I felt my head hit the ground which resulted in stars dancing in my vision. Scoutfield hovered in my view a moment later, kneeling over me. His concerned expression was present again, but it was mixed with amusement as though he was immensely proud of his childish actions. I felt his hands pressing my ribs, checking my skull, and then he pressed two fingers gently to the side of my neck, muttered a half-formed stream of words, and moved to lift me. I pushed him away harshly and rolled over.
"I've lived through worse." I snapped.
I clumsily got to my feet, staggered, and then fell over. To my absolute horror, Scoutfield helped me upright once more and held me steady until I could stand by myself. I started off immediately, deciding to return to my brother and get away from Everett Scoutfield before he had the nerve to help me again.
"You might not want to go that way." he called after me a moment later.
I kept walking, keeping my back turned to him.
"And why would that be?"
"Because if you're heading back to the road, you're actually going the wrong way."
I froze and whipped around to face him.
His smug grin was triumphant and I wished could put him out cold for it.
I started in the opposite direction without a word. Scoutfield easily managed to keep pace with my furious speed, his shoulder brushing annoyingly against my own every few steps. I ignored it. He wasn't worth getting angry over, I told myself before taking it back.
He was absolutely worth getting angry over.
I reached Echo, snatched my brother's hand back from her, and continued down road. I could hear Echo and Scoutfield behind me, arguing about logistics and my mental state, but I didn't care. I turned and knelt down to my brother's height.
"Are you alright?"
He nodded, his little lips pressed together in a not-quite-pout.
"We're going to town now, alright?"
He nodded again and I straightened up, turning to continue down to the square. But as I continued down the road, Echo and Scoutfield trailing a little ways behind us, I quickly started to realise that something was very, very wrong. Sleeping men lay by the side of the road, still dressed in their work clothes from being on their way to work. Sleeping women, too, were there, their dresses stretched out around them. The sleeping children were last: young, school-age, teen. Their eyes were closed, waiting to be woken from their slumber.
No, I realised. Not sleeping, dead.
Their blistered faces blazed brightly against the contrasting shades of dirt and grass, blinding me as I stood, stunned. I felt sick to my stomach.
In a second of panic, I snatched my brother into my arms, pressing his face into my shoulder. My steps quickened as I stumbled forward, begging for the trail of bodies to come to an end. There was no way it would stay like this the whole road to the town…
But it wouldn't come to an end.
Finally exhausted, I fell to my knees, clutching Calix tightly to myself. Echo rushed in from behind me and grabbed my hand, attempting to pull me to my feet, but I couldn't move an inch. I felt Scoutfield nudge her aside as he slipped his hands under my arms from behind. He lifted me easily to my feet and then removed my brother from my arms, handing him gently over to Echo. He then forcibly turned me around and pushed me forward, and then I was automatically walking back down the road in the direction from which I had come.
I was aware of the fact that Echo was still beside me, holding Calix as his arms wound around her neck in a death grip. I was also aware that Scoutfield was on my other side, admonishing me as though he was my father.
"You should have known better than to take the baby out nowadays. It isn't good for either of you," he lectured. "You shouldn't be seeing this," he motioned to the dead bodies lining the road, "Besides: you and the baby run a high risk catching Taipei Mortem every time you step out your front door."
"Oh, is that what they're calling it now?" I was only half sarcastic, too exhausted to be very annoyed and mad with him.
"Yes, it is..." he raised his hand to scratch the back of his neck. "I have to say," he added, "we officials have never been more busy."
"It must be so painful to your poor little hands."
I said it with just about as much conviction as I could muster, which wasn't very much. He simply glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, the corner of his mouth tilting into that annoying smirk that made me hate him more than usual.
"You're hardly as scary as you could be," he commented unhelpfully. "Are you really losing your spark?"
"Why don't you get lost?"
He made a noise that greatly resembled a laugh.
"Maybe I'm trying to be helpful."
The words were forced out as though they were literally painful for him to say. Through my mind flashed the memories of him bullying me and the other children in the vicinity. I remembered him manhandling me, frightening my young teacher in Year 3, and even shooting the Widow Garber in the wrist, making her unable to take in washing, which had been doing for money since her husband died. I recalled him twisting my arm and, moments ago, unnecessarily making me fall out of the tree.
"You interpret the word: 'helpful' very loosely," I responded coldly.
He didn't answer as I weakly tried to shrug his hand off my shoulder, but it only tightened its grip. It didn't exactly help that he was nearly eight inches taller than me, and so gravity was on his side. Calix sighed quietly and curled into Echo's chest, dozing off to sleep as we continued to walk towards home.
None of us spoke anymore for awhile. I was walking with my sleeping brother, my not-friend, and the person i hated most in the world.
There wasn't much to say.
Echo saw her father and had to leave us. She handled my sleeping brother to Scoutfield and gave me a quick hug before rushing off, and then it was just us.
We arrived back at my house and I quickly took my brother to lay him down. When I came back out, Scoutfield was pacing the mantle. He stopped when I returned to the room and turned toward me decisively.
"You going to be alright?" he questioned.
I turned toward him, confused, before remembering that it was his job to protect us.
"I'll be fine," I informed him sharply. "I don't need your false niceties. I'm not going to report you for being a jerk. I'm used to it."
He looked slightly stunned, as though that hadn't been his intention.
"I'm not a little girl..." I informed him, never giving him a chance to reply. "I'm not - a little girl... and I'm not scared of the dark, and I don't - need a jerk - to save me."
"It's not wrong to be scared of the dark," Scoutfield told me. His lips quirked into a smirk, and then his face turned darkly serious. "As long as when the lights come on, you're not frozen."
"It doesn't matter," I snapped. "You, and your Senators, and your stupid Sly. You all keep the lights off. For all of us."
Everett Scoutfield moved to attention, his shoulders held back and his head high.
"Be that as it may, Miss Nova, it is possible that you've misread us."
"I don't want to hear your excuses!" I was suddenly shouting at him. "You can say, or think, or do anything! Anything at all! It won't make up for the fact that you are animals, and Sly is your herding dog! You are swine, and he is an-"
"Stop."
Scoutfield's eyes had turned sharp. He turned on his heel and moved to the door, glancing back at me as he did.
"Nova Quinn," he told me coldly. "You... are a brat."
With these words, he left, closing the door behind him, and I hated him.