Page 36 of Apathy
The entire side of the pub was covered with windows, and I could see the river surrounded by trees. The balcony on that side was mainly empty, sans the one lone figure I saw entering the pub earlier. The cigarette he had between his lips lit up as he flicked the lighter in his hand, and he started looking over the edge of the balcony, toward the river.
I had never seen him before, but something told me that this was my guy.
I nodded at the bartender as I crossed past the bar and between the tables, heading directly to the balcony. The stranger pushed the hoodie off his head, revealing the dark hair—longer on the top and cut short on the sides—and the array of tattoos peeking through his collar. He looked around until his eyes landed on me, and his lips pulled at the side, in what he probably thought was a smile.
I’ve seen scary people in my life, angry people, but I had never met anybody like him.
As I exited through the glass door, leading to the balcony, my face was hit by the wind that was colder than on the other side. I pulled the collar of my coat higher, trying to shield myself from the cold, while he stared at me. I wasn’t fazed by a lot of things, and people often told me that I looked like I didn’t give a shit about anything—and I mostly didn’t—but this guy looked like he could eat me for breakfast, and just continue with his day as if nothing happened.
“Are you Lars?” I asked as soon as I stepped closer to him. The cigarette he lit earlier dangled from his fingers as he leaned back, staring at me.
“Maybe,” he answered with a cold expression on his face, pulling another drag of the cigarette. “Are you the Crow?”
I pulled the chair opposite of him and sat down. “Maybe. You don’t look like somebody called Lars.” I smirked and took the packet of cigarettes in front of him, opened it, and pulled one out.
“I don’t?” He grinned as I lit up the lighter and placed the tip of the cigarette on fire, letting the smoke coat my insides with one inhale.
“No,” I answered through the cloud of smoke I exhaled. “You definitely don’t.”
He kept looking at me, unmoving, studying me. I always hated when people did that. Skylar did that as well. She kept staring at people, trying to read them, to gauge their reactions. I bet it pissed her off when she couldn’t see past the mask I chose to wear.
“I like you, kid.” He laughed and extinguished the cigarette, only halfway done. “I’m Indigo.”
He removed the zipped hoodie he had on, revealing a cut with an emblem I saw once before, when we were moving from San Francisco to Orlando.
Sons of Hades.
We all heard the stories about them. The gruesome tales used to scare the kids at night. They were a walking nightmare, and he was here, meeting with me. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this at all.
“Relax, kid.” He chuckled. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I cleared my throat and leaned back, still looking at the emblem. “I’ve heard of you guys.”
“Oh, really?” His eyebrows shot up. “Then I can assure you that whatever you’ve heard,” he leaned toward me, “the truth is ten times worse.”
For the first time since we came here, I was scared.
Six months ago, a guy named Lars contacted us, offering to help us execute our plan. We never met him, never learned his last name or where he came from, but he had information on The Order that no one else did. After careful consideration, we decided to go with it, and to let him feed us the information we were missing.
For example, every twenty or so years, The Order had to choose a new leader, a new high priest, and for that to happen, the sacrifices had to be made. It bothered me that we didn’t know his real identity, but everything he told us was true.
“Right,” I mumbled. “I’m sure you have better things to do. I was told you would have information for us. Well, Lars said—”
“Yeah, I know what Lars said, but I’m not exactly sure if you would want to know this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he looked around us as if he expected someone to be listening, “some things should be left alone. Some things should be handled by adults, kid. And some—”
“First of all,” I interrupted. “I was never a kid. They didn’t give me a chance to be a kid. Do you know what it feels like to lose everything you loved?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. I also know that look in your eyes, because I’ve seen it before on someone very close to me. And do you know where he is now?” His eyes narrowed at me. “In the fucking hospital, fighting for his life, because he was too reckless, too blinded by revenge, that he didn’t plan shit properly. So, I’m gonna ask you only once. Did you think this through with a cool head, or are you going to end up getting killed in the process?”
He took a mouthful of water, all the while looking at me. He wanted to know if I was reckless, if this plan wasn’t going to end up with me six feet under. Truth be told, I didn’t know.
I had no idea if getting close to them wouldn’t end up with me in a body bag, failing to fulfill what I had promised. But I did know that I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I didn’t see this through. I knew that if it wasn’t for these people, for this town, I would have had a happy childhood, or at least, a childhood with both of my parents alive.
I wouldn’t have this constant burden on my shoulders, this constant pain in my gut, and the scars on my back if it wasn’t for them. Maybe I was too reckless.
