Arthur ushered them inside, away from the potential of prying eyes.
The blinds swiftly covered while Kage was laid abroad a dining table matted with a cooking sheet to stave off the blood from the synthetic wood. The bug man immediately went to work in order to identify any potential injuries. In his haste, he couldn't muster the courage to usher the others away instead seeking their help. Either companion was ordered to rummage around in a taped together cardboard box searching for the needed tools.
A dozen or so minutes passed resulting in a puzzled Arthur. The boy's left leg was surely shattered yet had already received an amateur's aid with a makeshift splint to reset the bone. The process had been aided with a helping of the boy's advanced healing which nearly repaired the appendage. From there, Kage suffered severe lacerations down the front of his arms with a particular wound which sliced from between his index and ring finger to the center of his palm. Once more these wounds were healed but, in their place, a pink scar echoed the torturous pain. Even more profound was that the blood draped over Kage's body did not belong to him. Its scent belonged to one similar in age but of a differing sex.
Rubbing his forehead Arthur made an abrupt decision. "Out! Close tah door and sit tight in the livin' room." His hairy finger pointed toward Isaiah but signaled for the others as well to heed his order.
Claire jumped, ready to argue but was subsequently shut down by the bluntness of Arthur's next words, "Ya wanna watch as I tear off his skivvies, huh? Get The Fuck Out!" Going red in the face Claire quickly withdrew from the room followed by Jacob and Isaiah equally rushing to leave from the situation. Yet, Gan was the last to leave.
His attention fell from Arthur's sharp nail to the unconscious form given to Kage. His friend's appearance had almost choked Gan with initial horror but since caught him in worry. That blood was not Kage's, Gan could tell from the smell alone, a conclusion that he knew he wasn't alone in understanding. The brief glances shot from the many eyes of the doctor practically yelped in a similar recognition.
There was too much purity behind the iron in that stench. It was feminine. All heightening the worry in him. Kage had hurt someone without Gan's knowledge. Someone that Kage most likely wouldn't remember, another loose end that led back to him.
'First the butler, then the fire, now this mess.'
Messes that were piling onto one another forming a prison that would seek to tear him apart. The very aroma of these messes forced sweat from Gan's pores.
"Ya listenin'? Get out!" Shaken from his confounding troubles, Gan walked out the open door shutting it behind himself.
Arthur spotted the reaction on that boy's face.
Worry. Not for a friend, but himself. A narcissistic respite undone by the convulsing figure.
'Well fuck.'
He placed the diamond etched blade onto a napkin then removed his latex gloves. Throughout his analysis of the boy, he was constantly reminded to not touch their friend's hand. Each expressed a confusing array of discretion over the consequences Kage's power could wreak when unconscious. Arthur concurred, composed of a fear that prevented him from even coming within a foot's radius of their range.
Pushing a finger at Kage's face, Arthur flicked him on the cheek, finding a reaction to reassure him.
The boy lived.
Scratching the back of his neck, the doctor pushed himself into a chair unclasping the cork to a bottle of fine whiskey. A particular concoction that felt a various set of usage to sterilize the lacerations found on the patient.
"Yur a fookin' lucky azz basterd." Gulping half the bottle, Arthur burped out his satisfaction. However, while Arthur basked in relief from Kage's return, the congregation of friends were embroiled in a match of contesting anxiety.
Claire sat on the manure green couch, attention drawn to the cool liquid still tainting her porcelain skin, her gaze jumping every now and again to the pacing form of Jacob before her. Mutterings seethed from his breath.
"The hell are we doing? The fuck did Kage do? Fucking fuck this shit is insane. The hell am I gonna tell my dad? Holy crap we skipped school, didn't we?" More and more mounting issues flung from the crevice of his lips.
It had returned. The very belief in dread that had tainted him onward from his mother's passing. Since his fight with Hochi and Pochi, Jacob believed this tendril-like monster to finally be laid to rest, but now it sought vengeance. Yet, Jacob couldn't place his full potential into these poisonous wanderings as this vengeance was abated by the singular beast that emanated his sickening aura.
Gan.
The beating, fresh in his mind, awakened Jacob from his muttering every once in a while. Forced he was to give a stirred look at the boy whose downcast glare would surely burn a hole in the rug. Some thought was currently eating up that person's thoughts. If it were broken, so help the one who committed such a grave sin. Only the soft whispers, unheard by all, beneath his breath echoed a dawning conclusion.
Claire on the other hand did not demonstrate her anxiety to such an extreme. She placed her hands to either side of her twisted legs, making an effort to find the last in their cohort. Her initial realization left her expression wound in a fit of confusion.
During this moment, Isaiah watched her the entire time attempting to solve what her expression truly conveyed. It was as if he was waiting for her to come upon him. His short stature left him almost an afterthought in their group which in fact led Claire barely able to recount the number of times the two of them had spoken. He was a special friend of Jacob, possibly Kage and Gan when needed, but never associated himself with her unless on the rarest of occasions. However, lo' and behold, here they were sharing a brief lapse in understanding.
A cohesive thought surrounding the situation. Gan had changed, or was he simply revealing himself? Jacob was lost, and she needed to get out of her own haze. They were in this together to the end.
Kage had separated himself from them so that they could claim negligence to whatever he had to do in order to save Daniel, but now, they ruined that plan. From here on the struggle delivered them to the same abyss together. They had to stay back-to-back if they were to get through this whirlwind.
Isaiah made a brief nod at the window then disappeared into the mucky green of the evening weather. The message was clear to her; Claire followed after making subtle movements which eventually left her near the back door, then subsequently fell into its shadows just as Isaiah had done.
There they stood under the graying evening which would soon fall into an ambivalent gloom. Wind coalescing from the coming tide smelled of rust; the tell-tale sign that acidic rain would soon arrive to paint the earth a sickly green. All of which spurred the two figures that fought to not catch the other's attention. This was a talk neither was willing to begin.
Suffering from the mounting pressure more so than his feminine companion, Isaiah was the first to break. "Claire… I know we've never really talk-
"It's all coming apart, isn't it?" Her glassy eyed stare bubbled over with a hint of fluid. Fluid that never left the socket.
Isaiah affirmed her suspicion with no more than a nod. "Jacob's never done well under pressure. Yet, I'm sure he will still follow along with us for... Whatever we may ask of him." Claire didn't enjoy the connotation with that statement.
"What would we ask him to do?"
Isaiah rubbed the back of his neck, wincing as a blue bruise still seeped out a sensitive jolt. "What matters now is protecting Kage. I'm not leaving him and if I'm not going neither will Jacob. He'd never leave his friends, no matter how scared he gets. That's just how he is." A brief pause forced Claire to contemplate the statement. They would essentially use Isaiah as a captive bargaining piece to invoke Jacob's aid. Its rancid sin scrunched her face.
"Why do we have to protect Kage?! He's done nothing!" Her voice, near a shout, forced Isaiah into action. Lunging to grab her wrist, he applied just the right amount of pressure for her to realize the mistake. They had to ensure Gan wouldn't find them scheming. Their fiendish friend despised the very idea, and if he discovered them doing such a thing, especially with Isaiah mixed into the subject, no amount of begging would suffice.
'Why would we be scheming? Especially from Gan? He -'
Claire remembered the sight she wished to forget. Gan brandishing his blood-soaked fist; crashing it into the skull of another person until it cracked with viscous dark matter. The steel forest around them strewed from their struggle, despite this horror show, the boy could not relieve himself of the manic grin that licked at his chops for the stray particles of blood oozing from his foe. For quite possibly the first time in her life, she had seen a glimpse of death in that image. If she had been discovered by the beast she too would have been torn apart to its glee.
The memory brought with it a cold shiver that echoed her emotion.
Isaiah let go of her arm, letting it fall to her waist. "Dear god, Claire. Kage killed someone." She found herself inside the depths of her mind rationalizing the thought.
Kage had killed someone. It didn't surprise her. Of them all she knew that Kage would be one of the first to be placed into such a situation due to his inability to run in the face of danger. Yet, he sought this out. In his fervent attempt to rescue Daniel somehow, he killed someone. A death bringing with it a gruesome display to them all.
"That blood can't be his and whatever he's done is already on us!"
"Then we just need to help him, right?" Isaiah ceased his tirade. "We need to help him find Daniel then this can all be over. Then we can go back to normal. All of it will be fixed. Daniel will fix Kage, he will fix Gan, we will all be fixed. I can go back to being with G-Gan and all of this will be over.
I… I-I will no longer have these thoughts that suffocate me every night. Made to stay by the infesting vipers that snake along my body sensitizing the skin to every wallowing noise vibrating off the walls. H-He will no longer plague me allowing us to be friends again. That will be fixed, right? Right Isaiah?" There was no response to her plea. Just the frightened pose of a boy unable to comprehend the set of despair manifesting before him.
Jolted by her spiel of untested waters, Isaiah simply hung lame without a clue as to what to say. He remained as inexperienced for such situations as when plunged from his mother's womb. Nothing more but a chirping babe frozen in stilled remembrance.
"Answer me, Isaiah!" Claire suddenly fell to her knees placing her head into the palm of either hand that massaged the temples. "I can't take it anymore. All of these thoughts. When he was gone I felt so lost, like a piece had been ripped from me. I-I-I-I-I-I-I."
She could not stop the stutter as it drew on for seconds. Even still without a pathway to take bearing good fruit, Isaiah thrusted himself forward taking her by the shoulder then shaking her out of the stupor that had hurriedly rushed over.
For a moment, Isaiah made to bring forth platitudes complimented by exaggerated whims festering in lies. Yet, when put to speak such deceptions into reality, he halted from doing so. He could not deceive Claire, even now when it would suffice. He wouldn't, otherwise, it would be destroying the last of their shared trust.
"Nothing can be fixed. But I'm sure we can get close. When Kage awakens, stay by his side. Don't let Gan near and when I get back, we'll head out to save Daniel… At least, then there was a point to all of this."
Faltering in her manic episode, Claire simply agreed with a flat, "Sure." There was no other response she sought to utter as anything else would be a denial of her thoughts. The emphasis of restricting Gan wasn't considered for she knew the untold reason. One that she would rather lie to herself about.
Although Isaiah produced a hand for her to rise from, Claire refused. Instead standing by her own two feet then hurriedly rushing to the inside of the ramshackle home. Isaiah followed loosely behind but stopped below the cover of the roof casting a look out across the dirt patch of a backyard which was divided by a chain-linked fence only to be suffocated by another opposing structure cobbled from scrap metal and rotted wood.
The metal soon echoed from the 'plinks' that the rain casted over them. Its surface reforged by the sickly green steam that then tainted the earth with its poison. All used to create a greater scent which permeated the world around stinking of greased skin slick with a batch of machine oil.