by R. A. Gates
popped him in the nose as quickly as a
viper strikes its prey.
“Bitch.” He said, using his
forearm to wipe the blood from his face.
“You say that like it's a bad
thing.”
He pulled his dagger from his
belt, obviously done playing around. She
gripped hers tighter.
After endless minutes of evading
his knife and trying to get close enough
to cut him, she felt like she was fighting
with logs instead of arms. Her breathing
doubled. Could lungs shrink? She
struggled to take in air as she bobbed
and weaved. Her plan was backfiring.
Each swing of his blade was
faster, harder, sharper. Determination
blazed in his eyes. Doubt whispered
about in her head. When he sliced her
arm, the whispers became shouts.
Thankfully her sweatshirt took most of
the damage, but not all.
She gritted her teeth and ignored
the sting.
Stay focused.
How long could she keep up this
pace? Neglected muscles burned. Joints
screamed in agony.
Man, I need to work out. She
could barely lift her lead foot above her
waist in what was supposed to be an
awesome front kick. Instead, she’d have
to be satisfied with leaving a dirty
footprint on his pant leg.
He stopped and peered down to
his pants. “And I thought fighting a Weed
would be challenging.”
A Weed. She cringed inward at
the derogatory term. Using her magic to
fight didn’t even occur to her. But it was
too late now. She was exhausted from
using the stone and from the humiliating
beating she was taking.
Before she could react, Red
slammed into her and knocked her to the
dirt. A scream echoed off the trees— her
scream. Pain radiated through her back
when
she
back-flopped
on
the
unforgiving ground. She did the same
move in a neighbor’s pool once and it
felt just as excruciating.
She raised her arms to block his
attack. But when he lunged at her, his
body stopped in mid-air and then flew
backwards.
Garren. Relief flooded her
system. But he wasn’t there. Instead,
Sparky flapped his wings and spat fire at
the Eradicator now on the ground.
Holy moly. She rolled off the
ground— ignoring her body’s protests—
to help subdue Red. He was shuffling on
his back in an attempt to avoid the
sparks. A couple times the dragon spit
blue flames at the man, almost catching
his pants on fire. But because she didn’t
want to deal with roasted Eradicator,
she grabbed a roll of tape from her pack
and then tied his hands and feet together
while Sparky kept guard.
The red-head struggled to get
free. “Don’t be a fool, Ivy. Rousseau
will get you, one way or another. Come
peacefully and your friends won’t be
hurt.”
“Oh, sure. Just wait while I
gather my stuff.” She rolled her eyes as
she checked out her little body guard.
She squatted and reached her hand out,
hoping that his heroics meant they were
friends now.
The dragon stretched out his neck
and sniffed her fingers. She kept
perfectly still as hope swelled in her
chest. Just as she thought she might be
able to actually touch him, the little
dragon snapped back with a sneeze. She
jumped back, flames torching the ground
in front of her. He shook his head and
sniffled.
Great, he’s allergic to me. She
regarded the creature with her hands on
her hips. At least he was on her side.
“I don’t know if you understand
me or not, but watch him,” she said as
she pointed to the tied-up Eradicator.
Sparky shifted his gaze to the prisoner
and growled like a proud junk yard dog.
She crouched next to Red, her
dagger pointed to his throat. “I don’t
think you need these.” She removed the
stakes and other weapons he had hidden
on his body and then tossed them into her
pack.
A loud screamed bounced off the
trees and pierced her heart. She froze.
“That didn’t sound like Phil,” the
Eradicator said, a smile pulling at his
mouth. “Must be one of your Weeds.”
She didn’t stick around to argue.
She ran as fast as she could to where she
last left the guys, dread fueling her feet
faster as she leaped over logs and
bushes.
Please, don’t be dead. Please,
don’t be dead. Both Garren and Thane’s
faces popped up in her mind, although
Garren’s lingered.
Baldy loomed over someone on
the ground with his knife raised in his
hand. She couldn’t tell whom he was
hovering over.
His arm swung down.
She pushed harder.
Another scream rent the air just
when Garren cut her off and then tackled
the Eradicator to the ground, skidding
across the forest floor. When they
stopped, Garren had his knife against the
man’s throat.
“Ivy,” Thane said. He sat against
a tree with his head down, blond hair
sticking to his forehead. His chest rose
and fell with each labored breath. A
silver dagger stuck out of his thigh.
Blood saturated his jeans.
Oh, no.
Chapter 11
“Oh my gawd, are you all right?”
Ivy ran to Thane and knelt next to him.
She wasn't normally squeamish
at the sight of blood, but seeing it pour
out of his leg was another matter. She
choked down the urge to cry, to panic.
Taking in a lungful of air, she exhaled all
her nervousness and worry. When she
calmed down, her mind cleared. All the
lessons from the community center first-
aid class flipped to the front of her
brain. She could do this.
“Okay, you need to lie down.”
She helped rest his head on some dead
leaves and then bent his injured leg to
keep the wound above his heart. The sun
glinted off the part of the silver blade not
embedded in his flesh.
“Grab the duct tape,” Garren
said as he struggled with the already
beaten Eradicator. He pressed the tip of
his knife further into the underside of the
man’s jaw. Blood trickled down his
throat from where it pierced the skin.
“I’m a little busy here.” Now
what was she supposed to do for a stab
wound? Call for emergency help. It’s
kind of hard to do that with
out a phone.
“Ivy!” It was amazing how much
impatience could be packed into one
little word.
Thane moaned as he shifted
sideways off a rock that was digging into
his lower back. “Go help him. I’ll be all
right.”
She knew B.S. when she heard it
and didn’t want to leave him, but figured
if she found the duct tape fast enough,
she could give Thane her full attention.
She surveyed the area but didn’t see one
of the packs. She’d left hers behind with
the other Eradicator.
“Where’s the bag?”
“Look up,” Thane said.
Sitting on the same branch Thane
had perched on was a black backpack.
She held in a groan, not feeling strong
enough to climb trees right then.
As if he could read her mind, he
whispered, “You’re a witch, Ivy. Start
acting like one.”
She ignored the unintended
offense and raised her hand to summon
the bag. Her whole body trembled with a
fatigue that seeped into her bones. Her
magic, which usually thrummed like the
low register of a bass cello, now buzzed
with all the power of an insignificant
gnat. Focusing on that tiny piece of
magic still alive, she pointed up to the
bag.
It wobbled a bit but didn't move.
Talk about déjà vu.
She
concentrated harder, willing her magic
to obey. A few leaves, some loose bark,
and one disgusting, hairy spider flew
towards her before the bag finally
landed in her waiting hands. She
plopped the bag down and searched for
the tape. Garren managed to flip the guy
over and she bound his wrists together,
then his feet.
The Eradicator jerked and tugged
at the bindings. “Ivy, you're going to
regret this. We found you once, we'll
find you again. And next time, we won't
be so nice.”
“Huh. That’s exactly what the
other guy said when I tied him up.” She
tore another piece of tape and slapped it
over his mouth. “Now shut the hell up
before I hocus pocus some moose antlers
on your head.”
Thane grunted behind them.
“Help me,” she said to Garren
as she ran to her cousin's aid.
Thane was a lot calmer than a
person in his position should be. His
eyes were shut as he inhaled strong,
measured breaths. His face paled,
making the freckles across his nose stand
out more than usual.
“In the bag, there's a first aid
kit,” he said with effort.
After a few seconds of sorting
through a bunch of other crap, she found
what she was searching for. She pulled
out the gauze, bandages, and potion
bottles and lined them up.
Garren crouched down next to
her, studying the supplies. “Do you know
what you're doing?”
“I think so.” She rubbed the hand
sanitizer all over her hands and arms. “I
sat through twelve hours of an ER
marathon one weekend before I moved
to Salmagundi.” She didn't miss his
scowl, but chose to ignore it in light of
the current situation. She made Garren
sanitize his hands too, because he would
need to help.
Thane's jeans had to be cut away
to give them better access to the injury.
The metallic scent, like old coins,
intensified. The weapon wasn't in too
deep and the bleeding had slowed down.
“Okay, Garren is going to pull
the knife out and then I'm going to apply
pressure to stop the bleeding.”
“Garren's going to do what?”
Garren asked, the color draining from
his face.
“You heard me. On the count of
three. Ready?” She gathered up a pile of
gauze and got in position.
Garren's hand hovered around
the handle, waiting for the signal. On
three, he yanked the knife free. Thane
grunted through gritted teeth as fresh
blood leaked out of the open wound. She
pressed the material down and held it.
His body tensed at the pressure.
At her side, Garren swayed back
and forth before he fell down on his butt,
but didn't pass out.
“Don't you dare wuss out on me,
Garren. Suck it up.”
He shook his head and scooted
away.
She wrapped the wound up and
cleaned the blood off the surrounding
skin. The coppery scent made her
nauseous, saliva pooled in her mouth,
but she clenched her teeth and pushed
on. Garren was useless, sprawled out on
the ground.
“Are you going to laze around all
day or help me?” she asked Garren as
she popped the cork off a small ceramic
bottle of healing potion. A wisp of
purple smoke rose from the bottle as she
handed it to Thane.
Thane brought the bottle to his
lips but then stopped. His gaze fell on
her arm, or rather the blood-soaked hole
in her sleeve. “You’re hurt.”
In all the excitement, she’d
forgotten all about the cut on her arm.
“It’s nothing. Just a scratch. Drink up,”
she told Thane. She made sure he drank
every drop before taking the empty
bottle back.
“Well?” she asked Garren, who
hadn’t moved a muscle since he lay on
the ground.
“Too tired,” Garren mumbled.
Thane gingerly sat up, wincing as
he moved his leg. “He exhausted his
magic fighting with his shields. He’ll
need to rest up to regain his strength.”
“Are you kidding me? Maybe if
you weren’t showing off,” she said with
a nudge to Garren’s hip, “You wouldn’t
be so weak.”
“I wasn’t… Whatever.”
Thane grabbed a silver flask that
sat among the other potion bottles. He
took a swig and then passed it to Garren.
“This should help.”
Garren moaned as he pushed
himself up to his elbows and reached for
the bottle. Even Oscar winning actors
weren’t as dramatic. He swallowed a
mouthful of the potion and sighed.
“Here, Ivy,” he said as he passed
her the bottle. “You need some, too.”
“What is it?” She took the flask
and sniffed the open top. They didn’t
seem like boozers, but she really didn’t
know them very well yet. It reeked of
peppermint.
Garren stood and stretched his
arms out wide. “It’s strengthening
potion. Just drink it.”
Judging by his sudden burst of
energy, the stuff was potent. After
wiping their germs off with the cu
ff of
her sweatshirt, she took a mouthful. She
resisted the urge to gargle and spit.
Immediately upon swallowing, warm
energy radiated throughout her body.
Every cell woke with power, like getting
fresh batteries; the hope that they could
accomplish their quest was also
renewed.
Garren left to bring the red-head
Eradicator to sit with his friend. They
tied the two men up to a tree, one on
each side with their wrists taped
together. She wanted to ensure they had
time to escape, but didn’t want to
actually hurt the prisoners. So, she
grabbed the scissors they used to cut
Thane’s jeans off. Baldy’s eyes widened
when she made the first snip to his shirt.
“Now hold still,” she said as she
inserted the scissors into the top of his
jeans. “I won’t be responsible if other
things get… snipped.” She kept her eyes
averted from certain areas as she cut
away. Soon, both men stood in their
birthday suits, cursing her under their
taped mouths.
“I wouldn’t struggle against the
bark too much. You’ll chafe.”
“You’re evil,” Garren said with
a smile as he took the scissors from her.
“No, evil would be asking
Sparky to light the tree on fire. I’m just a
little wicked.”
*****
In no time at all, they had Thane
up, in clean pants, and helped him walk
across the street to the bus station. After
saying goodbye to Sparky, again, they
entered the depot. She and Thane sat in
the uncomfortable plastic chairs littered
throughout the waiting area, while
Garren purchased the bus tickets to
Sacramento. Soon, this would all be
over and they could return home.
Moments later Garren walked
back, a frown on his face. “How much
cash do you have?”
“Why?”
she
asked.
Thane
assured her before they left that they had
enough money to pay for this trip ten
times over.
“Because the credit card I
swiped from my mom isn't working. So,
if we want tickets, we need cash.”
“What do you mean 'swiped'?
Didn't you tell her what you guys were
planning?” Uneasiness crept up her
spine. Just when things were starting to
go their way.
Both of them stayed silent as they
looked everywhere but at her.
She inhaled deeply in an attempt
to stamp down the urge to strangle their
necks. “Does anyone back home know
what we're doing?”
Garren huffed. “Are you crazy?
They think I'm camping with Keith for