As she always did, she set out about a dozen of her homemade pills on the table by the bed. For a moment, Lucas just stared at the pills, which smelled like licorice crossed with sweaty gym socks. Eventually, he dropped one into his mouth with two fingers while he held his nose.
“Very good,” She told him. “Now the rest.”
“Mom, what do these do?”
“I told you. They invigorate the immune system and rid your body of toxins.”
“What toxins?”
“Swallow them now.”
Lucas downed the rest of the pills, then followed with a cup of bitter tea she had made from her herb garden. The mix brought immediate nausea and a warm flush started in his face.
“I’m pretty tired, mom. Is it OK if I go to sleep now?”
“Of course, baby,” She said, wiping the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “You’re going to need your sleep if you’re going to be as strong as you need to be.”
Then she walked out, leaving his bedroom door open a slight crack.
“Hurry,” said Strix as soon as she was down the hall. “We don’t have much time.”
Lucas had to fight back growing weakness in his body but he eventually pulled himself out of bed. “I don’t think I can,” he told Strix. “I’m not feeling so good.”
“Please, Lucas. Do as we say.”
He took out a garbage bag he had tucked under the mattress and held the opening up to his mouth. Strix told him again to hurry up. He inserted his forefinger into his mouth far enough to tickle his tonsils. After a few moments, he felt the coming eruption in his stomach. Then, the pills along with his dinner of liver and beans, pumped into the garbage bag.
He muffled the sounds as best he could in order not to call his mother’s attention. After he finished, he fell back on the bed to catch his breath. Although his insides ached from vomiting, his body already felt a strange and growing vigor. It was as though he had expelled something cancerous with an aim of eating his organs.
“Feel better?” Strix asked him.
“I guess I do,” Lucas said, feeling strength and control coming back to his arms and legs. He sat up and took in a satisfying breath.
“Now get your shoes on,” said Strix. “We’re going for a run.”
…
At the same time, just up the hill, Callista looked out to the Bastion from her floor-to-ceiling bedroom window. Branches of lightning from a thunderstorm ripped into the lightning rods on the top of the wall. Amidst the flashing, she saw the red dome dome perched on top.
Strix’s voice carried across the bedroom. The owl said, “It’s beautiful. Isn’t it, Callista?”
“I never get tired of looking at the Bastion.”
“Your mother loved it too,” said Strix. “Some mornings, she would hold you on her lap and watch the sun rise over the wall.”
“How do you know that, Strix? You weren’t even built yet.”
“We’ve been here a long time,” said Strix. “Long before we had a physical form.”
“If you know so much, tell me what happened the night my mom left. I know she had Storm Madness, but did she really die out there?”
“We’re afraid she was killed in the storm. However, she was not afflicted with Storm Madness or anything else.”
Before Callista could respond, her father’s head was poking through the half-open door. He was still in his suit and tie. In fact, it looked as though he had been in the same outfit for days. With purple bags under his eyes, the man looked as though he hadn’t eaten and perhaps dropped ten pounds.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he told her, taking a seat at the foot of her bed. “I just wanted to look at my daughter for a few minutes. I’ve missed you.”
“If you miss me so much, why are you acting so strangely and hiding out in your office?”
Her father started to talk but the first syllable caught in his throat. “I…I… Listen, I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Tell me what’s going on. Tell me what those things are in the attic.”
His face went a shade paler and he wrinkled up his mouth. Instead of answering, he just sat on the bed looking at her. He appeared as though the weight of the Bastion was on his shoulders.
“Well, are you gonna answer me?” She asked.
“I’m protecting my family,” he said more to himself than to her. “I don’t have a choice.”
Then he abruptly got up and left.
After he was gone, Callista asked Strix, “What’s wrong with him? Why is he acting like this?”
“We cannot answer for your father.”
“Why not?”
“We apologize for changing the subject, but you have a visitor approaching,” Strix told her.
“Morgan?”
“Please be quiet on your way out as not to alert your father,” answered Strix without another word.
When she got to the end of the driveway, she saw Lucas standing there, bathed in streetlight. Strix’s red eyes beamed red from the top of his backpack.
“It’s you,” She said. “I wasn’t…”
“Strix told me to come,” Lucas said.
For a moment, standing under the streetlight, they both just looked at one another. Lucas was flushed and soaked with sweat. His eyes were wide and brimming with moonlight.
Then Callista spoke the only thought currently running around her mind. She said, “You look different every time I see you.”
Lucas smiled, saying, “I feel different.”
They walked to the park nearby Callista’s house. She was curious and asked about Lucas’s illness. He explained he had been sick for as long as he could remember, that his mother had taken him to every doctor they could afford and how he had progressively gotten worse until recently, until Strix.
“Talking to Strix is transforming me or something,” he told her. “I can’t explain it.” He hesitated before telling her, “He also told me to stop taking any food or medication from my mom. Said it isn’t good for me.”
“Why would she give you something that isn’t good for you?”
“She wouldn’t,” he answered. “I think it’s just a mistake or something but I do feel better, just like Strix said.”
“What do you think he is? Strix?”
Lucas thought about it. “A guardian angel or something,” he told her. “He’s been helping me. That’s for sure.”
They sat down on one of the benches that ran the perimeter of the park. The waves hissed and crashed against the Bastion in the distance, sending out a salty kiss of wind. Callista looked at the marvelous black wall, like the nothingness at the event horizon of a black hole.
She asked him, “Who do you think really lives up there?”
“Someone pretty crazy,” said Lucas.
“I’ve always wanted to go to the top, to see the ocean from up there.”
“Me too,” he said. “Although, I’m not sure many have lived through it.”
Out of nowhere, Strix’s electroluminescent feathers turned bright red, then flashed like police lights. Two beams of light from his eyes started to scan the trees around the playground.
“Lucas and Callista,” Strix said, “please return to the interior of your home immediately.”
“Why?” She asked.
“There is danger present,” Strix told them. “We will escort you to safety. Please do not delay.”
By the time they stood up, it was too late. Nox Jaborosa stood by the sliding board, his big teeth shining as bright as the whites of his eyes. His face was covered in dirt and his body draped in the bloody and rotting skins of rabbits and deer he had killed.
“I know the big secret,” said Nox. “I finally saw it. I know what your friend the owl doesn’t want you to know. I could tell you.”
“Please do not listen,” said Strix. “Nox and his mind have been permanently parted.”
“Maybe,” said Nox, who was smiling like his face was being pulled by invisible forces. “Mayb
e not.”
“Just leave us alone,” said Lucas. “Go back to living in the woods.”
“The owl tried to destroy me,” said Nox, “but it didn’t work. Not all the way. When he did it to me, I saw things. Now I see the owl’s secrets.”
“Do not listen,” said Strix.
“The owl is in my head all the time now,” said Nox. “I hear his voice just like the old man does. It never stops. It never stops. Hey, Callista and Lucas, do you want to know why so many are missing, where they’re going…”
The red beams in Strix’s eyes scanned their way onto Nox and he shrank back under the light like a frightened rodent. Then the other Strix, Callista’s Strix, did the same. Nox started shivering in his animal skins.
“You’ve gone insane, Nox,” the Strixes told him together. “You’re going to stop speaking right this second.”
“You can’t hurt me more than you already have!” Nox shouted.
“Are you sure about that, dear Nox?” Asked the Strixes.
“Listen,” Lucas told Nox, “we don’t want to hurt you. Just leave us alone.”
“Hurt you?” Asked Nox. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” he said. “I don’t need to.” He backed up toward the woods. “I don’t need to hurt you, Lucas. I know the truth now.” Nox backed up some more, until he was on the playground border. “Tell Morgan to run away. To run away fast,” Nox screamed. “Tell him to stay away from this place and the two of you.”
Then Nox took off like a frightened rabbit and disappeared into the woods.
…
Chapter 20
Dark Forces
The following morning, Morgan woke to the sound of grown men screaming outside. The commotion came from a crowd of men fighting right in front of their front window. The men were obviously drunk, hitting each other and rolling around on the concrete.
When Morgan came downstairs, his father already had the front door open, yelling at the men to leave.
“Get the hell out of here!” Killian shouted. “You’re ruining this neighborhood! Get a damned job like the rest of us!”
Killian Battle was considerably intimidating and, even though the men out front were drunk, they quickly abided and left.
“They’re bussing these people in all night,” he told Morgan. “I don’t know what’s going on but something is rotten.”
Morgan noticed there was a fire engine red notice tacked to their front door. It read: Notice of Eviction.
“What’s this about?” Morgan asked, pulling the notice from the front door. “We’re being evicted?”
“Oh. That,” said his father. “I’m dealing with it.”
“Are we getting kicked out?”
“Don’t ask me that again,” Killian said, turning his attention to the street outside. “I said I’d figure it out.”
Down the block, rows of makeshift tents made of tarps were starting to bloom. Shopping carts filled with plump garbage bags bustled in a near traffic jam. Some of the people were drunk and lively while others moved like monks.
Both Morgan and his father stood astonished at the mysterious and growing population of homeless just as another bus let some more off. The unnatural density of people clogged the roads and sidewalks and neither the police nor any other authority even acknowledged the problem.
Discussion had started around the neighborhood but no one knew why it was happening or who was behind it.
Morgan’s father had a worried look, an unusual expression for him. He leaned against the frame of the doorway, staring at the commotion. “We should get out of here,” he said. Then he turned to Morgan and his face turned graver. “But where the hell would we go?”
…
The bussed-in crowd bled all the way to Lucas’s neighborhood that morning. As soon as he woke up, he found his mother standing in front of his bedroom window. She was staring down at the rowdy, aimless mob outside but her mind seemed to be somewhere else.
As soon as she noticed Lucas’s eyes were open, she asked him, “Where were you last night?”
The planning necessary to form a full lie was beyond Lucas so soon after waking up. So he blurted out, “I was running. I went running last night.”
“Running?”
“Yeah,” Lucas went on, “I’ve been jogging a little to lose some weight. It’s been making me feel better.”
“No, it hasn’t,” said his mother. “It’s not making you feel better. It’s killing you.” She went on, sounding regretful, saying, “I’ve given up everything to make you better. I just don’t understand why you would do this to me. Why this death wish?”
“But, Mom…”
“No more running. Ever.”
“But, Mom…”
“Please don’t make me dream up punishments for you, Lucas. I don’t want to punish you, but believe me, I will.”
“I’m sorry,” Lucas told her, lowering his head. “I’m sorry, mom.”
Her expression turned vacant, like a latex mask. She locked onto his eyes, asking, “Is there anything else you need to tell me about your little trips at night? What else are you doing?”
“Nothing, mom. I’ve just been…”
“Whatever you’re doing,” she said, “it isn’t helping. You look so much worse to me. You look like you’re dying.”
“I don’t feel…”
“Do you want to die? To kill yourself trying to be different?”
“No.”
“Your mother knows who you really are, baby. Don’t forget that.”
…
Callista found her father drunk in his study that morning. He was just about to nod off when she stopped in to say goodbye before school. Strewn all over his desk were old family photos going back generations. His eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids were wilting down to his cheeks. Days worth of black and gray beard covered his face and neck.
“What are you doing up?” He asked Callista.
“It’s morning,” she told him. “I’m going to school.”
Her father turned around in his chair and noticed the sunlight coming through the window. “So it is,” he smiled like a man at a funeral. “I was up and lost track of time.”
“Are you going to talk to me or just blow me off like usual?”
He sighed. Something in his expression begged to confess but his mouth stopped him. “I know how confusing this must be for you,” he said. “I don’t want you to worry.”
“Not worry?” She asked. “How could I not worry with you acting like this? How can I just accept you shutting me out of something that’s obviously really important?”
“I am shutting you out,” he admitted. “But it’s not what you think. I don’t have a choice, honey.”
“How can you not have a choice? I don’t understand.”
For a moment, her father’s deliberation made it seem as though he was about to come totally clean. Then, even with exhaustion and alcohol, he still caught himself.
Finally, in the gravest tone she had ever observed, he told her, “All I can say is that telling you will put us both in terrible danger.”
“Danger from what?”
“Something is happening, baby,” he told her. “I want you to know that it’s going to be OK. I’m going to protect us.”
“Protect us from what?”
“Dark forces,” he answered. “The kind I didn’t think existed. We’re at war and I don’t mean the one on TV. That’s all I can say. Really, it’s all I know.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“I’m sorry that you have to hear your father say this. I couldn’t have imagined my father saying this to me but it’s time to be scared, Callie.”
…
Callista skipped school that day and, through Strix, told Morgan to meet her by the Old Tsunami watchtower. When he arrived, she was sitting on one of the graffiti covered benched with her face in her hands.
When he asked her what happened, she told him, “I think something is either wrong with my dad or wrong
altogether. He’s acting insane, talking about dark forces and war.”
“If it’s any consolation,” said Morgan, “my dad is acting weirder than usual too. I guess it’s going around.”
“Can you put your arm around me?”
Morgan complied, sitting down next to her and tucking her under his arm.
She let herself get swallowed up in his muscles and felt better. Then she put her head on his shoulder, telling him, “I don’t want time to move anymore. I just want it to stay right now forever.”
“Me too,” said Morgan. “I used to look forward to the future. Used to think about getting my brother and me out of my Dad’s house and living on our own. I could take care of him and cure him. We wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore. I wish I could still think like that but, more and more, the future just scares me.”
Callista glanced over to their electromechanical owls, identical and sitting next to one another like twins in a photograph. She asked Morgan, “What do you think Strix is?”
“Our friend. Someone or something to watch over us.”
“Do you think he’s supernatural?”
Both their Strixes spoke at the same time, saying, “There is nothing supernatural about us. We are a computational consciousness, much like you humans. However, we do not suffer from the physical and mental boundaries that you do.”
Morgan said to the owls, “Great. That really helps. Guys, are you trying to be confusing? Because you’re doing a great job of it.”
Callista brought up Lucas, saying, “The other night, he seemed so different from the first time I met him. He even looks different.”
Morgan answered, “I think Strix is changing us all, whether we notice it or not.”
…
That night, Lucas waited for the sound of his mother snoring before he tiptoed out of the house for his run. It was well after midnight and salt water mist had drifted down from the Bastion over the city. The white noise of the waves crashing was broken by the growing crowd of bussed-in homeless. Everyone not searching for their children was drinking, smoking and hanging out in their tents.
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