The Last of Us

Twenty-Seven

I enter the church slowly. My heels click against the cemented steps as I enter, stopping only momentarily to sign my name in the registry book.

A few of the girls from the support group follow my lead. There is a noticeable absence in the room today. Danni isn't here.

Claudine sits to my right, with Katie and Paige to my left. I feel agitated that Danni has yet to show up despite being aware that it would likely happen.

It had been a tense couple of days with no word from Chaplin about whether he had looked into Danni as a suspect. It didn't help that I still hadn't heard anything new about Randall.

The room quietens, and I scan the crowd as the last few stragglers take their seats. My eyes sharpen for any suspicious behaviour I may find—anyone who seems out of the ordinary.

As the proceedings go on and the eulogy begins, I notice how Claudine fiddles with her hands in a strange pattern, as if it is a habit she has.

I reach out, squeezing her fingers for a second before letting go. Sometimes I forgot an essential part of all this; protecting the girls is what I should focus on most today, not just looking out for strange occurrences.

"I'm okay," she whispers, despite the ashy appearance that has taken over the colour once in her cheeks.

I look over at Paige and Katie. Both girls seem to be off in a trance; a technique used best for funerals. If you focus on anything else rather than the funeral itself, it dulls emotions.

A sudden movement catches my attention to the left. Two police officers stand side-by-side against the wall, almost like statues. They're hidden half behind a pillar. It seems like a strategic move on their behalf like they've had the same thoughts that I have.

Relief floods me suddenly. What I've had to say hasn't been taken these past few days seriously. It's refreshing to know that Chaplin probably ordered police presence here today for the safety of the girls and to lock away this killer before they strike again.

The slideshow of photos begins to play out Sophie's life. She's a blonde toddler grinning at the camera, a tween in her school photos, and a teenager posing with her friends. A loving family photo.

I look away quickly. This is the part that I always find most challenging, despite my best attempts at remaining stoic. Everyone knows emotional responses aren't my most vital asset. I may as well be a brick wall, but sometimes—things like this—get to me.

I hear Claudine begin to sniffle next to me as a blur of movement catches my attention again. This time the movement comes from across the room from the police officers.

A man dressed casually in jeans and a black hoodie pulled across his head enters the room. Everyone else is preoccupied with the proceedings in front of us, but it's so clear that he sticks out strangely.

He doesn't move forward to take a seat. He stays towards the back, leaning against the wall. I glance at the officers to see if they've noticed him, but it seems they haven't yet.

I keep my eyes trained on him, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. I don't want him to notice me, but I want to catch a glimpse of his features to ingrain the face into my memory.

I feel my body begin to hum. I know this must mean something. I try to tame my excitement, knowing it couldn't come at a more inappropriate time.

He moves awkwardly like he knows he shouldn't be here. Turning up is a risk for him.

His head moves slowly around the room, and I glance at the slightest amount of brown hair. It hangs limply in from of his gaunt face. I notice the hollow of his cheeks and the dark pits of his sunken eyes. It's hard to see anything else, but he doesn't seem well.

Now that I notice it, his jumper seems to hang off him. His jeans are low on his hips; his boxers peak through slightly.

It happens so fast that I almost don't catch him looking me straight in the eye. I try to look away quickly, but it's too late. The damage is already done.

The man pushes himself from the wall, striding out towards the doors faster than lightning.

Coldness spreads throughout my entire body as I feel my stomach drop.

I push my way past Katie and Paige. I notice their perplexed expressions as I make my way down the aisle, focused on the doors as they swing shut.

I look over to see that the police are watching me, and I signal with my hands towards the door. They seem to get that something isn't right, finally.

Yet another example of why I've been trying to do their job for them.

Once I'm past the aisle, I sprint towards the doors. I catch a glimpse of the man. His hoodie has flown off in the wind as he turns left, disappearing from view.

I hear the police call out to me, but moments like this are time-sensitive. If I don't move now, he could disappear again.

I bound the steps down from the church and cut through the neatly-trimmed garden, moving towards the left side.

I can hear the heavy boots of the officers close behind as I round the corner.

The man is nearly 200 metres ahead as I race towards him. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I try to reach him in time.

I can see exactly where he's heading. A lone car is parked metres ahead of him across the road. I've never been good with car models, but it's black with tinted windows. I need help seeing if there are any number plates.

He's not far from the car now. He has to cross through the traffic, but he doesn't seem to care about that. Cars honk as they have to stop for him.

He opens the driver's side door, and I grunt, feeling my hope falter. Panic seizes my muscles as I feel my breath begin to catch.

He's going to drive away before I can get to him.

No. No. No.

Admitting defeat, I pull out my phone just in time to record the side of his face disappearing behind the closed car door.

I stop on the footpath by the road's edge, watching as he drives off at top speed.

The police officers stop short behind me, beginning to question me furiously.

I have nothing to tell them as my hope dies yet again.

Somehow, everything continues to slip through my fingers.

I wonder if answers will ever be found or whether they will become just another mystery.