8) Mr Black and Mr Green

Artemis is interrogated, the villain is met, a bus is found, a kid is greeted.

8) Mr Black and Mr Green

“I think it’s best if I explain who Chloe is. Mostly for the sake of understanding.” I stare out the window. The clouds have stopped dancing. They linger in the sky. As if waiting to pounce.

I’m sat here in the cell. Dante crumpled on the floor. Me, thinking. And the more I think. The less I like it. All of it began with Chloe. The Chloe I dreamt of, that I dream of. The Chloe that I long to forget. The Chloe that I can’t forget. Chloe the one who held my heart and squeezed. The Chloe who began all of this; all the death, all the fear and confusion, all of it is down to her. I feel like it’s time to start writing my obituary. Why? I don’t know. Just feel like it.

My name is Artemis Kaliaski. I was born in Parlor Falls, England, on the 19^th of December 2002. My best friends are, in order of most to least. Chloe, Max, James, Ellie, Dante, Siobhan, Connor, Callum. Ellie was born in France; her parents are French. The rest of us were born and bred in Parlor Falls. Not the most amazing place. Just a, I don’t really know. Too big for a town, too small for a city. Whatever it was… is, it’s just outside London, close enough that most people work in London. Despite how close we lived to London, I’ve never actually been.

I was born in Parlor Falls, and I shall die in St. Louis, Missouri. And what a trip it has been. From being a child in England, to meeting Gods, to a jail cell in America. Doesn’t really sound great. The one thing I know for sure is that if I don’t die here, something bad is going to happen. Either today, or tomorrow, or in twelve years’ time. Something bad is coming.

“I thought you were going to tell me about Chloe?” Desk-Head says sceptically.
“Oh, right, yeah.” I take a deep breath, “Chloe was my best friend. That’s all you need.”

“Dude… now what?” Dante says quietly.
“We wait.”
“For what exactly? For magical strangers to come save us?” He spits venomously. I guess he’s right. Dawn and that other girl… seem to know stuff that we don’t. I would put money on them turning up in the next thirty minutes. I hope they turn up. Cause I honestly see no way of getting out of this. They have us dead to rights. I think? Good luck us. And future me, if you’re looking back on this, can you like time travel to now and tell me it all turns out okay? Please? As if on cue,
“Artemis?” A voice whispers, “Don’t speak, but if you can hear me, nod.” It says, which I eagerly do, “Ah, good. Now, we have a little surprise for you. In ten second, two officers are going to come in, just play dumb.” Then it goes quiet. Dante doesn’t seem to have heard the voice. Now the next question is where the f**k had it come from? I don’t get time to explore. The door grinds open, two officers step in.
“Artemis.” One says in a gruff monotone voice, “Come with us.”

I’m escorted, quite forcefully, through the station, through another set of doors and into a room with a desk and a chair. A mirror faces the chair. It must be a miracle. There’s no other reason, but the ball of light. My only way of sight, is following me. Just ahead of me.

“Wow. An interrogation, for what?” I ask aloud, knowing quite well that they can hear me. “Also, you forgot to take these off.” I say shaking my hands towards the mirror. “Would be quite nice if I could move.” I kick a chair out from under the desk. “Also, also, could I perhaps have a drink of water?” I ask directly to the mirror. No one enters the room carrying a glass of water. No one shouts at me; no one does anything. I sit there, handcuffed to the table, nothing to see, nothing to do. The handcuffs dig into my skin. A clock sit above the ‘mirror’ its second hand ticking by slowly. The minute hand twitches from place to place. The hour hand moves like a cat stalking its prey. I watch as the seconds tick by. And the minutes drift past. Before the hour is up the door opens. I hear it, I hear the handle creak, and the hinges croak. The door slips open. Nothing on the other side, just a picturesque plain white hallway. A cold breeze washes over me, and the door closes.
“Just a scare tactic.” I whisper to myself, not wanting to admit that I was a bit spooked. The door clicks shut with a sharp metallic ping, which echoes around the room.

When the door next opens several very formal looking people, two in suits and a third in a pencil skirt with a red shirt and black blazer accompany it. The woman sits next to me, places a briefcase on the table, and pops the latches. The two men, one in a green suit, the other in a black, they sit opposite me. They stare at me, as if daring me to speak first. I stare back.
“Artemis Kaliaski.” The man in the black suit says, his suit is complete with a black tie that squeezes against his neck.
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Before and at the café.” He says; I look at them blankly. “We know you were there, we have several eyewitnesses.”
“I’m not entirely sure what you want a blind person to say.” I reply sarcastically. The two suits look at each other. The woman produces a sheet of paper; I glimpse my name written at the top. The suits read it, and then they stare at me.
“Alright.” The man in the green suit says; he one wears a green tie that hangs loose around his neck.
“What did you hear?” Mr Black says,
“Shooting, lots of shouting and screaming.” I reply honestly.

The Shadow People are in the room with us. I say The Shadow People, but there’s only two, one behind each of the suits. They watch us peacefully and calmly. They don’t flinch. They don’t move. They stand like statues, watching us, hearing us.
“Where were you the 24^Th of May?”  tie asks. He doesn’t have a face. None of them do. They all just have dark masses where their faces should be. 24^Th of May? What month are we in?
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s today.” The woman whispers into my ear. The men stare at me. Their eyes examining my every move. They’re waiting for something.
“Where are we now…” I ask.
“St Louis, Missouri.” Mr Black replies.
“I was in St Louis, Missouri, on the 24^Th of May.” I say smugly. The suits look at each other and then at pencil skirt. They know something that they’re not telling me.
“What is your relationship with Dante Smith?” Mr Green picks up,
“He’s a friend.”
“When did you meet him,” He continues. I’m not entirely sure when.
“We grew up in the same town.”
“What town?” Black tie asks curiously,
“Parlor Falls.” As I say this, I see their faces shift. Both men go from stern to extremely stern.
“Oh.” Mr Green says softly. His face is the least stern; he has a baby face. I wonder how old he is. Twenty something? Good looking too. Too bad. I look at The Shadow Person stood behind him. It looks right back at me, right into my eyes. It nods. A small courteous nod. A nod to signify that it’s time.

The two Shadow People don’t look that scary. But as I watch them move, I realise, ‘Oh s**t. These b*****s aren’t friendly.’ And I’m right. These b*****s are not friendly. One of the Shadow People, the one behind Mr Green solidifies. Into a form. A giant white monster. The other Shadow Person doesn’t change. I don’t need to think about why. I know why. It’s presence sends a shiver through my entire body.

To me, it was quick. Like a jack in the box. However, Mr Black and Mr Green, they aren’t so lucky. Or are they luckier? They explode. Much like the man in the café, but more violently. The woman besides me screams. Can’t blame her. If my throat wasn’t clenched tight, I would’ve screamed too. Unfortunately, for her, screaming doesn’t help. I hear her bones snap. Every single one of them. I hear her body contort. I don’t dare look.

An explosion rips through the building. I feel its heat. But I don’t see it. Thank God. The Shadow flicks its hand at the handcuffs, and they click apart. Then it looks at the door, and it goes flying outwards, I hear it connect with something. The Shadow leaves, gesturing for me to follow it.

I step out onto the door, I dare not look what lies under it, I can already guess. And I wish I couldn’t. The Shadow leads me down corridors, through more doors, all of which it sends flying outwards. I follow it pathetically. It launches a set of doors outwards; they connect with a crunching sound. Again, I know what it hit, but I wish I don’t. It doesn’t even stop, it keeps on walking. Or floating. We walk down I corridor I swear I had seen before. We reach a set of doors. Blown outwards, resting gently on top of something. We pass through another set of doors. Down another corridor. To another set of doors, which are blown outwards, raised slightly on something. It doesn’t even pause. Through another set of doors, down a familiar looking corridor. It stops. It clicks its fingers and the walls around us crumble. The only walls to remain standing are the ones leading to the outside. With a shake of its head, it leads me towards the cells. One of which still contains Dante, He sits there on the floor, rocking back and forth. He lifts his head as I approach and just stares in disbelief. I glance through a window, and I see them. I see three sisters stood next to each other. I look through other windows, through each window I see someone. A man with blond hair. A man in a dark robe. A red haired and red-eyed woman. They surround the entire building. Each one just waiting.

We reach Dante. The Shadow walks past him and to a door, which it proceeds to send flying into the night. It gestures for me to follow it. I do, and Dante follows me.

We escape into the darkness. The Shadow disappears as quickly as it had appeared.

We run away from the building. We climb a hill. We turn and look. The building crackles, fire spews from everywhere, a bolt of lightning rips through the air smacking into the building. Bright flashes of light penetrate the darkness.
“What. The f**k is going on?” Dante asks, his voice trembling.

"I believe you do deserve an explanation." I look at Desk-Head who sits, finger poised, calmly, collected.

Desk-Head listens calmly as I tell the plot, they don't ask questions, or interrupt. When I’m done they lean back in their chair and let out a deep breath.

"And Dante?" Desk-Head asks.
"Simply a means to an end."
"Chloe?"
"Forever." This simple word sparks a response in The Shadow People. While the word drips from my mouth, they react, they shift their gaze from the rain-covered window, to me, and then to Desk-Head, then they stare at each other. I see their lips moving, I don't hear a noise. I trace my thumb over the ring; I feel the word etched into it. 'Chloe'.

"You know that feeling you get when you think you're being followed? The strange sense of foreboding and fear." I explain, "It's like that, but ten times worse. That's what living with The Shadow People is like, and there’s' nothing I can do to avoid them." I trail off. Explaining Them is a lot harder than I imagined. How do you explain the concept of dark entities that follow you constantly, rarely speak, but always seem to be listening? "It's like there's someone else in your head at all times; you aren't aware of them there, but you can sense that they are, like an odd tingling every now and then." I look at Dante. He stares blankly at me, I know he's trying to understand but he just can't grasp it. "Forget it" He reaches out and grabs my hand.
"No. I want to know." He squeezes my hand gently. "What are they doing now?"
"There's four watching the road, two on the left, two on the right. Four are watching around us." We sit in a bus shelter, waiting for the next bus, which doesn't arrive for another hour. What kind of bus station runs buses at three am?

We had walked, from the remnants of the police station, for miles, before we stumbled upon a bus shelter sitting idle by the side of the road. I don't know where we are, hell, I don't even know what state we're in.

The Shadow People had pointed out the bus shelter long before I saw it. They told me to head this way.

"They're just watching?"
"No. The four at the road are looking for the bus... and the others are looking for Gods."
"How can you be so calm after all this?" He asks weakly. Honestly, I don't know. I guess any other teen would be freaking the f**k out, but instead, all I can think about is how cold I am, and how warm Dante’s hand is on mine. No cars drive along the road. Nothing stirs. No birds, no crickets, no mice, no wind. Nothing. Just Dante and me. "You okay?" He say softly.
"Yes." I say, although I’m not quite sure if I sound it. I turn my hand around and interlock my fingers with Dante’s. He leans his head on my shoulder. We sit like that for a while, like two lovers waiting for a train in Paris, instead of two dishevelled teens waiting for a bus in the a*s of nowhere.

In the distance a pair of lights appear. They curve gently around the bend and glide towards us. It may have been my imagination, but I swear The Shadow People had to flag it down for it stop. But they can't have. No one can see them but me.
"S**t. Do you have any cash?" Dante whispers as the bus grinds to a halt.
"No." I pat my pockets with my free hand.
"F**k."
"Leave it to me." I say standing as the buses doors swing open.
"Where to? Be it Olympus or Hell, I can take you there." The driver says.
"As far from here as you can." I say staring at the overweight driver. His grey eyes look straight into my soul, the remains of his grey hair hang loosely from his head. He looks like he could have been ex-military if it weren't for all the fat.
"That'll be Santa Monica with a couple stops along the way." He says cheerily. How someone can be cheery driving a bus at three am is beyond me. As we turn to find a seat, a giant wobbling arm stretches out in front of us. "Payment."
"We hav-" Dante says glancing at me.
"Here." I shove my hand into my bag; I grope around until I feel the distinct gold coin against my fingers. I place the coin in the driver’s hand. He turns it over in his hands, inspects the decal.
"I haven't seen one of these in a long, long time. Where did you to say you were headed?"
"Santa Monica." I reply quickly.
"Alright. Sit back and relax, we'll be there in around sixteen hours, with plenty of stops. Toilets at the back. Full buffet down the stairs to the right. Beds up." He says gesturing wildly with his hand. As we settle into a couple of seats at the very back of the bus, Dante can't help but comment.
"Full buffet? Doubt he needs to eat anymore." He jests. The driver had recognised the coin, and full buffet... down stairs... on a bus... Again, it could just be my imagination but I swear to God that one of the seven Shadow People had been stopped by the driver and was only let on when it pointed towards me. The doors hiss shut, banging ominously in the quiet. Sixteen hours on a bus. Fun.

The bus passes the first couple of stops due to the lack of passengers, but as the sun starts to rise, the bus starts making stops. First an old lady, then a businessman, and so on and so forth.

By mid-day, the bus had accumulated twenty or so passengers and deposited them elsewhere. Now, the bus is empty again. The driver expertly weaves through inner city roads. I have no clue where we are, everything is so foreign and abstract. I’d fallen asleep at some point of the journey with my head against Dante’s shoulder.

Time moves rather quickly on the bus. The only sense of it moving is the growing pain in my stomach. Hours pass. The sun dips behind office buildings. 

The bus pulls up at an empty stop. He turns to the few occupants of the bus. "Got a school pick up in fifteen." Then he looked at me and Dante, "If you want something to eat, now would be a great time." I slip my hand out from Dante’s, and gently ease his head off my shoulder.
"We haven't got any money though." I say quietly to the driver.
"Take this." He produces the coin I had given, minus a small chunk. "Every time you successfully use it, a small chunk is taken to pay. Only certain places will accept it. You're lucky it was me driving. There's a store just across the road that accepts these." He says pointing.
"Thanks." I take the coin.

I walk briskly into the store. I grab us a couple sandwiches and bottles of water. As I approach the counter, I grow fearful of the coin, would it work? I don’t have long to think though, the shop’s quiet and there’s no queue.
"Twelve-ninety please." The cashier says. I hand the coin of gingerly. Just like the driver, he turns it over in his hands, inspects the decal. Then rips a small slither from it. "Thank you." It had worked, just like the driver said it would. "Stay safe." The cashier shouts as I reach the door.

Back at the bus stop, a group of kids have crowed around the stop.

As I reach the bus, the driver slides open the doors and a stampede of children, from year seven all the way to year thirteen board the bus. A couple of the smaller kids glance at the seat next to Dante. And to my surprise, I see a Shadow Person sat on it, and on the seats in front and behind. Once The Shadow Person in my seat sees me, it stands. I slip gently into the seat. The kids glance at the seats near us, give it a thought, and then decide against sitting in them. The kids pile on, filling the bus, with noise and smell. A Shadow Person stands in the middle of the walkway, and the kids filter around it.

As the last of the school kids swaggers out, the sun has started it's descent behind the hills.
"And we're away. Ten hours to go. The beds and the buffet are now open." The driver looks back at Dante and me. "I wasn't kidding about that stuff."
"Wouldn't be the weirdest thing I’ve seen." Dante says nudging me. We slip out of the seats, careful not to disturb the sleeping elderly lady in a seat towards the front. Apart from her and the driver, the bus is completely empty. As we reach the stairs, I get a strange feeling of peace, of tranquillity.
"What the f**k." Dante speaks my mind. The stairs go up. And down. "Aight. I take it back. This is the weirdest thing I’ve seen." He looks at me. "You go down?”
"Yeah. F**k no. I'm going up, to some place normal."
"I'll go down then, I guess."

At the top of the stairs, I can hardly believe my eyes. Weird isn't it, after all I’ve seen, a bus with beds takes my breath away. The driver wasn't lying, there really is beds up here. And so far he's two for three. So chances are there is a buffet downstairs. A lone figure on a bed catches my eye. The body shudders accompanied by a sniffle, and I realise that the body is crying. I also realise, the body is that of a young boy, no older than ten. I sit down next to him. I don't know what to do, he ain't my friends, my son, hell, I hadn’t even known he was on the bus, I don't even know what he is... I place my arm around him and pull him into an embrace. I'm not sure what it was like, a stranger, on a strange magical f*****g bus, hugs you. What the f**k do you do? You could what this kid did, and place your arms around the person and hug back. It’s comforting, having the arms of someone smaller and weaker wrapped around me. For the first time in a while, I feel safe. It’s like this hole in me that I hadn't noticed was there, is suddenly filled; and once it’s filled, I realise what I’ve been missing for years. I can’t hold it in. I rest my head on this little boy’s. A tear rolls down my cheek. The world I’d grown up in, the one with Chloe, with James and Max, with Ellie. That world no longer exists, I hadn't really thought about it since I woke. But now, it's all there, memories of us laughing, memories of Chloe smiling. Memories of Max and James viscously fighting, even though they were twins. Of Ellie just sat there, watching and laughing. God. Of Chloe’s' laugh, of her beautiful smile, of the jokes she would tell. The tears drip from my cheeks.
"Cascading like a waterfall." I mumble to no one in particular. It makes it worse, realising I’m crying. I've met gods, I’ve died. And now I’m crying over nothing. I look out the window; resting my chin on the kids head, I try to smile. I kiss him on the head. If I had a brother, I would've wanted something like this.

As the buildings of the city slip into the distance, the kid slips his head out, and takes his first look at this weird stranger who had hugged him, who is also in tears. What he sees isn't really much of a surprise. A basic face. Eyebrows, blond hair, blue eyes, ears. The true surprise is what those eyes hide. He can see it straight away. Those pale blue eyes hide a nasty secret.

The kid slips his head out and stares at me. His brown eyes a deep red. A giant bruise surrounds one and drips down his cheek, before eventually meeting a gash across his lip. I stare at him, unsure of what to do. He’s barley ten, and someone had the audacity to do this.
"Who did this?" I say, running my hands through his hair and pulling his head to my chest. The boy doesn't speak. A new barrage of tears escape, not for lost friends, but for a boy I had met less than ten minutes ago. I gently pull his face away and look at it. It isn’t just a bruise.

From his right eyebrow stretches a giant slash reaching all the way to the left, a giant black bruise occupies the temple and the surrounding eye, along the cheek, and down to a gash stretching across his lip to his chin. I'm not a doctor, but I wouldn't be surprised if the eye socket is broken, or at best dented.

I don't know how much the kid saw. My bag, which I had left downstairs, is suddenly by my feet. I don’t even need to look to know who had brought it up. I could sense them. I pluck my bag from the floor. I slip the ball of water from it. The kid stares at it mystified. I cup my hand and reach into the ball; I pull out a smaller ball of water. I smear it across the boy’s forehead, he doesn't even flinch. Right before my eyes, the giant slash, that would have needed stitches, begins to knit itself back together. I repeat the steps, pull out a smaller ball of water, and smear it across the cuts, watching in disbelief. I do this until the water is gone, and the kids face has returned to its normality.

The boy looks at this strange person, and he watches as a shadowy figure appears behind them along with a bag, places it at the foot of the stranger, and disappears with a smile. And then in a moment that could have been taken directly from a sci-fi, the stranger pulls a ball of water from the bag. Then proceeds to smear it on his face. If it wasn’t for the utter disbelief and shock, he would probably have been in a lot of pain as his skin knits back together, as broken bone knits itself back together.

Once the cuts are gone. I see it in his eyes. I know instantly who’d done this. Maybe I always had. Now, I see it in his eyes. I know.
"Who did this?"

Could the boy trust this magical stranger? Six hours ago, he had boarded a bus with one story, and then found it had a floor dedicated to beds, and now a stranger with a magical ball of water and a shadow had just healed him. His life had been shattered. He had nowhere to go, and no one to go to. What did he have to lose?

I storm down the stairs; I stride purposefully towards the driver.
"We need to make a stop." I demand.
"No stops until Monica, sorry."
"We need to make a stop." And this time he looks at me.
"Alright, one stop."

I sprint out the bus. I'm across the road by the time Dante steps out.
"Artemis? What's going on?"
"Get back in that f*****g bus." I whirl around.
"What's going on?" He repeats.
"Get back in f*****g bus. Now!" I glower at him. Sheepishly he obeys.

I reach the door. What do I do? Do I kick it in? Sneak in? I take a step back and survey the house, looking for a way in. No luck. I climb over the gate and walk around the back. A small window hangs slightly open. Just enough.

I pull the window open. I climb through. The darkness that greats me is like family. I feel it breathe deeply as I enter; I feel its arms wrap themselves around me.

I make a quick stop at the kitchen. Not that I need anything. I have what I need in my pocket. I feel it pressing it against me.

I look around for a sign of where to go. 

The Shadow People watch as Artemis pads gently through the kitchen and into the lounge. Of course they know what’s going to happen. They had known this was coming for a while. However, Artemis does not; they have no clue what’s coming. The Shadow People trail Artemis up the stairs, down a corridor, and stop at a door.

The door stands, rather weakly. It knows that nothing will stop me. I slip the item out of my pocket; I feel its handle fit perfectly into my hand. I slowly open the door. The moon shines through a small opening in the curtains. I see what’s in the bed. Hell. I know its name. It doesn't deserve it though. I stand at the end of the bed. Can I do this?

Before I have the time to answer, a voice answers for me.
"What the f**k? Who the f**k? How'd the f**k you get in?" A surprised voice whimpers.

The Shadow People watch as the man sits up, he can't see Artemis, but he can see the glint of silver in the moonlight. Artemis steps forward into the light.
"What the f**k do you want? If Frank sent you, scamper back to that c**k sucker and tell him to f**k off." He looks at me. "What the f**k? How old are you? Jesus, Frank’s getting kids to do his work now." The man doesn't seem scared. "Alright, you've had your fun, now f**k off."
"I ain't going anywhere." I don't know what the man sees or what changes, but the colour drains from his face.
"Oh God. Please no."

The kid sits on the bus. He watches through the window as the stranger storms across the road and towards a house. He knows what they’re going to do. He'd thought about doing it plenty of times, but he never could. He smiles.

I gently close the door. As I reach the stairs a small whimper distracts me. I back-track a couple of steps, and ease open a door. Two girls sit huddled on the floor, the eldest glowers at me, a spark of anger flourishes in her eyes, and then it dims, and tears spring from her eyes. The door clicks shut behind me. The sounds of the night embraces me. It hugs me. I step out onto the street. A light flickers above me. I walk back to the bus.
"Alright, I'm done." I say to The Driver.
“Righty-ho.” He says cheerfully. The doors squeak shut.

The kid watches as the stranger sits down opposite him. They wipe something with a cloth. He doesn’t need to see what it is. He can guess.