“And that’s the latest update on the Madagascar crisis, which has now spread to parts of southeastern Africa,” said the male news anchor for XYTV’s Good Morning California. He turned to his partner. “Perhaps we should now call it African Adumbrae Crisis? What do you think, Lisa?”
“Not if the Corebrings have anything to say about that, Frank,” replied Lisa, the blonde anchorwoman beside him. “The situation seems to be turning for the better with High Overseer Isolde deploying more of her Flying Fortresses. They may push the Adumbrae out of mainland Africa just yet. Our thoughts and prayers to the people of Africa.”
“The American people stand with you. And thanks to our field correspondent, Henry Leedy, for bringing us the news despite the dangers. Take care of yourself there, Henry.” Frank, the anchorman, turned to a different camera and said, “The American people too are suffering from Adumbrae attacks, albeit at a much lower scale. We return to La Esperanza. This city just can’t get a break. Right, Lisa?”
“Right you are, Frank,” she replied. She shuffled the papers in front of her. “Yesterday, between ten to eleven in the evening—"
Finally, I thought as I made my way around the cheesecake tart, nibbling all the crust off. It took them a while to get to the news I was waiting for. First was that thing with our mayor getting arrested, then the protests and riots during the memorial, then an update on the Madagascar crisis, and now the news about what I was up to last night.
“—we go to our field correspondent, Melanie, who is at the temporary base of operations of the BID set up next to LEPD headquarters,” said Frank. “What’s the update, Melanie?”
“According to the BID spokesperson,” Melanie said, “they're in the process of identifying the bodies at the scene of the Adumbrae attack. The state of the bodies is making it difficult to correctly count the number of casualties, but the BID maintains it should be less than thirty people dead and injured.”
“Do we have a number of the ones dead and the ones injured?”
“The BID still hasn’t released a more accurate list of casualties, neither do we have the names of any of them. We’ll try to get those as soon as possible, Frank."
I adjusted my glasses—it’ll take some time to get used to this new one—and wondered why they weren’t reporting the correct number of people I killed. I was sure the number of casualties should be much, much higher, with more dead than injured. They were downplaying my achievements, and that was disappointing—to be fair, killing normal humans wasn’t much of an achievement to speak of. Still, it was a pretty normal human trait to want to see high numbers in most of everything…except weight, I guess.
Perhaps the BID didn’t want the people to panic as much. They couldn’t hide this ‘Adumbrae attack’ because some survivors might’ve called their friends or families when they regained their sanity.
An obnoxious whirr drowned the sound of the television. Deen went down the stairs, drying her hair with a cordless hair blower. “That’s the Adumbrae attack where Ramello was seen?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Oh, you’re getting ready for the event already?”
Since our mayor was arrested, in accordance with the City Charter, the President of the City Council would immediately become the acting mayor. And then he’d get some time to decide if he'd accept the position; if he rejected it, the City Council would choose among themselves the next mayor who’d hold office until the next regular elections. The City Council President, being a staunch opponent of the previous mayor, and having lofty political goals himself, was going to announce his acceptance around lunchtime and have a whole grand celebration.
“It’s not a casual event, so I have to really dress up,” she shouted over the noise of the hair blower. “I'm going to need a lot of time to prepare. Sis would disown me if I showed up there looking like a hobo. Anything below fancy is a hobo to her, and she has a very high standard for fancy.”
One of the boyfriends of Deen’s sister was the executive assistant of the previous mayor. He betrayed his former boss and provided information to the BID that led to the mayor’s arrest. Can’t really blame the guy. He probably did it in return for immunity from prosecution or something. This guy was now cozying up to the next mayor, which led to Deen getting dragged in by her sister to the event.
“Kind of tone-deaf to have a party with the state of the city.”
“What did you say?” Deen loudly said.
“I said I hope you’re not going there dressed in a long gown!”
“Don’t be absurd. Oh, look at the TV.” She turned off the blower.
“—rumors abound that the infamous Red Hood is the Adumbrae involved in last night’s grisly attack,” said the reporter named Melanie. “However, we don’t have any confirmation of this because no pictures or videos of the Adumbrae that appeared are available. We also tried to track down the survivors for an interview, but they are now gathered by the BID here, at their base of operations behind me. And that’s the latest on—”
“I’ll just go upstairs to continue drying my hair,” Deen said. “I’ll leave you here to watch the news…and eat the tarts. Wait, how many did you already eat?”
“This box, so that’s six already. Plus three in this other box. Nine in total.” I plopped the custard center of the tart I cleared of crust into my mouth. “Ten in total,” I said while chewing it.
“If you like it that much, I’ll buy you more.”
“Nah, it’s too expensive.”
“I don’t mind. I’ll see if I can pass by Lyon’s later and buy some. Anyway, I’ll go back up so I won’t disturb you. Ta-ta!”
“—appears that this Red Hood is gaining notoriety,” the anchorman said. That caught my attention. “In San Diego, the neighboring city of La Esperanza, a small shop was ordered closed down by the city after it was found to be running a business of printing t-shirts with the name and pictures of the Adumbrae, Red Hood. The police traced where these illegal items are being sold, which then led to the arrest of several informal vendors.”
The robust police chief of San Diego appeared on screen, interviewed by an XYTV reporter. “The city has been lenient with these acts in the past, but we have to remind the citizens that this is, in fact, illegal. With the Adumbrae outbreaks faced by La Esperanza, the police are going to step up in enforcing laws related to Adumbrae perception in our city. They are the enemy. Let us not forget that. We should be united against them, and not sell paraphernalia that glorifies them. The Supreme Court has ruled that this is not covered by freedom of speech—”
“Oh yeah, I remember that case,” I said. But then my mind returned to what they were saying before this police chief guy showed up. They’re printing t-shirts of me! Never in my life did I expect to be famous enough that people would wear shirts with my picture on them…well, it wasn’t exactly my picture. Close enough.
“In related news,” said the anchor, “the DA has issued a statement that they are studying the possibility of filing a case against the Silent Vigil Society, or SVS, a small group that was apparently present in last night’s Adumbrae attack, for statements made online that might constitute Adumbrae-glorifying propaganda. However, the BID might also press federal charges—”
I kind of zoned out as a wide grin spread on my face. Good thing Deen already went up so she wouldn’t see the goofy expression I had on. T-shirts, hehehe. Really funny. I bet SpookyErind was also amused with this.
I kind of wanted to buy one of those illegal t-shirts.
“I’ll just be here, in the house,” I assured Deen. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’ll just study a bit, watch some movies later, chill out.”
“Erm, yes. You’re right.” Hesitation was still on her face.
“Won’t hurt to live as normally as possible every chance we got. Kind of like you going to a social event now. That’s like your natural habitat.” Go now, I thought. I could probably practice fighting with Myra after Deen left; not sure if she was available.
After yesterday’s…shenanigans…I realized I sort of enjoyed fighting. Thrill that made my heart pound was hard to come by. Or it could be my Blanchette form allowing me to experience such an extreme emotion as bloodlust in battle that made it enjoyable.
“Whatever,” Deen said, rolling her eyes at me. She faced the mirror near the doorway and did a little twirl, which almost seemed like a magic trick on her precarious stiletto heels. “What do you think of my outfit? And don’t say you’re, ‘beautiful as always’, because that’s such a guy thing to say. I’ve heard that said to me so many times—”
I faked a cough and muttered, “Humblebrag.”
“I wasn’t!” she protested with a grin, lightly slapping my shoulder. “What I meant was guys say that when they’re hitting on me because they can’t spare the brainpower to think of an imaginative compliment.”
“Still humblebrag. Let’s see…imaginative compliment, huh?” I folded my arms across my chest. “I suppose you’ve been complimented having an hourglass figure plenty of times already. I see you’re wearing your favorite pencil skirt. Well, it really shows off the curves of the lower half of your hourglass body. Compared to if I wore that, then it’ll be apt for its name. So…my imaginative compliment is…nice work on making a pencil skirt not look like a pencil.” I gave her a thumbs up.
She chuckled. “Don’t say that, I’m sure you’ll look good in a pencil skirt too.”
“We should petition for a name change,” I said, entertained with a bit of banter despite myself. The two of us had been together for a while that I should probably act a bit closer to her like I was getting out of my timid shell. “The point of pencil skirts is to accentuate curves. So why is it called a pencil skirt if the goal is not to be that shape?”
“Are you high on sugar that you’re having this monumental epiphany? You did end up eating all the pastries Sis brought.”
I raised my hands and stared at the ceiling like I was having a vision. “Another realization. On the point of guys just saying the same thing when complimenting you, girls are even worse. We are obligated by law to say our friends are beautiful, even if they’re not. So, I don’t know why you’re asking me. But you are beautiful…as always.” The two of us high-fived each other while laughing—Deen had to bend down because her heels made her even taller; it wasn’t as high of a five for her.
“I’ll get going now,” she said. “Just call me if there’s any problem.”
“Yes, Mom.” I waved at her. Deen didn’t move. Her brows pressed against each other, she cocked her head as if listening to something. “Is something wrong?” I asked.
“Gabe…ah, that’s what I decided to call my Guardian Angel. It told me to stay here for a bit.”
“So…something is wrong? Should we escape?”
“I-I’m not sure. That’s only its message. It’s probably better not to move and wait for what’s going to happen.”
“I guess you’re right,” I said, unclenching my fists that I unconsciously balled up. “‘Stay’ was definitely far from ‘escape’.” We stared at each other for about a minute, keeping quiet, listening to the ticking of the clock in the hallway. “How long should—?” The musical chimes of the doorbell interrupted me.
Deen whipped out her phone and checked an app that connected to the security cameras in the house. Both of us looked at the footage of the camera by the door.
“Two cops?” I asked in hushed tones.
“Maybe?” she whispered back. “They’re not wearing police uniforms, but they do have those blue police jackets. Plainclothes detectives probably?”
“What do we do?”
“Um…my Guardian Angel isn’t telling me what to do next.” The doorbell rang again. “Um…um…”
“Just answer it,” I said. “If it—your Guardian Angel—doesn’t have any more instructions, then just do as you normally would.” Although I was no longer sure what constituted as ‘normal’ with Deen. She was getting too annoying with her Guardian Angel, second-guessing herself and being paranoid. “We don’t have anything to hide, remember? We’re not doing anything illegal. Nudge, nudge. Wink, wink.”
Deen nodded with resolve. “Yes, we don’t have anything to hide.” She took a deep breath and opened the door. “Good morning! How can I help you?”
The eyes of the two police officers widened when they saw Deen standing tall and proud in front of them like she was about to answer a Ms. Universe question—a very understandable reaction.
The guy cop to the right was probably younger than he appeared, his face weighed down by tons of stress like his police life wasn’t going that well. His heavily injured state attested to that, his limbs wrapped in bandages, and he needed crutches to stand up. The lady cop beside him had a very gentle-looking face that didn’t fit being a police officer, as if she should be a kindergarten teacher or something, with her frizzy hair and roundish glasses.
“Uh…” the guy cop said, his mouth gaping open.
“Good morning,” his partner cut in. She recovered much faster from Deen’s beauty shock power. “I’m Detective Linette Klein, and this is Detective Jacobin Castan, LEPD.” She showed her golden badge, followed by her partner. “Just call us Linette and Castan. Ms. Leska, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Deen replied. “Or are you looking for my sister?”
Leska? I stifled a giggle. I hadn’t heard Deen’s surname for some time that I nearly forgot what it was—which shouldn’t happen because we were besties forever, and we sort of became friends because of her surname. It was an Albanian surname, Deen being like one-sixteenth Albanian or something. She assumed I was part Albanian too because of my name, ‘Erind’. I’m not. But she sort of adopted me as a friend afterward.
Detective Linette said, “We’re looking for you.” She stepped to the side to get a better view of me behind Deen. “And Ms. Erind Hartwell, I presume?” I timidly nodded. She adjusted her glasses. “We have a few questions to ask if you don’t mind?”
“I mind. We’re not legally required to answer any questions,” Deen said a-matter-of-factly.
Here we go with the first-year law student syndrome. I was about to step in when I realized this was the correct reaction. It sounded like something a guilty person would say, but considering we were inexperienced law students sent to an expensive college by our well-off families, this was expected behavior from us. But it was kind of too aggressive for Deen’s personality.
You are reading story REND at novel35.com
“We won’t take much of your time. If we can step inside—”
“And I don’t think you have a warrant to come inside my house. As law students, we know our constitutional rights.”
“Law students from Cresthorne Law,” Linette said. One side of her mouth curled up like she was trying to stop a smirk. Then, opposite her gentle appearance, she becomes all business-like and rapid-fired her words. “I know that you know we can’t force you to answer our questions. And you’re right, we don’t have a warrant. However—”
“Then we shouldn’t waste time here,” Deen said. She put her hands on her hips and swayed a bit to the left, acting all sassy-like. Very uncharacteristic of her to be haughty. “Unless we’re official suspects? Then perhaps we should call our lawyers? And even if we are, you still can’t enter my house without a warrant. If we’re done here, I have something to attend—”
“You’re not suspects of anything, Ms. Leska.” Detective Linette shot a look to her partner before saying, “Which is surprising that you’re acting this way.”
“I can act this way because I am not breaking the law. I should call your—”
“You can file a complaint later. But we would appreciate it if you answered a few questions now. Again, you’re not legally obligated to do so, but it’d be swell if you cooperate.”
Uh-oh. Why was Deen acting this way? She should’ve at least asked what they wanted. This wasn’t first-year law student syndrome anymore; this was just being an ass.
I looked down and saw Deen’s hand, hidden from the view of the cops behind her butt, waving at me.
Oh, so it’s the Guardian Angel’s instruction. Obviously, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do next. But the Guardian Angel assumed I did. So, maybe I do know.
If Deen was behaving like this, and I could only act following the Erind face I had on, then there was only one direction for me. “Deen, let’s hear what they want to ask first,” I said. I turned to Detective Castan to start a new track. Essentially, we were going to ‘good cop, bad cop’ the cops—or that was what I interpreted to be the Guardian Angel’s plan. “We do want to help the police.”
“Ms. Hartwell,” Detective Castan said with an acknowledging nod. “How are you doing? I’m sorry, we should’ve asked how you are first after your…experience.”
“Or lack of it,” I said. “I was really lucky I was staying here at Deen’s house when the Adumbrae seeding outbreak happened. But…but I’m also really devastated that all the other residents…my god.” I pretended to shudder. “I still can’t believe all of this happening in our city.”
“You’re lucky you have a good friend in Ms. Leska,” Detective Linette said with a slight sarcastic tone, giving Deen a snide glance. “Anyhow, Ms. Hartwell, we are doing a follow-up of the occupants or recent visitors of your condominium building. We saw that you came in for testing and that you’re temporarily living with Ms. Leska.”
“We’re working our way down a list and we’re not supposed to visit you yet,” explained Detective Castan. “But because of a new case that cropped up which you might have some information related to it, we decided to visit you now. A few questions, that’s all.”
“I-I’m fine. You’re not going to be late for your event, Deen?”
“I might be,” she huffed, sticking her chin up.
Detective Castan stepped forward before his partner could get another word in. “I’ll handle this, Linette.” She frowned at him but moved back. “Five minutes tops. We can talk here outside, no problem.” He did a quick look down at his injuries as if to elicit some sympathy. “First is about Mr. Ramello Staten,” he pressed on before I or Deen could reject him. “I assume you heard about what happened to him?”
“Snippet groups of my fellow law students are talking non-stop about it,” Deen said. “Seems like he got entangled with that whole Adumbrae business last night?”
“He was probably just doing advocacy work and was mistakenly connected to them,” I said. “The Ramello I know wouldn’t do anything illegal. I don’t think his advocacies will connect him to those crazy protesters like the PCM and SVS.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Deen. “You’re classmates with him.”
“Criminal Law, yeah. I’m sure it’ll all be cleared up when he shows up. Right, Detective?”
Detective Castan shook his head. “Well, that’s the problem. We don’t know where he is. He might be in danger—”
“And you expect us to know?” Deen interjected. “I barely know the guy. I don’t think I’ve talked to him yet.”
“No, Ms. Leska. But Ms. Hartwell probably knows more about him. We were thinking that you might have some leads for us?”
“I-I don’t think I know him enough to guess where he could be,” I answered truthfully. Where did he go after escaping yesterday night? Don’t tell me that weird axe kid got him? Fuck if that happened. I worked so hard to save him and the SVS. “We’re just classmates in one subject, that’s all.”
“Apologies in advance if my assumption is wrong, or if this is too intrusive,” Detective Castan said, “but did you have a relationship with Ramello?”
“In a romantic sense,” clarified Detective Linette. “If you don’t mind us asking.”
I didn’t have to act shocked for that one. “No, we don’t! What made you think that?”
“He accompanied you to your condo on January twenty-first?”
“Twenty-first? Oh!” I gasped. “That’s the day he was attacked. He didn’t go in my condo if that’s what you’re implying. I didn't even allow him to go near the building. He was just with me on the train and walked with me a few blocks from the station. That’s it. I really don’t know anything much about him. We weren’t close or anything.” Why were they asking about this now? I thought Dario’s secret organization handled this; that was what Myra led me to believe. I decided to throw in a crumb to appear cooperative. “He may have liked me, I guess? But we didn’t talk much after he was…you know, beaten up and hospitalized.”
“I see,” Detective Castan said. “One more thing before we move on to the next matter. Have other police officers questioned you about Ramello getting attacked?”
I shook my head. “This is the first time, Detective.” Didn’t these two get the memo to lay off me from Dario’s secret organization? Or were these guys a couple of honest cops that might’ve accidentally stumbled across the cover-up and decided to snoop around to find out what was going on?
“Thank you for answering honestly, Ms. Hartwell. The next matter is about Julie…Julie Conti? Do you know her?”
I controlled my eyes not to flick over at Deen. If my eyes wavered, they might suspect something was up. How do I answer this? Admit I did know her or deny? Deen was silent; her Guardian Angel wouldn’t be able to help, any negative consequences from my answer here would occur far from the ten minutes it could see in the future. “I’m not sure…that name sounds familiar,” I answered uncommittedly. Let’s play this by the ear.
“She’s also one of the residents at your condominium,” he said.
Fucking Dario wasting our time with the hospital mission. “Oh my god,” I said. “Is she alive? That’s why her name sounds familiar. I might’ve met her a few times.”
“Yes, she’s alive,” Detective Castan said. “Linette and I found her near the ruins of a building a few blocks away from your condo. We suspected she ran there while being chased by an Adumbrae.”
“Frigging lucky we got there just in time to save her from one,” said Detective Linette. “And also frigging lucky the Adumbrae decided to run away instead of attacking us.”
“Ms. Conti wasn’t in a good state at that time,” Detective Castan explained. “She was mumbling nonsense. It might be the shock from the numerous monsters showing up and killing her family. However, she did mention your name. It is an uncommon female name. We assumed you knew each other.”
“Um…I’m not really the type of person who…you know, interacts with others.” I meekly adjusted my glasses and hunched my shoulders. “Like I said, we might’ve met. If you could show me her picture, I can probably recognize her. There’s a lot of people in the condo that I just sort of randomly chat with in the elevator. The weather, and stuff like that. I don’t have like someone I know on a personal level.”
“It’s alright, Ms. Hartwell. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a picture of Julie Conti from our files.” Detective Castan paused, chewing his tongue while thinking. “That’s actually why we wanted to get confirmation from you that Ms. Conti is actually a resident of your condominium. In our database, she’s listed as a casualty of the seeding outbreak, and nothing else. If she is a resident, then we should be questioning her…ah, never mind. I think we took enough of your time. Thank you, Ms. Hartwell, Ms. Leska.”
“Um…pleased to help, Detective,” I said. “Although we really weren’t much help.”
He gave me a card. “Don’t hesitate to call us if you remember something.”
After the two detectives left, Deen stayed for about five more minutes just to make sure they weren’t coming back and that I wasn’t in any danger. She also considered not going to the event at city hall. “I’m not sure how angry Sis would get if I ditched her,” she said as she sat inside her car. “She’s kind of scary…”
“Just go already,” I said. I leaned over the car window. “You worry too much. We already talked about this.”
“But that was before those detectives passed by. What if you came with—”
No, thank you, I thought. I didn’t want to dress up and mingle with people right now. Too tiring. I bent down to get closer to her and draped my hands over the car window sill. This was to make sure she wouldn’t go out of her car. “Deen, after all this time, after everything we’ve been through…I’m still fine, okay? And I’ve been through a whole lot more than you, I can technically pull rank on you.”
“Hey, it doesn’t work that way!”
“Well, I decided that it does because I have a higher rank than you,” I said, poking her cheek. “And I’ve gone through…you know, a lot, while just being a normal human. I can take care of myself.”
“Normal…” Deen whispered. She heaved a sigh. “Yeah…you’re a very strong person, still smiling and still…being you, after all your experiences.” She met my eyes wearing a very weird expression that I couldn’t read.
Since she still wasn’t starting her engine, I said, “How about this, I’ll contact Myra and see if she’s free. If she has a class, we can just hang out at a café where she could attend her online session while I read a book or something.” I did plan on sneaking out after Deen left, but the whole thing with the cops earlier reminded me that she might check the security cameras of the house with her phone and go ballistic if she couldn’t find me. Creepy, yes, but something she'd probably do since she was a bit cuckoo lately.
“With Myra?” Deen narrowed her eyes at me. “When did the two of you become so close?”
“We’re not,” I said. “But she’s an EFU student too, and she can protect me. I don’t think you’d approve if I asked one of the guys to be my bodyguard.”
“Err, yeah, I mean no,” she said. “Yes, you’re right. You're better off with Myra.”
“I’ll give her a call and—”
“Erind, remember what I said last night?”
“About what?”
“If you need help with anything, like you want to eat something—”
“You mean like lunch?” I said, poking her cheeks. “I’ll find my lunch later. The tarts did make me pretty full though. And I can eat on my own, you know? We don’t have to eat together all the time. Is that our thing? Guys always joke that girls go to the restroom in groups, our counterpart to that is eating together.”
She shrugged. “It’s fun if we're together.”
“How about you sneak some food for me from that event you’re attending. I’m sure they’ll have awesome food there.”
“Ah…I-I, yeah, okay,” she relented, finally starting her car. “Just keep me updated where you are. We can have dinner together later.”
“Sure. You’re too concerned about what I eat. I can eat all I want and not get fat.”
“Lucky you.” She waved goodbye. “Take care. Enjoy hanging out with Myra.”
“I will.” I definitely will.