ZACH PART TWO
Zach’s mother tried to pull him into a tight embrace as his father towered over them. The look in his eyes was pure hatred. Did his father actually hate him? It didn’t matter. He didn’t care. Not really. Something inside him kept him from caring. He pushed against his mother’s hard abdomen. The corset giving him enough solidity to break free.
“Oh, Zach. Are you alright? Never leave me like that again. Do you hear me young man? A dead body is no place for a child to be.” His mother was in near hysterics.
If she only knew the dead things he played with in his room. Maybe that was why his father looked at him like that. Maybe he knew. Zach searched the train compartment for the cold man and couldn’t find him in all the chaos. Something told him his future lay with that man. He needed to find him. Needed to find out what he was. That strength, that coldness. He knew how that coldness felt from his experiments but the strength. Those eyes? He still felt as if those eyes were on him.
The rest of the trip went without incident. Well, mostly. Zach spent all his time searching the train for the cold man. He never found him, but he always searched. At night, he would wake from dreams of him in a cold sweat. It left him weak. His mother fussed over him, but he pushed her away saying he was fine. The food smelled foul. No matter how much water he drank, he was still left with a thirst.
Finally, as the train pulled into the station, his mother insisted on taking Zach to the town doctor. His father dismissed it all as another stunt for attention and went off to a local tavern. When they got to the doctor’s house, she told him of Zach’s progressive illness on the train. For a brief second, the doctor’s eyes dimmed with a knowledge he knew he couldn’t share. Instead, he gave Zach’s mother a brown glass bottle of tonic to give him every night before bed.
That afternoon they left by horse drawn carriages. The road was bumpy. There was nothing to do. His mother was fascinated by the scenery passing them by and tried hard to get him interested as well. Instead, he retreated to his dark thoughts. The eyes of that man still haunted him. He wasn’t afraid. He was simply curious. And you know what curiosity gets you.
His mother gave him his medicine as they traveled. He tried to refuse but his father made a point to hold him down. It made Zach violently ill. They stopped many times along the road just so he could vomit. Still, the medicine kept being given. The hatred emanating from his father was stifling.
After what seemed like forever, the carriage passed into Bucharest. This is what finally caught Zach’s attention. Countless Romanians filled the sidewalks. Top hats bounced up and down as they walked. Towering buildings lined the streets. Each one impersonated a palace. Fancy stonework decorated three or more stories of windows while even more intricate designs framed doorways. The only thing that Zach didn’t see was a blade of grass. That was fine by him. He never enjoyed nature anyway.
Come to think of it, the only time he enjoyed anything was when a life was held in his small hands. He held the choice between life or death. That was what fascinated him.
Several turns had them stopping in front of yet another three-story building. At this point, they all started looking the same. The only difference with this one was it had a small iron fence trapping one singular tree surrounded by perfectly cut grass.
When they came to a complete stop, a swarm of servants poured out of the house. They began taking in all of their luggage and his mother had a lot. Several unhitched the horses bringing them around another corner. Zach couldn’t see where they were going, however. As soon as the light flooded in from the now open carriage door, it stung his eyes. Maybe he had been in the damnable carriage for too long. He smiled knowing if his mother knew he thought that word, it would make her upset.
His father stepped out and walked straight into the building not even looking back to see if his wife or child followed. His mother was not as cold. She practically glided down onto the sidewalk as a proper lady should. One delicate hand lifted towards him. Zach stared at it but refused her help. He jumped down. He was eight after all. Not a child anymore.
Zach straightened his vest and jacket. One day he would get to wear a top hat and be a real gentleman, not that he was gentle by any means. A cold chill ran up his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. This was a feeling he was not familiar with. The feeling of fear.
With a slow turn, Zach faced the street. Their carriage still blocked his view of the other side, so he side-stepped a few times. What he saw froze him in place. Under the awning of the home across from him stood the cold man. He stared straight at Zach with a wide smile. One hand raised to his top hat. He barely lifted it in greeting.
Suddenly, a long carriage zipped by noisily causing Zach to jump. When it passed, the cold man was gone and Zach passed out.
