12

The following weeks were mournful. I was taciturn and withdrawn into myself. That dreadful pit in my stomach opened up again. It was like seeing the noose hanging from the scaffold and being helpless to do anything about it. Kyle was already waiting at the bench on the agreed upon time. He did not look at me as I approached but had his gaze rested on the playing seagulls in the distance.

"Hey." I sat beside him to see the faintest wrinkle of disgust form on his brow. I did not care again. At least, he would not remember this; when I was done with him it would seem to him an office-cubicle daydream born of intense boredom. But for me, it would be a lasting burden. I could not whisk away my troubles with a command or jettison a sore memory with a song.

"Have you found anything?" I asked wearily.

He counted a beat before answering, "I have found Carle Donnors. I know where he lives."

Donnors? How did he pick the last name? Regardless, that wasn't the news I expected to hear. "How?" I asked Kyle.

He opened an envelope I did not know he was holding and pulled out a picture of some holiday mansion. I did not recognize the place.

"Where's this place?"

"Outside of town."

"Where outside of town?"

"North." North meant past the Hedakers abode.

There were houses there?

"How did you find it?"

He did not answer and I probed no further. If possible, I did not want to use my siren on him again except to make him forget my awful existence.

"Where's his car? Are you sure this is his house?"

Kyle pointed at the photo.

"The car is parked inside the house?" I asked.

He nodded.

These nods and bobs for answers; Kyle had been talkative when I met him. What had I reduced him to? My eyes watered. I stood up and moved a few paces forward so he wouldn't see my face.

"Thank you, Kyle. But I can't release you yet. I will need your help. I can't take down Carle alone, so when the time comes, I will be in need of law enforcement. I'll phone you in due time. You may go."

I watched him as he went along and then noticed a plaster at the back of his neck.

"Wait."

He halted.

"What happened to your neck? Were you hurt?"

He was unresponsive. I shook my head, frustrated, "Turn around."

He obeyed.

"Who hurt you?"

Kyle only shook his head. I drew closer to him. "Did you hurt yourself?"

He nodded shyly.

"But I told you not to hurt yourself. Is my siren waning?" What was the point of asking nicely when he would not answer?

I grabbed his wrist. He tried ever so slightly to shake me off. So, it was indeed waning.

"You are making this difficult for us both, Kyle!" I cried not even knowing when I had engaged the compulsion of my voice.

I think some people looked over at us from their boats. I reorganized myself and sirened, "No more leeway, no more leniency. Do you live with anyone else?"

He shook his head.

"From now till the time I phone you one final time, whenever you get home from work, you must handcuff yourself to the shower. You'll release yourself in case of work and only work emergencies." A tear trickled down my cheek. "You'll relieve yourself there, if you must. You'll eat there if you must. You'll sleep there if you must!"

I left him to go. I had been too cruel, I knew this. But the orders would be just for the night.

Tomorrow evening, I would already be upon Carle and Kyle would be finally set free of me. He'd have to sleep in the shower for just one night! That was fair! That was fair so that he wouldn't kill himself over some forgettable inconvenience. I had no time to whimper over Kyle. I knew where Kyle stayed. It was time to set a chain of things into action.

First, Dylan's letter just in case. I went back to the house, turned my pillowcase over and stashed the letter into a pocket. I knew exactly where to drop it. There were containers that were used only during fairs, and they were stacked in his grandma's shop—the one just beside ours. I would hide the letter in there and if I lost to Carle, Dylan would see the letter long after I was gone. If I won, I would return to take the letter back.

The following morning, I woke up early, around the time Mr Silvan roused from sleep. As he went to fish, I headed to the tent. Dylan's grandmother was opening up her shop when I reached and I offered to help her. When she was focused elsewhere I stuck the letter in the hole between the stacks.

"Is there any problem back there, Yara?"

I spun around with a card in my hand and read it out loud, "Get well, Grandma. Love from Dylan and the rest of the Donnors."

"Oh my. That was a card Dylan wrote me when I was sick. I had been looking for it. Where did you see it?"

"It was just behind here."

"Thank you, Yara."

"If you don't mind me asking, ma'am. Who is Donnors?"

"That's Dylan's last name, Yara."

Everything tumbled down in front of me. Kyle informed me the previous day that Carle had taken the last name Donnors. It couldn't be coincidence.

"Ma'am when was the last time you saw Dylan?" I panicked.

"This morning? Is there any problem, Yara?"

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"I am. I packed his lunch for him." She looked at her watch. "He'd be on his way to school by now."

"Okay. Thank you."

I took off immediately. Was Carle planning to hurt Dylan? No way. I knew the way to his school. There would be no problem getting there. I did not stop running; I looked around for any sign of Carle's car. I searched each face as I swerved around the crowd.

The school gate was only just opening. A few students strolled in talking amongst themselves. I paced by the sides waiting for Dylan to show up. The crowd of students increased by the minute. When, finally, I saw his dyed blond hair standing out from the mob of heads, I went over and slipped him quietly away.

"Yara? What are you doing here?"

"Did Carle do anything to you? Did he touch you?"

"Who is Carle?"

"Did you talk to anyone on your way here? Tall, slightly older-looking than us—" I searched for words to describe him.

"Calm down, Yara. What is it?"

"Just answer me!"

"No. I did not meet anyone." He showed me his earphones. "I was listening to music throughout."

I was relieved to hear that. The only way Carle could get him was through sound and his ear had been blocked. Still, Carle could have made him forget.

"Who is Carle?" Dylan asked me again.

"I'll tell you everything. Very soon. Just stay with others today. Don't go anywhere alone. Do you understand?"

"What are you talking about, Yara?"

"Just listen to what I say." I withdrew from him. "I'll explain everything later. I promise."

That bastard, Carle, was going to get it from me.

I was absent-minded the entirety of my work in the tent. Mr Silvan asked me if I was okay nearly ten times that day. Eventually, I told him I was not and he let me go home to rest. It was still afternoon. I got my phone from the house and hid Mr Silvan's rifle in my coat. I looked ridiculous walking along the street. I stopped at a junction and called a cab.

"We are going North, past Clear Coast." I used my siren as I got into the car.

"The road leading up there is blocked. There's ongoing construction," he said tamely.

"We'll go regardless."

He turned the key in the ignition and the car rolled along cutting this corner and that.

It was evening by the time we got to the roadblock and the path there was questionable. It was a weave off the road, from one narrow path to the next until the roads became tarred again. Another fifteen minutes drive and we were before barricades and cones discouraging us from going any further.

I alighted the vehicle and compelled the driver to forget and return home, then breathed in deeply and uncovered the rifle. I walked around the roadblock, did not see any houses yet, only one road stretching out farther than eyes could see. There were no vegetations at the either side but the land looked like it was being for something as compost had been smeared all over it.

I trekked the length of the road till it diverted left in a steep descent. I continued down to behold the houses Kyle had been talking of. About half of them were unfinished but the other half were mostly steel, glass and varnished wood. I could see into some rooms on the upper floors. Their balconies with lounge chairs, glass tables, and other beach house decor. Each house was the replica of the next, down to the model of the gate and partitioning of the house. There was no need for a gate even, as I could easily jump over the fence.

Before going any closer I dialed Kyle's number dreading silently that he might not pick up. He picked up.

"Kyle."

"Yes." I heard his low voice from the other end.

"Where are you now?"

There was some static noise, then I heard him say, "At the station."

I thought of the command I was going to give him. And when I was sure I said, "I want you to go to your sheriff and report a murder and a possible hostage situation in the region past the Clear Coast. Show them that image of Carle's car in case of any doubt." I paused. "After you have completed this, you'll be free of me, Kyle. You must forget all the times we met. You must forget everything I said to you. As far as you know, you got an anonymous tip about the crime about to be committed. Do you understand this? Kyle?"

"I do," his voice cracked and the call was cut immediately.

If I left where I was, I would be exposed. Carle would see me coming but it did not matter now. I had not forgotten about my claws; I did not know if it would get to that. Guns where cleaner anyway. One well calculated shot and Carle would be dead. I knew he wouldn't be carrying a gun as it would seem a tool so beneath him. I had every advantage. There was no need to fret. I came out of my hiding spot and made quick strides along the sidewalk. A good peek over the walls and I'd be able to determine which house held Carle's car. Not the first, not the second but the third. I stole another heavy breath behind the bricked wall and scaled the fence into the house.

I peered into Carle's car, nothing inside was noteworthy. I entered into the house, passed by the living room, tip-toed up the stairs to find another living room. I checked the bedroom, the bathroom and kitchen. There was no one in the house. I did not care again about stealth. I went to the back of the house which unlike the front had no fence but had a flight of stairs leading down to an enclosed beach. I saw Kyle's head first before Carle's. Kyle was holding a gun to his temple and facing the water while Carle relaxed on a lounge chair with an opened book covering his face. As I touched foot on last step he announced, "Look who has joined us, Kyle. It's your friend. Yara!"