by Kody Boye
“Did you take care of it?”
“We did,” Guy said. “Did you watch the tape?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Were you able to tell where the light came from?”
“No,” I replied. “It just… comes out of nowhere.”
“Seemingly nowhere,” Guy said. “There was likely a source that we just couldn’t see.”
“Or something magical that was tailing the creature,” Aerick offered.
“So we’re convinced now that it’s Supernatural in nature?” I asked.
Guy nodded. Aerick, too, offered a nod of his own, but not without shivering and drawing his hands around his robed body.
“We should report this to Travis Alvarez,” I said, thumbing through the series of apps on Guy’s phone until I came to the phone icon.
“It’s too late to call someone now,” Guy said, pressing a hand against my shoulder. “I’ll deal with it in the morning.”
“But what if it’s too late in the morning?” I replied. “What if they come back again?”
“This was a warning, Jason.”
“A warning for what?” I asked. I turned to face Guy and found his face to be a portraiture of unease. “Guy… what aren’t you telling me?”
“We’ve been marked, Jason. By the Sanguine.”
“What’re you—”
“They leave mummified animals as warnings to those Supernaturals they feel have wronged them,” Aerick said. “We used to get a bunch at the compound. Pierre always dealt with it, of course, by sacrificing other pack mates, but now that he’s gone, and that you’ve been the one who’s wronged them—”
“They want their revenge,” I sighed. “After all this time.”
“There’s nothing keeping them from being open about it any longer,” Guy added. “We’ve been marked in the most blatant way possible. Now all we have to do is wait and see what happens next.”
“The Agency needs to be called,” I said, stressing the word as if my life depended on it—which, at that moment, it probably did.
“And they will be,” Guy said. “But not now. No one will come tonight—not Agency, not Sanguine. We’re safe.”
“For now,” Aerick mumbled.
Guy shot the Howler a look that could’ve turned him to stone. Aerick, meanwhile, merely shrugged and rounded the stairway before he began to ascend.
“That’s it?” I asked as Guy began to pursue the younger man. “We’re just going to go to bed and see what happens in the morning?”
“Jason—”
“No. Don’t Jason me, Guy. I’m fucking scared out of my mind and you can’t say that it’s all right.”
“I’m not saying it’s all right,” the older Kaldr sighed. “I’m just saying that there’s little to nothing that can be done at this point in time.”
“I want a gun.”
“I’ll get you one.”
“And I want it by tomorrow evening.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Guy said. “But for now, come on. Come to bed. Get some sleep. Aerick starts his new job in the morning and we could all use the rest—especially you. Don’t you have to go in and start setting up your classroom tomorrow?”
Was going to the high school even an option at this point? Now that I’d been marked, did that not mean that they could target me anywhere, especially at a public school?
I shook my head.
No.
I couldn’t dwell on that, or even begin to think that such a thing would even be possible.
With that sentiment in mind, I rose and began to follow Guy up the stairs—hoping, beyond every shadow of a doubt, that any attack that would come upon us would happen on fair and unaligned ground, and not in the presence of mortals.
10
I tried to keep my mind on things other than last night’s happenings as I continued to make a list of the items I felt would be necessary for my classroom. Standing within the skeletons of a learning establishment that contained only the desks and the few computers that existed on the far wall and in my corner of the room, I struggled to concentrate as I wrote down the names of books I wanted to incorporate into my own little library and sighed as waves of panic continued to assault me.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen were the Sanguine to attack me while I was teaching at this school.
The blood—
The death—
The mayhem—
I shook my head to clear the image of a blood-soaked classroom from my head just in time for a knock to come at the door.
“Mr. DePella?” the principal asked, pushing the door open a crack before fully entering the classroom.
“Yes sir?” I asked.
“I expect things are going well here?”
“Everything’s going fine,” I replied, lifting my head from my work to view the imposing man. I lowered my clipboard and smiled as he surveyed the room. “Was there something you needed?”
“I was actually here to ask if there was anything you needed,” the man replied, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“Nothing that I can think of at the moment, sir.”
“Good, good.” The man paused. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something—that is, if you’re not already preoccupied.”
“No, no. Sit.”
The man seated himself at the edge of a long table that ran along the back of the classroom and looked at me with steel-grey eyes that I felt could see every one of my faults, my worries, my insecurities. I’d expected him to come here nonchalantly—as if there was nothing wrong—but knowing that there was an issue that he needed to address was enough to set my blood ablaze.
Had someone already complained about me, the newest member of Falls Burrow’s faculty? I mean, it wasn’t as if they’d updated the website to inform people about who I was, right?
You don’t know that, my conscience chided me.
Either way, I stood there—steeling myself for what was to come—and waited for him to say whatever it was he would say.
“We’ve been getting… complaints, already,” the principal said, “from the student body’s parents about there being a Supernatural within our midst.”
“What kind of things are they saying, sir?”
“That they’re going to pull their children out of the school, that they’ll make sure that they won’t let their children be instructed by you. Things of that nature.”
“And your response to all of this is?”
“That you pose no danger,” the man replied. “That you’re simply an individual gifted with talents that most people do not have. And,” the man added, “that you were the only applicable candidate since Mrs. Root’s departure.”
“I see,” I said, setting my clipboard on a desk and then perching myself atop another like a stray crow who’d wandered from its murder. I waited for the man to proceed further before clearing my throat and stating: “There’s really nothing else that can be done, is there?”
“No sir. People will complain, incidents will occur, but I’ll inform you that you are as much a member of our faculty as any other teacher is here—and you will be treated as such.”
“That means a lot to me, sir. Thank you.”
“Was there anything you wanted to address to me?” the man replied. “Any thoughts? Any concerns?”
I wanted so desperately to tell him about the threats that had been made at our persons—the mark that had been left upon Aerick, Guy and I’s doorstep—but knowing that doing so would only serve to cause further damage, I remained silent in the matter. For that reason, I shook my head, forced a smile, and said, “No sir. There’s nothing that needs to be addressed.”
“Good. Class starts in two weeks. Are you ready, Mr. DePella?”
“More than ready, sir.”
And that was the truth, too, because I wanted to live as normal a life as possible for as long as I could.
I knew the stakes were high. I knew that things would eventually co
me to a boiling point. And I knew that the Sanguine, duplicitous as they were, would attack wherever and whenever they wanted to.
I couldn’t let fear, doubt and potential persecution hold me back.
I had to live life as I saw fit—or risk having it swallow me up in the process.
PART 5
1
It was with the arrival of the Baptist Church that I realized things would not be easy from here on out.
Having not expected visitors at such an hour of the afternoon on a Sunday, I’d risen like it was any other day and had lounged around the house—taking comfort in the silence of an empty home during a time in which Aerick was at work and Guy had yet to rise from bed. The TV on, a can of soda in hand, a grilled cheese sandwich laid before me, I was just starting to get into the program I was watching when the doorbell rang and the hairs on my arms stood on end.
At first I thought that it was the Sanguine—that they had come and were ready to take the blood they felt was rightfully theirs.
Shortly after opening the door, however, and seeing the missionaries on my doorstep, I frowned before asking, “Can I help you?”
“Are you… one of them?” one of the missionaries—a young boy who appeared to be barely out of his teens—asked.
“One of… what?” I replied.
“The Supernaturals?”
I blinked—knowing, wholeheartedly, that my eyes were the one distinguishing trait that could strike fear into anyone’s hearts, minds and souls. They were my Achile’s heel, my broken wing, the feather whose sheath had not shed properly, and it was for that reason, in staring at the young man and his female companion, that I realized I could not lie.
With that in mind, I nodded, cleared my throat, and said, “Yes. I am.”
“Of what per-suh-suh-suasion?” the missionary asked.
“Svell Kaldr.”
The words—so natural from my mouth—must have appeared foreign and even toxic to them, for the moment I said it the two retreated, as if repulsed by the very notion of my existence.
Had I not been as unsettled as I was, I probably would have laughed. Given my circumstance, however, I could do little more than stare.
“Was there anything you needed?” I asked, opening the door a bit wider, as if beckoning them to come in.
“No,” the girl said, before the boy could open his mouth and stutter anything further. “Thank you for your time.”
With that, they turned and walked down the stairs, then down the incline that led to the sidewalk that bordered the row of townhouses along East 12th Street.
“You shouldn’t have answered the door,” Guy said from the stairway as I closed and bolted the door behind me.
“I wasn’t thinking,” I replied, turning to face him. “I’m still not used to people thinking that my eyes are more than just—”
“Cosmetic?” Guy asked. I nodded in response. The man—dressed only in a pair of sweatpants—descended and approached me, only to set a hand on my shoulder a short moment later. He sighed, then, and tangled his hand within the back of my hair before pulling me close. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“You think they’re going to make problems for us?” I asked.
“The Baptists?” Guy asked.
“How’d you know they were Baptists?” I frowned.
“They have a church just right around the corner from here. I’d expected they’d show up. I just didn’t realize when.”
“Oh,” I said, then closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“Hey,” Guy said, taking hold of my shoulders. “This is nothing for you to worry about. Seriously. They’ll come, say their peace about their God and what they think He thinks is right, then leave us be. It’s not like we’re going to get people protesting on our front lawns.”
“Don’t be so sure of that,” I sighed. “I have a bad feeling.”
2
The bus that Aerick was scheduled to arrive home on had just rolled up to the stop directly across the street when the Baptists arrived. Carrying signs that condemned our existence under various verses, they stood just outside our property and on the lines where they were likely able to protest without fear of persecution.
“What’s up with the Jesus freaks?” Aerick asked as I opened the front door for him.
“They’ve come to inform us that we don’t belong,” I sighed.
Aerick cast a glance behind him, looked down at his hand, and considered what appeared to be his middle finger for several long moments before he said, “Fuck it.”
“Aerick,” I started.
“Fuck you, assholes,” he said, raising his middle finger for God and all the world to see. “Leave us the hell alone!”
“You don’t belong here!” a woman cried.
“Get out!” another man screamed.
The crowd surged as if it were a wave toward the edge of our property, but stopped before they could cross the swell in the hill. It seemed, at that moment, that God had lain an Almighty mark—and that He had commanded that none cross. For that, I was at least comfortable, as I possessed the knowledge that they would not cause trouble upon our property. Seeing them out there, however—through the windows and out the open front door—was enough to unsettle me.
With a sigh, I took hold of Aerick’s arm and dragged him just in time for someone to scream, “FAGS ARE FREAKS.”
I paused.
Had they just said what they thought they had?
Apparently my proximity to Aerick had given away our relationship.
“They’d flip if they knew the three of us were an item,” Aerick mumbled as he entered the home.
I locked the door behind him and sighed. Guy stood nearby, his phone pressed to his ear.
“Austin PD?” he asked into the phone. “Yes. This is Guy Winters. I’d like to report a disturbance on East 12th Street.”
“You’re calling the cops?” I asked, stepping forward.
Guy nodded and lifted a finger to his lips to silence me. “Uh huh. Yes. I said East 12th. There’s a group of Baptists picketing our front lawn. Well, no. They’re not on our front lawn, per se, but they’re close enough to where I feel they’ll become violent. You’ll send someone out? Great. Thank you. Goodbye.” He pulled the phone away and tapped a few buttons on it before lowering it and turning to face Aerick and I. “They’re sending a patrol car over now.”
“Do you think they’ll be able to do anything?” I asked. “I mean, isn’t this technically a peaceful protest?”
“For now,” Aerick said. “Who knows what they’ll do.”
“They’re Baptists, Aerick. What’re they going to do? Throw rocks through our windows?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Aerick replied. “Especially since, yannow, they’re picketing us.”
“Close the blinds and ignore them,” Guy said. “Let the cops deal with this.”
I nodded and stepped forward to draw the curtains.
Hopefully Guy was right—and that the cops could, within their jurisdiction, make the church leave.
Even hearing their voices was enough to set me on edge.
3
A police cruiser came, the congregation left, and with their departure came the realization that this would likely not be the last time we would see them.
Seated within the living room with our heads down and our hearts heavy, I struggled to take to heart the reality that the church could do whatever they wanted so long as they did not set foot upon our property.
“Jason,” Aerick said.
“Yeah?” I replied.
“You ok?”
I couldn’t say whether or not I was. On one hand, I was relieved that they were gone, but on another was dreading the return of what would undoubtedly be the beast, the monster, the creature that dwelt within all men’s hearts.
Hate.
I closed my eyes and tightened my hand into as hard a fist as possible in an effort to ground myself to the real and physical world. When my knuckles popped, however, an
d tore me from the thoughts that threatened to swallow my being, I lifted my head to face Aerick and gave him a short, resounding nod. Yes, it would say. I am ok.
Even though I was terrified out of my fucking mind.
With everything that was going on, I didn’t think I could afford to tell the truth. For that reason, I simply nodded as I faced him and watched as his face changed from unease to a mixture of absence and consideration.
Guy, on the other hand, appeared to see through my ruse, as his eyes had narrowed and his brows furrowed to tight, almost indistinguishable points. When he opened his mouth to start in on me, Aerick cleared his throat and said, “I think everything’s going to be just fine.”
“You think?” I asked with a sigh.
“Yeah,” the younger man said, reaching out to set his hand on Guy’s hip, “I do.” Whether the action was to distract Guy from going in on me or just to try and clear the air I wasn’t sure, but when the older Kaldr sighed and melted against Aerick’s side, I nodded and stood, ready to face them and offer them my most sincerest look of determination. When I found that I couldn’t, however—and when I stared into Guy’s eyes and witnessed the I know this is bullshit look that he was so perfect at giving—I sighed and reached down to shrug my hands into my pockets.
“Why don’t you go take a nap?” Aerick said. “Guy and I will do dishes or something.”
“Or something,” I mumbled as I rounded and then began to ascend the stairs.
Neither man responded as I disappeared up the stairwell.
4
The day passed by slowly—with morning eclipsing into afternoon and then afternoon falling into dusk. I hadn’t meant to sleep as long as I had—if only because I was determined to get up and face the day head-on—but when I finally opened my eyes around six-thirty in the evening, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
Near dark, the street lamps were just beginning to wink to life—and outside, the sun was bleeding pinks and orange across the deadly horizon.
“Guy!” I called, clearing my throat before adding, “Aerick?”
Neither responded.
With a great exhale, I threw my legs over the side of the bed, shimmied into a pair of jeans with effort hindered by my groggy state, and made my way down the stairs only to find that there was a note sitting on the coffee table in front of the TV.
