Chapter 11 — Life Is Strange

The second the siren went off, Kier insisted that we leave. I didn’t argue, because the silence felt like slow death. He wouldn’t say a word to his aunt, and Brook gave up trying at some point. So, we had been sitting at the kitchen table, not saying a word the entire time. I thought my head would explode.

“You don’t have to go,” Brook said.

Kier snorted and marched out of the room. I stayed in my seat, watching him leave. Then I turned back to Brook, who rose from her chair. She eyed me. “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry. When Kier calms down, he’ll see that this would’ve been the best decision for everyone.”

“Not me,” I said.

Brook shook her head and turned back to the sink. “I’m not convinced of that. I think you’ll be wishing that you could go back to your house before the week is out. Whatever is there, it can’t be that bad.”

I started to wonder why no one believed me. It seemed like no matter what I said, how I tried to argue, what evidence I presented, people always found an excuse to dismiss me. My chest hurt, thinking about that, but I didn’t want to dwell anymore. Kier believed me. Not only that, but he wanted to make sure that I lived to see eighteen. Maybe that would be enough.

He came back into the room, and his face still looked stiff as stone. His expression had locked down in this tensed, unhappy look that had my stomach rolling. My bag dangled from one hand, and he had his keys in the other.

“Let’s go,” he said.

I pushed back from the table and rubbed my hands down my jeans. “All right,” I said, glancing back at Brook. She watched us with the kind of shrewd stare that had my chest tightening up. I worried that she would be a problem later, but how much later did I have? Eventually, Kier and I would figure out what the hell to do. Maybe take me to a shelter in a different city. They couldn’t send me back if I refused to give my real name, I supposed.

The two of us left quickly, and I figured out why Kier decided to be in such a hurry. I could hear the life behind the doors all the sudden. People talking, making breakfast, laughing, watching television. The building had come alive while I sat at Brook’s kitchen table.

And everyone inside was a Nightmare, while I stayed human. If we ran into anyone in the halls, we could have the same kind of encounter that we did with Brook. Or worse. I couldn’t fathom what that would be like.

We ran down the stairs and out the front door. Kier moved so fast, I figured he forgot that I couldn’t keep up. My heart pounded and my shorter legs burned by the time we burst out of the building.

Kier didn’t slow down.

Cursing, I practically chased after him while he made a break for the car. We climbed in, and I breathed out while Kier dropped my bag into the backseat. I stared at it, trying to come up with the right words to say. The words that would calm him down. I knew that I had no obligation to do that, but I still wanted to try.

Kier punched the steering wheel so hard that part of the plastic came off and bounced against the front windshield. I flinched, curling into a tight ball in my seat out of instinct.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kier said. “Fuck. Fucking hell. Huntress strike me…”

My heart thundered while adrenaline pumped through me. It’s okay, I thought. This is Kier. He isn’t going to hurt me. He’s just upset. Uncurl. It’s fine. Breathe. It’s fine. Just Kier. It’s fine.

I managed to untuck my legs, and I rubbed the knees of the jeans Kier had washed for me. “I’m sorry,” I said.

He looked at me, finally dropping that stony expression. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I couldn’t read his voice or face, so he could’ve been lying for all I knew.

I shifted around, biting the corner of my lip. “There has to be another shelter, or something that I can—”

“No,” Kier said, making me flinch again. This time, there had been no room for argument in his voice.

I tried anyway. “I’m just causing a lot of problems like this, and I don’t want your family to get into trouble. And… you really don’t have any say over where I go or what I do.”

At that, he laughed. Not like he found my statement funny, but like he needed to expel energy in a nonviolent way. He couldn’t explode with me in the car, because it would send me into a tailspin. Stupid little Whilda couldn’t convince her brain or body to stop reacting like she would get hit.

“You don’t want to leave,” Kier said.

I looked away from him.

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s fine. You don’t have to feel ashamed of that.”

But I did. The second that I left my father’s house, I found a place to hide. Now, I couldn’t bring myself to find someplace better for them. Smarter for me. Logistically speaking, I couldn’t live with the Nightmares. Their kind would find out eventually, and they wouldn’t like it. Or me. Or anything.

My heart ached at that thought, because I liked their house so much. I’d only been there for about four days, but everything about it felt so safe. Secure. I liked them, and I didn’t like many people.

“We’ll make it work,” Kier said.

“How?” I asked. “You can’t keep me in your house forever. I’ll go stir crazy, and the kids can’t keep that kind of secret. We need to figure out something for real. An actual solution.”

“That’s what I meant.” Kier turned to me, and his brown eyes had turned hard and serious. I didn’t squirm, but it took a lot of effort for me to stay still. “I will figure out a permanent solution, one where you don’t have to leave.”

My heart thundered in my chest. “But that…”

“What?”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t want to leave,” Kier said. “Because every time I try to take you somewhere safe, it turns out to be the exact opposite, and I don’t want to get you killed. Because… just because, okay?”

I shifted around in my seat and glanced down at my knees. I didn’t want to think that Kier cared about me. It felt like setting myself up for failure. Yet, the thought started to poke into the back of my head that maybe, possibly, he didn’t hate me. He should have, in all honesty. With everything that I had done to his family just by being there…

He didn’t have a great relationship with Brook to start with, but I had clearly damaged it in some way.

“I wish that I didn’t have to burden you,” I said.

Kier shook his head. “Don’t think like that. If you were a burden, I would’ve kicked you out of the house already.”

I reached forward and picked the piece of broken steering wheel up. “I’m pretty sure that this disagrees with you.”

“That wasn’t because of you,” Kier said. “Brook just pissed me off so much.” He tightened his hand into a fist, and I took note of that. The anger burned in his eyes, but he didn’t direct it at me. Well… any more than he usually did. I couldn’t think of a time where Kier hadn’t been angry. That should’ve scared me more than it did…

“You wouldn’t have come if not for me,” I said.

Kier gave me a droll look, telling me without saying the words to shut up.

“It’s true,” I said.

“Brook and I have never gotten along,” Kier said, turning the car on. He pulled out of the parking space and turned around. “She always thinks she knows what’s best for a person, and when they finally get that, she just assumes that she was right. It’s why she never bothered to pay attention to me or the kids. My mother got a mate and some children, so her life had to be perfect.” The bitterness came through so clearly that I didn’t know what to do with myself but shift around, unsure.

“Do you wish that she had noticed something?” I asked.

Kier went to take the steering wheel, only to find that his hand rested on the broken part. He rubbed his head and sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that. Do you know how much steering wheels cost?”

“No.”

“I do, unfortunately.” Instead of continuing with that change of subject, he answered my question. “I don’t know what I wanted from Brook. She wouldn’t have been a good mother to the kids, even if she managed to kill my parents. Which, I don’t think she would’ve been able to do. Brook would’ve spent so much time trying to make us all into what she thought we needed to be, we wouldn’t have time to breathe through it. I’m not sure what fourteen-year-old me wanted, but now…”

“They’re your kids,” I said.

Kier nodded tensely. “Amber has no recollection of our parents. Aiden barely has any. Clementine and Ash… they remember, but they don’t like those memories. I’ve been raising all of them for the last three years, and I can’t imagine someone else stepping into that role.”

“But you wish that maybe Brook had noticed something?” I asked, because I had wished for that kind of thing after my mother died. I’d gone to school every day, hoping that someone would look and really see me. See how I flinched at loud sounds and panicked at messes. No one looked, though. Or no one cared. It became easy to believe that I meant nothing to them, because everything seemed so obvious to me.

“Yeah,” Kier said, rubbing his jaw. “I wouldn’t change how things went down, just because I know that I can keep the kids safe. But I wish that Ash and Clementine didn’t have to live with our crappy parents for so long. They’ll always have those memories, and I can’t change that, or do anything about it.”

I understood the way he felt. My mother probably would’ve thought the same thing, if she could see me. Except she would’ve wanted to change what happened with her. I couldn’t imagine what she would’ve thought if she saw me in the car with a Nightmare. Not that he scared me or threatened me.

“I get it,” I said.

Kier growled low in his throat. “I wish you didn’t. If this all confused you, then maybe I could drop you off at a shelter and walk away.”

I blinked, confused. “Huh?”

Kier shook his head and shut down. I knew that he wouldn’t give me anything else, so I faced forward and watched the trees pass. At some point, Kier turned the radio on, and I listened to the most popular rock songs. I didn’t listen to music much when I’d lived at home. My father hated anything that I liked. If I played it too loud, he’d throw things at my door.

I looked down at my hands, turning them over and over.

Why doesn’t anyone believe me? I wondered.

“Because they’re stupid,” Kier growled. I must’ve spoken aloud.

“They’d believe me if there were bruises on my face, or if he cut me up,” I said. “But there’s no evidence that he’s broken all my things, or that he threw me around, or that he punishes me. If someone could see him hold my face into a sink full of dirty water because I dropped a cup, would they believe me then?”

We stopped at a light and Kier leaned back against his seat. He stared out the window with such sadness in his eyes that I almost regretted saying anything. “They would probably believe you then, yes. That’s the thing with your kind. In all the things that matter the most, you need a stack of proof higher than I am tall. Even then, sometimes it’s not good enough.”

The car started to move again, and I began thinking. I’d never been a fan of the shelter idea, but I didn’t have any other option. I didn’t have any relatives, as far as I knew. My mother had been all alone, and my father didn’t talk about his parents. Not unless he got drunk, which he hadn’t done in a long time. What little I knew sounded worse than the house I grew up in. Probably because my father would scream about how I had it good compared to him.

He liked to do things such as that.

I couldn’t be homeless, because most homeless people disappeared when night fell. They went to shelters, but often enough, they didn’t get inside on time. Both races had a clear understanding. If one got caught outside at the wrong time, they would be punished. I didn’t think I’d last very long out on my own.

We pulled up to the house and Kier shut the car off. The garage was quiet, with only the ticking of the engine. Kier dropped his head back against the seat rest and rubbed his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said, again.

“Please stop saying that,” Kier grumbled. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I opened my mouth but Kier grabbed my face before I could say anything. “Nothing,” he said. “You did nothing wrong. Okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered.

He released me and got out of the car. I followed him, stepped into the house, and felt relieved. This space, both foreign and familiar, had more to offer than my home did. A home that I lived in for years, and worried about making too much noise. Breaking something. Talking to a man that seemed so put out with me at all times. I didn’t want to go back there. The thought of having to put myself in a position where it would be possible tightened my chest. I’d have to run again if that happened. And keep running until someone saved me or someone killed me.

Swallowing past a lump in my throat, I said, “How would we go about hiding me?”

Kier crossed his arms over his chest. “It wouldn’t be hard. The kids don’t usually invite friends over. We would just have to minimize what little company we have, and when we need someone to come over, we’ll just make you a hidey hole.”

“I don’t want to live my entire life like that,” I said.

“Of course not,” Kier agreed, like it had been stupid to suggest. “We’d have to figure out something else, for the long term, but until then, it would be a good solution. I can ask around and see if anyone knows how we would keep you here permanently. Worse comes to worse, you only need to hide out until you turn eighteen and can get a job. You could still live here, and just walk around during the daytime.”

“People would look at me funny, if I lived with Nightmares while being human,” I said. “They might try to attack me.”

Kier flashed his teeth in something that didn’t resemble a smile. “Let them. I’ll make sure that’s something they only try once.” His voice had lowered into that deep growl again, and my stomach fluttered upon hearing it. I didn’t want him to know that, so I went into the living room.

I sat down on the couch and Kier sat down next to me. He leaned back in the seat and crossed his arms over his chest again. The move made his shoulders look huge. I didn’t understand how the house still felt comfortable with him in it. The kids had gone to school, but when they ran around… I couldn’t fathom how they all fit. Especially if Ash got any bigger.

“The kids might get picked on at school for having a human pet,” I said.

Kier snorted. “Ash doesn’t care, and anyone that picks on Clementine or Aiden doesn’t know what they’re in for. Amber’s got another year before she goes to school, so I’m not worried about her, either.”

“What about you?” I asked.

“What about me?” he countered.

“You’ve got school and training. What would the Authorities think if I lived in this house, even if it was just for a year or two?”

Kier’s eyes darkened at the last part, making me squirm. “There aren’t any laws against humans and Nightmares living together. I think most people just assume we aren’t that stupid. It works in our favor right now. They can’t stop me from doing it, and they’d have to find out about you, first. By the time that happens, I like to think we’ll have been living here for a few months, so I have proof that you won’t hurt the kids. That’s the only form of retaliation that they have against me.”

“What if they try to take the kids?” I asked.

He made that not-a-smile smile again, flashing his teeth. “They can try all they want. They’ll never get past me.”

“That’s the other thing, though,” I said. “I don’t know anything about your culture or your kind. What if I make a mistake?”

Kier leaned back against the couch and shrugged. “Ask me anything,” he said. “We’ll nip this in the bud right now.”

My mind froze for a second, trying to come up with a single question when I had a dozen. The first thing that burst from my mouth surprised me. “Who’s the Huntress? Is that your deity?”

“Didn’t think that would be your first question,” Kier said.

My cheeks heated, but I pressed on. “I’ve heard you use that name several times. I’m just… curious.”

Kier cocked his head to the side and thought for a second. “Your kind used to know this, but humans like to bury their mistakes in the ground. Yes, the Huntress is our deity, the one that created us. Do you want to hear that story?”

I nodded.

“In our religion, we’re taught that there are a hundred different gods. Those gods each decided who they wanted to be worshipped by, and they spread throughout the world to make their own pantheons. They created people and taught them as they saw fit. Then there was the Huntress, who didn’t want to make people. She wanted to be left alone, to hunt and live as she saw fit. She created these creatures with sharp claws and teeth, and they were to be her companions wherever she went.

“As the world grew and people started to blossom, those people began to hunt. The Huntress didn’t care, though she thought them cruel much of the time. They killed because they could, not because they needed. That’s where her distaste for humans started.

“Then they turned their sights on her companions, on her creatures. Her children. These creatures, they had the sharpest teeth and claws, and they had been raised by the Huntress herself. They could track and kill any thing. They scared the humans, and the humans decided that they did not need to listen to this goddess. It had been rumored that the Huntress went away during the winter, up to live with her family. The other gods. Her companions would sleep until her return.

“That winter, the humans went hunting themselves.”

My stomach twisted, as I started to see where this story would end.

“They killed all the Huntress’ children. She returned at the beginning of spring to find their slaughtered corpses in a pile, waiting for her. In grief and rage, she decided then to make another creation. One that would show the humans why one should never test a goddess such as her.

“She took the mold that the other gods used, and she took the very fears the humans had, the nightmares that they had, and she combined them. In doing so, she created her new children. Ones that could survive and punish the humans for what they had done to her firstborns.”

I looked down at my knees, frowning. “That’s awful.”

Kier nodded. “Yes. That’s why so many of us don’t like your kind to start with. Humans make it worse by being foolish, cruel things, under the impression that they can do anything and be fine.”

My shoulders curled.

Kier glanced at me, and his features softened. “I’d apologize, but you are a prime example of what I’m saying. The way they’ve treated you, and ignore you…” He shook his head in disgust.

“Do you believe in your goddess?” I asked.

Kier nodded. “Most Nightmares do, though there are some that choose to worship one of the other gods or goddesses. There are others that don’t believe at all. But most of my kind believe in Her. There are too many of us who are old enough to remember the last time She came around.”

I blinked. “Um… What?”

“The Huntress returns to us sometimes, to shake things up when She feels it’s needed,” Kier said. “And since we stop aging at physical maturity, there are some old enough to remember the last time She decided to shake things up.”

My head reeled.

“Is there anything else that you want to know?” Kier asked, leaning back in his seat. “We don’t keep secrets.”

My mouth went dry again, and I thought about everything that I’d wondered. I’d already learned so much about the Nightmare culture. Everything centered around the young, but otherwise, it seemed very similar to my culture. They went to school, they got jobs, they found spouses, they lived similar lives to us. The few changes they had, those seemed significant enough that I needed to know them, but they weren’t numerous.

I knew a lot, except for one thing.

“You said something about… power… Coming into power. Um, what did you mean by that?”

Kier raised an eyebrow. “When we hit puberty, my kind receive their power. We’re too young to handle it before then, and we learn how to control it from our parents.”

“What does it mean, though? What kind of power are you talking about?”

“You don’t know that?” Kier asked, looking surprised.

I shook my head. “No. Our schools don’t teach that anymore. I’ve never even really heard rumors, because I don’t have any friends.”

Kier cleared his throat and glanced away. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he felt uncomfortable. “Well, for the males of our species, we can change our bodies. Nothing drastic. We just become stronger, deadlier.”

“Change how?” I asked.

“It’s hard to explain,” Kier said. “We kind of morph.”

The image of werewolves on TV popped into my head, but I knew Nightmares didn’t do that. Otherwise, we’d call them werewolves.

“What about the girls?” I asked. “Do they not get anything?”

Kier laughed at that, shaking his head. “Oh, they get something different. If you’re lucky, then you’ll never have to see what.”

I wanted to know specifics but started to think that Kier wouldn’t give them to me. He claimed they didn’t have secrets, but he wouldn’t tell me this. I didn’t think his silence came from distrust. He looked almost… worried or embarrassed about something. So, I let the subject drop, assuming that he would tell me eventually.

“So, we’ve figured almost everything out,” I said. “But there’s still something that we haven’t talked about.”

“What?” Kier asked, getting up from the couch. He wandered into the kitchen, and I heard the fridge open. A second later, a glass tapped on the counter.

“How am I going to finish high school?”