4

"Perfect... Just perfect." Making sure that my annoyance as clear as the sunny day, Alisha and I pushed relentlessly against the front of the car as Tomás sat in the front seat with a wide grin, acting like we were his private servants.

"C'mon, chop-chop! Master has to be back at the mansion by seven for the grand ball." Our ride had already clocked out on us barely an hour along the road; it seemed as though the Fenrirs had done more damage than I'd realised, and now we were stranded.

The 'mansion' that Tomás was referring to happened to be an old villa we'd passed less than five minutes ago.

We weren't sure how long we had left out in the sun, and it looked as though the place we were heading towards had a garage with tools we could use in an attempt to fix whatever was wrong with our shiny new car.

"Tom... this was mostly your fault, not ours. Why aren't you pushing with us? At least stop weighing the damn thing down..."

"Are you calling me fat, filthy peasant?!"

"...Of course not, master."

Grinding my teeth for only a second, I couldn't help give up with a sigh and a light chuckle under my breath. Tomás continued to spout nonsensical rich-man banter about his mansion while Alisha turned to me with a concerned look.

"That Swedish man we met back there... What exactly did he mean, about heading to a place called Patch? Something about 'putting the Route behind them'...?"

Considering it myself, I shook off any tempting thoughts before they could take hold. "It... doesn't matter. It sounds like some kind of safe zone, right? Anyway, I don't plan on getting comfortable there, or anywhere along this damn Route. Not until I find the others, or at least get in touch with Lizzie."

We'd been pushing the red car along the road for what seemed like forever, until finally we arrived at the place that looked to be some rich guy's holiday home.

The entire orange-brick complex was fenced off, and there wasn't a Lost in sight. It seemed as though the dead despised the wasteland's scorching sun even more than we did.

Fanning our faces, we decided to simply climb over the metal gate rather than risk breaking it open. While the whole area was deadly quiet, we didn't want to risk a random horde sweeping through only to find our sanctuary's entrance busted open.

The front garden was almost tropical, it was hard to tell whether it was overgrown or designed to be like a small oasis. It felt like we were intruding on someone's peaceful haven, despite the absence of intelligent life anywhere in the tranquil home.

"Man, I'm thirsty... Hope there's some water in there somewhere..." Alisha had to stop Tomás from barging in with his dry tongue hanging loose, instead instructing me to take out my pistol and perpared herself in front of the door.

"Not so fast... There's no telling whether one of them might be trapped in there. We'll check the rooms first, and then go looking for supplies. Don't get distracted until we know it's safe, and then you can act like total idiots. Understand?"

"Yes, Miss..." Tomás and I muttered in an equally-lacklustre fashion. However, it appeared as though the entire endeavour was redundant as the door clicked open of its own volition.

Spiralling around in bewilderment, Alisha dodged back a couple of paces and grabbed at the assault rifle strung across her back. "W-Who's there?! Show yourself!"

Creaking the door open a little more, we all relaxed a little when we saw a brittle old lady peering through at us. Glossing over our firearms, for some reason she wasn't as startled as most elderly folk would be if armed strangers busted through their porch without permission.

"...Yes?"

The three of us just stared back blankly, and when it became clear that no one was going to answer her, I stepped forwards with a confused tone. "U-Umm... This is... your house? You live here all alone?"

Her wrinkled face smiled tenderly at my concern, and she turned away to call down the lobby. "Harold, dear!! We've got visitors, tidy up the kitchen and stick the kettle on, will you?"

----

It was a curious, uneasy feeling. Everything in the villa was perfectly intact, dusted down and everything. Stepping through the door was like entering a time capsule, a world untouched by Telos or the infection.

Various ornaments lined the walls, china plates were locked safely away in the traditional kitchen's cabinets, and the old couple were chattering to each other without a care as they brought three saucers over to our shocked faces at the kitchen table.

"...You... still have tea." Alisha narrowed her eyes at the fancy cup, complete with a side of sugar and powdered milk. It was such a simple luxury, but I understood her scepticism. After all, it's hard to be concerned about where your next brew is coming from when you're faced with the constant fear of death every waking minute.

The old woman, apparently named Joyce, nudged her husband with a charm that only people over sixty can replicate. "Oh, we've been stocking up for years. My grandmammy used to say, can't get through old age without a nice cuppa and a good crossword puzzle."

I tried to smile politely, but something felt odd about how cheerful they were in such grim surroundings. They invited us inside almost immediately, weapons and all. Perhaps they just didn't care much about losing their lives, since they'd been around for so long?

Wiping my head from the terrible concept, I started sipping the delightfully-sweet tea as they began asking us about ourselves.

"W-Well," Alisha started with a quick glance around, "we're just passing through. We've run into some car trouble actually, and had figured that we could use your garage. We didn't know anyone was still living here... Sorry about that."

Finishing her own tea, Joyce looked down through her old-lady glasses and nodded as though she was agreeing with something.

"Oh, it's all right, dear. I understand... It's been a terrible time lately, what with all of those noisy hooligans running around, scaring the neighbours off. Need to protect yourself above all else, you know?"

Her raspy voice was soothing, it almost reminded me of old man Rambo on-board The Found... It was depressing to think how rare pensioners were nowadays. "To tell the truth, we might be the last ones who have stayed behind on this street. Don't worry about a thing, of course you can use our garage."

The woman glanced off towards her husband, who was half-asleep already. "Harold... Harold, would you show them your tool box?" Grunting in her direction, the elderly man pointed at Tomás and jerked his hand upwards out of the chair.

"You, this way."

"M... Me? Ah, I don't know that much about cars... Daniel, didn't you study Mechanics or some crap? Why don't you-"

I waved my hands in protest, as Tomás was already being escorted out of the house. "Trust me, I don't know jack about fixing them. Besides, the 'master' has gotta get his hands dirty once in a while, right?"

Leaving Tomás in the grouchy-yet-capable hands of Harold, Joyce turned to me with an impressed expression. "Daniel, was it? You're studying to be a mechanic, is that so?"

"Umm, 'studying'? I mean, I was studying, before everything went and..." Trailing off, I failed to see why she would bring up such a thing.

It was almost considered offensive to bring up a person's life before the outbreak, as though it was a very intimate part of their current identity. To ask such a thing so casually, she probably hadn't met many other hardened survivors...

"My Harold used to work with bikes and such, before he retired. Don't worry, I'm sure he can fix your car up in a jiffy." Nodding stiffly, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong here. It was staring me in the face from some corner in the perfectly-tidied room, and Alisha seemed to share the uneasiness.

It felt rude to be scanning her home for oddities, but as she took our saucers back to the dried-up sink, it hit me. No running water to clean the plates... Rather, no water to make the tea in the first place.

Where did it come from? An old woman like her, she wouldn't be able to go out and loot bottled water, nor collect a steady amount of rainwater in the middle of summer.

"So, you and Harold... You live here alone?" I blurted out, and Alisha snapped onto my thought process as she saw Joyce standing by the functionless sink.

"Oh, heavens no. That man would drive me up the wall alone in this big house, if it wasn't for our sweet little Caroline. She's out on an errand to the shops, but she should be back any minute now..."

Right on cue, I heard the front door of the meticulously-polished entrance open and close, the shoes being kicked off alongside our muddy ones, and the rustle of a plastic bag. "Mom, I'm home!!"

The voice struck me like a bolt of lightning, and my entire being froze in shock. Staring at the wall, I didn't dare turn my head away from Alisha, for whom it took another couple of seconds to register the source.

Paralysed, I watched the look on her face fall into many indescribable shapes, although mostly it was empathy directed towards me.

I couldn't make myself move, in case it turned out to be some kind of horrible trick. I just listened as the small footsteps pottered into the kitchen and a familiarly-light voice piped up. "I couldn't buy any eggs or bread, but that's okay! We've got plenty of more water to put in storage!"

"Oh, my God..." I heard Alisha whisper beside me. I presumed that the little girl forcing an American accent had noticed our presence, but she didn't appear to say anything.

"Is... Is it really..." I choked with a crack, my face was in spasms with the raw emotion forcing its way through.

"Daniel... It's her."

I couldn't hold back anymore. Ripping myself from the chair, I didn't care in that moment how it was possible. She had gotten away, and there wasn't a scratch on her. "...I... I can't..." Wrapping my arms around her, I wanted to squeeze her tight and never let go.

"I'm sorry!! I'm so damn sorry that I let them take you!! Beth, I promise... I won't ever let you out of my sight again! Oh, thank God you're safe!!" Sobbing against the blonde child, I was on my knees with tears streaming down my face. It was really her... Beth was here, alive and well.

"Huh? M-Mister?"

"...Uah...Uh, yeah?"

"...Do I, like... know you?"

I felt the child separate herself from me, and shimmy around my frigid body as though I wasn't even there. Slowly following her movements, I watched her drop the plastic bag beside Joyce and grin up at her with an oddly-bright face.

"Is there anything else you need, Mom?" The elderly woman smiled at the girl with a tilt of the head, patting her 'daughter' on the shoulder.

"That's all, Caroline. You can go and play in your room now. Your dad's just fixing these young folk's vehicle... and then they'll be on their way." Her eyes narrowed into an icy glare, stabbing me in the heart after my display on the kitchen floor. "Isn't that right, dears?"

Turning my head desperately to Beth, and then to Alisha, I had to make sure I wasn't making any of this up. The teacher's nod seemed to confirm that I wasn't going crazy. "B-Beth... What is all this? Why are you calling them your parents? We've been looking all over the Route for you!!"

The blonde girl's eyes seemed to dilate with intensity, and quickly reform themselves as though it was a bad act she was putting on. "M-Mommy, who is this man? Why has he been looking for me?"

"I... I don't know, sweetie. Daniel, I think you should be leaving now. I don't want to hear another word against my little girl, is that understood?"

Bunching my fists tight against my side, it was all I could do to swing my arms and not hit the deceitful pensioner in complete fury. It felt wrong to be angry at her, but Beth meant the world to me... Now that she was here with us, no one was going to get in our way ever again.

"T-That's my line, you old hag!! Will you two just cut the act?! Telos took Beth away, so we came looking for her... You're the one who's stolen a damn seven-year-old!"

"Stop it!!" Beth pushed past me and into the lobby, stopping on the stairs as though she was running to her room. Once again, she appeared to pause like she was remembering lines from some kind of play.

"...My name is Caroline Todd, I'm ten years old, and this is our home!! Go away, or I'll call 911 and make you leave!"

----

Alisha just shook her head as she listened to the commotion upstairs in the rich home. Daniel had chased the girl who called herself Caroline to her bedroom, and the elderly woman had followed after them.

She considered going herself, but it was clear that nothing good would come from putting more pressure on the child.

Instead, she made herself useful and started rummaging through the drawers and cabinets of the kitchen and living room, hoping to find some answers.

If the little girl had been living here for the past two weeks or so, there would be some evidence, some kind of clue around here. Maybe she could find something to use against the elderly woman's-

The teacher froze, poised over an open shelf beside the television. Sitting right there, was a device she was all too familiar with. After all, it looked like the exact same model as Wayne's...

To try and prove herself wrong, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the CB radio that she'd heard broadcasting on the other night. Raising it to her lips, she almost didn't want to speak for a moment.

"H-Hello?"

"...H...lo?"

Her face slowly descended into horror, and before she could even consider the implications of her own student's involvement, a pair of footsteps from the kitchen sent a shiver running up her spine.

As she turned, she barely caught a glimpse of the old man as he raised something above her head with a grimace.

"I thought you sounded familiar, stupid bitch... You won't be taking my daughter away, not this time!!"

The tire iron came down with a powerful smack, and Alisha toppled to the floor as the darkness descended over her eyes. It was too late, she couldn't even scream to alert the others.

The situation was even more dire than any one of them realised...