This part of the story will introduce you to the main characters in Walking In Daylight. There is no sex in this part, but I hope that it will help the rest of the story that should be posted without too much delay. Please feel free to tell me what works or doesn't, as long as any negative is done in a constructive manner!
For those who have read this before, I've changed the date error.
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September 2020
The little boy sat huddled on the grass by the stop sign. Ryan Sealey knew he should hurry and get home before his parents started to worry, but since the streetlights weren't on yet and he had his tracker on, he went over anyway. The kid looked vaguely familiar, probably lived nearby, although much too young to have really been noticed before.
"You lost kid?" Ryan was surprised at the way the boy hunched down away from him.
"No, just don't want to be home. Mum and Dad are fighting again, so it's best if I'm out of the way."
Ryan saw the other glance up quickly then look down again. That brief view of his face showed a rather large bruise on one cheek, along with a black eye. For some reason, the injuries made him angry. He wanted to sit and put an arm around the thin shoulders and give comfort. That was totally out of character for him. If his younger brother sat around looking so dejected, Ryan would cuff him on the back of the head and tell him to grow up.
"What's your name? How old are you?"
For the longest time, silence met his questions, until Ryan was sure he wouldn't learn the answer to either one. Finally a soft voice, thick with tears, whispered. "Penlan Taylor. I'm six tomorrow. You're Ryan Sealey and you're ten. You live over there and you have a brother my age called Benjie."
Taylor! Oh jeez, this was the Taylor kid. Ryan took a few steps backward and mumbled about having to get home. His last sight of Penlan was of him curling up on the grass, shoulders shaking violently. Shit, Ryan didn't want to hurt him, but he couldn't be seen being nice to any Taylor. The father was a known nightwalker. Sure, he was bound as harmless by his daywalker wife, whose blood had infected and neutralized the man, but that didn't mean people weren't afraid of them.
The information packet sent around every year or so, after Kylen Taylor's yearly testing, confirmed that he was still bound. It also revealed the almost pure daywalker status of Eleane Pritchard Taylor, and that their son, Penlan, was neither night nor daywalker, although he had very slight leanings to the direction of daywalker. All that meant was that, while he could not be turned into nightwalker, he also couldn't bind a nightwalker.
At his front porch, Ryan looked back and saw Penlan get to his feet and walk down the street, still hunched over. His clothes were loose and baggy. He still looked so very small, unlike Benjie, who was husky and looked like he was eight or so. Ryan almost decided to run over and offer to walk Penlan home, but his mother opened the door. She sniffed at the sight of Penlan and dragged him inside, warning him to keep a safe distance.
"Bad enough he's in poor Benjie's class, there's no need for any of us to associate with that kind in other situations. Get upstairs and ready for bed, Ryan. You should have been home half an hour ago."
July 2028
Ryan pulled into the gas station on the way home from work. He gassed up and then went inside to pay and buy himself something to drink and munch on. His muscles ached from the long day of roadwork he'd done, a job that would last the summer under his uncle's watchful eye. Uncle Darrel firmly believed in not giving family a break. Even when the other guys took a break, he had to keep going.
As he debated between a sweet snack or a salty one, the clerk's harsh voice caught his attention. "I've told you before, daywalker, we don't serve your kind around here. Get out and don't come back!"
"Please, I just need milk and bread. I have money, so I don't understand why you won't let me buy them."
A daywalker shouldn't be refused service anywhere. Even nightwalkers, bound ones anyway, should not be refused. Ryan frowned and made his way towards the front. The clerk had his hand on the small daywalker's arm and was forcing him out of the store.
"Mr. Kelley. Shall I call my father to come in? Perhaps he will remind you that it is against the charter to refuse service to daywalkers. The Taylor family has lived in the area for at least ten years, if not longer. They need food and supplies just like anyone else."
The boy, who had to be older than he looked, turned around and looked off to the side. "It doesn't matter. I'll just go and get the milk and bread somewhere else. Thank you anyway."
Pen hurried out and looked up at the sky. It was already getting late. His mother would want him home before supper or there'd be hell to pay. Still, he now had to walk the 10 blocks to the grocery store, the only one that usually let him shop without any hassle. Sighing deeply, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and started forward, careful to keep his head down. Nobody would appreciate it if he accidentally met their eyes.
He didn't understand why people here were so against him. His cousin, Tania, had told him that in Riverton where she lived, she was able to go anywhere and do anything. The daywalkers there were welcome and treated well. Here, he was treated like dirt. Maybe it was because he and his mother were the only ones. Of course, if these people were basing their actions on his mother, then it was little wonder. She was a horrible person. Worse than his father, who was a bound nightwalker. The stories his father told him, and the things Pen himself had witnessed, showed that Eleane was an extremely dangerous person.
Pain flared up his legs and sides when Pen tripped on the uneven sidewalk. Yesterday's beating was a bad one. All because he was 20 minutes late in getting home from his afternoon walk. How bad would it be tonight? How long would he need to recover before he was able to get out for at least a few hours again? Why was his life so damned miserable? He was only 14 years old and he was already tired of life and living. Being at home was torture, being at school wasn't much better, and walking around town didn't bring him any comfort.
Pen felt his muscles tense when a car pulled up beside him. He knew better than to try and ignore it, so he stopped and waited to see if it would be a verbal or physical attack. "Hey kid, here, I bought your stuff for you."
Confusion poured through him and he dared a quick glance towards Ryan. "Why? I could get it from the grocery store."
This couldn't be good. People would see him talking to Ryan Sealey and things would be bad. Rumours might even reach his mother and that would cause trouble at home. Pen took a quick step back when Ryan seemed to appear out of nowhere on the sidewalk. He hadn't even noticed the other boy get out of his car and walk towards him. There was no need for him to look up. Too many times he'd watched the school baseball games and seen Ryan playing and laughing with his friends. Pen knew that the golden brown hair would be all messed up from both wind and hands running through it. He knew that the shoulders and chest would be barely hidden by the tight tees Ryan preferred. The broad but not overly muscles physique was one that attracted all the girls at school. He was everything Pen wished he could be.
It took a moment for him to realize that Ryan was talking to him and tried to focus. "It isn't right that he refused to let you buy this. My dad works at the police station, so I know what the charter allows and doesn't allow. Come on, take it, it's all right. You're Ken, right?"
"Pen, actually," Pen whispered even as he reached out for the bag with trembling fingers. "Thank you, but it would have been better if you'd just let it be. It will only make things worse."
Teenage voices began to shout taunts at Pen from across the street. Ryan looked over in annoyance and saw his brother and his friends there, who all scattered when they realised who he was. By the time he looked back, Pen was already running down the block towards his house. If one judged by his small stature, they would guess the boy was only 10 or 11 years old. Not only was he short, but he was also very delicate.
His blond hair was nearly white and was somewhere between curly and straight, falling just past thin shoulders. His eyes were nearly impossible to see, because of the way they stayed cast down during encounters, but they seemed to be green. Poor Pen seemed so desperately afraid and lonely and it didn't seem fair. The few times Ryan had seen the boy, the same thoughts came to mind, yet otherwise he never seemed to think of him at all.