Chapter 13

Logan silently wiped down the bar counter whilst Grace sat at a table, drawing pictures nearby. Her bunny sat on a chair with its own crayon and paper, as if it were drawing too. He glanced up at the clock, checking the time once more.

Rebecca seemed to be running late. It wasn’t like her at all. She’d barely ever missed a shift. She even came to work a few weeks back, sniffling like a coked-up Sydneysider. The woman didn’t know how to take a day off. She was always the reliable one, and Logan was the one who knocked off in the early arvo.

The pub door burst open, and a panting Rebecca entered.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she apologised between breaths.

“That’s alright, I’ll just deduct it from your wage,” Logan joked.

“What wage? You work me to the bone for only a few cents,” she snapped back.

“Obviously, I am talking about your payment of time with Grace.”

“I’ll take this up with the Madam Esmeralda Union!”

“Please don’t,” Logan begged. Even as a joke, the idea of Madam Esmeralda yelling at him was too much to bear.

“Anyway, I’m late because I barely got any sleep last night.” She leaned in to Logan, keeping her voice down so Grace wouldn’t overhear. “Did you hear shots last night?”

“Oh thank God, I thought I’d imagined it,” Logan replied.

“It was noisy as hell. What do you think happened?”

“I haven’t the faintest.”

“Do you think we should ask around?”

Logan paused to think. He was curious about the noise. If something dangerous were going on, it would be nice to know about it.

“Daddy! Look, I drew a picture,” Grace called out, reminding Logan that he shouldn’t cause a stir, or it could impact Grace as well.

“Let me have a look,” Logan replied, unable to hide his large smile.

Grace ran up to him, handing him a drawing of a stick-figure girl beside a taller man.

“This is Daddy protecting me,” she proudly explained.

“I thought that girl looked like the prettiest in the world,” Logan commented, causing Grace to avoid his eyes, but she smiled with a wide grin. Logan added, “You know, you’re looking more like your old man every day.”

“That’s not really a compliment,” Rebecca chimed in, whipping his back with a kitchen towel.

“Oi! I thought I was pretty good looking!”

“Yeah, but most girls wouldn’t want to look like their dads.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. The fact you thought she would is kind of pathetic.”

Grace stepped forward and spread her arms as if to shield her dad. “Don’t be mean to Daddy. Daddy is the coolest person in the world.”

Logan placed his arms around his daughter, pulling her into him. At the same time, he stuck his tongue out at Rebecca, and she flipped the bird back.

That evening, Logan was awakened to more gunshots. Something that continued the following nights. It became a common occurrence. Yet nobody said anything.

No one dared.

Not with the surveillance throughout the town.

But there was something everyone was thinking, even if they didn’t say it out loud. Townsfolk seemed to be silently vanishing one by one. Adults, kids, men, women, and even the few pets of the town. The shops that had previously only been nearly empty became fully deserted. As if the owners just packed up shop and left.

Meanwhile, agents seemed to be increasingly present. None of them offered even the slightest clue as to what was happening after dark.

With so many eyes watching.

Observing their every action.

There was nothing that could be done anyway. That’s why Logan eventually got used to the evening gunshots. They became white noise, no different than the chirping cicadas or the occasional drunken bogan going on a rant about why Bollinwood was the best AFL team.

Logan’s eyes shot open to the sound of his door slowly creaking open.

Darkness.

The sound of bullets flying outside.

But this wasn’t the noise that awoke him. Grace was standing in the doorway, clutching her stuffed bunny.

How long had she been standing there? Just watching him sleep.

“What’s up, sweetie?”

“Daddy, I don’t feel well,” she responded sleepily.

Logan sat up in his bed.

“You aren’t feeling well?”

She shook her head.

“Alright, do you want a hug?”

“Mhm,” she mumbled with a nod.

She took a step forward before she gripped her left arm. Her face contorted into a pained expression. Logan immediately knew something was seriously wrong.

He rushed out from his bed, but before he could take a step, Grace let out a pained cry as her arm ripped apart. Countless lavender tendrils spilled through the gaps, and drops of red blood dripped onto the hardwood floor below. The tendrils writhed as if reaching toward Logan.

Grace’s eyes widened in shock. Her mouth opened, and as it did, her rosy cheeks tore away. Her mouth slit open on her left-hand side, revealing jagged teeth.

“Daddy? What’s happening?” she asked, nervously taking a step backwards.

“I don’t know, but it’ll be okay,” Logan replied, taking a step forward.

“I’m scared,” she sobbed.

Honestly, Logan was scared too. Not for himself, but because of the terror and fear Grace must’ve been feeling. That, and the uncertainty of how to look after her. Nor whether her life was in any danger.

“You don’t have to be scared. Daddy is here,” he offered. He took a step forward, trying to comfort his daughter.

“No!” she screamed. Her tendrils flew forward, grazing his cheek. Logan could feel the sting and the slight trickle of blood falling down his face.

Grace saw what she had done to Logan and took a step backward.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean…” She trailed off, turning around and rushing out of the room.

Logan knew that if he didn’t follow her, he’d never get another chance to tell her he loved her. He didn’t even hesitate to chase after her. But even as an adult, he couldn’t keep up, only just catching a glimpse as she exited the front door.

୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯❤︎⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

End of Chapter 13