The Runaways

Chapter Fifty-Eight - Conspiracies

Elias

Walking on my leg still hurt, it hurt a lot, but that wasn't my main concern. If I thought Remingtons behavior was suspicious before, I surely was prepared for these past few days. The more and more I observe him the more and more his behavior points to him being a Syndicate. I'm horrified. I need to tell someone. I've been meaning to talk to Corban but I need to in private, and since I was immobilized for the past few days that wasn't exactly possible.

I'm scared to even talk to Remington at this point. He could be planning everything, he could be some sort of spy for the Syndicates, he's obviously not spying on us but it would explain why he would disappear for days at a time. It would explain why the Syndicates ran us out in the first place instead of killing us, if they just needed money from Remington and he worked with them they obviously couldn't kill him. The more and more I thought about it the more it made sense, I mean Remington is already shady enough as it is and no one knows anything about him— hell I don't even know his exact age. Oh God. Who have I been living with for four years? Did I make a mistake when I found him in the snow? I still remember how weird that encounter was.

It was the middle of winter at night during a light snowfall. I was practically starving to death, I still don't know how I survived so long on my own. And then boom, I stubbles across Remington. He was lying face down in the snow and he was covered in blood, so much that the snow around him was turning red. I originally thought he was dead but when I walked over to see if he had anything useful on him I saw he was still breathing. As badly as I wanted to leave him and go on my way I could tell he had been out there for awhile judging on how much snow had piled on him and how cold his body was. Along with the fact every piece of clothing he had was basically torn to shreds by a good few stab wounds and tons of slash marks. He even had a knife sticking out of his shoulder.

I have this really vivid memory of having to drag him through the snow back to where I had set up a pathetic little tent. I remember thinking I wasn't going to make it and feeling like I was going to faint from being so malnourished while also dragging a half dead man for what seemed like a life time through the snow. I'm honestly shocked we both made it out alive especially after my horrible bandaging skills, and then when Remington woke up and freaked out he was with some stranger and tore off every bandage I put on him and then made his own and put it on himself. I don't know how he didn't get an infection or loose at least a finger to frost bite. But maybe all that was a mistake. What if I accidentally saved a top Syndicate. What if all of that was staged? Remington has told me time and time again that he was mugged and that was why he was beaten to a pulp and full of slashes on every inch of his body, but it just never felt like the real answer. It just seemed to simple. How did he live?

"Elias are you okay?"

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked over to seeing Corban staring at me as he walked next to me.

"Oh yeah I'm fine." I said a little bit too nervously.

"Are you sure? You don't want to take a break? I've watched your limp get more and more exaggerated the longer we've been walking and you're starting to slow us down a bit." Corban explained.

I glanced up seeing everyone else was still a good few yards ahead of us. Someone must've sent Corban over to ask if I wanted a break, I did have to admit my leg was killing me, I was just so busy worrying I brushed the pain off.

"Oh uh yeah we could take a break, but I actually want to talk to you for a second." I said as I lowered my voice.

Corban's calm and monotone demeanor suddenly turned nervous, "About what..?"

I gave him a strange look, "Is something going on?"

"What? No. Why?"

"You look all nervous now." I said.

"Well you got all serious first! I'm just worried about what you're going to say." Corban said rather more defensively than usual. Is there something going on with him too.

"Okay well— I think Remington might be a Syndicate." I whispered.

Corban's nervous look quickly became more relaxed, "Why because Warren's brother said so?"

"Not only that! If you think about it all of it adds up, him leaving for days at a time, everyone being after him, how down right shady he is, Corban I don't even know his age! He says he's twenty-nine but that's the ages he's been telling me for four years!" I exclaimed in a whispery tone.

"Elias, look I see how that all makes sense but I'm telling you there's no way in hell Remington was a Syndicate. You and I both know he's no where near smart enough nor is he responsible enough to escape that situation. The few people who do manage to escape being Syndicates are a lot smarter than the guy who thought it was a smart idea to pee in a broken glass bottle and put his dick right up to the sharp glass part and getting it cut." Corban said.

"Okay well I've told you how I found him! They probably left him for dead or he's some spy or something and that was a set up and all of this is just him playing a character! To lower our guard!"

"I want to believe you Elias because I too would like an answer on why Remington is the way he is but it just seems like too much of a stretch for me. Do I think Remington is involved in shady shit? Absolutely but I don't think he's Syndicate level shady."

"Elias are you okay? What's going on?" Warren asked as he walked over to us probably wondering why this interaction was taking so long. He had been acting antsy all day and has been pushing us to keep on going. I mean I don't blame him he's wasted a lot of time getting sidetracked with us instead of finding his kid.

"It's nothing he's fine, he's been sitting around too long and he thinks Remington is a Syndicate or something." Corban said.

Warren looked at Corban and than looked at me, most of the time Warren had this unreadable expression on his face but he looked at me in a way that only made me feel more freaked out. He gave me an almost surprised look— well as surprised as Warren can express —but not quite? I felt like he knew something I didn't and it made my stomach churn. Warren then looked back towards Corban, "Did he say he needed a break or no?"

"Actually yeah I would like a break if that's possible." I said as I smiled nervously.

Warren nodded, "Do you need me to look at your leg or do you think it's fine."

"I think it's fine thank you though." I muttered.

"Alright let me or Corban know if anything at all feels worse. We can have you getting an infection." Warren said.

"I will thanks."

I feel like Warren knows something I don't. Maybe his aversion to Remington wasn't just a clash of personalities.