Chapter 15

PART II

PRESENT

2020

8 DAYS LEFT

In another life, he would be sitting outside with Christopher beside him, doing something normal fathers and sons did, maybe watching the stars or talking about cars they couldn’t afford, or football. Something ordinary.

Leane would have been long gone, forgotten and removed, because he would have seen her for what she was and wouldn’t have been afraid of the thought of raising Phoebe alone.

And Phoebe?

She would be alive. Not alive in the way she was then, not hunting him down every year as though she had nothing better to do with her after life, but she would be finishing university, moving into a house with a good boy- one unlike himself- and it would have been simple. It would have all been simple.

But then he would have never met Katherine and he would have never been able to help create the beautiful boy that Harvey was, inside and out.

Jenarius had been scared, had been in pain, had even been suicidal for a long time but never in his life had he been glad for the life he was living. Not like in that silent moment, as he drove the Mustang GT Angel had- no doubt- stolen. He accepted that this was his life and he tried, like he did every single day, to be glad with it.

The sun had risen but he hadn’t stopped driving since the death of that possessed boy. He remembered the kid’s black eyes, the way he had been a walking-talking corpse- this which he was surprised he wasn’t used to seeing now, and he had been sent as a message.

Not some warning, that wasn’t what he had been used for. It was just The Mist’s fucked up way of getting pumped up for the sorrow he definitely assumed he would be feeding off for the next year after October 12th.

Jenarius rolled his eyes.

Having hope was a dangerous thing for him, so was loving another human being and caring about anybody other than himself, yet he found himself dwelling in the sensation that it gave him.

When was the last time he was hopeful?

Even when Harvey had been saved from The Mist- twice when they had been found, once with his mother and then last year- he had never been hopeful. If anything, he had hated that he would have to go through another year keeping Harvey in the shadows, protecting him as best as he could, not letting him live a normal life. Not being able to sit outside with him long enough to watch the fucking stars.

It sucked, more than he thought possible. And it always would if he didn’t try, if he hadn’t agreed to join forces with the psycho Latino chick, if he hadn’t been threatened by the Bane of his existence.

The Mist had made the choice easier for him, by sending that boy, Jenarius knew he was doing the right thing. If anything went south, he’d be the one to lose his life this time, he’d be the one to fight. He wouldn’t do it for Phoebe, he definitely wouldn’t do it for Leane, and not even Katherine.

He would do it for Harvey and Harvey alone.

∆∆∆

She wanted to stretch her legs, her hands, her arms, her bums- any part of her body that felt like it had been crammed into a tuna can.

Her neck felt very broken even though she knew it wasn’t, it had just stiffened. She had stolen pillows and blankets from the motel for their road trip, a last-minute grab after watching the creepy, black eyed kid die properly, but had sacrificed the comfort for the sake of Harvey.

Angel couldn’t stand the sight of him, silent and innocent- green eyes blank- trying to fall asleep on the hard leather of her car seats (stolen car seats). She had handed all the pillows and all the blankets to him, telling herself to fuck the idea of comfort, she didn’t need it anyway.

Oh, but she bloody fucking did.

Angel twisted her neck from side to side, her bones cracking from the strain of relaxing muscles, and the car came to a halt outside a self-serve gas station. She had no idea where she was (Jenarius had made sure she didn’t use the map) but she didn’t care much, they weren’t in a crowded place.

The gas station looked like a spot one would use as a movie set, green trees towered high above them and around the gas station, the empty gravel road was covered in stray yellow and orange leaves, they painted the ground the colors of Fall, and she opened her car door and took the sight in with her eyes.

It was cold outside and she shivered, more jerked, as gusts of wind smacked her body from every corner. She rubbed her hands over her arms but it was no use. She noticed eyes staring at her and she turned to scowl at Jenarius.

“What?” she snapped.

He was filling her Mustang’s tank, one hand secure on the black and orange nozzle and the other tapped rhythmically against the open door of the driver’s seat.

“I have a jacket.”

She shrugged, “Good for you.”

“You can wear it,” he sighed, frustrated, “that’s if you want.”

Angel wanted to refuse it, the acceptance would have been stranger, but when she stumbled backwards from the strength of the wind and as her teeth began to chatter against teeth in her mouth, she leaned into the car and reached for the black leather jacket that hung around the arm of the driver’s seat.

Angel put it on and then stood, warm, in two leather jackets.

She rubbed her hands together and cautiously scanned their surroundings.

“Take a 50 from your left pocket and go pay,” he ordered.

Angel didn’t like how brisk he sounded, how controlling he sounded, but she thought now wasn’t the right time to insult him for it. She found the fifty in his jacket, it was wrapped around a wad of other bills, and she turned around and walked to the store.

When Jenarius was finished, he picked a half-asleep Harvey up in his arms and nodded curtly at Angel when she walked out the flexible door of the store.

“Potty break,” was his brisk explanation and she nodded.

Angel walked to the car and grabbed a gun from the cup holder in the front seat. She made sure it was loaded and then lowered it in her hand and faced the street.

Lord knew what was lurking in such places.

But she also couldn’t help but wonder what The Mist was up to.