“Want to play Siege?”
Justin inwardly groans at those four words. Had they been from anyone else, he would have leapt on the opportunity.
But this is Mara.
She gives him a challenging look, her stunning gold eyes sharp and playful as her head tilts to the side. Her beautiful chestnut hair shifts along her shoulder, having been severely bound by the ponytail.
Ever since he had first met her, he had thought her to be unattainable. However, he now knows she is weird and untouchable – literally. He still doesn’t get how she could be as skilled as their instructor in the martial arts.
Justin rolls his eyes, trying not to let his excitement show at seeing his father’s keys on the counter. “You always wanna play Siege.” He racks his brain, trying to think of a way to keep her from suspecting his absentmindedness. She doesn’t know Dad is gonna propose! “Maybe we could change the rules – ”
Mara laughs, an oddly warm sound. She shoves at his shoulder, and his mind blanks as he feels an electrical zap from the oblivious girl. It was stronger than just static, and for as long as Justin has known her, she has done this – on accident, of course. She hated it when it happened.
“…to be able to shoot over them,” she finishes as he slowly focuses on her again after the initial shock.
Recognizing the subject despite missing the majority of what she had said, he huffs. “Seriously, though. How did you and yer dad come up with something so complicated?”
I need to stall, he thinks sluggishly, trying to clear his brain after that electrical shock. I can’t let her know she had done it again.
Mara shrugs, oblivious. Either Justin has gotten good at bluffing or she is just distracted once again with her father’s sketchbook. “I don’t know.”
Justin snorts, using the action to disguise his gulp of air. “I bet Settlers of Catan or Risk wouldn’t be on your wish list for your birthday, would it? They ain’t nearly as hard as this.”
Mara raises an eyebrow, looking oddly… regal. Her smirk gives a hint of her cocky, arrogant side. “I love all strategy games, even Battleship.”
Justin squashes the usual bout of awe he gets anytime Mara smiles like that. “Just you wait, I’ll surprise you with the best gift ever this June!”
Leaning against the counter, Mara cradles her chin in her hand, eyeing the book with a look Justin is now used to.
I couldn’t imagine losing my dad that way, he thinks, remembering the story of how the lost hunters had thought Shokain was kidnapping the little Mara. When the hunter had went to shoot the man’s leg, his comrade freaked out and grabbed the gun. It had went off and shifted just enough that the bullet had hit Shokain’s lungs and heart. The hunters had vanished, never to be seen again.
It had all been an accident, yet the consequences were permanent.
Scrambling for something to say to break the melancholy, he murmurs, “Yer dad was really good.”
Mara brushes her fingers over the graphite image of a ruined town before flipping to an aerial view. “Yup. Wanna play, then?”
He grins, a plan formulating. “If I win, you gotta start calling me brother,” he exclaims, knowing she will have to eventually, anyway.
“When I win,” Mara begins, and Justin’s stomach falls. “You should ask Claurice out.”
His cheeks warm up. Claurice is a very pretty petite brunette in their self-defense class. Despite being on the football team and pretty decent in his classes, he still hasn’t worked up the courage to ask her out.
Thump.
Justin and Mara glance through the kitchen to the interconnecting hallway on the other side. No more sounds come from the back of the house, and Justin feels a little self-conscious and embarrassed.
“Mom?” Mara calls out, a small hint of a frown marring her face.
No response.
She steps into the kitchen. Justin moves to stop her before remembering that electrical shock. “Hey, I think we should just leave them alone.”
“Maybe…” she mumbles. He sighs in relief as she turns to the living room again. “Let’s turn on some – ”
Bang.
Justin’s eyes widen. Had someone broken into the house before they had gotten there? His hand slips into his pocket, reaching for his cell phone as he sidles closer to Mara. They approach the door cautiously, though Justin doesn’t hear any more noises. His finger hesitates over the “call” button as Mara drills a hole into the doorknob with her eyes.
Something shatters on the floor.
Before he could stop her, Mara opens the door, revealing the elaborate bedroom that makes Justin feel as if he is in an upper-class house, not a country cottage. However, that isn’t what shocks him. The phone slips from his hand just as he reflexively mashes the “call” button.
His father is strangling Ezra.
“Wha’daya think yer doin’ in here?” Bryce slurs. Justin nearly gags at the stench; it smells almost like a carcass basted in his cousin’s favorite sweet honey and berry liquor. He holds a pistol in his hand.
Dad’s never owned a pistol.
“Dad! Let her go!” Justin orders his father. He is drunk; that has to be it. It’s the only explanation why he is acting this way. But even with that thought, Justin’s voice still trembles.
He doesn’t see his father’s hand move.
Whack.
Justin stumbles backward, rubbing his already-bruising cheek. Staggering on something in the floor, he glances down to stare at his cracked phone just as the screen turns black from the “911” screen.
I wonder if it went through…
Bryce’s gun knocks into the dresser next to him. Seeing an opening between Mara and Bryce, he lunges forward and does what a football player does best: tackle. He takes it a step further, though, and twists his father’s arms behind his back.
I never thought I would use these techniques on Dad, Justin thinks briefly, gritting his teeth as Mara uses his father like a sandbag. It takes every ounce of him to keep from stopping her.
Suddenly, Bryce rams his head forward and strikes Mara’s hip bone. Before Justin could ask if she is all right, his father breaks free and turns toward him.
The look in his eyes is nothing like Justin has ever seen before. He is caught in that dead, empty look. The next thing he knows, he is flying across the room before crashing into something.
His head strikes the mirror and he blacks out.
A loud gunshot wakes him up. Groaning, he touches his head; his hand comes away sticky and red.
Seven years bad luck, crosses his mind briefly. His eyes focus on the scene in front of him.
A red flower blossoms on Mara’s side.
Rage takes over, giving him tunnel vision. How dare his father hurt the untouchable Mara? How dare he lay a hand on her? Mara is the prettiest, smartest, and most unattainable person in existence; he should know.
She had been his first crush, after all.
He charges at his father, his anger coming out through his lungs and muscles as he uses everything he has learned in his Judo class with Mara.
“Get out of here!” Justin orders them, seeing that Ezra is awake again. He pours all of his strength into an upwards kick, slamming it into his father’s crotch. “Sorry.”
Bryce hunches over, looking to be in pain as Mara and Ezra escape. However, as soon as they are gone, an odd chuckle emerges from his lips.
Justin takes a hesitant step back, unsettled. “D-dad?”
The strangely dead eyes meet his. “You are so… fragile,” he rasps, his words sounding weird and foreign. No way… a different accent? Justin questions, not quite sure. “Get out of my way, Earthling.”
“No.” Justin braces himself, trying not to go crazy at all of the odd events happening around him. “What did you do to my father?”
“He is dead.”
Whack.
He didn’t see the blow coming.
~ • ~
Justin awakens to a paramedic hovering over him, looking grim. “He’s awake.”
“Huh?” Justin groans intelligently as the paramedic helps him sit upright.
“Justin,” Officer Wilkinson greets him, his face kind with an underlying layer of grief. Justin focuses on the familiar face. “It was you who called, wasn’t it? What happened?”
Justin struggles to get up but collapses on the floor, nearly retching. “Agh…”
“You have a mild concussion,” the paramedic says gently. “Just take it easy. Do you remember what had hit you?”
“Yeah.” Justin swallows bile, gritting his teeth. “Mr. Blake, please, you need to find Mara. My Dad, he – ” He covers his mouth with the back of his hand, a tear slipping free as he says the impossible. “He shot her.”
Officer Wilkinson takes a slow breath, his expression revealing that he is connecting the dots to what he has seen thus far. “So that’s whose blood that was.”
Justin stares at him with wide eyes. “Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay.”
“Justin, I need you to tell me what happened first.” Officer Wilkinson’s voice is hard and clipped.
Justin squeezes his eyes shut tightly. This has to be a nightmare, he thinks to himself. “Me and Mara had gotten back from Judo. I knew Dad was here; he had told me he was planning on-on proposing to Ezra.” He covers his face with a hand. “He had a pistol. He… never owned a pistol before today, though. I would have known.”
“What happened next?”
Justin takes a deep breath. The paramedic is now examining the wound on the back of his head. “Mara-Mara tried to keep him from strangling Ezra. He knocked me into the mirror. It… knocked me out for a bit.” He hesitates, the next part coming out as a breath. “When I woke up, Mara had been shot. Here.” His hand barely touches his side before flinching away like he had the wound himself.
Officer Wilkinson looks utterly despondant. “And then?”
Justin shakes his head. “I tried to keep him from following them, but he hit me with the gun.” Pausing, he contemplates telling them that it wasn’t really his father; that someone – no, something had been controlling him.
No, that’s just crazy.
“Anything else?” The officer’s voice is gentler.
“No.” Justin is careful to move slowly as he leans forward. “Where’s my dad? A-and Mara and her mom? Are they okay?”
Officer Wilkinson eyes him for a moment before saying grimly, “I’m sorry, Justin, but your father killed himself in the front lawn. As for Ezra and Mara, they are gone. We can’t even figure out which way they went.”
Justin’s mind blanks. “… Dead? Dad would never – ” He cuts himself off, frustrated and even scared. He didn’t know if his father had been capable of such a horrendous act, but then again… something had been controlling him. He just knows it.
Something that had called him Earthling.
“Officer Wilkinson.” A young man steps in, looking disturbed. “You need to come see this.”
“Show me.” Officer Wilkinson stands up.
Justin struggles to his feet, as well. “Take me with you.”
“No, Justin. I don’t want – ”
“I need to see him, Mr. Blake.” I won’t believe it otherwise.
Officer Wilkinson eyes him for a moment as if trying to judge what is best for his deceased friend’s son. “Suit yourself,” he finally grunts, walking down the hallway.
Justin follows after them, feeling as if he is dream-walking. Familiar and unfamiliar faces go through the house, investigating anything they might deem evidence. Stepping into the front lawn, Justin nearly falls to his knees at the still form lying in the grass.
It is his father.
“The bullet had went into his brain, but here’s what’s weird; it didn’t bleed. Also, it looks like the body had taken a pummeling after it had been dead for – well, hours.”
Justin barely registers what they are saying. He stares at the bloody smear against Ezra’s van; it was probably where Mara and Ezra had taken shelter.
“Justin.” Officer Wilkinson approaches him slowly, looking sympathetic. “Tell me what really happened.”
Justin gives him a flabbergasted look. “I did. Dad was acting weird; he shot Mara, and he even knocked me out! It was like – like – ”
He bites his lip. He doesn’t want to admit it.
“Like what, Justin?”
“You’ll think I’m crazy,” he whispers.
“Tell me, Justin, or I will have to take you into the station.”
Justin squeezes his eyes shut, wishing all of this was just a bad dream. “It was like he was possessed,” he whispers. “He even said he was dead. I didn’t understand it; I thought my mind was playin’ tricks on me.”
Nothing but silence meets his ears.
Cautiously, he looks up. Officer Wilkinson has a pitiful look on his face, as if he is thinking, ‘Poor boy, the shock got to him.’
But Justin knows what he had seen.
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