The Outcast - Chapter Ten

The funeral came quickly. It was yesterday, and I remember wearing black, the rain pelting my face, mourning the dead man in the casket before me. Marina was gripping my arm at the time, burying her head into my side, her arms tight around me. I felt cold, colder than I was used to. And the wind had nothing to do with it. I was numb, maybe in shock. And as they placed him in the ground, I remember thinking that it wasn't fair. That's all I remember from yesterday. Maybe that's for the best.

I climb down the stairs and turn to enter the kitchen. Someone I don't know is there, talking to Sasha. I narrow my eyes at her for a moment. She's not getting back in the dating game so soon after my dad's death, is she? but no, the look on the man's face isn't one of adoration or love or affection; it's a mask of pain and horror. I lean as much as I can into the wall, making sure they can't see me, and listen in.

Normally, I'm not one for eavesdropping, but in this case I'll make an exception. I want to know what's going on.

"I don't understand," Sasha says, and I can tell there's tears in her voice. Along with fear and anger. "How can you have those bumps? There the same as..." she trails off. As my father's, I know she's about to say.

I shiver involuntarily.

"I know," the man says, his voice an urgent whisper. "I don't understand it either. I was walking down the street a few days ago, and some punk in a hood comes and jabs this needle into me. I got it checked out, but there was nothing there. Now I hurt all over, I've got those spots and lumps, and my docter is connecting it with liver failure and alcohol abuse. But I haven't done any drinking! It was that punk with the needle!"

I frown to myself. Was that what happened to Dad? Dear God, if someone was the cause for his painful death, I would surely make them pay.

When Sasha speaks again, there's a frown in her voice. "What are you saying?" she whispers. The fear in her voice is evident, though I'm sure she's trying to hide it best she can. She's a strong woman.

"That's just it!" the man hisses in a whisper. They're trying to keep their voices down so as not to draw attention from me and Marina. Well, too late for that. I'm already listening in. "The needle! I'm telling you, it was the needle! That punk stabbed me with it now three days ago, damn it, and now look at what's happening to me!"

"I know...." she whispers faintly.

"It's the same thing what happened with Tom," he says. I flinch at the mention of my father's name. "He came to me one day, said this punk poked him with a needle a few days before. Now he's dead! Don't you see? Someone is doing this! And now I'm dying too!" his voice is scared and angry.

"I think you're overreacting a bit-"

"Overreacting?" he roars. "I'm not overreacting, Sasha! I respect you, and I respected Tom when he was sober, and respect his kid and your kid too, but damn it, I'm dying! You have to believe me. Someone out there is having a great laugh at my expense!"

"Frank," she says calmly, "Please, just calm down. You're not helping, yelling like that."

He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he says. "It's just...this is freaking me out..."

"I'm scared too," she says. "If someone killed Tom, I want that person found and punished. In the meantime, some maniac is running loose, and it might not be safe for Kyal or Marina."

"I know," he says. "I suggest you pack up and leave town. Take Kyal with you. Find somewhere safe, but get out."

She pauses. "I don't know," she says. "I don't think any of us are in the mood to move...."

"Would you rather wait for the killer to get to you? Or Marina? Or Kyal?"

"No, of course not, it's just...we need more time, Frank...."

"I understand," he says. "But please, Sasha, make it quick. Leave soon. For the kids' sakes if not for your own." he turns and leaves through the back door. I hear the screen door slamming closed.

Sasha slumps into a chair and buries her head in her hands. Sobs rush out of her. Everything that's happened has finally caught up with her, and I want to comfort her, but I can't. I know she won't take well to me seeing her in that condition, and I won't worry her about what I heard. She'll know what to do, when the time is right. I trust her.

For an instant, fear flashes to Marina. With a breath, I remember that she's still up in my room, sleeping. Good. I don't want her out there while a maniac is on the loose.

My eyes widen. Jordan. He doesn't know. Shit! I have to find him, warn him. I sneak through the house to the front door and quietly slip out so as not to draw attention to myself from Sasha. I race out of my yard and onward to the park.

He has to be there.

He's always there on Fridays. Always.

I emerge through the brush and the trees and eye the place where he's usually sitting. He's not there. Damn it! I growl and kick at my usual tree, frustration and fear taking over. If only I knew where he lived...he never told me, though. Damn it.

"Kyal?" a voice from behind me.

I move away from the tree and spot Jordan coming toward me. He's rubbing his arm thoughtfully. I frown. "What's wrong?" I pray it's not what I think it is....

He grunts. "Punk with a needle."

No....

Please.

"No..." I hear myself murmur. Not fair, a voice inside me says. It's just not fair.