Flashfire

Ch32

Caleb stared glassy-eyed at the fridge while Liam stood in place, then later sat in a chair at their kitchen table. He didn't want to say anything that would break his concentration, but this was taking a lot of time. Liam watched every facial twitch expecting for Caleb to get what he needed to get, but it seemed that it would never come through clearly to him. As psychic as his Caleb was, there was something that was keeping him from seeing.

"Liam," he said.

Liam turned to discover that Caleb had turned from the fridge, a grave look on his face.

"What is it, Caleb?"

Liam could swear that his heart leapt.

"Let's check the dresser drawer," Caleb said.

"What's in there?" Liam asked.

"Something that has got to make you remember," Caleb answered. Caleb opened their door and pulled open the dresser drawer, the surface that he had set the book on many times but that he had never used to store anything. "Please still be here."

"Caleb, what-"

Liam stared down into the drawer, empty of everything except for a missing tea towel coated in blood stains.

"That was the white fabric you saw! You know, when you thought it was a bed sheet." Liam sounded more excited about that than he thought he should.

"Yeah!" Caleb responded. He turned and looked carefully at Liam. "Do you remember anything yet?"

"No." Liam shook his head. Then, he paused for a long moment, staring down into the old blood that had gone completely brown with age. "Wait."

Caleb gasped.

Liam peered into it for a moment longer.

"No," he said.

Caleb closed his eyes, appearing so disappointed.

Liam forced a smile. "Wait, I might."

He concentrated very hard, but there was nothing.

Caleb opened his eyes, pupils dilating as he locked onto him in the dim room. "Are you saying that to make me feel better?"

Liam began to turn red. Even in the afterlife, Caleb made his dead heart race and his cold skin set to flames.

"Why don't you find something in here to scry on?" Liam suggested.

Caleb looked deep in thought. "Yes, good idea. Maybe if we're closer to what we have found we will find more. God I hope so. Please don't let that be the only-"

Liam put a hand on Caleb's arm.

Caleb blew out a breath. "Alright."

"The mirror is dark now that the light is off," Liam said.

Caleb walked up to the mirror and breathed deep. For a long moment Caleb looked in the mirror and Liam settled onto their bed. Everything was dark and quiet. Liam was hit with a wave of panic that shattered the peaceful moment all at once, and he grabbed the pen and notepad off of the night stand. It had belonged to Paul but they had never given it back. It was completely blank, inconsequential and Paul never asked for it back.

Liam began writing furiously on the bed, while Caleb was entranced in the mirror. Liam breathed heavily, blowing out in ragged huffs as the panic pressed like an iron onto his chest and spread outward. It was almost painful, and hot. His head and chest began to pound with an unnamed determination to write something, but what? The words filled the page, incoherent scribble at first, as his hand couldn't properly hold the pen.

His words became legible as he managed to steady his hand, though barely enough to make out. It read:

Dear Caleb, don't look for me. I'm sorry.

Liam stood and began to pace with the pad clutched tight in his hand. He held it to his head as he clutched his auburn hair with the other, bumping into Caleb with his elbow. All at once, they turned to one another. As if nothing had even happened, they settled into natural conversation. Or rather, a supernatural one.

"I saw the cabinet in the living room," Caleb said.

"Why don't you ever Spring clean this place?" Liam said.

"There's no point. It's all going to be gone soon anyway." Caleb looked down at the notebook in Liam's hand. "I saw a...pen in there. Liam, what is that?"

"I don't know. I just started writing," Liam said.

Caleb took the pad from Liam's hand. His eyes scanned the page before he locked onto him. "Liam, were you going somewhere?"

"No," Liam said immediately.

Caleb's shoulders slumped. "Let's go."

They entered the living room and Caleb pulled open the drawer he had seen, taking out the pen. He let out a small gasp. There was a tiny streak of blood on the cap.

"That looks familiar," Liam said. Another wave of fear hit him. As if moving through molasses, he walked closer to Caleb and took the pen carefully in his hand. Their bank's name was printed on the side with their website below. The blood covered the N and K. "I think that I used this pen."

Caleb's face crumpled. "I thought so."

Liam looked back at the page. "We should look for that note, right?"

"Yes."

Caleb stood there, unmoving.

"Did you see where we should look?" Liam asked.

"The note that you were writing on in my vision looked like a page in our order pad."

Liam huffed. "Well, why didn't you say that? I would have stuck it on something, maybe. We should go look in the kitchen."

Caleb was still frozen, his face flushed.

"Hey, what's wrong? Are you having another vision?" Liam prodded him with a finger.

"I don't want to see it."

Liam dropped his hand. He scrunched his brows. "We have to see it, Caleb. There's no other thing that we could look for."

Caleb turned away, looking into the television screen. "Maybe I could find out what you were doing with that pen you're holding."

"Isn't it obvious?"

Caleb stared at the screen.

Liam put a hand on his shoulder. "Caleb, I don't think-"

"Let me focus!" Caleb swatted his hand away.

Liam stared at him in utter confusion, and a bit of frustration. Of course, now would be the time where he stalled looking for a very obvious lead. He was acting so weird.

Liam sighed, and waited, and waited.

"The TV isn't showing me anything."

"I was going to say that. It's dark but it's not a very shiny surface like a mirror or our fridge."

"Do you even know how scrying works, or was I the necromancer?" Caleb smiled teasingly.

It wasn't really the time, but Liam forced a smile back. "Can we go?"

"Yeah." Caleb dropped his eyes, hesitant to take the first step, but led the way to the bar.