Keep Running

Chapter 28 - Caroline

We don't go outside.
"Don't," my dad said, his hand on my arm, "When do we go outside?"
"When you say it's safe," I mumbled, pushing hair out of my face.
"And when is it safe?"
"Never."
"That's right. You have to stay in here. Do you want them to take you away?"
"Who would take me away?"
"The bad people. They're always going to be coming after us. Always. You have to stay in here now. You have to stay safe, okay?"
"Okay, daddy."
"Stay with your brother. I'll be back in a few hours."
"Okay, I love you daddy."
"Stay here now. Take care of your mom."
"What if bad people come after you?"
"Then I'll stop them. I won't let them get you."
"Okay."
Bad people are always coming. They are always coming. I put my face down on the hotel bed. We aren't necessarily any closer than we were.
"We knew it was a long shot," Ben says, sitting on the other bed, cleaning a gun.
"Yeah, we did," I say, tiredly, "Is it wishful thinking that I have dreams about him? Do you think all that's made up and he is dead?"
"What kind of dreams?"
"Like different, like that's he's scared somewhere. Or sad. And I can't help him. Or sometimes I hear him crying. Once I swore I heard a man's voice. Screaming. I just---I want it to be that he's reaching out to me. Because he's telepathic. He's still finding me somehow," I say, looking at the cracking polish on my finger nails.
"Maybe."
"Tell me what you really think?" I say, looking up at him, "I just wanna know."
"I really think that the last time I saw him, he was dying of malnutrition because he wouldn't eat for them. And he kept killing the people they had taking care of him. And they were giving him formula instead of the milk, and it was making him sick. And that I don't see how a baby could live when he was so close to death that they let me come in to try to feed him. And I did once and then they didn't let us back. And I don't think they let us back because he was already dead," Ben says, looking out the window and not at me.
I nod.
"But also think that Hegan's are stubborn bastards. And that if anyone could survive all that just to give 'em hell, your kid could," he says, smiling a little at me, "And that even if it isn't him out there. Somebody walked in there and saved that little girl. And there are dozens of boys who grew up in cages whose mothers are somewhere waiting for them. And that even if we don't find Rowan, then we'll find someone. And that he'd want us to."
"Yeah," I say, smiling a little too, for him, "What would dad say?" I don't remember our father. Not really. I was too little when he died. Just bits and pieces of a moment. I don't even know his face.
"Dad would say we're both fucking stupid to ever leave the house," Ben laughs, drinking from a hip flask, "He'd ask me what the hell I was doing letting you get this close to the 'bad people', and why the fuck I let you get knocked up to begin with."
"Would he use fuck that much?" I don't remember him swearing.
"Definitely. Mom would also not want us to get caught," Ben says, shrugging, "I have confidence in us though."
"Mom would tell you not to drink so much."
"Mom would be wrong. Come on, show me your pictures," He says, coming over to join me on my bed.
"These are all the ones I've done of Rowan," I say, showing him the age progressed images.
"It would help if we knew who his father was," he mutters, taking the laptop.
"Well, shut up, I'm not perfect," I say, leaning against him to look too.
"Just saying, I am. I can judge."
"Shut up. What do you think we do now?"
"You don't like my plan of hanging out in the greater Seattle area looking for a guy with scars like tears on face?"
"No, I think it involves you getting lots of booze and weed and pretending to go along with the plan while I actually do the plan."
"It does, but that doesn't make it bad. Come on now, it's late you should sleep," he says, going back to his bed, and moving a dog so he can sit down again.
"All right," I say, but I know I won't sleep. When I close my eyes I hear the screaming. Every single time. It's been like that for the past two days. I know it's psychological. But. That doesn't make it go away.