A.I.R. Shattered Soul

by Amanda Booloodian

  “I am surprised to see you today,” Rider said when I arrived. “I thought you would be over at the Sanctuary.”

  “We were there through the night. Other agents are there now.”

  Rider nodded.

  “I wanted to stop by and see how you are,” I said.

  “Kind of bored after last night. That was the first excitement I have had in this world,” Rider said.

  “Your side isn't sore?” I asked.

  “My side?”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “Your side. Where I shot you.”

  “That was a scratch,” Rider said. “It healed quickly.”

  “Good to hear.” There was an awkward silence for a while. He was fine, so I figured it was time for me to go. Standing up, I said, “I wanted—”

  “Do you want to go do something?” Rider asked.

  “Um, what did you have in mind?” Going home didn't appeal to me, so I was up for almost anything.

  Rider shrugged. “I have no idea. After yesterday, I feel cooped up here.”

  “There are a lot of great state parks and hiking trails around if you want to go walking. Would you be interested?”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Rider said. “Is Logan joining us?”

  “Nope, just us.” I hesitated, “You're not going to try to kill me again, are you?”

  “I think I can avoid that.”

  “That's reassuring,” I said, heading out the door.

  The nearest state park was a large one, so I headed in that direction. When we stepped out of the car, I breathed the fresh warm air rustling through the area.

  “Which way are we going?” Rider asked.

  “Let’s head this way,” I said, stepping onto a trail. “There's an old tunnel up here that's pretty neat. Ghosts haunt the area above the tunnel. Sometimes when you're inside the tunnel, you can hear phantom noises.”

  “Ghosts?” Rider asked.

  “Ghosts are spirits of the dead.” Rider still looked puzzled, so I went into detail about specters and old ghost stories from the area as we walked. Rider wanted to see one, so I explained that most of the time they can't be seen, and that was kind of the point.

  It was turning out to be a pretty good day. We reached the tunnel and walked through it slowly, listening for phantom noises. I didn't hear anything, but Rider jumped and turned around a few times. He looked a little freaked out, but he also looked like he was having a really good time. Before we left the tunnel, I started making ghostly noises. Rider laughed and chased me out of the tunnel. We kept on walking.

  “What else do you do in the area?” Rider asked.

  “If you like to watch sports, there are games at the University.”

  “You watch them? Would you not have more fun playing the sport?”

  “I guess. I'm not really into either. Work keeps me pretty busy.”

  “I met a bunch of the Lost at the Farm. Fairies, centaurs, gnomes, and pixies, but no other werewolves.”

  “Logan mentioned that he met a few,” I said.

  “My dad lived here for a while, but he did not mention any other Werewolves,” Rider said.

  “When did your dad live here?” I asked.

  “He came over about thirty-five years ago. He stayed for a while. He met my mom and they had me, but my mom died soon after I was born. Dad and I went back to our world.”

  “I'm sorry about your mom.”

  “My dad talked about her some.”

  “Is that why you came to this world?”

  “One of the reasons.” Rider started to look uncomfortable about the shift in topics.

  “My dad passed away when I was really young. I remember him a little, but not much,” I said.

  “What do you remember about him?”

  I grinned. “For some reason, I remember our last Halloween together. He dressed up with me and we went trick-or-treating for hours. I was dressed as Tinkerbelle. I had my hair done, make-up, everything.” I reflected on the memory. “You know, Halloween is coming up.”

  “What is Halloween?”

  “It’s my favorite holiday. People dress up in costumes and kids go door to door for candy.”

  “Why do they dress up?”

  “It used to be to confuse the spirits. Or ward off spirits. Now people dress up to scare other people, or as a chance to pretend to be something or someone else for a night.”

  When the sun started to set, we swung around and headed back. The thought of being out after dark made me a little nervous, but I felt safe enough with Rider. He was intrigued by the idea of Halloween, and it led to discussions about other holidays. Easter thoroughly confused him.

  It was nearly full dark when we reached the tunnel. Once again, we walked slowly through, listening for noises that we couldn't explain.

  Rider grabbed my arm. “Cassie, I think I see something!”

  Chapter 13

  We crept forward slowly. “I see it!” I whispered.

  We stopped and watched a form move to the edge of the tunnel entrance. Rider broke into a run. I ran after him, laughing and excited about the prospect of catching up to one of the fabled ghosts. I had never seen one, but the company was sometimes called in to relocate ghosts and poltergeists.

  We ran out the opening and turned to the left, trying to spot where the figure had disappeared. Only it hadn't disappeared. Rider was thrown back. He slammed into me and we both thudded to the ground. Fear pulsed through my veins. I struggled to push Rider off me to reach my gun.

  The thing was tall, emaciated, and pale, with skin that hung around it as though it were an ill-made suit. This was no ghost.

  Fumbling a bit as Rider jumped back to his feet, I tried to unsnap the holster to get to my gun. I felt a strange new power rush over me. Lurid and rhythmic energy pulsed through the air. It held me enthralled and the pulsing went through to my core. I could feel it in every inch of my body.

  Rider's fury nearly threw me back, snapping me back to our situation. The pressure in the air increased. Rider lunged.

  Hurling Rider away, the figure turned to me. Unblinking eyes stared, glowing with an inner light. The crushing fury that belonged to Rider shifted.

  I managed to get off two shots before the creature lurched forward and struck me. Sharp pain tore through my body, as I flew back and smashed into the tunnel wall. I rolled over and took aim from the ground.

  Rider sprinted forward, struck, and retreated, before the creature could retaliate. My heart thudded in my chest as I waited to get a clear shot. Rider took a blow to the face and fell back. The pale skinned being darted towards me. I was struck again by rhythmic thumping. The sensation wrapped itself around me. Entranced, I could only stare.

  “Stop!” Rider’s yell was a command.

  The slack pale skin stopped moving. The pulsing stopped and I started to come to my senses.

  Shots echoed through the tunnel as I emptied my clip. Each bullet struck home. The monster screamed and charged towards me again. Rider came at it from the side.

  Staggering to my feet, I rushed toward the creature. I dove to the ground and snatched up my purse. Within seconds, I had a second clip in hand and jammed it into place.

  Claws slashed across my back. Where each nail ripped through skin, fire erupted from my flesh. Rider yelled as I lifted off the ground. It had me in hand. Agony poured through me and it pulled me up to its face. It drew me close. The peculiarly lit eyes were inches from my face.

  I pushed the gun into the folds of skin under its face and pulled the trigger. A shriek tore from the creature's throat. It dropped me.

  Rider used the distraction to grab the creature’s prone throat. The scream was short. Blood from the thing pooled on the ground around me. When the body was limp, Rider pushed the corpse aside.

  So much blood. How much of it was my own? My back felt scorched. Rider pulled me up, but the pain grew too intense. For a while, there was nothing.

  I started to become aware of what surrounded me. The air bru
shed by, light and warm before energy whipped around me in a flurry. Then I felt detached and floated away.

  As I rose up, my restraints fell away. The noise died away, but my eyes opened to increased activity. Rider was on the ground. He appeared to be injured, but no one was coming near him. Tears ran down his face. Something was cradled in his arms and he rocked back and forth. It wasn't until he yelled out that others approached. Vincent was there. Anguish, pain, and anger marred his features. He seemed unable to speak. Logan was there. There was no fluidity to his movements and he looked grim.

  Rider moved his bundle carefully onto the ground and I stared down onto myself.

  This is wrong, I thought, so wrong. I couldn't be dead. Yet, here they were, standing over my body.

  No! I thought vehemently. This wasn't going to happen today.

  Closing my eyes, I concentrated hard. Something was missing. I could feel parts of me that were torn away. It was like a puzzle that needed solving, only someone kept removing pieces. Sensing bits of energy around me, I concentrated harder, pulling it into myself. It became easier to spot the parts of me that were no longer attached and I pulled each one in. More pieces emerged and I wrapped them together. Parts began flying toward me on their own.

  The air felt tangible once again. Noises flooded back, although they weren't recognizable. Intense pain flared as the last pieces of the puzzle slammed into me. I cried out and it grew quiet.

  The ground trembled with hurried steps. Fierce agony shot through me when someone pulled me up. Tears began running down my face and I opened my eyes.

  Logan's was the first face I saw. He looked older, yet more real to me than he ever had. He said something and pulled me close to him. Individual sounds were amazingly clear, but they each came at me at such a rush that I could not distinguish one from the other. The entire world seemed to be on fast forward, while I was stuck in slow motion.

  Fighting through the pain and the assault of sound, I struggled to pull up the important facts: Logan, Vincent, and Rider. My mind was a tumble of half coherent thoughts. As I grabbed at them, I discovered the one I needed.

  “Logan,” My voice came out quiet and scratchy. Clearing my throat, I continued. “Is it dead?” There was a lurch as the feeling of slow motion died and the world sped up.

  Logan started laughing, though tears ran down his face. “It's dead.” He hugged me close to him, which made me wince in pain.

  “Is Rider okay?” I asked.

  “He's going to be fine,” Logan assured me, without pausing to check.

  Rider and I didn't get to go home. The doctor arrived on scene and insisted that we be taken to the Farm. An oxygen mask was thrust over my face before I could object. Not that I would have objected. My back felt scorched. After managing to push the mask away long enough to tell Logan to take Gran to the Farm, I settled in, face down on the bed.

  It wasn't an ambulance we went back in, but a work truck fitted so our beds wouldn't roll around. Several times on the ride back, I tried to fall asleep. Each time, the man that sat next to me made me wake up. He wasn’t nice about it either. It would be nice if I could say I made some witty or sarcastic remark, but I was too exhausted for witty, and in too much pain for sarcasm. I endured the trip in silence.

  Rider was silent on the bed next to me. Logan and Vincent didn't ride with us. Too many bodies, not enough space. When we reached the Farm, we were ushered onto the property in record time.

  Once again, I found myself in the medical ward at the office. Dr. Yelton had us wheeled into separate rooms. The doctor came in and kept talking to me, but I gave up listening. The words stopped making sense. There was too much pain and I wanted to sleep.

  When I woke up again, the discomfort was almost gone. The room was dark, but I had no idea if it was the same night or the next.

  “You're awake.” Vincent came into view, although slightly out of focus.

  “I think so.” My tongue felt thick in my mouth, but I felt pretty good. When I tried to wipe a stray hair out of my eyes, I discovered why. An IV pumped something into me. Whatever it was, I hoped they kept it coming.

  “How are you feeling?” Vincent asked.

  “Not bad, actually,” I responded. “How's Rider?”

  “He'll be fine soon. Werewolves heal quickly.” His voice was coarse.

  “Where is everyone? Gran and Logan?”

  “Logan is checking on his kids. Your grandmother went with him to pick some things up for you.”

  “And you stayed behind. You're not going to blame yourself for this, are you?” I asked, remembering our last conversation.

  “This wasn't my fault. This one's on you,” His voice had a sting to it, even though his face was a blank mask.

  “On me?” I asked.

  “All on you.” His anger lingered in the air, even though it didn't show on his face.

  Trying to wrap my brain around what he was saying was like trying to catch dandelion seeds in the wind. The drugs were making my mind too muddy. His words had a ring of truth to them.

  “What attacked us?” I asked.

  Vincent shrugged. “They don’t know yet, but there are tests that need to be run.”

  “What was it doing there?” I asked.

  Vincent's anger broke, marring his features. “You know why it was there.” His voice came out cold.

  I felt confused. The medicine was making my mind slow. Lifting my arm, I focused on where the IV entered. I looked it over as carefully as my sluggish brain would allow. Then I plucked it out.

  “What the hell?” He raised his voice, but he didn't sound as angry as he had a few moments earlier.

  Vincent grabbed my arm and put pressure on the spot where I had pulled out the IV. I took a few deep breaths and looked at him.

  “I know why it was there?” I asked.

  Before Vincent could reply, the door opened. I wasn't in a position to see who came in, which made me suddenly uncomfortable.

  “What are you doing?” It was Rider's voice.

  Vincent’s features went stony. “Go back to your room.”

  “Not with you in here yelling.” Rider came into view. He had a few bruises, but otherwise, he looked okay. Relief spread over me.

  “We were having a conversation,” Vincent said.

  “No, you were yelling,” Rider said.

  “Never mind, Vincent. How are you doing?” I asked. Vincent glared at me, but I ignored him. Well, I ignored him as much as I could, considering he was holding my arm.

  “I am well, but the doctor wants to run more tests.” Rider looked back and forth between Vincent and me. Finally, he turned to me and said, “Do you need assistance?”

  I shook my head. “I'm fine.” I tried to shake Vincent off my arm.

  “She ripped out her IV,” Vincent said.

  “The medicine tubes?” Rider asked.

  “I said, I'm fine,” I repeated. My mind was less muddled, but some of the pain had returned. Vincent carefully released the pressure on my arm. Once he had assured himself that I wasn't bleeding, he stepped away.

  “Do we know anything about what attacked us?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” said Vincent. “But you can count on more of them.” He turned and left the room.

  “Does that mean there are more in the area?” Rider asked.

  “I'm not sure what he means,” I said.

  I looked at Rider. The full impact of what Vincent said hit me. The entire attack was my fault. Without backup, I took one of the Lost who I was supposed to keep safe on a hike. Even after knowing that I had a target on my back. I didn't know anything about the thing that attacked me, but I knew there was a different monster in the area, and I went out anyway.

  “I'm really sorry about what happened,” I said.

  Rider was quiet for a bit. “Is that what he was yelling about?”

  “No, but that's what he's mad about.”

  “This caught both of us off guard. There is nothing to be sorry about.”
<
br />   “Actually.” I hesitated. “You know how you thought of me as dinner?”

  Rider nodded.

  “Well, you aren't the only one who thinks I should be on the menu. I knew that, and I took you out.”

  Rider looked confused. “Are we friends?” he asked.

  The question came out of nowhere. “Yes,” I said without thinking. “Up until the attack we were having a great time.”

  “I thought so, too,” Rider said. “As your friend, I did not think for a minute that you would not hold up your end of the fight. If you want to stay friends, you have to know that I will always hold up my end.” Without another word, he left.

  I closed my eyes. Even with my mind less muddled, I wasn't sure who was right and who was wrong anymore. The door opened again and I sighed.

  “Miss Heidrich,” Doctor Yelton said. “You are not permitted to pull these tubes out again.”

  Vincent followed the doctor in, but said nothing.

  “Sorry, Doctor,” I said.

  “You're going to do yourself more harm than good.” He inspected the IV before pulling out a new one and inserting the needle. “This is not to be removed until I remove it.”

  I nodded.

  Soon the medicine did its job and the doctor left. The pain that had flared up died away and I started drifting off.

  “I can't fix my mistake if you get yourself killed,” Vincent said.

  I probably should have been pissed, but the medicine lured me into sleep.

  When I opened my eyes again, Gran was sitting next to my bed.

  “Mornin', Sugar,” Gran said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” I said. “I'm surprised actually.”

  “You have a few stitches in your back. Not as many as they first thought you'd need. Whatever got ya had poison in its claws, so I imagine it felt worse than it looked.”

  “It felt pretty bad.”

  “Well, they found somthin' to counteract the poison. It took a while, but seems to have done the trick. Your back is lookin’ better already.”

  “So, I'm already on the mend.”