Chapter 210

210 Fulton’s Warning

We were done with the planning, and I found myself certainly less convinced than before, but I also found that I was not nearly as concerned as I had been before. Why? It’s because we were going to be doing this in pairs; that meant that I would be with Malachi and Fulton, and they would be with me.

But as they left, Fulton tapped my shoulder-grabbing my attention. “Yeah?” I asked, but his face was worried, with a definite expression that almost made me worried myself. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said.

I didn’t say anything, and he sat down by me with a particular speed that was much slower than usual. “Listen, I know this may not be the best time, but I mean-better late than never,” he said with a weak smile that made me-very, very weird. He didn’t say anything, and only silence filled his mouth, so I was left wondering what he wanted to talk about.

“It’s about your father...” he said. “Again.”

My face crumbled, and my face was still with no sort of particular movement. “You’re still on this nonsense with my father?”

“Listen, listen-please,” he said, his face looking at mine and his breathing was heavy, “listen!” He breathed out before he continued, “I’ve seen what you see in him, I know how he makes you feel...and it’s not right, not for you.”

Huh?

What does-what does that even mean?

“What does that even-what is that even supposed to mean?” I asked him straightly, not understanding what it was that he was trying to say to me.

.....

He was looking at me intently, like I was a stranger or something. “I know what you see in him. A loving father who cares about you, with my father and everything. But trust me, he’s not what you think he is.”

“How exactly?” I asked, shifting my position, wanting to get up and walk away from him.

“You know, he’s not that great father you think he is. He’s got different plans for you, and you can’t, you can’t let him do this to you,” he said. “Get as far away from him as you can.”

“No, stop!” I said, getting up. He was still on this nonsense because of the trauma of his father, and now I couldn’t take it. I was really getting sick of being told about him. “No! Get lost!”

He stood up too. “You have no idea what you’re getting into with him!”

“Then tell me, what is so dangerous about him. What does he want to use me for?!” I asked him, but Fulton stopped, and he was silent.

“Look at your hair,” he finally said.

I looked at my hair and saw the colour of it change to a reddish-orange shade as it shimmered in the light. “I’m not changing my hair,” I said. “It’s beautiful!”

“Your eyes, they glow,” he said. I was silent at the statement, not knowing what to say. So what, it turned reddish-orange, so what does that even mean? And what did it have to do with anything?

“What are you talking about?” I asked, but his face turned a bright shade of red, almost redder than my hair. “You know what... nothing, just don’t worry about it,” he said, leaving his hands up, with a look of fear and unease in his eyes as I stared back at him. He didn’t say anything else.

I thought he had left me alone with my own thoughts and the question of what he had meant by all this-but suddenly his voice cut through my head like a knife.

“You don’t know the truth, you don’t know who your father really is! He’s not just a nice guy that cares about you!” he said. “You have to get out of there, you have to get out now!”

“What truth? What truth are you talking about?” I asked, but he ignored me and walked away. I sighed as I looked at him, then I sat back down and shook my head, thinking he was a real imbecile. He was probably just jealous of my father.

I felt my mind wandering off again, wondering why Fulton was so obsessed with my father and what he did. Why did he hate him so much? What had he done? Why was he so scared? But the real question was-was it true? Was he right, or was he wrong? Did I even care enough to find out? And more than that-did my father really do anything bad? Or was Fulton just making up some kind of crap just to make himself feel better about his father’s absence?

No, of course not...right? Fulton is not telling me that because it’s not true. My father is not like that. He’s not a bad person-he’s not. He would never hurt anyone...hurt me...

I started feeling uneasy again and the uneasiness kept growing and growing. I started feeling nervous as if I didn’t want to be here anymore, but then I heard Malachi call my name. I turned around to see Malachi standing there in confusion as if I was crazy, although I’m pretty sure I am.

“You good?” he asked while looking at me, and I nodded with a look of surprise. He was always very good at reading people’s expressions and their body language. “Because-you’re acting weird.”

“I’m not,” I said, still looking down at the floor.

“You are,” he said, pointing his finger at me and staring me down. “You definitely are, and I don’t know why. Are you scared?”

“About what?”

“The mission?” he answered quickly, and I looked at him, confused.

“Why would I be?” I asked him, although I already knew the answer.

He looked at me intently. “Because it’s dangerous.”

“What’s dangerous?”

“Everything,” he answered bluntly.

“Everything?” I asked again.

He nodded. “The mission is dangerous enough on its own without other factors being taken into account,” he said in his calm, reassuring voice as if he was talking to a child. “I’d expect you to be somewhat scared.” I shook my head at his comment as I looked away from him, feeling slightly insulted at the way he had been talking to me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He paused, thinking before he answered. “Because you’ve never been like this before,” he said calmly. “And I’ve been working with you for a while now.”

“A while? You’ve only known me for a few months,” I said, and his eyes widened, but then he shook his head. “It’s been almost a year, cut me some slack,” he said with a little chuckle, and I shook my head at him again, annoyed.

“Anyway,” he said as if trying to distract me from this conversation, “the mission itself is dangerous. There’s a high chance of death, but we’re trained to deal with that kind of thing-but there’s no guarantee that we’ll win. But I just came here to tell you, we’re gonna be alright-alright?” I chuckled at him but my face was not exactly showing the best expression for this situation, but it seemed to work, and he smiled back at me. “We’re gonna be alright,” he repeated and started walking away again.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I said with a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m glad that you know that,” he said, holding two thumbs up, then he walked away again as he waved at me, and I waved back. “See you soon.”

“Sure,” I said, and he nodded back to me as he walked away. I sighed as I looked at him, just how confident he was, how relaxed he was, how he had no fear of anything. I had seen him kill people, and yet here he was, acting like it was nothing to him-like he was just doing his job like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

I mean, you guys already know me, but I have never been a person who can handle stress very well. I have always had a hard time when it comes to missions, and that’s not even taking into account how bad I am at dealing with people. Like I’m telling you, I am bad, okay? It’s a fact. But even though I don’t handle stress well, I usually don’t get scared too much...

Not this time.

I felt my heart beating faster as my mouth went dry and I felt dizzy, but not because of the mission-no, not that. It was something else entirely that was making me feel like this. But why? What was happening to me? Was it the mission? Was it because of what Fulton said to me?

Maybe it was Fulton...you know what-whatever, I don’t care... I didn’t care about anything anymore. I just felt as if my mind was not working right and that I was getting sick and that I was going to faint...but that didn’t happen, instead I just started feeling very uneasy again.

I thought back to what Fulton said to me about my father-I didn’t even know what it was all about and why did it make me feel so uneasy and scared? I don’t know. I don’t know.