Broken and Together

Chapter Twenty-One: Peril

    Michael felt Henry's hand grip his tighter. "What?" He paled, staring at Michael with eyes that gradually widened.

    "There's a lot Charlie and I haven't told you," he said to Henry. "The job was dangerous, which I mean, duh of course it was. But we stayed, because we wanted to find out why the animatronics were like this, how my sister died, and if perhaps—" he clenched his teeth, anger and sorrow lingering at the very thought— "if it had been done on purpose. My father just confirmed it, and now he's going after Charlie. She's back at the rental service. We have to go now."

    Michael expected Henry to argue over this or question what he had said. The man did no such thing, immediately nodding. "I'll go see if I can stop him, and as for you, you have to stay here."

    "What? No way." Michael sat up straighter, straining against his throbbing injury. "I have to go."

    "Organs were literally ripped from your body, Michael," Henry said, turning to leave. "You can't risk it. You need to recover, and—"

    "No." Michael reached over the side of the bed and grabbed Henry's arm, making him stop. "Charlie is my best friend, she means more to me than practically anyone. I can't just sit and do nothing when she's in danger, especially from my own father." As Henry looked over his shoulder, Michael locked eyes with him. "Let me come. Please."

    Henry only paused a moment before nodding. "Alright. But we're already wasting enough time. Let's go." Relaxing, Michael nodded back. Straining what felt like every muscle in his body, he heaved himself out of bed. He staggered when his feet touched the floor. Henry steadied him, then together, the two left the building, Michael snagging his clothes off the table by his room door as they exited. The moment they got into the car, Henry turned the ignition and hit the gas. They sped out of the parking lot. Grunting in pain, Michael struggled to change in the backseat, silently cursing the terrible clothes of the hospital. He somehow managed to tangle it in the seatbelt as he yanked it over his head. After properly changing—into clothes not covered in blood much to his relief; it seemed either Henry or Charlie had brought him fresh clothing—he focused on the road, his breaths hurting his aching body. However, he refused to let the pain get the better of him. Charlie was more important.

    Henry glanced in the rearview mirror, and having seen Michael was finished, said, "I already knew you and Charlie kept things from me. We almost discussed it in the waiting room, but she needed more comfort than anything, so I did not bother her with questions. We haven't had the chance to speak over it since then." He let out a deep sigh. "This is exactly what I was afraid would happen. Dangerous animatronics...and William himself." He sneered, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "So what exactly did he tell you?"

    "Not much, surprisingly," Michael said, his voice tight and hard. "Just told me the animatronics of the rental shop were made for killing children and blathered on about ridiculous and horrible things about me, Elizabeth, and other kids. He also tried to...kill me." He shuddered. "I don't know what else he's done, but—"

    "The missing children," Henry cut in, sounding angrier by the minute. Michael was vaguely surprised by the rage he could hear building. He'd always seen Henry as a gentle man.

    "Missing children?" Michael said. "What do you mean?"

    Henry turned sharply onto another street. "The news was kept quiet, for fear of the franchise's reputation. William has always had a way with keeping such things secret and from the public eye. It's part of the reason we had that doctor I took you to." He shook his head, displeasure creeping over his features. "I never liked it, but I tolerated it. Anyway, to answer your question, several children went missing at the last pizzeria...and even a few at the diner." The anger on his face diminished to one of grief, pure sorrow. "One of which was..." He trailed off.