Plague of Death

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Plague of Death Page 5

by D. L. Armillei


  If he was trying to fix it, he didn’t need to. Van thought he looked perfect.

  “Here, the kids who’re born with, or develop ichor, go to the special classes, they’re considered slow…well, you know.”

  Paley nudged Van, breaking her attention.

  Van saw her ex-boyfriend, Ken, wandering onto the field from the woods.

  Pernilla rushed over to greet him, so excited she hop-skipped like a child in elementary school.

  Ken had grass and dirt stains on his loose grey pants and looked both refreshed and tired after finishing Lacrosse practice. He called over to Van. “Okay if I stay? I’ll just watch.”

  Van nodded. He apparently had come to support Pernilla’s training.

  Pernilla ran her fingers through Ken’s sweat-matted hair and then rested both arms over his shoulders, paying no mind to the damp spots on his tight-fitting, grey t-shirt.

  “How cute,” Paley muttered, rolling her eyes.

  “The Alignment starts tomorrow,” Brux said in a low voice to Van and Paley. “Why hasn’t Uxa mentioned anything? Are we sneaking into Balish territory again?”

  “Uxa’s been putting me off for a year. I know we’re going over, but I don’t know why. I’m scheduled to meet with her later tonight, but I’m going to her office now. I can’t wait any longer.” Van purposely left out asking if he wanted to come as a test to see if he would invite himself.

  “I haven’t been able to get anything out of her either.” Brux frowned. “I’m going with you.”

  “Me too,” Paley said. “There’s no time left. We need answers.”

  Van agreed while she watched Ken embrace Pernilla.

  He caressed his hands up and down her back. They chatted and smiled, exchanging light kisses as if they were alone in the world.

  “Get a room,” Paley said, loud enough for only Van and Brux to hear.

  “Let them be.” Van pulled her attention away from the lovers and back to Paley and Brux. “Pernilla’s in for a rude awakening—once she finds out the adult Grigori take an oath to put the job first, Ken will be history.”

  So why bother dating anyone? Van wanted to add but didn’t want to hear a rebuttal from Paley. Or Brux.

  “Break’s over,” Van shouted. “Next up, hand-to-hand combat. Pick a partner.”

  Paley zipped over to Brux.

  “Partners?” Paley gave him a big, bright smile.

  “Sure.” Brux smiled back.

  Between watching Ken and Pernilla being lovey-dovey and Brux and Paley flirting, Van felt an ensuing wave of grouchiness coming on. She couldn’t care less about Ken. However, Brux—his constant presence annoyed her. She didn’t like him living on the island or sitting near her in class. It wasn’t like she wanted a boyfriend. She had no time to fool around. But after watching Brux and Paley, she became acutely aware of something: if Brux couldn’t be her boyfriend, then she didn’t want him to be anyone’s boyfriend.

  She sighed, trying to grasp the reasoning as to why the Elementals chose Brux as her assigned protector. Brux took his position seriously. That meant Van had no chance at a relationship with him. She trusted the Elementals knew what they were doing.

  But, why did it feel so…wrong?

  Pernilla unglued herself from Ken and, like magnets, Maren and Pernilla chose to partner with each other.

  “No, no, no.” Van marched toward the duo waving her hands. “You two together? No, you won’t learn anything. You’ll just goof off.” Van eyed the others in the class. “Pernilla, you pair with Deacon.”

  “That leaves me without a partner,” Maren huffed.

  “You’ll pair with me,” Van said.

  Pernilla snickered. “Good luck with that, Maren.”

  Van ignored her and barked, “Get into position.”

  The couples snapped into fighting stances, except Maren who had no clue what to do.

  “Begin,” Van said to the class.

  The other students started sparring.

  Maren copied their postures and faced Van. “I know you’re trying to leave me out.” She fumed.

  Van responded by getting into fighting position, knees bent, hands raised.

  “You think I should sit on the sidelines with Ken,” Maren said as she and Van circled each other. “You and all your warrior crap about who’s a real warrior and who’s not.”

  Van snorted. She inwardly shook her head in disgust. Last year Pernilla and Maren had made fun of Van for being in the reservation program, calling it classes for stupid kids. But once Pernilla got sick and added into the special classes—and experienced how recharging in the Living World helped alleviate her illness—she never stopped bragging about being a student in reservation program. All year, Maren wanted in too.

  Maren lurched forward and took a swipe at Van.

  Van easily dodged out of the way. “Your swing is too wide. Try again.”

  Poor Maren. Van could tell she felt left behind because her best friend had earned a coveted permanent placement on the reservation side of the island, working with the Grigori and the Elders. Maren and Pernilla were headed down two different life tracks. Maren’s awareness of the inevitable end of her friendship with Pernilla was the cause of her anger, not Van.

  Maren flew at Van waving both of her fists.

  In one swoop, Van stepped aside, grabbed one of Maren’s arms, straightened her leg to trip Maren, and used her opponent’s momentum to toss Maren to the ground. “Watch your form.”

  Pernilla risked glancing over and yelled, “Maren! Get up. Try again—oof.” She took a hit to the chest as Deacon used her divided attention to his advantage.

  Pernilla didn’t like Deacon’s cheap shot and fought back in a fury.

  “You go, girl.” Ken’s proud smile beamed from the sidelines.

  Maren snorted and glared at Van. She rose. Cheeks flushed, jaw clenched.

  “Control your moves,” Van instructed.

  Maren’s nostrils flared as she curled her fists into balls.

  “Take it easy. This is training. Don’t knock yourself out—or let me do it.” Van snickered. She couldn’t help herself.

  Maren flushed a deep red to the tips of her ears, sweat beaded her forehead. Without using any kind of form, she charged at Van in a feral rage.

  Van dodged. “Calm yourself,” she said, unable to hide her growing frustration with Maren.

  “Argh!” Maren charged again.

  Van stepped aside and, again, tripped Maren.

  She crashed onto the grass. Then immediately jumped to her feet and lunged at Van.

  “Enough.” Brux caught Maren around her waist.

  Maren squirmed against Brux’s grip as he placed her feet on the ground but held firm.

  The others stopped training to watch the spectacle.

  “You’re burning up,” Brux said, surprised.

  Maren stopped struggling and said, “I don’t feel so good.”

  Van placed the back of her hand on Maren’s forehead. “You feel hot.”

  “She has a fever?” Pernilla furrowed her brow in concern.

  Maren looked terribly pale. Her eyes rolled into her head, and she slumped into Brux’s arms.

  Chapter 6

  Maren remained semi-conscious and burning with a fever the whole time the group carried her to Providence Island General Hospital.

  As soon as they arrived, Maren was admitted and whisked away to a room. Pernilla took the responsibility of calling Maren’s parents using the hospital’s Inter-Island Connect landline. Shortly afterward a doctor strolled into the waiting area and told them Maren had appendicitis.

  “She’ll be fine,” he said. “Go home and get some rest.”

  Pernilla and Ken decided to stay at the hospital and wait for Maren’s parents. Brooke, Davy, Wade, Adrian, and Deacon bid their goodbyes and well-wishes and went home. Van, Paley, and Brux no longer believed their presence was needed or wanted, so they left the hospital, too.

  The hospital was located in an area the i
slanders called “downtown.” The part around Oceanview Avenue that had banks, hardware stores, Big Wheels Buggy Rentals, a couple of beauty salons, a mechanic, and the like. The trio decided to grab a snack and Paley also wanted to check out some of the boutiques.

  “We need to go see Uxa, find out what we’re doing tomorrow.” Van reminded them.

  Brux stopped walking. “We can head there right now if you want.”

  “She always waits until the last second to tell us anything.” Paley playfully grabbed Brux’s arm and tugged. “Let’s go downtown for a bit.”

  “True.” Van continued walking. “And I’ve been really pestering her about our next visit to—well, you know.” Although no-one else seemed to be around, she didn’t think it wise to say “Living World” out loud.

  “Uxa has her reasons for keeping quiet,” Brux said. “I’ve asked her several times, too.”

  The trio continued down Rudder Road; Paley chatted about the local sales.

  “I definitely want to stop at the Nifty Nook,” she said. “They’re having a Jaychund sale. Everything is thirty percent off.”

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Brux said to Van.

  “Appendicitis?” Van said, skeptically.

  Paley nudged Van with her elbow. “Can’t you ever go with the flow?”

  “Appendicitis gives you pain on the right side.” Van pushed her lower right abdomen. “She didn’t have pain there.”

  “Well, she was really sick,” Paley said. “Whatever she has, I hope she’ll be okay.”

  Van shrugged. “It’s probably just a bug.”

  By the look on Brux’s face, he seemed to take Van’s concern seriously. “Why are you so sure it’s not appendicitis?”

  “I’m not.” Van glanced at the sky. “She’ll be shipshape in no time.” Thick gray clouds cloaked the sun, casting a shadow over the street like a funeral shroud.

  “She’s in good hands.” Brux curiously followed Van’s glance toward the cloudy sky. Not seeing anything unusual he continued. “Once you get stuck on something you never let it go. You could turn the tides with your will.”

  Paley twisted her hair. “You don’t think she’s contagious, do you?”

  “What’d I tell you?” Brux extended his hand toward Paley, to illustrate that she had proven his point.

  “If she is, we all have it,” Van said, as they turned onto Oceanview Avenue. “There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

  Brux wrapped a comforting arm around Paley. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

  Delighted, Paley grinned.

  “Yeah, we have a different kind of invasion to worry about.” Van grimaced at the mob of people roaming the sidewalk. The restaurants and shops were packed with mainlanders who had infiltrated their downtown like a virus spreading across their small island.

  The quaint downtown consisted of one main road with many side streets and hadn’t changed in appearance since, well, ever. It had been built to support the island’s inhabitants, not the influx of visitors who came for the annual Jaychund Festival.

  The invaders were allowed to stay for the long holiday weekend, but not anyone could set foot on the island. All boats to and from the docks were controlled by the Elders, and all visitors were screened and pre-approved by the Grigori. This process took place all the time, not only during Jaychund.

  Occasionally throughout the year, Van glimpsed black-suit types wandering down the streets. Visitors from the government made sense since the Grigori were a division of Homeland Security, giving them high-level national security clearance. But for this year’s Jaychund Festival, Van noticed more black-suits than in previous years.

  Even fifty extra visitors was a lot for their downtown, never mind a hundred. Hardly any vehicles were used on the island, most people walked everywhere, so the visitors cluttered the streets and the sidewalks. Her vexation over the intruders dissipated as she heard loud, animated, voices along a side street. It sounded like some boys were up to no good.

  The trio followed the sounds of the ruckus and came upon a handful of elementary school boys. All of them clutched water balloons and were circled around an adult Van immediately recognized. She didn’t know his last name, all the islanders simply called him Bicycle Bob.

  Bob had a learning disability, and not the kind fixed by a rejuvenating trip to the Living World. For as long as Van could remember, Bicycle Bob riding his old red bike along the roads had been a cherished fixture in their community. As a ward of the island, he remained under the care of the Elders. But, due to the overflow of visitors from the holiday weekend, the Elders along with island security were overworked and stretched thin. A lapse noticed by the trouble-seeking boys.

  Van marched over, Brux and Paley right behind her.

  “M-my b-bike! My b-bike!” Bob cried. He held his arms over his head as the boys whipped water balloons at him.

  Bob’s beloved red bike was next to him on the sidewalk. He curled his body, trying to bend over it in a pathetic attempt to protect it from the barrage of water balloons while still protecting his head.

  One of the boys hovered his foot over the bike. “What? This?” He kicked it off the sidewalk and into the street.

  Another boy mocked, “Oh! My bike! My bike!” He sniggered.

  “Looser!” a third boy said as he grabbed another water balloon from his backpack.

  All five had backpacks stuffed with water balloons. Causing trouble had apparently been on their agenda.

  “Retard!” one of the boys said as he chucked a water balloon at Bob’s head.

  The boys guffawed, having the time of their lives at Bob’s peril.

  “Stop it!” Van screamed as Brux brushed past her.

  Paley’s fingers zipped to her mouth, and she began chewing on her cuticles.

  Brux grabbed the closest two boys by the back of their collars. “You think you’re funny?” He crashed their skulls together causing a loud crack. “How’s that for funny?” He chucked them to the ground.

  Van dashed over to Bob and helped him back to his feet. She glared at the boys. “You’re a bunch of jerks!”

  “Who’s next?” Brux roared. He towered over the boys by at least triple their size. His eyes met one of them. “You?” He took a step toward the boy and the whole group scattered. Even the two boys who were still dazed from their skull-bashing managed to scramble onto their feet and run.

  Paley rubbed Bob’s back. “Are you all right?”

  Van brushed his wet bangs from his eyes.

  “Th-tha-th—” Bob’s trembling made his stutter worse. “Th-thank you.”

  “Let’s get you home,” Van said. All the islanders knew the basics about each other, including where Bob lived, a studio apartment in Hide-a-way. She rubbed his drenched arms trying to get him warm, but he continued to shiver from the trauma.

  “You’re safe now,” Brux said.

  This triggered something in Bob. He tensed, and his face grew pink as he strained to find his words. “N-not n-not.” His stutter got worse which made him more distressed. “N-not n-not.” He grasped Van’s arms and locked his doleful, hazel eyes with her blue ones. “Not safe! N-not safe!”

  “What you do mean?” Van grew concerned. “Are you telling me you’re not safe?”

  This upset him even more. Spittle flew from his mouth as he tried to get his point across. “Y-you. P-Paley. N-not safe. Stay s-stay a-away from th-the T-twin G-gemstones! Th-they m-make you g-go. S-stay a-away fr-rom—”

  Bob’s eyes moved beyond Van, up the side road to the main street. He suddenly got twitchy. “O-okay. O-okay.” He picked up his bike, nodding his head. “O-okay.”

  Van looked to see what had spooked Bob. She glimpsed a man in a dark suit standing at the opening of the side road. At first, Van thought he had also heard the commotion and stopped to see if they needed help. But as soon as she noticed the man, he turned away and disappeared into the bustling visitors on the main street.

  She turned back to Bob to ask wh
at bothered him, but he had already mounted his bike.

  He hastily peddled away.

  “Wait!” Van cried.

  “Poor guy.” Brux shook his head in sorrow. What a horrible life.”

  “How does he know about the Twin Gemstones?” Van asked.

  “He’s really messed up. There’s no way we can ask him,” Brux said.

  “We should check on him later,” Van said. “Or at least, let Uxa know what happened.”

  Paley stopped chewing her cuticles and smiled at Van. “So you do have feelings.”

  “Doing what’s right doesn’t have anything to do with feelings.” Van took a breath to calm her irritation and then continued. “Taking action based on good decisions without an emotional handicap must be considered to be a good warrior.”

  “What book did you read that in?” Paley said as she flipped her hair.

  “It’s never good to suppress your feelings,” Brux said. “Feelings connect us to nature, to the continuity of life.”

  Van rolled her eyes. Brux ignored it and continued to drive his point. Into her brain. Like a spike.

  “Your connection to nature is what gives you power as a warrior. It’ll stop you from feeling so lonely and isolated.”

  Van wanted to scream at his offensive “helpful” advice. Instead, she held a poker face. No way would she allow him to see the turmoil raging inside her, caused by his words. Brux, the love of her life—that she could never be with—had counseled her on how not to be lonely. It was tough to take.

  She stormed ahead, back to the main street.

  “Know the difference between what you want and what you choose,” he cried. “The best advice is worthless if you don’t take it.”

  Van heard Paley say to Brux, “Makes sense to me.”

  Van tsked, disgusted by the whole thing. She weaved into the crowd so she could ditch her friend and her “protector.” Paley and Brux could have each other. She just wanted to be left alone.

  Friends were nothing but emotional distractions. They ate away at time better focused on warrior training. She’d be better off not hanging out with them anymore. Except they were most likely part of her team to the Living World again this year, which reminded Van to get her butt over to Uxa’s office on the reservation.

 

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