Evol

chapter twenty-nine

Thursday 20th June, 2019

Julian.

I pulled up in the car park out front.

The electric blue diner sign shone down, the sign itself cracked and hanging down on one side.

I killed the engine, but kept my hands on the wheel; I didn't know what to do with them. Against my will, I looked over to Brooke, curled up against the window in the passenger seat.

She hadn't spoke a word since she got in the car; it was so strange that she wasn't speaking, I didn't even bother to tell her to get her feet off the leather seat.

After I'd told her "yes", there had been a few minutes where she'd just stared at me blankly, blue-grey eyes not even seeing me; I guessed she was either in shock or realising. At a loss, I'd tried to coax her out of the state, saying "Brooke, come on. Brooke. . ."

And then I'd touched her arm; it was like an impulse, but when she flinched away from me, I regretted it.

That's when the hysterics began.

She didn't cry, instead, Brooke yelled. And screamed. And then yelled some more; most of the time I didn't even understand what she was saying. I'd never felt useless before; then, I did. Fighting did nothing, killing did nothing, threatening did nothing. Kissing did nothing.

I just stared as she walked to and fro, pulling at her short bronze hair and spitting words, glasses fogged with anger.

All the while, I'd had a knot in my stomach, twisting. It took me a while to realise it was dread, and in the moment that her eyes cleared, and she looked at me, it twisted so much it hurt.

She'd ran over to the boy, trying to wake him up, shrieking at me "is he dead? Is he dead? Did you kill him?".

I couldn't tell her no; instead, I strode over to her, hunched over a stranger, slapping his face and I pulled at her arms.

Easily, I could have dragged her away. Usually I would have; patience wasn't my strong suit. Yet, as I felt her trembling body under my hands, every ounce of strength left me.

In the end, though, I had to hoist her over my shoulder and take her away. Brooke was tall, curvy and draped over my shoulder with ease. At first, she beat at my back with her fists, but gave up when I opened my car door down the street and pushed her inside.

Along the way to the diner, I'd sent a message to the boys to come and get the body. Collateral damage.

Now, we were on the outskirts of town, away from anywhere she could flee to. My eyes were on her, noticing how she hadn't moved an inch. Her eyes stared out of the window, seemingly seeing nothing. A yellow cardigan was wrapped around her, hands like claws on the hem, clutching it closer.

I couldn't explain the tightening in my chest at the sight of her, the ridiculous urge to reach over, put her in my lap and hold her.

Running a hand through my curls in frustration, I decided to break the silence. "Are you hungry?" I asked.

There was no reply. No movement.

"Did you already eat?" I tried again.

Nothing.

"Brooke? Are you listening to me?"

No reply.

"Brooke?" Her lack of reaction sparked something in me, a hot and desperate feeling. Was that. . . Fear? "Brooke!" I said louder.

She jerked to life, wild eyes finding mine. To my relief, they calmed when they landed on me.

Before they darkened with anger.