by M. J. Sewall
Elder Zamma came closer to the phone. A rough voice with a German accent broke through the phone’s speaker, “Elder Zamma? Is something happening? I just had a flash. Derek tells me he did too.”
“Your brother thinks it’s old age, but this feels like a breakout. Are you done there in Mozambique?” asked the elder.
“Yes, I am flying back tonight,” said Ehrhardt through the speakerphone, “It was a girl who could start small fires. The girl wouldn’t join us. She had a swimming ‘accident,’ I’m afraid. No witnesses, but she’s the only one. No breakout here.”
Derek gave his elder a knowing glance. The elder glared. “What about this flash?”
“It was a flash of that berserker Viking. But I gave him a true death long ago. Does that make any sense?”
“Yes. I had a flash of him too.” Zamma smiled, “Await instructions. I think I know where to start looking.”
“Let me know.” Ehrhardt hung up.
“I guess I don’t get a goodbye.” Derek put his phone back in his jacket pocket. “Where do you think it is?”
“California,” answered the elder.
Derek was dubious. “Well, that narrows it down. But that’s a huge state. I know, this body was born there. How did you get California?”
“The boy had a California license plate on his wall. One of those plastic types you get with your name on it. It may have said Corey or Cody. But there was another detail. I think he threw some sports equipment when he broke the mirror. The uniform near him was blue and white.”
“Very observant.”
The elder smiled thinly. “I’ve lived a great many lives. Elders have to be observant.”
Derek sighed. “So, a teenage boy who plays a sport, somewhere in a huge state that is bigger than Germany? What if he got that trinket when he visited California?”
Zamma wasn’t amused with the challenge. “What did your flash show?”
“Someone on a train. Looked like it was by the ocean.” Derek rubbed his chin. “Okay. Ocean, California. Makes sense. I guess I’m going to Google every high school sports team in California with blue and white colors. I’ll set up the trip. No fun for me tonight.”
Zamma added, “I want you to take the Witness.”
Derek shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. He hasn’t been reliable in over two years. We used him up.”
“He’s the best finder we’ve ever had. If it’s a breakout, he’s our best chance. Start at San Diego. Drive up to every town and city with a matching sports team. If it’s a breakout, the Witness will sniff them out. You and your brother can recruit them.”
Derek said, “Sounds like a fun road trip.”
The elder caught the sarcasm, but didn’t comment. He turned his back on his underling. Derek knew he was dismissed.
***
In San Diego, Derek waited in the rented convertible. Montgomery Field was smaller than the international airport in San Diego, catering mostly to private jets. He tapped his fingers on the console between the front seats, doing the calculations out loud.
“Mozambique and San Diego are 10,000 miles apart. The elder’s Bombardier 850 jet goes about 450 miles per hour, tops. That means with refueling, Ehrhardt had been on the plane for over 24 hours. And he is being summoned here for what surely is a waste of time. He’ll be in such a great mood. Road trip ruined.”
“Could you please stop that?” said the Witness from the back seat.
Derek checked the rear view and continued tapping his fingers. “Sorry, does that bother you, Witness?”
The Witness didn’t respond, but asked instead, “Why now? You haven’t used me for years. Why don’t you just let me die in my cell?”
Derek scoffed, “We make the rules, old buddy. You failed us last time. I told my elder we should kill you. My brother volunteered to do it. Thank our elder you’re still alive.”
“I did everything you asked,” said the Witness quietly. He was grateful to finally be out in the open, cleaned up with fresh clothes. They made sure his necklace had stayed around his neck, of course. He would never get used to the evil metal thing that kept him a prisoner.
“Yes, but you didn’t do it fast enough.’ Derek continued tapping his fingers, “Oh, here he is.”
The car door opened. “Open the boot,” said Ehrhardt.
“We’re in America,” Derek said lightheartedly.
“Open the trunk then!” Ehrhardt slammed the door, taking his traveling bag to the trunk.
“I used to love road trips,” said Derek. The witness ignored him.
The trunk slammed as well, and Ehrhardt got in the passenger seat, fastening the seatbelt. He slammed his door shut.
Derek offered, “Nice to see you brother.”
Ehrhardt looked in the back seat. “We’re using the Witness? He’s unreliable.”
“Not my call, brother,” said Derek, “Our loving master thought it best.”
“Stop calling him that. He does not own us. Why did I have to make this flight right now? I’ve been on a plane for over 24 hours.”
“It’s a breakout.” said the Witness from the backseat.
“No flies on you,” said Derek, “Who told you that, witness?”
The Witness said, “Lucky guess.”
Ehrhardt turned to look at the man in the back seat. “Listen very closely, Witness. If this is a breakout, you will help us find them. California hasn’t had ‘the big one’ yet. With the mood I’m in, I will make the entire state fall into the sea.”
The Witness began to bow his head, but raised it instead, “How much did Sri Lanka hurt? You must have slept for a week. Don’t forget the other costs of evil acts. I can’t wait to see what horrible life you’ll lead next time around.”
Ehrhardt yanked the Witness by the hair. “I don’t know where you find any strength to resist. But I am done with you, after this. Either way, this will be your last trip.” He turned to Derek, “Let’s go.”
The Witness said softly, “I know I’m dead already.”
Derek put the car in drive, and checked his mirrors. As he eased out onto the surface street, he sighed under his breath, “Best road trip ever.”
CHAPTER SEVEN - BULLY
Ariana walked with her two closest friends toward Sea Valley High. It was mid-September, and in Central California that meant the summer was fighting its last battle with autumn. That day, summer was still winning, and even at 7:45 in the morning, it was hot.
In her small city, at least a third of her high school class walked to school. At barely three miles by three miles square, holding nearly 50,000 people including outlying suburbs, it was a town made for walking.
Dora continued, “…so hot. He came with my cousin Alberto last night and was like…”
Ariana was barely listening. She was worried about the strange things that were happening, and Ariana had no one she could talk to. Weirdness had happened in the past, even a few incidents that she was sure her mother had seen. A few years earlier, she had tried to talk about them, but her mother got strange and kept changing the subject. She realized even though she had a large, strong family around her, she was on her own.
Lately, things had gotten worse. During the summer, more things started happening, even scary dreams of people chancing her. Random flashes kept coming into her mind for no reason. Two men with no faces, a mirror that she couldn’t see herself in, and weird symbols that she couldn’t decipher. But these flashes lasted only a fraction of a second. She imagined the silver jewelry box in her mind and tried to keep it locked, but it was getting harder lately. She wondered for the millionth time if she was going crazy.
“Are you even listening to us, Arry?” asked her other friend Sylvia. “We are discussing seriously hot guys here.”
“Sorry, I’m a little out of it today,” Ariana admitted. Her gaze had been drawn to a scene in the parking lot.
“Oh, I think Arry is into skinny white boys now,” teased Dora.
Sylvia said, �
��Shut up. That’s the Sandler kid. Is that Billy Miller?”
“Oh wow. I think it is,” Dora exclaimed, “Didn’t he move away, like, years ago?”
“Yeah. I guess he’s back,” Ariana said.
Dora said, “Okay, if you are staring at Billy, he is hot; I don’t care if he’s white.”
Ariana frowned. “And a total jerk. Especially to that kid.”
“I heard the Sandler kid tried to kill himself last year,” Sylvia added.
Dora agreed, “I heard that too. Do you have any classes with him?”
“I think he’s in my Algebra 2 class,” Ariana said, “That’s sad. I’m not really sure. I’m such a bad person.”
“He’s kind of weird.” Sylvia offered.
Ariana said, “You’re kind of weird, chica. I feel bad for him.”
They were too far away to hear, walking parallel to the scene in the parking lot. A few other kids were watching from a distance. Billy and two friends were laughing at the kid’s expense. That was obvious at any distance.
As they got closer, Ariana kept looking at Lucas. Yes, Lucas is his name, she thought. Right when she thought of his name, he flinched and looked around. She looked away, unsettled. She’d tried hard to keep other people’s fragmented thoughts out of her head. Can I broadcast them too? Did Lucas just hear my thoughts? What is going on?
She imagined her mental jewelry box shut tight. Panic rose, but Ariana tried to act casual in front of her friends. She felt compelled to look back to the scene.
Lucas was staring at his tormentor; but Lucas’ face was like stone. It was as though he was patiently waiting for a child to stop speaking. Ariana was sure he saw just the hint of a smile on Lucas. It made her sick how boys like Lucas were treated. He wore glasses, and was a little short and too thin. Then Ariana realized that he had some muscles she’d never noticed. They must have been going to the same schools for years, even shared classrooms, but they’d never even spoken. She doubted Lucas even knew her name.
His tormentors laughed again, and now she was close enough to hear Billy was talking about the size of a certain body part. That made her feel angrier. She felt sick to her stomach. His henchmen were laughing. Ariana stared at the one called Jonesy. Then something happened. Billy’s friend held his stomach, and the next second, the lewd joke was silenced by Jonesy launching projectile vomit all over Billy. The other henchman laughed until he too was soaked in a stream of puke coming from Jonesy.
Lucas looked stunned, his calm mask breaking. The girls passed the scene. Ariana’s friends, and the other kids gathered around, all howling with laughter. Billy could only repeat an angry, “What the f…!”
Then Lucas stared at Ariana.
She thought, Did I just do that? Does he know I just did that?
Her friends just led her away, laughing. Lucas walked in the opposite direction. The first bell rang out through the campus. Ariana was in a daze as the three girls broke apart to go to their separate classes.
As she stepped into her classroom, she clearly heard a word whispered in her mind.
Thanks.
CHAPTER EIGHT - TARZANA
Derek asked wearily, “Who knew blue and white were such popular colors for high school sports?” He put down the soft top on their rented convertible. They left the greater Los Angeles area, headed north on the 101 freeway.
Ehrhardt consulted the GPS. “Westlake Village is next. We’re finally getting to the prettier places in this state. When were we here last? 1999?”
Derek corrected, “2000. The boy who could breathe under water. We gave him a true death.”
“That’s right. It was that ancient called Paxix, right? That little scheisse escaped us forever. Remember when we almost caught him in Berlin?” asked Ehrhardt.
Derek remembered. “Yeah. Couldn’t have been worse timing. 1945. The Russians took over East Berlin the day we had him cornered.”
“Oh, I remember. You were in the body of that blonde woman.” Ehrhardt said, “I like it better when my brother is in a man’s body.”
Derek laughed, “The River decides where our ancient goes. Sometimes a male body, sometimes a female. But we always are true to our core. We always find each other again, brother.”
Ehrhardt nodded. “Being an ancient warrior means we get to see the world over the expanse of time. Too bad the inferiors are determined to destroy it all.”
“I remember last time in California you hooked up with one of those ‘inferiors’. You had a boy together, didn’t you?”
Ehrhardt sniffed. “We all have weak moments. She claims he was mine. I have no way to know. I only used her for her body. I’ve no time for anything else.”
“You’re too hard on regular humans. Not everyone gets chosen by The River,” mused Derek, feeling philosophical. “Look around. I think they keep getting better at this civilization stuff. I don’t miss the days before toilets.”
The Witness in the backseat shifted uncomfortably. They allowed him a shower and new clothes, but denied him sunglasses. Having hands chained was uncomfortable in any car, especially in convertibles which are not generally known for their comfy back seats. His long, sandy brown hair wiped in his face.
“How you doing back there, Witness?” asked Derek over the wind.
He didn’t want to talk. He had to concentrate until they passed Tarzana. Any stray thought could betray her.
“Not speaking to us? We have treated you with some kindness this time. Don’t be rude,” added Ehrhardt.
The Witness got an idea. They had just passed Encino, and Tarzana would be the next city off the 101. He couldn’t afford to let even the smallest thought escape.
“Treated well?” shouted the Witness, “You’ve kept me prisoner for over ten years! You make me root out our kind so you can kill them. Screw your so-called kindness.”
Ehrhardt slowly turned his head to see the man, “Did you just grow a new spine, Witness? What is wrong with you?”
“Wrong?” the Witness shouted over the wind. “Besides the fact that you punish me by killing thousands if I don’t comply? I hate you and your pathetic master!” The Witness started kicking the back of Erhardt’s passenger seat.
They had just passed Tarzana. The next city was Woodland Hills, then Calabasas. He had to focus them on something else besides his worry for her. He continued kicking, keeping his mind blank.
Ehrhardt grabbed the legs of the Witness to get him to stop. Derek engaged, “Whoa there, partner. Calm down. You know we had no idea some of those punishments would get out of hand. We didn’t mean to kill, well, all those people. When you wouldn’t help us put down that breakout, we had to be sure, but Ehrhardt just outdid himself that day in Sri Lanka. Didn’t you brother?”
“And I paid for that,” Ehrhardt said, still staring at the Witness in the back seat.
The witness said, “And you’ll pay for it again. I hope next life you’re born starving in some third world country.”
Ehrhardt took off his glasses, suspicion dancing across his face.
The Witness finally looked away, to seem ashamed of what he’d said. He glanced up long enough to see the green highway sign that read “Pkwy Calabasas Exit Only.” The danger had passed.
“I am sorry. Forgive me.” The Witness bowed his head and closed his eyes, letting his long hair fall over his face. She’s safe, at least. I haven’t betrayed her again.
Ehrhardt stared at the Witness, deciding if he was hiding something. He shook his head and looked forward again. “I think the boredom of captivity has begun some actual madness. Witness, if you help us, with none of your tricks, we can try to take you on more missions. You are a good finder when you want to be.”
“Yes, sir.” The Witness’ eyes were still closed. Being this close to the sight of his betrayal hurt.
Derek tried to lighten the mood. He pondered, “Do you think this is a true breakout? We haven’t had one in living memory. Since, what, the 1870s?”
“I don’t know why you focu
s on dates so much.” replied Ehrhardt, “Why not just enjoy each life as we are born into them?”
“This is body number 27 for me. How can you not remember where you came from?” asked Derek.
“Oh, I remember that, brother,” Ehrhardt said, “I just try to remember the good things like epic fights and beautiful women. Even the good deaths are nostalgic to me. We’ve both had a few spectacular deaths.”
“We have,” Derek agreed, “But I don’t want to remember how the city smelled in say, the London streets of Shakespeare. Or the leeches by so-called doctors. Look around, brother, this life is amazing.”
Ehrhardt shook his head. “Why? The inferiors are still disgusting. Raping this planet, killing animals for food. Barbarians. Idiots in any era! Take climate…”
“Oh no, let’s not talk about global warming again,” said Derek.
“Climate change, actually. It’s science!” Ehrhardt exclaimed.
Derek disagreed, “Nonsense. Do you honestly think that these humans can kill this planet? It shrugged off the dinosaurs. The climate is changing, yes; it’s called weather!”
“I don’t know how you have the accumulated knowledge of dozens of lives, but you can ignore what 97% of scientists know.” Ehrhardt said.
Derek argued, “Take our master…”
Ehrhardt screamed. “He’s not our master!”
“Ok. Sorry, our boss, our elder,” Derek clarified, “Our elder can do magic. So can we. Your precious ‘scientists’ don’t believe magic exists. And you put your faith in inferior human kooks? The ones that said the earth was flat? The ones that once believed in ‘spontaneous generation’; that mice could just wink into existence?”
“You’re an idiot,” said Ehrhardt, staring forward.
They were silent for a while. The Witness smiled. He loved when they fought. Which was often. It was the only small joy he got out of life.
Derek gave up the argument. “I really just want to relax, watch a movie. We work too hard.”
