The Enemy Beside Me + The Liar Beside Me (Book 1 and 2)

Chapter 15

EIEN HAS THAT HABIT of letting people walk before him. At first, I thought he was just being polite, but as I observed more, I found out that he's using people as his shields. He says he's not in any danger. He's good at concealing whatever emotions are circulating in his tiny head—I don't mean that he's stupid. It's just his face is so small—but no one can mask their real state forever, especially a child. Give him a few more years, and maybe he'll master it.

Eien is watching out for someone. I can't bring myself to ask who. That's too personal.

One day, I was asking him about his skills. We had nothing to do after speaking with Alasdair, who, by the way, kept his eyes trained on Eien most of the time. The redhead at least tried to appear interested in my sports skills and history of modelling. I thought, yikes, Alasdair was that sharp. He could see behind Eien's pork pies.

But then, he said, 'Welcome aboard. Please enjoy your stay. Here are your card keys. Your room is also operated using your fingerprints and door codes. I know these are a lot, but we take security here seriously.' He shook our hands. I was about to breathe freely when my gaze danced back to Alasdair's face: He was staring at Eien again, as if he understood something I couldn't. If he knew about our lies, why bother?

'I can speak seven languages,' Eien answered, bringing me back to our topic.

'But can you speak them fluently?' I asked, stopping for a moment to let him catch up.

'I do think so. English is actually my fifth language.'

'Fifth language? You're a nutter.' Yeah, he doesn't speak English like a native speaker, but he's far more eloquent. Every time he talks to me, he has to dumb down his vocabulary. He knows tons—or plethora, according to him—of words that no one ever uses in a daily conversation. 'We have Cupcake for that, you know.'

'No offence, Mister Evans, but I do not wish to be like you.'

'What's that?' I asked, crossing my arms. 'What's wrong with being me?'

'Absolutely nothing. So far. However, what I am pertaining to is our second chance of crossing our paths. You were lost. You could not ask for help. You feared approaching somebody. You couldn't read the maps. You had to rely—'

I held my hands up. 'OK, I get it. I'm a guy who only knows one language. I'm helpless without Cupcake. Are you happy now?'

He tilted his head to the left. 'May I say that I have no idea why you act this way towards me? No matter what I do or no matter what I say, somehow, it is incorrect. Please do tell me: is it how I address you? Should I, perhaps, begin addressing you as Young Evans?'

I shrug. 'Dunno. You don't have to think too much about it, OK? I'm just an angry teenager, that's all.' And that's true. When did I start being angry all the time? Sure, I'm good at hiding it in public; people think I'm friendly; that I love children and animals. However, when I'm with my family, I become snarky and point out all of their flaws, even if no one's asking.

It's unfair to Mum and Uncle. Deep inside, I want to stop, but I can't.

* * * * * *

As my mum says, I don't ever get sick. Occasionally, I'll have a cold, but that's about it. Here in Zone 1, fever comes to me frequently. Ally says it must be my body adjusting to the new environment. Even with a splitting headache, I manage to glare at him.

Eien is in the kitchen, preparing a light breakfast for the three of us. When Ally insisted, Eien told him that, 'He needs you more now. Please do not leave his side.'

So, now Ally's sitting on the floor, asking for the cause of my pain. 'It's not the ordinary lurgy, innit?' I can't manage to answer, but my silence is enough.

'May I say that had also happened to me? My insides had become dry; I resembled an old, frail man. For a week, I was deceased,' Eien says as if it is the most normal thing to say. I hear him arranging the plates. His movements are gentle yet fast. 'However, I got revived.'

'So you recovered by then?' Ally asks, his voice travelling to the kitchen.

'No, sir. I'd also had a fever.'

'Is it like Jax's?'

'No, sir. I wasn't burning. I was running out of breath, and it did feel like thousands of huge needles were stabbing me.' I hear and feel the pain in his voice. He's much younger than me, so I can't imagine how he musta been scared.

'Enough talk...' I say between coughs. 'How are y-you going to m-move in without me?' It's a good thing the kitchen is only a few feet away from the bedroom. Although these two rooms sandwich the dining room, the walls are thin.

Eien comes back to the bedroom with a bowl of oatmeal. It has cereals and bits of fruits. 'I will try my best to heal you. If you do not get better for the next hour, then, I guess, I'll have to forget about my dream of meeting Mister Anderson again.'

Questions flood Uncle's face. I feel glad that, for once, he's the clueless one.

'M-maybe I c-could tell him where you l-live or...' I cough. '...or I could a-ask him f-for his n-number,' I continue. I'm not worried about him and Declan. I'm worried that this thing inside me might attack again whilst I'm in a class. Not only do I fear they might see me in a vulnerable state, but I also don't wish for them to know I'm a potential pyrokinetic.

I can't allow that to happen again.

Eien hands the bowl to Ally. 'Whilst I do appreciate your offer, I must decline it. I have my own reasons.'

* * * *

I've only had a few spoonfuls of oatmeal. Ally forced me to drink at least half a glass of water.

Now he's outside, waiting as Eien works his way to heal me.

Eien splays his fingers and bends his head, pressing it against my chest. 'I have to hear the beat of your heart. So far, it's normal.' And yet I feel like shit. 'This is good news. I may erase your pain in half an hour.'

The clock says half-past six. Even if I did get better, we'd still be late. It's impossible. The school has made that stupid requirement so no one or only a few guides could get in. If you missed a day, it wouldn't be their fault. Adults think they can cleverly hide their deception. Or maybe they don't even try because what can we do about it?

Whilst I'm musing, Eien grips my shoulders and whispers some prayers, I think. But they sound more like chants. I command myself to focus on this weirdness displayed before me. I also will myself not to tease him—'Oh, I didn't know you were into voodoo'— because as odd as our situation is right now, I can feel myself getting lighter.

'Now, what I will say next might sound preposterous,' he says, his eyes still closed. 'But you have to let me breathe into your mouth.'

Even if a headache is still wrecking my brain, I force myself to say, 'Like a CPR?' He nods. I groan. Guess there's no other choice.

Slowly, I open my mouth and wait for the dreadful moment. Eien opens his eyes and lowers his head, his face getting closer to mine. Oh God, oh no...

But no lips are connected as he blows into my mouth. As the heat cools down, somehow, I can hear my blood circulating and my heart thumping to a soft rhythm. This time, I'm not sinking but emerging from the burning pond. I don't have to claw my way out because I am floating away from it.

And as I descend from the air, as my feet touch the ground, I extend my arms, embracing the warmth surrounding me. It tries to go, to slink from my grasp, but I clench my hands, refusing to let it escape. Threads of fire burst from my closed fists. I don't shake it off. I am in charge of this fire, and I will control it as I please.

I hear a voice. It's usually Mum's, telling me to turn it off. This time, however, is different. The new voice tells me to turn the dial up and up until my whole body is on fire.

Turn it on. Turn it on. Turn it on...