Those that are silent... - Naomi M-B (i want to read a book TXT) 📗

he asked but received no response. Instead she pushed against his hand, pressing the pencil tip against the paper. With slow and shaky movements, she dragged his hand up then diagonally then up again. N. After that was a wobbly circle. O. Then a T. O. T. A. L. O. N. E.

“Not alone?” He tilted his head, eyebrows lowering. “Do you mean me?”

She gave no hint of a response as she fell back against the bed almost utterly exhausted.

“Uta?”

Very slowly, Uta shook her head. Her eyes drifted to the door where voices could be heard calling.

“Kami! Oh Ka~ami!” Satra.

“You sound like a paedo, dumbass.” Ren.

With an exuberant ‘Ah ha!’ Satra sung around the doorframe, grinning. “This is where you're hiding. And you have a girl with you. My word, you're taking after Terone.”

Smiling brightly again, Kami leaped to his feet. “Don’t be stupid.”

“He can’t help it,” Ren interjected.

“This is a task my Aunt set us,” Kami continued, “To h-”

“You'll have to tell us on the way,” Ren told him, as Satra shoved his watch in Ren’s face. “It's time to go. You know what Mum is like when we’re late for dinner.”

“I thought I was going to be brutally beaten with those avocados last week,” Satra said, voice a melodramatic whisper of terror. “So we’d better get moving!”

With a nod, Kami turned and waved. “Alright. See you, Uta.”

Those that return

"That was fun.” Satra grinned. “You'll have to introduce us to your friend.” He nudged Kami, winking.

Nodding, Kami beamed up at him, the innuendo lost on him. “Yep! We're going again, day after tomorrow. Auntie wants us to spend tomorrow doing homework or something. Though she said you three should do your UCAS.”

Ren scowled. “Seriously?”

With a laugh, Satra leaned an elbow on his shoulder. “How about we steal Terone, go over to Kami's and make it a party?”

“Whatever,” Ren muttered, rolling his eyes. “See you later, Kami.” The pair turned left up the street while Kami turned right. His Aunt wouldn't be home for another couple of hours so he would have the house to himself. Grinning, he deliberated what he should talk about next time he saw Uta. It seemed wrong to him to tell the other's parts of the story. Each of the four accounts that knitted together to create the story were deeply personal to each of them. They all had a lot of memories shut away in them, things they’d rather not face.

Still deep in thought, he unlocked the front door and went inside. The television was on. A frown creasing his brow, Kami walked over to turn it off; he was sure he had- In the reflection, he saw someone standing behind him.

Whipping around, Kami tried to throw a punch like Ren had shown him but it was caught, effortlessly, in the man's huge hand. Useless.

“A runt like you shouldn't even bother,” the man laughed. That voice.

“D- Dad?” Kami whispered, horror robbing his lungs of breath. An icy coldness crept along his spine, spilling into his veins.

“Why so tense?” his father asked, “no need to be worried. We are family.”

Terror flooded his brain, the pounding of his frantic heart beat against his ear drums. “Why- Why are you here?" Kami's throat was dry. His adrenalin swamped brain was firing random facts at him; his father had been traveling, tan lines adorned his skin making a gradient of skin tones, he’d been in several fights over his absence and hadn’t won all of them.

“To take you back,” his father told him, releasing his hand. “I need you again. Now grab your stuff and let's go.”

But Kami was frozen. “No.” His voice was barely louder than a breath.

For a moment there was silence, then: “What did you say to me?”

Back straightening, Kami forced himself to look his father in the eye. You are not alone.

That’s what Uta had told him. You will never be alone. Never again. There was no need to be afraid. He was no longer alone. Never again would he have to suffer in silence. Somehow... they would always be there.

“I said 'no',” he replied, blinking to subdue the stinging in his eyes. “I'm not going with you.”

There was a moment of intense silence. Taking advantage of the stillness, Kami looked up into his father’s face for the first time in what felt like forever. He looked terrible. Once healthy, vibrant skin had given way to a pallid, sickliness. His slate coloured eyes were exhausted and bloodshot, almost mad.

“The boy’s talking,” he muttered under his breath. “Boy’s talking back to me. THE BOY’S TALKING BACK TO ME!” he screamed. Shocked, Kami staggered back. Rarely had his father ever raised his voice beyond the necessary levels to be heard. “The boy’s talking back, the boy’s talking BACK!” A massive hand reached out and gripped Kami’s hair. “Boy doesn’t talk! The boy just comes with me!” He was unhinged. Whatever had happened to his father in his two year absence had robbed him of his mind. “Boy comes with ME!” He tugged harder, trying to pull Kami through the now open doorway.

Out into the fading light of day and uncut grass. Warm earth smacked into his knees as Kami stumbled and fell. Hair was ripped away, strands caught between the knuckles of his father’s fist. Scrambling to his feet, Kami began to run. Feet tripping in the tangled grass desperately running. Running.

Arms seized his waist and he was hoisted into the air. Flailing wildly, he struck out with his legs. Once, twice, three times. Each kick earned a slight grunt but that was all. Firm grip intact, Kami’s father staggered towards the car. It was the same from two years ago, if only more battered and travel worn.

“Get off me!” Kami shrieked. “Help! Somebody!”

A sudden shout made Kami’s father freeze.

“Put him down!” Ren bellowed, charging towards them. Behind him, Terone and Satra had given up on keeping pace with their speedster friend and were jogging, looks of resignation scrawled across their features.

Despite Kami’s father not making a single move, Ren kept on going. He ploughed straight into him. Kami went flying backwards as he father was knocked off of his feet.

Winded and gasping, Kami stared up at the sky.  The sound of fists on flesh filled his ears, interrupted by the yelling and cursing of his father.

An out of breath Satra appeared above him and grabbed him, pulling him out of harm’s way. Once again vertical, Kami watched as Ren stalked closer to his father, ready to strike again. “Are you alright?” Satra demanded, grabbing his shoulders, face tight with worry. “Did he hurt you?”

Shaking his head, Kami smiled. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Nah.” Satra waved his hand airily, relief surging through his every molecule. “You should thank Terone and his trillions of contacts. One of them saw your old man break in and told him.”

“I tried to contact you,” Terone told him. “But your phones were still turned off from being in the hospital. I didn't know exactly where the hospital was so I waited for Ren and Satra at their house.”

“Yeah.” Satra grinned. “Then we had to run all the way here. Why didn’t we remember our phones sooner?!”

“Yeah,” Ren growled, “I would’ve killed this bastard sooner.”

Shrugging, Terone slid his own phone into his pocket. “I’ve already called the Police. They’ll be here soon. I would have called them first but…” He trailed off, glancing toward Kami apologetically.

“Ren would’ve gotten himself in trouble trying to hurt him,” Kami realised. “It’s fine.”

Oblivious to them, Ren, who was crouched on Kami's father's back twisting the man's arms, put his head near the man's ear. “Hear that, you bastard?” he whispered, almost delighted. “You’re going away for a long time.”

*

“And you’re all safe?” Beatrice repeated. On the other end Kami assured her again that the only one that had been hurt was his father. “Alright, but I want you to stay over Satra and Ren’s tonight, I won’t be back till late. Okay? Good boy. Love you, see you in the morning.” Setting the phone on the hook, she stared at the opposite wall for a good few moments. She’d been worried this would happen. They all had. Picking up the phone again, she dialled.

It was answered on the second ring.

“Yes?” came the greeting.

“‘Locked up’,” she quoted. “‘Will never trouble you again’. That’s what you told me.”

“I’m sorry, Bea, but you’re going to have to be more specific. It’s been a long day. I’ve got paperwork five miles high and a cramp like you wouldn’t bel-”

“My brother-in-law just broke into my house and attempted to kidnap my nephew,” she snapped.

There was a long pause. “Ah.”

“Ah?” she hissed. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”

“Sorry! There isn’t a lot I can do right now. Has he been arrested?”

Forcing herself to calm down, she nodded slightly as she spoke. “Yes, the police have him in a holding cell and all the boys are safe. A little shaken but safe.”

“We’ll get hold of him,” they assured her. “And we’ll put a stop to him.”

“That’s what you said last time!” she exclaimed.

Voice chilling considerably, the person replied, “My apologies, Miss Kennings, but I have many more responsibilities than ensuring the safety of four boys. I am not all powerful, my resources are stretched thin and I’m still building up my influence. I will do my best but that’s all I can promise. Is that understood?”

A hundred protests sprang into her mouth. After several moments, she reminded herself who she was speaking to. “I understand.”

“Anyway!” the person chirped. “How’s our princess?”

“Contact has been made,” she replied, face grim. “And she’s already showing improvement. This… this won’t get the boys hurt will it?”

“As long as everything goes according to plan, they shouldn’t even know she’s missing for a good for weeks. Just… make sure the boys don’t go talking about her. We don’t know who might be listening.”

There was a pause as Beatrice glanced down at her assessment notes. “How long do you think this will take?”

“I have no idea. No one’s ever attempted this before. It might not even work.”

“Trust me,” Beatrice assured the speaker. “If anyone can do it, they can.”

Another pause stretched across a thirty second gap before it was broken by the speaker again; “Just out of interest… what did you do to get her admitted?”

For a moment, she thought to herself. “Oh, nothing drastic, just the usual string pulling.”

“Metaphorical or literal?”

“Both.”

Taster

 Taster for the next chapter:

 

“What did you mean?” Dean demanded. “How am I like you?”

Satra stared at him. How much