by J Bennett
“Come on,” he says again.
I peel off my glove and reach through Gabe’s glowing aura to take his hand. Our fingers interlace. The orbs push up with a mad insistence, but I keep the skin of my palms anchored down. This is pain burning toward implosion. If I could transfer this agony into a scream, I think the moon would hear it.
“I’m trusting you with my life right now,” Gabe says softly. “It’s because I believe you’re not an angel. It’s because I want to help you. Tarren and I are the only ones who understand what you’re going through. We’re the only ones who can protect you from Grand. And together, we’re going to defeat him and all the other angels.”
There is nothing harder, nor more painful than not killing Gabe right now. With a guttural moan, I tear my hand from his grip, stagger away from his pulsing energy and press my palms against the front of my legs. I taste blood where I’ve bitten through my lip. The tears are hot on my cheeks, dripping off my chin.
“It’s…all too much,” I gasp. My body is so exhausted from the strain that I can hardly stand. “I can’t do this. None of it even makes sense.”
“My brother and I have been fighting our whole lives,” Gabe says, “and we’ve seen awful things Maya. Things I can’t even begin to describe. And we’ve lost a lot, just like you. But just because bad things happen doesn’t mean the fight isn’t worth fighting. And it doesn’t mean we can’t find some measure of happiness even so. You’re my sister, and I’m going to protect you. I won’t let you slip. I won’t let you fall. Tarren is working on an antidote, and he’s a fucking genius, so he’ll figure it out soon. We won’t let Grand touch you. Ever again.” Gabe walks over to Tarren. The brothers clasp arms, and Gabe pulls Tarren up off the ground.
“No more cuffs,” Gabe says. “Ever. From now on we trust each other. All of us. We’re the only family we’ve got left. Agreed?”
The silence stretches, and I watch small sparks of energy scurrying along the tree limbs. Luminous eyes blink, curious at my plight.
“Agreed,” Tarren mutters. They both look to me. I can still hear the highway close by. I could beat them to it, though whether to flag down a motorist or throw myself in front of an eighteen-wheeler, I don’t know.
“Okay,” I whisper.
* * *
It takes Tarren fifteen minutes to find his gun in the thick brush around us. We walk back in silence, keeping to a slow pace so Gabe can nurse his twisted ankle. He runs his fingers through his hair trying to tame the wild strands. Tarren is sulky and silent.
Just before we make it back to the motel, I find a stray cat wandering the empty streets. The boys wait. It hisses as I approach.
Afterwards, I curl up on the sidewalk, rocking back and forth and shuddering with the need to keep feeding. The song rears up so loud it drowns out everything but the certainty that I must hold back. My entire body is tight and sore and aflame with hunger. I am so utterly alone in this.
I stand up, dizzy and weak, and drop the cat’s body into an alleyway dumpster.
“See? Easier.” Gabe says.
One by one, we slip back through the open window to our room. We take turns washing our feet off in the tub. Gabe and I go to our beds, and Tarren lies back down on the floor. We all close our eyes and pretend to sleep. I cannot know what they are thinking, but their minds must be laced with doubts. I try to ignore the song and what it tells me to do. Instead, I find Ryan in my thoughts and conjure ways to make him smile.
Chapter 17
“I’ll be fine,” I say. Sunlight filters through the window, and I turn my face toward it.
“Sure?” Gabe asks. He’s sitting on the bed with his laptop open in front of him.
“Yeah, but next time I pick the color.” I hold up the box of hair dye. “Colorsilk Burgundy,” I purr with a lavish accent that earns me a hesitant smile. We’re both playing nice, and Tarren was good enough to go “check on things” as soon as it got close enough to dawn.
The scissors have a sharp sic to them as they shear away my long locks. The metaphor is too simplistic: a physical transformation that embodies the inner evolution. Sic. De-evolution? Perhaps it depends on who you ask. A life gone. I thought I was doing okay. A new life. Definitely not okay. As not okay as can be imagined. Sic. No. This is unimaginable. This is bordering on sci-fi graphic novel without the huge tits and witty comebacks. Sic. This is fire and fears and a terrible face I can’t get out of my mind. This is the loss of everything. Sic. The hair swings back just beneath my chin.
I pause halfway through the haircut so that I can be both the old me and the new me at the same time. This will be our only meeting. I should have prepared something appropriate for the funeral and for the welcome party.
Some last words on human Maya: She had problems but was dealing alright in what I believe is a very difficult world no matter who you are or where you come from. Maya enjoyed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches very much. She was on the track team in high school, even though she wasn’t very fast and had a tendency to develop shin splints halfway through each season. She used to hate Sarah Hendrickson until they became best friends. Then Sarah got pregnant and stopped hanging out.
Maya had a mother who treated her alright between bouts of asthma, panic attacks, suspected gout and a strange taste in her mouth that was almost certainly indicative of a malignant brain tumor. Maya even had a dad who would say “hey there kid” when they passed each other on the roads of their very separate lives. He always bought her awesome Christmas presents.
Now a few words to introduce Monster Maya: She prefers raw alley cats to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She’s not on the track team anymore, which is a shame considering that she can run fast now. Real fast. She doesn’t have any friends, but she does have two brand new brothers. They are both very goal-oriented individuals and talented in select weaponry. Gabe tries too hard to be funny. He’s overcompensating for something; possibly that his hobby includes regularly killing people or that he has to hang out with the world’s most morose person every day. Which brings us to Tarren. Monster Maya might get to help him with some science experiments if he doesn’t kill her first. Or she doesn’t kill him. It’s really all up in the air at this point.
One last thing about Monster Maya. She doesn’t have a mother anymore, but she does have a father. Theirs is a somewhat strained relationship. It’s the typical father-daughter trope. He wants her in the family business. She has other plans. He’s looking for water under the bridge. She will find a way to destroy him. Brutally. Possibly involving guns or daggers or throwing stars, or her bare hands. Monster Maya doesn’t get shin splints anymore.
Sic, sic, sic. One more lock of hair dangling behind my left ear. Sic.
I sit on the toilet, eyes watering as my hair absorbs the potent chemicals. I am now convinced that Ryan and I were desperately in love. Engaged practically, though the topic never came up. I cannot recall a single argument between us. He had not one bad habit that got on my nerves. Our time together is ringed with soft white lighting around the edges. His voice was always soft, full of endearments. Our relationship was filled with laughter, adventure and great sex that never got awkward or just a tiny bit boring sometimes.
This leads me to my second train of thought: How I will kill Grand. The aforementioned daggers, throwing stars and bare hands are considered, but what I must really plan is the winning condemnation I will lay upon his dying ears. Something grave, deep and utterly cutting which will elevate my victory to heroic, bard-singing levels. I throw open the bathroom door and ask Gabe for a pen and paper. Holding his nose, he obliges, and here is what I come up with:
This is for Ryan!
Short, simple, poignant, yet cliché.
You wanted a daughter? Well, you got one!
Upon further reflection, this one doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.
You took everything from me, the man I loved, even my own humanity. It’s only fair that I return the favor.
I imagine deliveri
ng this in a half-choked whisper as I twist the dagger I have already plunged into his chest.
Eventually, I settle on something different. Each word is memorized instantly, though I plan on repeating them to myself every night before I fall asleep. Just so that I’m ready when the moment comes. They will become my mantra — an invocation of the hate and vengeance that have filled this new hollowed body I own. It feels good to have a purpose.
These are the words I will say as Grand gurgles his last blood-soaked breath at my feet:
“Everything you ever stood for will be forgotten. I will bury your body so deep in the ground that no one will ever dig you up. I’ll rid this world of every single one of your angels of death. I will soak your dreams in blood and burn them to ash. There won’t be a speck of you left, and the world will be a better place for it. Goodbye Father.”
I step into the shower and raise up my face to the spray of water. Monster Maya smiles for the first time.
Part 2
Chapter 18
Rust blooms across the sign pointing to Farewell, Colorado. It must be a strange weed the locals haven’t figure out how to kill. I see it climbing up the buildings, sneaking under windowsills and lacing dusty cars sitting on the side of the road.
I put down Gabe’s PSP and look out the window. Farewell is a battered town, holding itself together with stubborn grit. An old town of old men and old women grown gray together.
The temperature is dropping quickly as evening sets in. I can feel the air thinning, and I wonder if I would have noticed before, or if this is another new thing I can do better. I keep forgetting not to think.
“It don’t stand out, that’s for sure,” Gabe says from the front seat. He crosses his arms behind his head. “Like all superheroes, we’ve got to live on the down low.”
Tarren makes a noise in the back of his throat. I keep my gaze out the window, noting a Mom & Pop antique shop pressed between a KFC and a boxy off-colored Walgreens. The stores dry up, and the road becomes more playful, sneaking cracks and potholes under our wheels. Bushy fir trees hug in close to the road, and I catch swatches of larger houses set far back into wooded lots. Sometimes thin mailboxes peeking from the foliage are the only flag of life.
“Farewell to civilization,” Gabe says with a laugh. “Lots of retirees come out here. Land is cheap. No one bothers you. Just get yourself a Life Alert system and you’re golden.”
“Francesca’s out,” Tarren murmurs.
Gabe perks up in his seat, and so do I, responding instantly as his aura pulses bright violet streaks. “My hat.”
“Eh?” Tarren says.
“The lucky one.”
“Ah yes, the lucky one.”
“Maya, quick!” Gabe twists around in his seat to hammer me with his eyes. “My bag. It’s in my bag.”
I stare at his energy, at that purple saturation, with longing.
“Slow down you fucker,” Gabe hisses to Tarren. Then, “Come on Maya. Team effort.”
I unbuckle my seatbelt and pull the seat down to access the trunk.
“Brown duffle bag.”
“I know,” I say as I grab the strap.
“We’ve got to be careful,” Tarren begins.
“Your jealousy of our love is pitiful,” Gabe retorts as I toss the bag to him. He rifles through it as the car slows. “Plus, Dr. Lee’s a total hermit. No TV, no newspapers. The world could be enslaved by intergalactic overlords and he wouldn’t even notice. Ah!” Gabe exclaims as he wrestles the dingy white hat from his bag.
I look out and see a neat cabin bordered by looming pine and spruce. A thick carpet of orange pine needles covers the ground, and an American flag rustles from a protruding deck. A woman is tipping a large watering can over the window box flowers. I notice right away that she is shamelessly over imbued with good features. Clearly she got to the body part bins before all the other little kids. I imagine her taking off with long tan legs, butterfly lashes, pink lemonade lips and glossy black hair while I elbow through the crowds trying to find something with a little less warts on it.
Tarren stops the car and Gabe — hat in place — presses the window button. When his window doesn’t budge, he turns to his brother.
“If you try to keep us apart, I will kill you. I swear it. In your sleep. You have to sleep Tarren.”
Tarren smiles a handsome big brother smile, and the window goes down. The air carries scents of pine sap and loose soil.
“Francesca!” Gabe calls out to her. He tosses his bag at me, and I manage to catch it just before it plows into my face. The woman turns and waves, presenting a round face, smooth, coffee-colored skin and a sheen of blue-emerald energy pulsing with vitality. Utterly shameless.
“Buongiorno,” Gabe says, grinning as she approaches.
Francesca’s smile belongs on a box of teeth whitener. She sets the watering container next to her foot and leans against the mailbox.
“Buongiorno Gabe. Hi Tarren. You boys back in town, eh? Good tradeshow?” Her voice is threaded with a light accent that extenuates her o’s and r’s almost like she’s purring. “Oh, Tarren, your face. What happened this time?”
“Got punched out on the show floor by one of our clients,” Gabe jumps in. “Terribly embarrassing, but I did end up selling the guy 160 licenses of our data management software upgrade. Broke a company record actually, but who’s counting.”
Francesca crosses her arms over her chest. “Why are you always so mean to your big brother, huh? He watches out for you. He does good, honest work here. Always polite. Not a mean bone in his body. Right, Tarren?”
“Right,” Tarren nods. I almost choke on my spit.
“Did you know that he drowns baby kittens?” Gabe says. “It’s his only passion in life.”
“Gabe!” Francesca exclaims. “Always lies and that big smile. Oh.” Francesca sees me through the window. “Hello.”
“Hi,” I say and make a genuine effort to keep my gaze affixed to her face instead of the beautiful waves of energy that cloak her body.
“This is our cousin Maya,” Tarren says. He keeps his tone casual. “She just got out of school and is staying with us for a while.”
“Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you, but you better watch out for this one,” Francesca nods towards Gabe. “He thinks he’s sooo cute and clever.”
“Lies,” Gabe says. “I’m incredibly handsome and clever.” His energy is fluttering like humming bird wings. The purple shades grow dark as wine. I force myself not to stare.
“How is Dr. Lee doing?” Tarren asks.
“Okay,” Francesca turns toward the house. “Grumpy as ever. The summer is better for him. He goes outside to read during the day. He likes to be in the sun.”
“Me too,” I say for no reason.
“Looks like the lawn needs some work,” Tarren says. He gives me a warning glare through the rearview mirror.
“Yeah,” Francesca tugs on her jean skirt. “Come by any time Tarren. There’s always something to do. Raking up all these pine needles. Then a good mow and putting in seeds. Whenever you have time. We always need help keeping this place together.”
“You’re doing a great job,” Gabe says. “Dr. Lee is lucky to have a girl like you helping him out.”
“He has a good heart,” Francesca says, and her voice softens. “He respects you so much Tarren, and he still speaks of your mother sometimes. She sounds like an amazing person.”
“She was,” Tarren says. His energy flicks. “Tell Dr. Lee ‘hello’ from me and my brother. I’ll give him a call when we get settled. We gotta get some groceries and supplies in the morning. Make up a list of what you need, and I’ll pick it up while I’m in town.”
“Okay,” Francesca says. She shivers, and I watch goose bumps pattern along her arms and legs. I watch her energy too. And Tarren’s. Mostly Gabe’s, though. Still humming bird wings.
“Well, it’s always good to have you boys back. I hope you stay for a while this time,” Francesca says.
&nbs
p; “Hard to say,” Tarren replies. He turns the engine on.
“Nice to meet you Maya.” She raises her hand in greeting.
“Yeah,” I say.
“See ya!” Gabe calls after her even as Tarren closes the windows. When the car moves on, Gabe falls back against the seat.
“She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s in love with me,” he says.
“I could tell that she totally wanted you,” I respond.
“In the worst kind of way,” Gabe confirms. He twists around in his seat, so that his bright eyes are peering at me. The smile hasn’t left his face.
“When this is all over, I’m going to marry her. We’re gonna’ have beautiful children. And wild sex. Twice a day.”
* * *
The road gives way to gravel, and the Murano’s tires dig in. Shadows from the trees sweep over us in bands. We turn into a long driveway.
“Don’t miss your line,” Tarren says to his brother.
“Oh yeah,” Gabe sighs. “Home sweet home.”
I gaze out through the windshield, and the only thing I can think is, I already had a home.
Chapter 19
The house of the Fox brothers stamps a generous footprint across a scraggly plot of land. Gray brick meets green siding at the second story, just above the garage. The paint is peeling and rust eats its way up the gutters. The front lawn is made up of patches of long crab grass with bright dandelion heads peeking out from their midst.
“Ready?” Gabe asks me.
“Sure,” I lie. I want to stay in the car. Forever. I want to not be thinking of my apartment and all the books gathering so much dust. Avalon mocking on the wall. Ryan not there. The ghosts of my dreams rattling chains and moaning softly.
Gabe and Tarren shoulder their bags and tromp into the house. I follow timidly and stop just inside the door.
