Temere Mortis

Chapter Seventeen

"I heard you checked out a book," Max told Isla calmly. It was far from what she thought he was going to say.

"What?" Isla replied, flummoxed. Her grey eyes were wide with unanswered questions. "What are you talking about? How did you get here?"

"I followed you," he admitted, casually. His expression held no remorse, he was simply stating a fact. "And the book from the library, of course." Isla thought to the tome she had taken from the library under Mary's watchful gaze – 'How to kill and get away with it, a beginner guide to Temere Mortis by Levi Cooper'.

"What about it?" Isla questioned him accusatorily. "Don't tell me you want me to stop researching it too?" she laughed at the absurdity of it all. Rebel Max, suggesting she follow the rules.

"No, no, not at all." Max disagreed, shaking his head from left to right slowly. He held her gaze meaningfully as Isla grew more and more confused. He sighed in disappointment. "I want to prove that you can trust me," he explained, striding toward to grab her hands in his own, as if to give her comfort. "I want to research the virus with you."

"But why?" Isla begged of him. She heard a door open and close softly behind her back, but she payed it no mind. Max smirked as he said his final piece.

"These guys want to stifle you. They may have you convinced that they want what's best for you and they're fighting the system with this dumb party. But I want to help you, Isla, and I want you to trust me."

Isla's mouth opened and closed repeatedly. Not in wide motions, but her lips parted slightly as she tried to speak, before realising she had no idea what she wanted to say.

"You followed me?", was the question she decided upon. Max rolled his eyes.

"Yes, obviously. I had to make sure you'd be safe."

The idea that Isla wasn't safe in the confines of the governments pride and joy support group was laughable.

"But why wouldn't I be safe, Max?" Isla ran a frustrated hand through her long red hair. "And how is stalking someone normal?"

"We live in a world where obliviousness is dangerous, Isla," Max told her, assertively. "And these new friends of yours seek to leave you in the dark. I can tell you what happened to Alex, Isla. I just need you to let me."

A chill travelled down Isla's spine. Max towered over her in the alley way, enveloping Isla with the darker meaning of his words. 'I can tell you what happened to Alex', the sentence replayed in her head repeatedly. Bile rose in her throat like a serpent, threatening to escape her mouth.

"Alex is dead," Isla told him, but for some reason the words tasted like a lie on her lips.

"Do you know that, though?" Max goaded her. "Are you absolutely sure."

"Yes," Isla replied shortly, taking a step away from him and dropping his hands; he was scaring her. "I saw her die."

"Tomorrow, Piccadilly station at 3pm." Max barked the order in Isla's face as she turned to leave in anger. She heard the loud bang of a door but didn't see anyone against the grey backdrop of the breezeblock wall.

Isla paused, standing still as a statue in the sinister side-alley. She let Max's word's wade over her and drown her with their purpose

"Alex is dead," she stated, waiting for him to agree.

"Meet me tomorrow," he told her directly, ignoring her completely. He stepped towards her once again and took her hands in his. He rubbed soothing circles on the meaty part of her palm. His eyes were begging, pleading with her to believe him and Isla found herself sucked in.

"Okay," she agreed cautiously, not entirely sure why she was agreeing. Max grinned triumphantly.

"I'll tell you everything," he promised her. Isla's head was racing.

"I'm going home," she announced, pulling away from his embrace. She didn't fancy returning to the party and after the stunt Max had pulled, Isla would be surprised if they left her back in - snitches get stitches and all that.

"I'll take you," Max tried to insist, looking overjoyed in his apparent victory.

"No," Isla snapped harshly. "I'd rather go on my own if it's all the same to you." Max nodded, as if he understood what she was going through. She was sure however that no one understood.

If Max was to be believed, Alex was alive. The idea was impossible. Isla had seen the light drain out of her eyes herself. But if he spoke even an ounce of truth the questions that swam in Isla's brain overwhelmed her. She felt a tear slip out of her eye, then another and another until she was full-blown crying as she ran all the way home.