“We’re not coming one step near you!” Nox shouted to him. “You may pass without any harassment from us!”
“Doesn’t matter to me!” Lucas yelled back. “I don’t give a damn what you do!”
When Lucas got to the door, the boys did indeed keep their distance.
However, there was something frightening about the way Nox looked at him. That morning Nox Jaborosa’s usual grin had collapsed. His hyena’s smirk had been concealing such a dismal look that the sight of Nox’s naked expression made Lucas’s stomach ache. It made him think of all the fish, cephalopods and eels he’d rescued, saved and lost over the years. He recognized the look in Nox. It was the face of a creature in agony.
“You’ll never make it to class today,” Nox said when Lucas passed by. “Not today or ever again.”
Normally this was the point when one of the boys would give Lucas a good, hard shove and knock him into a locker. That morning, however, the boys just watched him on his way down the hall.
As he started to open his locker, he noticed they were staring at him like he was about to burst into flames. There was a stale odor in the hall that Lucas couldn’t quite identify.
When Lucas pulled the latch open, pink and purple slime, stinking of fish guts, came pouring down on him. The entire contents of his locker, hundreds of tiny dead jellyfish, emptied all over him. Nox and his friends had set a trap.
Sticky strands of decaying tentacles stuck to his face and ran down the inside of his shirt. The burning started as a tingle before turning to a scream.
The students in the hallway ran from the spill the way they would from a fire. They had been taught since childhood to stay away from the tiny, purple ones. Each of the hundreds of tiny jellyfish wasn’t much larger than a baby toe, but contained plenty of venom to kill a man.
“We know how much you love jellyfish,” commented Nox behind him. “It wasn’t easy to find that many KingSlayers. We collected them all night,” he said.
Lucas’s skin burned and he started to feel lightheaded. His face and lips began to swell. The roof of his mouth became sticky and swollen.
“Irukandji,” said Nox, leaning against a locker. “The most toxic of all jellyfish. Sting from one’ll kill you just fine, so we got you a hundred. Just to be on the safe side.”
His heart squeezed tight in his chest, Lucas felt as though he could fall over like a sliced tree trunk.
“You don’t look so good,” Nox said to him. “Even sicker than usual. The purple stings, man. They’ll get you.”
“Watch out he doesn’t yack on you!” Shouted one of Nox’s cohorts.
“Oh it’s gonna take more than yacking,” said Nox. “You just caught me by surprise the last time.” He leaned into Lucas and whispered in his ear, “When you’re dead, I’m going away for this. You’ve helped me get out of my father’s house again. Thank you, Lucas Mucus. See you on the other side.”
By this time, Lucas was unsteady on his feet. However, the sight of the dead pile of jellyfish and the stabbing chuckles of laughter overcame the KingSlayer poison. The rash and burns on his skin were sending messengers much quieter than those of his rage.
In that moment, he felt his body turn piping hot for war. He stared at Nox Jaborosa with such intensity than Lucas started to tremble. His expression turned from an almost formless dopey to something cold, like a bird of prey.
Lucas was going to explode.
“That’s what I wanted to see,” smiled Nox. “I knew you had it in you. Too bad it had to happen at the very end.”
At that, he and the rest of the boys started down the hallway.
Lucas’s body slid down the locker until he was a pile on the floor. His breathing slowed until his chest barely moved. Then he felt his neck buckle and head hit the locker.
At one point while he was collapsed, his history teacher, a gaunt, bespectacled man in his fifties saw Lucas on the floor. The man also noticed Nox Jaborosa walking away from the scene. Instead of helping Lucas or calling for help, the man just averted his eyes and went back inside his classroom.
The other students in the hallway also noticed Lucas needed help, but all kept their distance from him. Everyone knew about the purple KingSlayers and stayed away. Also, rumors of his mysterious illness hadn’t missed even the most disconnected nerd at school. A few called for help but no one came.
After a few minutes, Lucas heard someone say his name.
“Oh, shit, Lucas!” said Morgan Battle, standing in the hallway in front of him. “I didn’t think he would do anything this screwed up!”
With barely any concern for the briny smell and stinging tentacles, he pulled Lucas to his feet. He used his shirt to wipe the jellyfish chunks off Lucas’s face and protect his hands from the poison.
Lucas tried to speak but his throat was swollen. Eventually, he told Morgan, “It’s too late. It’s been too long.”
Morgan took him by the arm like an injured linebacker and helped him down the hall to the gym locker room. A few boys were inside and started staring at them.
“OUT!” Shouted Morgan Battle to them.
The boys inside all had more than respect for Morgan and quickly gathered their things to leave. He brought Lucas into the shower and turned on the warm water. Holding Lucas up, he helped him rinse off the pieces of jellyfish.
Even though bits of jellyfish were in the middle of killing him, Lucas was hesitant to take off his shirt. The idea of revealing his body at school seemed like a violation of his hard wiring. Taking his shirt off would feel tantamount to cutting open his abdomen and showing everyone his small bowel.
“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked him. “We’ve only got a few minutes. You’ve got to wash that shit off.”
Lucas eventually pulled his wet shirt over his head and let the hot shower wash off the tentacles. His entire upper body was padded in fat rolls and lumps of scar tissue. Boils the size of silver dollars ran down his back.
As he stood there with Morgan under the spray, he felt completely paralyzed. Lucas seemed to be crying only with his expression.
“I’m sorry that happened,” Morgan told him.
“I’m not,” said Lucas without looking at him. “I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of being afraid and I’m tired of being a victim. They can do whatever they want. If they don’t get to me, I win.”
Morgan noticed that Lucas’s skin was becoming less inflamed and his breathing was starting to stabilize. “You’re lucky,” he said. “You shouldn’t have survived that. You must be pretty strong.”
“Strength is overrated.”
“Listen man, you have to be careful. Nox is not a normal kid. Trust me. He’s got a hole where his soul is supposed to be. He and his old man live down the block from me. Our families used to hang out. His dad makes mine look like Mary Poppins. Remember that movie from the Twentieth Century?”
“I don’t care anymore,” said Lucas, nearly whispering.
“If it was anyone else, I would talk to them or maybe threaten them. Nox Jaborosa, though, he’s crazy and dangerous. What happened today should have killed you. That’s what Nox was trying to do.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Lucas, wiping his wet hair out of his eyes.
“Listen, just lay low and keep your distance. Maybe this’ll blow over after a while.”
“No, it won’t. We both know that.”
…
When Lucas got home that afternoon, he was already feeling nearly back to normal after the jellyfish stings. His mother was downstairs, tending to her hydroponic herb garden, and didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. His clothes were soaked through with brine, sweat and mucus but, because of his illness and the rough surf that day, their condition seemed appropriate.
She told him to go upstairs and get ready for their dinner of steamed vegetables and sea grapes.
Strix lit up as soon as Lucas walked into his room.
“We trust you’re feeling better,” said the owl. “Are you experiencing any
after effects of the jellyfish poison?”
“No, not at all,” said Lucas, who was still confused by his body’s near indifference to the toxin. “That should have killed me, right?”
Strix told him, “Indeed, most would have suffered cardiac arrest after such an exposure to Irukandji poison.”
“How come I didn’t? In fact, my body felt strange afterward but now, I actually feel pretty good. It doesn’t make sense, Strix.”
“Death was afraid to touch you,” said the owl. “Nox Jaborosa may be able to call upon darkness but he doesn’t command it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that no one can stop what you’ll become, Lucas. Not anyone. Not even the poison from a KingSlayer.”
…
A few nights later, Lucas pretended to be asleep when his mom checked on her way to bed. The whole time she stood in the doorway, he kept his eyes closed and body still. She whispered his name but he didn’t answer. Underneath the covers, he was prepared for his nightly run, with his oversized shorts and sneakers on.
The moment he heard her snoring in the other room, he sprung up from bed and tiptoed down the stairs. He tucked Strix in his backpack so the owl’s head poked out from the top.
When he got outside, he could finally be loud enough to inhale a full breath.
“You ready, Strix?” He asked.
“We’re ready, Lucas One,” said Strix, “Prepare for run.” The owl sounded out a loud pop, like the crack from a starter’s pistol.
Lucas snapped into a graceful run. His body was more than twenty pounds lighter since he’d started and his legs had built up more than enough strength to carry him. Each night he went out felt better and more natural than the one before.
Strix’s eyes lit a path through the woods for him to follow. He dodged branches and brush, hopped over tree stumps, and moved through the bush like a fox.
“Now we’re moving!” Strix called out. “Let’s go faster!”
Lucas opened his lungs and heart, pushing himself as hard as he could, to the point that his head felt light on his shoulders. Strix kept cheering him on, telling him to go faster up the hill.
Strix started projecting images from his eyes onto the trees around Lucas. A cheering crowd, full of men, women and children, called out to him. The flashing faces on the trees all shouted, “Lucas! Lucas!”
The owl imitated the hiss of a stadium crowd, then a collective chant sounding out, “The winner is LUCAS!” LUCAS!”
When he reached a break in the trees, he started to jump up and down with his hands in the hair.
In the voice of an old-time boxing announcer, Strix blared out, “Still champion of the world! Lucas!”
…
For the next several weeks, Lucas left the house every night, each time being vigilant not to wake his mother. After her nightly herbal tonic, she could usually sleep through a hurricane. So it wasn’t too difficult to escape detection.
His body seemed to change with each run. The boils on his back started to dry out and a few even fell off. The painful and bloody rashes stopped. His heart no longer felt overwhelmed. Each breath seemed to bring more energy than the last.
Muscles started to sprout in his legs and shoulders. The lines of his jaw started to take form. The donut of fat around his neck nearly dissolved away and his frame was started to resemble a man’s. The look in his eyes went from one of sad abandonment to angry engagement.
After each nightly run, Lucas would sit in the same clearing of woods and look out to the Bastion. There, he and Strix talked about anything that came to his mind, from science to girls. Strix explained the history of the war between the East and West Coasts, how so much had been lost. So many scientific and medical advances had been drowned into oblivion.
Strix seemed to know much about the extinct society of the past. In fact, the owl’s knowledge went far beyond any history book or Old World expert. The only thing Strix couldn’t adequately explain was where the information had come from.
…
A few nights later, Morgan heard his father screaming downstairs at the war on TV. The United East army had just destroyed an envoy of medical supplies destined for California and the man was overjoyed.
“Yeee HAAA!” Killian shouted. “Take that, you west-of-the-Mississippi-sons of bitches!”
He was drunk and high on anxiety pills, his pupils swollen black and his voice slurring. “You screwed with the wrong battalion, you Oregon shitwads!”
Morgan had given Brian some of his own anxiety pills and earplugs to muffle his father’s roaring. He was fast asleep in his bed.
Across the room, Morgan was awake and staring at the ceiling. The ocean was fairly quiet, with just a slight hiss coming through the Bastion. It was rare for the night to be so quiet, but his father was making up for it.
He noticed a flicker of light across the room and Strix’s owl eyes were beaming blue. “You’ve been quiet tonight,” Morgan said.
“We’ve been contemplating,” answered Strix.
“Contemplating what?”
“You, Morgan. We’ve been reflecting on your life.”
“That’s weird. What about my life?”
“Your burden,” said Strix. “The manner with which you manage is most interesting to us.”
“What Burden? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Strix rotated the motors in its head until his eyes pointed to Brian.
“He’s not a burden!” Morgan raised his voice before he caught himself. “The only burden I have is being part of this stupid experiment.”
“Your entire world,” Strix went on, “must feel like it’s closing in on you. For a child to be alone the way you are and to deal with your burden must be exceedingly difficult.”
“I love my brother and it has nothing to do with any burden.”
“His sickness,” said Strix, “is only one of the threats to Brian. You know this.”
Downstairs, Morgan’s father shouted something slurred at the TV.
Strix continued, saying, “Whatever happens won’t be your fault, Morgan.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Morgan whispered as his eyes began to water. His voice cramped up and he nearly whimpered. “I’m not going to let it. I’m not going to let it.”
“Morgan, he’s safe for now but you must be vigilant.”
Morgan sniffled, “I will. I will. I promise.”
“Do you feel alone, Morgan?”
Morgan wrinkled his mouth and held in the weeping. “Umm hmm,” he nodded. “Sometimes.”
“We want to help you feel less alone. That’s why we’re here. That’s our design.”
“I don’t understand. What the hell are you?”
“That’s difficult to explain but you should consider us a friend.”
“OK,” said Morgan, wiping tears out of his eyes and sucking his sniffles back. “You’re my friend.”
“Brian will be safe tonight,” said Strix. “Your father will surely be unconscious soon. We believe we can recommend an activity that will make you feel better.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re not your only friend,” said Strix. “There is someone else who can help you.”
Somehow Morgan knew whom Strix meant. “The rich girl? Callista?”
“Indeed,” said Strix. “At this very moment, she is feeling much the same way you are.”
…
Morgan got dressed and took the cable car up the steep slope of Azurton’s New Mountain. The system was still running at that hour but Morgan was the only passenger. He passed over the schools and neighborhoods, most of them poor and working class. The areas looked like scars on an otherwise lush landscape.
By the time the cable car traced its way to the top, Morgan was starting to feel tired. When the door opened, the cold ocean air whipped through the car and brought him back to consciousness. He walked the empty suburban streets until he made it to the street where he knew Callista l
ived.
As he approached the house, he noticed a window glowing on the third floor. When he got close, he saw her outline in the glass. She was looking out, as though watching for someone. Eventually she noticed him and opened her window. Without any surprise, she whispered for him to wait there.
Callista came outside with her index finger on her mouth, indicating they should both be very quiet. “Shhh,” she said, “my dad is sleeping. I don’t want him to hear us.”
“How did you know I was coming?” Asked Morgan. “It was like you were waiting for me.”
“I was. Strix woke me up and told me I would be receiving a visitor.”
“Did he say who was coming?”
“I didn’t need to ask. I knew.” She stood there for a moment just looking at him. Then she noticed the troubled expression in his face, asking, “Are you OK? You look upset.”
“Nah,” said Morgan, “I’m OK. I just got bored and decided to go out for a while.”
Callista’s front yard opened up to a grand view of the Bastion. A fog of light spray danced in the lights on the top of the wall. They could see the small structure at the top, a small dome with windows fixed across the surface.
“You live right next to the Bastion,” said Callista. “I’m jealous.”
“Can’t see much from my house,” said Morgan. “And the neighborhood leaves something to be desired.”
“Do you think someone lives on the top? That dome is really strange.”
“Who knows,” said Morgan. “I’ve never heard anything about it. Although my dad seems to think the same aliens that built the Bastion still live inside.”
“Strix told me it’s just you, your dad and your brother. He said your mother died.”
Morgan nodded, saying, “Yeah, she did.”
“My mom too,” She said. “It’s just me and my dad now.”
They talked about the deaths of their mothers for a while. Morgan told her how hard her death had hit his father, how he had become a different man, taking to anxiety medication and alcohol just about every minute of the day.
Break the Bastion Page 10
