I kept telling myself that I only stayed because I didn't want to catch a fever. I knew that wasn't the only reason why, though. Jacob had to stay, which practically guilt tripped me into staying. He was the only connection between their world and ours, through Abe's bloodline.
After the confrontation, Miss Peregrine sent Jake off to see the children then offered to prepare me some tea to calm down. Of course, I burnt my tongue as I took my first sip, as I had had only a few experiences with tea and had no idea how long to wait before it was the right temperature. Burning my tongue on Miss Peregrine's chamomile tea, however, was a much better experience than Kev's too bitter coffee.
It wasn't until after dinnertime that I finally moved from the kitchen. I had fallen asleep for about an hour in between Miss Peregrine's departure from the room and dinner, and by the time I'd woken up - fifteen minutes before dinner was served, my tea was cold. I was fine with it, though - at least it would sooth my aching tongue. Millard seemed to have made a habit of sitting next to me, and I was in no place to object. I was surprised I was receiving any hospitality at all after my outburst. I was immensely grateful, to say the least.
After dinner, Millard asked me to join him in the study, where I'd painted his portrait. Instead, I suggested the small spare room with the piano in it, as I was hoping to lighten the somber mood with some half-assed piano playing. As I expected, he didn't object. We walked there in silence, though somewhere along the way our hands managed to bump and tangle themselves together - not that either of us minded.
As soon as we arrived, I nearly ran to the piano, then sat down and ran my fingers over the perfect ivory keys. Millard chuckled a little at my enthusiasm, but I didn't care. I rather loved the piano - I'd always had a fascination with them, and the music they produced was always so beautiful - well, except if the person playing was a shitty pianist. Without any more delay, I began playing.
"You may remember this one," I said as I played the first few notes, simple as they were. Millard's eyes brightened immediately as he recognized the tune, and he began to sing.
"Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run run. Bang, bang, bang goes the farmer's gun. He'll get by without his rabbit pie so run rabbit, run rabbit, run!" We both laughed as I plunked out the last few notes, ending the song. He leaned against the piano, just near enough that we both could have spoken in whispers and heard each other fine.
"You've got a great voice," I commented. "If only you knew the rest of the songs I can play."
Millard smiled and looked down, perhaps because he might have been uncomfortable with the praise. "Thank you, Kallie, though I'd much rather express my talent of writing. I find my voice quite sub-par, actually." At his words, my eyes widened.
"Are you kidding me? You're better than me, that's no doubt. I mean, you're better than half the singers in my time. Though I suppose I'm biased, 'cause I only really like classic rock, and I happen to really like-" I cut myself off, realizing what I was about to say.
"You happen to really like what?" Millard inquired, and I was sure he knew what I was really going to say - I really like him.
There was no denying the fact that lately, I'd been feeling something other than general likeness for him. I had gotten defensive whenever anyone mentioned us being more than friends; like when Olive and Claire were teasing me, or when Jacob commented on our squabble about my foul mouth. Maybe I wanted to avoid those feelings?
Well of course I did! The guy was basically seventy years older than me, so, of course, I was going to try not to feel anything like that for him. But it was so damn hard. His passion about his book and his thirst for knowledge were things I wasn't usually attracted to, but those traits were admirable in him, to say the least. Not to mention his charming tone and pleasing aesthetics. I knew there was a lot he could teach me, and I was always open to learning - learning was fun when I didn't have a mandatory test every week. I suppose I really did like him...
I shook my head, trying to dismiss the conversation. "Never mind, it's stupid. Now, where was I?" With that, I launched into a sloppy rendition of Victor's Piano Solo from 'Corpse Bride'. I'd hardly played ten notes before Millard placed a hand over mine and sat down next to me, cutting me off. I was slightly uncomfortable at the sudden closeness between us and my mouth grew suddenly dry. I licked my lips nervously.
"You really like what?" he asked again, this time with much more intensity in his voice than before. I looked into his eyes - gleaming and golden-brown, like sunlight shining through a glass of whiskey.
"You," I whispered, finally looking away. He lifted his hand off mine and instead held my cheek, lifting my head to meet his gaze once more. He didn't say anything. Instead, our faces were drifting slowly closer. Just when I could feel the presence of his lips in front of mine, someone coughed.
We turned immediately to face Emma, Jake standing awkwardly behind her. A light pink blush rushed up my neck and flooded onto my cheeks. Emma had a smirk on her face and her arms were crossed over her chest. "Are we interrupting something?" she asked. Millard and I both shook our heads, though she really was. "Well, this is your last chance, Mill. Are you coming or not?"
"I've already told you, I will take no part in this. You know it's against the rules - I'm not going to risk the chance of death," he replied, leading me to very confused. What the hell were they talking about?
"Well, then, it's your loss," she replied, uncrossing her arms. "Carry on." She and Jacob took off down the hall.
"I really don't think it is!" Millard shouted after them in response before turning back to me. "I must apologize, I wasn't expecting that at all. I wasn't really expecting any of this, actually."
I smiled, then looking around the room, as I'd nearly forgotten where we were. "The same goes for me. What was that about, anyway?" Millard swallowed, which made me grow nervous immediately. This time, however, it was more of a 'what-the-hell-is-going-on' nervous than an 'I'm-embarrassed-that-you'll-hate-me-forever-if-I-tell-you-I-like-you' nervous.
"Emma, Jacob, Enoch, and Bronwyn are all sneaking out to speak with the dead bloke on your side of the loop. We all think he was murdered by a hollow, that's no surprise, but they want to find out first hand." I furrowed my eyebrows.
"Well, that seems kind of dumb. How would they do that without me? I'm the one who can actually speak to his ghost," I pointed out. It was Millard's turn to be confused.
"Don't you know that Enoch can bring things back to life?" I thought back to the show they all put on and recalled Enoch bringing to life a clay man by inserting a mouse heart into it.
My eyes lit up as I remembered. "Oh, yeah! Duh, how could I forget?"
"I knew you would remember," Millard replied. When I looked at his face, I was expecting a smug smile, but instead, it was warm and proud - not in a rude sense, but the way a teacher does when a student got their fifth A in a row. I smiled right back.
"Alright, well, I understand now." I sat silently for a minute, then frowned as I realized something else. "It kind of hurts, though, that they didn't ask me to come along. I suppose this plan was created while I was in the kitchen calming down?" Now Millard nodded, and I grimaced a little.
"If it hurts, I suppose I could kiss it better," Millard said out of nowhere.
My immediate reaction came in the form of laughter. "I would never expect a pick-up line that smooth coming from you," I said, a wide smile on my face. It was reflected on his, though I wasn't very surprised.
"Is that a yes?" he asked, throwing in a wink for good measure. My nod was slightly subdued as I leaned forward, at last meeting his lips with mine. There were no fireworks - as that was very unrealistic - but there was a loud boom, which immediately made us part; the first bomb of the night had just fallen. We shared a look and laughed, but as Millard leaned back in I leaned away, winking coyly before I began playing Victor's Piano Solo again. He pouted but let me, listening intently and clapping when it was over.
We continued on like that - me playing and him listening - until another boom sounded - one that wasn't a bomb. I immediately stopped playing and stood up, Millard following my lead as we made our way through the hallways to the front of the house. I stopped him at the corner before we entered the foyer and peeked around the corner to see the large man standing there. He had a gun in one hand, the other clamped tightly over Claire's mouth. Everyone else was there, shocked into silence as he raised the gun to Claire's head. I turned back around the corner.
"Millard, it's terrible, the guy who we think killed Martin's here. He's got a gun and he's gonna shoot Claire," I explained in the quietest whisper I could manage in my panicked state. "There's a cage on the floor next to him, I think he's going to take Miss Peregrine and Miss Avocet! Thank god she's taking a rest right now..." I trailed off when I realized Millard was removing his shirt. "What are you doing?"
"I'm sorry, Kallie, but our only hope of getting out alive is if I can follow him. I can't do that by being modest. Now, hurry, get out there and stop him." I nodded and was about to step into the foyer when I realized something. I turned on my heel and kissed him.
"Just in case I never see you again," I murmured, then turned and stepped into the large man's line of view. "Stop!" I cried, just as Claire's backmouth bit his arm and he let her go. In a flash, he changed his aim and fired in my direction.
White hot pain rushed through my arm as the bullet grazed by, but the slight click it made as it fell to the ground let me knew that it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I crumpled to my knees, grasping my left arm. The feeling of warm blood dripping through my fingers was unsettling, but I knew I couldn't back down. Hugh let out a cry, and at first, I thought it was for me, but I looked up to see that he was the man's next hostage. He tried fighting, but the man - I guess it was safe to assume he was a wight - knocked him in the head with his gun, rendering Hugh unconscious.
Fiona was the first to let out a loud cry, and I felt Millard rest a hand on my back. I looked at his face and smiled weakly before he helped me up. Thank god the wight had other preoccupations, or he would have been able to tell there was one more person in the room. I stumbled forward, Millard as my guide, though he stepped back as soon as Miss Peregrine and Miss Avocet raced down the stairs.
Everything was hazy, and more pain seared through my scalp as the man grabbed my hair and pulled, bringing me over to the basement. I noticed that everyone else was already gathering on the stairs, scared into submission. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was the wight's face smiling down at me - a smile I remembered from somewhere. Of course - it was my 'old friend', Carl.
---
I awoke in a dimly lit setting, my left upper-arm throbbing. I looked at it to see that my blood-stained sweater sleeve had been ripped off and was now binding the wound. "She's awake!" a little girl - Olive - cried out, alerting the others of my newly redeemed consciousness. I was greeted with cries of relief from the others, which were hardly coherent in my still foggy brain. My situation was worsened when a bright light came from above.
"That's it, I'm going to heaven," I murmured, but Hugh - conscious again as well - let out a breathy laugh of relief.
"It ain't heaven, but there sure are angels!" My eyes finally focused, so I looked up to see our saviors. There stood Enoch and Bronwyn, covered in mud and blood, though I was almost positive that wasn't because of gunshots.
The next ten minutes were still blurry, as I was still suffering from blood loss, but the others took the liberty of explaining what had happened. Bronwyn had just begun to explain what was happening when something clicked in my mind. "Millard! Where's Millard?" I asked, suddenly alert. Was he okay? Had he managed to follow the wight ?
"I... I don't know, perhaps he escaped and followed the wight?" Claire suggested, and I swear I could have hugged her.
"That little bugger..." I muttered, a small smile growing on my face. Before long, we had made our way to the harbor, where Hugh suspected the wight would have gone. After all, it was the only way to get off the island, which is what we all assumed he would want to do, now that he had the birds. What he wanted them for, however, was still a mystery.
I almost cried when I saw Millard pacing at the treeline. I started to run, stumbling in my slightly-dizzy state; I was still losing blood. He noticed the group of us as soon as he turned around to begin pacing again. I didn't even care that he was still naked - as soon as he was in reach, I hugged him. "I'm so glad you're alright, Kallie," he murmured in my ear as he held me - if he hadn't been there to steady me, I might have fainted again after all that running. "He took Emma's boat, and he's going in circles," he said, louder, and I noticed that everyone else had finally caught up.
Enoch had a smirk on his face and I realized how stupid I must have looked hugging what would appear to them as nothing. I handed Millard his clothes, though he only tied his shirt around his waist, hiding only what needed to be hidden most. "What, is he waiting for something?" Horace asked, still looking upset about the fact that we had been held captive. We watched as the wight - I refused to refer to him by his real name unless it was necessary - pulled the boat onto the rocks by the lighthouse - clearly, the waves had grown too rough for him.
"I think so, he was muttering something about 'hoping they were still here'. I shudder to imagine who 'they' are," Millard replied, sniffing once as a display of distaste. "Where are Emma and Jacob?"
Bronwyn gasped. "We've forgotten about them! We gotta go find them!" she cried, keeping her voice down for fear of the wight hearing her. However, due to the rising tides and falling bombs, I highly doubted that was possible. Before long, she, Enoch, and Hugh had left to go find our wayward friends.
In the meantime, as it didn't seem right to plan anything without five of our number, we decided to move closer to where the wight had stolen Emma's boat and cast off. We all huddled behind a large clump of grass as we waited, and Millard decided to check on my bullet wound while I explained that I knew the wight. Of course Carl had 'noticed' something about me that was similar to Abe - he knew we were both peculiar. I could bet my life that he killed Abe himself, or at least set a hollow on him.
My wound was still oozing blood when he removed the makeshift bandage, making my nauseous, but the bleeding had also gone down significantly. It hadn't made a hole - it merely grazed a sliver of the outer circumference of my upper arm. Any father over and it might have formed a hole or gotten lodged in my bone - or splintered it. Millard wiped more blood away from the wound and re-wrapped my sweater around it, willing it to start to seal up.
We looked back out over the water to see the wight - I refused to refer to him as Carl - where he had been before - on the rocks by the lighthouse. Not even five minutes later, the search party came back, Emma and Jake in tow. They made their way over to us and kept their heads low, careful to not be seen by the wight. We had the whole group - save for Miss Peregrine and Miss Avocet. Now all we needed was a plan to take that goddamn wight down.