Chapter 16: All The Desolate People

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The castle was not a very impressive one, I remember thinking, but it was enough to house the young bounty hunters until corporate came hunting for them. That is what my mind tells me to think, to know, while I sit among them, my hands anxiously gripping the hilt of my sheathed, borrowed blade.

"The Queen is desperate for our heads," says Wednesday, holding his hands extremely close to the crackling fire. "It will be likely we will not be able to bring the pauper across country lines. If we try, who knows what will happen?"

"War, definitely," says Edward, bored. "Death, famine. The funs."

"Come on now, we mustn't lose hope!" cries Raven. "If we can do this, then the Princess will return! How would the world turn its back on us while we fight to save it?"

"S'not hard. The world does it all the time. We're the black sheep, the outcasts."

"So you'll turn your back on everything?"

"What has the world done for us, Ray? They curse us with beating hearts and poverty, eternal damnation, and then cry for us when some queen starts decapitating them? Don't you think if they had cared about us at all, they would have treated us like heroes prior to all this gore?"

"Now is not an appropriate time to complain," says Wednesday.

"Oh, please. When is?"

"You've been complaining a lot lately," Raven observes. "It's as if you don't care what happens to yourself. Like it or not, you are part of the world and so are billions of innocent people like us. Besides, don't you want to see the Princess again?"

Edward rubs between her toes with her sheathed sword's butt. "Not really."

"I for one am excited," Mikasa squeaks, her smile oblivious to the pessimism in the hollow room. "We're going to be praised and treated as heroes when we're done!"

"If we don't lose and get eaten by the Queen, you mean," adds Edward.

"Let's not think like that!" says Raven. "We will succeed. We've come this far!"

"Far to what? We're in a desolate castle with no plan and an entire corporation on our asses! We're going to die!"

And so, Edward and Raven start to go back and forth, optimism versus defeat. Wednesday finds this turning of the conversation boring so he lays down and goes right to sleep. Mikasa's excitement dwindles as the arguing continues. I can barely bring myself to listen.

"I think we can do it," Mikasa mutters. "They'll see. And you especially." She smiles at me. "You'll be glad we brought you onto the team."

I only shrug in response.

At the other side of the room, completely ignoring the conversation, is Archie. He sits in front of a dangerously open window, his blade stabbed into the mortar. I can't help but stare for an exceptionally long time at him. The moonlight reflects off his midnight armor in a way that reminds me of the bay so far from our reach — shimmering, an unknown deepness no one dares to explore. A mystery no one can comprehend. His deep brown hair seems to float in the soft wind.

I get up and walk over to him, but I don't sit down next to him. My mind tells me we had argued. Not an argument like Edward and Raven's. False heartbreaking memories flood before my eyes. Humiliation, shame, regret. I worry for him. The look on his face tells it all: dark circles, frowning lips, half-closed eyes nearly hidden behind his sloppy bangs.

"Archie?"

He looks up at me—

"Up!" My stepfather is bellowing from the other side of the door — that is, the door belonging to my bedroom. "Get up!"

Sitting up and rubbing the sleep [and visions of sad beautiful boys] from my eyes, I call out, "I'm awake."

"We're leaving in twenty minutes. If you want to say goodbye to your siblings, get out of your room and do it now." Heavy footsteps fade away.

Right. Perhaps I forgot to inform you, I was not invited to the wedding nor the summer holiday in Anastasia. My stepfather was told what happened at my mother's funeral by an associate of his, if I neglected to inform you that as well, and he decided bringing me to such a sophisticated city like Anastasia would be too much of a risk. Even if he did not know about what happened at the funeral, I do not doubt he wouldn't have brought me along. Anyway, on top of me being left behind, Emily, Mikey, and Helena are going with Stepfather and Sherry, leaving me [almost] utterly alone in the Bloodstone mansion until September sixth.

I don't like being alone, but it was either that or be watched by a Knight twenty-four hours a day. I do not trust Knights. No sane man would. It's bad enough Stepfather has assigned Knights to check on me every Thursday at six in the afternoon and make sure everything is orderly in the mansion. A Knight supervising me every waking hour of the day would just be plain hell.

I stagger out of my closet and head for the bathroom. According to my watch, it is a quarter past eight. I am not sure when the reception is supposed to start, but one can only assume it is to be very soon. I shut the bathroom door behind me.

'...'

I look down underneath the bathtub. It is none other than Cujo.

"Hello," I say, preparing my toothbrush.

'...?'

"No."

'...?'

"You know how my stepfather is. He doesn't want me to ruin his special day."

'...?'

"Yes, I'm going to be alone here." I commence brushing my teeth.

'...?'

"I could care less about the wedding."

'...'

'...?'

"The only wedding I've ever been to," I say after spitting, "is my mother and stepfather's. Mother wanted me to attend. I had to go." I rinse, not at all wanting to mention I was to sit with my grandparents in the back while my siblings stood by the heads of our family.

'...?'

"Of course my siblings are going. The reporters are going to be there, taking pictures of the entire family having a good time for their tabloids."

'...'

"Not including me," I agree. "To most people, I am nothing but a scary urban legend." I let out an idle laugh. "To the rest, you can infer."

'...!'

"It doesn't matter if it's fair or not." I turn around and face the little rat. "That is the way of the world, as Sherry would say."

There's not enough time to take a bath or urinate right now. I open the bathroom door and finally exit, Cujo scurrying behind me.

'...?'

"I'm going downstairs to say goodbye to my siblings. You should make yourself scarce. Sherry is pregnant and when she gets scared, 'hell breaks loose.'"

Cujo laughs. '...'

"Not many people are fond of rats." I pause at the edge of the staircase.

'...'

"I'm sad to say it is a prejudice most would find justifiable. You're a rat."

'...'

'...'

'...'

'...'

"Oh, Cujo. You don't have to do that. I don't need a babysitter, I'm nineteen."

'...' he says seriously. '...'

"I suppose that's a fair point."

Cujo turns around and begins to walk away. '...'

"Goodbye," I say, descending down the stairs.

I could hear Mikey and Emily's voices coming from the first floor, but I am not going to them just yet. There's someone who's still on this floor. I walk into Helena's room and find her jumping down on her overstuffed suitcase, trying to get it shut. Launcher observes with great disapproval.

"Didn't Stepfather tell you to finish packing two days ago?" I ask her.

Helena gives her suitcase a little frustrated kick. I notice a lot of dirt on her new purple day-dress. "I forgot to finish."

"You forgot or were you procrastinating?"

Helena puckered her lips at me in annoyance. "Not gonna answer th-that question."

I smile down at her. "You're not going to misbehave, are you?"

"Mm-misbehave?" She pretends to look appalled.

I crouch down in front of her and hold her little hands. "And you're going to watch Mikey like you promised?"

She nods. "Yes, of course."

"Because you're better at keeping him out of trouble than I am."

She makes a face. "I only tell him to stuh-st-stop, that's it."

"You do more than that. You know that." And I know that. "Also, while you're at it, do you think you can tell Sherry to go easy with her drinking? I'm afraid her baby is going to come out drunker than Cousin Martha on Birkenau Satisfaction Day."

Helena laughs. "Muh-Martha farts when shuh-sh-she's drunk!"

"Helena."

"She does! I heard her! Do you think Sherry farts too?"

"Everyone farts."

"I can't imagine Stepfather farting," she giggles as I look over at her suitcase. "He's too s-suh-serious."

"Do you need help with that?" I nod over to the suitcase.

"Yes." She puts her hands on the top of the suitcase. "It won't c-close!"

I peek inside the suitcase. All the clothes are folded neatly inside but there are several books stuffed inside that are making it impossible to shut it. I take the thickest book out — Grimms' Fairy Tales.

"Stepfather's not going to be happy when he sees you've brought books to the holiday," I tell her.

Helena shrugs, pouting. "I don't want to get bored."

Stepfather won't appreciate that response from her. He'll see it as disrespectful rather than a child needing something to occupy their focus.

I notice Helena's second suitcase waiting patiently on her bed. Launcher is sitting on top, bored and impatient.

An idea pops into my head. "Where's your little schoolbag?"

Helena thinks for a moment, then pulls out the schoolbag from underneath her bed.

"What's in it?" I ask.

"A textbook, my sk-sketchbook, some pencils, a box of crayons, and a cuh-c-candy bar." She pulls out said candy bar. "Do you wuh-want it? It has muh-marshm— marshmallows."

"No, you have it. Listen, take these books out of your suitcase and put them all back on your shelf except for one."

"One?" Helena's shoulders slump.

"Yes, one. Here." I pull out all the books from out of the suitcase and successfully close it. Then, I hand my sister the thinnest book of them all — Journey of the Five Queer Devils, a rather famous children's book from a Birkenau author. "Take that one and put it in your schoolbag. And take out the textbook too. I don't think you want to be doing schoolwork during holiday."

Giggling, she tosses the textbook onto her bed, then takes the suggested book and stuffs it in her bag.

"Now, don't read that book or draw anything during the wedding, understand?"

Helena rolls her eyes. "Emily already told me the-that!"

"Don't roll your eyes at me either."

Helena sighs. "Sorry. I don't want to go to the st-stupid wedding." Crossing her arms and letting out an aggravated groan, she plops down on the bed, causing Launcher to flop down on his side.

'...' he sighs.

"Do you wuh-want to go to the wedding?" Helena asks me.

I go over to the bed and plop down next to her. Launcher falls onto the floor. He curses up at me. Helena and I laugh at him.

"It's not that I want to go," I say to her after a while. "I just wasn't invited."

"Whuh-why?"

"I think you know why."

"Oh, right. Still. It's not fair."

I shrug my shoulders again. "It can't be helped, Helena. But you were invited. So were Mikey and Emily. And you're going to have a great time at the wedding and during your summer holiday. All those restaurants, and pastries, and museums, and playgrounds—"

"Don't you th-the-think th— don't you think that it's messed up the wuh-wedding is right after Mother's funeral?"

Oh. "Yes. I do."

"Do you th— Was Mikey right?"

"About what?"

"That Stuh-Stepfather waited for her to die."

My eyes widen. "Did he say that to you?"

"No. But I heard him tell someone that over the phone. He was cr-cry— he was really s-sad."

I relax my shoulders. "Of course he was sad. We're all still very sad. But Mother wouldn't want you thinking like that. What Stepfather has been doing should not be your concern. You let me worry about that, alright? You're nine years old. You're supposed to be living a life that all the other nine-year-olds are."

"...I miss Mommy."

"I do, too." I put an arm around her, trying to think of something else that is comforting to say. "But I like to think that Mother is now somewhere better than Birkenau City."

"Heaven?"

"I suppose you could call it that. Just anywhere that's bright, somewhere with fields of green grass that's soft...."

"Like in Paltry Town wuh-where the hicks live?"

Hicks? I look down at her, confused and a bit alarmed.

"That's what M-Mikey calls them. W-w-was that a curse wuh-word too?"

"No, but it was rude."

"Sorry."

"But yes, like Paltry Town. Only prettier." I frown. "Didn't I tell you to come to me if Mikey said something that sounded off?"

She shrugs her shoulders again, staring down at her shoes and twiddling her thumbs.

"Well, anyway, Mother is somewhere better. It helps to imagine what that place is."

Helena nods slowly.

I let out a sigh. I suppose there is not much else to say to her. Besides, she has to get going. "Alright, then." I stand up from the bed and pick up the suitcase on the bed. Thankfully it wasn't all too heavy. It might have embarrassed me if I struggled to pick up this little suitcase filled with Helena's small clothes. "Shall we go downstairs then?"

"I guess." Helena hops off the bed, putting her schoolbag on her shoulder, and picks up Launcher and her other suitcase. She doesn't move another inch. "I really don't want to go."

"I know," I say sympathetically. "But I can't do anything to let you stay."

Helena doesn't really have much of a choice with this. If she were to tell Stepfather she didn't want to go, he would start a horrible argument with her that would surely lead her to tears. I'm also afraid my stepfather might hit her. He's never done that to her before, but he has laid his hands on Mikey and Emily. I wasn't able to protect them or help them. I want to do everything I can to protect my youngest sister.

Helena lets me guide her out of her room. I shut the door behind us, and we walk down the stairs together. We are greeted by Knights carrying suitcases hurriedly out of the house and into vehicles parked outside. One of them takes Helena's suitcases from us without uttering a word. Mikey is sitting at the kitchen counter, wearing the black sunglasses Archie let him keep from one of his earlier visits. I take Helena's free hand and walk over to him.

"Hey," my brother says, propping his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Hello," I say, sitting between him and Helena. "Where's Emily?"

"Getting dressed," Mikey yawns.

"Sherry?"

"Putting on her make-up and killing her baby."

"W-what?" Helena gasps. "She's killing her—"

"No, no," I quickly say. "Mikey was just joking."

Mikey raises an eyebrow at me, but says nothing more on the subject. "Stepfather's outside, talking to his 'friends'." He uses his fingers to make air-quotes. "It's a shame you're not coming. You would've been the life of the party, what with your dancing and meltdowns."

"Hm."

Suddenly, the irritating sound of high heels come clunking into the kitchen. Sherry sashays towards us, followed by a green-faced Emily.

"Aren't you all excited?" Sherry grins from ear to ear. "In a couple of hours, your stepfather and I will be officially married! Oh, it's like a dream!"

"Yeah," slurs Mikey. "I can't seem to wake up from this dream."

"You children are going to love the venue! The food there is to die for, and the art is glorious! It's like something out of a fairy tale!" Sherry looks at me sympathetically. "Poor you. I do wish you weren't a defective so you could join us."

I give her a fake smile. "I suggest you don't worry about me. I'll be fine. You deserve to have fun."

"Oh, I wasn't worried about you but I do plan to have fun, thank you." (This makes Mikey laugh.) Sherry then says to my siblings, "I'll wait for you outside to say goodbye. Jacob and I need a little fresh air." She suddenly reaches over to pinch my cheek. "Goodbye, Carter."

"Goodbye, Sherry." When she lets go, I rub my now sore cheek.

Sherry gives us all a big Sherry smile, then leaves. It looks like she is slightly struggling to walk, with wearing those ugly shoes and being very pregnant.

"That bitch is completely oblivious," says Mikey.

"Michael!" Emily scolds.

"It's just the facts." Mikey snatches off the sunglasses. "Are you alright, Emily? You look a little green."

"Are you going to vomit?" I ask, watching her face very carefully.

Helena hops off her seat and grabs the trash can.

"No, no, I am not going to vomit," Emily reassures us. Her hand grips her stomach. "I'm just...very nervous, is all."

"Why are you nervous?" Mikey puts his sunglasses back on, now that he thinks there is nothing to worry about. "It's not like you're the bride. Hell, you're not even a bridesmaid!"

"I'm not worried about the wedding, I'm worried about everything else!"

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning I am not going to bother to explain it to you, as we have to get going! But..." Emily looks at me with pained eyes. "Oh, goodness, Carter, are you sure you're going to be alright by yourself?"

"Yes, I'll be fine," I quickly answer without thinking.

"Are you sure? I can convince Stepfather to let me stay with you. Or I can try to call Walter or maybe even—"

"I'll be alright. I've got Cujo with me."

Emily's shoulders slump. "The rat."

"I'm fine with his company."

"Ah, yes, of course he is comfortable with that type of company," Mikey laughs. "Carter's a real-life Snow White."

"This isn't a joke, Michael," Emily scolds, beginning to stroke her long hair frantically in a weak attempt to calm herself. "I really shouldn't be letting you stay alone—"

"I'll be alright." I hop off the seat. "I'll be fine. You go on and have fun with Patrick."

Patrick is attending the wedding and joining my family for the summer holiday. It will be the first time in a long time Emily and Patrick will get to spend quality time together as a couple. Emily, of all people, deserves this holiday. I will not let myself continue to be a burden.

"You promise you will stay in the house?"

"Yes, I promise."

"And you'll tell the Knight every Tuesday that you're out of food or if there's a problem?"

"Every Thursday, yes, I will."

Emily nods, her hands falling at her side. "Alright."

"Alright?"

"Yes, alright." Emily clenches her fists. "Alright...."

Mikey comes up behind me and pats me on my shoulder affectionately. "See you in three months, brother."

Helena's arms wrap around my waist. "I'm gonna muh-muh-miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too." I hug her back.

Mikey takes Emily's arm and slowly begins to lead her to the front door, saying to her, "We should get going before Stepfather shows up."

"Right," says Emily, looking disoriented. "Carter—"

"I'll be fine, Emily," I say. "I promise."

Helena takes Emily's other hand. She and Mikey are trying to guide Emily to the door, but she's so hesitant, she's practically holding them back.

"Goodbye, then," says Emily quietly, frowning.

"Goodbye."

Emily looks over her shoulder. "I'll call you when we get to Anastasia. We're going to be busy on the train, getting dressed and such, but I'll call you as soon

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