Chapter 10: Not Like the Others
Nobody finished their meals that night except for Henry, who quietly excused himself to go to Elaine's room. He looked back at the adults when he stood in the middle of the stairs. What Doug said hadn't worried him, nothing could at this moment, besides Elaine's well-being. He didn't really know who Doug was, and the lack of information about him somehow made Henry uncomfortable, even when he had saved Elaine. All he knew was that Doug wasn't human. The thought of Doug being ones of the chernos wasn't too far from his mind too. The same thoughts goes for Penny and Matteo, who silently followed the little boy after a while, leaving Doug and Emelie to talk among themselves.
Emelie was still pinching her sleeve as her heart continued to race in her chest. "Please, take a seat. I want to talk about it," she couldn't look at his face, she didn't need to anyway. She knew that he still had a blank gaze. She looked at his black shoes instead, pointing in her direction. "Sit down, Doug," she repeated. The sight of Doug standing up made her stomach churn. She knew that if he walked away, she couldn't do anything about it. She knew that she was in no position in his life to hold him back.
Doug reluctantly obeyed and sat on a chair across her. "Yes?"
"Why. . . Why are you leaving?"
"I can't stay much longer."
Emelie chewed her lip as Ramsey was the first to come in her mind. "Is it about--"
Doug shook his head as he said, "No, it's not about Ramsey."
"Then what is it? Whatever it is, we can fix it," she almost stammered. She pinched herself for sounding so desperate. Even though the group was slowly warming up to her, Doug gave off a different aura, a different feeling. Emelie had trouble understanding whatever Doug was before, but now it didn't really seem to bother her. All she wanted right now was for him to stay.
"You've misunderstood," he replied, "There's nothing wrong."
It was silent for a few seconds as Emelie thought hard to herself. What could be wrong? Whatever could be possibly wrong that would make someone like Doug leave?
"I've told you before--" he added, moving his chair closer to her, "--that I was curious about the world. I won't be able to feed my curiosity if I stayed here. I want to go on." Doug looked at her with concern now, hoping she would look at him. It never occurred to him that Emelie would be this affected. He had thought that the group already brought her joy, and that he was no longer needed. "Besides, if I had wanted to settle down somewhere, I would have already, with you. Back in your old home."
"But you wouldn't want to stay anywhere," she muttered, bobbing her head up and down like she was agreeing with herself.
"Because I can't," he said.
"What if I go with you?" Her response was almost immediate, and she finally looked at him with glossy, hopeful eyes. "Remember what you said about that cherno in the old man's body? What if he comes after me?"
Doug made a noise that was almost like a chuckle, "I don't think you would want to be on the road again. You've already found a good place. There would be no need to follow a stranger like me. I have no plans at all." He sighed, "As for the old man, I haven't sensed him around anymore. If he really was after you, I would've known ever since we stopped here."
Emelie frowned at his words. A stranger? He was anything but a stranger to her. She wanted his company more than anyone else in the group. She knew that she was safe with him.
"But. . .you're no stranger," she blinked back tears.
Doug sighed, looking away from Emelie, "Well," he stood, "I could be again."
Emelie was shaking her head as she cried out, "Why?" She rose from her seat. "Don't you--" she gulped, "Don't you see me as a friend?"
"Oh, of course I do. You're the only one I can consider to have that label."
"Then why?"
His brows were furrowed and his eyes were half closed, "I believe I've answered that question already."
"You're just so. . ." she stopped herself. She held her breath. Not realizing that she was holding Doug's arm, she released him and gave a tight, uneasy laugh. "Nevermind," she whispered. Her chin started to tremble as she suddenly had the desire to cry.
Doug watched the girl hold back tears. He was unsure of what to say, and the silence was deafening.
Finally, after some time, he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry that. . . I don't feel the same way as you at the moment."
Just like that, the ugly sob that was trying to escape out from Emelie's throat had disappeared, "You better be off now. I'm sure the others won't care about your departure." She turned her back against him and crossed her arms over her small chest.
"Is that a. . .goodbye?"
"I suppose it could be," she replied, not even turning her head to look at him, "Goodbye, Doug." Her feet felt like they were buried to the ground.
Emelie didn't hear anything in return for a full minute. Assuming that Doug had already left, she turned around to check if he had already gone. To her surprise, he was still standing in the doorway, not looking away from her. The moon shone brightly tonight and the light behind made his figure a silhouette. His shadow on the floor was long and thin, stretched far enough to touch the tips of Emelie's feet.
They stared at each other for some time without moving a muscle. They were both unsure of what to say. Emelie, with everything in her, didn't want him to leave, yet she didn't want to beg. No, not anymore. She had told herself that.
Lifting his hand to fix his coat, Doug didn't say anything. He turned around and stepped his foot after the other silently, his footsteps making clicky sounds on the tiles, then finally stepped on crunching, dried leaves beyond the door frames.
Emelie watched Doug's figure become smaller as he was walking away, until she could see him no more.
Ramsey damped his black hair before combing it with his thick fingers. He cupped water in his hands and splashed it on his face. Walking outside the bathroom, he wiped his wet face with an old, tainted shirt. Just as he walked past the entrance of the mall, he got startled at the sight of a girl sitting on the patchy ground. Chuckling to himself, he placed the old shirt on one side of his shoulder and pulled out a cigarette.
Emelie heard the click of Ramsey's lighter and she instantly inhaled the smoke from his cigarette. She looked over her shoulder, locking a stare with him. "He left," she mumbled. She hugged her knees close to her chest and directed her gaze in front of her again.
"Huh!" He puffed his cigarette, "Why, oh why am I not surprised?"
Emelie didn't respond. She was staring at the slowly-rising sun in front of her, steadily giving light to everything around it.
"Didn't sleep?" Ramsey asked, removing the cigarette from his lips.
"I did. At least I think I did."
Ramsey scoffed, "People come and go, it's not a big deal. I thought you'd know this by now. You're not older than 20, right?"
"No I'm not, and I already know that," she replied bluntly, then mouthed the words 'Indeed I do, but it doesn't mean I should get used to it.'
"If you're curious," he sighed, "I'm only 21."
She gasped in disbelief. She looked at Ramsey again, more quicker this time, "I thought you were. . ."
Ramsey laughed out loud, "What, in my 30's? I get that a lot. People like me who've gone through a lot don't age well like Matteo." He ran his finger over his dark scar on his eyelid and below his eye. "Well then, stop your sulking and help me make breakfast, will you?" He threw his cigarette on the ground before he turned around and made his way to the kitchen.
Emelie gave herself a few minutes before standing up and joining Ramsey in the kitchen.
Doug kicked small rocks the whole time he walked. He felt like he should stop and take a break, as that was what he noticed when humans take on a journey like Emelie, but he didn't feel the need to. He was awake when the moon shifted last night, and when the sun greeted his face, he still didn't cease. No sense of direction, and no plan whatsoever. He just went wherever his feet would take him, wherever the branches of endless trees pointed at. He sighed when he thought of the possibility that he may never meet humans like Emelie and the others again. He started to doubt if he had made the right decision.
"Seems like you didn't," a voice answered for him.
His pace didn't slow down the slightest when the voice was heard. "It's only a thought."
"Willing to go back?" it asked.
Doug knew it was a cherno. He was aware that it had been trailing behind him ever since he left the perimeters of the mall. It was only this time that it spoke to him. "Go back where?"
"Back to where you came from," it croaked.
"Not yet. Not now," he blinked and finally, for the first time out in the forest, he halted. He put his hands in his pockets and turned around, facing the cherno. It stopped too.
It didn't look like the typical cherno. It seemed more human than a creature. Its floating body was rotting, as Doug had assumed. The odor gave it away. Its flesh was slowly decaying. Bones were sticking out in each part of its body, the skull was the most obvious. Its mouth barely moved when it spoke, "I'm. . . dying, you see."
He nodded in response, "Yes, indeed you are."
"I was following you, hoping that you were going to leave the body. . . then maybe--maybe I could take it." It almost sounded desperate.
"No fresh ones?"
It tried to shake its head, but it only did the slightest of movement, "None, unfortunately."
"You aren't like the others, I see?"
"No, I'm not. I'll die completely when this body rots, unlike the others, where they could just transform and take anyone's body--what was it? Murdering, yes, killing. I can't do anything of the sort, I wasn't given enough potential to do so. He called me weak, but like you, I. . . I want to continue," it stuttered out, slurring its words. Doug almost couldn't understand it.
"No," he disagreed, "You are nothing like me."
Its lifeless, fading grey eyes stared at him. "My apologies. I. . .I understand. I thought you'd kill me the second you felt my presence."
"If I wanted to, I would've done it last night, but you seem utterly harmless," he scratched his cold neck, "What are you even supposed to do?"
"I had my own group, and I was supposed to support the higher chernos but they called me purposeless. Told me that they would be better off without me," it groaned in agony as it added, "You see, it's not like I wanted to ask you for help. . ."
"But you are?"
"Apparently so," the body started to sink to the ground, its bony, pale toes started to touch the earth. "I feared you, sir. . .Oh, I really did. I didn't have enough courage to speak to you sooner, but now I regret that, and mind you, I really do now, what a shame," it faltered, as it struggled staying afloat.
Doug stared at it blankly. "You seem to have a mind of your own."
"I do! Yes, we all do! Most of us have an everlasting hunger to kill, but I'm in the minority, and I'm going to be honest," it coughed painfully but carried on, "I am not happy about that, no, I'm not, but I know that I can't have a saying to that, as we chernos were all created equally with just different minds. Like those fictional angels, you see, those pure, white figures with enormous wings of a bird. They have their own minds, like us. I can be more of use to you than to them, indeed. Just--please. . ."
"Fictional?"
It had the urge to frown at him, disappointed from his short response, but it lacked strength to do anything unnecessary. "Why, yes. . .They are nothing but a legend now, sir. He told us that. Not a single one was seen ever since 'it' happened," its voice implied a heavy tone of hopelessness.
"Makes sense," he replied bluntly again.
He watched the cherno continue to sink on the ground completely now, its knees touched the ground first, before it quietly sat on the ground.
"You've done me good, sir. . . It was a pleasure speaking to you," it whispered. Black smoke was slowly appearing from the body.
Doug watched it for a few seconds before he made a decision. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander away, in search of cold bodies. Everything was black. Glowing figures were only seen. Many appeared before him, but one in particular wasn't too far, just on the side of the road.
The cherno watched him in silence.
After a few seconds, he opened his eyes again, "Come, there's a fresh body not too far."
"Oh? Oh, did I hear that right? Thank goodness!" it tried to move, but it didn't flinch. "It seems that I--"
"Not to worry," Doug bent his knees and carried the cherno in his arms, not minded by its strong odor and pointy bones. Its smoke now surrounded Doug.
"Sir. . ." it choked out, looking up at Doug against the harsh rays of sunlight, "Oh, I'll serve you. I'll continue to serve you until the end."
"I have no end," Doug almost chuckled, "Are you even allowed to serve me?"
"No, but he couldn't care less about whatever we do. . .as long as the majority is doing what they're told."
Doug looked down at it closely, "Good, then serve me well."
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