6 Cranbrooke Avenue

Chapter 28

I called my father to watch the news but he said that he was busy.

"The bodies of fourteen teenage males have been found mutilated by a farmer." The news reporter said.

They could have put that a better way because I wasn't sure whether the farmer had killed the boys, or he had just innocently found them.

"Around three p.m. today, I was walking around my crops when I found around fourteen bodies on the ground in my orange orchard all looking badly chewed up in the chest area.  So I called the police and when they got here, I showed them the bodies, and they closed off the area and said I couldn't cross their police tape.  But I need those fruits to sell to survive.  So I don't know what I'm going to do now as the crops outside of the tape ain't in season yet.  They say they're gonna have to question me, but I ain't do nothing except find the bodies." The farmer explained.

"The identities of eight of the boys have been identified as students of the Flitchery School, so it is now assumed that they are the missing students from...Wait...I apologize for the mistake.  The missing boys from Simon Downs.  So Simon Downs not Flitchery." The news reporter continued and gave a little fake chuckle, probably to cover up his shame.

So where was the other one?  There were fifteen boys on the trip.  Was he the one who killed them and then ran?  Or was he the only one safe from something/someone dangerous out there?  I hoped it wasn't the latter, because at least I wouldn't have had to worry about any magical creature from Eligathy, as that could have been a possibility.

"Wait, where is the bus driver and the teacher in charge?" I meant to say it in my mind but it came out of my mouth instead.

"What?" My father asked and walked into the living room.

"It was just this on the news.  They found fourteen dead boys and a few of them were identified as Simon Downs students, so they assumed that the the rest are students there as well.  But before the trip, Anthony told me that there were fifteen students going on the trip.  So something is up.  Unless the fifteenth person jumped out at the last minute or he is the killer or he is a survivor of a vicious attack.  But where are the bus driver and teacher?"

"So what are you implying?"

"What if when you guys closed the portal in house number six, another one opened up somewhere else, and another set of Djinns came through and they are the reason for these deaths?"

"Even if that happened.  It wouldn't be our problem anymore." He said.

Before my aunt left to go back to her home, she convinced my father to quit hunting and he did.  He actually did.  He turned his back on a family tradition that could have come in handy to figure out what was going on.

"Even if another portal opened up somewhere and Djinns came through, they would not be our attackers this time.  I saw the story on my phone.  The boys were bitten not stabbed, so they weren't killed by Djinns.  This is all new to me.  No creature from Eligathy I have seen or read about has teeth that could have caused the type of bite marks that were described.  Not that it's my business anymore anyways.  It could even have been a regular animal or something."

It could have been a regular animal, but I couldn't believe that the news was not enough to get him back into hunting.  I wondered what my aunt had bet with him.  Was it money?  Alone time?  Together time?  But whatever it was, it kept my father away from hunting very well.

"But it could also be a mutation of some sort.  What if they were working on something in Eligathy, or something just happened by mistake or coincidence and created a killing machine that found its way to Earth?" I said.

"What if they were working on something here on Earth and Eligathy has nothing to do with it?  Even though that would still be dangerous."

"So you need to get active in it."

"The government pays people for that already."

Talking to my father was like pushing a wall.  My enthusiasm versus his disinterest were equal in strength and opposite as well, so, therefore, the resultant conviction was zero.

"You sound like those people who leave their garbage on restaurant tables." I said.  "I'm going upstairs."

I was going to start my research and I didn't care if my father wanted to help or not.  I walked to one of my windows to close the curtain and I saw Devon's mother moving out boxes towards her car.  So she was really going to leave without telling us?  Interesting.

I wasn't going to chase her and ask her where she going to move to or why she was leaving without telling us.  If she wanted to tell us, she would have already, and whether she did or didn't was her business and not mine.  I pulled the curtains together, grabbed my journal and dove onto my bed to write down what happened that day.

The next day when I went downstairs, my father handed me an envelope that he found on the doorstep addressed to me.  I opened it and pulled out a letter from Devon.

"Dear best friend," It read.