Cogent

TWENTY-THREE

         

Kaleb woke in a cold sweat, thinking he must've only slept for a few minutes. Jen was next to him on the couch, her body draped in such a way that she looked contorted and inhuman. She hadn't acted human for a long time anyway, so he supposed that it was an accurate representation of her true self. The kind of person who would lock one son in a shed and beat the hell out of the other couldn't be anything other than a monster. If that was true, why did he feel guilty whenever she looked at him?

Stretching his arms overhead, Kaleb let his muscles flex and enjoyed the burn. It was nice to be in a space that didn't smell like dirt and mildew. Lenny's basement was clean and organized—empty now too, but the rest was the same. It was the safest place he could think to go last night after they got rid of the car. Jen hadn't wanted to come inside. It was as if she knew what had happened here. A sixth sense. Maybe she just didn't like empty houses. And she wouldn't shut up about Tucker.

"Where is he?" she muttered in her sleep, turning her head so that her hair fell into her mouth. "Tucker, baby..."

Kaleb got up from the couch and walked over to the stairs. Crouching down, he crawled underneath them and curled up. He didn't want to be near her, or her dreams, or her voice. There was a time when he would have done anything to be this close to Jen. But those days were gone. After what he heard her say to Noah, what she had done to him, slapping him like that when all he did was ask for her help...Kaleb was done. Done with her, and her insanity, and most of all, her hatred for her own children. But at least she appeared to hate herself just as much as she hated them. It shouldn't have made him feel better to know that Jen was just as terrible at taking care of herself as she was at caring for her sons. Yet, it did.

Kaleb shivered, cold in the open space and damp from the rain. They had walked nearly two miles from the drop-off spot in order to get here. It was late fall, and rain was an inevitability. He just wished that the electricity was still on in Lenny's house so that he could turn up the thermostat. Based on the chill in the air, he figured the utilities must have been switched off weeks ago.

Kaleb sniffed, feeling congested. He might be coming down with something. Across the room, Jen coughed in her sleep. He had already gone upstairs and searched for blankets or tablecloths—anything that could be used for heat. But there was nothing left in the house other than the couch in the basement and some empty bookshelves upstairs. A real estate sign outside let him know that the house was for sale. Kaleb figured there wouldn't be any prospective home buyers stopping by at night, but when morning arrived it would be a different story. He would need to find a safer place to take Jen—somewhere no one would bother them. He thought of the basement at the school and figured that would be the best place. Noah had shown him where Keith left the spare key, so he knew he could get in. It was getting there in the first place that presented the biggest obstacle. He didn't know if the police were looking for them. Was it worth the risk to wait in Lenny's basement for Noah to come and find them?

Shuffling backward, Kaleb pressed himself up against the wall. He was trembling from the cold and anxiety. Where was Noah, and why hadn't he found them yet? It had been hours since they parted ways. That was plenty of time for his brother to figure out where they were. Wondering about it filled Kaleb with a sense of dread. What would he do if Noah never came back?

            Don't think about that, he told himself. Noah would find them. He always did.

***

The door was closed when Noah woke up. He distinctly remembered Tess leaving it open the night before, but it didn't matter as long as it wasn't locked. To figure that out, he'd have to get out of bed and turn the knob. There was just one problem with that: he couldn't move. He wasn't paralyzed by drugs, but rather by the intensity of the ache in his bones. Everything—especially his face—felt swollen and stiff. Moving his arms felt like lifting a couple of thick branches. And his legs...it just wasn't going to happen.