Chapter 15: One-Way Ticket.

“Look, please try and understand, Alana. It’s like I’ve been saying—I had no idea he was yours. How could I possibly know something like that? You should know better than anyone why we’re supposed to report these things. Tell me, what if Jack would have killed someone?”

For the first time in the last fifteen minutes, Paro felt that his point had finally been made, indicative by the twinge of guilt he saw creep into Alana’s youthful face. The years had been kind to her. Paro hoped he still looked that young at forty-five.

Alana had been willing to put off this discussion yesterday, and Paro owed her the chance to be heard out. She had spent the last few nights in a room parallel to Jack’s, where she and Michael had tried to teach him little bits of things here and there. He was learning slowly, but he was still making some progress.

“Jack would never do something like that, Paro. You’ve only known him for a little over two days, and even you must already be sure of it.”

They were in the planning room, alone. Paro had sent everyone on one errand or another, and he was glad to see that the situation was being diffused. Not long after Jack’s humiliating defeat, Alana had ripped the planning room door right off the hinges and sent it hurling at him. She had even brought a basket full of pots, pans, and other painful objects that he had been forced to deal with. She was rarely angered, but as Paro so vividly recalled, when her temper was sparked it was even worse than Paro’s usual sporadic outbursts. Luckily, she’d only damaged the door and not the equipment in the room. It was easily repaired.

She hadn’t been willing to let things rest, but Paro had managed to convince her to at least give him until early the next morning to work everything out. So, here she was.

“I am sure of it. I’m sure that he’d never willingly hurt another person. But, Alana, this kid didn’t know what he was doing. Even an environmentalist can step on a bug and never know it happened. Look, I respect you, more than you will ever know. I’ll never forget how you yanked me by the ear and took me away from that Op. team. Not a day goes by that I don’t feel grateful to be a force for helping people rather than slaughtering them.”

Paro shuddered as he remembered some of his older, more violent days. He was only Jack’s age when he started with the Psych-Operatives. He never knew what it was Alana had seen in him then, but she beat him to a pulp and dragged him away from that team. It was years until he was able to properly thank her.

If Paro wanted, he could bring her up on so many charges for the last few days alone—let alone for not reporting her child—that she’d spend years in one of the facilities. But Paro had never been the “reporting” type. If he could deal with a situation, then he dealt with it. From the bottom of his heart, Paro felt that only the truly wicked needed to be locked away.

“You know why I couldn’t report him, Paro. Why I still think this is a bad idea.” She walked away from Paro. He was sitting casually in his leather chair. Turning away from him, she lowered her voice to a distant whisper.

“Sebastian still hasn’t found him.”

Paro shook his head, dismayed to have this brought up again. “We can’t bring him home, Alana. Not yet. Sebastian can take care of himself, and besides, he knew very well what he was getting into when he decided to take on an Unrestricted.”

Paro knew why she turned around—she didn’t want him to see her tears.

“He comes home maybe once every few years, Paro,” she sobbed. “Jack barely knows him. How long has it been now? He’s been chasing this man since before you were even part of the organization, so you couldn’t possibly understand. If that man ever came to the discovery of Sebastian’s child, if he found out about Jack … Do you have any idea what I would do if something happened to my baby?”

“I do understand, Alana. But you’ve actually endangered him more by not telling me about him. And not just himself, but you’ve put at risk everyone around him that could have been hurt by his abilities.”

Alana sobbed into her sleeve. Wiping her eyes with the cuff of her black shirt, she whipped around and faced Paro. It was as if not a single moment of sadness had just crossed her eyes. She resumed her typical playful expression.

“Anyway, you’ve got him registered now, yes? I assume that means I can take him home? He’s missing school today, and I’d like to have him back for tomorrow’s classes. The longer he stays here, the more he’s going to think he’s allowed to ditch school. Let me tell you, Jack does not like going to his classes. I have to fight with him some mornings to get him out of bed.”

Paro laughed. “Trust me when I say that I believe you completely. I’ve only known him a short while, but I already think I know how his mind works. Of everything that I have said to him, of all the shocking revelations I’ve made, I think the one thing that’ll remain on the top of his mind, even above all other things, is that I told him he’d be here for a few more days. Seeing that fight with Melissa, I can tell he’s got a pretty good idea of what all this is about, and I don’t need to keep him here any longer. But I can only imagine how disappointed he’s going to be when he finds out he’ll be back in school on Friday, bright and early in the morning.”

Alana joined Paro in smiling and walked over to playfully ruffle his dark hair. “Well, ya definitely got that right, Paro. He probably thought this would drag on and last him until next week. That’s definitely the way he thinks.”

A knock on the door snapped them both to attention, and Paro stood up to open it. “Melissa, please, come in.”

Melissa entered, wearing the same devilish grin Paro was used to seeing on Michael. “Hey, Mrs. Harris, it’s nice to see you again so soon. Sorry about lying to you the other night, I didn’t exactly have much of a choice at the time. ”

Alana waved her hand at the remark. “Don’t worry, hun. It’s perfectly fine. I’m happy to see you too. My son has a crush on you something fierce, but don’t tell him I said that, because he’d lose it.”

Melissa blushed and ignored the comment. “Anyway, Alana, do you think you could give me a ride back today? I don’t feel like waiting on the team, and they’re going to be held up for a while.”

Ok, Paro thought. Here we go. This part is critical. We need to keep her close to Jack.

Alana’s face lit up. “Oh, of course! It will be lovely to have you. I’d be glad to give you a ride home. There’s more than enough room in my minivan, and we can have some girl-talk. Just give my son a slap on the back of the head if he tries to interrupt us in one of his many God-awful superhero rants. Did he ever try that with you?”

Melissa beamed with the shared experience. “Oh, like thirty times, Mrs. Harris.”

“Please, call me Alana.”

“Okay then, Alana. So, where was I? Oh yeah, you’ve got no idea. He spent twenty minutes trying to teach me about some war that took place with spider-man or something. Anyone know what I’m talking about? I think it was, ‘A Crisis on Earth’ or something ridiculous. Paro?”

Paro shook his head—he didn’t have a clue.

“It’s actually kind of cute, Alana. He’s even got these cards that have like, strengths and stuff and he fights other people’s cards. It’s amazing what some boys are into.”

Alana nearly doubled over with laughter. “Oh yeah, that’s his ‘Magic the Gathering’ game. You don’t know how much money he gets me to spend on those silly little pieces of cardboard. And it’s confusing, too. He tried to show it to me once. He was all like, ‘Hey, Ma! You can’t summon that one. It’s a four-four flying trampling beast-thingy.’ I’ve got no idea what he’s talking about when he and Adam are up to that nonsense. Oh, and that’s going to be an issue too. We’ve gotta make sure he keeps his mouth shut.”

Listening to them speak of such, Paro felt a small pinch of anxiety. Jack was among the least-capable liars Paro could envision. In fact, Paro wouldn’t believe that Jack was capable of fibbing his way out of Jury Duty. But Jack had given his word that he wouldn’t mention anything about their current case to his mother, and Alana had no reason to be suspicious. As long as Jack kept his mouth shut—which was the dangerous part—they’d be fine. Jack was quite the troublesome individual, but despite it all, Paro believed that deep down Jack wanted to end these killings as much as he himself did. Paro was certain the boy would make a real effort to prevent anything from slipping, and due to his easily distracted nature, he’d probably forget what all of this was about the first time a song he liked played on the radio.

“Alana, I think its best you take them home soon,” Paro said.

Alana looked over to Paro. She had a mischievous, sly glint in her eyes.

“It’s Friday, yes? It’s not even six a.m. yet. If we leave now and beat the traffic, I might be able to get Jack back to school in time for at least half a day of classes. Oh boy, I’m almost looking forward to seeing the look on his face when we tell him. Does that make me a bad mother?”

In unison, Melissa and Paro shrugged. They looked at each other for a short moment, and then they both burst out laughing. “Melissa and I feel the same way, so we’re just as bad as you.”

Paro picked up the repaired intercom off his desk—he was going to enjoy this. “Margaret, wake up the Harris-kid and send him in, please.”

For nearly ten full minutes, the three of them struggled, exerting their utmost will-power to keep from laughing hysterically. The result was that they stood with tight-lips in silence. By the eleventh minute, the first of Jack’s shouts could be heard as the sounds of his loud voice neared them.

“I hate you! I’m so damned tired, just one more hour. Please, just one more hour, that’s all I want. Fine, then just five more minutes. Get off me, Ahh! Let me go back to bed. I need sleep. I’ll die unless you give me three more minutes. I thought you were my friend, Margaret. You’re mean. You lied to me. You said that if I needed anything, I just had to ask. Well, I need sleep! Let me go back. Just one more minute, JUST ONE MORE MINUTE!”

The door slammed open, and Margret entered with a fierce look of frustration on her elderly face. Paro wasn’t positive, but she seemed to have double the wrinkles on her poor face than she did the last time Paro had seen her.

“This one is your problem now. I dragged him here, so now you deal with him. I recommend horse tranquilizer for this one.”

From what Alana had told Paro, the only time Jack was ever truly angered was when he wasn’t allowed to sleep. Jack scratched his head, and rubbed his sandy eyes. The boy looked positively miserable. His usually messy hair was even more so, and he had sleep-lines on his face. It was comical how miserable and angry he looked.

Paro cleared his throat. “Jack, good news, you’re going home, and guess what? You’ve got ten minutes to take a shower and get dressed. You know why? Because your mom wants you to make at least half or more of the school day. Isn’t that great, Jack? You can make it in time for school after all!”

Never in Paro’s life had he appreciated or liked being yelled at. In fact, it numbered highly on the list of things he most despised. But for the first time in his (granted) short life, he felt it was more than worth it in exchange for the explosion of misery and torment from the Harris-kid.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? School? Are you kidding me, Paro? NO! I've got like, magic now. What good is school anymore? You can't do this to me, damnit!”

Paro couldn’t help it. It had been years since he laughed this hard. Melissa looked like she was having an issue simply remaining on her feet, and Alana had already fallen off hers.

“I can handle it from here, Paro,” Alana said between deep breaths. “Let’s go, mister, and we’re not stopping home for anything. Straight to school with you!”

Jack looked like he had just been told the world was ending. Paro had never seen a look of such discontent and misery on someone’s face, especially over something so stupid.

“I’m not going anywhere!” Jack protested.

Melissa glowered at him. “Oh yes you are! I’ve got a test today, buster, and you’re not making me miss it. So I can either drag you with me and your mom, or you can hurry up, ‘cause if we don’t leave now we won’t make it in time for school. And don’t even think of using that as an excuse to take your sweet time.”

Now Jack look confused. “But … it’s only a short flight. What’s the big deal?”

Jack was not going to like what Paro had to say next. He was careful not to mention anything about the killings in front of Alana.

“Jack, the helicopter is only for emergencies and extraction. We needed to bring you here quickly, and we didn’t have time to waste. We don’t just bust out a chopper every time someone needs to travel back and forth between Manhattan. Do you know how expensive that is? Gas prices have skyrocketed.”

“So, let me get this straight, you guys. I have to go to school today, and I don’t even get to parachute into class like I’ve always dreamed of doing? You guys suck, all of you. Leave me alone.”

Jack stormed off, and Melissa chased after him.

“You suck more!” she yelled on his heels, reminding Paro that despite her maturity, she was still just a kid.

“Kids,” Alana said.

“Indeed.”

****

“Why?” the dying man asked.

What a dumb question. The only why that anyone should ever ask is why people ask why. Ruin didn’t have to answer these rodents. It was his choice, and he had made it. He had decided that this person’s right to live had been revoked. It was Ruin’s choice to make—his decision. There didn’t need to be a why. People annoyed him sometimes.

“Darling, let’s give him a free appendix removal,” Requiem purred. She placed a soft hand on Ruin’s face, covering his eyes and letting him see as she did. Within moments, his sister’s Telepathy projected the images into his mind. He could see capillaries and the man’s inner workings.

The fool’s screams were intense. Blood dripped from his mouth while he was torn from the inside-out. Luckily, no one would be around the park area this early in the morning, so they could have as much fun with the man as they wanted.

They didn’t bother to find out his name, and why would they? They were bored and this looked like something fun to do at the time. Besides, Ruin didn’t like bald people. They reminded him of someone he despised.

The bald, middle-aged man shuffled side to side, rolling on the ground and clutching his stomach. “P-please,” he begged, “no more.”

“I am growing bored with this, Dearest Brother. Can we end him and look for someone else to play with?”

Ruin frowned. “Sister, he’s first starting to show us how loud he can yell. Do you really want to stop now?”

Requiem had been acting off these last few days. This was usually her favorite part. With a shrug, he turned to face his sister. “Oh, very well, but I want to do it myself this time. I’ve never tried it.”

“But what about the evidence, Darling?”

“Forget the evidence—who can stop us?”

Ruin pulled a small knife from the side of his loose-fitting jeans and crouched down in front of the wailing man. With his left hand, he lifted up the man’s head, tilting up his neck as much as it would go.

“I know how to make him stop screaming,” he joked.

Slowly, so as to enjoy each moment, Ruin ran the blade deeply across the man’s throat. He didn’t expect the blood to gush all over him the way it did, but he had to admit it was actually kind of cool. The man’s screams diminished into half-hearted gurgles, as if he were choking or drowning in water. As the light left his eyes, Ruin rose back to his feet and turned towards his sister.

“More fun than I thought it would be,” he said.

“Dear me, brother, but you’re covered in blood. You need to get rid of those clothes and clean yourself up. You look like you’ve been swimming in a pool of the stuff.”

Ruin shrugged. All in all, it wasn’t as fun as their usual method, but it was still a unique experience. Maybe he should have Andy try it sometime? Thinking of which, he hoped their new brother was holding up well. They were going to need him to help catch the Harris-kid and kill all the other fools.