very respectful to jump to conclusions—especially in this scenario.

"What about Liam? He's not here yet!" points out Clyde.

"I know that he's got a strict teacher, she's probably keeping them from leaving." Rusty suggests. "She's done it before."

"Rusty, you're so hard-headed. Think of the possibilities. Lincoln's group can be stuck in traffic on the way back, plus that laboratory they went to is in another city. Can't you be a little more considerate?" argues Clyde. "Cut the man some slack..."

"Ugh, I see we're back to arguing. Just stop, Liam is right there, and he doesn't need to be welcomed with this." Stella says. The four locate Liam, who sports a striped blue t-shirt and long brown pants. He has orange hair styled into a bowl cut.

"Hey y'all!" he says. "How were your classes?"

"Fine..." Stella says, her voice drifting off.

"Good, but I got my phone taken away first period. Luckily I got it back before we left. Man, that was embarrassing." Rusty replies.

"They were fine, but art class was unbearable. Rusty and Zach were being so immature and annoying." states Clyde.

"Sure, go ahead and say that, big mouth." counters Zach. "You were yapping away just as much as me and Rust."

"I guess..?" Clyde says. "Most of it was just talking back."

"Still counts as smartassery." says Rusty.

"Man, you fellers don't seem to get along." says Liam, sitting next to Stella. "Why are you always talking about your problems?" Though Liam had a valid point, Rusty dismisses it, and claims that it's just their nature—and that it isn't out of the ordinary, either.

"You don't seem to understand, most friends here love to have pissing contests." Rusty states. "That's just us messing around and having fun. We're all good friends."

"What? Pissing contests?" Stella asks. "Like… who can pee the most? That's weird..."

"No!" laughs Clyde. "It means that most friends in the school like to make each other mad, or in other words, piss them off."

"I was joking..." claims Stella.

"Uh, sure thing." Clyde awkwardly says. Before they could continue their conversation, they're interrupted when an unfamiliar voice sounds behind their table.

"Hello?"

They all look at a boy who's standing behind Liam, one who hasn't interacted with them before. He's wearing a large black hoodie, zipped down to reveal a plain white t-shirt. He's also wearing light blue denim jeans, which stretched down until his ankles, exposing white socks that accompanied red and white basketball shoes. He has striking brown hair that's styled messily but also tidy. Zach, Rusty and Clyde immediately recognize him—it's Birtz.

"I'd like to introduce myself, my name's Birtz." he greets them, feeling awkward upon seeing a few of the kids at the table giving him weird stares. "I'm friends with Lincoln, we share a lot of classes together."

Zach, Rusty and Clyde can't help but feel strange that Birtz is approaching them on his own. They were planning to invite him and Lincoln to join them at lunch, yet Lincoln is noticeably absent and nowhere to be seen. The white-haired boy definitely came to school today—so what's the buzz? Is Lincoln purposefully ignoring them? No, he can't be doing something so ridiculous, for sure.

"Hi, Birtz. Name's Stella." Stella says, standing up and shaking Birtz's hand. "Lincoln only says good things about you. He can write a bestseller with all of the things he says."

"Really?" Birtz chuckles. He feels satisfied to know Lincoln was happy with him—though he never had any doubts in the first place.

"Hey, I'm Liam." the farm boy says, while Stella sits back down. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." says Birtz. "May I sit next to you?"

"Sure, of course you can!" he replies.

Birtz takes a seat next to Liam. The question of Lincoln's whereabouts nag the hell out of Clyde, prompting him to question Birtz on the matter.

"Have you seen Lincoln around, Birtz?" asks Clyde. "My name's Clyde, by the way. The tall kid next to me is Rusty and the guy with glasses is Zach. I've been Lincoln's best friend since elementary school."

"Yeah, I've heard a lot about you. Lincoln always talks about you, especially about how you've been loyal from day one. He's also said that you've been a very supportive friend and a very collaborative one too. He told me he's been planning to bring your little gang back to it's old glory."

"Then, where is he?" puzzles Zach. "If he wants to hang out with us more, then why is he absent."

"He was feeling sick. Honestly, he looked terrible. Something happened during our science field trip that I can't really explain. After that he seemed nervous, broken down and tired. He said that he might've came down with something, but he'd try to stick around anyway. But unfortunately, it worsened to the point that he had to go home early. His dad picked him up a few minutes ago. I hope he's alright." clarifies Birtz.

"Probably just didn't want to be with us," mutters Rusty, earning a glare from Clyde. He kicks Rusty's shin, which is concealed by the table. "Ow, what was that for?"

"Overthinking and jumping to conclusions." Clyde says.

The others start to feel a hint of worry. The Genetics Laboratory of Detroit had some pretty dangerous specimens, which they were fully aware of. It should only be a coincidence that he feels sick there, he could've easily caught a virus beforehand, right? …Right? The Genetics Laboratory of Detroit has very strong security anyways since it's open to visitors, especially student visitors.

"Man, I hope he's alright." frets Zach.

"Me too." says Stella.

Rusty starts to feel bad for the stuff he said earlier. "Maybe it was a bit harsh of me to say that..." His concern for Lincoln creeps up on him. "Now that I think about it... stuff could've of gone wrong..." He pauses for a moment. "Very wrong."

"Well, yeah, obviously..." his nerdy friend responds. "He'll be fine though. Lincoln's a tough cookie, and this is coming from a guy who's known him for six years."

"Yeah, he'll be okay, right?" asks Rusty.

"Of course." Clyde says. "Now stop being a baby!" They both have a laugh.

"Well, Birtz, would you like to tell us about yourself?" asks Stella, only to get a small period of silence in return. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I do want to talk! I just have a problem with eating with new people, like I find it too awkward... Want to talk outside when they turn us loose? I'd love to get to know you guys better. Maybe even... join your gang... you know?" says Birtz.

"Sure, it's fine with me." replies Stella.

"Suits me." agrees Rusty.

"Suits me, too." says Zach.

"Yeah, whatever's fine with you. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable." states Clyde.

"Wouldn't hurt to." says Liam.

"Sweet, talk to you guys later!" Birtz says, leaving the friends to continue their original conversation. "Meet me outside, by the park bench."

"Alright!"

It seems that Birtz will be able to get along with Lincoln's friends just fine. Hopefully, Lincoln will be able to satisfy his wish and restore the gang back to it's former glory. Back to the days where they'd solve school mysteries together, create plans together, host monthly traditions and hang out on the regular, all while adding Birtz to the equation. Time will tell—even though they were off to a good start.

However, things weren't faring well for their white-haired friend.

On Franklin Avenue, the front door of the Loud residence is unlocked and opened, revealing Lynn Loud Senior and his only son Lincoln Loud. The sun shines on the teenager's distinctive white hair until he steps into the house—any luminous qualities on his attire also disappeared. His father follows suit and shuts the door behind them. His son appears to be broken down and tired. Lincoln's eyelids are feeling heavy while his legs are shaky and weak. Rita Loud has been eagerly awaiting her son's arrival upon hearing that he had suddenly fallen ill. She's sitting at the dining room table, from which she can see the front door and the living room.

"Hi sweetie, I heard you weren't feeling well today." she says, worrying after catching a glimpse on Lincoln's condition. He appears to be hot, his eyes are half-open and his breathing is heavy.

"Oh, I'll be fine, mom." Lincoln assures. "I'm just feeling a little run down, so you don't need to worry. I'll go get some rest."

"Are you sure…? You look hot, almost sweaty." Rita worries. She loves all her children—and she has a very close bond with her son. She couldn't bear the thought of something happening to him, and it shook her to the core.

"It's nothing. I think I just have cold sweats—I'm feeling pretty hot but very cold." Lincoln says nonchalantly, heading for the stairs. "I'm going up to my room now to get some shuteye, if that's okay." His response send waves of doubt into their parents—he seemed oddly calmer than usual. They'd usually expect a tired, broken down voice, but this time around it wasn't the case.

"Well, would you like something to eat before you leave?" asks Rita. "You came home before you could eat anything for lunch."

"I'm not too hungry right now. " Lincoln says, now making his way up the stairs.

"Are you sure buddy?" Lynn Sr. verifies. "Not even a banana?" He takes a second to watch his son. His steps seemed normal, but heavy. "A glass of water?"

"No thanks." is all Lincoln says before reaching the top of the stairs, turning the corner and disappearing in the upstairs hallway.

"What was that all about?" A worried Lynn Sr. asks his wife, who was equally as concerned. The two parental figures stare at each other before both darting their eyes to the top of the stairs. This isn't the way their children would normally respond when sick.

Meanwhile, Lincoln enters his room and shuts the door before him. He drops his backpack onto the floor, and the shift of weight stuns him. He stumbles backwards, nearly tripping over the discarded bag.

"My god, what's wrong with me?" he thinks while taking off his shirt. The cotton from the inside feels damp as it slides along his skin. Once he pulls the bottom of the shirt from his back, he drops it to the floor and looks down at his chest, which was practically glistening from his sweat. "The hell? Why am I so sweaty?"

He looks back up, but instead of seeing his room normally, it's in circles. Everything in his sight goes in and out of focus, and it combines with the room's persistent spinning to create a nauseating sight that sends Lincoln tumbling backwards. Fortunately, the small size of his room stops him from completely falling, and he ends up just backing into his dresser, which sits to the left of his room.

"Shoot. I should just get to bed right away."

He tries to make it to his bed which only sits a few feet away from him. Unfortunately, the nauseating vision carries on and his steps are too slow and heavy. The overwhelming conditions are too much for the poor boy and he trips, falling to his knees with a large thud. Refusing to give up, the dedicated youth grabs onto the edge of his mattress, pulling himself up with any strength left in his already weak arms. Though he's eventually able to get onto his bed, he has no will to make an effort anymore.

Lincoln had never experienced something like this before. It was scary for the lad, given his age, but fear was absent from his thoughts. At this point, he was too tired to even think. He just wanted some rest.

He raises his arm up, and takes one last daunting look at the spider-bite.

"...It was just a normal bite.." he says, reassuring himself. Tension started to release, and his world went dark.