Hello, Goodbye
Posted on Tue Oct 7th, 2025 @ 10:17 by Mhairi McIntyre & Cameron Johnston & Ji-an Yun
Chapter:
Besieged
Location: Necropolis, Glasgow
2058 words - 4.1 OF Standard Post Measure
It was a miserable night for a cemetery tour.
Though the rain had let-up, there was still a general dreariness to the saturation left behind that gave the world a soggy melancholy. The imposition of fading daylight had increased the amount of artificial illumination from streetlights and storefronts, and the roaming headlights of the persistent traffic danced merry in the descending fog. Puddles distorted their reflections, imperfect mirrors streaked with elongated light disturbed by the splash of footfall, and those huddled beneath their umbrellas out of habit now more than necessity paid very little attention to anything peripheral to their intended goal. As Glasgow sank into twilight, it took with it a sense of resigned fortitude. It was an unremarkable evening for most.
Atop his cement column, Reverend John Knox seemed unperplexed by the weather, and equally as ambivalent to the solitary pigeon perched on the base of the monument. It had been five minutes since the small group and their long-suffering volunteer guide had moved on, so the bird's singular hope for an early evening's meal rested with the lingering remains. The pair hadn't really joined the tour, which seemed private in nature and possibly not immediately welcoming of societal dregs, but there had been an intent, more or less, to stay within eyeshot. Given the location and impending atmosphere, a desire for company wasn't unreasonable, but care had been taken to stop once in a while and at least appear to be interested in the neatly arranged tombstones.
The smallest of the two, currently occupied by tapping her red rainboot on the surface of one of the deeper puddles, was indistinguishable beneath her over-sized mackintosh and long scarf, but the man beside her, by dint of having chosen a denim jacket several sizes too small, managed no such obscurity. It also didn't help that he was apparently struggling to stand still, as if bouncing on the balls of his feet with his hands wedged firmly into his armpits could convince the rest of him it wasn't that cold.
It wasn't the only reason for his impatience.
"There is nobody following her."
The declaration from inside the raincoat showed signs of weariness.
"Not that we've noticed yet, no."
"If they are a mutant, you could watch all night and still not see them." A tween's logic was not to be trifled with.
"We said we'd wait here for her, it's up to Mhairi how long that takes."
The raincoat murmured something indiscernible.
Cameron shot his young charge a look that failed to choose between annoyance and affection. "Hey, little less of the attitude, Angie-pangie." Compassion arrived a moment later and the dishevelled man stopped his surveillance long enough to crouch in front of his companion and give both her hands a squeeze. "I know you don't feel safe," he said quietly. "I promise, we're getting out of here as soon as we can."
There was nothing the man giving the tour could say that would land with Mhairi as she walked with the group around the supposedly interesting bits of history related to the building. Her eyes drifted towards the two rather conspicuously dressed people that seemed to be shadowing the group. She had clocked Cameron already, and would definitely have to ask about his choice of attire. She just hoped he had taken the opportunity to make sure she wasn't being tailed.
The tour rounded a corner, Mhairi lagged behind a bit. Then peeled away, pretending to be engrossed in her tour map. Looking up, then around, then at her map again. Slowly strolling across the hall and towards where Cam and his young companion were waiting. "John Deere, I presume?" She folded the map and slapped him across the face with it. "How fucking dare ye!" Then threw her arms around him and held on tight.
Though always slightly tapered, Cameron typically maintained an athletic build by sheer dint of his work coupled with the rigours of moving at top speed. There was a frailty to him now that didn't quite add up, a loss of muscle tone that only would have made sense had he been missing for weeks. There was strength enough to his grip, however, which abandoned the concern over prying eyes for long enough to indulge in the tulmult of grief, relief and bone-aching remorse.
"I'm sorry, Mhair'."
They were words that didn't often make it past an awkward attempt to express them through action. Cameron relied a little too heavily on his boyish charm, ostensibly because it usually worked, but there was definite room for growth when it came to the simple importance of speaking directly from the heart. His tone, murmured at a volume that delivered the words directly to Mhairi's ear, radiated with the defeat of someone who had already replayed a thousand regrets.
"I'm so fucking sorry."
He was crying. There was no accounting for the inexplicable emergence of that impossibility because here was a man with whom misery did not hold a very successful track record. Previous estimates might have pegged 'the ends of the world' to be the distance one would have to travel before they saw a glimpse of Cameron Johnston buckling under the weight of his own emotions. This wasn't, even under current circumstances, a completely incorrect supposition.
Another punch, this time as a closed fist against his chest. Mhairi was sobbing. "Don't ever do that again!" She didn't dare pull back, scared that he might not be there when she looked more closely. Afraid that it was just an illusion, or worse, a scam. She turned her head, leaning an ear against his chest. "This must be the girl you died protecting."
Benefit of the doubt, not to mention a healthy lack of energy to have the ensuing argument, permitted Cameron to accept he had probably just imagined the slight vitriol in the woman's tone. By now, he knew Mhairi well enough to know that he was the one she was furious with, and that if there was any hope of mitigating that at all, it was because of Ji-an. Dying was unacceptable but saving a kid in the process put a few spanners in any protest. He turned them both towards the solemn features quietly cataloguing their exchange and reached out to give the rim of her plastic hood an affectionate flick as the arm around Mhairi's shoulders twitched slightly.
"This is Ji-an, though she's currently moonlighting as a rubber ducky."
As much as everything about the child seemed compressed into the tiniest sliver of space possible, she did come up to about Mhairi's shoulder. Docile features, currently pink from the cold, carried the cultural tenacity for appearing younger than they actually were but, at best guess, she seemed roughly in the vicinity of about 12 or 13. It would take a bit of explaining to point out why that was a little...well, weird.
A gaze that was disconcertingly older than felt natural studied the new arrival's face.
"You were not followed. That is probably important to point out."
There was the tiniest hint of attitude behind the observation.
Mhairi lifted her head to look at Ji-an, "I made sure not to draw attention on the way over." It had taken every fibre in her being to not floor it to Glasgow. She didn't want to be pulled over though. There was no explaining her particular predicament to any officer. "We should probably get back to New Cresthill." She was still holding on to Cameron, not sure if there would be a moment today that she'd be willing to let go. She looked him in the eyes and wondered for a moment if something was different about them. About him. She shook it off. Who wouldn't start to doubt everything they knew to be real when the person that was supposed to be dead suddenly rang you up telling you they were in Glasgow.
Very slowly, the young girl's gaze averted to stare at the puddle beneath her boots. The tap of a toe sent ripples across its surface, disrupting her reflection. She nodded, her solemn gaze once more meeting the frazzled woman's.
"Yes, we need to go."
"I would have called earlier."
The quiet offering pierced the tense silence, as much a product of the need to give Mhairi room to maneuver through unfamiliar streets in the damp fog as out of a genuine lack of knowing where to start. In the backseat, Ji-an had already laid down, hands tucked in prayer beneath her cheek. Cameron wasn't convinced she was asleep, though the girl's eyes were closed, but he appreciated the mockery for what it was; an attempt not to intrude.
The trouble was, he didn't really know what to make of the opportunity to explain. His own understanding was riddled with inconsistencies, stalled in places by the resignation of a need to keep moving forward rather than dwell on matters that didn't directly impact their present needs. As the blast of the car's heater coaxed some feeling back into his hands, Cameron stared out the windscreen at the sodden street and tried to bury his shame.
"We...took a while to get to Glasgow. I wasn't in great shape for a bit, and Squeaky back there hasn't ever been outside of Avalon, at least on this side of the world."
It had taken some time to settle her nerves and focusing on the road ahead. Darkness dotted with fireflies reflecting the headlights. Mhairi shot a glance over her shoulder, "I'm sure any explanation you could possibly give me would be beyond my comprehension to understand." Her eyes back on the road. "I'm just glad to have you in the seat next to me." She looked at Cameron. "Things are tense in Avalon, in the entire town really. Especially since the statement came out regarding your injuries." She shook her head. "Why would someone do that? Why would they want to infiltrate a school? Something has to be properly wrong in your head to think 'you know what would be a good idea? Sending a spy into a middle school with gifted individuals. Surely nothing can go wrong'." She realised she was rambling. "Sorry." her hands tightened around the wheel.
For once, there was no argument from Cameron. He'd lived the experience, by several loose definitions of the term at least, and he still didn't understand any of it. The only thing that was clear was that the kid in the backseat was a big deal, and that some rearrangement of his internal organs had been involved in the sudden emergence of a teenager where a tiny sprocket had once been. The crane of his head followed Mhairi's gaze and then, with a huff of wry humour, Cameron turned his thoughts back to the road ahead.
"She'd pretty adamant we need to get back."
His volume was kept low, as parents were wont to attempt when trying to hold conversations they were trying to keep the kids from overhearing. In this instance, the caution was less about scaring Ji-an than it was about disturbing her with expectations of clarification. She'd told him her reasons, several times; he just didn't understand any of it.
"Apparently it's a whole heap worse if we don't."
His eyes met Mhairi's.
"Don't ask. Doc Brown's got nothing on this kid."
Mhairi sucked in her lips. "The amount of things I shouldn't ask..." A deep breath in through her nose. "It's a long ride, so better get comfortable." Three hours of roads through the highlands, it was a good thing she was being fuelled with caffeine, questions, and adrenalin. "So what do we do when we get there? You can't get back into Avalon."
"We're not going back to Avalon."
The voice from the backseat confirmed earlier suspicions, though another glance backwards revealed no change in the pre-teen's position. Cameron swung his gaze back around to meet Mhairi's, the paternal suffering of I told you so.
"Not yet, anyway."
Ji-an's eyes opened briefly.
"Keep going, we still have a way to go."
A pair of raised eyebrows joined Cameron's expression, along with the hunch of defeated shoulders.
"You heard the boss."
