The man squinted at him for a moment and then said, “Yeah. Emily, right? Last I saw she was outside the butcher.”
That didn’t sound too bad. There was a meat store a block up that provided cheap meals if you had the extra change. Sometimes his mother was up there getting them food. Maybe he would have a nice meal tonight. He hadn’t gotten anything special for his tenth birthday.
So Emmett put that thought into his head, pushing his worries aside, and went back into his home. He sat on the couch and watched the clock and waited.
Hours passed.
Night settled in.
And still his mother didn’t come home.
He searched the cupboards for something to eat and found a packet of stale crackers that he wolfed down. Then he decided to go and look for her.
Everything is scarier in the dark. In the day time you can see the horrors around you but at night, they were shadowed, half-hidden, which made them even more monstrous. Emmett felt like he was being very brave by doing this, the time when things got a little wilder, a little more out of hand. But he remembered that people had ignored him earlier and he knew that he couldn’t just wait for his mother forever. What if something had happened to her?
And for once, the reality of “what if” was hitting home. As he ran around the streets, asking for his mom, looking for her, dealing with people who scared him half to death, he started thinking about death. The worst-case scenario. His mother was using more and more, looking sicker and sicker every day.
What if, what if, what if?
It wasn’t until he forced himself into the back alleys that he knew he was close to death.
He could smell it back here, feel the dark, oppressive vibe.
The brick walls were covered in graffiti, the ground littered with shit, vomit, plastic baggies, discarded needles.
There were people back here too, but not many of them were moving.
Most were slumped here and there, the needles in their arms shining under the dim lights.
He peered at each one of them.
They were alive, but barely. Lost in the dreams of the drug.
And he kept going.
Because now he knew, he knew in his young, small heart that his mother would be one of them.
He walked the alleys for what seemed like forever. It wasn’t until he was in the one right behind his apartment that he saw a familiar pair of dirty tennis shoes poking out from behind a dumpster.
His breath caught in his lungs. Bile filled his mouth.
The feeling of pure, undiluted dread was incapacitating, a living, breathing thing that pushed down on him until he felt he was drowning.
His mother’s legs weren’t moving at all.
In the cold light, they almost looked blue.
He didn’t know how long he stood there for, frozen in fear, his heart crumbling inside him. For all her flaws, she was his mother and the only person in the world he truly loved. He didn’t want to see her like this. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was earlier. If he could go back through the tesseract, back to when his mother wasn’t lying in the alley, before his life changed forever, he would.
Be brave, Emmett told himself. You’re a big boy now.
And he was. He straightened up his shoulders.
Took in a deep breath.
And peered around the dumpster.
That night everyone heard the cries of that boy.
They seemed to bounce off the alley walls forever, drowning out the sirens and the chaos of the streets.
A horrible wailing that could have woken the dead.
Only it didn’t wake his mother.
Chapter 1
Emmett
28 years later
“You know if you touch me, he’ll kill you.”
Her words hang in the air. A little too long for my liking but I react as I’d planned.
“How do you know you won’t like it if I touch you?” I ask her, bringing the appropriate amount of sneer to my voice. I take a menacing step toward her back, her side profile lit just right, until I’m standing behind her. “It will be our secret.”
I wait a few beats, counting in my head, then lower my voice as I lift her hair off her shoulder. She smells like hairspray and my hand practically sticks to the strands. “I know you’ve been wanting a walk on the wild side for a long time. Now is your chance. Give in to me.”
At that she stiffens and it’s almost realistic. Is she really this repulsed by me in real life? She definitely wasn’t a few weeks ago when I was screwing her in her trailer.
“Cut!” Jackson yells, his voice booming across the set. “Sorry, Emmett, the line is walk on the dark side, not wild side.”
I roll my eyes, stepping away from Madison and look over my shoulder at him as he stands next to the playback screens, tired and frustrated. It’s eleven p.m. on Friday night and we’re into overtime once again. Everyone wants to go home, myself included, especially since I’ve got to be up bright and early for my friend Will’s wedding. I feel bad enough as it is, having to miss the rehearsal dinner tonight.
“I know my line,” I tell the director of the week, trying not to sound snippy. “But walk on the dark side is a little too Darth Vader for me.”
“I know. But look who our audience is,” Jackson says. “This is the CW network here. People get who Darth Vader is and they need to associate him with you. You’re the villain here, you’re the one that everyone wants to watch.”
“At the moment,” Madison mutters under her breath. I give her a sharp look and she can’t even be bothered to put on her fake smile in return.
“Of course, they’re here to see Madison, too,” Jackson offers. “But don’t hold back here, Emmett. You’re Cole Black. Doctor Death. People expect the puns, they expect you to be over-the-top. You know this by now.”
I sigh. Serves me right for trying to do this properly. Seems all those years in London’s West End theatres don’t count for shit when you’re playing the bad guy on a superhero show for teens.
I’m definitely not complaining though. I haven’t been on the rise for a good ten years. Hell, until six months ago, I was written up as a has been in the Canadian media. I mean, you know your career is going downhill when fucking Canada starts taking shots at you.
But ever since I landed the role of Doctor Death in the world’s most ridiculous superhero show, Boomerang, my life has completely turned around.
For the better, of course.
At least, I’m fairly sure.
You know when you’ve dreamed about something for so long, craved it so fiercely, that when you finally get it, you’re not sure what to do with it, or even how to feel?
That’s what I’m going through.
Some people might even say I’m not handling it all too well.
I try not to listen to them–the media especially.
The only problem is Autumn, my new publicist, is starting to say the same thing too.
But aside from sleeping with Madison and having it out with one of the script supervisors, I’m trying to be a fucking angel on set. It’s just that everywhere else, trouble seems to follow me.
With that in mind I take in a deep breath, swallow my pride and give Jackson a winning smile.
After All
Karina Halle's books
- Ashes to Ashes (Experiment in Terror #8)
- Come Alive (Experiment in Terror #7)
- Darkhouse (Experiment in Terror #1)
- Dead Sky Morning (Experiment in Terror #3)
- Into the Hollow (Experiment in Terror #6)
- Lying Season (Experiment in Terror #4)
- On Demon Wings (Experiment in Terror #5)
- Red Fox (Experiment in Terror #2)
- Come Alive
- LYING SEASON (BOOK #4 IN THE EXPERIMENT IN TERROR SERIES)
- Ashes to Ashes (Experiment in Terror #8)
- Dust to Dust