November 25, 2016

  Age 17

  17 Days After Ms. Kathy’s Death

  Bloodvex Entry — “The Watcher’s Patience”

  “Bloodvex never ran blindly.

  He chose the quiet places, the forgotten places.

  A villain survives not by speed,

  but by choosing a world that never looks for him.”

  — From Mother’s Stories, Night 14

  Funny how those stories make more sense now.

  ---

  The Setup

  Do you know how hard it is to move through a suburban neighborhood without being noticed?

  No — I don’t think you do.

  There are cameras on every corner, retirees pretending to rake leaves while staring straight at you, and a neighborhood watch group that treats anyone under thirty like a threat to national security.

  A boy in dark clothes doesn’t blend in here.

  So I did what Bloodvex would do.

  I watched.

  Aunt Louis has a routine so predictable it could be printed on a brochure.

  Up at 6:30.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Thirty?minute shower.

  Gym.

  Brunch with Samantha Tibet and Gabby Woodsworth.

  Then her husband picks up their daughter and they all go to the farmers market like the poster family for “suburban bliss.”

  Meanwhile I’m sleeping wherever I can, counting coins for a burger, and not even enough for a Diet Dr Pepper.

  Life’s hilarious like that.

  ---

  The Moment

  I’ve developed a nervous tick these past two weeks.

  Stress.

  Lack of sleep.

  Too much thinking.

  Every time I see her — her pearls, her perfect hair, her perfect life — something inside me tightens. Not out of anger. Not out of revenge.

  Out of recognition.

  She represents everything I wasn’t given.

  Everything she refused to be.

  Everything she lied about.

  The police haven’t found anything yet, but I know they’re getting close.

  They always get close eventually.

  They’ll run the DNA.

  They’ll match it.

  They’ll remember the cold case from when I was eleven.

  They’ll pull the files.

  They’ll see the inconsistencies.

  They’ll see the lies.

  And then they’ll see me.

  Not Lachlan Welles.

  Not the quiet kid who vanished.

  Not the boy Aunt Louis hid in the back room.

  They’ll see Peter Heinzburg.

  Which means I need to leave.

  Not just the neighborhood.

  Not just the city.

  The state.

  Ohio is too close.

  Too familiar.

  Too watched.

  Nebraska, though?

  Nebraska is empty.

  Nebraska is quiet.

  Nebraska is the kind of place where no one asks questions because no one expects anything interesting to happen.

  Bloodvex would approve.

  ---

  The Curation

  I need a plan.

  I need distance.

  I need a place where the world forgets to look.

  Nebraska will do.

  So I went back to the notebook.

  Leather?bound.

  Unlabeled.

  Waiting.

  I turned to the second page and wrote:

  Lesson 2: The Watcher’s Patience

  “A proper villain does not flee.

  He studies the storm forming around him.

  He chooses the quietest road,

  the one no one else thinks to follow.”

  ---