By August

Chapter 8

"THERE ARE INSECTS THAT FEED OFF OF BLOOD IN THIS DIMENSION???"

"Yes, Dal, it's okay."

"It doesn't feel okay."

"Yet it is."

"I don't like it---but we can continue till I find a way to destroy them."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"You're sure about this?"

"I'm sure."

"How many people have you kidnapped before?"

Dallas legitimately starts counting on his fingers. I let him too until he runs out of fingers.

"Okay, okay, you've done this, I'm just nervous."

"Always happens with a first kidnapping. It's truly fine, I will do the hard part and the killing if necessary," Dallas does not make me feel better.

"No! We're not killing anyone," I hiss.

"Spoil sport!"

"Dallas! We don't kill people."

"Fine. Fine. Next thing you know you're gonna say we don't maim people either."

"WE DON'T!!!"

"El, I don't think you understand what a kidnapping is."

"Dallas, I don't think you understand what the American Justice System is."

"Okay, we won't kill or maim people, we do frighten them, right."

"Frightening is fine."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Ding-dong.

"Okay, listen, Elton, I know you're sad about your sister but you seriously have to—OH MY GOD---mmmfag—g-agna-an-ga-geafffmmmmmmmGH——"

"Done," Dallas put a bag over her head and knocked her out, "Get her in the wagon."

We drag the wagon back to my house and carry Maize down to the basement where my dad's murder room is. There we duct tape her to a chair with an ample amount of duct tape and blind-fold her. I start to think this is wrong right when Dallas throws water in face and starts trying to slide toothpicks under her fingernails.

"Oh my god——boys you have to let me go—please let me go——"

"I want to hurt her!" Dallas struggles as I hold him back.

"No, we're not hurting anyone——Maize this is serious you need to tell us what happened that night," I say, as Dallas squiggles free and starts picking up his toothpicks disgruntled and sad.

"Keep him away from me," she shrieks.

"I will if you tell me what happened the night my sister died—why were you out biking in the woods to begin with?" I ask, folding my arms and making a show of not stopping Dallas from getting his torture devices ready.

"Can we waterboard her at least?"

"I don't know what that is."

"Nearly drowning then screaming 'talk' in her face as she gasps for air?"

"Probably not no——"

"Probably——Elton you could go to jail for this let me go——"

"Tell me how my sister died," I growl, "Or I will let him have at you! And I don't give a shit if you call the police!"

"Yeah, we can murder you, then I'll yeet our asses into the next dimension," Dallas says.

"Okay—okay———it's not my fault," Maize says. She's freaking out a little and breathing a lot.

"What happened?" I ask, "Why were you in the forest to begin with?"

"We were looking for Claire," she sighs.

"What?" I ask, "You said—"

"That was to make it simpler, okay? Some of the other girls—not me——were teasing Claire about your dad being a drunk——I told them to knock it off—"

"Bull, she was insulting our dad I think we should cut off a toe," Dallas has no chill.

"Hold on a second——so some people were teasing her—so she left?" I ask, "What happened to her bike?"

"She left on her bike. A bunch of us went after her, we didn't want anything to happen—we figured she was going home so we went into the forest to look for her thinking she'd taken a shortcut," Maize says.

"And then?" I ask.

"Nothing. We couldn't find her, so we thought she must've gone home and we went home. It wasn't till the next day we found out about the accident. She must've gotten a flat or something and decided to walk. I'm sorry Elton—nobody wanted that to happen——Elton——"

I walk away, tears running down my face. So she was sad and scared and lonely. And wanted to be home because even if dad does drink we aren't perfect that's not fair we still love him and she shouldn't have died sad like that.

"You'll stay here in case we need to harvest your organs——she could be lying El, that doesn't explain anything new," Dallas puts an arm around my shoulders and walks me up the basement stairs. I'm crying.

"It's not fair if they hadn't been mean to her she wouldn't have gone——"

"If your dad didn't drink she wouldn't have had reason to be upset—if he hadn't been trying to be nice and let her go to the sleepover she wouldn't have been there even——if he hadn't gotten her the bike she wouldn't have had the means to get home——if you'd cried when she left she might not have gone——there are a million if's El, it's nobodies specific fault and Claire would be the first person to tell you that," he says, taking both of my shoulders.

"You're right what if she is lying——"

"She could be. If I bent back her fingers, we might find out——"

"Let's not do that."

"We'll keep her there then, see if she changes her story when your dad gets home," he says.

"Okay," I say, nodding and blinking back my tears, "Okay, you're right."

"We have to move forward——this is proof she was in the woods longer that night. If they had a fight then they went to find her. The timing they gave the police may be off—not that they thought it mattered——but if the didn't leave the house together at 10:30, if she left at 9:00 or so and they looked for her—"

"Then that's easily an hour of unaccounted for time that anything strange could have happened in those woods," I say, nodding and taking a deep breath.

"We need to go back out there—at night, like she did."

"Dad will freak."

"That's good for him."