I slid the door to the warehouse closed then threw my coat off. The girl was leaning against a wall, her chest heaving from the sprint. Her duffle bag slipped from her arm, falling heavily to the bare concrete. No wonder she was so tired. What did she have in there? 'You right?' The girl looked at me with brilliant blue eyes beneath a frazzled blunt auburn fringe. She nodded jerkily.
'Look at you, Zach, bringing a girl home. Time flies so quickly.' Malcolm descended the stairs with a lop-sided, sarcastic grin on his mug.
I pegged the bundle of keys at him. 'Shut yer trap, Mal.' Would he believe what I saw? 'Give us a bit'a space.'
He chuckled and threw his hands up in the air. 'No going past second base, mate!' I scowled at him as he went back up the stairs. Black-haired git.
'Wanna cuppa or anything?' I asked, picking up the girl's bag.
'Yes, please.' Her voice sounded far away. Probably still in shock.
'Take a seat, get comfy, and it'll be done in a sec.' I put her bag next to an old couch. Yeah, it had a few bare threads here and there, but at least it was comfortable. She gave the couch a quizzical look. 'It's safe. There's no gigantic roach monster in there.' At least she still had some of her wits about her.
The kitchen area--at least that's what we called it--was just a mishmash of shelves, cupboards, draws, slats on bricks, an old stove and a dinky sink. The water from it tasted of iron, but you got used to it. Dishes and pots clattered around in a cupboard as I rifled through it for the old teapot we used. 'Alright, mate?' Mal called before leaping from the rails of the second level. We'd been able to do crazy stunts like that since that day.
'Just making a cuppa.' I didn't want to put up with his crap. 'You want one, too?' I didn't bother looking at him.
'Nah, I'm good. Hey, that girl, what's her name, then?' I shoved the kettle on the stove and lit the gas. 'Might wanna put some water in that, bro.' I grunted. I filled up the kettle and put it back on the element, watching the flame carefully. It looked like there were things inside the flame. Yeah, it'd been a long day. Bug men and fire pictures. 'You're a talkative fellow today, aren't you? She get you in a sensitive spot or something?'
'Mal, whaddaya want?' Earl grey? Irish breakfast? They were the only two teas we had.
'That book,' he said in a more serious tone that made me stop for a moment. 'Did you want to look at it?'
'What's in it?' Earl grey it was.
He scoffed. 'This'll sound insane, but it's like a journal.' A man like Ralph kept a journal? 'Some parts of it look ancient, some parts look like they were written last week. It looks like Ralph had been writing in it. It says he was given the book by some German guy.'
'Sounds like a rippin' read,' I said sarcastically as I took the whistling kettle off the stove.
'That's a no, then? I'll hold on to it.' He began to shuffle off.
'Why hold on to it? Just chuck it out.' I turned to him, holding the tea cup.
'Have a little faith, Zach,' he said over his shoulder.
'Faith in what?'
'History.'