by Hunter Blain
“If I am understanding, you think that the bomb your friend—Locke, was it?—threw somehow made the explosion bigger?”
“Ba-Bomb,” I corrected. “You know, like Super Mario.”
“Wasn’t that pronounced Bob-omb?”
“I…” Words failed me at the realization of my blunder. “Well…sure am glad no one else got to see me of all people mess up a reference like that.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Jose said, leaning his head back against the tree, interlacing his fingers over his stomach, and closing his eyes.
Taking his cue, I cupped my hands under my head, bent my left knee, and let my right leg cross over it. It was important to note that it was at the ninety-degree angle that manly men used to cross their legs because of, you know, balls.
I thought about Hayley, wordlessly urging the universe to help her through the devastation she was going through. Not only from the harm that had been done to her body but from losing her husband.
Lifting my head with both hands, I looked down my body and toward my left hip where Mjolnir invisibly rested. A silent gif played in my head of the hammer flying from Ludvig’s grave, refusing to leave my side. There was a significance there that I could only barely make out but knew was there, like looking at a mountain range in the dead of night.
I let my hands lower my head to the ground again as I stared up into the sky, seeing the clouds lazily drift overhead, uncaring of my problems.
My faced dropped to the side, and I repositioned myself to better see the ground next to me as I imagined Lily there, smiling.
It had been two years since I had embarked on the mission of killing every last warlock on Earth, and had intentionally kept myself busy during that time. But now that the mission was complete and I was forced to hurry up and wait until the mortals left the scene below, my heart was reminding me how much I missed her.
For an immortal, years flew by in much the same way humans perceived weeks, but my heart reassured me that it had been diligently keeping track of the time.
I reached a hand out to gingerly touch the ground where I pictured Lily next to me, and a frown pulled my face down as my fingers went through her body to touch cold, lifeless dirt.
Lily vanished, and my heart ached even more at seeing her go.
Turning my face back toward the darkening sky, I thought about all I had lost since my journey to save the world had begun.
The still polaroid shot of all my friends at a backyard BBQ came to mind once more. Only this time, several of my companions were grayed out, with Hayley on the verge of losing all her color. Ludvig stood next to her with a mouth full of meat…completely comprised of black and white.
The urge to shake my head in an effort to banish the thoughts was overruled by the self-harming desire to bear witness to all we had lost. Joey. Dawson. Ludvig. And…Da.
“I’m coming for ya, buddy,” I mouthed to Depweg, wherever he was. “I’ll find you. I promise.”
As I stared up into the passing, hypnotic clouds, sleep seized its advantage aided by my anxiety and depression, sneaking up like an assassin in the cover of night and taking me.
2
Depweg
Depweg awoke completely naked on the ground. With a fuzzy head filled to the brim with the mental equivalent of mud, he squinted up at an unforgiving sun as his body apparently tried to stitch itself back together from the inside out. Or maybe he was just hungover.
With eyes stained crimson from burst capillaries, he let his blurry gaze sweep all around him in erratic flicks.
“John?” he hissed weakly with a throat that yearned for hydration.
His entire body did its best impression of a gas station burrito, with an outer layer comprised of lava and a core filled with ice.
Scrambling to get to his feet like a drunk on ice, Depweg had his breath ripped from his mouth as blistered skin protested any movement. It felt as if he were wearing a diving suit made from stiff leather.
“Ahhhh!” Depweg screamed, veins bulging from his neck as every nerve in his body locked hands and began singing a discord of agony.
Collapsing to his hands and knees, warm drool roped from his mouth as the world spun around as if he were in a gyroscope that one might find at a rundown carnival.
A bench appeared in the top of his vision, calling to him and promising stability. With a stomach that heaved up clear bile, Depweg crawled to the bench, crossing his arms over the seat, and rested his head atop the slowly healing skin of his forearms.
For a reason he couldn’t put to words, tears didn’t flow from the indescribable agony Depweg was experiencing. Instead, his body convulsed at seemingly random intervals, with his shoulders nearly yanking his arms off the bench in their intensity.
It was at that moment his stomach decided to do its best impression of a rolling thunderstorm, dulling all other sensory inputs. The need to feed was rampantly growing as his body continued to repair massive amounts of damage throughout.
The beast within his mind chuffed once, reminding Depweg that it was in his best interest to find food, and quick. It even had the courtesy to suggest that pretty much anything would do. A squirrel, cat, or even a tasty human would make him feel oh, so much better.
To emphasize its point, the wolf inside his mind flipped the hourglass over, wordlessly threatening how much time he had to find food. Normally, the hourglass was used when Depweg was in feral form to know how much time he had left before the wolf would be strong enough to take over…like in Mexico. But after his time in Faerie, Depweg had increased the volume of sand in much the same way John’s own well of power seemed to function.
There was a feminine gasp nearby, causing Depweg to pull back outside his mind and shoot his steadily clearing gaze toward a woman in an outfit consisting of acid-washed jeans and a matching jacket.
It was at that moment that Depweg understood he was completely naked and on a public street in broad daylight.
The woman with blonde, crimped hair covered her mouth as wide eyes glided over blistered skin.
“Where…where am I?” Depweg croaked out.
The woman continued to gawk in horrified disgust at the naked man.
Depweg—sensing his opportunity to grasp even a minute semblance to a piece of the puzzle he was currently in—straightened himself and turned more of his body to the stranger. She responded by taking a quick step backward and holding out a hand in a gesture that universally read stay away.
“Please,” Depweg started, “I need help.”
“Wha-wha-what happened to you?”
Glancing down at his body, Depweg formed a lie that would fit the situation.
“I was in a fire…and…and need to get back to my friends.”
The woman briefly looked around, apparently searching for something.
“Where was the fire? I…I don’t see any smoke.”
“Please,” Depweg said more urgently. “Where am I? I need to get back to my friends and help them.”
“You’re…you’re in Grand Island,” the woman finally answered, visibly lowering her guard as the odd situation became more and more explainable.
“Grand Island? Nebraska?!” Depweg demanded as he pushed himself into a seated position on the bench. His head threatened to split in half at the sudden movement, drawing another wave of nausea from his empty, rumbling stomach.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” the woman said as she began looking all around again.
The beast inside Depweg’s mind whispered that the woman would make a tasty meal. Her flesh would surely help heal the were enough so he could get back to his friends, even if they were somehow across the globe in Germany.
“What’s your name?” Depweg asked, fighting the urge to vomit.
The woman seemed to not hear the question as she looked all up and down the street.
“Hey,” Depweg said louder. “What’s your name?”
The woman clad in acid-washed denim turned her focus back to the bl
istered, naked man.
“Tif-Tiffany.”
The wolf inside his mind chuffed angrily at realizing what Depweg was doing by asking the human for her name. It would be harder to enjoy a burger if the menu showed a picture of the actual cow it had come from, complete with a name under the unsuspecting face.
“Well, Tiffany, I’m Dep—” The were started before changing his mind. “Jonathan…do you happen to know where I can get some clothes and food?”
“Shouldn’t we call an ambulance or something?” she countered.
Depweg’s stomach rumbled again, this time drawing a scowl from the woman.
“Please…I need to eat. I’ll…I’ll be fine if I can get some meat.”
Tiffany just stared in stunned silence at the man with bubbled skin and bloodshot eyes whose only concern was to eat.
Depweg decided to take control.
“Tiffany, do you have a car nearby? I’ll let you take me to the hospital, but only after I eat.” When she didn’t respond, Depweg added, “You know how hospitals are. They’ll make me wait for hours in the waiting room before running all kinds of tests. I won’t get any food until at least tomorrow, and I’m already starving. If I had a full belly, I wouldn’t mind the waiting part.”
Tiffany seemed to relax a little before slowly nodding.
An older couple walked down the street on the opposite side of the road. The elderly lady took note of the naked Depweg and gasped, prompting her husband to look over with squinting, bespectacled eyes. Then he grabbed his wife’s shoulder and hurried her away with a scowl while lamenting, “Damn hippies and their drugs.”
Tiffany turned and saw the old couple hurry along. Returning her gaze to Depweg, she suggested, “Get behind the bushes over there.” She pointed to a row of thick shrubbery that hid a plain brick wall. “I’ll grab my car and swing around to pick you up.”
Depweg nodded, throwing in a friendly smile as he groaned his way to his feet and hustled behind the dense bushes. The leaves and branches stung as they glided across his blistered skin, making Depweg wince.
Tiffany moved swiftly down the sidewalk, placing a hand on her purse to keep it from flopping around as she power walked toward a row of cars along an adjacent street.
Peeking through the bushes, Depweg noticed how vintage all of the cars looked. Even the businesses that were spaced down the street seemed old. A RadioShack sign made Depweg do a double take before callused hands rubbed at sore, red-rimmed eyes.
“RadioShack?”
In the shop’s window was an advertisement for the new Nintendo Entertainment System.
“What the…” Depweg mumbled before shaking his head in an effort to focus on the beast scratching at its cage.
Food first. Then he could give thought to the oddity of this town, seemingly lost in time.
Within a few minutes, a yellow Volkswagen Bug pulled up to the curb in front of the bench. Looking up and down the road, Depweg moved from around the bushes and jogged to the car right as Tiffany opened the passenger side door.
Sliding in with a suppressed groan as sensitive skin glided across the tough material of the seat, Depweg shut his door before nodding at Tiffany.
“So what are you hungry for?” Tiffany asked, feeling more at ease with the strange, naked man.
“Anything made with cow or chicken…or both.”
“I know just the place. But first, um, what size are you?” Tiffany asked, eyeing Depweg up and down with an assessing gaze.
Catching her meaning, Depweg reminded himself that outside of the supernatural community (and parts of Europe), it was a tad odd to be in the nude while in public.
“Large,” Depweg informed as he positioned the AC vents to blow directly on his burnt flesh.
“That’s perfect! My roommate’s brother up and left, but he was a medium, though…” Tiffany eyed the ample muscles hidden beneath blistered skin. “He didn’t enjoy lifting weights as much as you apparently do.”
Depweg didn’t know what to say, so kept silent while his stomach answered for him.
“Hey, I have some ground beef at my place. Why don’t we get you some food and clothes at the same time?”
“Sounds good…but…” Depweg began, not wanting to risk his luck.
“But why am I trusting a complete stranger who I found naked on the street?”
“Ye…yeah,” Depweg admitted, doing his best to create a soft outward appearance that radiated peace. The wolf inside growled at being perceived as anything other than an alpha predator.
“Let’s just say, takes one to know one,” Tiffany replied with a sly smile while tapping her nose.
It took the injured and famished Depweg a few seconds to catch her meaning before he began sniffing the air. The smell of charred flesh overwhelmed most of what flooded his nostrils, but somewhere in the mix was a recognizable scent that Depweg hadn’t smelled in years.
“You’re…you’re a were?”
“I prefer the term Lycan, but yeah.”
Something settled across Depweg’s gyrating mind like slowly pouring ice water into a boiling pot.
“I don’t like this.”
Tiffany didn’t seem to be expecting that answer and wore her feelings on her sleeve.
“I’m sorry. I meant…I was just in a fight that ended in an explosion, and then I woke up here.”
“That doesn’t sound that odd to me.”
“In Germany.”
“Oh.”
“In 2034”
“…oh…” Tiffany drawled, trying to absorb his words and process them.
“Judging from your reaction, that RadioShack back there wasn’t some sort of ironic hipster store, was it?”
“N-no?” Tiffany answered in a question.
“And your clothes, hair, and even this car…are modern to you, aren’t they?”
“Y-yes?”
Taking in a deep breath that stretched tight, healing skin, Depweg exhaled while asking, “What year is it?”
“1983,” Tiffany answered flatly, no longer feeling confident or comfortable with the situation.
“That’s not the odd part to me,” Depweg clarified, rubbing his eyes with the fingers of one hand.
“It isn’t?”
“The odds that the first person I found was a were probably can’t even be quantified.”
“What does it, um, mean?” Tiffany asked, curious yet concerned with the combined topic of time travel and the improbable odds of both participants being weres.
“It means it wasn’t a coincidence,” Depweg stated flatly as he dropped his hand from his eyes and stared out of the window to look upon the year 1983. “It means…someone did this to me on purpose.”
3
Locke - The In-Between
Still robed in his clinical gown, Locke unhurriedly walked down the hallway of his hospital floor. Stiff joints creaked and muscles ached, but he was feeling better as the mounting minutes came and passed.
The IV line—connected to the portable stand that the wizard pushed alongside him—kept a continual supply of enchanted drugs that aided in his recovery time.
Nurse Isaac was at a modern workstation doing what looked to be mundane paperwork.
Easing his way to the desk, Locke lightly waved his free hand in greeting at the pleasant nurse.
“Well, look who’s up and about,” Nurse Isaac jovially exclaimed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his office chair while giving Locke a quick once over.
“Yeah. I’m feeling pretty good, all things considered.” Locke lifted a finger to point at the generic hospital patch that covered his missing eye. “Still getting used to the altered depth perception, though.”
“Could be worse. Could’ve lost them both,” Isaac said with an optimistic smile. “That, and I also think there should be someone around here who would be able to help you adjust.”
“I hope so,” Locke admitted before adding, “How’s Hayley?”
“Warden Broadway is expected to make a ful
l recovery. But she will need time to rest after the ordeal she’s endured.”
Locke’s mind dramatically flashed to a still image of a smiling Ludvig holding a large dinner plate overflowing with sandwiches. His happiness was evident in his eyes, and Locke knew it was about more than just the food he was consuming.
Still within his own mind as he peered at the smiling Ludvig frozen in time, lightning flashed and Hayley stood alone with a bulging belly. Her face was cast in shadows as her chin rested upon her breastbone, peering down at the growing womb. Tears of anguish dripped from the tip of her freckled nose. Gliding hands stretched on either side of her stomach, almost as if in doing so, the unborn remanent of her beloved would be protected.
“Yeah…” Locke breathed out as he closed his remaining eye and slowly shook his head to banish the imagery. Yet he couldn’t dispel a thought that grew like the warden’s womb.
“And the baby?” Locke asked, opening his eye and searching the nurse’s face for any hidden information.
“The baby is strong, with healthy vitals,” Nurse Isaac answered.
Locke broke eye contact and let his gaze fall to the floor, bobbing his head in acceptance of the answer. His train of thought continued down its tracks.
“What about Hecate?” he continued, lifting his face again.
“I’m sorry, Apprentice Locke. I am not able to discuss that information with you.” His voice was stern but still somehow pleasant.
Locke was about to succumb to a knee-jerk reaction and ask why the nurse had shared information about Warden Broadway, but decided it was best to take the gifts he had been given and not press further. The calculating portion of his brain slipped in the idea that Isaac didn’t have to provide any information on Hayley, but the nurse knew she was more than just an ally; she was a friend.
“Thank you,” Locke finally said, nodding once toward Isaac before continuing his stroll down the halls.
“Oh, I believe Elders Scymanky and Tafoya were looking for you,” Nurse Isaac called out to Locke, who was already halfway down the corridor.
