Chapter 22: KILLING NOAH

Noah snatches the phone from Rose’s hand. She lets out a whine, trying to take it back. He turns his back to her, partly to keep the phone, partly to hide his face. He’s not sure he’ll be able to control the terror in his eyes.

His hand trembles as he scrolls down past the sensationalist headline: NOAH DAVIES HAS KILLED AGAIN. A POSSIBLE SERIAL KILLER? He brings his broken hand to his mouth, as he gasps. There is a photo under the bold letters, and Noah can’t deny his own eyes as he sees a grainy image of himself. Yet again like looking in a mirror, a distorted mirror that reflects the worst possible version of Noah. He seems distracted by something beyond the camera angle, something that only he can see now. His movement is frozen mid air, a step never finished. He’s crossing the street, heading to a building with a lit CLUB sign. This time, he’s not covering his face. His hair is shorter than Noah used to wear it. 

Noah—the one inside Riley’s body— caresses the image. His fingertips brush against the soft screen, barely touching, barely hovering. Maybe some deep part of his mind expected to feel his skin, the fabric of his clothes, his short hair… 

“Riley? Are you okay?” Rose’s voice emerges in the rush on his ears.

Lola.

That was her name. But it’s not the name they’ll write in her grave. Lola is the nickname she used at work, where the killer found her about to finish her night shift. Noah Davies attacked her and carved a daunting signature in her abdomen with a knife, after brutally murdering her. 

Noah tries to stop his imagination from running wild. Her fear. Her will to live fighting to survive, and slowly losing the battle. The shine in her eyes going out like a flame without oxygen, two orbs that see without watching. Her body slacking, no longer moving on her own accord, the fingers falling miserably on the floor. Noah closes his eyes, but the image burns in the inside of his eyelids, in his mind.

His own phone buzzes in his pocket. Noah answers, but he remains silent.

“You saw the news, right? Duncan’s losing his shit. We might need you.” Eve says. Her voice is strained and raspy, as if she’s been arguing for a few hours. “Come to the warehouse.”

She hangs up before Noah responds. 

They get off the elevator. Rose salutes the receptionist with a smile. Noah ignores her, heading for the exit in quick steps. 

“Rose, I’m sorry. I have to go. Will you be okay returning home on your own?”

Rose makes an incredulous little noise, and smiling, she says, “You’re dumping me!” But then, upon seeing Noah’s face, her smile fades. “Of course. Go. I’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” He gives her a quick hug before jogging to the curb, calling for a taxi. 

His hands are trembling, and the pain of his broken hand is worsened by the tension. He pops two Advil pills into his mouth, and chews the bitter pills until the taste overwhelms him. He gives the driver the address and rests his head against the window. 

He needs to find his other half soon. Before anyone else does, or he might lose his opportunity of finding answers for him. And Noah has some idea where to start… if he can get rid of Duncan for a little time. 

The warehouse’s door is wide open, to show a pacing Duncan flailing his arms and muttering indistinct words. Eve is sitting in the hood, eating popcorn from a plastic bowl. As he approaches, Eve signals him to get closer. 

“I’ll kill him. I’ll make him beg.”

Noah hides his hands in the pocket of his jeans. He wonders, maybe for the first time since he met Duncan, why he’s so focused in finding him. Why he so desperately seeks revenge. What he’s avenging. What did Noah do to him? 

Rune is on the back of the garage, sitting in a stool, far from the sunlight. They exchange looks, but Eve leads him to the hood. “If I have to suffer, you also have to.”

Noah nods, swallowing the dry lump in his throat. 

“We’ll find him,” Noah lies. He doesn’t say how.

Duncan barely pays any attention to him in his anger. His knuckles are white, and his tattooed arms are tense, his muscles twitch. 

“We’ll kill him,” Eve promises, and Noah’s breath catches for a second. He looks at Duncan, and he swears his face reflects the terror that stirs deep inside, a hand of darkness reaching out to squeeze his heart and tear open the void. But nobody seems to notice. So he locks it away, shooing the echo of survival that shouts to escape.

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He nods, hoping his voice won’t tremble when he says, “Yeah. We’re together in this. You said so.”

“I said so.” Duncan repeats. 

“How about Solace Pharma?” Eve asks.

“Not much.” 

She acknowledges with a quick nod. “I’m sorry.”

Noah doesn’t respond. Riley’s attack comes second in his anxious thoughts, as guilty as it makes him feel. He must find Noah—the body—. Riley’s already dead, he’s not in a hurry anymore. He promises he’ll find pout what happened to him, and he’ll fulfill it. He’s been living under Riley’s past for months now, following a path of breadcrumbs, putting himself in danger to find answers. It’s time he searches for the truth to his own life. He’s been putting off the task, he’s afraid of what he’ll find. What if he can’t go back once he knows? What if he preferred to remain ignorant?

A weak echo in his mind reminds him of his promise to remember. It’s Riley.

He slides off the hood of the car, heading for the door. “I’m sick. I’m heading home.” He steals a quick glance at Rune. The boy is looking at the stairs at his left. 

Eve pouts, “No. Don’t leave alone. Rune’s like a shadow, and Duncan is too angry to talk to.”

“Sorry.” He makes an apologetic gesture, placing his healthy hand in his forehead.

Noah’s headache is merely a reminder of his feverish dreams, but it’s not something he can’t work with. He has other plans, though. And, for now, the group can’t be involved. He takes another taxi home. Rose has changed into her pajamas, and she’s watching a movie with a moisturizing mask. She offers him a pamper session, but he refuses. The same vicious idea repeats in his head in a cycle, bouncing against his skull and breaking through the sulci of his brain, penetrating in his cortex and tinging his hypothalamus with desire. He’ll try it.

Murderers are usually related to the victims in some form or another. He remembers a girl, her light brown curls resting against her cheek—not brown, her hair was short, and she had bangs, and it was dyed electric blue—, her smile wide and her brown eyes shining with interest. ’29% of serial killers are caught for being related to a victim.’ Noah had raised his eyebrows at that fact, and they had talked for hours about killers, and murder methods, and she had introduced herself as Leo, a psychology student. And he had smiled, ‘I’m Noah. I’m hoping I’ll be in med school in a year.’ She had joked about working together solving crimes. Then, they went back to the library. 

Catching Noah’s body is tracking the person inside. 

While others have surpassed the investigation in favor of finding Noah, Noah knows the key to finding him is investigating his real identity. 

He searches for the CCTV still frame. The background street tingles his brain, and it’s at the tip of his tongue, but he’s unable to find the words. So he breathes deeply, for what he’s about to embark on a journey that may not end well. He’s walking towards the black hole in a tunnel, not really knowing if the tunnel has an exit. 

Noah makes a list of clubs in the city. He searches each one on the map, locating the street and comparing the views to the footage. He’s surprised about the amount there is, and soon the orange sky gives way to the warm artificial light of the room. Rose finishes watching the movie, and gets dressed for a night out. He is barely conscious about her pacing the room, looking for her jewelry, or her handbag, or borrowing a cig off Noah’s packet. He nods when he feels she’s talking to him, but mostly he hums every now and then.

When his broken hand starts aching again, he takes another Advil, and continues his search. 

The clock marks 11:34 pm when he finds it.

The CLUB sign is yellow neon, it’s glow is different to the black and white photo. But upon comparing, Noah sees it. It’s the place. 

The Nyx.

It unsettles him. It feels familiar, in a way that mixes euphoria with terror. 

And Noah knows. He just knows.

He’s been there before.

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