The Runaways

Chapter Fourteen - A Shift

The sleeping man stares at us ready to defend himself at a moments notice. His grip is firm on the knife he's holding, it's a fancy one too. Sharp blade, a well made handle (from what I can see) and a decent size too. The sleeping man stares at us with piercing green eyes that stand out against the dark circles and eye bags under his eyes. He looks old, and tired. Older than Remington, maybe in his late thirties early forties. He has short blonde hair that curls uncontrollably. Along his face is short stubble that has been badly shaven just like Cleveland. The sleeping man isn't as tall as Cleveland, (who looks to be standing six foot six inches) however the sleeping man is taller than me, my guess is he's around six-one, six-two.
"Where's Cleveland?" He orders sternly.
"Hey hey look it's okay man," I say, "You're friend Cleveland is just outside, he said your name is Warren. Is Warren your name?"
The man seems a bit more relaxed by hearing that but doesn't let down his guard, "It is. However I do have more questions, what happened to that boys neck and why is there an unconscious woman tied up surrounded by chairs?"
"She attacked Corban," Reece said, "She tried choking him,"
"Right. I'd like to speak with Cleveland now please. You said he was outside?" Warren asks as he begins to back up out of the kitchen still holding the knife up.
"Yeah, he's watching for Syndicates with our friend," I nod.
He then turns his back and quickly makes it over to the door swinging it open, "Cleveland!" He calls.
I walk over and watch as Cleveland smiles at him before he gets a look of realization and frowns and looks at Warren with a sad look, "I'm so sorry Warren..."
"What? What happened? Why are we with these people? How long have I been asleep for? Did you get the papers? Why are you looking for Syndicates?" Warren asks almost seemingly in a panic.
Cleveland clears his throat, "This is Remington and his friends, they're letting us stay here for the night. You were only asleep for about twenty minutes."
"What about the papers?" Warren asks, "You got them didn't you?"
Clevelands face scrunches up as his eyes get watery, "I'm sorry..." He whispers.
Warren frowns, "Cleveland you had them--"
Cleveland then broke down into tears as the two stood there in the door way. Remington, who was standing outside only a few uncomfortable feet away from Cleveland flashed me an uncomfortable and desperate look.
"I'm sorry Warren... I'm so sorry..." Cleveland sobbed, "I h-had them, I really did b-but they were gonna h-hurt you if I didn't give them b-back... I-I tried to reason with them... But it didn't work-- they-- they were gonna hurt y-you I couldn't let that h-happen..."
"I thought I told you to get those papers at all costs, even if that means I die," Warren said in a soft voice.
Cleveland just stands there in the doorway crying, "I'm sorry Warren..."
It takes Warren a moment before he nods his head and let's out a sigh, "It's okay, you did the best you could kid," Warren then reaches out and pulls in Cleveland for a hug as Cleveland keeps crying.
Those must be some pretty important papers for there to be a grown man sobbing in the doorway of this woman's house we had just broken into.
Warren pats Cleveland on the back and pulls away from the hug, "We'll figure out a way to get them back. Otherwise good job finding us a place to stay," He then looks over at Remington, "Are you the person in charge here?"
"Yes, yes that's me, Remington, the grumpy guy with black hair is Elias, the one with the funky neck situation is Corban, and the girl is Reece." Remington says.
"Which girl? The one on the floor or the other one?" Warren asks, "Also is this your home because the more I'm in here the more I'm thinking it isn't."
"Okay look here's the deal," Remington says as he walks inside and closes the door behind him, "Our camp was raided by a group of Syndicates last night and we needed a place to stay so we're just borrowing, this woman's house until it's safe to go back. Now the only reason I let you and your friend Cleveland stay here was because there was talk of money--"
"Wait, wait, wait, there's syndicates around this area?" Warren asks.
"Yes, there all outside, that's why your friend came to us in the first place because the town is being raided as well."
"Do they look like they'll come this far out?" Reece asks.
"It doesn't look like it," Cleveland sniffles as he now sits on the couch hugging onto a pillow to calm himself down.
"But we'll still need to keep an eye on them just in case," Remington says, "But anywho, are you alright? Did they like bonk you on the head when you and your friend were after those papers or..?"
"No, no, I'm fine, I suffer from Narcolepsy, I had an...accident, several years ago and because of that my hippocampus is completely destroyed, meaning my sleep regulation is all over the place, I can't sleep at night and I'll fall asleep during the day. However the more emotional stress I'm under can lead to more episodes which is what you saw today." Warren exclaims.
"Is that why you look so tired?" Reece asks.
"Yes." Warren answers bluntly. His eyes drifted towards Corban, eyeing his injured neck, "You, Corban right? Let me look at what happened to your neck,"
We watch as Warren steps forward and gently puts a hand on Corban's shoulder as he looks at the small trauma signs long Corban's neck from being strangled.
"Pfft what does this guy think he's a doctor or something?" Remington teases.
"Neurosurgeon, actually," Warren corrects as he looks at the slightly bruising skin on Corban's neck.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Remington asked.
"Before the bombs were dropped I was a brain surgeon," Warren said as he took a step back from surveying Corban's neck and has now turned to look Remington in the eye while talking to him, "I have a doctorate in neuroscience and a minor in psychology, and four PHD's in the medical field."
"You have four PHD's?" I ask.
Warren nods.
"Wait wait wait," Corban says, "You, you wouldn't happen to be Dr.Warren Serrano the guy who wrote 'Psychology: Our Brains Algorithm'?"
"Yeah I also wrote a book. And I would've written another but then we went at war—"
"HOLY SHIT!" Corban exclaims, "YOU SERIOUSLY WROTE ONE OF MY FAVORITE BOOKS OF ALL TIME!"
This is new, I've never seen Corban this excited.
"I mean sure neuroscience and psychology isn't my number one favorite thing to read about but they're at least in my top five! I can't believe it! An author of one of my favorite books is right here in real life! Oh my God I have so many questions to ask you!" Corban explains as his face contorts into a giddy smile.
That's when I feel it.
A shift in power.
All this time Remington has been the one we've all naturally looked to for leadership. He's the oldest and frankly his con-man way of living actually helps him thrive in a world like this. He's a natural leader. He wants control and knows how to take it, he knows how to lead people.
But now with Warren here, a man who not only Corban is now fan-gurgling about but someone who in the five minutes he's been conscious has proved himself to be far more smarter than anyone else in the room. He threatens Remington's role as leader, he seems like more of a trust worthy, smarter, nicer person.
Looking over at Remington now I can already see his acknowledgement towards this. He's put on a fake confused face as he listens to what Corban is saying. He's making it look on the outside that he couldn't believe someone like Warren could be that great of a person. But I can already see his signs of stress. He's standing up straighter to make him look taller. His thumb nail is digging into his forefinger as he carelessly rests a hand against a bookcase.
It's funny to me how one man can receive all his happiness just by having three people listen to what he says. I'm curious to see how this will turn out. But I doubt Cleveland and Warren will stay for very long. Whatever those papers are seem pretty important to them.