Chapter 7

"Dude, what the hell?" Tim said, fiercely, backing away from the boy standing in the doorway.
The boy smiled. "Have a seat, Tim, I haven't seen you in ages."
"Erm, yeah..." Tim said, nervously, taking small steps towards the front door. He needed to get out of there, his head crowded with memories, anything was better than this... the meeting!

"I, um, I'm going to a meeting," Tim said, defiantly.
"No, stay! Let's chat. Would you like a drink?" the boy said, cordially.
"Drink?" Tim thought, his head feeling very wary and heavy from the booze he skolled in the car. "Um, cordial please."

Once Tim and the boy were seated, each with a glass of raspberry cordial in their hands, Tim spoke.
"You've been living here? Alone?"
"Yes. Just me and the stray cats who scratch at my door every night," the boy said, waving a hand as if to dismiss those thoughts.
"I'm sorry, little bro," Tim apologised, "I couldn't stay here, you know that."
"To avenge Mum and Dad's deaths?" the boy said, angrily, "You didn't have to! Just because of your freakish nature! Yeah, I've read the papers, I know it all."
Tim glanced at the pile of tattered papers in the corner of the room. He gulped. "I never meant to.."
'What?" the boy said, "Never meant to put me in danger? Police coming here, raiding the house, how do you think I feel?"
"Police? Here?" Tim said, bewildered, "Luke..."
"Well, they came once. Looking for you, I suspect," Luke replied, sighing.
"I'd better go," Tim said, standing up and picking his jacket off the floor in one swift motion.
"Whatever." Luke looked down at his feet, not saying anything.

As Tim headed back out to his car, he waved, just in case his brother was watching from the window. Jumping in the car, Tim drank the remains of the whisky and drove off.

EDIT (am I allowed to add something here? Please?): Once he got to the meeting, Tim reached into the glove department and grabbed the apple pie that he kept in case he was ever lost in the desert and had nothing to eat.
Leaving the manila folder where it lay, Tim got out of the car and briskly walked to the front door.

The door swung open just as Tim got there and a voice said, "I've been expecting you."
Tim walked in the room, holding a steaming hot apple pie in his hands.
"Supper?" the man asked, looking at the pie.
"You wish," Tim said, and aimed the pie right at the man's face. "How do you like them apples?"
Tim quickly hurried away, cautious not to look back. Out of all the ways of killing someone with his capabilities, that was the best.