Disenchanted (Frerard + Petekey)

Saturday Pt.3

He has to be okay.
He has to be okay.

The rhythm of Mikey's sneakers slapping against the pavement matched the rhythm of his thoughts, his heart beating double-time as the blood pounded in his ears.

He tried to keep some of his attention attuned to the sounds of traffic, making sure to get off the road whenever a car came up behind him.
He'd taken all the shortcuts he knew, trying to take a route his mother wouldn't be able to follow if she came after him in the car.

He'd lost track of time long ago, his legs had started burning pretty early on. He hadn't exerted this much energy in years and his body was protesting, but he didn't care. His only thought was on getting to Pete.
Getting there and making sure he was okay.

He could see the flashing lights before he even reached the street.

The sky was beginning to change color, a tangerine-orange spreading slowly across the horizon.
His stomach turned over as the flashing blue and red lights caught his eye, reflecting off the neighbouring windows and intermingling with the skyline, tainting its beauty.

There were two police cars parked end-to-end at the head of the road, blocking it off.

They'll stop me.
Gotta find Pete.

Mikey opted for an alternate route, turning to cut through the clean-cut backyards that lined the street Pete's grandmother lived on.
He popped back onto the sidewalk as the caution tape came into view. He was still three houses away and while he couldn't make out any details yet, the yard was swarming with people.

Police officers wandered about, stooping to peer at sections of the lawn. An ambulance was parked at the curb, doors flung open to reveal an empty cab, no paramedics in sight. There were a few neighbours sitting on their front steps, talking with various officers. A slender man with a camera was circling the area, the flash of it adding to the light pollution of the sirens.
Beside the ambulance, stopped crookedly in the middle of the street, was the very van his mother had heard about on the radio.
It was large and white, with a siren on top. There were no windows in the back, a logo occupying the space read, in police lettering, 'Forensics Unit 2'.

He stopped in his tracks, the reality of the situation finally hitting home.

No....
No no no.
This can't be real...

One of the policemen speaking with the neighbours noticed him then. Waving to the people he'd been speaking with he made a beeline for Mikey.

The boy was frozen.
He watched the man approach, tucking the notepad he'd been writing on into his breast pocket and calling in a fake-cheery voice, "Hey! You live around here?"

That was all he needed to break the trance.

He took off like a shot, up the driveway towards the house.

"Wait!"

"You can't go in there! This is an active crime scene!"

"Somebody stop that kid!"

The shouts of various emergency personnel rang out around him. He ducked swiftly under the outstretched arms of a man in a medical mask without breaking his stride.

There were three steps leading up to the front door. He had his foot on the lowest one when he noticed it.

The corner of the second step was cracked almost completely off, the broken cement scattered around. The area it had been attached to was covered in a reddish-brown substance he knew in his heart was blood.