Children - Part 2 (An Asylum Tale)

[Content Warning: strong language]

‘Welcome to our home,’ the boy said. He pounded his makeshift cudgel into his palm as he approached.

There were a dozen other children holding Deakes down. They all shared the same oversized eyes; larger than usual sockets and irises so big there was little white to be seen. Individually, each posed no substantial threat but their combined weight prevented him from moving. He stalled as the nine-year-old drew nearer.

‘What are you going to do, Theo?’ Deakes used the name he’d heard the blonde-haired girl call him.

‘We just wanted to have fun,’ Theo said. He pointed his weapon at Deakes. ‘You brought this on yourself.’

‘Your friend could have been killed.’ Deakes referred to the younger boy who had played chicken in front of his moving car.

Theo flashed a grin that cooled Deakes’s blood. ‘It was just a game.’ He raised the piece of wood over his head and said, ‘Let’s play a different one: beat the grown up senseless.’

Deakes wrestled against the children but he was held tight. He couldn’t believe this boy was about to play piñata with him, particularly as he was being pinned down by the others – Theo was more likely to strike one of the kids than his intended target. But the light in the boy’s eyes did not reassure him that Theo could see the same reasoning.

‘Stop this now,’ a voice called from the doorway.

All eyes turned to the newcomer. A woman, clad in leathers with a motorcycle helmet tucked under one arm. Her ivory hair hung passed her shoulders. Deakes recognised her. She had been at the airport and must have been the biker he had seen on the streets of Garthridge.

‘You’ve had your fun,’ she said. ‘Now let him be.’

‘Who are you?’ Theo asked, then added, ‘It doesn't even matter. Get her out of here.’

Four of the children released Deakes and ran toward the woman. They stopped in their tracks when she began to sing.

At Deakes’s shoulder, the blonde girl’s awe was apparent when she said, ‘She’s a siren.’

Deakes looked at the woman again. The platinum hair, the black leathers, the supernatural voice – he had seen her before this evening. She was the lead singer of a heavy metal band that Andrea had taken him to see last year.

‘Dust?’ he said, using what he assumed was her stage name.

Theo blew a raspberry in frustration. ‘Thppt. I don’t care who she is. She’s spoiling the game.’

She stopped her song. The four children were freed but made no sign of moving toward her. Dust glared directly at Theo as she said, ‘Stop fucking around and let him go.’

Deakes winced despite his predicament. ‘Watch your language,’ he chided. ‘They’re just kids.’

A few of the children giggled and the blonde said to him, ‘That’s wight, mister. We’re just wittle babies.’

Dust turned her gaze from Theo to Deakes. He couldn’t tell if her eyes held disdain or pity.

‘You really are new at this, aren’t you?’

Deakes struggled to understand her meaning. New at being attacked by children? Yeah, this was a first for him. But when Andrea had introduced him to Dust, it had been in the capacity of working for ARC. Why would Dust point out his inexperience with the cryptid world? Unless…

‘They’re not children.’ Deakes’s voice was flat.

‘Give the man a fucking cigar.’

Deakes’s mind swam. What were they if not the rapscallion tearaways he had believed them to be?

Theo beat his cudgel against the floor several times. Once he had the room’s attention, he dropped the piece of wood and said, ‘You may as well release him. The fun’s over.’

Tiny hands let go of Deakes. The blonde girl at his side helped him to his feet and said, ‘We wouldn’t have let you be injured. It was just for sport. A kind of theatre, if you will.’ Hearing grown-up sentences come from what appeared to be a four-year-old’s mouth was disorientating.

‘I really don’t know what’s happening,’ Deakes admitted.

‘You don’t need to know,’ Theo said. ‘Just go with your girlfriend and leave us alone.’

At the doorway, Dust nodded and turned to leave.

Deakes looked around the room. Dirty mattresses and blankets. Empty takeaway containers. And this was just one room of the house. He doubted the rest of the derelict building offered anything more comfortable or hygienic.

‘Is this where you live?’ he asked.

‘For now,’ Theo answered. ‘We’ll be somewhere else tomorrow, so don’t try to find us again.’

‘I can offer you somewhere better.’

Dust tutted. ‘I don’t have time for this, Deakes. I need to speak with you.’

‘What do you mean?’ the blonde girl asked Deakes.

‘Cruise, don’t,’ Theo warned.

‘You’re not the only leader here,’ she snapped. ‘I want to hear what he has to say.’ She turned to Deakes, her large eyes piercing his. ‘Tell us, Mr Deakes. What do you have in mind?’

Deakes looked around the hovel and knew in his bones that they would fare better away from here. He told them about the Asylum for Relocated Cryptids and how their lives would be much improved there. Cruise and Theo looked at each other, nuanced expressions flashing over their faces. Deakes was not sure if they were speaking telepathically or just knew one another so well they could communicate wordlessly, the way a couple married for sixty years can.

Finally, Theo looked at Deakes and said with a weary tone, ‘Go back to your car and wait. If we’re coming, we’ll be there in twenty minutes. If we’re not there, you’ll never see us again.’

*

With reluctance, Deakes left the house. Once outside, Dust spun on him.

‘You are either incredibly naïve or the nicest fucking person on the planet.’

‘I don’t think I’m either,’ he said. He was glad she couldn’t see his cheeks reddening in the meagre streetlighting.

‘You do know that Harris likes to vet all newcomers?’

‘You know Harris?’ Deakes asked. Thomas Harris was the head of ARC. Andrea had introduced them when she’d recruited him. An act she’d done without Harris’s approval.

When Deakes had first met Dust, backstage at a Dead Again gig, she had procured two cryptids for Andrea. That meant she knew of its existence and intent. But simply being aware of an organisation did not necessary mean she had insider knowledge of the internal politics. He’d asked at the time if she worked for the Asylum, which she had vehemently denied. Perhaps her denial had been too strong.

‘You used to be part of ARC?’ Deakes ventured.

Dust nodded, keeping her eyes guarded.

All those months ago, she had also expressed concern about a fellow cryptid. Deakes cast his mind back.

‘Until Eddie,’ he said. She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes, informing Deakes he was right. ‘Tell me what happened.’

Dust paused before answering. ‘I was going to tell you anyway. Someone at ARC killed Eddie.’

‘Who?’

‘I don’t know. Harris opened an investigation but it led nowhere.’

‘That's why you’re helping Andrea, so she’ll keep digging around for you.’

‘Not as green as you look, are you?’ she said with a genuine smile. ‘She promised me years ago she’d find his killer. I’m still waiting.’

‘Is that why you’ve been following me?’

‘Yes. I don’t trust Andrea any more. For all I know, she’s the one who killed Eddie.’

Deakes bristled at the thought of Andrea being a murderer. He had seen her fight for the safety of a number of cryptids. The idea that she was capable of taking a life was preposterous to him.

‘You’re new to the organisation,’ Dust continued. ‘And you’ve just proven your integrity in there. I want you to find out who’s responsible.’

*

After promising Dust that he would consider her request, Deakes returned to Andrea who was waiting in his car as he’d asked. He told her about the children-who-were-not-children and the squalor in which they lived. Before Andrea could fire off all her questions, Theo arrived and announced that he and Cruise were willing to visit ARC to entertain Deakes’s offer of assistance.

Two days later, Deakes was with Andrea and Harris in the interview room. Across from them, the non-children sat back in the comfortable chairs. Their feet dangled off the edge, and their large eyes took in everything.

Dr Zhu Jing, the Chinese man who refused to speak English, had been in and left a tray of herbal drinks. As he poured himself a cup, Harris explained that the mix of herbs and spices eased internal tensions and promoted an honest conversation. He took a sip and grimaced.

Deakes recalled the time he had been in Theo’s place and had partaken in the ritual. The taste of lemon and burnt bark was a bitter memory but, as he wanted to instil confidence and trust, he leaned forward to take a cup. He gladly took the packet Harris proffered and popped in two sweeteners, making the drink almost bearable.

‘You’ve seen how isolated we are here,’ Harris said. ‘That provides the protection many of our residents need. As long as there are no racial squabbles, you will fit in well here. Tell me, what breed of cryptid are you?’

‘You don’t know?’ Theo countered. Cruise glared at him. He responded by blowing a raspberry at her.

She rolled her eyes then shuffled forward in her seat. ‘Ignore him, he’s cautious to a fault. We’re kobaloi. Have you heard of us?’

‘First encountered by the ancient Greeks, I believe,’ Harris answered as he poured out two teas. He passed one to Cruise and pushed another in Theo’s direction. ‘If I’m to consider letting you in here at the Asylum, we’re going to have to trust one another. Please take this, otherwise we won’t be able to progress.’

‘What if we don’t want to stay here?’ Theo asked.

‘If you weren’t open to the possibility,’ Harris replied, ‘we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’

‘Theo,’ Cruise snapped.

He put his tongue between his lips, saw the intensity of her glare and decided not to respond. Instead, he lifted the cup and took a sip. ‘Tastes like armpits,’ he moaned.

‘It’s an acquired taste,’ Harris admitted. ‘Try these.’ He held out the packet of sweeteners.

‘I like armpits,’ Theo said and took another swig.

‘You’re a disgrace, Theo Rathbury,’ Cruise said. She took the packet from Harris and popped one of the small tablets into her tea. After lifting the cup to her lips, she said, ‘Mr Deakes thinks we will be better off here than out in the world. What would you say to convince us he’s right?’

‘Your appearance is that of human children,’ Harris replied. ‘That means you wouldn’t get much respect out there. Here, you will be treated with dignity.’

Andrea added, ‘We have a worldwide network. If there are branches of your species you have lost contact with, we can facilitate contact.’

‘And what do you want from us?’ Theo asked. ‘What’s in it for you?’

‘For one thing,’ Deakes replied, ‘I’ll sleep easier knowing you’re no longer living in that hellhole.’

‘You can’t put a price on doing the right thing,’ Andrea agreed.

‘That’s very altruistic of you,’ Cruise said, but it sounded like an accusation.

‘Have you ever wondered why you maintain a young age?’ Harris asked. ‘We have a team of scientists and, if you’re willing to submit DNA samples, we may be able to identify the specific genome responsible. There are many humans who would kill for keeping their youthful looks. It could turn out to be quite lucrative.’

‘Thppt,’ blew Theo, and for once Deakes agreed with the childish reaction.

‘We’re to be your guinea pigs,’ Cruise said. ‘You’d cut us open to make your fortune?’ She placed her cup down so sharply, half the contents sloshed over the table. Deakes saw there was still a fair amount left in the cup.

‘Not at all,’ Harris replied quickly. ‘It would be entirely optional. A potential avenue of income should you wish to pursue it. And only for the benefit of yourselves.’

‘We’ve never needed money,’ Theo said.

Andrea asked, ‘How do you get by?’

‘We survive,’ Cruise said. ‘We make do. It’s gotten us this far.’

‘But here you could thrive,’ Harris said. ‘What do you say? Are you going to join us?’

Theo and Cruise looked at one another as they considered the proposal. Deakes witnessed again the flashes of expression as they communicated in their peculiar silent fashion. Then, as one, the two kobaloi turned to Harris and delivered their reply:

‘Thppt.’