Arlo Baker was finally getting used to things. Not just Arlo.
Arlo Baker. That’s what the files they’d found in the main office said. Mary and
Lyle had picked different names. Well, Mary had helped Lyle pick a different name after they found their files. After Mary found Lyle’s father on the internet just by googling his name. But Arlo’s name brought up a missing person. Family who missed him, family he’d go back to, one day.
Mary didn’t say why she changed her name. She was the oldest of all the survivors, and nobody really thought to question her. He understood about Lyle, though, even if he didn’t like the… kid. As much as Mary insisted Lyle was just a kid like them, Arlo had trouble reconciling that with the monster that shared their home. And this was their home. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful for Lyle’s part in getting them all out of there. Even if this was all of their home now because of him, Arlo couldn’t get the image of what these halls looked like while they ran through. How many of the other children had disappeared. How he’d been picked to feed the skinny little monster,
twice, and had to come close to killing him to make him stop the first time.
He didn’t know if he regretted not doing it. He knew that was what the doctors wanted, and deep down, he knew there was something in him that wanted it, too. But he remembered the look on the kid’s bony face. The fear as he curled up, waiting for the end. And Arlo knew he couldn’t do it then.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to do it now. Lyle wasn’t Lyle anymore. He was Adam now, and Mary was Eve. They’d been the ones to turn this place from a prison to a safe haven, Mary by planning it, Lyle by doing what had to be done, what his instincts told him to do. Arlo had helped set things in motion, but it was Mary’s plan with Lyle as the main instrument, so he was willing to step back and let them take the spotlight.
And honestly? It was going better than he thought. The little kids, the ones who hadn’t lost friends to experiments with Lyle, they seemed to love him. And while Arlo was still hesitant, he couldn’t argue when Mary pointed out that he seemed to care about them, too. Two in particular from that truck of kids that came in after they took over – Coby and Laura, 7 years and 9 years old – followed him around like little ducks. It’d be cute if it didn’t make Arlo so nervous.
Their childish loyalty meant that when Lyle – Adam – was away to
hunt, since he wasn’t allowed to do that in the facility anymore, the inseparable pair needed to find someone else to pester. With Mary – Eve – busy with cleaning and reorganizing the place, Arlo was usually the target as he did his rounds of clearing rubble and wrangling little kids.
He closed the door quietly behind him. Coby was taking a nap in one corner of an old office apart from the other kids so he wasn’t overstimulated, while Laura was set up in the other corner with paints. She’d told Arlo that she used to use paints to keep her hands busy so she didn’t have to wear her gloves all the time. Lyle had argued that maybe she didn’t need to keep her gloves on all the time, anyway, but Mary had said the paints were a good idea. Even Lyle respected Mary’s last say on things.
Arlo would stay in earshot in case they needed anything, but maybe now he could get some other work done. Now that the front entrances were clear and completely clean, he needed to replace the lock on the front doors. He, Mary, and Lyle would all get keys to come and go, but after Helen got lost in the woods and Lyle had to go and bring her back, they’d all agreed it needed to be the next main project.
He picked up the toolbox he’d found in a maintenance closet, and the grocery bag from the hardware store in Chula Vista. He’d be right down the hall, and maybe he’d see Adam come back for the day. As much as he didn’t like seeing the end results of their resident monster’s hunts, he much preferred knowing when Adam was back on the premises so that he could keep the kids away from where the predator was hibernating.
He never thought he’d find something
worse than a bloodstained Lyle in the doorway, but even as he came around the corner, he was met by a voice that set every hair on his body on end.
His voice dropped an octave to growl,
“Dr. Russo.”
There she was, confident as if she still owned the place. On the spot, Arlo’s expression had changed to open hostility, his eyes cold and his shoulders squared. His fingers wrapped around the toolbox handle, and he felt the metal start to creak under the pressure. There was absolutely no reason why she should be standing there. Absolutely no reason why he shouldn’t charge in and break her before she could hurt anyone here.
He remembered Lyle’s face, scared and then bloodied, and swallowed hard.
“Leave. Right now.”
