Dead Beat (❌)

Chapter Eight

Alfie

"You're kidding... Right?" I chuckle weakly, elbowing him a few more times in the side just for him to grumble and step out of the way.

"Why would I joke about this?" he sighs, shaking his head in slight annoyance. "The last thing I want is people to think this is all Dad's fault."

"Why would they think that?" I ask, hugging myself lightly. Even this small space between Johnie and I makes me uncomfortable, but I don't want to be needy. We're the older brothers and Dad trusted us with this.

"Do I have to explain it?" Johnie looks at me like I'm stupid. "A house full of bodies with the kids missing, and you don't think they'll suspect the parents first?"

"Okay, you do have a point," I pout, his annoyance becoming my own. "But Dad seemed really against it. Maybe he thinks they won't believe him or maybe he knows more than he's telling us?"

I can't help but feel a bit mistrustful towards our father as all this information runs through my head.

Someone usually doesn't involve the police if they themselves aren't completely innocent, right?

Does that make Dad guilty? Is he hiding something?

"Oh, Dad definitely knows more than he's telling us," Johnie confirms my fears, but when I peer over at him he looks extremely worried. "I just want to know why he wants to handle it all alone. We're not little kids, I just wish he'd lean on us a bit more."

"Does it really surprise you that he's not?" I ask, pulling my gaze away to stare down at the concrete sidewalk beneath us, tightening my arms around myself. "We don't really know him that well, John, what if he's behind all this?"

Expecting my brother to either agree or flip out on me, I close my eyes to prepare for both outcomes, but I realize that my own footsteps are all I hear on the concrete, making me immediately pause and look back where my twin is just frozen in place, staring forward.

"I mean, I-I don't want to believe it either, but he hasn't given us a-any reason to trust him!" I splutter, quickly scampering over to close the distance between us, but I'm met with a firm hand to my chest that almost knocks the wind out of me.

"Alfie..." Johnie mutters ever so softly, still frozen solid with his eyes locked on something behind me.

Afraid to turn around, my hands curl around the wrist of the hand he has against my chest, and I feel my muscles begin to tremble again as I dig my nails into his skin.

"Wh-What's wrong?" I whisper back just as quietly, unsure of why we're speaking so low in the middle of the street in broad daylight.

Confused and starting to internally freak out all over again, I desperately clutch my twin's wrist as I patiently wait for his answer and peer back the way we came, something catching my eye off to the side.

Blinking a few times towards the small motel where we left Dad and Anny, I notice a large patch of woods behind the building, which isn't necessarily unusual.

Small Hill is a town not even an hour's drive from home, even our own neighborhood mostly surrounded by woodlands, but something about the trees in the distance throws me off guard.