The Bond

Ch 73

"Bold."/"Bold italic" : animatronic is talking/animatronic is talking in mind

"Normal."/"Normal italic." : human is talking/human is talking in mind

=o^o=

Two in the morning.

No people visible at all. Dim lighting as not everyone turned on their headlights. The sound of crickets can be heard clearly accompanied by the leaves rubbing together because of the night wind. The air was quite cold.

"Can't your eyes emit light like a flashlight?"

"What do you think I am?"

"Emergency equipment."

Michael grinned as Ennard smacked him on the back of the head in irritation. The two of them walked together down the uneven path, to the left and right were trees as they drew away from the settlement towards Lucy's apartment building. The darkness meant that Michael had to rely on Ennard who could see in the dark through one of his eyes in human form, so Michael drew closer to Ennard.

"We don't have flashlights," Michael complained afterward.

The bridge of Ennard's nose scrunched up. "The only flashlight you have is broken because you threw it at me last year. You should have stolen the flashlight while working at that restaurant."

"Their flashlights last less than six hours! They were so violent."

Ennard's snort of amusement was heard. "So it's more fun to face me in that place, hm?" Ennard's eyes darted to Michael who flinched.

It seemed Michael had gotten too comfortable with him that he had forgotten what he had been through the day they met.

Michael shuddered, he immediately shook off the memory of the scooper. Michael suddenly stepped away from Ennard with caution, while Ennard only raised his eyebrows upwards to see Michael now puffing out his cheeks in annoyance. Once again the red-haired man snorted, before rolling his eyes in boredom and looking straight ahead again.

"You monster."

"Oh now you hate me again?"

Only a shrug that Michael gave before moving closer to Ennard again. "Maybe I hate Alice and her gang more," Michael replied perfunctorily. "They made us have to move places. Why don't they just give up?"

"Knowing that a human who should have died is walking beside his killer, scientists wouldn't miss that opportunity."

"It sucks."

"Who, the scientists?"

"You."

Michael turned as soon as he heard Ennard laugh—it seemed the first time he had heard Ennard laugh out loud. If he can be honest, Michael seemed momentarily stunned; Ennard had never laughed like this. He reminded himself again that it was this man beside him who took his internal organs and made him what he is now, but it felt like melting—oh no had he really lost his mind now?

He decided to think about something else. They will probably return to his hometown and he will be able to make another pilgrimage to his younger brother's grave. He hasn't been there in a long time.

"Dawson is waiting."

Ennard's words broke his little reverie. Michael glanced forward and squinted to make his vision clear. There was a figure from a distance, and Michael was very familiar with the hairpin that the girl always wore. Lucy had been waiting.

The closer they got, the clearer Lucy's figure became in the dim street lights. They both walked faster, even though there was a feeling of discomfort left inside each of them realizing that Lucy looked very nervous. The worry on Lucy's face was mapped, plus her fingers that were behind her body seemed to be squeezing each other. Cold sweat flowed from Lucy's forehead, while her eyes even glanced here and there until she was not aware of their arrival.