WHAT DID I JUST SAY IN THE LAST TAGS ABOUT YOU GETTING HURT?!

Fault 10-06 (Summus Proelium)

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I was going to have to handle this myself. I wasn’t going to let anyone else get hurt because of my situation. This whole thing came from my family, so I sure as hell wasn’t going to drag anyone else into it. Seeing poor Eits lying there on that bed in that condition had been the wake-up call that I needed. I couldn’t let other people end up in that same situation just because they wanted to help me. Whatever came next, I would have to sink or swim on my own.  

Maybe it was stupid to go off by myself like that. But at that moment, I wasn’t thinking about the danger to myself. I was just thinking about avoiding putting anyone else I cared about in a hospital bed. The thought of Pack, or That-A-Way, or anyone else being hurt the way that Eits had been just about destroyed me. Hell, the memory of what Eits himself had looked like lying there did that all on its own. So no, I couldn’t involve anyone else in this. Not this time. 

What I could do was check out the address the boy had apparently found. Which didn’t help me deal with the men who had attacked him, but their time would come later. I promised myself that. No, this had to be the address of Robert Parson, my old driver and sort-of babysitter when I’d been younger. 

And that was just confusing in and of itself. Why would a bunch of guys jump Eits and hurt him that badly just for looking up the address of this guy? According to Pack,  they’d been looking for the same address. So they didn’t have it either. Did that mean they were enemies of my family? Or was Robert himself an enemy now and that was why he’d stopped being my driver? He was involved in some way with the death of that Anthony kid and his parents, because he’d been in the car with them. So… what then? How was he involved? Which side was he on? Were the guys who were looking for him and had attacked Eits on my family’s side? Or were they attacking my family? Had Robert been involved in killing Anthony and his parents, with the car accident as a cover-up? Why was the name Anthony Tate so familiar to me? What the hell was going on? So many questions, and right now the only actual lead I had was this address. 

All those thoughts were rushing through my head in a jumbled mess while I made my way north, toward the address on the paper. A quick double-check had confirmed my first impression. The address was a house just a few blocks northeast of the zoo. I had used my Maps app to get a look at it. The place just looked like an ordinary, if upscale, three-story Victorian house with a detached garage in the corner of the lot. The lawn had looked well cared for in the satellite image, and there was a tall wrought-iron fence around the property. No cars had been in the driveway, but that didn’t mean anything, considering they could be in that garage. Besides, the photo could have been taken at any time. The only thing I really knew for sure was that I didn’t recognize the house itself from any other trip. Of course, given the fact that my memory had apparently been tampered with by Mr. Jackson, that didn’t mean anything either.  

I didn’t go straight to the house, no matter how much my anger and frustration about what had happened to Eits was driving me to be reckless. Instead, I stopped at the nearest office building in the neighborhood, the tallest structure around. Perched on the edge of the roof there, I scanned the neighborhood until I saw the house in question a couple blocks away.  There was still no visible vehicles, and the lawn looked worse than it had in the picture. It needed to be cut pretty badly, there were visible weeds, and the once-thriving flower garden up near the house hadn’t been tended to in what looked like a pretty long time. Despite those signs that it was abandoned, however, someone had to be there. Because there was a dog trotting around the front yard and it didn’t appear to be starving or anything. At least, not from this distance. And I was pretty sure any place that had been left for as long as it would take things to overgrow as much as they were would have had someone pick up the dog by now. No, it seemed like there was someone living there. They just weren’t taking care of the place anymore for whatever reason. Maybe they couldn’t take care of it. Or didn’t care enough now. Whether that someone was Robert Parson or someone who knew where he was, I was going to find out. And I was also definitely going to find out just what he had to do with the people who had attacked Eits. 

Still, I didn’t want to rush into things and end up doing nothing but making things worse. So, I sat there on the edge of that roof and watched the house for what had to be twenty minutes. Every second that passed, I wanted to go right in there. I wanted to do something useful. I wanted to stop closing my eyes and seeing Eits lying there on the bed. I wanted to distract myself from that horrific guilt that kept eating me up inside. But I waited. I watched, just to make absolutely certain that the house was as clear as it could be and that this wasn’t actually some kind of trap. 

Finally, I couldn’t wait anymore. I had to make my move. Taking a breath, I leapt from the roof of the building with the aid of a blue launch puddle. A shot of red toward the chimney of the next house over carried me there, and I landed lightly before throwing myself up once more. A guy walking his dog jerked in surprise as soon as he saw me, and I heard him blurt something (but didn’t catch what he actually said) just before I jumped away. Using a couple more houses to jump off of, I brought myself around toward the enclosed back yard of the address in question. 

It was quiet back here too. Staying low and silent, I watched the windows of the house. Nothing. The backdoor was closed, and there was no sign of anyone inside. I couldn’t hear the dog in the front yard. From what I’d seen when watching this place, the animal was stuck there and couldn’t get around to the back where I was. Hopefully, they wouldn’t smell or hear me and start barking their head off. That would be a good way to end up spoiling the fact that I was here. 

Just like I had from the roof of the other building, I remained still instead of rushing in. Watching the back of the house as patiently as possible given the situation turned out to be the right choice, because after a minute or two, I spotted the camera in the top left corner of the back patio. It was aimed inward, watching the door and windows. Then I spotted another one, aimed out toward the yard. Somehow, I’d managed to put myself far enough into the corner that I was pretty sure it didn’t see me. The way the camera was pointed, it had to take in most of the yard. 

Then I saw another camera. That one was at the corner of the house, pointed up through the space leading to the front yard. And sure enough, there was a fourth one at the other end. 

Right, I didn’t know much about Robert or whoever actually lived here. But I was pretty sure they were just a bit paranoid. Whether that was for good reason or not remained to be seen, though the fact that people had attacked Eits like that trying to get this address made it likely.

Okay, so what now? I needed to get in the house. Or at least talk to the person in there. But could I do that without the whole situation turning into a massive clusterfuck? Should I try to sneak in and check things out, or knock on the door? Should I stand in front of the camera? How would the person or people inside (if anyone was home right now) react if I just showed myself like that and asked to talk? And if they did talk, what would I even say to them? 

That was something I unfortunately hadn’t considered too much. What was I supposed to say had led me here? Could I just say that I’d been looking into Paige Banners, which led me to this Anthony Tate kid, and then to the only survivor of that car accident down in Texas? 

I was frozen like that for the moment, trying to decide what I should actually do. I couldn’t tell the whole truth, that was for damn sure. I also couldn’t let on that I knew… well, anything about this ‘Ministry’ thing. Or at least, not very much. Because if that got back to my family, it was bound to make things a hell of a lot more complicated for me than they already were. 

I had to be subtle, but breaking into this place felt like a good way to make things worse. So, for a moment, I couldn’t pick the best plan. Show myself and ask to talk, or maybe see if I could sneak up and peek in a window without being seen by any of the cameras? 

Fuck it, enough with this sitting around and hesitating. I needed to do something. Maybe it was just because of how helpless, stupid, and guilty I felt about letting Eits get hurt, but I couldn’t be patient. I was going to get some fucking answers. I was about to get up and walk right to the back door to knock on it, when something else caught my eye. That garage was nearby, and the side door was open a few inches to reveal darkness beyond. 

Okay, it was a longshot that there’d be anything interesting in there. But at least it was something. Checking the cameras once more to make sure there was space, I carefully inched my way along the fence until I could make a quick run to the garage, slipping in through the open door.

The place was pretty dark inside, but I could make out a car with the light that was coming in through the dirty windows on the main door at the front. There was a tarp over it, and I only hesitated for a moment before stepping over, reaching out, and pulling the tarp away.

Hey, I knew this car. It was a dark sedan, which didn’t really narrow it down, of course. But I recognized the little plastic coconut and pineapple hanging from the mirror. I’d given those to Robert when I was a little kid, right? I sort-of remembered giving them to him after I won them in some school carnival thing, on the way home. 

This was Robert’s car. Or–well, it was the car he’d driven me around in. I’d thought that would’ve belonged to my parents, but maybe they let him keep it? I wasn’t sure. Either way, this was definitely the car. I wasn’t sure how I was that positive, but I was. This was the car I’d been driven from home to school and back again in for years. 

Lost in my own memories, which were somehow simultaneously vague and specific, I tried the driver’s side door. It opened with a click, making the dome light pop on. I stepped inside, sitting down in the driver’s seat before letting out a low breath. This… Turning my head, I looked in the rearview mirror. 

Through my own memories, I saw Robert’s eyes in the mirror from my normal place in the back seat. I saw myself as a kid, chattering away at the man as he drove me home from school. My backpack was lying beside me with a bunch of books scattered over the seat. I was telling Robert all about the story in one of the books, before excitedly asking if we could stop and pick up–

Ugggnnnnn…. My head hurt. God, where did that come from? One second I was fine, then there was this weird headache that made me double over so much I literally bounced my helmet off the steering wheel. Damn it, oww. What the hell? 

Speaking of the steering wheel, why was I holding onto it so tight? God, ow, I was hurting my own hands from the force of my grip on it. What was wrong with me? Was sitting in this car just bringing up some kind of… memories… My lost memories. That had to be it. Something about being in this car was reminding my subconscious of something, and my body was reacting. 

Shaking it off as much as I could, I reached over to open the glovebox. It popped down, and I found the usual. Gloves, a pair of sunglasses, a couple maintenance and owners manual books, an incredibly old thing of Tic Tacs… nothing useful. Except, as I moved all that out of the way, there was something stuck inside the owner’s manual that fell out and landed on the passenger seat. It was a photograph, which landed facedown. Curious (and basically desperate for something useful), I picked up the photo and turned it over. 

It was me. That was the first thing I realized. There were two people in the picture. One was me, at about age… nine or ten, was my guess. The picture had been taken at the very same zoo that I’d passed on the way here. It was right outside the monkey cage. 

My face, and the realization of where the picture had been taken, were the first things to hit me. Then I saw the rest of it. I was… behind someone else, my chin on the other person’s shoulder while my arms were thrown around him. I was grinning, smiling from ear to ear while basically hanging off the other person. The other…

Boy. It was a boy about the same age as I was in the picture. He had light brown hair, a slight spattering of freckles across his face, brown eyes, and crooked teeth. He was going to have to get braces soon, which he was scared about because he thought–

Uggggghnnn! Dropping the photo, I doubled over once more. Owww, oww! Damn it, my head! What was wrong with my head? Were… were my lost memories about that boy? Is that why seeing his picture made my head hurt so much? Anthony. That kid had to be Anthony, right? That was the only thing that made sense. And he’d been my friend. That was… that had to be it. He was my friend. He had to be, just from looking at that picture. I knew Anthony Tate. Or had known him, before he died. 

I knew the boy well enough for him to be a friend that I was basically hanging off of at the zoo. Robert had a picture of the two of us stuck in the glovebox of his car in this garage. I kept getting a headache every time I focused on him. Yeah, this was my lost memories, the ones my mom had talked about. 

What did my parents do to Anthony? That had to be it, right? It had to be. They did something… something to that boy, and I found out about it. Then they erased my memory so I wouldn’t freak out on them. 

Even as I sat there, thinking about all that, I found myself getting more upset, more angry, at the whole situation. Before I really understood or even thought about what I was doing, the door was open and I was climbing out of the car. My hand grabbed the photo, shoving it safely into one of my pockets before zipping it shut. 

Then I was leaving the garage. Answers. Whatever it took, I was going to get some fucking answers right fucking now. To that end, I was going to walk right up to that back door, knock on it, and find out what Robert knew, about Anthony, about Paige, about the guys who attacked Eits, all of it. I was getting answers, now

At least, that was the plan. But no sooner had I taken a couple steps out into the yard, than a sudden, sharp whistle caught my attention. The whistle was followed by what felt like a bee sting. I gasped, jerking backward just in time to see a dark red dart of some kind sticking out of my arm. It was… it felt…

My vision swam. Stumbling a bit, I fell to one knee, struggling to stay upright. It was a struggle I lost, falling onto my side. Everything was going blurry, as a figure started walking toward me. They were talking. “You know, going through that kid’s phone to find this address was a real bitch. But it has totally paid off.” 

The figure stopped right in front of me, so blurry I could barely focus on them. My vision was fading in and out. Black spots kept appearing, as the person continued while crouching down in front of me, dart gun held loosely in one hand. “After all, I thought I was just going to deal with one long-time pain in the ass.” 

The barrel of the dart gun was playfully tapped against the visor of my helmet, as I finally managed to focus on the person who was talking.

“But it turns out, it’s my lucky day. I get to play with you too,” Pencil finished, in the last brief moment before my vision went completely black. 

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