Fake Tales

Chapter 26- The Beginning

Chapter 26- The Beginning

"Why don't I just ring her and ask her myself?" Morton said. I choked on the breath I had so unwittingly been holding in during his silence. Tom's face was blank, but I supposed he stood up taller, preparing himself for what was to come. I fumbled for my phone as Morton fingers moved defly across the screen of Tom's, my heart pounded, but I turned it to silent just in time. All I could hear was the steady thump of my blood flow pumping in my ears. Lubb-dubb, lubb-dubb. Eyes squeezed shut in silent prayer, I willed for the vibrate function on my phone to not be the end of me. To make sure, I broke the contact between my torso and the cold stone wall, predicting how the sound would echo.

Then another voice, one that carried a different sense of authority to that of Morton's, spoke out:

"There'll be no need for that" I looked up, seeing Morton freeze in surprise, a rare look of shock that seemed out of place on his thin face. My first instinct was fear: anyone that could produce such a look upon Morton's face was surely intimidating. My eyes searched for the source of the sound, hardly willing myself to believe it.

"I should have known" Morton smiled at the figure, who was still obscured by darkness. I squinted, but the dark was all-encompassing: there was no way through it. Somehow, he seemed more frightening when smiling.There was no warmth or emotion, simply a twist of the mouth. The boys moved as if to grab the approaching figure, but Morton raised a hand to stop them. Some appeared a mixture of disgruntled and confused, whilst the rest were relieved. One boy stood out: he was by the far the youngest in the room- around 13 or 14, who looked wearily at the scene playing out before his eyes.

"Give Tom the phone back" the voice ordered, anger filling it's tone. Morton's smirk grew to a full-blown grin and I held back the need to smack it away.

"Why? What is she to you?" He taunted, but something told me he was unnerved by whoever it was. His eyes ran the person up and down, flitting restlessly as he took each step closer.

"That's irrelevant" He snapped. "She has nothing to do with what you're doing here" He said and the firey tone to his voice was what identified him, even before he came into view.

The sight of him almost sent my knees buckling to the floor. I clutched my chest from the agony of it, knowing I was on the brink of falling apart. In my mind, I was standing on a knife edge- watching the events of my life through a window pane, as if weren't my own. Numbly, I realised that I had never truly believed he could be alive until he was here before me. Part of me felt a glorious swell of happiness unlike anything I'd ever experienced, but this burst of ultra-bright sunlight was dampened by rainclouds. Why did both of them have to be in danger?

His hair was almost chin-length, and tangled, but the copper sheen to it was unmistakable. In the darkness, his cheeks seemed hollower than before, making him look older. If I hadn't known it was him, then I was certain I would not have recognised him. A pang of sadness hit me as I saw how different he appeared, how the time seemed to have ravaged him. And yet, it was still undeniably him. Alive and well. The answer to every question I had asked myself over the past couple of months and even those that I had never even dared to utter.

"Oh, but I think she does. Do you expect me to believe that she knows nothing about our operation here?" Morton demanded.

"No I don't, but it's the truth" Greg stated. "You need to let Tom go now" He added reasonably, his tone suggesting this conversation was something one would talk about over tea. Morton laughed and the hairs on my arms stood to attention at the maniacal edge to it.

"Make me Ginger" He mocked challengingly.

"Perhaps this will help convince you" Greg pulled something out that I couldn't see and offered it to him. Morton frowned and took it with more force than was necessary.