The Lost Tayamu

by Ben Cass

  Jen pulled a bowl from the cabinet and held it up. When Ellie nodded, she grabbed a second one. “I guess I did agree to start discussing this stuff with you, didn’t I? Probably wouldn’t be fair to renege on that deal.” She grabbed the ice cream from the freezer and pried the top off. Ellie handed her the scoop.

  “Definitely would not be fair,” her younger sister agreed. “Might even border on criminal, actually. I’d hate to have you arrested for such an avoidable crime.”

  Jen scooped ice cream into both bowls and replaced the container in the freezer. She carried the dishes to the table and set them down, kicked off her shoes, and curled her legs up on the chair. Ellie joined her, carrying two spoons. She handed one to Jen, and they clinked spoons together as if making a toast.

  Jen took a few bites, savoring the rich chocolate with cookie chunks, dragging it out as long as possible. Finally, when Ellie began tapping her spoon against the bowl, practically bouncing in her seat, Jen spoke. “So what do you want to know?”

  “Took you long enough!” Ellie exclaimed, jabbing her spoon into the ice cream. “I’ve been patiently waiting for, like, two minutes! I want to know everything.”

  Jen laughed. “How about I summarize? I’d rather eat my ice cream than give a play-by-play.”

  “Fair enough,” Ellie agreed. “Start.”

  “We ate at Harold’s, which you already knew. My steak was delicious, but it’s always good there. I even helped myself to some of Doyle’s chicken, too.”

  “Nice flirtatious touch,” Ellie said, spooning more ice cream into her mouth.

  “I thought so. We talked about some stuff while we ate, kind of getting to know each other.”

  “Learning about his past, huh?” Ellie nodded. “Nice.”

  Jen frowned. “He actually didn’t talk a lot about that. He has this secretive vibe going on. I haven’t quite figured him out yet. We’d already talked a little bit about his past before, though, so I sort of know some stuff about him.”

  “You talked about it when you were hoping instead to make out on Amore Rock, you mean?” Ellie asked, puckering her lips and making kissing noises. Jen rolled her eyes.

  “Sure. We’ll go with that if it makes you happy,” Jen said, taking another bite of ice cream. “No, we mostly talked about everyday stuff tonight. Favorite movies, books we like, hobbies, puppies, and so on. It wasn’t the time to grill him.” She sighed. “No matter how much I want to.”

  “That’s not all you want to do, huh?” Ellie asked mischievously.

  Jen hesitated, but forced herself to say, “Definitely not all, no.” It still felt awkward to say that to her sister, but the delight on Ellie’s face was worth the awkwardness.

  They spent a few minutes eating quietly before Ellie sighed and spoke again. “Okay, you ate and made boring, unimaginative small talk. I’m disappointed thus far. You’re supposed to be a role model for me. Didn’t get to second base, I suppose?”

  “Didn’t even near first base,” Jen said. “Not that I would have, not on the first date.”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. “Prude. Continue. What did you do after dinner?”

  “We drove down to the river and walked the banks for a while.”

  Ellie swallowed another bite of ice cream. “Please tell me you held hands,” she begged.

  Jen scooped up more of her ice cream and put it into her mouth, shaking her head. “Sorry, kiddo.”

  Ellie sat back in her chair, looking defeated. “Perfect gentleman, huh? And I had such high hopes.”

  “I didn’t say we weren’t holding each other,” Jen pointed out. “I just said we didn’t hold hands.”

  Ellie shot forward in the chair. “And?”

  “And what?” Jen asked, finishing off her ice cream. She stood and rinsed the bowl in the sink, then dried her hands.

  “Jen! You’re killing me!”

  Jen rubbed her shoulder and stretched her neck to the side. “Hey, I agreed to talk about guys with you. However, I never agreed to tell you everything. Alas, some things must forever remain a mystery.” Jen smiled at Ellie. “I’m going to grab a shower and go to bed. You need to do the same thing. You have school tomorrow.”

  Ellie stood, wagging her spoon at Jen. “No,” she said firmly. “You are not leaving it there.”

  “No?” Jen asked. “Watch this, then.” She walked out of the kitchen with a spin and a flourish, tossing, “Have a great night!” over her shoulder.

  JEN jolted awake, heart pounding in terror. An unearthly howl, thunderous yet keening, echoed in her ears, the sound she’d heard while out jogging the other night. She glanced at the clock: just after one in the morning. She inhaled and started coughing almost immediately from the thick, nauseating smell of smoke.

  “Smoke?” she rasped. “What’s going on?” Jen jumped out of bed and looked through the curtains of her window, her nerves freezing in terror. Huge flames were leaping up from the walls of the house, and as far as she could see, there weren’t any untouched areas. Her room was already full of smoke, and a glance at the bottom of the door showed the inside of the house was undoubtedly on fire too; she could see the shadows dancing in the bright glow underneath her door, competing for her attention. Jen glanced up at the smoke detector, where the green light was not blinking at all. She’d just replaced all the batteries yesterday, so what the hell was going on?

  She threw the door open and rushed out into the hallway, calling for Ellie. She got to the living room before she was forced back by fire. Jen stared in horror.

  Everything was burning.

  The old china cabinet, which she had purchased from an antique shop downtown, now sprawled on the floor, a shattered, crumbling wreck. The coffee table sat smoldering on the tile floor, occasional cracking sounds coming from the wood. The paintings and carvings on the walls were already reduced to nothing, and she could see holes in the roof where parts of the ceiling had already fallen in, exposing the beams in the attic, which were themselves on fire.

  Through the opposite doorway, which led into the kitchen, she could see fire climbing up the walls, hungrily devouring the wood. Her cabinets burned, the black smoke pouring out of the kitchen.

  What she didn’t see was a clear path to safety.

  Adrenaline surged through Jen’s body, but indecision froze her in place. For the third time in less than a week, she was staring death in the face, but this time was different.

  This time, her sister was here.

  Jen’s mind returned to full speed and her muscles unlocked. She looked to see if she could get down the hall leading to Ellie’s room, but part of the ceiling had already collapsed, cutting off her access. There was no way to get to her sister. Her eyes burned and stung from the smoke, and she wiped at them, futilely trying to relieve the irritation.

  A loud crack startled her, and she watched as the front door tore from its hinges. It flew several feet into the house, crashing onto the floor with a thud, scattering glowing embers as it landed. A large figure stepped through the smoke-filled entry, apparently unconcerned with the roaring flames.

  Yes, for the third time in less than a week, she was staring death in the face, and for the third time, he was there, right beside her. A part of Jen’s mind wondered why he happened to again be in the opposite side of town at this time of night, but she quickly pushed that thought aside.

  “Doyle!” she coughed. He looked up at the sound of her voice and quickly made his way through the burning room. A wall collapsed, sending more flames roaring into the room, the noise making it hard to hear. Doyle barely even slowed; he spared but a glance for the fire, which seemed to retreat from him.

  Jen blinked in surprise; one of the flames had gotten perilously close to Doyle’s body before wrenching itself back, like it was afraid to touch him. Before she could think much about that, Doyle reached her side and, gathering her in his arms, hurried her back down the hall to her bedroom.

  Once there, he glanced around, obviously analyzing his options.
His attention turned to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the wraparound back porch. Much like storefronts, they didn’t open, and were basically nothing more than a glass wall. Outside the glass, a set of concrete stairs led down about four feet from the porch to the back lawn.

  WHOOSH! Flames filled the hallway, grabbing the edge of her door like demonic talons looking to grab her. As Jen looked on, unable to speak from all the coughing, Doyle apparently reached a decision. He grabbed the blanket from her bed and wrapped it around her. Scooping her up in his arms, her head pressed against his chest and her legs over his right arm, he yelled, “Hold on!” and ran towards the windows.

  Jen braced for the impact, but Doyle spun, his broad back hitting at full speed as he smashed through the glass, falling onto the porch. Flames leaped through the shattered window frame as the evacuees fell backwards. Jen could feel him trying to prevent her from hitting the concrete, but they rolled on impact, loosening her from his grip. He managed to absorb most of the initial impact, drawing an involuntary cry of pain from him as her body landed squarely on his ribs. Jen still felt the steps as she rolled down them, and was vaguely aware of Doyle tumbling after her.

  Her movement stopped when she crashed into something, a something very large and unforgiving. Her left knee pulsed with pain. She had hit the edge of one of the steps with it, and even the heavy blanket couldn’t lessen the impact. At the same time, while her leg pounded with pain, she felt something loosen in her mind, some knot dissolve, relieving her of a deeper pain she hadn’t even known was there. She’d felt it release when Doyle picked her up. His hands had been resting high on her thighs, pinning her close to his body, and a stunning warmth had rushed through her body to her brain, only to be replaced by dizziness when she bounced down the stairs just seconds later.

  Her head was starting to hurt, too. She’d hit the bottom stair with the side of her skull before she tumbled onto the grass.

  Somebody—it had to be Doyle—was pulling her away from the flames. Jen let her body relax, making it easier to pull her to safety. Her body shook with adrenaline, and her mind tried to shut down, to block out the horror, tried to make her slip away, to fall unconscious into blackness. She fought it, struggling to her feet as the blanket was gently peeled from her body. She felt Doyle’s hands on her, but she shrugged him off, snarling incoherently, and tried to run towards Ellie’s room. She made it only a few steps before she collapsed, head spinning with dizziness, nausea running through her stomach.

  She heard Doyle’s voice. “I’ll get Elowyn. Stay here. Theonus, watch over her.” Theonus? Jen had no idea who that was. She tried to open her eyes, but her body betrayed her, and she descended into the darkness, clawing the entire way.

  A loud crashing noise jolted Ellie out of a deep sleep. She sat up, rubbing her bleary eyes, trying to make sense of what she’d heard. There was a roaring that was growing louder, sounding like rushing wind or some howling demon. That didn’t make sense at all.

  Ellie sleepily climbed out of bed and went to her bathroom. She emerged a minute or so later, yawning, and opened her bedroom door. When she looked down the hall, she froze in place, heart pounding. She could see the fire and now recognized it as the roaring sound she’d heard. It looked like the living room was one giant maelstrom of fire. Flaming debris blocked the hallway. She wasn’t getting out that way.

  Ellie’s throat constricted; was Jen still in her room? She had no way of knowing. Her instinct was to go find her sister, but she forced the feeling down, making herself focus on her own survival. She glanced at her windows; a dozen panes of glass covering two walls, they were small and mostly decorative. While they opened to allow a breeze in, they were each a little more than a foot high and eighteen inches wide. Even as small as she was, there was no way for her to get out through them.

  Still, she had to try. Ellie ran to the first window and pulled on it, but it wouldn’t budge. The lock wouldn’t even open. She tried the next window, but got the same result. Panicking, she quickly ran through every window, finding none of the locks would open.

  Ellie looked at the lock on the last window, seeing a clear, hardened gel on it. Was that...some kind of super glue? Had somebody glued her windows shut? What the hell?

  Ellie’s mind raced, searching for options. She was starting to panic, and tried to calm herself down, to let herself think clearly.

  It wasn’t happening.

  Right as she started to hyperventilate, the door to the storage closet a few feet down the hall from her room splintered into large pieces as a fist punched through it. A second later, another hand came through, the door splintering to pieces as fingers gripped and tore wood apart.

  Ellie just stared, her nerves close to being shot, unable to make herself move, as a man stepped through the doorway and into the hall, looking to his right, his back to Ellie.

  She couldn’t tell if she was hallucinating or not. She quickly decided she wasn’t. “Coach!” she yelled, hope flooding through her. He spun around and quickly came for her.

  “Let’s go!” he yelled, motioning with his arm. “I already got Jen out!”

  Ellie nodded, and then had a second thought. She turned and rushed to her dresser, Doyle right behind her, yelling, “What the hell are you doing?”

  Ellie grabbed a box from her closet and began sweeping her picture frames into it while Doyle stared at her incredulously, his eyes wide in what looked like shock.

  “Are you serious?” he yelled, gesturing at the box. “Did you not notice the roaring fire out there?”

  “It’s all we have left of our parents!” she yelled at him, the crackling of the fire getting louder and louder. “I can’t leave it!”

  Doyle heaved a huge sigh, but pushed her aside, taking the box from her hands. He reached out and used his long arm to knock about twenty frames at once into the box. “I don’t get you sometimes!” he yelled, knocking more loose-lying pictures into the box.

  “Says the man who tore apart a door with his bare hands instead of using the doorknob like a civilized human!” Ellie pulled an envelope of papers from her desk drawer and threw them into the box. Doyle stared at her blankly for a second and then gave a sheepish grin and a shrug.

  “Done!” Ellie said, and Doyle quickly closed the top of the box. Ellie grabbed some masking tape from her desk and sealed it, wiping sweat from her eyes. Her room was getting really hot.

  They’d only spent a few seconds, but the fire had advanced down the hallway a few more feet. There was still plenty of space to the storage closet Doyle had come through. Ellie suddenly remembered there was a large window in the closet. That must be how he’d gotten in. A glance at his right arm showed a fresh, bloody gash running down his bicep, parallel to the other scar. It looked deep and painful, but Doyle seemed to be ignoring it.

  He waved his free hand impatiently, moving towards the door while carrying Ellie’s box. “Come on! We have to go now! We’ll get out through the storage room window!” A crashing sound interrupted him. The ceiling of the hallway outside Ellie’s bedroom had collapsed, flames dancing along through the attic space above.

  “Or not,” Doyle said grimly.

  The fire had not spread any further down the hallway, but had instead raced through the attic. The entire ceiling in the hallway was collapsing, sending thick smoke rolling into the room, choking them. Their way out was blocked. Ellie stared at the doorway, fear filling her body. She watched as Doyle went to her windows, quickly reaching the same conclusion she had. He briefly fingered the strange gel, his face hardening, before peeking into the bathroom, gauging the size of its window. Also far too small.

  “What kind of idiot puts a huge-ass window in a storage closet and tiny-ass windows in a bedroom and bathroom?” Doyle growled. He set the box down, ripped off his shirt and rushed into her bathroom. Ellie watched him soak it in the sink, turning it over in his hands. She briefly looked at his shirtless torso when he turned back around, but was too terrified of the fire to e
njoy the sight.

  “Cover your face with it!” Doyle tossed the shirt to her, and she wrapped it over and around her head, seriously obstructing her vision. He grabbed her and turned her face to his chest. Holding the box of pictures under one arm again, his deep voice thundered even over the crackling of the fire and the sharp splintering sounds of collapsing wood.

  “Theonus! THEONUS!” Goosebumps rose along Ellie’s arms and legs and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. It was almost like she could literally feel some kind of primal power surging through Doyle’s voice and body, pouring through her before exiting through her skin. She shivered involuntarily, feeling a sudden chill run down her spine despite the roaring flames now only feet away.

  Doyle’s stance was firm and determined, as if he could will the fire away. To her surprise, the flames hadn’t come any closer, almost as if they were being restrained, pushed back by something she couldn’t see.

  Seconds later, with a boom that shook Ellie’s whole body, not to mention the world around her, an enormous hole appeared in the wall. Not a hole! The whole freaking wall is gone! Ellie tried to look through the shirt, but the smoke still obscured her vision. Somebody must have rammed a giant truck or something into the wall. She thought she saw a huge black shape there, but it was gone as quickly as she saw it, and whatever it was, it hadn’t been a truck.

  Before she could think any further, Doyle shoved her through the hole and onto the lawn. Leaping out after her, he adjusted his grip on the box, lifted her onto his shoulder, and ran off, her face and arms bouncing against his back.

  A loud explosion roared behind them. Doyle threw her to the ground a split-second before the blast, the box flying away from him, and covered her up with his body. Her elbow jammed into his rib cage as he fell onto her and small shards of glass and wood flew at them, embedding themselves into his back. He cried out in agony, but didn’t move off her body. The shirt slipped off Ellie’s face and she saw the large black shape again, this time moving in place in front them, shielding them. Oddly enough, she caught a scent, not entirely unlike fur, coming from...whatever it was.