Chapter 5 - Lost and Found

Lynn forced herself to go to class the next morning. Her acquaintances asked where she had been, and she had lied. It hadn't been hard; she was fairly practiced at it, and they didn't know her well enough to catch her at it. Her mind was filled with Jared, Bridget and the boy’s furious turquoise eyes. Those eyes seemed to trigger something inside of her that she couldn’t quite grasp. When she got home, Jared was gone again, to her relief. It was still light out, so she wandered around her house, wraith-like in her impatience and mourning. Little things set her off, like her mother’s apron hanging in the closet, or the half-finished load of laundry in the back room. She knew she needed to get out of the house, so she did, wanting to walk again. She made sure to be alert this time, lest Jared catch her off-guard and ‘trying to run away’ again. The air was crisp and refreshing, bordering on downright cold. It smelled of fireplaces, leaves, and… blood. 

Lynn stopped mid-step, inhaling sharply. It wasn’t even a subtle, rusty undertone on the breeze; it was a hard, metallic burn that assaulted her sinuses. Sneezing, her mind latched onto the scent and she followed it, much as a cartoon character would float after a white wave of smell with an oversized nose raised in the air. It took her off the sidewalk and into the lawns of her neighbors, eventually into a backyard where it was the strongest. She surreptitiously crept across the lawn to the shed there. Splatters of blood decorated the warped wooden door and a handprint was smeared over the doorknob. She didn’t want to test the knob because of the blood, but she could tell it was locked by looking in the keyhole. She went to the grimy window and peered inside. It was very dim inside, but she could still make out a dark, huddled shape. It was moving slightly, and Lynn could smell the blood inside. She rapped her knuckles on the glass and saw the shape jump. Two flashing eyes suddenly peered at her in the dark.

Lynn’s hands were covered in blood and shaking minutely. The guy was sitting on her bathroom floor, winding bandages and gauze around his midsection. The wound looked like a huge animal had slashed its claws across his ribs, and he had told her that it had been a strange pronged weapon. She could believe that rather easily, and looking at the irritated flesh made her stomach queasy. The skin around the wound was angry and red. Lynn had insisted on slathering him with an entire tube of antibacterial cream, even though she knew it wouldn’t help all that much. The infection was inside now, not just on the skin.

“You need to go to the hospital.” Lynn muttered for the umpteenth time.

“I told you, I can’t.” he snapped, coughing and securing the bandage with three butterfly clips.

“You need antibiotics!” Lynn retorted. “I can’t just get some from a drug store, y’know!”

“Do you think they’re just gonna let me leave after figuring out who I am and what happened to me?” he snarled.

“Who are you?” Lynn demanded.

“They might make a connection between me and my dead parents.” He hissed, partially to himself, cinching two more butterfly clips to the bandages. “Then he’ll find me and then he’ll kill me.” He pulled himself upright using the sink and hobbled to Lynn, who was blocking the door. “Move.” Lynn crossed her arms over her chest and planted her feet.

“He won’t be home for a while. “She lied angrily. She had no idea when he was coming home, but she was moderately sure that he wouldn’t be home in the next few days. Maybe. “Days, even. If you go back outside, you’re going to get even worse!” he attempted to interrupt her by pushing her aside, but he swung wildly to the left and instead fell on her. She struggled to keep them standing until he regained his balance. Then she shoved him back, taking grim satisfaction in the way he staggered.

“Don’t be stupid.” Lynn snapped, crossing her arms again. She realized she had covered her shirt and the man’s bandages with bloody handprints and forced her hands to her sides. He stared at her wonderingly.

“You’re a strange person.” He muttered rudely, sinking back to the bathroom floor in a more controlled way. “Who are you?” Lynn wanted to assume the identity of a tough, no-bullshit heroine, but there was blood on her hands and she was still scared, if stubborn. Instead of interrogating him in return, she answered with her name. “I’m Matt.” Lynn nodded in greeting. They gazed awkwardly around the bathroom, now lacking a reason to bicker. Lynn decided that the best place would be the small couch in the room by the front door.

“And if he comes in, I’ll have half a second to run.” Matt objected furiously.

“He never comes in the front door.” Lynn replied snappishly. “He doesn’t even carry his house keys anymore. The garage has an outside code lock.” Matt looked hesitant, but Lynn stood her ground. “Besides, if you can get onto my roof while hurt like that, I think you can handle it, right?” Matt looked away from her, and she frowned.

“It’s not that simple,” he murmured.

“How did you do it, anyway?” she prodded quickly, hoping to surprise or anger him into answering. “I mean, I have a way up to the roof, and it’s a short climb, but from the ground, I think-“

“Don’t get yourself involved!” Matt barked. Lynn recoiled slightly.

“He’s my dad!” Lynn retorted quietly. “I, maybe as much as you, want him-“ with a speed Lynn had thought impossible for a healthy human, Matt leapt up and shoved her to the side. She managed to grab his arm and he wheeled on her. A low, feline growl erupted from him, and his turquoise eyes were now tinged a green that filled in the sclera around the irises, the pupils gray/black slits. He leaned close enough so that his eyes and snarling teeth, now weirdly pointed, filled her vision for a fraction of a second. A small cry of alarm and fear escaped her.

“Don’t.” he hissed. Lynn snatched her arm from him and he stormed out as best he could. Lynn’s eyes were wide and frightened, and she stood there without moving for some time. There he goes again... I knew he wasn’t completely normal, she thought, rubbing her arms. I knew it, and I was right.