Kraken by M. Caspian Read Free Book Online Page B

inch. “I guess it hasn’t mattered up till now. Not many people on the island. Certainly not many children. Not any more. Adults know better than to mess around in there. There haven’t been many children since you left. There’s only one now. Ella’s boy Ryan.”
     
    The sick feeling was back, with reinforcements. “Since I what?”
     
    “Left,” said Cyrus. “One day you left, and you never came back.”
     
    Will stared at him. Had everyone gone mad but him? “I’m sorry, what?”
     
    “Just that. You used to live here. I knew you. We knew each other. You left. Now you’ve come home.”
     
    The strains of the last week suddenly seemed too much. Controlled Will, Will who never let anything surprise him or get under his collar, took a momentary vacation. “Stop fucking saying that!” he screamed. “People keep saying they know me! I’ve never been here! You do not recognize me! I do not have a familiar face!”
     
    Will’s voice reverberated around the ruins, frightening a bluejay from its roost and shaking loose a cascade of detritus from a window sconce high above. The dust settled on Will’s shoulders, along with layers of embarrassment. Silence slunk back in.
     
    Cyrus laughed hollowly. “I knew you the second I saw you, Will. I’ve been waiting sixteen years for you to find your way back to me.”
     
    “Look, that is creepy as fuck. You. Do. Not. Know. Me. I had never seen you before last night.”
     
    Cyrus snorted, reaching out an arm and pulling Will against him, wrapping him tight against his body. “It’s all okay. The island will come back to you, now that you’ve come back to the island.
     
    Will pushed against Cyrus’s chest, stumbling away. “Cyrus, I’m here because I was a fucking idiot, all right? Because I felt upset that my boyfriend effectively dumped me, then humiliated that he hooked up with some woman within a week of dumping me, and I took off into the forest in the middle of the night. Me being here is a loathsome, excruciating, nauseating accident, that I will do everything I can to forget.”
     
    Cyrus just looked at him. “Soon you’ll realize you being here is no accident.”
     
    Cyrus started walking again. Will sagged against the wall, all energy evaporated with his outburst. He was at a loss for what to do. He knew no-one; there was no-where to go. There seemed no other option but to follow Cyrus in mortification.
     
    They clambered over a boat ramp with rails heading down into dirty water, glistening with a sheen of diesel fuel. Inside the boat shed someone was welding, while a radio played a tinny pop song about card games. Soon they were walking past a long, low house now, ranch style, built right up against the shingle. The yard was strewn with refuse. A broken acrylic chair leaned awkwardly against the faded siding, and an uncoiled hose snaked through the thick weeds.
     
    “Fuck, that’s ugly,” The words escaped Will without conscious thought. He was still cringing at his outburst, and full of annoyance with Cyrus for his ludicrous insistence that he knew Will.
     
    Cyrus seemed determined to forget Will’s words. “Tell me about it. When Mr. Falconer talks about opening up the island, this is what he means. More people doing this. The 21st century is staggeringly unappealing.”
     
    Cy pointed to the left, where a tiny path of dry red clay whispered into the woods. The steep grade worked upwards in switchbacks, and the hot sun burned the back of Will’s neck. The trees and dust bored him. What did people do all day with nothing but nature to look at? Words burst from him, desperate for diversion.
     
    “So . . . did you grow up on the island.”
     
    “Yep.”
     
    “Are you parents still here?”
     
    “No. They died a long time ago.”
     
    “I’m sorry.”
     
    “Don’t be. It happens.”
     
    “Do you mind if I ask how?”
     
    “You know that’s about the most upsetting thing you can ask someone who lost a loved one,