Airel

by Patterson, Aaron

  “I have news of my own, but you have to promise not to make a big deal out of it... I mean it.” I knew that it was like asking an addict to quit cold turkey, but I had to try.

  “Michael asked you out, didn’t he?” Kim had a look of glee stamped on her face and the look on mine must have been confirmation. “I knew it! He asked you out! Yesss!” She made the same gesture I had made in the car, like she had just scored a touchdown. “I was hoping he would, and he is sooo hot! Oh my gosh!” Then she looked alarmed. “You said yes, didn’t you? You had better have said yes, or I’ll kill you.”

  Death by Kim. Chalk up another murderous stalker. How many does that make now? I nodded and shook my head in defeat, grinning helplessly. “Kim, it’s not like I could have said no…”

  “Oh, Airel! I’m so excited! You and Michael, and me and James, we can go on, like, double dates! And hang out and talk about stuff! Oh my gosh! We should go shopping and get a new outfit for our first official dates of the school year!”

  Seriously, I don’t know what I did to deserve this. My best friend was going to drive me insane with the shopping and the—and the—my mouth went dry and my lips felt like they were thick, swollen shut from lack of water. I sat straight up, my back stiff, and all the tiny hairs on my neck and arms sounded the alarm. Across the field on the visiting team’s bleachers sat a blond haired man with black sunglasses hiding his evil eyes.

  Kim felt me tense up and stopped talking. “Uh-oh. Do you need a barf bag?” Then she followed my gaze across the green grass to the man in the far bleachers. “Who is that?” Kim asked in a whisper. She pushed her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose and peered out.

  I tried to respond, but I couldn’t because my mouth was so dry. A wave of raw heart-stopping fear rushed over my body. Kim was ditzy, but not dumb. She touched my arm, leaned over close to me, and whispered in my ear—so softly, I almost missed it, “It’s him!”

  It was him. He was right there. He was watching me. Watching with careful consideration and…something else. He knew. He knew that something was wrong with me. He wanted to see what it was. Or, maybe…he wanted to see what I would do. Maybe he wanted to scare me into silence.

  If he wanted to scare me, it was working. I was so scared that my hands were shaking. I felt weak. Oh, neat. Here’s something new and impossible. I totally need more of that. I saw it happening. It wasn’t slow-mo, not like a movie at all. This was real. The seat of the bleacher below came at my face shockingly fast and I knew this was going to hurt later.

  Chapter XXV

  I opened my eyes to see a black sky. The sun above was enclosed in a womb of smoke and smog. I saw jagged rocks the color of coal sticking up from the ground below at sickening angles.

  I was in what looked like a huge bird cage, except this one was square and made of rough iron bars with a plank floor. I could see that I was high above the ground in a tall and ancient tree.

  I looked out over the vast valley beyond the black rocks. Row upon row of mountain ranges were stacked against each other, rising and falling. The distance beyond me seemed to be impassable, even if I could get out of this cage. It was another world. It was so dark and so dead that nothing grew or lived. This ground was cursed–even the sun wore a cloak.

  I thought I was dreaming but the bump on my head proved to me that I was somehow…not. I did indeed pass out and eat the bleachers. I didn’t know quite how to explain it to myself. Wherever I was though, it was not beautiful. The air had a chill as a slight breeze made its way through the iron bars, making me shiver. There was no way in or out, as far as I could see.

  I stood, and felt my little cage sway back and forth, bobbing up and down as I shifted my weight. I froze. I was hanging. I peered out through the bars to see that my cage was wedged between a couple of branches, balanced on them. Maybe if I got too jumpy it would topple over, causing me to plummet to my death.

  I wondered then, if I died in this dream or in this world, would I be dead in the real world? Maybe I was in a hospital right now, with a nasty cut on my head, and the doctors were trying to revive me from a coma.

  I made my way slowly to the center. The whole thing groaned with each step. Long fat floorboards spanned from one end of the room to the other. I counted twelve across. Each one was held in place with rusty nails.

  Not wanting to fall to my death in some crazy dream world only to find out that was where I would spend eternity, I stopped and looked around for something—anything I might have missed that could help.

  I figured if there was one rule for this situation, it was simply this: do whatever needed to be done. I really didn’t know what to do, though. Nothing came to mind other than one stupid, harebrained thought. Maybe death is the way out…in a dream…

  I heard pages turning and that strange, seemingly friendly voice in the back of my brain whispering to me. Now I could pick it out from my other more normal thoughts. In other words, I could tell when something wasn’t Airel. It was like this tiny yet powerful voice that I couldn’t push to the background. I had to listen.

  “Be careful, Airel, things are not what they seem.”

  I ran toward the bars of my cage and slammed my shoulder into it, grunting as I did. It hurt. My little cage rocked, groaning in protest, and I felt my world turning horribly. I could feel the rhythm of the swinging I had created and decided to exploit it. I pushed hard, throwing my weight into the wall. The cage leaned crazily on its side and I looked straight down to the sharp daggers of rock below. I felt a lurch and heard the snap of dead branches as the huge old tree gave up its grip.

  I was falling.

  The cage tumbled, turning over and over, and flashes of black shards reached up for me from below. It was all happening too fast. I screamed, hoping but dreading that someone would hear me crying out for help. Deep down I knew there was no one that could help me.

  The ancient tree had to be over two hundred feet tall; it took an eternity to hit the ground. The explosion of wood was deafening at impact and the clang of iron against stone ran right over my ears, drowning me out as I screamed.

  Then there was pain. This couldn’t be a dream. The impact hurt badly, and to my surprise I was injured. I supposed that was a good thing because, if nothing else, it meant I was alive. I lifted my head, which was pounding like a church bell on Sunday, and surveyed the destruction.

  The bird cage had left wooden shrapnel in a radius around me. Some of the bars lay at my feet, twisted and bent.

  I checked myself for damage and found that I did have a problem. My left arm was broken, hanging, and ripped almost completely off at the elbow. Blood squirted out with each heartbeat and I could see the bone sticking out like a tooth. Blood ran down my arm and dripped off my dead fingers.

  I was going to bleed to death.

  The panic I thought would come never did, though the pain was so sharp and overpowering I could feel myself going into shock. This was it. I was dying, and in a matter of minutes I would be dead in this godforsaken place. I would die alone and confused, not knowing how or why I was here, or where here even was.

  Then, I felt something cast a thin shadow over me. A thick wave of nausea washed through my stomach. I was sitting in the pile of debris I had made, holding my wrecked arm in place with my good one, my back turned to whatever was standing behind me.

  I could smell the stench of rotten flesh and mold. It was so strong I could taste it in my mouth, making me want to spit it out. It was vile.

  The sound of clicking and gurgling sent shivers down my spine. I didn’t want to look. But I had to know. Something within me was demanding that I turn to face whatever was there. I turned. What I saw made me wish for death.

  The thing had a long black cloak with a massive hood pulled low. All that could be seen in the darkness were two dark red glowing eyes. Something wet and slimy dripped from the lip of the hood and made a puddle at its feet. I was frozen in fear, staring at it, unable to look away.

  It reached up slowly wi
th white and withered hands and pulled the hood back to reveal a dark mass of nothingness; an empty void where the face should be. It managed a grotesque smile in spite of this, staring down at my arm, drooling clotted slime all over the front of its robe, leaving a long stinking stain.

  I felt something move by my leg and jumped with fright. I wrenched my gaze away from the figure before me to find my fingers brushing against my leg. My arm was whole again. The blood had dried and I let go of my arm, stretching it out to test it. It was good as new, as if it had never been broken, gushing blood, or hanging by a thread of flesh. I flexed and wiggled my fingers. There was no shooting pain; not so much as a scar was left where the bloody mess had been.

  The thing screeched like a dying owl and splattered me with brown snot and slime. I recoiled and crouched down, ready for the attack. It came right at me, and I reached out to resist the monster. But as soon as I did a bolt of lightning exploded between us, throwing me backward. I landed some distance from the screeching thing. I saw it coming toward me with unreal speed and a huge black rock in its withered white hands. It raised the rock overhead, meaning to crush me. I rolled, but not fast enough. The rock caught me on the side of my head, crushing the right side of my face.

  I saw bright white light and the strange world vanished painfully.

  Chapter XXVI

  1250 B.C. Arabia

  Kreios and Yamanu were fast. Not long after they set off from Yamanu’s shack, they made their rendezvous with Zedkiel, Maria, and Kreios’s precious baby girl before sun rise. They were encamped among giant ferns in a thickly wooded forest, the sound of the river not too far distant. They were half a day’s journey from where Kreios had left them.

  Maria must not have been able to go any farther. He hoped they were in time to save the baby that grew in her belly.

  Kreios felt a tightening in his gut every time he heard water moving. His kind could survive great wounds, but drowning was a great danger. He had never been close, avoiding it at all costs.

  Zedkiel stood when his brother arrived, glancing at his wife with a worried look. “She is losing strength. I believe she needs sleep and a good bed in which to rest for the remainder of her time.” In answer to an inquisitive glance from Kreios, he added, “We did not have any trouble along the way, but something tells me if we do not hurry the trouble will come.”

  Kreios looked toward the small tent his brother had pitched, listening for his baby. She was lodged in Maria’s arms, fast asleep, her content and beautiful face radiant. He then turned back to conference with the warriors now assembled. “You remember Yamanu. He will help us to Ke’elei and then we will find out what this Seer wants with me. We will go at first light, after she has had a full night’s rest.”

  As he spoke, Kreios was searching the woods around them. His senses filtered through the noises and movements, picking out anything unnatural or out of place.

  Zedkiel took Yamanu by the hand. “Thank you for coming. We would be lost without you.”

  Yamanu smiled in the darkness, causing all his teeth to gleam in the moonlight. “I am at your service, friend. I only hope we can make it to safety without our enemy seeing through my shadow.”

  The camp did not have a fire that night. Kreios left the group to stand watch in the boughs of a tall tree. He did not trust his senses completely; he needed every advantage. The Seer, the powerful leader of the Brotherhood, might be able to track them in spite of every precaution they took.

  Kreios let his mind drift back to his childhood once again; to times when war, violence, and death had not yet been fully tested. After he and Yamanu had learned to fly, they could not get enough of it. They took to the skies whenever they had the chance. Yamanu was slower but could keep up as long as Kreios gave him a chance. Kreios grunted, amused as he thought how he had even let him win a few of their many races just to keep him interested.

  But when he was alone, Kreios would go to the tower and launch himself straight up as fast as he could, until he reached the outer edge, where the clouds stopped, the sky becoming black. He would turn then, to look below him at the majesty of his home.

  In a flash of speed, he would throw himself, rocketing downward toward the ground; pushing himself faster and faster. The first time he made a sonic boom he thought he would die. After all, it hurt so much. The flesh of his face and arms, he reminisced, felt like they would rip from his frame.

  A subtle and irregular sound brought Kreios back to reality; alert, with all of his senses standing at attention, ready for whatever was waiting. He closed his eyes in the darkness and listened.

  The river in the distance swirled over rocks, under the remaining ice. But back behind him he heard something so faint that it could have been nothing at all.

  Breathing.

  It sounded soft but ragged, coming in short intervals. The sound of crickets and night owls masked it for the most part, but there it was, just behind all the other sounds. This breathing was not coming from a man—or even a beast–of this world.

  Kreios knew what it was. He froze in place, a cold stone statue of a god in a tree. He allowed it to hide there, behind him. Both supernaturals were waiting for an exact moment.

  Kreios shut down the sounds of the wood, the animal life all around him, and listened…in, out…in, out…then nothing. The foul beast knew Kreios was aware of its presence and shriveled, flying off to make its report to its master.

  It was time to go. They had been discovered. The faster they found refuge in the city, the better.

  Kreios was on the ground, sprinting silently. He shook Zedkiel awake and said, “We must go—now!”

  Chapter XXVII

  Boise, Idaho. Present day.

  I was alive. Not in a world of black mountains or shrieking monsters. Nope. I was on my back on soft, green grass with the whole football team looking at me as if I had three eyes. My head throbbed. I reached up to touch the bump that was forming on my forehead. That’s probably nice and ugly.

  “Are you okay, Airel? Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up?” Coach Dennis looked down at me with a concerned scowl on his face. I could tell that he wanted to yell at me; command me not to pass out again because it interfered with his practice, and football was serious business.

  “I’m fine!” I shouted at him because I was scared out of my wits and more embarrassed than I could ever remember. “…Just slipped…hit my head,” I lied, looking for emotional cover. “I wasn’t paying attention and... ” Kim shot a look my way, but miracle of miracles—she kept her mouth shut. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that the blond man was gone. I guess I wasn’t surprised. I wondered if he was just a figment of my imagination, but then, Kim had seen him too.

  “I’ll have one of the boys walk you to the nurse’s station to get looked at,” said the coach, snapping his fingers at his minions. “Never mess with a head injury.”

  Michael piped up, “I’ll take her, Coach.” He was already at my side, lifting me into his arms like a helpless victim before I could reject this huge escalation of embarrassment.

  My mouth was not responding to my frantic attempts to say something. Kim had a stupid grin on her face that suggested I had fallen on purpose, just so I could get carted off in Michael’s arms. Yeah Kim, it’s a total conspiracy—I’m not actually your friend, either.

  Coach barked one last order at Michael. “Fine. Come right back, though! We have two more drills to run and you need to run them.” Michael nodded and I could smell the sweat from his skin. I didn’t mind it. It smelled kinda good, anyway, and I couldn’t help but get carried away with the fact that my dream guy—heck, any girl’s dream guy—was not only paying attention to me, not only close to me, not only holding me…but he wasn’t afraid to sweat on me, either.

  Michael whispered just low enough for me to hear. “You should be more careful. Next time you might break your neck.” He had a smirk on his face.

  I tried to sound mad, but it came off as weak instead. “I’m fine.�
� I thought I sounded a little like Lady MacBeth, protesting too much. “You don’t have to carry me. I can walk just fine on my own.”

  “Sure you can, but it’s more fun to carry you.” I nearly fainted, feeling his strong arms enfolding me. In spite of everything that had happened these past few days, all the chaos and weirdness, I felt secure in his arms. I could have died happy and did not want him to let me go, ever. “We wouldn’t want you to slip and fall again. That could be embarrassing.”

  Oh, noooo. We wouldn’t want me to be embarrassed.

  He smiled at me. I was in heaven. All was gone, forgotten, forgiven. I just really love the whole entire world right now… I wrapped my arms around his neck, to help him. If I was a daring girl I would have rested my head on his chest, but that wasn’t gonna happen. At least not right now. “Yeah, like this isn’t embarrassing, you holding me like this and…and…”

  “And what?” He laughed.

  “Never mind. Just walk, mister, and try not to drop me if you can manage it.” Kim ran ahead of us, catching up from flirting with James, and opened the door to the nurse’s station. She smiled at me as we passed, rolling her eyes obnoxiously.

  Michael set me down on my feet, and for a moment he was Superman and I was Lois Lane and we had just had our moonlight flight. I wanted to pull him closer to me, but I didn’t dare. I decided to sit down, just to be safe. He sat right next to me. Thank you, God!

  Michael looked at me with concern, staring into my eyes. Our faces were only a few inches away and I could feel his breath. He smelled like PowerAde and laundry soap—and sweat. His eyes held me in a magical lock that I couldn’t break as they searched for something. But I couldn’t tell what he was trying to find.