Unspeakable, Part 9

The next day they seemed to have slept in. When Miles woke he could hear the others’ voices in the main room. Shylock was still clinging around him.

Miles lay listening to them talk, trying to decide what to do. He thought about his training. In those days, everyone was pushed to the limit, no quarter given.

Every child of the Academy had to be the best of the best, physically and mentally. It was boot camp and mind games, it was Mensa and mixed martial arts. It was constant work, never rest.

Parentless and desperate, kids like Miles had thrown themselves into it, determined to excel and be deemed worthy to be part of the Family. Miles had imagined the day when he would leave the Academy and join the other operatives, his long-lost relatives, at Central Control.

But not everyone had been able to bear up. On his fight to the top Miles had seen others, as he’d told Shylock, driven to the brink of madness and death by the pressure they were under.

When they were small, the kids used to help each other, to try and bridge the gaps. But the older they got, the more they were told that each must excel alone. They stopped helping.

Those that couldn’t make it were left behind, left to languish in minor posts at the Academy, or simply to waste away. They became embittered, hostile and mad, succumbing to vices.

Miles had tried not to think about it, tried to avoid seeing them. He’d kept clear of having ‘friends’. It made it easier. But now?

Everything was different. He couldn’t leave people in the dust and avoid them, not down here where they were all trapped together. And in his current state, he could hardly be independent.

That wasn’t all, though. Somehow, with Shylock, it was different. Miles could see how easily the boy could be left behind, but he was haunted by his eyes, by his tears. He knew him too well.

In him he saw every Academy failure he’d passed by without a glance. He saw every dropout and washout who’d been kicked out or locked away, left to fend for themselves.

He’d seen how Shylock had lived, abandoned, and he couldn’t let it happen again.

Maybe it was his own damned helplessness, but Miles also was starting to be angry that anyone less than 110% stoic and heartless was excluded from the Family’s wealth and glory.

Maybe it was too late for himself, but Shylock with his big sad eyes would see everything magnificent and wondrous that there was to see, if it was the last thing Miles ever did.

Just then, Shylock whispered you awake? Miles glanced at him. Yup. Shylock blinked. You okay? Miles nodded. Just thinking. Come on. Let’s get up.

Shylock wheeled him out and took a low seat close beside the chair.

Hello sunshine, Connie said, kicking her feet flippantly in the air.

Did you sleep well? Ivan asked.

I did, Miles said, Shylock? Shylock nodded.

Eat up, Connie said, there’s lots to do--then she chuckled, oh wait.

Everyone chuckled. They were eating and chatting, their raised voices echoing and rebounding off the walls, when they heard a noise.

Miles might not have noticed except for a look of terror that came over Shylock’s face. Hold on, hold on, he said, holding up a hand. Just listen. Did you hear that?

Mander cocked his head and squinted with focus. Sequoia’s eyes darted back and forth. After a moment it came again, a kind of scraping, scratching. Then there was a bang.

Miles looked down and saw Shylock, on his knees beside the chair, was clutching at Miles’ leg, frozen in silent terror. Miles frowned.

Everybody watch your back, he said, and let’s figure out where that’s coming from--carefully. Ivan looked at him, nodded, and rose.

He moved with his quiet smoothness, and Sequoia followed him. Sally and Mander rose to their feet but stayed where they were. Connie looked apprehensive and frustrated.

The sounds were coming from the empty room. As Ivan approached the doorway Miles glanced down and saw the only thing whiter than Shylock’s face were his knuckles.

Ivan and Sequoia were inside the room when there was another bang. They both jumped back.

This isn’t just an empty room, Sequoia said anxiously. There’s another door in here.

How many rooms are down here? Miles grumbled. He tried to move forward but Shylock clawed him back. Is that where the noise is coming from? he asked, trying to disengage Shylock.

Ivan gestured Sequoia back into the main room and stepped softly into the empty room. Yes, Ivan said from inside, and with that hell broke loose.