by Al K. Line
But still, it was tempting.
Take it to The Streets
"Once again, who is this annoying man?" snapped Gavin, looking ready to do serious damage to Jake.
"And once again, you were told," warned Vicky, getting up close and putting her hands on her hips, which, if you knew Vicky, you knew meant she was serious.
"And this tiny woman, why is she looking like that? What's wrong with her eyes?" Gavin peered down at her and frowned. Vicky glared harder. "Ah, she is giving me the glare. Very, er..."
"Scary?" I ventured. "Makes you want to leave and never come back?"
"No, like I should give her a tissue." Gavin shook as if to get rid of distractions and turned back to me with renewed anger. "You must fulfill your destiny. There is little time left. Everything will end unless you take up the mantle." And blah, blah, blah, banging on about the same old thing.
"Mantle, schmantle. I told you a million times, go find some other sucker." I backed away from everyone, personal space and all that, and tried to think what to do. What options did I have? Not many, it seemed. Did I have any?
Even as I stepped away, I felt the air in the room change, become less regular, more... something else. Colder, thinner, lighter, more ethereal.
It was the other side calling, creeping up on me, insinuating itself into the cracks between this world and the next and soon it would flood in, or we would flood in there, and I didn't fancy my chances.
I ran to the window, trying to shake the book free from my cramped hands. It loosened a little and I managed to get my right hand away. With stiff fingers, I fumbled with the window, trying to wedge several shaky digits into the large gap at the bottom. With an almighty roar, I heaved and the stiff frame gave under my impressive strength, although there was a little magical assistance, and it snapped up.
With a glance down below, safety first, I leaned out and slammed my hand against the exterior stone sill. As my fingers broke, so the book was released and it fell like it weighed more than the weight of the world on my shoulders and landed with a thud followed by a billowing of nonexistent, otherworldly dust.
The boom reached up and rattled the window so ferociously I feared the glass would break. The house shook, the sky darkened, and lightning swiftly followed by thunder cracked the sky like it was the end of all things.
Clutching my broken hand, I ducked back inside only to find that Gavin had grabbed Vicky and Jake and was dragging them out of the door and undoubtedly down to retrieve the book. Why he needed them I wasn't sure, but I had to stop him, because he undoubtedly had something nasty in mind.
Hostages?
Sure, that seemed likely. After all, it was a day for hostage-taking it seemed and Jake was on a roll. I fumbled for Wand who stirred and activated dully. I felt the connection, the magic intensify, and took a little of what he offered silently and placed him gently across my broken fingers. Instantly the bone knitted together, stronger than ever, more robust. Old aches and pains I was so used to I hardly even noticed vanished as I mended. I should do this to the rest of me, only problem being I'd have to break the bones first.
"Thanks, buddy," I said silently.
"You're welcome," came a lazy voice.
What was with him? Ah, the closeness of the afterlife. It was making him remote as he couldn't be part of that world. I placed him safely back in his snug home and chased down the stairs after everyone, wishing with all my heart that Gavin would change his mind, knowing he wouldn't and that I was fast running out of time before I had no choice but to become Death if only to save everyone from limbo.
A part of me became resigned at that moment, that there didn't seem to be a way out of this and I'd had hardly a moment to come up with a resolution I would find satisfactory. What other choice did I have?
Maybe I should just point-blank refuse and let the dice fall where they may? Let everyone else fend for themselves and if it meant the end of all things then was I really to blame? Surely a system so biased, so ridiculous, and so goddamn unlikely deserved to have it all blow up? And maybe it wouldn't. Maybe this was a panic over nothing and if there was no Death then something else would happen. He might manifest from our minds and become a true Death character, not some dude who got lumbered with the job until the next poor sap stumbled into the role. It would certainly make more sense for it to happen that way. I mean, that's what we all assumed happened anyway, wasn't it?
Distracted by my wishful thinking, I found myself outside and smacking into Gavin. He scowled at me. "Sorry, wasn't looking where I was going."
"Arthur, what's it doing?" asked Vicky, who I was pleased to see was released and just staring, same as everyone else, at the book squirming on the floor.
But it wasn't the book that concerned everyone, it was the black steaming fissures spreading away from ground zero where the book had landed and sunk several inches into the concrete. Whispering smoke rose from the thin cracks, and they seemed to turn toward me, beckon with spectral fingers and reach out as if to draw me into the fast-expanding crevices.
I stepped back as new ones formed, heading away from the book in every direction. They stopped just before the building and seemed to skirt around it, but the main worry were the ones heading down the short path, across the paved front, then past the fence into the street. As they spread, they increased in speed, and each fissure deepened and split, spreading to cover the whole street in black lines within seconds.
"It's begun," said Gavin with a sigh. "This is it, the end. Everything has come to this. Things are breaking down, reality cannot cope with a cessation of the way of things, and soon the two worlds will collide until there will be no life or death, just limbo. We will all be stuck there, neither alive nor dead, nowhere to go, nothing to do. Stuck. Forever. And it is all your fault."
"Drama much?" I asked, rolling my eyes.
"This is all your fault."
I shrugged and smiled at him. "We can't all be perfect."
On The Run
Lightning struck a streetlight opposite. As thunder boomed, the metal bent near the base and the whole towering structure came angling down across the street in slow motion. I grabbed Vicky, reluctantly snatched up the book, and pushed Jake out of the way as thirty feet of metal came crashing to the ground right where we'd all been standing.
Unfortunately, Gavin dodged out of the way easily, and I couldn't see how he moved, but knew it wasn't normal reflexes. Guess a hundred years training in the arts gives you some nice moves.
We all stood there, either side of the lamppost, with thunder booming, dark clouds roiling, and the buzz of electrical cables warning us to beware.
I caught Vicky's attention and nodded off to the side. She stared at me blankly.
"What?" she asked, looking around to see if there was anything there.
"Run," I hissed. "That's the signal to run."
"Oh, right."
"Well?"
"Run?"
"Yes!" I dashed off down the street, clutching the book tight, giggling like a kid playing chase.
For the life of me I don't know why I laughed, but I guess in times of stress we all react differently.
Vicky was right there beside me, chuckling away and looking confused because none of this was funny.
Then we both lost our sense of humor as Jake sped past then slowed to keep in step.
"Where we going? Why we running?"
"I know why I am, but I sure as hell don't know why you are," I panted.
"Because that guy means business, and like I said, I want the job."
Could my day get any worse?
No, don't answer that.
Too late, we sped around the corner into a street packed with people utterly off their faces, and battled through the throngs of stoners shouting about the power having gone out. Half of them didn't even have power in the first place, but if the British are good at one thing, it's moaning about stuff even when it doesn't affect them directly.
Ah, well, at least it co
uldn't get any worse now.
We got to the end of the street, hit the main drag where the dealers did business and I'd rescued Jake earlier, and oh boy, had I been wrong.
Things could get a lot worse.
There, in the middle of the road, stood Jake's kidnappers. One with a sling, the other with cuts and bruises, and the boss with a bandage over his hand.
All of them were crouched, all of them were aiming sawn-off shotguns in our direction.
Self Help Book
"Get down!" I screamed as the boss grinned at me with pure malevolence and all three fired one after the other from extremely close range.
I shoved Vicky down by pressing on her head, and Jake was already crouching, but I knew this wasn't enough and we'd all be toast, minus our heads or other important bits, in a fraction of a second. As time slowed and I watched the cartridges explode from their casings and thousands of tiny ballistic bearings bear down on us with every likelihood of mashing bone and flesh, I acted without thinking and raised the Death Book in a protective gesture that would have appeared futile.
Like a magical shield, it flipped open and expanded until the edges spread out to infinity and beyond, cocooning us in its protective forcefield.
The metal pinged off with a dull sound like slapping wet paper. As the dealers stared, agog, I smirked as the book snapped shut and returned to its regular, if still very oversized, shape and weight. If anything, it felt lighter, and I swear I sensed a hint of smugness in its ancient leather cover as the shapes wriggled and whirled, morphing from screaming faces to happy smiles for a moment before a demonic scowl spread across the binding and a jaw opened wide as if to snap down and eat me up.
I let it hang loose in one hand and with the other I tapped Vicky on the shoulder. She opened her eyes and looked up.
I did the same to Jake who took longer to respond, was as stiff as a board.
"Am I dead? Did they blow my head off?"
"No, you idiot, you wouldn't be feeling as crap if you were dead. Or you might be if you died now, actually," I mused, unsure.
"Oh, cool. What happened?"
"They missed."
"What, all of them?" asked Vicky, knowing better than that. "Shotguns with short barrels spread their loads wide," she noted. "Although they aren't that effective at actually killing," she lectured, having undoubtedly been reading about weapons yet again. "Especially when your hands and arms are all mashed up and you can't use them properly."
"Yeah. Never play with guns, kids, they aren't safe." With those prophetic words, I reached for Wand but understood he was unresponsive before I even touched him. Instead, I set my face to extra hard and angry gangster stare and marched up to the still shocked and immobile men crouched staring at their weapons and the air in general, while they wondered what the hell just happened.
"You shouldn't shoot at people, it isn't nice," I hissed as I yanked the shotgun from the boss's hands and swung at his temple. He toppled over sideways; blood oozed from the side of his head.
The other two were on their feet now, backing away, guns hanging limp. I snatched them both up from unresisting fingers and with a flurry of action I slammed the stock down onto both their heads, knocking them onto the boss, making an untidy, if at least contained pile of crap gangsters who should know better than to screw with The Hat, especially when he was having a bad day.
With not a moment to lose, I ran back to Vicky and grabbed her arm. "Come on, what are you waiting for?" I said as I took off again.
"What about me?" shouted Jake.
"You can go home now. Don't worry, you won't see us again."
We picked up speed, sure that Gavin would be on our heels soon enough, and glancing back I wasn't wrong. He came tearing around the corner and headed straight for Jake. Jake took one look at his face and general demeanor and ignored my advice and came running after us, catching us up even though I did my best to outrun him.
"Me again," he panted, seeming to be enjoying himself a little despite the seriousness of the situation.
"Yeah, great."
"What's the plan?" he asked.
"The plan is to run away. Fast," said Vicky. "That's usually the plan."
"Absolutely," I agreed, winking at my sidekick.
So we ran, and we kept on running through streets sometimes pitch black, sometimes full of people, sometimes bright with intact streetlights, until we came to the car.
"Get in," I ordered them both, unbelievably annoyed that I'd got saddled with Jake yet again. But much as I disliked him, now wasn't the time to argue about it or leave him. Gavin would use whatever leverage he could, and I shouldn't have told Jake to go home. If for no other reason than he was Penelope's cousin, I couldn't be responsible for him being killed on my watch. It wasn't an auspicious way to begin a marriage.
So they got in, Jake in back, Vicky in front, and then I hopped in and drove away as fast as I could given the shaking of my legs and the ache in my fingers, which seemed to have returned with a vengeance now the magic repairs had worn off somewhat.
Oops
Careful of the disruption in the streets, I drove sedately until we were clear of the localized blackout that was already improving because we were leaving.
In the sanitized section of the city, we were greeted with another kind of utter insanity. Rush hour.
It was enough to make you take up drink, or join Jake in getting absolutely wasted and remaining that way until the world got its act together. We sat in interminable traffic, inching forward only to have some numpty decide they wanted to cut across lanes and sit there, holding everyone up while they talked on their phone, making another deal or just killing time.
Eventually we got clear of that too as I weaved through side roads and stayed in the residential areas off the main routes in and out of the city.
Mad as it may seem, I had no plan, no idea where to go. All I had was the book on my lap, Vicky babbling away beside me, and Jake in the rear stinking out the car and banging on about something or other when he wasn't weeping about being left by his girl and that he was sorry for stealing from me but he'd been having a hard time of it lately.
I turned and snapped, "We've all been having a hard time of it lately, you pleb. Life is hard, a struggle. Nobody knows what they're supposed to do, what the future will hold, or how to cope. We just try our best, and hold on to the happy times as best we can. What we have to do, even though it's damn hard, is try to treat each other with respect, because we know everyone is in the same boat and struggling to make sense of it all, same as we are."
I glanced in the rearview and was surprised to see Jake nodding sagely as if my words had sunk in and maybe for the first time he realized that he wasn't special or unique in his situation, that everyone had a cross to bear and life to cope with, and it was tough. It isn't meant to be easy. If life wasn't hard then how would we know when we had it good and to appreciate those times to the fullest, to live in the moment when we were laughing or being cuddled or basking in the glow of knowing we were loved and we loved in return?
Then I hit a bus.
Feeling Seven Feet Tall
The stupid driver had slammed on his brakes without warning and as hard as I pressed on the pedal the car didn't stop quite in time. With a crunch, we hit. Not hard, but enough for it to be inconvenient.
We sat, and waited, shocked more than anything, and then the planets must have aligned or something, as the driver indicated, pulled back into the quiet road, and went on his merry way.
"Damn, he didn't even notice," I said.
"Weird," said Vicky. "Normally when things happen at the worst possible time it keeps getting worse."
"You guys crash a lot, don't you?" asked Jake.
"Now and then," I said. With a shrug, and wondering what form of payback our good fortune would entail, I checked my mirrors carefully, indicated, and pulled out.
With no other ideas, I decided to go to the city house and at least have a cuppa while the world fell apart a
round me. I wasn't keen on letting Jake anywhere near it, but now wasn't the time for screwing around so I'd have to suck it up and remember to go around with the air freshener later. Change all the locks too, or sell up and buy a new house, although maybe that was taking things a little too far. Maybe.
Unwanted Guests
Feeling nervous, yet only as paranoid as usual, I took a circuitous route. In times of stress, when all you want is a cuppa and a sneaky McVities Digestive, and a sit down, it pays to be extra vigilant as that's the time the buggers will catch up with you if you make a single slip. So I weaved through streets, got snarled up in traffic where interminable roadworks held up frustrated workers itching to get home and have a stiff drink, and by the time we got several streets away and I parked, it was true evening and dark.
With the book secured in the backpack once again, and with my head spinning, my body putting in an urgent request for a lie down and maybe a little cry, before, during, or after a biscuit, I checked the streets carefully as we headed if not home then at least somewhere that was mine and familiar. Maybe even safe.
Vicky babbled about bad guys and drug dealers and men intent on stealing the Death Book, Jake babbled about anything and everything, mostly about how he couldn't believe any of this was real and was I really a wizard, and I went, "Lalala," in my head to drown out the noise. Unsuccessfully, I might add.
With a check of the wards, and the coast clear, I hurried them both inside then went through to make a cuppa while they waited in the living room. There were no biscuits, chocolate-covered or otherwise.
The peace of the kitchen was bliss. I closed the door and let the noise of the kettle boiling calm my frayed nerves. Gavin was still out there, and less amused about the whole debacle by the minute. People were counting on me, millions of them, but I didn't want to do it. Sasha had if not betrayed me, then certainly duped me. Penelope expected me to get this mess with Jake sorted out but knew nothing of this current screw-up, and Vicky was itching for a fight, or to get herself killed. Maybe both.
