The yard was fading into darkness, the last light of the day cool and gray through gathering clouds on the western horizon. The wood surrounding the house was a vast trove of dead leaves and tendrils of green poking through them. Quinn moved down the driveway, pausing every dozen yards to listen. No cars, no planes, nothing. He stopped short of the road running past the driveway and waited. The sun continued its descent, and shadows began to grow like dark mildew across the ground. He returned to the house and went past the bathroom, where Ty was singing something too soft for him to hear, and climbed the stairs to the second floor. He put his ear against the master bedroom door and waited, but there was no sound from behind it. The woman was exhausted and probably still in shock. Maybe tomorrow they’d be able to coax her out of her stupor and learn more about where she was from. Alice would hate it, but if the woman could tell them where her home was, they would have to make sure she got there safely.
His thoughts were broken by the sound of Alice bringing Ty to the sitting room, and he left the woman to her slumber, descending the stairs noiselessly. When he entered the small room near the front of the house, Alice was tucking Ty in beneath a heavy blanket on the loveseat. He hovered in the doorway, setting his rifle down in the hall.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Alice said, smoothing Ty’s dark hair back from his brow. “Sleep good, okay?”
“But I’m not—” Ty paused as an enormous yawn cut his words off. “—tired,” he finished.
“No, not at all. Quinn’s going to say goodnight then you get some sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Okay mom.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Alice kissed him on the forehead before moving past Quinn out of the room. She gave him a glance he couldn’t read and disappeared down the hall into the kitchen.
“Hey, buddy, you all tucked in?” Quinn asked, crouching down beside the loveseat.
“Yeah. Thanks for teaching me with the magnets. Do you think I could keep them?”
The image of the three marbles lying dormant beneath the chair in the kitchen buffeted his mind.
“I don’t see why not,” Quinn said. “You’ll have to double check it with your mom, though.”
“Okay.” Ty wriggled deeper beneath the blanket, and his eyes drifted partially shut. His breathing became even, and Quinn was about to rise when the boy spoke again. “Are you going to leave us?”
“No, I’m not going to leave you. Not if I can help it.”
Ty seemed to consider this. “Mom doesn’t want you to leave either, not really.”
“Well, we just have to take one day at a time. My dad always told me that.” Tears rose to his eyes without warning.
“Where is your dad?”
“He’s…he’s gone.”
“My dad is too. I never met him though. Mom said maybe someday. Do you miss your dad?”
Quinn swallowed the burning lump in his throat. “Every day.”
“You’ll see him again, right?”
“I’m sure I will.”
Ty yawned again, his eyelids fluttering. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”
“Of course.”
“You’ll watch for the monsters.”
It wasn’t a question. A wave of gooseflesh washed across his skin.
Quinn was going to reply, but Ty was already sleeping. He glanced at the windows, but the yard was lost to him in the darkness. He made his way to the kitchen after re-checking the front door’s lock.
Alice stood at the sink cleaning dishes with a blue rag, ebony hair pulled back in a ponytail. She didn’t look away from the task when he leaned his back against the cabinets beside her.
“He’s sleeping.”
“Good.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re washing their dishes.”
“I know. It felt like it was the least we could do for staying here.”
He moved to the fridge, pulling it open. There were a half-dozen cold beers on its top shelf. He took two of them and popped the tops off, setting one at Alice’s elbow before taking a seat at the table. She glanced at the bottle twice before drawing her hands from the sudsy water to dry them off. Quinn sipped at the beer. It was ice cold, and the carbonation burned his throat, cutting away a thirst he hadn’t known was there. Alice tipped her bottle up, chugging the drink, her slender throat bobbing. She set the mostly empty beer down and stifled a long belch behind her hand.
“Now I know where Ty gets it,” Quinn said. Alice wiped her lips and merely looked at him. “Sorry, that was an attempt at a joke.”
“I know.”
The silence spooled out between them, Alice’s eyes never leaving his face, his cheeks flush and burning. He looked around the room and then met her gaze again.
“What?”
“He’s getting attached to you.”
“He’s a great kid.”
“I don’t want him getting hurt.”
“I understand.”