The Nightscape

Compromised

Guy had made a few phone calls after he made that decision, calling in old favours and warning those he had on side that the rift was going to be healed. Lyra and Anya sat in silence, sipping at their drinks and half listening to his conversations with a growing sense of dread. They were both well aware that events had now been set in motion, like tipping over the first domino in a line. Except that when this line ended, they would both be separated from their families, if not dead. At some point, they ended up holding hands, silently supporting each other as they listened to Guy arrange rescuing Ettie and healing the rift. 

Finally, he put the phone down for the final time and looked at the two sat on his sofa. 

"Right, I have to head out and get things sorted, I need to get my sister back and make sure she's alright. You two are welcome to stay as long as you like, but Lyra, listen to Anya. She's in charge of your protection." Guy told her strictly. Lyra barely mumbled an affirmative before he was grabbing a gun from a draw and pulling his jacket on, hurrying out of the door with a solemn look on his face. Anya looked to her friend. 

"Well, it'll be safer if we get you back to the safe house, but we can always raid his bar before we go." She offered with her signature smile, though it lacked real joy. Lyra shook her head. 

"No, not if you're driving. You're bad enough as it is. Look, just take me back to the safe house and then you can go, alright?" Anya opened her mouth to protest, but Lyra just continued talking. "I know that Guy told you to look after me, but you've got family too. I'll be fine in the safe house with my dad, I want to spend some time with him anyway. I'm sure you want the same." Anya looked like she was going to keep arguing for a moment, but then her shoulders slumped and she nodded, a sad look in her eyes.

"You're right. I need to tell my parents, and get ready to say goodbye. Come on then, I'll drive you back." Anya said, finishing her drink and standing up. Solemnly, the two of them left, Anya punching in the alarm code like it was second nature. The drive back to the safe house was done in silence, both of them stewing in memories and thinking about how soon they would be torn away from the world they had grown up in. Finally, they pulled up in the driveway. 

"Thanks, Anya, I'll see you later-" She started as she unbuckled her seatbelt, only to be cut off as Anya flung her arm over her friend's chest, holding her in place. She was staring at the house. More specifically, at the front door that was hanging off its hinges. 

"Lyra, stay here." She instructed, opening the glove box and pulling out a gun. But Lyra wasn't listening, having already vaulted out of the car, leaving the door open as she charged for the house, calling out for her father. Anya swore and followed her, pulling out the gun and checking it was loaded. 

"Lyra, wait! It might not be safe!" She called out as she entered the house, wincing at the carnage around her. The door was damn near falling off, and there was broken glass from the window in it all over the floor. There were bullet holes in the wall, and blood splattered about, tables flipped and decorations broken. Lyra was running desperately around the house, calling for her father in a hoarse and cracking voice. 

"Lyra, stop. He's gone." Anya called out, grabbing her arm as she darted by. "Just stay behind me and let me case the house, alright?" She was crying silently now, shaking with a blank look, so she blindly obeyed. Slowly, Anya made her way around the house, checking every room and cupboard to make sure no one had hung about to ambush them. There was no one. 

As they were going back down the stairs, Anya saw the note pinned to the front door. She froze in place, because that hadn't been there mere minutes before. Lyra didn't. Instead, she took off down the stairs, bolting over to the note, ripping it down and reading it. Before she read the note too, Anya ran out of the front door, gripping the gun tightly as she looked about for whoever had left it. No one in sight, but the neighbors were twitching the curtains aside. They would have heard all the noise, and probably called the police.