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CHAPTER ELEVEN - HATEFUL STRANGER


Rings of fire surrounded him. He could feel the heat from the blaze and his skin burnt and withered away in a boiling wave of agony that tore at his flesh.

He tried to move. He tried to scream for help, but the cloying smoke stuck to his mouth and coated his lungs with filthy, sooty fingers. Everything was beginning to turn black and the angry, orange flames were replaced with a bright darkness that stung his sealed eyes.

Suddenly arms were wrapping about his frail body and shielding him from the flames that licked and slobbered over him.

“B? BB?”

He gasped as a cold hand pressed against his clammy, hot skin and he whimpered at the strange pain it induced that tingled through his skin.

“B come on, wake up!”

The voice wrapped tendrils about him and he was dragged away from the flaming wreck of the ruined village, but he could still feel the heat as it enflamed his body. He could feel the flames tearing at him, burning and destroying his pink skin.

A deeper coldness was pressed against his face, but it was too icy and too cold compared to the burning of his head that seemed to even penetrate into his mind. His eyes flung open in a spasm of pain and he squealed as cold drops of water slid down his hot face.

“B, wake up!” a voice screamed at him frantically.

B slowly dragged his eyes open again, finding himself not in the burning village that had once been his home, but a brightly lit room that only served to hurt him even more. He gasped as he felt his chest contorting in discomfort and he fought to take in oxygen to relieve the burning of his lungs as he coughed and choked.

“B! B, look at me!”

Now cold hands were gripping his face and fingers pressed into his skin. His eyes flickered open again and a thousand colours swirled about him in dizzying hues that distorted everything into a wild mess.

“Can you hear me?”

The voice was too loud and seared straight into his pounding skull to smack his brain hard. He wanted to reply, but his mouth was dry and his tongue fat and bloated. He could only manage a stumbling croak, and even that was a pathetic attempt.

He closed his eyes to allow the warm, comforting darkness to envelop him and protect him from the harsh lights, but his head was still hot and his hair stuck to it with the sticky sweat that dribbled down his cheeks. He breathed deeply, the air harsh on his dry throat and he whimpered again in discomfort.

“B, B!” a voice said forcefully as hands pressed against his face.

B opened his eyes again and a pink face rippled in front of him before it formed someone half recognisable. “D – dad?” he asked as he tried to force the overwhelming nausea back down his throat and to the pit of his churning stomach.

Brian stroked his face soothingly as tears ran down his pale cheeks. “B, thank God… I thought you’d never wake.” He bowed his head as if in a silent prayer while B’s eyes struggled to focus in the bright light of the room.

“I don’t feel very well,” B murmured, each word was difficult to form and only hurt his irritated throat even more. He coughed again, moaning at the soreness of his throat.

“You don’t look well and I’ve been trying to wake you for the last ten minutes! You were screaming in your sleep,” Brian whispered as he wiped a cold, damp cloth over his face.

B sighed slightly as the coolness served to alleviate some of the burning pain, but at the same time he shivered at the iciness of the water. He coughed again and jerked as the coughs forced him to sit up in bed, heaving for more oxygen.

Brian seized the glass from the bedside table, which he had placed there last night in case B wanted a drink, and slowly handed it to him but B’s fingers were weak and trembling. He barely had the energy to hold the glass in his clammy hands. Brian gently held the glass to his lips and B felt more like a baby than a teenager as he obediently accepted the dribbled drops of water.

Finally the violent coughing seemed to subside and B returned his head to the comforting softness of the pillows while Brian rubbed his face with the cold cloth again to wipe away the sweat.

“I think is should get you a doctor,” Brian said, sniffing as he placed the cloth into a bowl of water. “You’re burning up.”

“Dad, no,” B replied faintly. “I’ll be all right.” Painfully he struggled to sit up a little, wanting to show that he wasn’t as weak and pathetic as he seemed. His head spun slightly and as he sneezed he felt everything erupt inside of him in a burst of agony.

“B, you’re sick and you need help.”

“I’ve just got flu,” B said stubbornly. “You can’t take me to a doctor and you know you can’t.” There was nothing here that could help him and the only cure seemed to be to stay in bed and hope.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you!” Brian cried, his voice bordering on frantic as he realised that there was little he could do to help his suffering son.

B was a little unnerved himself. He had been fine yesterday. He had felt normal as he had sat upon the couch with Brian watching DVDs upon the huge television screen, which had been a delight for B as he watched the people rushing about the screen. He had even been fine when he had gone to bed last night, but now… it was totally different. There had been the distant headache, the faint sickness and the constant coughs or sneezes before, but it had felt nothing like this. Now it was painful… But already it was beginning to dissipate, although his head still felt strangely hot.

“It’s flu. I’m not lucky enough to avoid getting it after being out in the rain and the cold,” B whispered thinking of the dreadful time he had spent roaming the streets while the freezing ice of cold attacked every piece of his body.

“You don’t look well at all,” Brian commented as he pressed the palm of his hand on B’s forehead.

“I just need rest, I already feel a little better. I was having a nightmare about my village when it was attacked,” B confessed as he shivered beneath the blankets. He lie down and pulled the blanket about him as he coughed slightly again. Even now he could still feel the heat from the fire as the Gerai burnt it.

“Maybe that explains the fever,” Brian said softly as he touched B’s head, frowning at the heat he felt there. “I think you’ve got pneumonia.”

“I think it’s flu. Sammy had it last week and seeing as we share the same room, it’s quite likely I caught it from him,” B said.

“I’m not sure though, I’m no doctor.”

“I can’t have a doctor.”

“How about I just go down the pharmacy and get some medicine for you?” Brian suggested. “It might help that cough at least.”

He wanted to do something, B realised. He wanted to do something that would help him, but B really didn’t like the idea of being left alone. Anybody could be watching the house and anybody could be looking for him right at this moment. He didn’t want to fall into the hands of the Gerai…

“Don’t leave me here alone,” B begged, thinking of how vulnerable he was to anybody out there hunting him.

“B, I can’t just sit here and watch you suffer. I won’t be long and I’ll lock the doors and I can put the alarm on if you want,” Brian said. “B, you’re really not well at all.”

B still wasn’t convinced. He felt safe with Brian and he didn’t want that safety to disappear. “I’ll live,” he croaked.

“B, I’ve got to go,” Brian said gently. “I’ll get you some cough medicine and ask about what to do with a fever. While I’m out, I’ll pick you up some new clothes at the store. I don’t think my stuff fits you well.”

“I’m fine in these,” B protested, staring down at Brian’s slightly baggy clothes upon him. He didn’t want to be left alone for any longer than was absolutely necessary.

“I won’t be long and I’d rather go today than in a few days time which would give people the time they needed to find us. If that ever happens then I want to be here,” Brian promised. “You really think I’m gonna leave you alone for any dangerous amount of time?

“I don’t want you to go.”

“You’ll be fine and I won’t be long. You haven’t been here long so I doubt the Gerai will even know where you are yet, if they’re even here.”

But they were, and B knew it. They weren’t going to let him slip away from that easily. He may have seemed paranoid but he had good reason. If only Brian had seen the drastic measures they would go to capture B and the computer chip in his arm. His entire village had been burnt to the ground because of it.

Brian kissed him tenderly on the head and pulled the duvet over him. “I won’t be long. I just want to look after you.”

B watched him go and shuddered as the door to the room closed, leaving him alone. Tentatively he listened as he heard the beeping as Brian set the alarm and the front door close. He snuffled slightly and wiped his nose on a tissue, but the movement only served to make him dizzier than before. He snuggled back down under the blankets but he felt sicker than before as he thought about how easy a prey he was now for any Gerai stalkers. Tyke wasn’t big enough to protect him and B was too sick to fight anybody off again. He almost hadn’t managed it the first time. He pressed his hand to his bandaged arm as he remembered how the Gerai had pulled a knife out as B viciously kicked and punched, desperate to drive him away. The knife had soon put an end to any fighting and B had decided to run instead.

He listened to his beating heart, each pound echoing in his aching head and causing him more pain than ever, but the worst was the fear of being alone. Anything could happen in the short time that Brian was gone…


* * * * * * * * * *


Brian hurried out of the pharmacy, clasping the precious bag of medicine to his chest. B had looked too sickly to just stand by and do nothing. One of these had to help him somehow and get rid of that awful cough that plagued him.

After having quizzed the pharmacist about B’s symptoms (probably flu or a very slight case of pneumonia, but only slight) he had reassured himself that it wasn’t dangerous, especially at B’s vigorous age. The most important thing was to keep him in bed and keep him warm but if he got worse than Brian would have to take him to the doctor’s. He’d have to think of something to avoid too many questions but he prayed that B’s condition wasn’t serious enough to lead to that.

He had bought everything that he had been advised to, although he suspected that B would probably refuse to swallow anything remotely medical, but one of them had to help him. He should have expected some signs of illness after his ordeal on the streets. He had looked terrible when Brian first found him on the doorstep and the paleness of his face still frightened him now. Without Nick, he really could believe that B would have died that night in the storm.

He glanced down at his watch and then across at the tiny clothes store he sometimes bought a few bits from. He’d made very good time and it wouldn’t take him ten minutes to pick out a few t-shirts and things for B. He dashed towards the door and took a second to survey the items before he picked up a few jerseys, careful to pick a smaller size than normal so that it would fit B. He didn’t bother trying to choose between different styles, as he didn’t want to waste time, which would lead B to be alone longer than he had promised. He chose everything in blues or neutral colours, deciding that he didn’t know what B liked so there was no point in trying to pick his favourite colours. It stung him a little though as he thought about it, what kind of father didn’t know about his son’s likes or dislikes? He’d spent so little time with B and now that he thought about it, he hardly knew anything about him. He’d have to make sure he found out everything before he left… but God did Brian hope that he wouldn’t leave for a while yet.

He grabbed a few coloured t-shirts from a pile on a table and then turned to the rail of pants and jeans. This would be a little harder… he had no idea what size B was or how long he needed them.

Seeing as he didn’t need to be fussy with the money, he picked the two most likely sizes and seized about three pairs for each. One of them had to be right which would give B at least three pairs.

He paid for everything and then struggled to carry the huge bags out of the store and to the car lot. He really had made good time and B wouldn’t have been alone for more than three quarters of an hour by the time he actually returned home.

Careful to avoid eye contact with anybody in case they recognised him through the baseball cap and sunglasses, he kept his head down and was almost running to his car, desperate not to have B upset or worried for too long.

He fumbled with the keys from his pocket and yanked the door open to throw everything onto the back seat. He cursed under his breath as he found that one of he plastic carrier bag handles had managed to tangle it’s way around his watchstrap. He tore it away in irritation and tossed the clothes bag atop the others before slamming the door shut, keeping B’s medicine tucked safely under his arm.

He turned for a second, not quite sure why he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to look about him. He surveyed the car lot through the dark sunglasses he wore to conceal his own distinct, blue eyes that always gave him away and then he saw him.

Why he knew it was a ‘him’ was unclear, but somehow he knew in his heart that this person was different to everybody else. It was almost like he knew them for a brief second…

They were standing at the far end of the car lot and too far away for Brian to recognise or even determine the sex on anything more than instinct.

He froze as if the gaze from the stranger had wrapped a paralysing rope about him that crushed every joint in his body. His fingers seemed to instinctively curl themselves into fists and he felt a strong sense of uneasiness and dislike leaking into him as if he was drawing these emotions from the watcher.

They were wearing a black, long cloak. It wasn’t a dress because he could sense it was a male and it stretched down to the floor almost. A hood or a hat covered their hair and Brian was too far away to see any facial features.

Why did he suddenly feel a cold wind on his neck as if death was watching him? He could feel the goose bumps prickling up over his skin and he felt strangely cold and drained. His eyes narrowed in hostility and he could almost feel their eyes meeting across the vast expanse of concrete and parked vehicles.

A shudder flowed through him and then the spell seemed to be broken as an image of B flickered into Brian’s mind. He shook his head and glanced down at the keys in his hand before looking up at the stranger again. This person was linked to B, he knew that somehow and he didn’t like it. B was his. He did not belong that creature over there.

B. He shivered again and then his body went numb to every bone. What if that person had already been to his house? He viciously tore at the front car door and scrabbled to clamber inside. He jammed the key into the ignition and turned it to receive a growl from the engine. He glanced in the mirror but there was no sign of the cloaked man. He turned his head to stare out of the window but there was no one there, only the usual people he saw when hew as out.

He was still for a second, reflecting on the strange, possessive feelings that had struck his body when he saw that man. He wasn’t used to such passionate or violent emotions and he had never before experienced hatred at first sight. But he was certain that’s what it had been: hatred. The other man had felt it too, Brian knew that as well. In that second, they had both made an enemy.

Brian closed his eyes and he felt his skin ripple under an unpleasant shudder. He had to get back to B. He had to get to him quickly. That man was here for him, Brian had felt it in his blood as it chilled his veins.

He had to get back before the stranger did. He should never have left B alone in the first place.



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