by Mark Tufo
“No, because it didn’t happen to me.”
I got a stunned expression. “Then why would you say something like that?”
“I’ve…seen it done, and I did nothing.”
“Are you feeling guilty? You can’t be responsible for fixing every travesty. Especially given your size.”
“I now see why those that love you might be tempted to travel down darker paths.”
“Ouch, Linnick. Little low with that punch.”
“I was attempting to distract your mind by telling you there are worse fates.”
“Yeah, the old ‘stab me so I’ll forget the bullet wound’ routine. That doesn’t usually work so good; you just end up with two holes. I honestly don’t know what to think. I mean, she begged me not to come, but she absolutely knew I would, so that doesn’t hold much weight.”
“What does your heart tell you?”
“That there is no way this could be happening. That I’m either missing huge pieces of this butt-fucked picture or I’m making too much out of it. But since I am now trapped in an underworld I don’t belong to, I think I’m allowed a little over-reaction.”
“You will want to get over it soon.”
“Are you channeling my first wife now?”
“Maybe if you didn’t have more than one mate you wouldn’t be in trouble.”
“No wiser words ever spoken.”
“When will you be ready to continue?”
“If I get up and start walking, will you shut up?”
“That’s a distinct possibility if we are moving, yes.”
Little shit was sleeping less than ten minutes after I started walking; I think she just wanted the rocking motion I produced. “Glad to see one of us is enjoying themselves. Sweet dreams.” I told her. “You wouldn’t fuck me over, right?” I was looking down at her. The part of me, the trusting part, thought no fucking way. We were in this together, through thick and thin, but when I peeled down a little deeper than the superficial emotional layer that I had fabricated to protect myself with, I was left with a completely alien being whom I’d only known for a few short days, and she says she can’t get out; is that because she belongs here? If a boy I’d known for two hundred years could try to shove a knife in my back, why couldn’t she? What’s in this horror trek for her? I didn’t want to be a Deneaux and distrust everyone, equally; what kind of life had that been for her?
Speaking of the old bag, I was wondering when I’d run into her. Has to happen eventually, doesn’t it? I guess I should count my blessing that she wasn’t with Durgan’s little party. Wouldn’t that have been fun? Probably would have liquefied my eyes right there and then and my damned glass belly would have just shattered. The only good thing about her was you always knew where you stood; there was no two-faced treachery. She was always going to do what was best for her, screw whoever stood in the way. You can always count on a liar to lie, so you can trust them, in a twisted, but dependable, way. What happened to her was necessary, though I find myself thinking about her more than I should. She was a necessary adversary, if that makes sense. As long as your goals aligned with hers, there was no one better to help you achieve that end. “I wonder if she’s a bounty hunter down here?” That was enough for me to do a quick scan of the area. No Deneaux, no Tim-Tim, and near as I could tell, no nothing. I looked down; Linnick was still out. Now was as good a time as any to sit. I found myself exceedingly tired and a little depressed, truth be told.
“Tallboat! It is time to arise!”
“Why?” I half opened one eye.
“To keep moving.”
“There’s no purpose to it, no reason to continue on.”
She said nothing as she climbed out of my pocket and onto my shoulder so she could get a higher vantage point; I hoped she wouldn’t bite my ear. “How could you?” she asked, turning.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about and could you get out of my face?”
“You wandered into the pit of despair.”
“Seems like I’ve been circling the rim since the moment I adopted Tommy.”
“We have got to get out of here before it gets worse!”
“Before what gets worse? My life? Huh! How could that get any worse? My family wants me dead! I’m surrounded by creatures that want to torture me or use me for some other nefarious purposes. I miss my dog. I’m, I’m tired, Linnick. I’m just going to stay here. I’m better off.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. It’s this place! It drains serotonin from the body; if it pulls it all from you, you will never recover!”
“Leave me alone, Linnick. I don’t care. I’m done. I’ve been done for decades; I was just too stupid to realize it. I should have thrown myself into a volcano the moment my wife died instead of holding on…holding on for what? Was I that thick to think that others wouldn’t try to use me?”
“I am not a fan of this version of Tallboat! Where is the one that is all mouth and bravado?”
“That dipshit? He just had a rude awakening and realized he knew absolutely nothing, was absolutely nothing.” I rolled over so that Linnick had to jump off or get trapped under me. Sleep…that was all that mattered. It was the only thing that would offer any type of escape from the feelings of hopelessness and desolation coursing through my body. At least one would have hoped so. My dream started off good enough. There, in a fancy gold frame was a wide, beautiful portrait of everyone I had ever loved…a big, loving bunch of family members and good friends I considered family. I felt a surge in my heart at the sight of them, smiling, standing shoulder to shoulder…and somehow, I knew what was going to happen next. I felt choked up, something wasn’t right; one by one they were overlaid with a black cross, signifying their deaths. I knew the cause with each new cross. Most met with violent ends; others simply wasted away against the worst enemy of all…time. In the end, they were all claimed. I was looking at a field of black crosses; my perspective drew back. In my nightmare, I was on my knees, sobbing into my hands. The burden was too much for anyone to carry.
At some point, I was awake–I guess nothing mattered to me, not my head scraping across the strange surface, not the tingle in my feet, not the constant chattering of Linnick in my ear. I wanted nothing to do with any of it. If I’d had a knife I would have jabbed it through my temple repeatedly until the signal was lost and I could no longer move my arm. What was left of me would leak out onto the ground. I should have dragged my axe blade across my neck but I couldn’t even be bothered to move. I was no stranger to depression–I’d suffered through a few bouts during my time walking the planet, but this was orders of magnitude above and beyond anything I’d ever experienced. I was so utterly devoid of life, I could not even contemplate that a different state of mind actually existed. Who I was, who I’d ever been, who I could ever be was shrouded over by a curtain made from cold, indifferent steel.
I knew just how fucked I was when even sex held no appeal. Not that there was anything here enticing me, just that I wasn’t even thinking about it. Thoughts of love making ceased to cross my mind and, as a mostly normal male, that’s just never the case. Sure, usually I could chew gum and read a book and maybe not think about it for a while, but well, it sure wasn’t ever too far from the forefront of my mind. Right now, though? It was absent to the point that it never existed. This was the point I should have thought, “Hey. Maybe I should give a shit.” I didn’t. I think my face was hurting; still didn’t make me turn it or try to lift it up. There was no will, no desire. I had never been so empty, even when I was dead. How can you have less than nothing?
I fell asleep again, not that I cared. The blackness behind my eyes was not disturbed with any imagery from my mind, and that was what it was. I did not care one way or the other. When I awoke I was looking at Linnick standing up on Bill’s head; their backs were to me. Bill did not rotate his body; his facial features sort of swam through the goop he was made up of so that without ever turning around, he was now looking at me. I realized this held
some interest to me and it prickled–the way your skin feels after brushing through nettles. Linnick turned when she realized I had moved.
“Bill?” I sat up and immediately pitched over as if my head was a bowling ball. “What the fuck?” I asked, propping my hands in an effort to get into a perpendicular position.
“You should stay down,” Linnick said, “at least for another day.”
“How long?”
Linnick said nothing.
“How long, Linnick?”
“You were in the pit for nearly two months.”
“What?” I sat up and was met with the exact same results, like my head was tied to an anvil with a bungee. I love when I validate the insanity argument. You know the one, doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results; I was constantly testing that hypothesis.
Bill’s eyes shifted up so Linnick was almost standing on them. They knew something I didn’t.
“Spill it.” I wisely stayed down this time.
“You were asleep for nearly another one.”
“Another what? Day?”
“Month,” Linnick managed to say.
I shut my eyes. For three months, I’d been trapped in a hell of my own making; no one can punish you more effectively than you can.
“It will be months, possibly, before you have restored the chemicals in your brain to their appropriate levels.”
“How did I get out?”
“When I realized that I could not do it alone, I sought out Bill.”
“You never cease to amaze me, Linnick. In the most dangerous of worlds you let nothing hold you back.” I told her. The insides of my head were such a mess I actually cried. Couldn’t help myself. Linnick might have thought it a normal human response. Bill somehow knew better and rotated his eyes away, though, disconcertingly, left his mouth where it had been. Just to complete the damn Picasso, he’d spun his nose half way.
“You could just say thank you.” She was looking at me, trying to peer through my haze of tears.
“I am.” I blubbered. Great, here I was, big bad Marine vamp, slayer of all things supernatural, and I could not shut off the water works. I don’t know if it was better or worse that those that were witnessing my meltdown were not human. I’ve had moments throughout my history where I felt on the verge of losing control, where I was barely holding on. But right this very second, I was certain I was in the midst of a breakdown. I could no sooner tell myself what to do than I could teach a pack of rabid hyenas to fetch.
“Is the salty water leaking from your eyes normal?” Linnick asked. “It somehow makes you even uglier, if such a thing were possible.”
She’d not intended it, but that cheered me up some. “Humans crying is normal enough. Most times men, for some reason I’ve yet to figure out, don’t cry in public and definitely not me, but…” I started choking up again. “Oh, this is going to get old soon,” I said when I could.
“Food,” Bill got out. He formed that appendage thing and pointed. I couldn’t really see through the curtain of tears I had going on. I wiped furiously at my eyes willing them to dry the fuck up. When I got it down to a pinhole leak I still couldn’t see anything.
Didn’t really need to see it, though, I had some Spidey sense tingling in me. Tommy was on the hunt and actively pinging for signals. In the best of times, I would be hard pressed to block him out and yeah, I was not at the best of times.
“We have to move.” I could sit up, I wobbled like my head was still too heavy for my puny neck, but at least it wasn’t anchored to the ground.
Chapter 17
AZILE
“Mathieu, it has been over a month. We cannot stay here indefinitely.”
Mathieu looked upon Lana, he knew they could not linger forever. Denarth was in one of its happiest times, but it was not without problems; their leader could not be absent for long stretches. He was torn. His best friend lay inside, cold and lifeless. He would die many times over to help him, yet it was not within his power to do so. He could be no more than an observer in this conflict. It was difficult. He and Lana both helped with the twins while Azile performed rituals over Michael almost constantly.
“He would not want us to sit here on our hands while he was gone,” Lana said.
“In this you are right, woman. Michael was never…is not one for inaction. I will talk to Azile.”
“About what?” Azile had come out onto the porch.
Mathieu stammered.
“We cannot stay much longer,” Lana spoke up. “I have Denarth to look after.”
Azile was close to letting, “You would not have Denarth to look after if not for that man lying in there” slip out, but she bit it back. Instead she said, “I understand.” She knew it was selfish to ask them to stay longer. Their help with the children had been invaluable. She was not sure if she could watch them and watch over her husband at the same time.
“We could take Gabriel and the babies,” Mathieu spoke up and then looked at his wife to see if he’d said something out of place.
Lana’s face lit up. “That would be perfect! We could get back home and you would have the time you need!” She lightly clapped her hands.
“I cannot ask that of you.”
“You didn’t ask it of us; we offered. We love Michael; you know that we would do anything for him. Let us watch your children, Azile, that is the help we can offer,” Mathieu said.
“You are indeed good friends. Michael certainly has the fortune to surround himself with those that remain true and loyal to him.”
“The actions of his heart demand it. I would like to say that he befriended me because of those same qualities, but I think it was mainly the beer,” he smiled.
“How will you watch over Michael and yourself if we are no longer here?” Lana asked.
“I will send Sebastian back to tend to us.”
Mathieu seemed dubious but said nothing.
“And you do not need Gabriel?” Lana prodded.
“There are other ways. Obviously, it is easier with one that can naturally open a doorway, but yes it can be done.”
Within the hour, Azile had bundled the children up with their belongings and was kissing them goodbye. “I will miss you both so much.” She hugged them tightly and placed them gently in the small wagon.
“Send word when he comes back,” Mathieu said.
Concern grew in Azile’s belly as she watched Gabriel depart. The boy was the key and that she could no longer draw on his power to pull them back sat uneasily with her. Still, she waved.
It had been over two months since they’d left, and more importantly, since she’d last seen her children. She was rapidly losing hope that Michael would travel this realm with her again. He’d been gone three months on a fool’s errand; she hadn’t heard from him since those first few days, when he had gone in axe swinging. She had no idea where he was or what type of situation he was in. She received a partial answer not more than two days later.
“Azile! Remember me!?” The house shook on its very foundation.
Azile stood and looked around. The voice was coming from no single place, but seemingly from everywhere. “Ganlin?” she said softly.
“We have some issues to settle, you and I! I don’t take kindly to my neck being singed. I have been biding my time, wandering through other realms, gathering strength and waiting for my opportunity.”
She figured this would be the part where he wanted to barter Michael’s very life and soul for her own.
“You should come out from behind your barricades. I know you are close!” Azile waited a few more seconds before she started to laugh. “You don’t have him,” she said merrily. “You can’t get him and you’re getting frustrated, isn’t that it? That’s why you’re here trying to get me to show myself. You are attempting to rattle me. It won’t work.”
“I will rip him to shreds! There will be nothing left of him once I am through! Mark my words I will–”
“Please. If you could have, you
would have. You’re as pathetic down there as you are up here. Go run back to your little demon handlers and ask them to kiss your boo-boos. Perhaps if you are lucky, Michael will not seek you out to repay you for the kindnesses you bestowed upon him while he was your guest.” The Green Man’s presence had faded back into another realm.
“He is fine,” she said to herself, holding on to the first glimmer of real hope she’d had in quite a long time. “Come back to me soon.” She picked up his hands and pressed them against her face. She’d fallen asleep with her head on his chest like she had on so many previous nights. She started awake when she heard another voice. This one much closer.
“Tommy? Is that you?” He sounded faint, urgent.
“Not much time,” he said. “Do you know where Mike is?”
“Don’t you?” Anxiousness rushed up inside of her. “And why are you calling him Mike and not Mr. T?”
“We were separated.” Tommy did not answer her question; in fact, avoided it.
“Is he alright?”
“It would be better if we were together,” Tommy said.
A fat finger of doubt was riding alongside her anxiety. She found it strange that she had heard nothing from anybody in months; now, on the same day, she heard from Ganlin then Tommy. Could they somehow share an agenda? That was preposterous, wasn’t it?
“I know that you have given him aid, Azile. It is imperative that you lead him back to me.”
“That sounds more like a demand than a request, Tommy.”
“I need him!” Tommy yelled.
“For what reason? Are you working in concert with Ganlin?”
There was a pause.
“No…that’s not it,” Azile said slowly. “But you promised him Michael, didn’t you, Tomas? Give him my husband and you get your precious, twisted little sister? Was that the deal? He is…we are your family, you ungrateful little bastard! I wish your father would have smashed your head against that hearthstone hard enough to spill your diseased mind all over that dirt floor. Go fuck yourself, Tomas. You will burn for all eternity down there before I would ever give him up!” She severed the link and spent a few moments clearing her throat of the sobs that caught there and clearing her mind of the encounter she just had.
