The Wild Beasts of Anthony Mannis

Project Warcry was enacted in CA175 as treatment for PTSD. Over 2,000 CDF soldiers volunteered. Due to unforeseeable circumstances, the experiment [REDACTED]. Because of this, Elite Spectre Men and hotshots have become integral, irreplaceable parts of the CDF.

- Information Available for Borges Citizens, Pamphlet X

“I’m hungry,” complained Anthony, as they trudged down the dirt road between Melville and Lagulina.

Philip sighed. “Are you kidding me? You just ate. We had breakfast fifteen minutes ago. I don’t know why we just didn’t wait until we got to Lagulina, I can see the city from here…”

“Well, we left Melville in such a hurry yesterday we didn’t even grab road snacks. I woke up in that weird house and you guys were packing to leave already.”

“We were leaving in such a hurry because we had just broken out of jail. And that’s why we gave you mostly all the food this morning. Recompense.”

“Yea, how are you even hungry?” Hayley said, “barely left us anything.” Her stomach rumbled.

“Hey man, invoking takes brainpower and the brain needs fuel! It’s scientifically proven that invokers require more, uh, caloric energy than…regular folk.”

Philip raised an eyebrow, the scholarly side of him irked at the flippant use of the term scientific. “Oh is it? Is it scientifically proven? Data empirically collected through the scientific method? Or are you just being hyperbolic?”

“Yea man, it’s scientific,” Anthony said sarcastically, “I’m an invoker, I ate more than everyone, and I’m still hungry. Sample size of one. You dweeb.”

Hayley screeched with laughter. Philip’s ears turned red. Anthony clapped him on the back. “Don’t geek out about it man, I’m just messin’ with ya. Here.”

A huge gold and purple butterfly poofed into existence in front of Philip’s face; startled, he stumbled backwards and tripped. Before he could hit the ground, a plump, anthropomorphized mushroom sprouted underneath, and Philip sat on it abruptly. Hayley laughed even louder, a raucous, bird-like squawking. Anthony winced at the sound, but laughed as well. He helped Philip back up. “Upsy-daisy, you Serious Sam. Come on, let’s go scrounge up some food.”

“Oh I’ll take him,” Hayley swooped in, cooing. “I think he’s had enough of your little invoking pranks for now. You know he doesn’t like butterflies.”

“They can’t be trusted,” Philip mumbled.

“We’ll go get something for a second breakfast. You get off the road and make us a fire, okay Ant?”

“You got it, Haystack!” Anthony winked at her, and set off picking up sticks. He was sweating from exertion, though it was still early morning and the sun was not yet at its peak. That butterfly took a lot out of me, he thought. Powers must be waning. I guess it’s only a matter of time before they’re fully gone. Wish I could test it by summoning a colossus. I wonder how Munroe is doing…

#

A brace of rabbits slung over her shoulder, Hayley swaggered back down the road followed by Philip, his face a pasty green. Anthony waved at them, a small smoking fire sputtering next to him.

“What’s going on, guys? Philip you look awful.”

“Don’t mind him, he’s never hunted before,” Hayley said, dropping the rabbits down beside him. “I got some cute little bunnies for ya.”

She unstrapped the ranger hunting knife from around her thigh and began to field dress one of the rabbits. Philip made a gurgling sound with his throat.

“She broke its neck like it was a carrot stick,” he said dazedly. Hayley stuck her hand in the rabbit and pulled out the insides.

“You’ll be a tougher man for it, quit your whining,” she grumped, “hey Anthony, what are you eating?” she gestured with her bloody knife at the boy invoker, who was chewing on something happily.

“Oh these? These mushrooms I found nearby. Kinda gummy, but pretty good tasting. Want one?” he held out a handful of flat, red-capped mushrooms.

Hayley’s knife fell clattering to the ground, her eyes widening. She rushed to his side, shaking him.

“Are you insane? You’re eating mushrooms you just found? What kind of Forester are you? Where did you get those?”

“They’re growing all over the place, why?”

“These mushrooms are called sightseers, they’re an extremely strong psychedelic. The Tzolkhan natives in North Forest Zone eat them before they go hunting because they increase mental processes and give a huge hit of adrenaline. They usually have a quarter of one. You damn woodsy, how many did you eat?”

Anthony chewed thoughtfully. “Like, five? What’s the problem?”

“We need a doctor now,” Hayley said, “Anthony, try and throw them back up. The overdose is going to give you a seizure if you don’t do something about it quickly.”

Anthony nodded, not as panickedly as Hayley would have liked, and stuck his fingers down his throat. A green and purple slime monster formed behind him, bubbly and groaning as it came into existence. It increasing in height steadily, sprouting two arms, then four, then six.

Philip, intrigued, pushed his glasses up his nose. “Interesting. I wonder how the sightseers will affect his invoking powers.”

Hayley snorted as she tightened her straw jacket around her. “You can stick around and find out. I’m heading to Lagulina to get a doctor, I can move way faster if it’s just me. I’ll be back in a half-hour or so, make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid, okay? He mustn’t run or jump or move. We don’t want any unnecessary heart rate activity.”

She bolted like an arrow from a bow, not waiting for an answer. Her boots left light footprints in the dirt, her jacket flapped about her like a golden flag.

“Philip,” Anthony said, “I can feel…them…”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re in my head…I can feel them bouncing around…they want to get out…” Anthony was turning a flushed red. Philip grabbed his wrist to feel his pulse—it was a quick staccato. Behind them, the slime monster pulsated in time with Anthony’s heart, changing colors and size frequently.

“Take it easy Anthony, it’s going to be okay. Let’s get the sightseers out of your system.”

He helped lean Anthony over, who was blinking constantly and breathing rapidly. As if I know how to fix this. Crap! Hayley took off, too. I didn’t even try to stop her.

He patted Anthony gently on the back. “Easy buddy, easy…think…calming thoughts…” Philip frowned.

“It’s too late.” Anthony let out a deep breath, and unleashed his mind.

Monsters sprang up all around them. Translucent goblins, giant lizardmen, golden guardians roared to life. The slime monster grew, spewing cytoplasm in all directions as a giant many-eyed silver dragon burst out of it, shedding the slimy skin. It growled loudly as it flexed, its front two limbs giant bladed wings.

“I have so much power,” Anthony murmured, staring blankly into outer space, “I could make them so much bigger…”

The dragon began to grow larger and larger, nearing colossus level. It let out a whinny that shot out an inky cloud. The tops of the trees touched by the ink shriveled and died.

“Anthony, don’t!” shouted Philip, grabbing uselessly at him.

Humanoid cat-creatures appeared, purring softly before popping out of existence.

“I can’t stop,” Anthony remarked, in a voice not his own, “ideas and thoughts and creations and life swirl and mash in my mind, forever expanding, pressing against my brain. I must imagine. I must create, or else I will explode.”

The dragon grew in size, its many eyes blinking in all directions. It flexed its wings and the bladed ridges cut off the tops of some pine trees. The falling debris crushed a few lizardmen. Anthony was laughing unperturbed, a white fire burning in his eyes and an ethereal heat surrounding him. Two bright blue berserkers sprang up, wielding giant claymores. With a hearty laugh, they swung at the nearest tree, hacking away at it as if it were a training dummy. The dragon roared.

A lump formed in Philip’s throat. I hope Hayley gets here soon.

#

“Doctor!” Hayley shouted, bursting through the apothecary doors. Its wizened patrons stared at her while she gasped for breath in the doorway. “I need a doctor now!”

A white-haired man with round-rimmed glasses and a patched sports coat stood up, a pattern of rabbits dotting the bow tie knotted at his throat. Hayley held out a handful of the red-capped mushrooms.

“Where is he?” the doctor asked kindly, prepping his medical bag which, Hayley noticed, had a giant rabbit stitched onto it as well.

They sped down the road in the doctor’s carriage, bouncing along on the dirt road as the horses drew them at a fretful pace.

“He’s right over that way—oh dear…” Hayley’s voice trailed off as she pointed at their campsite.

A two-headed obsidian colossus stood out like a sore thumb off in the distance, towering above the trees and sending birds fluttering whenever it moved. It idly swung at the silvery-blue dragon flying above it, both bellowing challenges to each other. Felled and infected trees surrounded them like moldy toothpicks, with more falling every time the dragon breathed ink.

The doctor whistled. “No kidding. An invoker, eh? And a mighty strong one, too—it appears he has oversummoned. Two colossi simultaneously, including a dragon. I doubt even Violet in her prime could have done that, and she was a three-drop invoker. You know, I haven’t seen me a colossus in decades, partly because of the ban, but mostly because there just haven’t been any powerful invokers in a while. Sure we got some crony kids in town, but they’re one-drops arcing down so the Borges don’t even bother with them. That’s some good summoning though we got ahead of us…this reminds me of an old story about Hector the First…”

“Doc,” Hayley said nervously as the carriage veered dangerously to the edge of the road, “can you focus on the road please?”

Hayley didn’t even wait for the carriage to stop before she jumped out, hitting the ground running. Anthony was propped up against a tree, eyes rolling, perspiring profusely, and shivering. Philip dabbed at his forehead with a sweat-soaked towel.

“How’s he doing?” Hayley asked, crouching down next to them and brushing Anthony’s clammy hair back from his forehead.

“Not so good,” Philip gestured at the colossus above them.

Hayley stood up, all business. “This is Doctor Jean,” she said, beckoning to the man who had just finished tying up the horses and was currently chuffing towards them.

“How do you do,” Doctor Jean said, “don’t you worry about him. Many a hungry traveler eats the sightseers, some by accident, others recreationally. We should really put signs up. Don’t you kids know not to eat stuff you just find on the ground? Foresters these days, I mean really…I’m sure you guys would eat coral berries because they look like chocolate cherries! My goodness…This one time—”

“Doc!” Hayley said impatiently.

“Ah yes, my dear. Of course…bad habit of mine.” Doctor Jean smiled aloofly and rummaged in his kit for some tonics. He shone a light into Anthony’s eyes.

“Hmmm…heavily dilated. More than usual. Abnormally fast response time. Increased blood flow to the brain. We must bring it down soon or a vein will burst.”

“I thought you said we had nothing to worry about,” Philip snapped.

“Yes, yes. Do not fear, I can stop the symptoms early so things cannot possibly get any worse.”

“Doc! Philip! Look alive!” cried Hayley. She pointed to the road.

In formation, clad in all-white full-body armor, was a squadron of Spectre Men and two regulations of Citadel Defense Force officers. Attack skydrones hung in the air soullessly. Two officers were mounted in stalkers and the rest stood at attention in full riot gear. A battlewagon door swung open and an immaculate black boot hit the ground—the commanding officer that emerged was dressed in all black body armor and had a distinctly cracked full-face helmet.

“Squad 421, maintain order here by any means necessary; do not underestimate the children. Squad 151, prepare to fire on the colossi on my command,” Officer Raffick said, a grin visible through the crack in his visor. “How do you do, doctor.”

“This is an outrage.” Doctor Jean stood up indignantly, “Officer, as a doctor I implore you to hold until I can stabilize this boy’s condition! If you fire on his invocations while he is in this hallucinatory state you will sever the mental link, causing near-irreparable brain damage!”

“That is precisely why I plan to do it,” Raffick said thinly. “Doctor, I order you to stand down under penalty of Insubordination Towards an Officer of the Law, Obstruction of Justice, and Aiding an Enemy of the Citadel.”

“You have no jurisdiction here.” Doctor Jean said hotly, “I see only CDF officers. You can make no legal arrest here on those grounds without the consent of Lagulina PSOs. Food poisoning is not a crime—and I do not see a warrant.”

“No kiddin’! You think he’s right, Quinnie?” mumbled one of the officers to another, who shrugged.

“I’ll mail you one,” Officer Raffick sneered. He moved closer to Doctor Jean, towering over him, and tried to stare him down.

It didn’t work. Doctor Jean, old and pudgy as he was, matched his gaze. “Do not talk to me in such a manner, officer. I am no backwards country bumpkin, easily intimidated by shiny armor. I am a Borges doctor of the Prelate district of Cirk Malpy, I know my rights as a Borges citizen, and you will treat me as such. You will give me time to tend to this boy.”

Raffick didn’t move but everyone saw him falter.

“You aid an enemy of the state,” he finally said.

“He is a thirteen-year-old child,” Doctor Jean answered, turning to Anthony, “this is hardly a matter of national security. Do your homework next time.”

Anthony’s dragon purred overhead. Hayley noticed that one of the Spectre Men of 151 was the brutish, hulking one she had fought in the rain when she had first met Anthony and Philip, the one with a winged skull etched onto his chestplate. He was looking right at her.

Raffick tapped his baton against his thigh, then turned to his men. “Doctor Jean is correct. We cannot arrest him at this moment—”

Philip breathed a sigh of relief.

“—But we do have the right to shoot invocations on sight,” he finished. “Squads! Guns ready! Aim at the cruiser.”

“Are you out of your mind!” Doctor Jean shouted in disbelief, “This child is under the effects of the sightseer mushroom—pure unfiltered Timesink. You’ll fry his brain if you hit his monsters. As if invoking didn’t beat up their minds already!”

“I am aware of the possible consequences,” Raffick replied.

“These kids end up battered and broken by the time they’re eighteen. Half the time they’ll be homeless as well.”

“Hold your tongue, doctor—”

“Tell me, what do you do with your SSI once they cannot invoke anymore? Where is Violet? Where is the darling of the Borges Special Service?”

Raffick put his baton on Doctor Jean’s shoulder. “That is enough out of you.”

“Are you going to hit me, officer? I do not think the assault of a Prelate doctor would reflect well upon you—”

“FIRE!” Raffick roared.

#

Eight guns cocked and charged, pointed at the silver, multi-eyed dragon perched in the tree. Bolts of jagged energy CRACKED towards the invocation with pinpoint accuracy. The dragon roared in pain and flew upwards, breaking the damaging link of energy as it moved off-line of the streams.

“Sir, it can fly!” said one of the Spectre Men. The dragon was batting the skydrones down, hunting them as a hawk hunts sparrows. It breathed its cloud of inky death on a skydrone, disintegrating the machine.

“The dragon can decay!” shouted another Spectre Man, “repeat, the dragon can decay! Do not let it breathe on you!”

“There’s more than one colossus!” a panicked CDF officer screamed over the radio. Squad 421 was blindsided by the obsidian colossus. Its two heads were painted for war, one a skeletal image of death and the other a red mask of terror; it was the entire vanguard as it drove through them like bowling pins. Behind it, the blue berserkers, lizardmen, and cat warriors—also grotesquely adorned and painted for battle—disabled the dazed officers before they could recover.

“Doctor! Get Anthony and Philip to a safe distance!” Hayley bellowed, launching herself at Raffick, who had to turn to face her. When she finally sprang away, Doctor Jean and the others were gone, and Raffick saw his men were losing the fight.

Raffick swore. Multiple colossi; how is this boy so strong? Eight railgun blasts should have reduced his cruiser to ash. We ranked him as a one-drop, yet a three-tier ranking does this no justice…

He slammed his fist against the battlewagon in exasperation, leaving a dent. He primed his railgun and fired it at the dragon. For all the good it’s doing. Why isn’t it working? This would have been overkill on Violet herself. Is it the Timesink?

“Quite the effective invoker he is,” remarked Doctor Jean of Anthony, who was emanating a gold and white glow. They were nestled behind a hill, close by his carriage. “Multiple simultaneous invocations. Two colossi. He’d make an interesting case study.”

“Just fix him, doc,” Philip said worriedly. “ Though I gotta be honest, it sounds like you want to turn us in as well. If not for the bounty, then for the science.”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Doctor Jean said distractedly, watching a blow from Anthony’s beast-berserker send a Spectre Man flying into a tree, “as a man of science, it is true I am curious as to the inner workings of an invoker’s mind; but as a human, I do not believe there is an ethical way to study it. Some things are better left alone.”

The other berserker cleaved a leg off of a stalker, and the contraption collapsed with a loud crash. The berserker brothers roared and butted heads with each other in a triumphant, fraternal manner. Hayley, having chose to fight instead of hide, danced around CDF agents as if the whole thing were a game.

“Hey Raffick,” she mocked, smashing in the helmet of an officer who tried to grab her, “you and me, baby. Let’s go another round. I’ll break your arms.”

“No,” Doctor Jean ran to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “no more destruction than is necessary.”

Hayley stopped and looked around at the crippled, unconscious CDF officers. For a split-second, a flashback of her in the safe-room surrounded by The Jester’s abandoned, dying men crossed her mind. She shuddered and let out a deep breath shakily. The fire went out of her eyes.

“Officer,” Doctor Jean shouted up, “call back your men. Gather your wounded and take them to the hospital.”

He turned to Anthony, who stood entranced, his mind in a million places. Doctor Jean whispered something in his ear while rubbing a balm on his forehead, and the invocations relaxed and stood at attention.

Officer Raffick seethed with fury. So close. The two stalkers he had been assigned lay crumpled on the ground, like crushed metal spiders. He had used all his railgun cartridges and emptied his (new) sidearm on the visibly undamaged silver dragon, which was staring at him hungrily with all its eyes. He looked to the energetic berserker beasts, lizardmen, and cat warriors. He looked to his battered squadrons— many of his men had been injured in some way; even the hulking Spectre Man Ninars was holding his knee, which was pointed at a funny angle.

One of his soldiers shook her head at him. “You’re the boss, Raff,” she said, clutching her shoulder, “we’ll follow your orders.”

“Thank you, Quinn,” he smiled grimly. Of course she would say something like that. “Would you help Ninars to the truck. We will be leaving.

“Do not be so surprised,” he said to the shocked-looking Philip and Hayley, “Luck was on your side today.”

They watched the CDF forces drive away, leaving behind the skeletons of the skydrones, stalkers, and busted trucks.

“He is right, you know,” Doctor Jean said, “you were very fortunate to have a gifted invoker that could overpower two full Spectre Squadrons.”

Hayley kicked at the ground mournfully. “We had him. Why’d you stop me, Doc? We could have ended it so that he would never hunt us again.”

“Violence cannot drive out violence, my child,” Doctor Jean said, watching Raffick drive off, “and I am not so sure you should fear this man as much as pity him.”

“Pity him,” scoffed Philip, “He torched my hometown. He kidnapped Anthony’s mother and brother. He’s Borges! Pity is the last thing in the world he deserves.”

“I am Borges,” Doctor Jean replied, “you are a Borges citizen as well, do not forget.”

“I ain’t no jaggin’ Borges,” Hayley spat, “I’m Kamishan. My papa was Kamishan and his papa before him. Nobody calls me Borges.”

Doctor Jean made as if to say something, but Anthony collapsed on the ground and he went to him instead. After some fretful minutes punctuated by roars from the colossal dragon above, Doctor Jean had brought down Anthony’s fever and regulated his heartbeat. Anthony winked at him irrepressibly before falling asleep.

“The colossi should disappear right about…now,” Doctor Jean said, glancing up at the diminishing monsters. He nodded. “Best thing for him now is rest.”

“We can’t thank you enough,” Philip said gratefully, and Hayley nodded in agreement.

“It is nothing,” Doctor Jean said, “but a few questions have been raised. Are you this boy’s caretaker? You seem a bit young for it…can never tell these days people’s ages, families seem to get younger and younger every year…the byproduct of a broken country, is it not? Quite the social-developmental study, really…not my area of expertise…”

“Yes, I’m Anthony’s guardian,” Philip interjected quickly, “what should I know?”

“Well…it does not appear that he is arcing down as per normal invoker degradation.”

“He’s said it has,” Philip said, “but it sure doesn’t seem like it.”

“Well, keep an eye out,” Doctor Jean began cleaning up his things, “that child has immense power. I haven’t ever heard of a contemporary late-stage invoker with the ability to summon multiple colossi—including a cruiser-class—as well as simultaneous command level invocations, and control them effectively! Do you remember the last person who was able to do this?”

Hayley shook her head, but Philip widened his eyes as it dawned on him.

“Hector the First, Defender of Atos,” he murmured.

She scoffed. “That old fart? An exaggerated tall tale from a hundred years ago.”

“He is not!” Philip snapped, “The man who single-handedly brought the Borges to their knees and ushered in an era of peace for as long as he lived is not a tall tale. The comparison is an honorable one.”

“Well, hold on: Anthony was doped up on shrooms. If Hector really was the man, he could do all that without sightseers in his sleep…I bet,” she added, as Philip raised an eyebrow at her.

“Granted,” answered Doctor Jean, “The sightseers give us but a glimpse of Anthony’s unlocked potential. I am sure he is capable of so much more, given training and adequate guidance. I am sure you are knowledgeable of the visionary in Tajima.”

He pulled himself up on his carriage heavily, and it creaked under his weight. He turned to Philip and Hayley, grabbing both of them by the hand. “It is good that you came to me when you did, little girl. This boy owes you his life.”

Philip shot a sideways glance at Hayley, who noticed and looked away.

Doctor Jean waved from his carriage. “Goodbye, children. I can tell that both of you provide a stable moral environment for him. Please do nothing to harm him or allow him to deviate from the path of good. Now I must leave the Lagulina surroundings as I am most likely wanted under Borges law.”

He chuckled. “Borges law. What a joke. A coup and subsequent oligarchical establishment cannot create unprejudiced laws. I’m surprised Raffick even let me wag my tongue instead of cutting it out. That aside…no more sightseers, got it? Continuous usage wears down motor processes and brain receptivity. In fact, a distillation of it can be used as permanently numbing toxins. I’ve used it before to ease the passing of injured animals. Why I remember this one time…oh, but there I go again. Goodbye, goodbye. Be careful, be safe, be kind.”

“Wait, Doc!” Hayley shouted after the carriage, “you mentioned something about Timesink earlier. What is that?”

“It’s an extract from the sightseer mushroom,” Doctor Jean called back, “a CNS stimulant that heightens reflexes and increases strength, numbs the pain receptors among other things, for a short period of time. Predominantly administered as an inhalant. Why do you ask?”

He could not hear if she had answered or not, for he had moved out of earshot range.

“They are just children,” Doctor Jean murmured to himself, “and they have such a heavy burden to bear.”

#

Hayley screamed, a hollow noise, and swung her staff violently at a tree, knocking down a branch. With another swing she lopped off the red-capped heads of a patch of sightseers. A wild yell died in her throat as she made a few more wild swings at the tree and she sat down, chest heaving, hands throbbing.

“Hayley?” Philip ventured nervously, “are you okay?”

“The Jester. That filthy cheating animal,” she shrieked. “he was on Timesink when he beat my father in their duel.”

#

Anthony woke up, gasping for air. He was in an abandoned village, in the middle of the outdoor eating commons. The tables were empty, and it was silent. Wind whistled through the alley, swirling leaves down the destroyed city center. From a lone flagpole hung a tattered green and silver flag, flapping listlessly in the breeze.

I’m in Mint Village, he realized.

He stood up slowly and got his bearings. Aching, he began to walk in the direction of his house. Many buildings were half-burnt, and nearly all were damaged in some way - there was broken glass in many a window, doors banged on busted hinges, porches groaned in pain. He reached the end of the city square and tried to turn towards the housing area, but everything began to blur. The dirt path turned hazy, the sky changed from blue to yellow to white and grew brighter. A woman was walking towards him, her features blurred, but Anthony recognized her immediately.

“Mama,” he cried.

He reached out to her, and she to him. Just out of arm’s reach, she stopped. Anthony tried to move forward but could not, it was as if he were rooted to the ground. The sky became brighter and brighter until everything was enveloped in white. There were blurry halos of light, and voices came through as if he were underwater.

Anthony opened one eye. He was in the forest lying on his back. Philip was dabbing at his forehead with the sweaty towel again, distractedly though, as he was talking to Hayley in a low voice.

“You know,” he said to her, “I thought you were going to leave us.”

Hayley was lying against a tree twirling a piece of straw in her teeth. “Hah! You mean when I went off to get the doctor?”

He nodded. She leaned forward, serious. “I said I would never do that again. And I meant it.”

The corners of Philip’s mouth tightened.

Hayley sighed. He is never going to trust me again. She watched him let out a deep breath, allowing the realization of Anthony’s true powers to fully hit him.

“Desert Zone,” he said aloud, “we need to go to Desert Zone.”

Hayley grimaced at the mention of Desert Zone and tried to change the subject. “Say, did you see Dr. Jean’s medi-bag? That guy is sure into rabbits, eh?”

“It’s a stitching of the lunar hare,” Philip answered in an irritated manner, as if bothered that she did not know such a thing, “Old World legends portray the lunar hare as making immortality pills from its home on the moon. You can see the rabbit’s shape in the full moon sometimes.”

Hayley snorted. “Well, I dunno about you, but when I look at the moon I don’t see no rabbits. I see a big screaming face of someone in immense pain.”

“Me too,” Anthony murmured, propping himself up, “a big screaming face in the moon.”

“Anthony!” Philip started.

“You’re supposed to be resting!” Hayley scolded him.

“I know, but Hayles, your voice is so grating it woke me up.”

Philip snorted, and had a choking fit trying to hide his laughter.

“Oh that does it,” Hayley screeched, “after I got you a doctor and everything—”

“Geez, I’m starving,” Anthony said, “We never got a chance to eat, did we?”