The Pseudo Semicolon

CHAPTER 7: New Connection

"Devie?" His father asked the next morning as Devland made some pancakes for himself.

"Dad?" This was a first, usually, his father left in the early morning for work and Devland had to carry his mom to bed from all the alcohol she drank the night before. He had settled into that routine and was surprised by his father's interruption.

"Hey bud..." His father looked down on the now burning pancakes, "You need help?"

"It's fine." Devland sighed, "I like burnt pancakes."

He didn't, he just grew used to it. Back in The Pines, the maid would usually make his breakfast and he would leave for school before his mother could see him. Not that she wanted to.

His dad gently took the utensil from his hand and slightly pushed him to the side. He hummed a happy tune as he poured fresh batter onto the sizzling pan, flipping it at just the right time so it looked golden brown.

"You must excuse your mother–she's coping in her own ways." Dad started and Devland flinched involuntarily, "Can you turn on the TV for me?"

"I know dad." Devland replied softly, "I just wish she would stop drinking so much that she can't even go to the bathroom to vomit."

"You should've woken me up to help you clean."

"It's fine. You looked like you needed the rest."

"Still though, I am your dad."

Yeah, a dad who won't look me in the eye and refer to me as his 'son'. "It's fine."

"How's school?" His father asked as he handed Devland the pancakes before he sunk into the couch, watching the news blare out from the television.

Devland quietly watched the pretty reporter explain how a family of five died from cyanide poisoning last night. What was even worse was the fact that it happened in Halderberry.

"Shit.." His dad groaned as the news showed the house where the murder took place. Devland didn't recognise the house and looked at his father quizzically. "It's the house down Evelyn Street. Dr. Rogers' house—he was a good man. I knew his family."

"Oh."

"We should pay our respects." His dad got up from his seat and disappeared upstairs. As they got out of the house and into their car, Devland noticed that most of his neighbours were out on the street, clad in black and donning sullen faces.

What happened next was a blur; he remembered reaching the house, he remembered his dad hugging some blonde lady and her children were sobbing alongside her. He remembered hugging those children and saying they were gonna be okay. Devland felt sick—sick with the familiarity of the gloomy atmosphere. He decided to focus on the house, noticing the paint-stained windows (Maybe little Michelle drew that) and the basketball hoop fitted outside (I wonder if Dr. Roger and John played basketball here together. I wonder if they were happy).

Wait.

He was missing something–missing a key detail. He heard that the murder took place yesterday and the poison that was used was cyanide. Could it be related...?

Devland was hit by a sudden wave of vertigo, sitting down on the pavement to handle his spiralling thoughts. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes.

The equipment was on the shelf on Wednesday evening, considering Devland left the chemistry lab at 4:55pm and Thursday's chemistry period started at 11:30am, it went missing between those times. The poison used was cyanide–now, the chemicals that were missing were Ammonia and Acetic acid. Those two can be used to create Acetonitrile, which when ingested can convert into cyanide. 'Right?' Devland pulled out his phone and did some quick research, it turns out he was right. Also, according to Akira, if a thief was to ever rob the lab, they would come out on Evelyn Street—the same street this house resided in.

'This could be a stretch. What if they used it for something else? What if both of these incidents aren't related? What if–What if–' Devland buried his face in his palms. Calm down.

'Okay so we need proof; proof that puts the equipment and the thief in this murder site. How do I do that? Should I inspect the bed reactor? Maybe find some evidence of acetonitrile in the house?' Devland could feel his veins surging with adrenaline, his mouth twisting into a cruel smile. Finally, he had a lead.

***

He was zoned out during the entirety of the morning classes; tuning out random chatter. However, he did pay special attention to The Elites, observing their every action.

None of them did anything suspicious, none of them gave any hint of what went wrong with their friendship with Max. It was frustrating.

"Again?!" Akira groaned as Devland pulled him into the janitor's closet after class ended.

"You up for some breaking and entering?" Devland grinned maniacally.

"What the fuck?! No!" Akira tried to flatten himself against the wall but Devland stepped closer.

"Boring."

"You're kidding right? The fuck do you mean 'You up for some casual law breaking'? Do you realise what you just said?!"

"Technically the owners are dead so the house belongs to no one. It's called ghost-hunting or haunted house exploration nowadays."

Akira's jaw went slack at the new information. "WHAT?!" He screeched.

"Shut up!" Devland whisper-shouted.

"You—What—DID YOU JUST SERIOUSLY WATER DOWN TRESPASSING A CRIME SCENE AS GHOST-HUNTING?!"

"Oh so you do know which house I mean?"

"Dr. Roger's house, I know." Akira nodded, "He–I visited him at times."

Devland's eyes narrowed, noticing the way Akira's tone lowered and the nervous energy in his body language. "Were you guys close?"

The other boy lowered his head, staring at his shoes. "Not really."

"Then?"

Akira went silent. That was when Devland realised that while he could trust the boy, Akira wasn't on board with that. To him, Devland was just another asshole rich kid who kept pestering him with suspicious questions and right now, asked him to break some laws with him. Which raised another question, Could he trust Akira? Maybe his brother made a mistake when writing the letter considering Akira seemed utterly clueless about Max.

'Stop.' He thought to himself, 'Here you have at least someone to trust. And besides, Max trusted him enough to involve him in whatever this was. Speaking of–where did all of this lead to? What was Max trying to say?'

One step at a time.

"Look—I won't force you to come with me, Akira." Devland started slowly and Akira looked up to meet his gaze, "If you don't want to do it then you don't have to." He sighed, realising that what he was about to do was probably really stupid and risky, but he had to do it. It was the only way to gain Akira's trust.

"At 3:00am, I'll be at the house." Devland exhaled, a lump forming in his throat as an unfamiliar feeling of uneasiness made him squirm, "I'll give you my number and you can call me, text me, or not do anything and just hand me over to the police. But I will be there because there's a slight chance that my brother wanted me to be there."

"He wanted you to break into a stranger's house?"

"On top of many other things." Devland chuckled, "But I need to know what happened, Akira. It's important." To me.

He felt uncomfortable, having never been this honest with someone else before. Usually when he wanted to do something, he did it alone. If he failed, he would punish himself, if he succeeded, he would go on to find another hill to roll the boulder up on. Devland always walked a lonely path, it was scary to invite someone to walk beside him.

'I want you to find Akira Fukumoto and take him with you. I think you'll like him and you'll need him for what's about to come' Max had written and Devland wasn't quite prepared to lose the only person who could help him with whatever madness Max left behind.

"I'll... see you... there?" Devland called over his shoulder as his palm rested on the door knob, he looked at Akira's grim face and nodded slowly, "Or not."