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The Old Brand-New: Lena lives in a lonely mansion, but one snowy night, a vengeful clone of herself comes to make her pay for the life she never got to live.

 

Chapter 6

“Life has too many middles and too many ends.”

Dan locked his back against the wall. He caught the ceiling in his gaze, reading the small hairline cracks in its surface. Something scratched in the distance—a scuttling of tiny feet. But he didn’t see anything. Rats, most likely. Hideous little things—he’d gotten used to killing the ones he found in his house, but he wasn’t sure he had the stomach to start eating them. Not yet. He peered over to the other corner, where Andrew had laid down with his arms behind his head.

“Think the water’s safe?” Dan said.

“It’s running through the ground,” Andrew replied. “Nature’s filter.”

“That works? I’m not up-to-date on survival business.” Dan took a deep breath. The old salt from his tears stung his cheeks, turned them red. “We’re so lucky.”

“We’re idiots.”

The men faded to silence again. With each moment of quiet, Dan’s mind took him back to the white in the sky. The circles that burned. Back to Mother’s cackle. He didn’t know why that stuck with him—she wasn’t some forest-hag with moldy teeth. She had a sweet face, actually. If a bit wrinkled. He hadn’t inherited a smidge of that sweetness, only the wrinkles. Everything else was Father’s. And most people had to force themselves to look at Father.

Dan groped his temples. The tunnel had trapped him in a maze of himself. No, he wouldn’t have that. He scanned Andrew once more. Mother had taught Dan to recognize quality when he saw it. The fabric on Andrew’s suit shone, wrinkling only in the right places. Hand-stitched tailoring, perfect manufacture. Nothing less than ten-thousand marks. Dan couldn’t hold himself back anymore—he had so much to ask, and no reason not to.

“You’ve got a job?” Dan said.

“Oh,” Andrew said. “Yes, yes, I do. I’m a partner at a firm. Financial advice, investment, the lot.” With that, Andrew sat up. “More of a passion-project at this point, but you keep yourself busy, I suppose. Otherwise, you just sit there. We’re called Phillips and Moriarty, if you’ve heard of it. We’re a growing business—well…”

Andrew looked down at his hands.

“I’m a CPA,” Dan said. “At Gretcheldson and Smarg, down in Loxley. Not a big company, but I’ve been there over twenty years.” He chuckled. “Seems like every company’s a ‘guy and other guy’ type these days.”

Andrew smiled.

Dan waited for the conversation to continue. He waited a long time, until his eyelids turned to lead. But he couldn’t let himself fall asleep. God only knew the dreams that would come.

“Got any family?” he asked. His eyes widened as he realized his mistake. “Oh—you don’t have to answer that.”

“No, it’s alright,” Andrew said, his shoulders sinking back to the wall. “I’m married. No children yet though.” His eyes fell. “Maybe in a few years.”

“Sir, I’m not—I didn’t mean anything,” Dan said.

Andrew’s gaze darkened, the lines in his face growing deep. Dan’s smile broke at the corners. If he pushed too hard—well, Andrew was a wine glass, and Dan was a sledgehammer.

“I’m not great at this,” Dan said after a minute of watching the other man sit. “I’m sorry.”

Andrew remained silent.

“It’s odd, right?” Dan continued. “It’s ten o’clock. Been here for hours, and it’s like seconds and years all at once.” He looked off to the side.

Andrew glanced at Dan again. Once again, he didn’t say anything. His eyes were glazed and heavy.

“Did you have anybody?” Andrew asked after a long pause.

“No—I don’t know, a few friends. My mum. That’s all.”

The financier rolled over to face the wall. “Would you mind if I stuck around?”

“I’d like that.”

Andrew seemed to relax.

“Thanks.”