Crows of a Feather

12. We take a detour

"This is why I never had kids. They told me they were smart... Smart, my ass, day one and two of them are almost dead..."

It was a vaguely familiar voice, extremely deep and gravely, and with an accent I couldn't place. The voice was audibly irritated, but not angry.

"Don't interfere, they said. Don't meddle. This isn't a fucking nature doc, what was I supposed to do..."

I was lying on something soft. Not as soft as a bed, but maybe a couch or a futon. The room smelled like pine and tar. I heard and felt heavy footsteps pace across the room, objects being picked up and set down, and somewhere — probably in another room — a radio.

I struggled to open my eyes. I was right; I was on a futon, inches from rich wooden floorboards. The golden rays of a setting sun flooded in through half-closed blinds. Where the light reached, I saw dust dance slowly towards the floor. A pair of feet strode in and out of my view. My host wasn't wearing any shoes, but violently pink socks with little pictures of bees on them.

"Oh, and not to mention the car. Whose bright idea was that? Reporters and cops fucking everywhere..."

My host continued grumbling as he finally walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. For the brief moment the door was open, I could see Amelia on the other side. She was on a mattress like me but more awake and accompanied by Charon, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor. They were talking, but I couldn't hear what they said.

I considered sitting up. However, I discovered that moving a single muscle hurt at least fifty times worse than being punched in the face by Jared Woodard. All I could do was shut my eyes and go back to sleep.

The second time I woke up, the sun was rising. I felt easier in my body now, even though it still ached. With great effort, I was able to support my upper body's weight on my elbows and look around the room a little better.

So many plants sat on the windowsills that there was a green hue in the air. There wasn't much furniture aside from my futon. A wooden desk against one wall, a bookshelf against another, and a floor length mirror next to it. I managed to shift into a position where I could see my reflection.

My cheeks looked hollower than before, my skin was ashy and my hair greasy. The dark bags under my eyes were so prominent it looked almost like I was wearing makeup. I had never seen a ghoul, and I hoped I never would, but I imagined I resembled one quite the bit.

The door creaked open. It hadn't been locked.

"Good morning."

Had my body worked, I would've run away screaming.

It was the enormous man who had come to warn Elvira once. Elias. He looked even huger indoors. He had to duck to fit through the door, and his long viking hair touched the ceiling when he straightened his back. He didn't radiate the same raw power that he had back in San Fransisco. It was as if he was holding it back.

He was wearing more casual clothes now as well; fuzzy yellow and green socks, jeans with rips in them, and a tight-fitting t-shirt. I wondered if he had to get his clothes custom-made because I wasn't sure I had ever seen jeans that long at stores.

"I know I'm intimidating, but there's no need to look that scared," Elias said, but he didn't really sound that offended. "I saved you and your friends, after all."

Elias sat down on the floor next to me. He had a green glass bottle with him, which I would've needed a bottle opener for but he cracked it open easily with bare hands.

"Here. It's just sparkling water," he said and handed it to me.

I was wary, but reminded myself that the bottle had been sealed close and I recognised the brand. I took a sip. It tasted just like normal sparkling water, which I honestly wasn't a big fan of. I was still happy to drink it; I hadn't realised how dry my throat was.