Interlude II : Thalia’s Tale

“Thaliana? I heard an EXPLOSION—” My heart fell down the stairs. Not metaphorically, nor literally. My muscle memory told me that voice wasn’t that of the raspy, cracked head teen I had to deal with his and Sammy’s shit. It was rather a smooth, silky lullaby that I always hear on a weekly basis on Sunday and Thursday. That often made me fall asleep before my tutoring with Sue.

Why is Officer Adams answering the call? My mind skidded over the incoming rounds of bullets that were getting fired from the door.

But, for this situation, he’s the one that we needed.

Desperately.

“Officer Adams! Remember that night of-” A bullet nearly missed my foot.

Shit…..

I lost track.

“THERE’S AN BLACK SUV FILLED WITH THOSE CULTISTS WE SAW THAT NIGHTS!”

Forgot where I was.

“YES! THEY ARE ARMED WITH GUNS! EVERYTHING!”

Forgot I was in the middle of a home invasion turned war zone.

“SAMMY HAS EVERY INTEL YOU COULD THINK OF—” My phone got shot in half. Bullets passing through every state of matter: walls, doors, metal. Anything you name it.

The two cultist are firing their shots from the living room, they broke through the living room windows with a homemade bomb.

That’s what Helios announced.

Well, he’s wrong.

It’s impossible for a civilian to get their hands on such a destructive bomb that could break through the recycled-my-papa-homemade Transparent Armor windows. Its devastation is equivalent to that of HEAT warhead.

But why did they just go through the door, why the hustle?

Not because of strategy, no ambush….

Worse…. To torment us. Just plain cruelty.

To rip our minds, even beyond past the human PTSD trauma limit.

Bacillus, the kiddo who was engage with his vomiting, rushed to the door to open up.

Despite screaming at him not to.

We all did.

Because ….

In the peephole…..

He saw papa….

Without waiting for a split second, he opened the door….

With a relieved smile, wide open mouth ready to devour whatever snacks papa brought from his excursion.

But, he stumbled upon to find papa’s head.

Only his head….

Handing up with….. my violin strings…. From my bow dangling down from the porch-lamp.

That bow…. strings….. violin were the only, last gifts I received from my mother. Before she….. Deceased.

My back arched for an incoming vomit. My knees buckled…..

SNAP

My head felt heavier than ever…..

OUT

My hands were numbed out…..

OF

My legs like dragging an anchor…. Tied to both feet.

IT

I just want to take a small….

SNAP OUT OF IT!

I held every thing together, continuing my ascend up the stairs. I swallowed it back with a gasp and gritted teeth.

Couldn’t afford to fall apart.

Because, I reminded myself of what papa had said before he had gone out.

To get my late mother’s violin polished up, for their 30th anniversary. I pressed my fingers to my forehead, still feeling his kisses on my forehead. The airtight bear hugs, my brothers teasing his mirror like baldy head, and him telling me I meant so much to my mama for being the lady I am today.

How much I would be sucking up to her falafels.

Because those were my favorites foods of all.

Still will be until my body reunites with the Earth and reborn anew.

She would have made it every time we would have breakfast, lunch dinner till you get sick of it. She was an E. coli. My E. coli.

He ruffled my head, kissed my forehead, and walked out in the bright afternoon sun……. Going full radio silent afterward.

And was it.

That caused the trigger for those cultists to initiate whatever the hell Coby planned to do with us.

“Bacillus! Thalia! HEADS UP!” That made me pull myself to the railings, pushing the dazed Bacillus towards the wall.

Calyx shouted from the top of the stairs, who previously firing wildly over the banister. He ducked behind the wall just in time, knocking down portraits, vases, glasses, plants—anything he could grab within his post—and hurling them down the steps like improvised grenades.

He dropped the Cycle of Doom.

Not metaphorically, but literally.

Bacillus’s rusted, sticker-covered bicycle—lovingly named the Cycle of Doom—bounced down the grippy stairs, picking up speed like a demon on wheels. It smashed full-force into one of the off-guard cultists, whose deep, whisky-soaked laughter cracked into a high-pitched teen-girl shriek.

That did the trick.

There was a split-second pause—then instinct hijacked us.

The moment hit—Bacillus and I moved. No thought.

At the pause, Bacillus and I lunged into action—pure instinct—and sprinted after Calyx down the hall.

Bacillus and I bolted—probably breaking Sue’s record.

It wasn’t until we slammed the attic door shut behind us that my emotions finally caught up. My body only then registered my wet face covered in dust, blood, and smoke once we were breathing in the attic. It was as if I was high on something, only to realize its existence upon its withdrawal.

I licked my bruised knuckles.

That’s when the pain flared. Right as I heard a loud thud.

Calyx had flopped onto his back, tangling his rainbow, bright hair in the spidery webs. Breathing in the rush, tension, the action that just happened in the past few minutes.

The blurry lines of violence and survival might have triggered something in Bach, as well.

He kept on crouching, crouching….

My body moved before my brain did.

I reached for him and pushed him flat against the attic floor, grounding him.

I have this motto, from my childhood, that goes : ‘Thalia’s the righteous one! Never the one in the wrong!’

It would ring and be blurted out from my own mouth whenever I was right.

I’d shout it with pride, every single time.

Until recent light of events that weaponized that silly motto into a deadly bomb.

And….

Oh, how I hated being right at that moment…..

Bacillus was shot—

My eyes didn’t want to believe what my hands already knew.

The warmth under my palms wasn’t just sweat. It was wet—sticky.

I pulled my hands back and—

Blood.

All over my fingers, smeared across his shirt.

“No, no, no, no—”

My voice cracked as I grabbed at his side, trying to find the wound, trying to undo it.

He blinked at me.

Not panicked.

Just… tired.

His resting bitch face.

Oh, how I hated it……

Am I ever……

going to……

see it again?

“You’re okay,” I spitted out the lies as if I was on an interrogation to save my ass.

“You’re gonna be okay, Bach. I promise.”

Calyx scrambled beside me, eyes wide.

“Shit—Thal. Give me a minute. Hold him for me, okay?”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

I was pressing both hands against the small, tiny wound now, as if I could hold him together with nothing but pressure and fear.

Fake it, till you make it….

“Look at me, Bach,” I whispered.

“You’re not judging m—e—me—ee, li—k—li—like this.”

My hands shook even more, begging for Calyx to come over faster.

“Sis,” he pushed back my hair……. Only to flip me off with a crooked smirk.

“Had to make sure… you got a nice view of this.” Funny till the end.

NO!

THIS ISN’T THE END!

“Of course not,” he mumbled in response.

He clumsily grabbed three strands of my hair, trying to make a braid for me.

Which makes my hair even messier than ever. Or even worse.

But I let him do it.

For now.

He’s the enemy for whom I would host his funeral without any remorse of my defeats against him and in tears for all the losses he gave me in my life.

Because….. he’s my little brother.

As simple as that—

“DUMBASS GOT GRAZED, AND ACTING AS IF IT’S HE’S GONNA DIE!” Calyx’s voice cracked through the attic like lighting striking down, dragging me out of my spiral.

What?

Since when did he get here—

“Thalia? I need you here.” I blinked, and suddenly we weren’t in the attic anymore.

We were in Bacillus’s bedroom.

The fish tank was buzzing with life (a bunch of Nemo and Dories swam with no motive in life) in the corner, casting neon blues across the mess— monster mobs plushies, nerf guns scattered like we were still mid-battle, cardboard cutouts of ocean animals were left out across the carpet.

Nerf darts jammed in the nooks and crannies.

Sticky stains where soda had once exploded with Mentos.

His whole room looked like it was paused in time.

A place that never expected to see blood.

“Su-ure, Helios.” I looked back on Bacillus finally resting on his monster-fruit-themed bed and Calyx scrolling aimlessly through his phone, eyes glazed over. Probably checking up on his thirst traps on ‘clikclok’.

What the hell’s happening to me?

“You’re facing blackouts,” his voice soften as he grabbed my arm and gently pulled me to face him. “It’s common…. It happens a lot. My pals have it like….like…. a common flu?”

He looked at me.

For confirmation.

“You’re asking me?” I rolled my eyes, folding my arms—only to wince as pain shot through my shoulder, forcing them apart again.

“Pulled a muscle, maybe,” he said with a half-smile. “Time for some pea bags…. and questions.”

At that my smile dropped.

“How much did Sammy tell you?” Words barely crawled out.

“Enough to piece together what kind of asshole Coby was.” He quietly admitted to my doubts.

All of my doubts.

I, against Casper’s wishes, told Sammy everything. The treasure hunt, Coby’s cult friends and the rules….

1. “Don’t involve anyone else who isn’t related.”

Now that Sammy broke its number one rule, he faced the consequences.

So, did me and Casper.

Casper got drugged for telling Officer Adams about the treasure hunt.

Whereas, I got ambushed.

In my home.

My safe-zone.

My steps came to an abrupt end at the stairs as I saw a black garbage bag.

With a pungent smell of human decay.

“Don’t worry. He’s dead. I made sure of it.” Helios coolly admitted to killing one of them off-screen. He stopped at the end of the stairs, to make sure I didn’t see the aftermath of the shoot-out.

Blocking my view.

The living room door was shut close.

Deliberately.

He turned to me with an unreadable expression.

“Listen,” he started, voice low but steady. “I managed to keep the other one alive. But you need to promise me something, alright?”

I stiffened.

This was a pep talk.

A controlled fire before the storm.

“You keep your anger in check. You ask the questions—I will interrogate. You find the evidence—I investigate. Deal?”

He held out two clean, white plastic gloves.

His own were already stained red.

Still sticky.

I took them in silence.

I never got to ask how he was feeling.

But from the looks of it…. So far so okay-ish.

His face was clean, scrubbed raw as he tried to wash off the excess blood off. But the water still clung to his neck, and a faint trail of suds outlined his jawline.

He wore a black sleeveless shirt and those ridiculous Hawaii pants I got for him on Christmas…… But, everything else about him reeked of death.

But he moved like a soldier who couldn’t afford to break.

A few grazes here and there. A nasty bruise blooming across his forehead, bluish-purple. A swollen elbow he would touch when he thought I wasn’t looking, only to flinch back a bit.

All I wanted was to ask him.

But I didn’t.

It’d irritate him.

So I left it.

Instead, I clung to gratitude—gratitude for his paranoia, his obsession with always wearing his bullet vest, even when no one else did.

It probably saved his life.

I twisted the doorknob.

Helios stepped-in. I followed.

Mask on.

“OH! IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE EARTHQUAKE, YOU–YOU ALL WOULD HAVE DIED!” The bruised up cultist kept on barking until Helios pressed his gun to the head. Tilting his tied up chair backwards, prepping him up for an interrogation session.

Good. That better shut him.

“Did you and your….” I couldn’t just throw the word ‘friends’ that carelessly.

Helios took on the cue.

“She asked a question.” Helios pressed even more, causing a wound rip open, blood dripped down the cultist face.

“Re-restorers!” I looked up at Helios, blinking at him to let him know that this is new information. That I never heard of. Ever.

To confirm, I sat at the sofa where all the evidences lied open for me : a wallet, walkie-talkie, and pack of cigarettes.

I went through his wallet first, only to stumble upon a shocking truth.

My fingers worked their charms through the bills and cards.

“Helios….” I quietly reached out my hand.

A fake police ID card.

I hope it is

“Hmm?” ” He took the ID card and turned it over in his hands, inspecting it with a calm eyes that sent chills down my spine.

I could feel my pulse in my throat, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off the card.

It felt heavier than it should.

“Laminated, check. Textured seal. Feels legit.” He tossed the card back at me with an easy flick of his wrist.

But, my gaze stayed adamant on the ID card picture.

“That’s definitely his face. A little older now, but the ginger hair color is still intact. It’s him alright.” He comforted me, until his eyes dropped to the picture as well, catching up on my thought process.

A flash of understanding crossed his face.

“Detective Piers,” the bruised up guy flinched on the shift in my demeanor. “What the hell have you been up to?”

A slight shift in his posture, a subtle hesitation.

But only for a moment.

His eyes narrowed, lips curling into a thin line as the weight of the situation settled in.

“Don’t tell me,” Helios’s voice steady but with an edge, “this is Piers?”

“The very one who’s supposed to be at the hospital, guarding it 24/7.”

I eyed him with disgust.

I usually don’t appreciate the Halloween’s pranks on egging or toileting the sweet elderly’s houses, but boy, I felt a surge of satisfaction that Sammy toileted his house. Along with Coby and Casper. They do get the credits for this one.

“Huh,” I spitted out, taking a step closer. “And here I thought you were at the hospital—by Casper’s side. Protecting him from people….. like you.”

Helios didn’t take a second as to what I wanted to know.

He slammed the chair leg with his slippers, knocking it clean over and sending Piers crashing sideways to the floor.

“If it weren’t for that boy….” He mumbled.

Helios abusively grabbed the man by the collar of his black cloth robe, and yanked him up so hard the chair legs scraped against the floor.

“Say his name.”

His voice was low. Deadly.

“Say it. I dare you.”

“If I don’t?” The gun was pointed.

“Why Casper? Why are you so pissed at him? That too, over a toileting?” I laughed, bitter and sharp.

Oh, ego. Sweet manly ego.

Without it, a world could have been a little bit better place. At least.

“WHAT??? YOU THINK I AM DOING THIS FOR THAT BOY???” Helios shot glances at him, making sure his grab wasn’t too tight for him to bash out.

“I am confused-” Making me take a step back with my statement.

“OHHH??? YOU THINK I AM PISSED OVER SUCH A SUABLE THING. WELL, LITTLE MISSY….. I AM NOT!” The cultist barked, his face turning red with rage.

“I AM TAKING FULL ACCOUNT FOR MURDERING THAT SAMUEL BOY’S PARENTS, BECAUSE THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT HE AND HIS FOLKS DID TO MY BROTHER!”

His voice cracked with a bitter, manic pride.

A bad feeling gripped my stomach.

“Your brother?” I forced out.

“Jackie. The man you…. filthy teens call, a child molester.”

His voice dropped into something raw and broken.

That name—

Not Jackie…

No….

He laughed, but it was hollow, cracked.

“THAT LITTLE KID JUST CRIED OVER HIM FOR GETTING PETTED DOWN THERE? DON’T YOU THINK HE OVER-REACTED? OH, LORDS! THE SIGHT OF RELIEVE WHEN THE JURY RULED IN JACKIE’S FAVOR BECAUSE OF THE GALVINS’ WEALTH. THEY DID IT IN EXCHANGE FOR HIS WELL BEING. ISN’T THAT GREAT?”

He leaned forward, sneering. “Because of the media, Jackie’s life was destroyed. And you call that justice? Hell, I had eventually taken up my half-assed mother’s maiden name, to escape.”

The cultist leaned back, now towards Helios, eyes wild.

“Wouldn’t you do that for your little sister?”

I didn’t even notice my hand shaking.

“WELL, EITHER WAYS! I AM FOREVER INDEBTE-” Helios didn’t let him finish his….. I don’t know what that was.

Helios slammed his gun into the man's skull—

Then shot him in the lap.

A scream ripped through the silence.

Only to be followed a ‘buzz-buzz’.

“THALIA! NO—” But i couldn’t hold back, I lunged for the walkie-talkie.

I needed answers.

More than ever.

“PIERS? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? AND WHY ARE YOUR TEAM SHOOTING PEOPLE AT THE HOSPITAL? DIDN’T I MAKE IT CLEAR NOT TO CROSS THE LINE-” The patched-up-buzzy voice caller must have realized that it wasn’t Piers.

Rather, it was me.

“Thalia…” I recognized that snarky growl, whenever he lost a debate against Casper.

It’s Coby’s.

I called him out. “Coby, you have under 5 minute-”

“This wasn’t part of the plan,” he clarified. “Something’s going on. I don’t know what it is, but at this rate….. I don’t think Sammie will make it out alive.”

Sammy…. That got all my attention warped around this fucker.

That name pulled all the rage and fear right back to the surface.

I needed to trust no one. But I required answers more.

“How can I trust you?” Helios shook his head at me, while he dragged out the unconscious Piers out.

Even he's on the edge.... he never prays regliously.

Now, I was all alone in the living. Only with Coby on the line.

“The net’s down. It's gonna be back after a couple of days because of the second earthquake.” Why can’t I remember the second earthquake?

CUZ you were in a life/death situation, silly.

“How bad is it?” I could hear his eye roll, even through the walkie-talkies.

“6.7 magnitude. Hope that answers your question. Good news: The hospital is in good status. No destruction, whatsoever” Relief crashing over me.

I have so much work to do. First thing first, gather supply and deliver it to Sammy and Casper.

God knows what’s happening there.

“Your SAT-phonie will connect to Piers’ SAT-phonie. Heard that one of the Officers might have it. Either ways, I bet they already started it.” That made me stop in the middle of the stairs.

One of the Officers? I wondered who else could be in it.

“What do you mean by they already started?” I rushed into Calyx’s room.

It's very tidy for a med student.

“Why, the shoot-out of course!” I catapulted the empty duffel bag onto the bed with a thud..

“Listen here. I am not in the mood for games. Tell me why did your family ruled in favor of Jackie Ferris.” My tone became as strict as a molecular composition.

No answer.

Of course not.

I ignored him and continued my work.

The cupboard opened with a soft creak. I braced for chaos—scrubs and gym hoodies crammed in like a trash heap.

Instead?

I got greeted with.... unsettlingly organized.

Each hanger spaced exactly the same.
Shirts grouped by color : whites to grays, then blues, then blacks.

Beneath the rack, a single drawer slid open with a soft push. Inside were folded trousers, socks rolled in pairs, boxer briefs lined like it was some kind of hospital supply cabinet.

I started to pick out clothes randomly and in-between smelt it, to make sure they were all clean.

It smelled faintly of Sammy’s detergent.

Forget it.

“Yeah, Coby? What’s going on?” I pressed the walkie back to my ear while grabbing soaps and two fresh towels.

By the time I finished cleaning up, Bacillus and Calyx were both passed out, barely breathing through their exhaustion. Easy for me to quickly steal the SAT-Phone, from the office.

Except for Helios.

I ran into him, while I was dashing down the stairs with the duffel bag hung over my shoulders. As for he was coming from the basement. I didn’t even know we had one.

“They breached the hospital, Sammie might be in trouble.”

I knew what Helios was probably thinking before he gave on it: Don’t argue. Don’t waste time.

“I’ll drive,” he said, already moving. “You get everything from that.” He gestured to the walkie-talkie slung loosely in my grip.

The coat hanger rattled behind him as he shrugged off his pale denim jacket with one swift motion.

I hesitated.

The boys—

“They’ll be fine,” Helios cut in, already predicting me. “I called Marshall. He’s in the basement, dealing with the cultists. He’ll watch them.”

Without another word, I bolted into the car, cramming myself into the backseat as Helios keyed the ignition awake.

“You may be wondering why I admitted Piers to my team, right?”

“Yes.” Didn’t like one minute as to why the uneasiness kept on increasing in me.

He said it all in one breath, like exhaling poison.

A gasp broke out from the far end of the room. 

Then silence.

That made something in me flicker. 

Hope? 

Spite? 

Maybe both.

“So I am on the track to make sure that those people get shitty results!”  Now, that made me feel quite optimistic.

“Tell me more about it.” I asked while dialling my Sammy's SAT phone no.

I took one last glance at our beautiful home from the past couple of years, knowing I wouldn’t return as the same person who left it.