The Shunning - 14. Chapter 14

At eight o'clock that night, the group caravanned to the airport.

Ever since leaving the shooting range, Alex was always within arm’s reach of Daryl, Patrick observed. Something had happened between the two men but neither was willing to talk about it. As for his brother, it was quite a while before the wide eyed look left his face.

 

After all six cars had parked at the private airstrip, Alex left Daryl's side for the first time in hours to make sure his men had the place covered. This gave Patrick a chance to ask a few questions.

 

"What's going on between you and Alex?"

 

"Nothing. At least nothing to be worried about." Daryl replied.

 

"Then you wouldn't mind telling me." Patrick pressed.

 

"He was a patient I treated."

 

"Not just treated, but saved from what I understand." Patrick remarked.

 

"I know." Daryl sighed. "I'm sorry but I think Brian has gotten to Alex."

 

"Brainwashed him?"

 

"No, At least I don't think so. When his men captured Alex, he and Brian had a long chat. Brian knew at once that Alex had been one of my patients. He's been keeping a very close eye on my career."

 

Steven spoke up from the driver's seat." What did they talk about?"

 

"About Alex's dreams. How since his trip to the ER I've become a constant subject in them. I've told Alex that it is most likely because of remaining emotional trauma from almost dying. I'm afraid Brian has convinced him otherwise."

 

"Oh shit. Just what we need, another armed fanatic." Steven cursed.

 

"No. It's not like that. Alex thinks Brian is a creep and doesn't trust him. It's only that he has come to agree with Brian about the mythology the Father has been building around me."

 

"Which is?” Patrick pressed.

 

"That I am possessed by some divine spirit."

 

"Do you believe that," Steven asked.

 

"No. I know my own imperfections. I'm not a saint or an angel but,"

 

"Yes,” The twins asked.

 

"But sometimes I wonder if some of what Brian believes is true. That when I want to save another person's life, really want to, I can give away a part of myself to save them."

 

"That might explain why you pass out." Patrick nodded.

 

"This is stupid." Steven said, leaving the car.

 

"Steven!" Daryl shouted.

 

"Let him cool off." Patrick said, quickly pushing the button that would lock the doors. "It's about time his agnostic view of reality was challenged but let's not go there right now. Explain Alex to me."

 

"He told me his life was mine."

 

"Probably he feels he has some sort of Wookie life debt,"

 

"Wookies,"

 

"That's right, you've still not seen a Star Wars movie," Patrick sighed. "He feels he owes you his life."

 

"Maybe, but can that explain why almost every person who should haven died but didn't because of me eventually tell me the same thing, our lives are yours. Even a girl who was just three years old."

 

"Now that is strange," Patrick nodded. "What do you think it means?"

 

"I know what Alex thinks it means, he treats it literately."

 

"How so,"

 

"He believes that he did die back in the ER, or at least a part of him did, with my own life, energy, soul, whatever you want to call it, replacing it."

 

"So what he should be saying is 'his life is your life."

 

"That pretty much sums it up."

 

Patrick chuckled. "Dang, no wonder he wants to get into your pants,"

 

"He wants to sleep with me?"

 

"Dare, come on, you can't expect me to believe you are this clueless."

 

"Well I won't."

 

"Don't make a promise you can't keep. You saw how he handled Steven. You want to tell me you can't picture him doing the same to you,"

 

"I have pictured it, and it frightens me to be honest."

 

"I know he's big but," Patrick chuckled.

 

"It's not that, it's just that last night I dreamt he and I made love, and it was wonderful, almost as wonderful as when we make love. Only when I woke up, my whole body was shaking with terror, my heart almost beating out of my chest.

 

"What do you think that means,"

 

"I don't know. A part of me wants to make love to Alex but the very thought of acting on those feelings puts in mind the image of a crazed man jumping off a cliff."

 

"Then don't do it."

 

"I don't know if I can stop myself. Not if I keep on dreaming about him."

 

Patrick let out a sigh before responding. "There are medications out there, drugs that Steven can prescribe that can put you in such a deep sleep so that you won't be able to remember your dreams. Do you think that would help?"

 

"Our church," Daryl began only to be cut off by Patrick.

 

"Stop it Dare, enough about your church! What is the point of believing in something if it stops you from finding happiness?"

 

"I'm sorry," Daryl apologized.

 

"If only I could merge your blind faith with Steven's skepticism," Patrick chuckled, the harshness gone from his voice. "Will you ask Steven for the pills,"

 

"Yes, I will. I promise," Daryl said just as Alex knocked on the tinted glass of the window.

 

"You two do know we have a flight to catch," the man chuckled, his eyes focused only on Daryl.

 

"We better get going," Daryl sighed.

 

"Not without me giving you this first," Patrick said, leaning forward to kiss Daryl on the cheek.

 

"Thank you Patrick," Daryl said, squeezing the hand of the man who was friend, brother, and lover all in one before exiting the car.

 

Walking toward the midsize jet, the two stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

 

"This is it Dare, the point of no return," Patrick whispered.

 

"I'm ready, nervous but ready," Daryl replied. "I love you."

 

"I love you too Dare."

 

Hand in hand the two climb up into the plane's cabin where Steven was already seated. Just looked at his brother's face Patrick saw the pain his brother was in. Where he, Patrick seemed to be getting closer to Daryl every day his brother's relationship with the man they both loved seemed to be in limbo.

 

Patrick knew what the problem was, he just didn't know how to help Steven fix it.

 

 

"Can I talk with you Patrick," Steven asked mid-flight.

 

"Sure," Patrick nodded, letting go of Daryl hand. The pill Steven had given him would keep Daryl asleep for another three hours at least.

 

Following his brother to the back of the plane where the roar of the engines would prevent eavesdropping, Patrick sat himself down in a leather chair. "What's up?"

 

"Why do I keep on fucking things up?" Steven asked, his tone one of hurt.

 

"Relationships are never an easy thing to build."

 

"You seem to have no problem with it," Steven said bitterly.

 

"Well let's compare our records. Each of us have had almost the same number of boyfriends, right,"

 

"Yeah."

 

"But if recollection serves me right, most of mine last twice as long as yours."

 

"Maybe," Steven said grudgingly.

 

"Also, where I have had five live-in boyfriends you have had none until Dare."

 

"You saying I can't handle making a commitment,"

 

"No, I am saying you have no experience making commitments. It I not something that comes naturally or can be taught. It is something that only comes from experience."

 

"So I am in 'virgin' territory. That does not explain why I lose my temper so often."

 

"That's my fault, I've spoiled you by letting you get your way too often."

 

"What should I do Patrick?? Even Alex is doing better than I am with Dare." Steven sighed, pointing toward the mercenary, now sitting next to Daryl where Patrick had been sitting.

 

"The two of them have a special connection." Patrick said. "You would have known that if you had not had your latest temper tantrum."

 

"That's what I'm talking about. I don't understand how an educated man like Dare can believe some of the shit he does."

 

"It's called faith, you should try to find yours again." Patrick said sharply. He too did not like some of the things Daryl believed but he was not the skeptic his brother was. "Not everything can be explained by tidy numbers or facts."

 

"But we don't believe in God."

 

"You don't. You have only assumed that I didn't as well because I never openly disagreed with your narrow views."

 

"What,"

 

"Steven, when was the last time you called mom,"

 

"Her birthday," Steven said guilty.

 

"That was over nine months ago."

 

"Steven, she only lives five miles away from us."

 

"You know why I don't call her," Steven said defensively.

 

"Because she would try to invite you to church," Patrick laughed. "She'd invite you and you would say no like always but feel guilty about refusing. Damn, I should have your job."

 

"I'm only human." Steven said weakly.

 

"Yes. Try to remember that some times. Try to remember that as humans there are forces out in the universe that are greater than us and incomprehensible to us. That's where faith comes in."

 

"I can't believe in God and I don't see how you can after years of listening to our father's hate."

 

"Fine, but you need to believe in something Steven or lose Dare completely," Patrick warned.

 

"I do believe in something, someone that is."

 

"Dare?" Patrick guessed.

 

"Yes, I believe he is the only good, selfless man in a world filled with self-centered people. I believe he is the man I am meant for. I believe in my love for him."

 

"Then you're halfway there," Patrick said encouragingly.

 

"What's the other part?"

 

"Remembering that Daryl too is human." Patrick chuckled.

 

 

Daryl woke up slowly, finding six blue eyes and three smiling faces looking down at him.

 

"We've landed Dare," Alex whispered.

 

"Already," Daryl yawned. "It took me almost two days to drive out to California."

 

"Planes do tend to move a bit faster." Steven could not help but to chuckle.

 

"How far from New Hope are we," Daryl said as he stood up.

 

"Not far, we landed on the airstrip Brian had the mining company build two years ago," Patrick said.

 

"An airport in New Hope," Daryl said skeptically.

 

"Brian seems pretty determined to modernizing the place," Patrick said.

 

Once on the tarmac the four men saw that a welcoming committee was waiting for them, led by Brian, Sheriff Landon, Mayor Will, CEO Stan, and Judge Kevin... all of the men who had once been among Daryl's closest friends.

 

"Thank you for coming home," Brian whispered as he embraced Daryl.

 

"I had no choice," Daryl replied coldly.

 

"I know, and for that I'm sorry. I think you know everyone here."

 

"Yes, of course," Daryl said, shaking each of his old friends’ hands. When he took Stan's, he noticed the man's hard stare as he felt a slip of paper put in his hand.

 

Quickly putting his hand in his pocket to hide the message, Daryl let himself be led away into one of the waiting cars, new cars by the look of them. It was not until the car started moving that Daryl realized that he had been separated from the rest of his group, finding himself alone with Brian.

 

"It's ok Daryl, I just wanted a chance to talk with you privately," the Father said when he noticed the worried look on the other man.

 

"What do you have to say that can't be said around my friends?"

 

"That I am still in love with you."

 

"I think they are aware of that," Daryl replied.

 

"You don't understand. I guess I'm not being very clear. Since your parents are dead and you are not married, the role of arranging your marriage falls to me as the Father."

 

"Am I not still betrothed to Diana?"

 

"She's been shunned Daryl. You know our law, you cannot marry a person who has been shunned."

 

"Who would you have me marry then, Father?” Daryl said coldly.

 

"Why, me of course."

 

"But,"

 

"Can you name one single church law that forbids two men from marrying," Brian challenged.

 

"That's because none of our ancestors ever considered the possibility."

 

"Still, the law is the law."

 

"I don't want to marry you Brian," Daryl said flatly.

 

"But you do love me,"

 

"Yes," Daryl sighed, hating being honest.

 

"Then we have more going for us than most of our people have,"

Brian insisted.

 

"Now I see why you wanted to talk to me alone. You knew my friends would never let this happen."

 

"But it's going to happen Daryl," Brian said flatly as the car turned onto a paved road that Daryl knew all too well.

 

"We're going to the church now!"

 

"Yes, all our people are there waiting for us."

 

Reaching into his pocket, Daryl took out the scrap of paper, scribbled on it was a single word, 'trap'. He should have read the message as soon as Stan had given it to him.

 

Brian reached over and took the slip of paper away from Daryl. "I see Stan is up to his usual tricks, little good they will do."

 

"I won't marry you Brian, I won't say the vows."

 

"Who said anything about you being the one to say the vows," Brian chuckled, in reference to the fact that in church marriages, the future husband spoke for both groom and bride. "Think about it, we can't have the Father go up to the altar and remain silent like some woman."

 

"But you want me to! I won't go through with this."

 

"But you love me Daryl," Brian said in a pained voice.

 

"But I don't want to marry you," Daryl replied.

 

"Then I guess you leave me no choice," Brian sighed, as he took out a sheet of paper from his coat pocket.

 

"What is that?"

 

"It was to be my wedding gift to you but because you won't marry me I guess I will have to throw it away," Brian said as he rolled the window down.

 

"What's on that piece a paper,” Daryl demanded, his eyes frozen on the page flapping in the wind.

 

"Just an address, to an orphanage," Brian chuckled.

 

It took less than a second for Daryl to realize what Brian was hinting at. Instead of getting him to beg Brian for the address, Daryl rushed toward the Father, even with his seatbelt still on.

 

For a brief moment the two men struggled, Daryl only able to tear away one corner of the page before Brian managed to throw it out the window. Popping his seatbelt free, Daryl opened the nearest passenger door open, intending to jump out after it. He would have almost made it had

Brian not tackled his left leg as he made his leap. As a result Daryl ended up being dragged several feet before Brian was willing to let him go, Daryl'n leg causing the car to jump when it was run over.

 

Daryl did not remember much of what happened in the following hours other than he was in a lot of pain. He did recognize Brian's voice constantly begging him for forgiveness. He thought he remembered entering the massive auditorium of the church sanctuary which seemed to be filled with the sounds of crying. The last thing he could recall was the sound of an ambulance siren.

 

Waking was painful. It was as if every bone in his body had been broken by what happened. Opening his eyes Daryl saw he was in an empty hospital room, both arms and one leg in castes. Swirling his tongue in his mouth he could also feel the gaps where several teeth had been broken. It was his left hand however that his eyes froze for located on the bottom of his ring finger was a thick gold ban.

 

For a long time he bounced in and out of consciousness, each time with a new pain. It did not take Daryl long to realize where he was and what was happening. He was at the mining clinic and like all Blessed who visited it, the Father had given orders that he was to remain sedated while the doctors worked toward repairing his body.

 

It was not until he awoke to find new teeth in his mouth that he had his first visitor, Stan.

 

"I tried to warn you Daryl. Why didn't you read my message? Why didn't Diana warn you?"

 

"I'm sorry Stan," he mumbled. "I didn't read your message until it was too late. Diana didn't warn me either."

 

"Figures, she lost whatever backbone she had when her brother wouldn't remove her punishment." Stan sighed as he sat himself on the edge of the bed. "I've missed you."

 

"So have I, in the end you were the only one I could count on." Daryl smiled weakly.

 

"I owed it to you, you saved my life... more than once in fact."

 

"All I remember is the lake," Daryl whispered.

 

"Yes, I almost drowned but you rescued me. Your first miracle." Stan chuckled.

 

"It wasn't a miracle."

 

"It was to me. Brian thinks so too. That's why he doesn't dare have me shunned."

 

"Is there anyone else around here half sane," Daryl asked.

 

"Everything fell apart after you left. Without the blessing of your family to protect us, everyone turned on each other. The only person I truly trust is my son."

 

"So you got married." Daryl chuckled, regardless of the pain it caused.

 

"Yes, I did my duty, but that's it. Helen didn't mind. We've never been fond of each other. She even brings her other lovers to my house to make love."

 

"Is she infected," Daryl asked, concerned.

 

"I don't know, I hope not. Only the outsiders Brian has brought in and a few of us higher ups have any clue how bad it really is."

 

"What about you Stan, have you found any happiness in your life,"

 

"I have my son, he's been my only source of joy," Stan said as he placed a gentle hand on Daryl's bruised stomach. "I've missed you Daryl. I've missed the old days."

 

"I had to leave. Don't you still believe that?"

 

"More than ever, which has me confused as to why you are here now. Why didn't you stay away where you were safe?"

 

"Because of two reasons. This plague that Brian has unleashed on our people, it has to be stopped."

 

"I agree. What is the other?"

 

"David, He and Diana had a pair of twins together. The old Father stole them from her and put them in an orphanage somewhere."

 

"So you came to get them back,"

 

"Yes," Daryl nodded.

 

"As a father I can understand that, more than I can agree with you thinking you can save our people," Stan said as he took a dirty, crumpled piece of paper out of his jean pocket.

 

"I was at that so called wedding. I hope you believe most of the locals were horrified by it."

 

"But none of them stopped it," Daryl pointed out.

 

"With all these heavily armed outsiders patrolling the town can you really blame them? Everyone is scared Daryl, including me. Anyway, you were yelling and screaming the whole time during the ceremony, mostly out of pain. I was able to piece together enough of what happen to know that Brian had something you had wanted but he had thrown out the window. Leaving the church I searched the road, only finding this single piece of litter." Stan said, handing the page to Daryl.

 

"Whitmore Home for Boys." Daryl read.

 

"I looked it up, it's in a town about a hundred miles south of New Hope."

 

Now knowing where his brother's sons were, Daryl wanted to leave the hospital and go right to them. Just the effort to sit up racked him with too much pain however.

 

"Don't try to move Daryl," Stan stated emphatically.

 

"Do you know where my friends are?" Daryl asked once the pain had eased some.

 

"Yes, it seems you have quite a few. Right now they're bunkered down at your folks place. One of them, Alex I think, has threatened to blow the entire gas field sky high unless you are returned to them."

 

"You better do as they say, Alex is an expert at mayhem." Daryl chuckled.

 

"You know I would like to do that Daryl but…"

 

"I know you have your son to think about. If things get too bad for you, get to my friends, they'll protect you."

 

"We'll see. I'll go over to their place tonight and give them the address to the children's home."

 

"Be careful." Daryl warned.

 

 

That night:

 

"How you doing Kevin," Stan asked worriedly, looking to the back seat of his truck.

 

"I think I'm more bruised than Mister Gavin." The thirteen-year-old youth said from under the blankets that covered him.

 

"Trust me son, you're nowhere close." Stan laughed.

 

"Are we even still on the road," the boy asked.

 

"Nope, haven't been for the last three miles."

 

"I thought so."

 

"I'm sorry Kevin but I don't want the outsiders to notice us on the road. After this hill, the ground is pretty flat." Stan said, trying not to show the worry he was feeling.

 

With the moon less than a third full, there was very little light for Stan to use as he guided his truck over the hill that would lead to the ranch of the Gavin homestead. Having hiked this hill with Daryl as a youth, he knew all too well that the side of the hill was littered with boulders. Still he did not dare turn his headlights on, not after the Father had declared a sunset curfew for everyone but the outsiders.

 

Except for a few hard bumps Stan almost succeeded in guiding his vehicle all the way to the bottom only for the ground to shift from under the truck, causing it to slide rapidly down the remaining hundred yards, only to be stopped by a giant boulder, triggering the release of the airbags.

 

Stan, touching his slightly burned face, winced with pain. That did not worry him as much as the silence coming from the back of the truck. "Kevin, you ok back there,"

 

Not getting a response, Stan freed himself from his seat, got out, and pulled his seat back to get access to the back seat. Reaching for the blanket, he found it damp, causing his pulse to quicken. Taking a risk, he reached up and turned on the interior lights, finding his son, unconscious, a deep gash on his head.

 

Not knowing what else to do, Stan carried his lanky son in his arms, walking at a slow pace toward the lights of the old Gavin home. "Come on Kevin, you can make it." Stan cried, walking half blind from the constant flow of tears.

 

Blind, and deaf to everything but his own grief, Stan did not notice the flashlights aimed at him, nor the shouts of several men until he almost fell forward into a trench, jerked back at the last minute.

 

"Hey now, watch yourself." A man with a southern drawl said, lifting Kevin out of Stan's arms.

 

"Please save my boy," Stan wailed, when he realized he had found the other people.

 

"Don't worry sir, my best medic is checking him out. Now sit down and let Kurt look you over."

 

"There was a rock slide. I lost control. I shouldn't have come."

 

"Well you're here now and you're safe," a redheaded man said calmly as he began removing Stan's blood stain clothes to make sure he wasn't hurt before letting out a loud whistle. Why is it that almost every person here is a hottie?"

 

"Keep your mind on the task at hand," the commander, Alex, warned.

 

"He seems to be ok sir, the blood is most likely the boy's," Kurt said a few moment's latter, triggering another wail from Stan.

 

"Please sir, try to calm down. There are a few questions I need to ask you," Alex said as calmly as possible.

 

"I'm sorry, he's my boy ok?"

 

"Kurt, go check on this man's son," Alex ordered.

 

"Yes sir," Kurt nodded, before running off.

 

"While we wait for him to come back, why don't you tell me why you were trying to drive blind through those hills?"

 

"Because I promised Daryl I would."

 

"You've seen Dare," Alex asked excitedly. "Where is he? Is he ok?"

 

"I saw him a few hours ago. He's in bad shape but the doctors are taking good care of him. Brian even had some plastic surgeons flown in from Chicago."

 

"Why does Dare need plastic surgery?" Alex demanded, his voice heated.

 

"There was an accident of some sort where he got dragged by the car he was in."

 

"And how did that happen," the commander pressed.

 

"Brian threw something out the window, something Daryl wanted very badly, so badly that he jumped out of the car after it."

 

"Damn it," Alex swore just when Kurt came back.

 

"My son, is he going to live," Stan asked desperately.

 

"He is going to be fine sir, a deep cut and a concussion. He woke up while Hector bandaged him up. Kevin is riding in the jeep now heading\ back to the house so that the doctors can close the wound up with stitches."

 

"Can I join him," Stan asked worriedly.

 

Seeing Kurt look in his direction, Alex nodded his head. The two men were almost gone when Stan remembered why he had taken such risks in the first place. Running back to the commander, he offered the man a slip of paper.

 

"What is this," Alex asked.

 

"It's what Daryl tried to jump after. It has the address of the orphanage David's boys are at," Stan explained. "Please save them."

 

"I will. If you need anything Kurt will get it for you," Alex said before going to his own jeep.

 

Turning on the computer he had on the dashboard, he plugged in the address. Within moments, his GPS gave him a map to the Whitmore Home for Boys.

 

"A and B squad meet me at the barn, we got ourselves a mission,"

Alex said over his walkie-talkie.

 

 

"Now what do we say Aaron," a wrinkled old woman asked, a short ruler in her hand.

 

"Thank you for coming Father Reeves," Aaron said as one hand rubbed his sore ass.

 

"Just try to do better next week," the cold faced priest said. "What is the point of confessing your sins if you are not willing to repent,"

 

"Oh they'll learn eventually Father, that I promise," the woman, Sister Margaret, promised.

 

"Hopefully before they join the rest of society." Father Reeves sighed before picking up his hat and left.

 

"There, he's gone. Now you can go get your brother out of whatever hole he hid himself in this time. No supper for him however. I'm not going to waste the good Lord's food on an unrepentant sinner," the nun spat.

 

"Would you mind then if I gave him half my supper,"

 

"Knowing you, if I say no you'll only eat half your meal, excuse yourself to the bathroom, only for Adam to finish your meal for you."

 

"So why go through all that effort? You know what I am going to do. You know you haven't been able to tell us apart since you had your cataracts removed so why don't you serve two plates at the table. That way you can keep a fuzzy eye on both of us."

 

"You have always looked out for your bother." Sister Margaret sighed. "Why those two nice families sent you back here I will never understand."

 

"Because you talked them out of adopting my brother you old hag," Aaron said under his breath as he went looking for his twin.

 

Aaron was the good one of the pair and when he was younger many families had tried to adopt him. The problem was that most quickly dropped the idea when they saw what kind of hellion his twin Adam was. During the two trial periods where Aaron was adopted separately, he had used every trick he had learned from his brother to get him sent quickly back to the home.

 

Sometimes Aaron wondered if sabotaging his own adoptions had been the right move, but only for short periods. Eventually, a night like this one would come and remind Aaron how much his brother needed him.

 

Going to Sister Margaret's bedroom, the last place the nun would think Adam would hide, Aaron gave the agreed upon knock before entering the room where he once again found his brother dressed in the nun's bland outfits.

 

"What do you think?" Adam asked, turning around dramatically to face his brother.

 

"I think you better put everything back before the old hag catches you," Aaron replied, trying his best not to laugh. Laughing in the Whitmore House was one of the fastest ways to get assigned extra chores.

 

"She never comes to this end of the house until she's ready for bed," Adam insisted.

 

"Come on Adam, dinner's ready."

 

"Let me guess, fish," Adam said sourly.

 

"It is Friday," Aaron replied.

 

"But why do we have to have fish on Friday, I've read the bible the old hag keeps under her bed. Nowhere does it say we have to eat fish on Friday."

 

"You better stop reading it."

 

"Why? Why shouldn't I be able to quote back the same verses the old hag and Father Reeves use on us,"

 

"Because it gets you in trouble."

 

"Like that matters now. No one is going to adopt us Aaron, we're too old. You should have jumped ship when you had the chance."

 

And leave you behind,"

 

"You would at least be happy. You might have also been able to snag a few of your new mom's dresses and mailed them to me. Everything the old hag has is old and grey."

 

"And getting too small for you," Aaron couldn't help but point out.

 

"See, I should stop eating now so I won't grow more."

 

"If you do that, the old hag might be able to tell us apart again and we wouldn't be able to get away with half the stuff we, or I should say you do."

 

"Yeah, I guess you’re right," Adam sighed, as he started to take the clothes off.

 

After eating their bland meal of steamed fish and overcooked vegetables, the two washed the dishes, as was their assigned chore, being the oldest boys living at Whitmore they were expected to help out more around the house than the other boys. Then the brothers joined the rest of the children upstairs for the night. It was still light out.

 

"Three more years," Adam sighed, looking out the window at the setting sun.

 

"What," Aaron whispered.

 

"Three more years till we get out of this hell hole."

 

"And that's a good thing? We have nowhere to go."

 

"The streets would be better than here."

 

"In the summer maybe, but come winter the old hag's open door would look like a welcomed sight," Aaron pointed out.

 

"I'm sorry Aaron," Adam whispered after the room had been plunged into darkness.

 

"What for,"

 

"For keeping you here."

 

"You know I will never leave you Adam."

 

"I love you."

 

"I love you too."

 

"Can we?” Adam asked hopefully.

 

"Yes, we just got to make sure we wake up before the old hag catches us." Aaron said as he pulled down his sheets and moved over so his brother could join him. The two soon fell asleep in each other's arms.

 

 

Sister Margaret had fallen asleep in front of the television, where she had been watching a catholic program hosted by two priests on the public access channel, when the doorbell woke her up with a start.

 

"Goodness gracious! Who could be coming at this hour>“ The nun said to herself as she scurried toward the front of the house.

 

"Hello?" She asked behind the screen door at the tall man who towered over her.

 

"Sorry madam to disturb you at this hour, but I was wondering if you could help us,"

 

"If I can." The nun replied.

 

"Thank you. My engine stalled just a block from here, so I was wondering if I could borrow your phone and intrude on you while I wait for a tow truck. I would have used my cell phone but there’s no real coverage in this neck of the woods."

 

"Why certainly, please come on in. Just try to be quiet, the children are sleeping."

 

"I promise to be as quiet as a mouse," the man promised.