Voices

Chapter 6

  I stepped on the gas as the car came hurtling down the road. Anyone in my way would surely not survive, but there was no one there. I sped up the road, faster, faster, faster. I had to get to this infected person.

  Minutes had passed by as time slowly moved forward. I wasn't making progress, not at all. I was seven out of the six hundred and 30 kilometers done. My thoughts were left playing as I continued driving down the highway.

  What happened to the girl? And if so, why is the person I'm heading to still alive? Those were some of the important questions running around my head, over and over and over.

  Half an hour had passed and I was nearing the house, it was already visible. It was a normal house with a twist; the thermal camera I had brought showed high temperatures. Higher than normal.

  I finally arrived at 164 Brooks Street, and right beside where I had parked my car was an orange house. The exterior walls were decorated with abstract art. Black irregular dots blocking what would have been a completely orange-painted house.

  "I don't think we should be busting inside a person's house, sir," one of the three government workers who, as the CIA head said, were 'temporarily stuck with you, haha' announced with a shaky voice.

  "Who said we were busting?" I replied with a fake grin on my face. Was my voice shaky too? I headed up the front door and rang the doorbell.

"Hello? Anyone home?" I asked the door, unsure what I was going to find out next. Oh, and I was pretty sure someone was home.

  No answer. I waited for five minutes before ringing again.

  As you can see, I'm very, very patient.

  "Hello?" I asked again, louder this time. I figured it was time to pull out my trick. "Well, I guess no one's coming... I'll leave it here, then. Your mother wanted it."

  There was silence for five seconds, before I could hear the sound of someone rushing through. "Wait, wait!" a kid shouted, fumbling for the door. I could hear the sound of the door opening, and I saw him.

  "Jason?"

  "Uncle Chase?"

  We just stood there, dumbfounded. Wrong address, maybe? I was pretty sure it was. There was a war, occurring in my head. We also spoke simultaneously at that point in time.

  That was when I noticed some huge amounts of red paint across the floor, one huge stroke from the sofa all the way to one of the rooms further ahead.

_______________________

  "I see that you've moved houses again," Uncle Chase inquired. "Rent?"

  At that point in time, I was too busy to even speak. I just looked carefully at his eyes, his eyes which landed on the red, deep red blood.

  "O- oh, yeah," I scratched my head, feigning confusion. " No. We're permanently living here now."

  "I see."

  "Why're you here, Uncle? And who are those?" I pointed at the three men behind him, in tuxedos.

  "Well, erm, you see, I-" he got cut off by one of those tuxedo guys. He came over and looked at me, the blood after.

  "Where's your parents, kid?" he asked, his eyes still on the blood.

  "Work," I replied.

  "What's that?" he inquired more, his fingers pointed to the blood.

  "Oh, that, haha," I tried to laugh it off. "Spilled some paint."

  "I don't see any canvas."

  "I was about to take it out before you came."

  He looked at me again. In fact, everyone else was staring at me. I could feel their eyes burning holes straight through me. He then left the scene. "Sir, let's go," he told my uncle as he passed him. Uncle Chase then made an apologetic face.

  "Sorry for bothering you, Jason," he spoke. "Seems like we got the wrong address."

  "It's fine. See you next time, Uncle." I waved after him as they got into his car and they sped off.

  That was close. 

  They nearly found my dead mother.