Hiss.
I hissed in the sharp air through my teeth. Another bite mark. It seemed I'd dozed off without knowing. My leg was bleeding again. I wrapped some bandages on my leg before lying back down.
It was a good thing that we hadn't been attacked by those spiders for one night.
The door slowly creaked open.
Someone hopped and crashed on the bed behind me.
Splashy, as always. Even if the entire audience was just one person, she still wanted all the attention for herself.
She lay for a while before she wrapped her arm around my lap.
The room went quiet for a while.
"What's that tiger doing here?" I asked without turning around to look at her.
"Don't worry about it. Just a passing interest. My cousin asked me to look after him."
"Who's gonna pay for the new furniture?"
"I'll send him a bill."
"The tiger?"
She rubbed her forehead against the back of my neck.
We lay there and listened to the ring in our ears.
"We can't stay."
"I know. She told me." Despite how deep it was, her voice could still be light and soft.
"You can't see those things. No one can see them."
She didn't say anything afterward. We just lay there. The ringing in our ears got louder and louder.
"You trust her?" Margaret broke the silence.
I thought I couldn't answer that question.
I really could not answer that question.
"I do."
After a while, she said, "Then I trust your decision." She raised her head and gave me a kiss on my temple. "Lead the way, captain," she whispered.
"Stay here," Margaret said, holding my hands. "Those demons won't stand a chance against me."
Liz, Margaret and I were standing outside the front door.
"I'm sure they won't. I'm doing this for their sake," I said.
"Hm? Are you now?"
"I have to say, though," I added. "Do you really have nothing to wear besides that soggy towel??" You can afford clothes, can't you? I thought to myself.
"Well~ Kevin said out of all the dresses I've put on for him, this one's his favorite."
I gritted my teeth as she turned her head to the side suggestively. If her hands hadn't been occupied holding mine, she'd probably be using them to signal the upper half of her body like a circus ringmaster right now. Either way, I was definitely certain now that Kevin was blind. Embarrassed, Liz turned around to appreciate the view of the empty streets, instead.
Those spiders.
We were really lucky they didn't come for us for a whole night. But one night was enough for us. I'd taken a huge risk by bringing Liz here to see her. I wouldn't count on our chances by staying any longer than that.
She gripped my hands more tightly.
"When will you come back?" Margaret asked me.
"I can't promise."
"If you leave for too long, one day I'll move on. Then I'll forget about you."
Liz stood quietly in the distance.
"Kevin won't remember you," Margaret said.
"Why are you still bringing Kevin into this?"
Her grip tightened.
I will forget about you, she said again, this time more quietly.
Sometimes I wished Kevin was here so he could be with her. At least she'd be happier for it.
Her grip tightened even more.
"Goodbye, Margaret."
Up the rocky stairs, Liz and I slowly crept our way toward the front entrance of her home. Even if it'd been two days, there was still a chance the spiders might be lying in wait for us from inside her apartment.
They could be building a nest on the other side for all we knew.
I'd told her in the event they were still here, I'd hold them off while she ran as fast as she could.
The door was still locked from the inside, just as we'd left it.
Liz handed me the two wrenches and I tried to pry open the lock behind the small gap between the door.
The Internet might only be good for rotting the brains of your children, but at least it had plenty of resources on how to break and enter like a true professional.
"You done yet?" she asked me.
"Another minute," I said, growing frustrated. "What are these things made of?"
"Reinforced steel. Told you it wouldn't work."
My hands had gone numb trying to break the shackle.
"Why did you even bother buying this thing? Your house literally has nothing to steal."
"People like to break into empty houses more than regular ones for some reason. They think I have something to hide. Let me try."
I stepped away and gave her the pair of wrenches.
With a click the lock split and crashed against the brick tile.
"Stay behind me," I whispered to Liz who was now wielding two shiny spray cans in both hands—one for insects, the other for humans.
Slowly, I opened the door and leaned in.
The spider was nowhere to be seen.
Everything was exactly the same.
We started packing.
Two backpacks: one stuffed with school books, the other for her clothes and the small cactus. The one for her clothes was even smaller for some reason.
Then I remembered. "Hey, can you show me the book you told me about?"
She stood for a moment before she realized what I was talking about and opened up her backpack. The book she'd been carrying since we first met.
In her hand was a red book, about the size of an A4 piece of paper. The red leather cover wrapped around the front. Now that I had a closer look—there was nothing on the cover. No indent, no wirings, no printed texts or drawings. Nothing. It was as if somebody had wrapped a worn-out piece of fabric around it.
"I just want to see what's inside," I said.
She flipped the book open.
"And how long have you been carrying this thing around with you?"
"Five, six years."
The inside looked brand new. The pages were pristine, immaculate, like they had never been turned. They didn't even fold at the corners or bend near the spine like any other regular books. She might as well have bought it from the store yesterday and was opening it for the first time.
"See that?"
"What?"
Liz was pointing inside the pages.
"See what?" I asked her again.
Her face fell. "You can't see them."
She shut the book with a loud thud and made me reel.
"Surprised me!" I yelled.
She stood awkwardly and stared at the ceiling. Five seconds passed. Then ten seconds.
Liz reopened the book and showed me the same white pages.
"What are you doing?"
"Every time I close the book, a new symbol would appear." She closed the book again, this time with less violence.
I started counting in my head.
Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
She opened the book and showed me the same two pages again.
"I don't see anything."
She sighed.
It was clear she'd been hoping I might have an answer, and I'd let her down.
Liz closed the book and put it in her backpack.
"You ready?" I asked her.
She turned to take one last look at her home. I could tell she would miss that green box of a prison cell.
Sitting at the back of the coach, I tried to distract myself by browsing through past messages on my phone, while Liz enjoyed the view. If the spiders decided to show up now there would be nowhere for us to run.
A family couple sat in front of us, with a child on the mother's lap. The baby climbed up the seat and looked behind where we were, while the parents were just minding their own business.
The baby was looking at Liz.
She tried to ignore him and put all her attention into the distant mountains and the fields from the other side of the window.
The baby continued to stare. Finally, Liz turned to look at the baby.
I would've told Liz I thought the baby liked her, if I hadn't seen the most intense expression on her face. It quickly turned into a violent staring contest, and it seemed she wasn't planning on losing.
The baby started to sweat. He was losing edge. The intensity of her glare was just too much for any one-year-old to handle. The baby tried smiling to pacify but the cheap tactic only backfired.
But he hadn't caved in—props to him for still holding up like a champ.
Although he broke eye contact a few times but he forced himself to get right back to the game.
It was an uphill battle, without any chance of winning in sight. Last resort—an even bigger smile now.
He was bobbing up and down, doing this stupid little dance like a Christmas jingle was playing on the coach.
I swore I heard cooing and gurgling.
He gave it his all.
While still pretending to look at the phone, I took a peek at her from my peripheral vision. She had that gentle look on her face—like she was just going to murder him very gently.
In the end, the baby lost. He climbed down his seat and went back to whatever he had been up to previously. It was a good effort from him. He tried his best.
You did good, champ. On a battlefield, the ones who tried to befriend the enemies would always come out the bigger man.
She literally could've just smiled back and it would've been over in five seconds.
Liz turned to the window, clearly upset by the whole affair.
Forty minutes later, the family with the baby seemed like they were about to get off. The dad was glancing at the exit and acting like he was meaning to stand, only to sit back down again.
The coach pulled up and the family got up from their seats.
Then, from a corner of my eye, I saw her lean forward and, like a veteran pickpocket, slip a dollar bill into the baby's jacket pocket.