CHAPTER 14 #2
I rose to my feet, placing the key into the lock.
The crumpled notices fell to the floor as I pushed the door open with my shoulder, a creak echoing down the hallway.
I stepped in first, flipping the light switch out of habit.
Nothing. The bulb had given up long ago.
The air inside was stale; a thin coat of dust had settled over his belongings.
I didn’t say anything, just stepped inside with Squeeks following behind me, pushing the door closed.
She didn’t say anything either, just watched me move slowly through the flat.
It was exactly the same, my mind trying to recall the last time I was here.
The sagging sofa with a cigarette burn on the armrest. Chester's crumpled band hoodie was still draped over the back of the worn armchair. The cracked mug he used every morning remains on the windowsill, as if it had been waiting. But no one has been here, not for a long time.
Squeeks walked over to the bookshelf, running her finger across the spines.
“He was always reading weird stuff.” Letting out a playful huff, pulling one out at random.
Some worn paperback about conspiracy theories and time travel.
She smiled faintly and set it back where it belonged.
“You think he finally figured it out? You know the whole time-travel thing.”
I leaned myself against the opening to the living room, “If he did, I’m gonna be so pissed he didn’t take us with him.” She chuckled before pausing, noticing the smile fall from her face. I think it was the unanswered questions that hurt her the most.
I turned on the spot and walked into the kitchen. A single spoon in the sink, the tap still dripping like it had been back then. The silence settled deep in my chest. It wasn’t eerie. It was just empty.
“He really hasn’t been back,” I said, more to myself than her.
“No,” Squeeks replied softly, appearing behind me. “But it still feels like him. Like he just… stepped out for a bit.”
I looked around. There was no dust-disturbed trail, no recent smoke in the ashtray, no cryptic message waiting to be found—just Chester’s world, frozen. It was as if time had hit pause the day he left and never pressed play again.
Squeeks sat on the edge of the kitchen counter, her legs swinging lightly. “You think he’ll ever come back?”
I didn’t answer straight away. I just leaned against the fridge, letting my eyes fall on the scuffed floor tiles. “I don’t know. He didn’t leave a note. Didn’t say goodbye. Maybe that says it all.”
She nodded, her expression sullen. I think she was hoping for something, anything, to settle her own mind on what happened. For a while, we just sat there, letting the silence say what we couldn’t.
Eventually, I pushed off the fridge and headed for the door.
“Come on. There’s nothing here. I’ll hold on to the key so we can get in when needed.
” I tucked it into my pocket as I offered a small sympathetic smile.
Squeeks stayed in place a second longer, then slid down from the counter and followed me.
She paused in the doorway, giving one last glance around before pulling the door shut behind us.
We didn’t talk much on the walk back—just the soft scuff of our shoes on pavement, the occasional hum of a car passing.
Squeeks walked close, hands buried in the sleeves of the hoodie, eyes down on the pavement.
Chester’s absence weighed heavily on her now.
Now that we’d seen it, tangible and unchanged.
A final realisation that the chance of being saved by him was now fading in her mind.
We were cutting through the back alley behind the row of shops when I heard them. That dragging laugh, I’d recognise it anywhere.
“Oi, look who it is!” came a voice, sharp and smirking.
I turned, glancing at two of Danny’s lads leaning against the shuttered doorway of the office, Jord and that rat-faced one everyone called Lint, both reeking of weed and boredom.
“Little Screech and his baby sis.” Jord continued, swaying towards us with his arms outstretched. I was in no mood to deal with their bullshit today. I felt Squeeks tense beside me, tightening her sleeves over her hands as her shoulders curled in on themselves.
“Didn’t know Danny let his pets out unattended,” Lint said, lips twisting around a roll-up.
“She still cryin’ at parties? Didn’t see her last night.
I would have kept her company.” A dirty laughter setting out between them, Squeeks dropped her gaze.
My jaw tensed, a heavy breath forcing its way through my nose.
The grin slipped off Jord’s face just a little as I got closer.
“You got something to say about my sister, you say it to my face,” I said, my voice flat. Lint snorted.
“What, she too soft to handle a bit of banter?”
“She’s thirteen.” I snapped. “You’re nearly thirty and still sponging off Danny’s scraps, standing outside a shop that doesn’t even open anymore. So, who’s the mess, really?”
Jord stepped forward, puffing up like it would make a difference. A stupid decision on his part, knowing that if he decided to lay a hand on either of us, I would floor him in a second.
“You forget who you’re talking to, Screech.” He said, lowering his tone, trying to intimidate me further. “Think we should lay him out like that, Chester lad?” tilting his chin towards Lint as he sniggered at his side.
I stepped closer, nose to nose. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
His dirty grin spread wider, “Aww, lost your babysitter have ya? Guess he shouldn’t have been getting involved with shit that don’t concern him.”
“What the fuck did you do?”
They chuckled among themselves, shrugging at my question. The heat built rapidly within me, my fists clenching, ready to do damage. Had they killed him? Left him to rot in a ditch for standing up for us?
“Screech, come on. Let's go.” Squeeks pulling at my arm as she forced me backwards. “Screech, please. They aren’t worth it.”
We stood like that for a beat, as a guilt-ridden sadness crept into my chest.
Squeeks continued forcing me backwards, muttering to herself. “Fucking parasites.”
As we walked away, Lint called out behind us, “That’s it, do as little sissy says.”
Their gross laughter filled the alleyway, making me spin on the spot.
“Screech no!”
“Nah, they wanna play games. I’ll show 'em a fucking game—”
“Screech, no! What would Chester say?” My breaths heaved as her hand spread across my chest, stopping me from launching towards them.
They fucking killed him. For what? For caring about Squeeks?
My anger burned into my stare as tears flooded into the corners of my sister's eyes.
“It's my fault.” Sobbing into her hands. My shoulders dropped as I pulled her into me, wrapping my arms around her as visions flashed across my eyes of how they would have just left him. Dying and pleading in the gutter.
When I got back to the house, I sat on the kitchen counter for hours, barely moving, smoke dancing around my fingers, eyes fixed out of the window.
I couldn’t stop my racing mind, thinking about Chester and how he was yet something else Danny had stripped from me.
But I couldn’t allow myself to grieve him right now; there was Misfit’s voice dragging me back towards the tainted reality.
I turned the lighter over in my hand repeatedly, the metal now warm on my skin.
My thoughts wouldn’t stay still. Every possibility ran through me like a slow drip.
She might be setting me up to take another shot, finishing me off.
Nah, she wouldn’t want our game to finish so abruptly.
Would she? Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.
Misfit, smirking in the dark. Blood on her hands. On mine. I couldn’t tell if my mind was playing tricks on me or showing me what was to come. Would the voice return? To guide me through my potential execution.
By the time the sun started to dip, the walls of the house felt like they were leaning in.
I couldn’t sit still anymore. Couldn’t pretend I wasn’t winding tighter as my leg bounced restlessly against the counter.
I couldn’t just turn up empty-handed. It would be like leading a lamb to slaughter.
My eyes drifted around the kitchen, looking for anything that could be a potential weapon.
My eyes fell on a butcher’s knife thrown into the sink.
No, too obvious. I needed something I could conceal.
Or risk endless questions. But then it hit me, a lightbulb moment, if you can call it that.
So, I stood, cracked my neck, and walked toward the back room with unwavering confidence as if I wasn’t about to do something dodgy. The hallway to Danny’s back room felt colder than usual, even though the air was still thick with old smoke and the sour stench of stale beer.
The door was half ajar; Danny never shut it. I guess he figured we valued our lives more than an open-door policy.
The room was the same as always, like a second-hand pawn shop had exploded in a biker bar. Boxes stacked high in one corner, a flickering lamp on the desk casting long shadows over a tangle of wires and tools. And in the back, under the workbench, the old metal lock box.
I crouched down, running my fingers along the floor until I found the loose tile and slipped it aside.
The key was still there, taped beneath it. Danny always thought hiding something obvious made it safer. I figured he was just lazy.
The lock clicked open with a soft thunk as I prized the lid open.
Inside: the scuffed gun I'd had the pleasure of being threatened with, two spare mags, and a small cloth bag that smelled like oil.
I picked up the gun, turning it in my hand as I inspected its appearance. The weight of it in my hand felt wrong.
A step I never thought I'd have to resort to.
Returning to my feet, I slipped the gun into the back of my jeans, tugging my hoodie down to cover it.
My reflection in the dusty window caught my eye. Hollow cheeks. Eyes like burned-out headlights. I barely recognised myself.
But Misfit would.
And I needed to be ready for her.
I stepped back into the hall, pulling the door closed behind me, and found Squeeks waiting at the end.
“Where are you going? And why were you in there?” Her voice was quiet and inquisitive.
“Going to see a man about a dog. Don’t wait up.” Noticing the alerting shift in her expression as I slipped past her. My hand lingered on the handle of the front door as I turned to look at her. “I’ll be back soon.”