ELBINA 3

Chapter 12

Lucas
My hand fumbles through the bag at my feet again. Running a hand over my face when I feel the emptiness of the bottle as I shake it partly.
I'd forgotten I'd finished it before.
Now it's some time past midnight and I can't sleep.
I'm stuck seeing and hearing her last words. Feeling the phone in my pocket with still that staining of her blood on the casing.
I need to sleep, I desperately needed too otherwise I'd go mad. Something that wouldn't help me tomorrow when I tried to find her, when I need eyes on the back of my head to look out for anyone else.
I've also got to hope there are more of them out there like the one today, sparing me against his given orders.
I wish I could thank him.
But I'd never be able to... I knew that too.
I can't not check, standing up from the sofa in the dark. A dull lamp on in the corner of the room is the only source of light but it disappears as I enter the hallway.
I'm not addicted, this is a desperate measure.
And yes, these people had opened their home to me and I was robbing their supply.
But I was desperate.
I needed this with everything in me, I wanted to black out. It's the only way that'll let me sleep, I'm certain of that.
The light flickers on, the kitchen flooded with brightness like earlier this evening, or rather last night. I look up at the clock above the stove, mounted onto the steel extractor fan.
2am.
Why isn't there any alcohol? There's nothing.
Not a drop of it in here and it's infuriating. I've tried cupboard after cupboard, fumbling my shaky hand through the spices and the other bottles but nothing.
What is wrong with this house?
I'd grown up in a house where there was something in each room. More whiskey then there was food and certainly more whiskey then there was water.
It was always a cheap brand, the higher the percentage the better. But he'd settle for a little less if the price was decent enough, at the time... I tried not to think about how many bottles I was throwing in the recycling bin every morning, the brand wasn't something I was particularly concerned about.
It was every week that he'd skulk off down the road to the corner shop or if he was feeling more flush, then the local superstore.
Occasionally, and only at the beginning, I would try and stop him... but that didn't last long.
I was naive to think I could get in the way. And I ended up nursing my own bruised ego for a couple of weeks.
After that, I gave up.
I gave up trying to stop him because at the end of the day it was his choice, I just wish I wasn't the one having to deal with the shit afterwards.
I know better than ever now, you can't stop someone from spiralling the gutter and you can't tell them it either.
They wouldn't believe you.
I'd heard every excuse under the sun from my dad on why he couldn't just give it up or why he relapsed the few times he did try.
After a while, it gets tiring.
Tired of being disappointed in him and tired of feeling guilty because I wanted someone else, someone better to be my dad.
That thought always made me feel the most guilty.
"What are you doing?" I twist around, a clattering of glasses in the room as I remove my hand from the cupboard. I don't get to say anything, I'm frozen but I'm shaking all at the same time.
Ben's angry expression intensifies, "Are you kidding me?! You're stealing from us?" My head shakes almost instantaneously.
"No! I swear-" I step forward, a hand raised out to him in hopes that would show him I had nothing. But then again, I was technically trying to steal. Just not anything too substantial?
"Fucking hell, you're shaking." His face screwed up into one of distaste and fury, "For god's sake, Riley let an addict into the house."
"I'm not- I can't-" Why is this so bloody hard to say?
"You can't what you little shit." I tense my fists, digging my nails into the palm of my hand.
Sweat soaks the back of my neck so the hairs at the nape move uncomfortably against the skin.
"I'm sorry. I just-" He looks at me waiting impatiently. "I can't sleep."
Suddenly, his attitude changes... his frown forming into a tight grimace. A sigh let out before he grumbled to me. "What are you looking for?"
"Anything... gin, rum.... Heck, even cider would do at this point." My words tumble over each other as I try to get it out before I back track. This was humiliating for me, it really was.
"Cider?" He looks surprised, "Jesus, you really are in withdrawal. That's piss that is." His nose wrinkled up in disgust. He looks less angry now and for what reason, I'm not sure.
"Hold on." I watch him leave the room, the sounds of him climbing up the stairs before he's coming back down. Riley is still sleeping I presume because he walks around quietly and he didn't even shout at me properly before. As if he didn't want to wake her.
Eventually, he comes in holding a bottle of rum. It's fancy, certainly not something I was ever accustomed to.
I'm used to paint stripper, it didn't matter what it was to me.
I'm stuck frozen to the ground, he flips open the cupboard and finds two small glasses, dropping them on the table before pouring a little into both.
To my surprise he passed me one, patiently waiting for my hand to stop jittering until I finally managed to grasp hold of it.
I can't help myself.
I gulp it down in one, a sense of relief and a thirst increases so my mouth feels dry.
Would he let me have the rest of it?
What if this doesn't have an effect good enough to cancel out the other stuff?
By the look on his face, he looks sympathetic .
It shocks me, I'm not exactly his biggest fan.
He takes a small sip of his own glass, sighing a little before leaning over to me and pouring a little more in.
This time, I don't immediately drink it.
"Why isn't it in the kitchen?" It's something I'd noticed, not a thing in the kitchen. Nothing to cook with even and by the looks of the rest of the cupboards, it's obvious they were keen cooks.
Either that or they randomly have every utensil under the sun, perhaps because of an online shopping spree gone wrong.
"Avoiding the temptation. This," He tilts the bottle, glancing down at himself. "Is mine. Keep it in my room under my bed."
"Do you...?" I question, he shakes his head.
"Not me." Ben tilts his head up to the ceiling and then I realise.
"Oh." I know it sounds stupid.
But I didn't know what else to say really, I certainly couldn't imagine her like that... Having that kind of an issue.
"After the pandemic, PTSD got to her." I take another sip, leaning against the counter. Ben pulls out a chair before dropping himself tiredly to the seat.
"Got to a lot of nurses actually."
I nod, "I can imagine."
"No." He said sharply, shaking his head with a frown. "You can't imagine."
"She couldn't work for a year afterward, there were too many people she cared about that died or patients who didn't need to die... who died alone." I gulp looking at him, his hand circling the glass on the table.
"So no Lucas. You can't begin to imagine what that'll do to a person."
I think I have some clue.
But I don't say that either.
"Does she still work as a nurse?" He nods.
"A lot didn't, you know? But she couldn't stay away, always passionate about helping people... Which I guess works in your favour tonight." He says pointedly, and I shuffle on my feet because of it.
"She's too good for the rest of us." I looked down, finishing off the glass again. It seems there were a lot of people too good for the rest of us, and they'll be the ones that get it the hardest.
It always seems to be the way, maybe they care too much?
But would I rather that?
Right now? My answer is no.
"Yeah, she is." He says into the quiet, staying like that for a few moments as I let my eyes wander around the room. At the neat white lined cupboard doors, a sleek of metal at the handles and a dark grey countertop. Certainly more of a modern kitchen then the ones I had been in before, even if the house was fairly small. It was still bigger than my apartment back at home, but I wouldn't be able to go back there after this.
Another thing from home lost to me.
"Have you always lived together?" I say,
"No. After the economy crashed, I'd lost my job and couldn't afford my apartment anymore. Riley was looking for someone at the same time and it worked. She's a bloody nuisance half the time but, she's there for me. I wouldn't know what to do without her whining at me, it makes me feel useful." He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.
"I got another job but I enjoy living here. Not being able to drink most of the time is annoying at times but it's worth it. And frankly, probably better for me in the long run." I let out a tight smile towards him, running my thumb over the droplet of liquid still left on the edge of the glass.
"I wasn't like this before. Everything's been piling up and now-" I was disappointed in myself.
Angry and disappointed.
I'm also a massive hypocrite too.
"I know you think I don't have a reason to be like this... But you don't know anything about me. This..." I lift up the glass, "Isn't me, Or at least it wasn't the person I was ever meant to be"
Not after my childhood, not when I knew the consequences first hand.
You'd think I'd know better.
But I also learned that initially, at the start of it all. It did make my dad feel better, even if it was a false kind of happy.... he was still happy.
"You're still you. When Riley was at her worst point, she was lost. But even then, there were still moments of her. It cycled, a few times she'd be lively and exactly how she is now but other times...." He drifts off, I understand.
And I think he assumed I did with the look he's giving me.
"She's lucky to have you." He scoffed at me,
"I know. I'm a fucking saint." He snorted in humour, downing the last of his drink before pushing the bottle across the table so I could pick it up.
It gurgles as I pour it, swilling against the glass until I hand it back to Ben with a thank you.
"You'll be fine." He cuts through my running thoughts of guilt and fear.
"I'm not so sure, Ben. I mean, I hope so but... I don't know."
"That's what Riley used to think, but that ain't going to help you in the end. Otherwise you'll end up just accepting that this is how you'll live your life from now on. And that's not good for you." A breath let out before he catches my eye, "One step at a time, and don't expect it to come together all at once. It never happens like that, so be proud of any form of improvement. Don't be so hard on yourself."
I nod, "I'll try."
He nods too, a small satisfied smile on his face. "Good."
Suddenly he taps the table, a loud yawn spilling from his mouth before standing up.
"I'm going to bed. And you should try too." The glass clinks in the sink, and he picks up the bottle from the table.
"Thank you." I said, making him pause in the doorway, a small smile on his face whilst giving me a dismissive wave of the hand.
Until I hear his footsteps down the hallway and the sound of him climbing the stairs. And I stand still in the kitchen, staring down at the glass in my hand.
Swilling the rum in my hand, and I itch to throw it down the drain.
I even step over to the sink, about to do it.
But I grumble to myself and tip it into my mouth.
Swirling it around in my mouth for a brief moment before swallowing.
Fuck.
I was so close.
But it's better to be close than nothing.
Right?
At least I thought of it, because maybe I didn't throw it away this time... But maybe I will next time.
I wash up the glasses, drying them off quietly before placing them neatly back into place again in the cupboard. My mouth was still dry though, but it was better than nothing.
Turning off the light, I walk back into the living room, flopping myself back onto the sofa. A pillow and a blanket placed at the end as if I would get some sleep, taunting me in the corner of my eye.
Pulling the handle of the backpack towards me, I reach in and grab the two parts to the phone. I'm not exactly sure where she got this one, it was decent but the entire battery could be taken out, something I immediately did last night in the shed.
I looked at the phone for some time, the sound of Ben's door shutting had gone a while ago now. Leaving me with this awful silence and before I can think better of it I place back the battery into the phone and watch it switch on.
I know by doing this that they'll know my location.
But then again, I hadn't exactly travelled far from when Susu contacted them, they already knew roughly where I was.
It takes me a few minutes to fumble through the phone, my hands shaking.
Until finally it's ringing, the quiet thrill of the phone before I put it to my ear.
Dropping my head so I'm staring off at my feet, elbows digging into my knees as I lean forward.
Why isn't he answering?
I recheck the phone, 3am.
I almost gave up on him.
Until suddenly, it stops and there's a shuffling.
"Susu, what took you so long? You can't go radio silent like that!" He sounds worried, I don't say anything.
"What happened? Did you show him the video?"
How do I do this?
"Susu?" I gulp.
My voice cracks, almost inaudible. "She did." I have to swipe up some running snot from my nose. My eyes are burning away cause it's threatening the escape of tears.
I can't say it.
I really can't say it.
After a few moments, I can hear Gerald let out a heavy breath. If I listen carefully enough, I can hear the shake of his own voice.
"What happened?"
I left her.
She -
I'm sorry.
"I thought you were against us." I said, a silence so loud swallows the room around me. It almost feels like I'm talking to myself, "I really thought by her contacting you, that I'd get hurt."
He doesn't say anything and I swipe another hand over my face in hopes it might relieve some of the tension in it.
"But then she explained everything... That's why I'm calling you now. It's the only reason I'm calling you because if she hadn't explained it then this would be the last thing I'd have done."
"I'm sorry." I say, it comes out through a choke.
Gerald jumps in quickly this time though, "You don't need to be sorry for anything Lucas. Just, tell me. What happened after the phone call?"
I can't say it.
I can't
I can't
"I couldn't stop it." And I really hope that's true.
"She kept telling me to run, I tried to help her but she just kept yelling at me... I didn't know what else to do." How do I get my words to come out normal? The tone of my voice sounds so emotional even I find it hard to distinguish what I'm trying to say.
"And then she was just gone." The popping sound echoes, her head slamming to the ground.
I shake my head, wiping up the tears from my sore cheeks, "I'm sorry Gerald, I didn't know people were following us. I swear I didn't know, I didn't mean-" He cuts me off.
"I know that, these people are ruthless... And I'm sorry Lucas."
"Why are you sorry? You didn't let her die. I'm the one who left the safehouse and I'm the one who forced her to follow me."
"No. You need to understand that you didn't force her to do anything, this is her job. To protect you, Lucas. I know she wouldn't have changed a thing, it's the job and frankly she always loved it. At the end of the day, this failure and her death is on me... It was my responsibility to keep you well protected and I failed that." I nod along with him, picking at the fluff from the cottoned trousers.
It's too quiet, and my heart is beating a mile a minute just thinking of how she looked at me.     How they all looked at me before they died, and their last words before they died.
"I've seen too much death." It comes out as a whisper.
"I know." Like heck does he know.
"Susu said that you knew about this 13 years ago, that the hard-drives were made for you. You should have sorted this then, you could have stopped all of us from being involved in this. Maybe if you'd done your fucking job...no one would have died, Fallen wouldn't have been killed, he might of even had a normal life." I speak with distaste, I'm furious with him.
I know really that going at this angle is useless, telling him how he should of handled it. It doesn't change anything today, does it?
Everything that happened won't go away, but maybe it might make him realize he has to do better. 
"You talk as if it's easy, going through the system is difficult. Especially when the people your trying to pin it to, don't play by the system. I don't like being responsible for people's deaths, I don't plan things so that it ends up that way. I do things to the best of my ability that will get those people behind bars. When you're dealing with organisations this large and who have killed as many people as they have and will continue to do so until they're stopped, altering my plans for the life of a one or two people can't be on my agenda. And that's just a fact." My teeth grind, his firm tone pragmatic but defensive. I didn't like it.
He sighs over the phone, like he's tired of explaining himself. "I had to hold off the raid on that facility, otherwise how would I have been sure that I'd get everyone? I had to be tactical, Fallen must have known for a long time how this would end for him." I shake my head, tears brimming again at my eyelids. "And he lasted longer than most people would, but he wanted to stop them. Which is something myself and my team can do, and I'd think he'd want that. Wouldn't he?"
"Fuck you Gerald, you don't know what he'd of wanted." But truthfully, did any of us? Did any of us really know him?
"Maybe not. But I did what I had to do." My knuckles whiten at the hold on the phone.
"But I brought you those hard-drives!" I hiss, another sigh resonating from him.
"They made them such a long time ago that I couldn't be sure that everyone would be included on that. This could have been expanded, more people involved that Elbina's parents didn't know about."
I gulp. "So the hard-drives were a waste of time?"
"No. They are great, but I can't finish this until I get rid of every dirty motherfucker out there that thinks they're above the rest of us. Starting with Arden."
"Who's Arden?"
"That's precisely what I want to know too, Lucas." I shake my head as he says it, a rumble of nervousness in my stomach making me sick.
"What do you want from me Gerald?" I sound defeated, it's probably because I'm tired. "Where do we go from here?"
I wanted to make a difference, a kind of difference that wouldn't end up with someone getting hurt. And I'm scared for Ella too, because given the video... who knows if she's even still alive?
"You carry on as you are, okay?" He said.
"Really?" I ask shocked, furrowing my eyebrows and biting at my nail again.
"Yes. I mean, now that you're out anyway....Who knows, you might get lucky and find her. Or I might get lucky." The words he says settle heavy in the room around me, a threatening nature by his more upbeat tone at the end.
"You might?"
"Yeah," He said lightheartedly, "You could lead me right to Arden."
This asshole.
"I thought you said you wanted to protect me?" My anger bubbling at the surface, and I liked it. I liked being angry because it had purpose, it had motive. Worrying didn't help with anything, not the way anger does.
"I do. But I also said my main agenda was getting everyone, and Arden's a big one. If you find Elbina, Lucas... let me be quite clear... Arden will find you." I sit back, the sofa feels uncomfortable, my skin feels uncomfortably sweaty from the threat.
A cold sliver travels across my skin so my hands feel numb too.
"And why is Arden so interested in Elbina?" Surely they had bigger things to think about then her? She's barely an adult, what could she have really done that she was actually responsible for? That wasn't her parents doing?
"Isn't it obvious?" I can almost hear the smile on his face, it pisses me off all the more. "...She's a Milderson." He states it like it's so clear and concise but I don't understand.
She wasn't really.
She hadn't been called that since she was a child, she never grew up with Fallen or her parents so why the hell does that matter?
The more he explained, the more my gut clenched and the more my heart ached.
I soak up the information he gives, mulling it over and thinking what I could do with it today.
But I also grow terrified.
Cause the more he talks about everything, the more it seems likely that I won't see her ever again.
And that scares the living shit out of me.