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“Over there.” Tyler pointed to a beat-up red car towards the far edge of the parking lot. Wednesday could almost taste the freedom awaiting her as they passed between two parked cars across from Tyler’s. Then the three boys from the Weathervane stepped into their path, baseball bats clutched in their hands. Wednesday was ready to take them on but Tyler, who had been following behind her, gripped her wrist and pulled.
“Hey. Come on, Wednesday. Wednesday!” He ushered her in front of him, urging her along. “We can lose them in the cro—”
She heard a crack and whirled back around in time to watch Tyler go down like a rock. Behind him, the bully whom she’d kicked in the face at the Weathervane stood in wide-eyed surprise, bat loose in his grip now and staring at the downed boy as if he hadn’t expected to actually land a hit.
“Dude, what the fuck? Did you kill him?!” their leader cried out, clearly panicking, as was their chubby friend. “What’s wrong with you?!”
Their attention was drawn back to Wednesday as she stomped towards them, blinding rage rising inside her. Clearly her intent to maim translated; the boys’ eyes widened and they scrammed like the cowards they were, shouting over each other, leaving her alone with an unconscious Tyler hunched halfway on his front, almost in recovery position, blood streaming down his right temple and cheek.
She hurried to kneel down beside him to find his pulse, which was slightly elevated, then palpating his skull for injuries. Running her fingers through his soft blood-soaked hair, Wednesday grimaced when she felt a slight depression in his right temporal bone, where the blood was originating from a wound above and just to the front of his ear. Her heart was beating a staccato rhythm and she felt almost sick. They were not friends, barely acquaintances, but Tyler was the first person in a very long time to engage with her on her terms, to not react with mistrust or disgust. He had offered to help her escape, refusing any incentive, and had given her the police file on her father just because he thought she should have it. He did not deserve to be hurt, to possibly die, just because he was associating with her.
She looked around frantically, but there was no one near, and between the carnival music and the fireworks, shouting for help would do no good. Wednesday knew that logically she should run for help, find someone to call an ambulance, but the thought of leaving him alone like this felt unbearable, for some reason. Then she grimaced, annoyed at herself. Of course! Call an ambulance; surely Tyler had a phone like every other teenager save her did. She patted down the right pocket of his brown jacket and was relieved to find the contraption on her first try. She managed to turn it on and the screen lit up, demanding a passcode which of course she didn’t know and didn’t have time to figure out. But then she saw the word “Emergency” at the bottom and tapped it. She was just about to dial 911 from the next screen when Tyler groaned.
Immediately she dropped the phone and leaned closer. Her eyes widened as she watched the blood flow from his wound slow down. When she gently touched where the indent in his skull was, she could feel it was less prominent than it had been before, and seemed to restore itself further even as her fingers rested on it.
He whined at her touch.
“Tyler. Can you hear me?”
His eyelids fluttered, and after a few moments he said weakly, his voice slightly slurred, “’s going on? Why’s my head hurt?”
“One of your ‘friends’ hit you with a baseball bat, then they ran off. They were scared they had killed you, probably because of the amount of blood. Head wounds always bleed a lot.”
His eyes fluttered open and he blinked several times, as if to regain focus.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Like I was hit in the head with a baseball bat?” he said after a moment, his eyes finally focusing on her. “Wednesday? How bad is it?” His enunciation had already improved remarkably.
“Not as bad as I’d feared,” she answered. “The bleeding has almost stopped. You seem to heal fast,” she added, keeping a close eye on his reaction.
“I guess? Must’ve gotten lucky that he didn’t hit a more delicate spot.”
Not the slightest tell of a lie or evasion. Interesting.
Wednesday didn’t reply as he started to struggle up onto his elbows, helping him to sit instead. Tyler’s eyes showed no sign of a concussion when he asked how long he’d been out.
“A few minutes, no more.” She maintained her calm facade, but her thoughts were racing. Clearly he had advanced healing abilities, which should not have been possible, not if he was a normie. But what was he, and why wasn’t he a student at Nevermore? Was he pretending to be a normie, or was he unaware of his status? She needed to figure him out, but there was no time to do this now since her time to escape was running out. There was only one way to achieve both her goals.
“Come with me.”
Tyler stopped wiping at the blood on his temple to stare at her. “I... Wednesday, I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I...” He seemed unable to reply, but his face was full of conflicted longing, tears collecting at his lash line. Clearly he wanted to join her quite desperately. He would only need a little little push to convince him.
She leaned closer and looked straight into his eyes. “When you called me, you told me that you wished you could leave too. What is holding you here? Your disapproving father? Your delinquent ‘friends’? Some insipid girlfriend? Your dead end job as a barista? Clearly you are unhappy enough to dream of escaping. Now you can. With me.” On an impulse, she gripped his blood-stained hand with hers. “You won’t be alone. We won’t be alone.”
He looked at their point of contact with wide eyes even as his fingers wrapped around hers, then scrutinized her face. She held his gaze unwaveringly, and whatever he saw finally seemed to overcome his doubts. His expression changed from conflicted, desperate want to determination. “Alright. I’m coming with you.” He squeezed her hand and she grinned triumphantly.
“Good. We can take your car instead of the train, that should throw them off our tracks for a bit. If you need anything from your house, let’s go pick it up while your father is still busy here.”
At his nod, she handed him his phone, then stood and helped him stand before they finally headed to his car.
Freedom and a traveling companion she found herself able to tolerate and who provided a mystery to solve. The future was looking bright for Wednesday Addams.