by Brian Rowe
Two more tears fell as she once again brought the match to the box.
“Please…”
The third flick of the match ignited the house explosion. Shari didn’t feel any pain. Unthinkable heat struck her, only for a second, before blackness swept over every cell in her body.
14.
I woke up to a different world that morning. Even though Liesel and I were stuck in the middle of nowhere, in an empty parking lot, I could feel it inside.
I sat up in the back of my car and turned over to hug my wife, but she was nowhere to be found. Neither was the bag with the paintball guns.
Where the hell is she?
There was some ominous fog in the area, and I looked out the back window, not seeing her anywhere around.
“Liesel?” I opened the door, stepped out into the cold, misty air of Portola, and shouted: “LIESEL?”
“Over here, Cam,” she said from across the way.
I walked up to see an awesome, unexpected site. She had all the guns laid out on the ground, all the cans of silver paint piled high. It looked like she had been working on this project for the last few hours, while I tried to get some, if any, sleep.
“You did it,” I said.
“Yeah, I did,” she said, looking proud of herself, as she should. We had six deadly weapons, each filled with a witch’s ultimate kryptonite—wet silver paint. “Can you help me bring these back to the car?”
Liesel stood up, wielding the largest of the six weapons, but she stopped when she noticed my hesitance.
“What?” she asked.
“Leese… if these weapons are the only things that can kill Hannah, because she’s a witch… isn’t it possible they can harm me, too?”
She shook her head. “No. Only if it’s fired against you. The paint is well hidden. Touching the guns, getting close to them. It won’t bother you.”
“But what if Hannah gets a hold of one of the guns and fires it our way? Won’t that kind of defeat the purpose of what we’re doing?”
She brought her chin down and just stared at me for a moment. “Cam, it’s going to be fine.”
“Easy for you to say,” I said, bringing my gaze down to the guns. “If Hannah strikes you with one, you’ll get a bruise. She hits me, I’m dead. Sayonara.”
Liesel took my hand. “Cam, you and I… we’re survivors, OK? We’re the main characters in this story, not Hannah, you understand me? We live… she dies… and that’s as simple as it gets. If you just think positive, and stick with me, in a few hours, this is all gonna be over. Don’t lose faith in me, OK? Don’t lose faith in us.”
I kneeled down, picked up two of the most commanding weapons, and struck a pose for Liesel. “I would never,” I said. “Is it noon yet?”
Liesel smiled, grabbed the other guns, and tossed them in the back seat of the depressing brown Jeep. I did the same and let Liesel get in the driver’s seat. Even though Graeagle was just an hour outside of Reno, I had never been there. I wouldn’t know my way around, and I certainly had no idea where the secret hiding place would be.
“Do you know where you’re going?” I asked her.
“It’s been ten years,” Liesel said, putting the car in reverse and speeding down a dirt road to get back to the highway, “but I’m pretty sure I remember. If I get a little lost, though, it’ll be OK. You heard Hannah yesterday. We still have time.”
“I should have shut my mouth,” I said, shaking my head and slamming my foot against the dash. “We could’ve ended this by now.”
When my phone started ringing a minute later, I opened the glove compartment and flipped it open to see that Kimber was trying to get a hold of me. I went to accept the call, when Liesel grabbed the phone from my hands.
“Hey!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”
“What?”
“Give me the phone back! It’s Kimber!”
“No,” she said, rejecting the call with her left hand, her right hand awkwardly handling the steering wheel. “We can’t have any interruptions, Cam. Not today. Once Hannah’s gone, you can chat with your sister on the phone for hours. But right now, we can’t have anything or anyone distract us from our mission. I’m sorry.”
She dropped the phone in the glove compartment and closed it tight.
“But what if she needs me?”
“The world needs you more,” she said.
We drove for ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty. We passed through sad nothing towns like Quincy, Greenhorn, and Cromberg, before finding the outskirts of the similarly unremarkable Graeagle. There didn’t seem to be much in this lowly populated town, except for golf courses, motels, and lots of dirt. After passing a vacated Foster Freeze, we started speeding down another highway, this one taking us to a place called Whitehawk.
“It’s in Whitehawk,” Liesel said. “I think I know the turn-off, but we’re gonna have to go part of the way on foot.”
“How far on foot?”
“Two miles, maybe three. Not that far. We’ll just put the guns in that bag.”
“And you’re sure we’re not stepping into a trap,” I said.
“Trust me, Cam. I know Hannah. And I know she’s not gonna let us go that easy, especially after everything she’s put us through. She’s got the strength of seven witches. She could’ve killed us days ago if she wanted to. She’s toying with us. She yearns for the challenge, the fight—”
“Look!” I pointed at the sign up ahead. It said that the town of Truckee was thirty-seven miles away. “We’re close to Reno. We’re almost home, Leese.”
“Almost,” she said. “One more vital stop before life goes back to normal. Come on. Let’s get ready. We’re almost there.”
A few minutes later Liesel pulled our beat-up old Jeep off the main road, into a posh neighborhood complete with condominiums, an Italian restaurant, and a pristine eighteen-hole golf course.
“I thought you didn’t have a lot of money growing up,” I said, as Liesel started speeding, looking anxious to get us to the secret getaway. “This place looks expensive.”
“We didn’t stay in Whitehawk,” she said, passing the golf course and taking us down a narrow, sketchy one-lane road. “We stayed behind it.”
The street got even narrower. After a minute the paved road turned to dirt, and before I knew it, we were traveling at high speeds up and down small hills, with all sorts of bumps along the road, while the trees surrounding us became more numerous by the second.
“What… what the hell…” I felt like we could slam into a tree, or a rock, or a hobo, at any minute.
“Almost there,” Liesel said, as we continued to bounce up and down, like we were on an annoying rollercoaster ride.
Soon the dirt turned into small rocks, and then bigger rocks.
“Leese, you’re gonna blow the tire—”
“We’re here,” she said, pulling the steering wheel to the left with all her might, slamming the dumpy truck up against a tree.
I looked to my right to see a narrow hiking trail.
“No other cars,” she said, jumping out of the car. “We’re super early. I don’t think Hannah’s here yet.”
“You’re sure this is the right place?”
“Mmm hmm.”
I tried to open the door, but the tree beside the car prevented me from opening it. I scooted to the other side and jumped out.
“Here, grab the bag,” Liesel said, tossing it to me before I had a chance to react. I managed to grab it though, for a moment transported back to my high school days when I had to catch a basketball on a split second’s notice.
Liesel had one of the paintball guns out of the bags and in her hand—it was the powerful and lethal T16 Paintball Marker Gun, the one that was going to kill Hannah—and she started making her way down the hiking path. I ran up and started speed walking beside her.
But Liesel slowed down pretty quickly, looking confused and upset, as if she was second-guessing the location we were supposed to meet her sister at. Then she set down the gun, ma
king me even more nervous.
“Leese… what is it…”
She looked like she was going to throw up—maybe she was nauseous from the chaotic car ride.
“Leese? Are you all right?”
She bent down and vomited all over the tree trunk to the side of us. She upchucked three times, before bringing her arm to her mouth and wiping off the remaining chunks and drool on her chin.
“Oh God,” I said. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I’m fine.” She turned to me. “Just a little morning sickness.”
One of the few privileges I’d had in the last week and a half of having so much on my mind—gaining the knowledge that I was a male witch, meeting a long-lost and corrupt new sister of Liesel’s, outrunning the police, losing people close to me, and struggling to stop the end of humanity—that my wife’s pregnancy had been at the bottom of my priorities. I’d thought about it, of course, but she was so newly pregnant, and the world was so finitely close to destruction, that shopping for baby clothes and picking baby names hadn’t occurred to me quite yet.
Liesel shook her head, swallowed loudly, then continued walking forward again. “Sorry for the hold-up. Let’s go.”
“Leese.” I grabbed her hand, and she looked at me, a glint of tears in her eyes. “We’re going to have this baby.”
She nodded. “I know. Now’s not the time.” She started speeding ahead again, pretending like that little incident hadn’t just happened. “Let’s be quiet. We don’t want to make ourselves known.”
We didn’t talk much the rest of the way, as Liesel requested. That long walk, one that I knew had the strong possibility of being our last, left me with conflicting emotions. On one hand, people were suffering and dying all over the world, including my own father, who just passed away with my not getting the chance to say a proper good-bye; I knew this Hannah bitch needed to die. On the other hand, I didn’t know, when the time came to face her, if I would have it in me to perform a cold-blooded, premeditated murder. I couldn’t do it with Yolanda, that adopted sister who turned out to be on Hannah’s side, and I didn’t know, despite having an inferno of rage building up inside of me, that I would have it in me this time.
I figured I would have another couple of hours to consider my predicament, considering that Hannah yesterday said she wouldn’t be meeting us until noon, but, without warning, our time for contemplation had come to an abrupt halt.
“Oh my God,” Liesel said, bringing her weapon not up to fire, but down to her side. “I should’ve known you’d be here.”
I looked forward to see not Hannah, but Yolanda, standing still in the center of a circular campground, dressed all in black, her hair up in a bun, and her legs blocking a figure behind her.
“Where’s Hannah?” Liesel asked.
“Don’t take another step,” Yolanda said.
“Or what? You gonna talk us to death?”
Yolanda laughed. None of the humanity this girl had originally emanated existed within her anymore. She was Hannah the 2nd, a young girl who had been brainwashed from the get-go by a maniac. “I like your paintball guns there, Leese. You gonna pelt me to death?” She took a step forward. “I mean, didn’t you get the memo? This isn’t a game we’re playing here.”
When Yolanda revealed her handgun, pointing it straight at Liesel’s belly, my first instinct was to run in front of my wife, which I did. I shielded her, only for a second, before Liesel emerged behind me and started walking toward her.
“What?” Liesel said, her lips quivering, her face reddening. “You gonna shoot me, Yolanda? You gonna shoot my unborn child?”
“Ah, ah, ah,” she said, taking a step back. “Don’t come any closer.”
Liesel reluctantly stopped and looked back at me, briefly, before bringing her attention back toward her adopted sister. “Yeah? Or what?”
“Or I’ll shoot your little friend here,” Yolanda said. “I’ll shoot him right between the eyes.”
Yolanda stepped to her right, revealing a terrified, trembling Wesley, covered in blood, duct tape over his mouth, his hands tied behind a tree. He was trying to talk through the tape.
He also looked fifty years old.
“Oh my God,” I said. “WES!”
“Don’t!” Liesel shouted. She jumped forward, but Yolanda pointed the gun back at her.
“Not one step further,” Yolanda said. “One more step, and I swear to God, I’ll do it.”
Liesel stared at her with angry eyes. “Where… is Hannah?”
Yolanda chuckled. “Taking the one other thing more important to Cameron than Wesley.”
What?
Wesley caught sight of me, and he sighed, happily, as if he was grateful to see me.
“Put the gun down, Yolanda,” I said. “Please.” I dropped the bag of paintball guns to the side. I knew there was nothing they could do for me now.
“Don’t be the hero,” Yolanda said. “Your dad’s dead. And now your mom. If your best friend Wesley goes, I have no idea what—”
My mom?
“My mom?”
Yolanda nodded, and smiled.
“What did you say?” I shouted.
I marched right toward her. I didn’t care anymore. I felt my pulse quickening, my blood boiling. I could feel the warmth speeding toward the palms of my hands.
“Don’t make me do it, Cameron!” Yolanda shouted, as I made my way past Liesel. “Goddammit, Cameron, I’ll do it!”
She kept pointing the gun at Wesley, but finally, as I got even closer, she pointed the gun at me.
“I said, stop!” She fired the gun, and the bullet grazed my right leg.
“Owww!” I screamed.
“I said, not to come any—”
I could feel the heat in every morsel of my body. I saw the green light rise from my right palm, and I darted my eyes to Yolanda. A look of fear grazed her face as I pummeled my arm forward and shot a streak of light at Yolanda’s legs, knocking her off her feet and onto her back.
“Liesel!” I screamed. “Get the gun!”
I didn’t need to shout it. Liesel had already thought it. She leapt over me and jumped onto Yolanda, and the two girls started fighting over the gun. I watched with anticipation, and Wesley watched with trepidation, as Liesel grabbed the gun, then Yolanda, then Liesel again.
Oh please God, I thought. Please, please, please, please.
“Let it go!” Liesel screamed.
“No!” Yolanda shouted. “You let it go, you bitch! You’re the one who’s supposed to die—”
When the gun fired a second time, I brought my arm out again, this time not to unleash my powers, but to reach for my wife.
“Liesel!”
She had her face turned from me, and I couldn’t see Yolanda either. I looked at Wesley, who turned to me, a blank expression on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was happy or sad.
But then Liesel made her way up to her feet, and Yolanda slumped down to the ground.
Liesel turned to me, the gun in her hand. “She pulled…” I thought my wife had been desensitized to violence at this point, but her noticeable shaking showed me she was anything but. “She pulled the trigger… she pulled it herself…”
It hurt to stand, and I looked down to see a nasty bleeding wound on my right leg, but I limped forward anyway, ignoring the pain, wanting to reach out to Liesel with my left arm, and Wesley with my right. I hugged Liesel, briefly.
“Oh thank God,” I said, before stating the obvious: “Let’s get Wes.”
“Of course,” she said, and she kneeled down to untie the ropes behind Wesley’s back.
I ripped off Wesley’s duct tape first thing.
“Owww!” he shouted.
“Oh, sorry.”
He took a deep breath and smiled. I could see tears in his eyes. I never thought I would see my best friend again, and the sight of him so happy to see me made me teary-eyed, too.
“What took you so long?” he asked. “It’s taken you a few decades
to get here.”
“You’re alive,” I said. “I’m so happy you’re alive.”
“Of course I am,” he said with a big smile. “Who else is gonna make your life a living Hell?”
Liesel got his wrists untied and he fell forward, into my arms.
I held him there for a moment, a man who physically looked like a fifty-five-year-old stranger, but someone I knew to be the real thing, the best friend a guy could ever ask for. It was odd to see him looking so ancient, but by now I felt grateful to have had the chance to even see him again.
Liesel dragged us both up to our feet. I needed some assistance to walk, and Wesley helped.
“Hurry up, guys,” she said.
“Where’s Hannah?” I asked.
“Do you think I know? I have no idea. I’m gonna check my phone when we get to car. That’s the only thing I can think—”
“I know what she’s doing, and I know where she’s going,” Wesley said.
Liesel and I stopped, the car just yards away.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“What did she tell you?” Liesel added.
“This whole thing… it was just a decoy… a distraction, to buy her more time.”
“More time for what?” I asked.
“She told me,” Wesley continued, “that when the clock strikes noon today, everybody in the world is going to start aging… not a year with every day… or a year with every hour…”
“No,” Liesel said.
“NO!” I shouted.
“…but a year with every minute.”
I brought my hands to my face. I didn’t know whether to cry about the sudden streak of violence that just took place, or seeing my best friend again, or hearing that my mom was dead, or knowing that, inevitably, this world was going to end, and that there was going to be nothing we could do to stop it.
“It gets worse, Cam,” Wesley said.
My jaw dropped. “How could it get worse?”
“She’s taking Kimber,” he said. “And she said she’s going to love seeing the look on your face when you realize you were too late to save her.”
HANNAH
They ran and they screamed and they begged and they pleaded, but there was nothing anybody could do. As Hannah Foxwell swept through the cities, from Los Angeles to San Francisco, from Sacramento to Reno, she annihilated everything, and everyone, in her path.
