Psych Investigation Episodes: Episode 1 (A Young Adult Scifi / Fantasy) (16 page)

She stood up and raised her voice. “Oh, Jason,
counter-boy, I am in need of another service. Hurry yourself and
attend to me this instant!”

The shopkeeper grumbled and walked back over to
her. “Don’t tell me you need me to store another animal. We sell
‘em here, ya know?”

Requiem spat in his ugly face, causing him to
recoil in shock. “Silence! You do not proceed to give
me
orders, fool. I require a rabbit, of the bunny sort.”

The shopkeeper wiped the spittle from his chin
and wisely decided to ignore the gesture. “Well, we’ve got few
here. Take ya pick.” He pointed to a pen a few feet to their
left.

Inside, Requiem saw the things hopping around.
There were five in total, all roughly around the same size and
height. But yet, they weren’t all the same, no two animals ever
were. Only a fool assumed otherwise.

“
Counter-boy, give me the one on the
left. No, you fool, that’s your right. It’s no wonder you’re
selling rabbits! Yes, that one.”

Requiem cradled it in her arms and
smiled.

Oh! He’ll love this one. From what our
newest and dearest brother has told us, this should be just like he
remembers it.

Requiem brought it to the counter. “That’ll be
thirty-five even, ya sure you don’t want a cage for it?”

“
That won’t be required,” Requiem
responded.

“
Alright, so thirty-five bucks it
is.”

Requiem extended her arm over the counter, much
to the confusion of the shopkeeper. Gently, she flicked his
forehead with her index finger. In response, the shopkeeper opened
his drawer and pulled out a stack of twenty-dollar
bills.

“
Here’s your change, and thank you
for your business,” he said Requiem snatched it from his filthy,
animal-reeking fingers.

“
Ya know, I notice you come in here
a lot, and you never tell me ya name,”

“
Ah, but I always do, Darling. My
name is Requiem.”

The van pulled up to the diner. The
Golden
Pearl
was open around the clock and favored by the team. Paro
parked in the lot and turned off the ignition.

“
Alright, we’re here. The helicopter
will be here soon, but we should have enough time to talk. Kazou,
it’s your turn to sit something out. Roam the area. Make sure
nothing is after us. I doubt they would be, but it’s better to be
safe than sorry. Everyone else, we’re going inside.”

Sarah and Michael yawned in unison and exited
the van. Paro watched as Michael made small-talk with Sarah,
recommending certain foods, beverages, and desserts.

Paro still couldn’t believe someone like Jack
existed. Right now, after seeing what certain humans were capable
of, his world should have been shaken. He should’ve been in an
almost comatose state of deep thought, wondering what it meant and
trying to figure it all out. This is what was expected. Instead, he
was asleep with his head resting on Melissa’s shoulder.

“
Don’t get the wrong idea, Paro,”
she said with a sheepish look. “He’s finally stopped going on about
nonsense. I’m only doing this to keep him quiet.”

Paro laughed. “Good job then, Melissa. Jack,
wake up, we’re here.”

A moan of reluctance was the boy’s only
response.

“
Hey, Jack, get up.”

“
No …” the boy responded in between
licking his lips. “Five more minutes, go away. I promise, only five
more minutes.

Just when Paro was starting to calm down, his
frustration peaked yet again.

What is wrong with this
Harris-kid?

“
I’ll handle this, Paro,” Melissa
said. She slapped Jack on the back of the head, causing him to bolt
upright in the seat.

“
Ouch! What the hell? Who did that?”
Jack rubbed his head and looked at the two of them
accusingly.

“
Sorry about that—there was a
mosquito. I didn’t want it to bite you.”

“
Oh, oh well, in that case … thanks,
I guess.”

Jack followed Paro and Melissa into the
restaurant. The
Golden Pearl
was a smaller place, with
four round tables, seven booths, and a bar in the middle. It was
empty this early in the morning. Its only visible occupants were
the waiting staff, the bartender, and Michael huddled in the corner
booth with Sarah. Paro took a seat next to Sarah while Melissa
pushed Jack into the other end of the booth and sat next to him.
Jack still appeared drowsy and showed no indication of fear or
excitement. In his entire career, Paro had never seen anything even
close to this kind of behavior.

Why is he no longer frightened of us? He
even thinks we’re some kind of magic beings, and yet he just wants
to sleep and watch television?

A young waitress came by to take their
orders.

“
What will it be, ladies and
gentlemen?” She was cheerful. She unclipped her writing pad and
went around the table.

“
I’ll order the egg and onion
omelet,” Sarah said.

“
For me, I’ll just take French toast
on rye.” Melissa grinned. “I don’t want white-bread because that
stuff is
terrible
for you.”

“
What about you,
sweetheart?”

“
I don’t suppose you’re on the menu,
darlin’?” Michael asked. The waitress blushed, and Melissa gave
Michael an evil glare. Sarah turned her head away in
disgust.

Michael puffed his cheeks in imitation of a
small child. “Alright guys—don’t give me that look. Okay, I’ll take
the same as Sarah here.”

“
I just want water,” Paro said. “And
you, Jack?”

All the drowsiness that had been in Jack’s
expression faded away in its entirety. He was flipping through the
menu with a vigor that could only be called passionate.

“
Oh, wow, do I want the strawberry
pancakes, the chocolate chip ones, or the Breakfast Champions
combo? Oh man,” he said with excitement, “you guys have so much
stuff! Choosing something is the biggest hardship I’ve been through
all week.”

At this, every single member of Paro’s team,
including Paro himself, dropped their jaws and widened their eyes.
Luckily, they were quick to regain their composures.

“
Well, I say try our chocolate
pancakes, sweetie. They’re our best seller.”

“
True, I do agree that they have a
certain appeal,” Jack responded, oblivious to his reason for being
in the restaurant in the first place and soaking up valuable
time.

“
But let’s just think about this for
a minute, okay? Let’s say I
do
get the chocolate chip
pancakes. What if l take some home? In fact, I probably will,
because they always give you too much. Here’s the problem—for some
reason, chocolate chip pancakes dry out faster than other ones. I
don’t know why, and they’re never as good as they were before.
Also, while usually the most delicious of pancakes, chocolate chip
ones have a tendency to make me feel sick after eating them. I’m
never sure if it was worth getting them in the first place. Now,
let us discuss strawberry pancakes. If we highlight the pros and
cons, I think you’d find—”

Melissa’s shout was not actually a shout, but
in fact more like a bat-like screech.
“He’ll take the damn
chocolate ones!”

Paro said nothing. He couldn’t. He wasn’t
trained for this. Nothing had prepared him to deal with someone
like Jack. He only knew two things for certain. Number one, he was
now sure that the Harris-kid had nothing to do with the murders,
like Melissa had said. She was completely right about him. There
was no way in heaven, hell, or earth that this kid was a murderer,
excepting if he made you murder yourself. And secondly, Paro was no
longer sure that he would care enough to bring him in even if he
was a murderer. Sometimes work sucked.

Jack sighed happily while he munched on another
bite of the delicious chocolate chip pancakes. Melissa had been
right. They were the perfect choice. With a gulp of milk, he looked
around at the strange people surrounding him.

“
Jack, before we begin,” Paro said,
pushing aside his plate and revealing a thick tan folder, “I think
you should know who we are, what we are, and who
you
are.
This should clear up a lot of the confusion you’re
feeling.”

Jack nodded. It had been quite the strange
night.

“
You already know Melissa Sayre. To
my right are Michael Reed and Sarah Blighter. The Japanese man from
earlier is Kazou Takeshi, and myself.” He grinned. “Just call me
Paro.”

Jack lowered his fork and waved. “Well, it’s
nice to meet you guys, but I’m not really sure why all this has
been happening or umm, who those two people were that attacked me
and Melissa, but I guess I can try to help out.”

Jack didn’t understand why, but Paro visibly
relaxed, and he looked as if a burden had been lifted from his
shoulders. He slid a folder across the table towards Jack, who
pushed his plate to the side and opened it, frowning. Even just
seeing a picture of school was enough to make him cringe. Thoughts
of late assignments, future projects, and incomplete homework
returned to him in a rush.

“
Is this about that fire again?”
Jack asked.

“
Yes, it is, and very much so.
Before we can assess the bigger problem, we need to first give you
an idea of where all your involvement in this started.”

Jack looked down at the pictures of the burned
classroom, which was more than likely never usable again. It looked
nothing like he remembered it. The once colorful math classroom was
now nothing more than a box of charred items, none of which were
recognizable. He supposed the tiny black lumps were
desks.

“
Jack, we are not the sorcerers you
seem to think we are. We are known as Psychs. Everyone sitting at
this table is actually a Psych, and yes, that’s including you, Jack
Harris There is a much longer scientific name for what we are, but
even I can’t remember it, so this is what we call
ourselves.”

Paro continued, “I don’t know how long we’ve
existed for—how long people like us have been around, I mean. As
far as our history goes—if we’re being truthful here—I don’t know,
nor have I ever really cared. The reason my team exists is because
sometimes people born with our gifts take it upon themselves to
commit atrocities. They use what they were born with to slaughter
and take from others what they’ve no right to take. For instance,
Richard Davins, a classmate of yours. Here, see for yourself. Our
importance is easier shown than said.”

Paro slid another file across the table and
Jack opened it. In an instant, his cheer was gone. Jack recoiled at
the gruesome image. For a moment, it was hard to breath. Jack had
known this person. He had been walking and talking such a short
time ago. Now, he was nothing more than a bloodied clump of
gelatinous tissue, barely recognizable as a person, let alone a
person with hopes, dreams, and aspirations. This was beyond awful.
This was intolerable. A tear glided down the side of Jack’s
face.

Melissa looked at him sadly. Sarah leaned over
the table and dabbed Jack’s face with a soft cloth.