The Empty Ones

Chapter Six- A Family Affair

After an hour and a half of tracing the cracks on the ceiling, Harriat reached a tired hand into the bedside cabinet and withdrew a couple of pill bottles- sleep pills, a couple of anti-stress ones, vitamins. He pocketed them. In the second one was a thick, leather-bound book that took up nearly the entire drawer. He took it out, peeled it open.

Faces smiled at him. Bright eyes. Dimpled cheeks. There was a thick shouldered man with a square face and bark coloured eyes, and a dark haired, pale woman. There was a child in-between them, and at first he didn't recognize it as Hayes, because this child had soft, tidy hair. This child was smiling. This child looked just like every other child. Flipping through, he was greeted with more and more pictures of the happy, smiling family. In the park. At the beach. At a birthday party.

The door opened.

"Hugh-" Hayes said, stopped. She looked at the book as if it were going to reach out and bite her. "Don't touch that," she whispered. A dangerous whisper.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I-"

"Let go of it!"

He did.

"Get out!" she yelled, although it wasn't really a yell. It was somewhere between a screech and a wail. Thinking about those empty, blue eyes staring at him over the gun, he decided the best thing would probably be to obey. He scooped up Ernest and left, avoiding her eyes. They went down to the lounge, that prickling feeling eating away at his stomach, that kind he used to get after an argument with his brother or when the teacher yelled at him for slacking off. He didn't know if she meant 'get out' of the room, or 'get out' of the house, but he wasn't planning in leaving anytime soon. Not with what was waiting for him outside. He went out into the backyard, snapped some branches off the trees. There was an empty bin by the side of the house, he took it inside and found enough things to start a fire. He'd learned to do it when he was at that age where things like fire and destruction excited him and being able to control it was like being master of the universe. There was some bread in the pantry, and packaged cheese that was still good, and he found a pan under the stove. As the oil in the pan bubbled into life and dirty smoke spat into the air, Hayes came down the stairs.

"What are you doing?" she asked. She didn't sound happy, far from it, but she wasn't shouting, so that was something.

"Cheese'll go off soon," he said. "We should make the most of it."

"How did you do that? Make the fire."

"It's simple." He fished a sandwich out, put it on a plate and handed it to her.

She sniffed it, then ate hungrily, almost wildly.

Harriat laughed, and realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed. "Slow down."

She didn't.

"What have you been eating?" he asked quietly.

"Fruit. Chips. Whatever's in the pantry."

"There's some canned stuff in the top shelf. I'll cook you something tomorrow. You need some decent food in you." Tinned beans didn't exactly come under the category of 'decent food', but Harriat wasn't really sure there was such a thing anymore.

"Thanks," Hayes said to her feet.

He wanted to think he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart, but the better fed Hayes was, the happier she was. And the happier she was, the longer he had a roof over his head.

They were silent for a long moment, then Hayes asked quietly, "What are they?"

"I don't know."

"Why are they like...that? Is it an infection, or something?"