The Art of Lying

Part III - Chapter 2: The Truth

(I had relayed all of this to James, while we were sitting in the park. Afterwards... Well, you can imagine his expression.)

I gaped at him. "You... What?" I asked, blinking. It was a lot to take in. I couldn't process it all. The man was staring at me intently. I opened my mouth to speak, but paused. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"You don't. But why would I lie?" He asked, turning to me. His face was completely blank.
"How do I know you're not trying to kill me?" I asked, and it actually inspired a laugh.
"If I wanted to kill you, I'd have killed you already." He said, in a completely unamused, and unremorseful voice. "In fact, I want to keep you alive."
"Why?" I asked, not even considering what he'd told me. Those questions can come later.
"Because you, James, are the last of us. The youngest, anyway." He frowned softly, and I saw regret in his eyes. "Our 'kind' dies with you."
"What do you mean 'kind'?" I asked, confused. "I'm human."
"Yes, you are... But not quite human." David replied, clearly thinking how best to word it.
"Less than human?" I asked, looking away, trying to process all of it.
"No... More than human." He looked at me with renewed intensity, as if he'd finally found his explanation. "We're evolved, James. More than any of them."
"Evolved?" Alright, now I was sure this guy was crazy (Admittedly, understandably).
"Yes... Look, it's difficult to explain, and I don't have time to explain it all. Just know that you're in danger. Serious danger."
"Yeah, I know that." I rebuked, in slight annoyance.
"Well..." He frowned softly. "I can help. You're going to need my help." He said.
"Like my parents did?" I asked, not in anger. By his expression, I knew I'd applied pressure in the wrong place. His face fell and, instead of fury, there was an abject sadness. I'd never seen it so... Concentrated before. It inspired misery in me too. He looked at me. "I'm sorry." I said, sincerely.
"Don't be..." He looked away, and I could hear his voice struggling to stay level. "James, in time you'll learn more about them... You'll learn how proud you should be to be their son. They were the bravest people I knew. The Mentors couldn't control them, but they were the nicest people... And they loved you. More than either of us will ever know." He said, and I found myself breathless. "I loved them, James. They were my family, after the war." He stood, still looking at me. "You look like your father, but I can tell you have your mother's kindness." He said, and turned his back on me. I stared at the receding figure, completely stunned.

I must have sat in that park for an hour. Just... Thinking. I'd learnt more about myself in that hour or so, than I'd ever known before. The Snake hadn't been lying. My parents weren't my parents. My real parents had been soldiers... What's more, they'd been like me. And they were dead. I'd never get to see them... Never going to get to know them. I couldn't move. I felt that, if I did, my mask would rip. I could feel emotion building up inside me. That man... David... He knew me. My... Godfather? Another thought occurred to me, and it tore my emotions up. That man had to have been the one that had given me away. I'd never known them... He had. He'd lost his best friends and had to give their kid away. I could only imagine how they'd feel. The man had left a card on the bench. I picked it up, and looked at it. David Lewett, Personal Accountant. It had a phone number underneath. I checked the back and, sure enough, there was a message, scrawled in black pen. 'We will meet again. Call me if you want to know more'. I frowned, and pocketed it. I went home, completely exhausted, more mentally and emotionally than physically.

I walked back home, and walked in. I saw my mum and my brother sat in the living room. They weren't... My real family? I couldn't believe it. It wasn't possible. But... I'd been told by someone who would know. Why would he tell me if it wasn't true? I didn't have proof but... It felt right. My 'family' had always felt... Well, not family. I always felt a strange distance, as if I was just someone close to the family. Turns out I was right. I... I couldn't talk to them about it. I headed upstairs, where I stayed for the rest of the day. I couldn't keep myself from shedding the occasional tear, saddened at the idea of parents who died. I logged onto Facebook. There was only one message. It was Tommy. This surprised me. He didn't really socialise with me outside of drama. 'Hey. Listen, someone just called my mum. They were asking about you. She wouldn't tell them anything. Is everything ok? What's going on?'  I read the message and felt ice flood my veins. They'd contacted Tommy? I groaned, and took the card out of my pocket. I didn't know whether to call. I could feel information running around my head, various instincts screaming at me to do different things.  First things first, I messaged Tommy back. 'Tommy, if those people call again, call the police.' was all I sent. I knew the surprise it would cause him, but I couldn't explain. It wasn't his issue to worry about. It was ten stressful minutes before I got a message back.
'Why?'
'I can't explain. Just trust me.'
'Alright. I'll see you at drama tomorrow'.
'Yeah, bye.' I signed off, and frowned softly. Things were going badly... And they were only going to get worse. I just didn't know it yet.