Chapter 3 – From a normal day

"Mission, he left for the freaking mission again," I curse, getting angry at dad. He promised to stay for the dinner with Max.

"Was it that important?" Sam asks.

"You think I know? You think he'd tell me?"

"Wrong question then."

"If it is about me being a guest or something, I'm actually fine. Don't worry," Max says. "If not, that'll be awkward."

"Almost wanted to forgive him," I sigh. "What, none of you are going to ask me what the big reason was?"

"I never cared for it."

"Never cared? He is your dad! Even when Max says that maybe you are adopted, for being white, unlike us."

"Hey… I never said that," Max says, and I just continue looking at him. "Just wondered a bit, no crime."

"Mom was white," I say.

"Yeah, yeah. You said that."

I just scoff as a laugh, and silently continue walking.

"I'm sorry that we have to walk… again."

"Good quality time. I'd be scared a little if with your dad," Max scoffs. "If you do want to talk about it, you can."

"It is just unfair, okay?" I ask, and Max's open mouth shuts, and he listens to me. "He says he was angry too. Overwhelmed. So he went on a mission, doing the only thing he could do. He said he needed a DISTRACTION from us."

I expect Sam to start talking, but she doesn't. Both just wait for me to continue.

"I only… I never wanted to… I had to always be the big person. The eldest in the house. Taking care of a sister. Lucky, she was the best. She was and is my best friend," I say, feeling my eyes swell up. "But I didn't want to be the… head. I couldn't decide. I couldn't… maintain. I was just a kid!"

"Rusty…" Max puts his arm around my shoulder, and Sam hugs me from my other side.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't mean you should have been on the lead. I just… wanted him there. I wish he was."

"Not that. I never understood your anger on him. But deep down, I must have been such a bother," Sam says.

"No way… sure, it was hard. But you made every hard moment lighter."

"I love you…" Sam says.

"I lov-"

"Max," she adds.

"Wow… you… are brutal. Thanks for that!"

"Hehe… kidding. Love you too."

"Missed the I-part, somewhere there."

"How about we play a little?" Max suggests, still holding me.

"Wow, I just realised that you both are basically sticking on my body," I say, but they don't let go. "Sure, let's."

The ground was on the way. We played here most of the times. There always was a ball left here, nobody stole it… ever. Though, the ball had surely changed once in a while, even now.

We ourselves had to get a new one, after we broke it.

Guess it was just an unsaid rule of always maintaining a ball here.

Even in such a deserted place.

Whenever I realised, I realised of how there were such less people around here. And of how we lived so far. While Max lived in a better place. Around more people.

"It is getting dark, so first to score five goals is the winner," Sam says.

I was a professional here, so they both were always the team. Pretty good of a competition actually, even when they sucked at it, just a time ago.

And the game doesn't stop even at the fifth goal. Because I had scored it, against them. So we stop finally, when it gets too dark, and they finally are on the lead.

"So you are making dinner, loser," Sam says to me.

"Good. Or Max would be hurting in the stomach for a week," I say with a smirk.

"You like my cooking! You yourself told me!"

"Little foggy on it."

"Guys…" Max says, drawing our attention. "Do you… feel it too?"

Me and Sam exchange glances, but don't say a thing, while Max just seems to concentrate on something unknown.

"Feel what, Max?" I finally ask.

"I'm not sure… I felt like… I even heard a little rustle… as if someone's watching us… following us."

I just look around, and we silently, and slowly, walk forward.

"Boo!" Sam says.

"Really?" I sigh. "That was a bad one, you two."

But when I look carefully, I still see something in Max's eyes. A kind of… search, for something.

Yet, we safely reach our house, in the pitch darkness. I stay a few steps backwards from the two, as they open the lock on the front door.

"Rustizen Villers…" a whisper-like voice reaches me. "I've been expecting you."

I quickly turn behind, as I feel the voice closer to me now.

"Max? Sam!"

"Not it," the voice says.

***

The lock clicks open, in between my hands, and I meet Max's eyes, and nod.

"Rusty…" Max says, and just freezes. "Get inside, Sam."

I look back, and there is no one there, but my legs move and I move into the house. Max enters too, and quickly closes the door behind him.

"Where is Rusty?" I ask.

"Not there… I think something did follow us."

"Then shouldn't we go back? And you just stayed silent after saying you felt something, so I thought you were pranking him."

"I did… I felt… Aster."

That was not the first time he said this. And many times it was proven of how he was right in feeling her presence.

Just a bit jealous.

"I thought she just wanted to surprise Rusty or something. So I just let it happen but… I think she still hasn't… healed."

Me and Rusty had lost our mother, but Aster… she had lost both her parents. We were acquainted since college… but after the first year, when her father died, we barely ever saw her. And even when we did, things couldn't just take the fun turn after that, it was just blue.

We were scared for her. Kids like this… they turned. To drugs, violence… just bad environments. It was good seeing her once in a while.

"Max, we should… go outside," I say.

Max finds, as I help, two huge light-torches and, a metal rod and the axe from dad's room.

We couldn't find a gun.

Max suggests to carry the axe, and we step outside, locking the door behind us again.

"Stay close," Max says, and I nod.

We go around the house, and try to search for… what even? Rusty? Just like that?

The first minutes, we try to find tracks, anywhere at all. Unfamiliar tracks, or any suspicious activity's mess.

Next couple minutes I suggest splitting, but Max only allows us to go forward, increasing the search radius, and that takes longer. We round the house for about ten times, this way. Slowly and carefully scanning.

Next we start shouting Rusty's name, while being ready to attack anyone. That takes ten more rounds, but no other voice than ours could be heard. We shouldn't be shouting, that would make being alert for sounds very problematic.

"Think 'Pompey' followed?" Max asks.

"Would be another level of psycho, if so."

It couldn't be. But… things happen.

"We should have split," I suggest again.

And right then, after a dozen minutes into searching, or maybe two dozens,… we hear a rustle.

Could be… anything. But wild animals were unlikely. Except maybe a stray dog or a hare.

We quickly move towards the little rustle, guessing where it came from… the porch of the house, right at the ground, Rusty fallen there.

"Rusty!" I gasp.

"Where is- whoever," Max says, getting ready.

Rusty doesn't speak, but only whimpers with pain, holding his chest.

I feel at this point that maybe he was pranking us back. I'd kill him, if he really was.

"Sam!" Rusty says, continuing to whimper.

"Are you hurt? What happened? And where?" I ask, yet concerned. What if he is actually hurt?

"Can we please go inside?" Rusty asks.

Max stands guard, and I open and help Rusty into the house. Max makes it in safely.

I get a glass of water for Rusty to drink. After the first gulp, he places the glass abruptly on the table, and starts rushing away.

Even Max, who was still on the alert, follows him, alongside me, into the washroom.

Rusty stands in front of the mirror and looks at himself. Then he starts unbuttoning the upper buttons of his shirt.

"Woah-woah-woah," I say, covering my face, while looking to my side, towards Max.

Max just stares ahead, and his jaw drops, looking at Rusty. Rusty was fit but that reaction-

"Oh my god," I say, after witnessing what Max and Rusty were seeing until now, wordlessly.

In the mirror, Rusty with unbuttoned shirt was standing… with a… mirror in his chest. A brown glass, flashy, and sharp.

"It… it pierced into my chest," Rusty says. "That person…"

"Rusty, does it hurt? What the hell?" I ask.

"It… doesn't," Rusty says. "It's scary. Is it a parasite?"

"You think I'd know?" I ask.

"I do…" Max says. "Remember I told you I saw something of an image… a drawing in my parents' room?"

"A person with a mirror-plate on their chest," I say. "That felt ridiculous."

"A dragon," Max says. "That's what was written, alongside the mirror-plate on the chest- drawing."

"It's not…" Rusty says, touching the thing on his chest. "It's a rock."

"Don't touch it… it could hurt," I say, through my teeth.

"It doesn't…"

The… ROCK, in his chest, just starts glowing like some shiny stone, a gem, with brown light. It blinks and blinks. It continues to do so, many more times, at different tones of speed. Rusty tries to put it off, as if it is fire.

"Does THAT hurt?" I ask, moving closer to him, cautiously.

"No it just… tingles."

And after the weird attempt, the blinking of brown light finally comes to a stop, probably by itself.

"What the hell was that?" Rusty asks.

I look towards Max. "Saw anything about that?"

"Well, it seemed more like a… code, don't you think?"

"Did anyone recognise the combination of it?" Rusty asks.

"Or memorize?"