Airel

by Patterson, Aaron

  Chapter XXII

  Boise, Idaho. Present day.

  Blood pooled onto the wood of my dresser. I managed to stay on my feet looking at my hand and hoping that I wasn’t crazy. I prayed that I wouldn't have to get Mom up and ask her to rush me to the emergency room for… for stabbing myself!

  But, if I was crazy, and oh how I wanted to be—the wound would heal. I didn’t know how or when. This complicated things. No matter what, either I was a psycho who heard voices and stabbed herself, or I was a freak of nature who, admittedly, could be a cover girl. When I’m not spontaneously barfing.

  Now I would not only have the difficult and thrilling job of making it through high school and the whole teenager thing—but I had to figure out what I was as well. No matter what happened after this, I knew there would be consequences.

  It was surreal. I stood there and watched my gaping wounds as they dripped. Gross. But it was like watching the invisible hands of an expert surgeon reorganize the twisted remains of my tendons, arteries, and whatever else was in there. It itched like nothing I had ever felt, as if my hand would tear itself apart. Everything was placed back in order, fused together, and my skin covered it all without a trace... well, except for all the blood.

  All I could think about was the chorus to this song I had heard once. All it said was "stupid girl" over and over.

  I shook my head, wiped the blood from my hands in awe and cleaned up my dresser with a ratty old shirt that I had been meaning to throw out anyway. Then I took everything out back and dumped it all into our big outside trash can. I went back up to my bedroom and grabbed a frilly looking doily my mom had made and used it to cover up the gash on my dresser.

  I kept looking at my hand. I touched the place where just moments ago a bloody gash had been. It didn’t even hurt and there was no trace of a cut anywhere in sight. Maybe most people would be happy with that news, but it terrified me. I didn’t remember being bit by any radioactive spiders lately, or even hit over the head by a meteorite out in a corn field.

  Okay, so I heal quick... I mean really quick. It didn’t seem to keep me from getting sick though. Maybe I have a tumor in my brain or something. I’d read about that sort of thing happening. People got weird gifts like being able to read people’s minds or something, and it turned out they had a baseball sized tumor in their brain. A month later they were dead.

  I remembered the note the killer left in my mailbox that said, "I know what you are!" Not who you are but what. As if I was some sort of thing or animal.

  The cut itched so badly when it was closing together that I had struggled to keep from ripping open a new wound just to get it to stop. What in the world—or beyond this world–was going on? Somehow, death seemed better than this. Not that I couldn’t find use for a…a gift, talent, or whatever this was. But would happen when people found out? I’d be on Oprah in no time. Everyone would be looking to interview me and dissect my brain on national television. A freak. No, thank you.

  I know what you are!

  Maybe someone else already knew? Maybe someone else did this to me. Maybe when I was an infant they injected me with some sort of drug. Some secret government project, trying to create super-humans. Seriously, Airel? I felt a shiver run up and down my spine and I got that same feeling I had at the doctor’s office. It was as if I had this thing, this other voice, that wanted to help me or watch me.

  I listened as I stopped to look in the mirror. All was quiet, and in the back of my mind I heard the sound of someone sighing, as if it was impatient and wanted me to figure things out a little faster.

  I felt as if I stood on the edge of something big. “Look, if you’ve got something to say, say it!” I said into the mirror. I was on the edge of something, all right. I wanted to scream and kick my legs and throw a tantrum, but what good would that do? I was still alone.

  I recalled having read Frankenstein last year for English Lit. That’s exactly how I felt just then. A freak, totally alone. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling, deep down where it counted, that I was not alone at all.

  I looked at the clock. Six a.m. The sun was going to be up soon, bringing on the morning. I groaned at the thought of it. Sometimes my moods were just not in sync with the sunny weather. I prayed for rain.

  I was not very excited to go to school in this state. My world was completely upside down. Outside of faking a cold, I had to go. I thought about this, but decided not to. Mom usually didn’t buy it, anyway. Besides, it would give me more time to think this mess through without Mom checking my temperature every five minutes. Maybe I could even get Kim’s advice.

  School didn’t require a large part of my brain anyway. Seriously. If you learned to nod and grunt in the right places, you could skate by without breaking a sweat. The rest could be found on Google.

  I turned on the shower, cranked it to scalding, then opened my closet to decide what to wear this fine screwed-up morning. I picked out a blue button-up top and then got in the shower. It felt so good that I almost felt normal again. I decided to scrap the button-up top and wear my hot pink tank top with a white lace-lined shirt under it. Pink was my "feeling good" color and if I put it together with my worn-out jeans, I was unstoppable.

  The morning proved to be better than I thought it would be, with large cartoonish clouds filling the sky like daisies and the sun blazing through them. I made it out of the house just in time to retrieve my coconut latte on the way, this time without incident. I had half an hour until the school parking lot would start to fill up, and I emptied my mind of all thoughts about my weird life.

  I didn’t want to think…just feel…Feel. The word rolled through my mind like a summer thunderstorm. Feel…

  I heard the flutter of wings in the back of my mind.

  Opening my eyes, I saw Michael Alexander pulling in next to my Honda. My heart jumped into my throat but I downed the last of my coffee anyway.

  Michael slammed the door to his truck, leaned down, looked through the passenger window and waved at me. I smiled as he opened the door. “Hi, what brings you here so early?” I even sounded like a normal person, unlike how I felt inside—wind, waves, and butterflies.

  Michael’s eyes lit up and he shot me that smile. “I just had a feeling you would be here before everyone else.And here you are.”

  My heart did flip-flops in my chest as Michael slid into the passenger seat. I could smell his shampoo. There was also the faint odor of bacon and eggs lingering on his breath. Coming from literally any other person, I would have thought it was nasty, but on him it was magical.

  I looked at him without looking at him, and he smiled and stared at me. It was as if he didn’t mind me knowing that he was interested in me, or maybe I was imagining it and he was just being a nice guy. I was running out of excuses.

  “So, you hear anything from the police about that murder?” Michael asked. I was a bit shocked that I had forgotten all about it, but maybe it wasn’t so surprising with everything else that was going on.

  “Uh, no. I think they’re still looking for the guy. Kinda weird being there in the theater when it happened.”

  “Yeah. Not every day you get to be in the middle of real live action like that.” Michael sounded excited, as if he enjoyed the experience. Then again, he had not been hiding in a bathroom stall about to be attacked and cut to pieces by a psycho killer. “It was just like in the movies! All the police cars and everyone screaming and running all around…”

  “You sound like you enjoyed it. Personally, I could have been killed. And then what? Would you have been all excited that you knew the girl who was murdered?” I was getting mad at his happy-go-lucky attitude and the lack of fear he seemed to have.

  “No, no, I’m not happy! I uh—come on, Airel—it’s just that it was crazy, ya know... and you’re alive. Besides,it wasn’t just a random murder. They even said that the victim was a serial killer.” Michael’s eyes lit up like blue embers.

  “What? Where did you hear that?”

 
; “What do you mean, ‘where did I hear that?’ It’s been all over the news. They’ve identified the body as some child killer from Vegas. He killed like ten kids and even made it onto the top ten Most Wanted list. I guess they’re hunting their own kind now. Killer killing killer.” Michael shook his head in amazement and said, “Anyway, where have you been? The whole school is talking about it. You’re like the local celebrity... the girl who got away.”

  “Great. So much for flying under the radar,” I muttered under my breath. I didn’t want to be famous for anything. I just wanted to get through high school and maybe go to college. I got lost in my own thoughts for a second when I looked past Michael to his truck. I noticed movement. James was sitting in Michael’s truck drinking a Red Bull and staring out the window as if lost in a deep dark dream. I was so confused that I didn’t say anything for a minute.

  Michael followed my gaze and laughed. “Oh, James needed a ride this morning, so I picked him up. He didn’t want to be the third wheel, so he stayed in the truck.”

  “Wow. I didn’t see him, so it kind of freaked me out. You two are becoming fast friends, I see. Gonna go out for football?” I didn’t know what to think, but the James thing made something in the back of my mind twitch. I wondered what it was. Maybe it was just my conscience being over-sensitive, or maybe a sixth sense, like in the theater.

  “Well…” he laughed. “James is a cool guy. He’s going to talk to the coach for me, since the season has already started. I’m not that into it but it could be fun.” Michael ran a hand through his perfect hair and turned to look at me. I turned away, not knowing what to do, or even what might happen. His eyes were so crystal-clear, as if he could read my every thought.

  I could imagine Michael playing football. He had the body for it. I glanced at him, deciding that yes, he was…of sturdy stock…and I sound like my grandma now. He was a beautiful man and with this thought I realized that I did think of him as a man, not just a boy.

  He was powerful. He had eyes that could look right into my soul, but under it all there was something dark. I’ve heard of those underground rivers that go for miles. The water down there must be cold, black. That’s the feeling I got, but it was fleeting, hard to put my finger on. He was dangerous. That was it. Maybe that was why, in that moment, I knew I was falling for him.

  Michael felt my gaze and met it without a smile. All of a sudden my little car started to feel hot inside and I wanted to roll down my window. There wasn’t even a hint of humor in his face, which was not the way he looked most of the time. He always had a joke or a funny comment to make everyone laugh, but as he looked deep into my eyes, I saw something that made me gasp. It was a deep and clinging desire. It scared me more than I could have imagined. So…this is what it’s like.

  I felt as if I was an ocean—unpredictable, wild, stormy—and I could feel, intensely, that his single wish in life was to be given the privilege of drowning in all that I was. But it was more than simple desire. No, I could tell. He loved me. In it was something more powerful than all the stars crashing to earth.

  I tried to look away but couldn’t. He held me captive, and I could not—knew I would never—resist. Just as fast as it had emerged, the burst of passion in his eyes passed, sinking under lapping waves of self-defense. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, and the mask—the one we all wear—was back in place.

  “I wanted to ask you something.” Michael grinned and looked down at his hands, abruptly shy. “I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner with me sometime. You know, not anything fancy. Just hang out, get to know each other. I think you are…well, you’re very interesting.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. He was asking me out and he was shy. Or playing shy, whichever, I didn’t care. I was the last person he should be shy around.

  But I caught myself saying these words: “I would love to.” My heart pounded and my entire body buzzed with excitement. It occurred to me that I just might throw up all over this amazing guy sitting in my car.

  “Great, great…” He said, smiled awkwardly, opened the car door, and was gone. He and James headed into the school.

  I looked around, sank back into my seat, and fought back a tear. I was that girl. The one everyone wished they could be. I didn’t know why and I was afraid to ask, but I couldn’t help it. I balled up my fist, curled my arm, and gloated, “Yes!”

  Chapter XXIII

  1250 B.C. Arabia

  Kreios flew high in the evening sky, just under the low-hanging clouds that were forming on the western mountains; a fortress of jagged black rock peaks.

  He did not have time to stop until he found the Shadower. Pulling his shoulders back, he poured all of his energy into the increase of speed, breaking the sound barrier and leaving a powerful sonic boom in his wake.

  Kreios touched down with a crack of static electricity on the doorstep of his old friend Yamanu, who sat on the front porch of his shack. He was in a wooden rocking chair, smoking a pipe, and probably, Kreios thought, dreaming of the old days in another world. Kreios walked up the three creaky steps, took a seat next to his friend, and sat down without a word.

  Kreios took out his own pipe, filled it, and it lit without the assistance of fire. He drew on it slowly, allowing time to savor the sweet, relaxing smoke. It tasted like serenity. It was wholly unlike anything mankind had ever known. He let the smoke roll out of his mouth like a waterfall and curl up on his chest, drifting slowly down, draping him in a cloak. He leaned back to gaze at the stars with his old friend.

  Yamanu did not look his age. He had a full white beard and a bald head that shone in the moonlight. He was lean, just as he was as a kid, and a dark aura hovered around him; a shadow. “I have been waiting for this day,” he said, breaking the silence. Both of them still looked ahead at the stars, not at one another. “You come with haste.” Then, Yamanu turned to regard his old friend and said, “I know why.” He took a long drag from his pipe and looked back up to the heavens, regarding the stars.

  “Do you, indeed?” Kreios looked at him. “My daughter is in great danger, old friend, and we must take her to the mountains of Ke’elei.”

  Yamanu turned, looking with wonder at Kreios. “The City of Refuge.” He sighed. “This is more than I had imagined.” He paused again and looked at the ground. The smoke was pooling at their feet, fusing itself to the shadow that clung to him always, in symbiosis. “Tell me, is it true that your wife is dead?”

  Kreios had to take a moment. His hands were trembling as he nodded, “It is true.”

  Yamanu reached a hand to Kreios’s shoulder, touching him affectionately. The tears around his eyes mingled with a furrowed brow. “I am sorry, my old friend. She was a pure heart.” There was only a moment more of silence and consideration until a fire was lit within the eyes of the Shadower and his decision was made.

  Yamanu stood. “We must go.” He descended the rickety steps and began walking briskly in a little circular track that signified nervous energy. “I can feel your urgency,” he said; then paused, looking to the west. “With that westerly wind, I fear the Seer is closer than you might have guessed.”

  Kreios stood and came close. Yamanu moved behind him with agility and spoke in a whisper, “I will fight with you to the death, my friend.” Then he added playfully, “I will also beat you into the sky!” Yamanu was a rocket, gone in an instant, leaving Kreios looking up at his light trail with a smile. Kreios bent his legs, launched, and shed a sonic boom almost instantaneously.

  It was the beginning of the end, they both felt that. Even as the world slept, unaware of the existence of the monsters and incredible beings living amongst them, Kreios knew that what was destined to happen would change everything.

  Chapter XXIV

  Boise, Idaho. Present day.

  Kim and I sat in the third row of the bleachers under the mild late-September sun. The football team was running drills for an upcoming game. Borah liked to win more than anything else.

  Coach Denn
is was a machine. If he had his way, the football team would practice all year long. Football was his life. He was short and pretty fit for an old dude. The man had arms the size of most men’s legs... gross.

  He stood with his feet spread apart like he was gonna swing a sword or something. Every once in a while he blew a whistle, commanding the attention of everyone on the field, as well as a few in the stands. He barked out a few orders and the guys began running wind sprints.

  I watched the bigger ones lag behind the other guys, like James and Michael, who seemed born for it. I wondered, as they killed themselves for their conditioning, why guys pushed themselves so hard for a game. It was just a stupid ball. They fought and clawed their way up and down the field over it, thinking they looked impressive, then what?

  I had to admit I didn’t get it, but it was kinda fun to watch all the same. I tuned Kim out—she was talking my ear off–and watched Michael run the field back and forth, up and down, in perfect rhythm to some hidden clock that he alone could feel. He moved like a cat, light on his feet; and quick–much quicker than the rest of the team.

  “Did I tell you that James asked me out the other day? We’re going to see a movie. Oh, no wait... maybe that’s not such a good idea.” She looked at me as if I was made of glass. “Well, he said he had the perfect place in mind for dinner. I hope it’s that new Brazilian place. I hear that you need a reservation just to get in. Gosh, he’s so strong! Just look at him run!” She gave a lovesick sigh and I gave her a sisterly look that said, ’If you keep this up I’m gonna barf on your shoes.’ Who knows? Maybe I will.

  Michael glanced up at me as he ran by, flashing me a little smile that gave me shivers. I was not entirely sure I should even be allowing this kind of thing. How is it possible to know someone for such a short time and feel like this? If Dad, or even Mom, knew how I felt... wow. Danger. I looked at Kim. I guess I had to take the plunge.