Iris

Home > Christian > Iris > Page 2
Iris Page 2

by Michael Horton


  ***

  Hugh and I got on rather well for the next few days. We found what appeared to be an abandoned shack on the outskirts of the city, and decided to call it our base of operations. Fort Iris. It was a good name.

  He agreed to remain by my side at all times, and to use his gift only for good. To be frank, I never excelled much in the way of combat, and my strength had not fully returned, so I welcomed Hugh’s assistance in the event of a sudden attack. In exchange, I allowed him to tell me his life’s story, about his estranged wife and the daughter who wanted nothing to do with him.

  “It was the day of her graduation,” he said. “As I saw it, it was the last chance I had to make things right with her. To show her and her mom that I care, and I’d always be there for them.”

  “I assume this has something to do with your revenge?” I asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor of Fort Iris. He hadn’t yet told me the reason behind his anger, but I already had an idea.

  He grunted in reply. “There was an accident. Her car was totaled, and Gwen didn’t… my daughter didn’t survive.”

  “So who do you blame?”

  He held his chin in a thick leather glove and shook his head. “Myself, some days. But I know it wasn’t me. And it wasn’t anything she did. It was a reaper, I’m sure of it.”

  “Did you know about us before you met me?”

  “Somewhat. Talking to you was all the confirmation I needed that something else had happened to her. The autopsy showed that Gwen was dead prior to the accident. Even with the way the car wrapped around that pole, there was just too much carnage. I refuse to believe—”

  Ka-thwack!

  A normal human would have frozen at a sudden banging noise only feet away, but Hugh jumped into a combat-ready stance and attuned his senses. The event that took his first life left him with a unique and powerful ability. Hugh Gardner, even with his incomplete form, had the power to channel compression blasts in his fists. In layman’s terms, he could punch with the force of a literal explosion, and launch volleys of high compression besides. This led to some intriguing test results, but he’d yet to try this ability on any living targets.

  Something crunched through the snow outside. “Footsteps?” I whispered, rising to my feet.

  He nodded and raised a finger without looking at me. One person, he signaled.

  “It could be a reaper,” I warned.

  “Can never be too careful.” The door groaned as Hugh pushed it open.

  A shriek echoed through the brisk winter air. I ran to Hugh’s side and peered up into two mismatched—but equally terrified—eyes.

  “Jasper!” the girl cried. “Come quick!”

  “What did you hear?” Hugh asked, and by the air distorting around his right hand I knew he was prepared to handle the consequences of a human knowing “too much.”

  “Stand down, Hugh. She’s no threat to us.” I tugged at his coat and pulled him back into the room before he could do any damage. He was no small man—at least two hundred pounds, most of it muscle—but he still yielded to the strength of a reaper.

  The slender, long-haired girl stared down at me. I scolded myself for not showing a bit more restraint. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed my demonstration of might, but I had neglected to wear my “little girl” persona in front of a human. Hugh and I had agreed, while we were in public, to act as father and daughter. It was an easier act to pull off than the orphan routine I’d grown accustomed to, but it still had its flaws.

  Throwing your father into a shed with minimal effort, for example, held little weight in their reality.

  The girl’s body tensed. She looked at something just out of view before staring back at me. “Why are you living in our tool shed?”

  “You pose an excellent question,” I replied. We just might have to kill her.

  “What’s going on?” asked a boy whose face mirrored the girl’s. He brushed the snow from a splintered wooden sword.

  “These guys are living in our shed!” She jabbed a finger in our direction.

  The boy looked up into the corners and around Fort Iris as though he was searching for something. “I guess I haven’t checked out here in a while.”

  “We’re sorry,” Hugh said from behind me. “We thought this place was unoccupied.”

  “Well, it’s not.” The boy looked him in the eye. “It’s on our property, actually. Didn’t you see the house?”

  Hugh glared at me, but now was hardly the time for pointing fingers. Humans were petty about their property, but it was nothing compared to the territorial nature of reapers. Many were known to kill any and all who threatened their “food supply.” I had to imagine the Fallen Star was such a reaper, before she became a murderous nomad.

  “I’m sure we can explain,” I said. “Would you like to come in?”

  The girl made a face. “It’s our shed.”

  It’s actually been commandeered as Fort Iris, I thought, but I knew my place. One did not assimilate with humans by picking needless fights with them.

 

‹ Prev