Against the Fallen

by Devin Lee Carlson

  “Hitch a ride.”

  Sabree huffed. “Have you ever tested this seagull theory of yours with added baggage?” How would his body react? “Why don’t we use JLS from here to where the White Ghost is kept and back again?”

  “Good question. First, I have to envision where it is that I want to go. Second, I’ve never tested it with someone in tow.”

  “So, I’m the Guinea pig? Brilliant.” Sabree backed away when Brian reached out for him.

  “Easy. All I have to do is grab you like this.” Brian wrapped his arms around Sabree’s chest. Pinned together nose to nose, Brian tilted his head slightly to see the path ahead or better yet, so their faces were less intimate. “Hang on.”

  “Hang on? You got me,” Sabree cried as the townhouse disappeared. Darkness then brightness. A force tugged his skin as if a leaf blower blasted him in the face, released it, and tugged again. The skin around his lips stretched back to his cheeks and nose. His stomach leapt into his throat. His head spun like a top.

  Brightness blinded him for a second until he could see beyond his feet along the shore. His stomach climbed up his throat until he heaved. Surprisingly enough, the pilot had predicted such a reaction and sidestepped. Sabree wiped his mouth on his sleeve and glared at him. “Holy Christ. How do you handle it? You must be part seagull.”

  “I’m the navigator and pilot all in one. I know where I’m going.” Brian placed his hands on Sabree’s shoulders to steady him. “You won’t have to worry about another trip like that until it’s time to leave.

  His dizziness subsiding, Sabree focused on the island. Decayed seaweed and salty air assaulted his nostrils. His eyes watered as he scanned the early morning horizon, the sandy beach, and the thick shrubbery inland as he circled in place. The remote island hid all signs of civilization: no resorts, no beach goers, nor thirst-quenching amenities. In its center, the forest resembled an overindulged tick surrounded by pale skin. From the tick’s back rose a single peak.

  “A wee bit chilly,” Brian said, pulling his fleece jacket around his neck. Better put on our hats and gloves. Ease the weight of the packs.”

  The breeze Brian mentioned stung Sabree’s cheeks. He dug out a hat and pair of mittens. Before he donned the mitts, he pulled a stone out of his pocket. Sabree held it up and twirled in place. Not once did it light up or buzz a signal. Surely in Brian’s hand, enabled by his anti-ness, the stone would behave as it should. In his own hand, nothing but a soothing stone at best.

  “Catch. This GPS stone will only work for you.” Sabree hurled the useless trinket to Brian. “It will help us locate the keep.”

  The stone sailed toward Brian’s face. “Hey. Stop throwing stones.” His whispered laughter faded when he caught it with ease. “Well, the island hasn’t curbed my reflexes.”

  “Maybe all your Fallen gifts are anti-powered. Try testing your speed.”

  “Brace yourself.”

  Clenched for the whirlwind and stinging sand, Sabree tightened his stance and held his sunglasses in place. Sand stung his face as Brian zipped around him a few times, speeding up until his body blurred. The blur darted down the shore and back. “Show off.”

  Good news or not, this meant Brian could go on without him; however, Sabree had to be the one who asked the White Ghost how to remedy his condition. If the creature detected archangel blood in Brian’s veins, it might disfavor him and refuse to speak.

  “Don’t worry,” Brian said, patting his shoulder, “I’m not going anywhere. We go together or not at all.” He glanced at the stone that glowed neon blue when he raised it toward the center of the island. “Looks like we go straight.” Then Brian paused. “Where do you get these stones? Some Malakhim factory?”

  “Not sure where they come from. Magic?” Their banter reminded Sabree of the good-ole days, the scavenger hunts, except back then, they were on opposing sides. He slowed to let Brian take the lead. “Worry never crossed my mind. I know you have my back.”

  “So, team Brian all the way.” Brian came to a stop and dropped his pack. “Bloody hell!”

  “What?” Sabree’s hearts started to pump. Sweat sprinkled his forehead. “We can’t give up already.” He used telepathy in case someone had joined their party, uninvited.

  “It’s effing hot. A few minutes ago, it was freezing. Must be a hundred degrees. Humid too.” Brian removed his fleece jacket, hat, and gloves.

  “I thought you preferred the heat.” After wiping his forehead with his sleeve, Sabree removed his also and tossed it inside his pack. “Cold one minute, hot the next. My guess is Malakhim-controlled weather to make our lives miserable. Pleasant compared to the booby traps we’ll encounter near the keep.”

  “Aye, of that I’m sure. Let’s go.”

  3 3 3

  Six hours into the hike through thick shrubs, enduring temperatures that lingered around 110-degrees, and numerous Colton tabs later, I trudged on and paused often until Sabree caught up. Unable to use his Fallen gifts, the slowpoke’s incessant mumbles ceased, replaced with threats if I didn’t stop.

  “Enough already. We’ve been at this for hours.” Sabree’s sweat-beaded forehead scanned the vista for shade. He blew a kiss at the lone mangrove nearby. “If this is what humans endure when they travel from one place to another, then this is Hell on Earth. Whose idea was this?” He held up a hand to stop me from answering the obvious. “I know, I know, ’twas I.”

  My sympathetic smirk met Sabree’s scowl. With the baseball cap shielding my face, I rubbed my eyes and pointed at the tree line ahead. “We have a few miles to go until we reach the heart of the forest.” My finger pointing upward, I hoped Sabree noticed the final obstacle. Beyond the thicket of mangrove trees emerged a single peak. “The shade might harbor traps.” The weird mangrove shapes reminded me of landlocked jellyfish.

  “What could be worse than this heat?”

  “Really long—super long—fat snakes, large spiders that parachute from overhead branches, flesh-eating quicksand.” I smiled a toothy grin.

  “Merde, I hope no one heard your gruesome imagination. You never fail to jinx our adventures.” Sabree swaggered on to take the lead for once, marching toward the shade tree. A few steps later, under the tree, he yelled, “My ankle.” A yelp followed and he flailed face-first into the shrubs.

  Shouts drowned out the light breeze. I cringed. The hot draft felt like dragon’s breath, a chain-smoking beast. “Stop fooling around.” I reached for Sabree’s pack to pull him upright and let go when he cried a girly scream.

  Yanking off my pack, I dug inside for the headlamp and put it on over my cap. Spread on all fours, I sprayed the light in Sabree’s direction to find out what had hold of him. All I could see were thorny vines and Sabree’s leg and boot tangled amongst them. I drew out a knife to cut him free. A drop of blood trickled around Sabree’s ankle and dripped onto the ground.

  Wait a sec. I smeared a finger over the crimson pool. Blood not dust. A hissing sound tickled my ears, the rustling growing louder, closer. Not good. I sat up on my haunches and squinted until movement from above snagged my attention. The lone mangrove’s umbrella-like top shimmered to life as though awakened by the smell of blood. “Crap. Get up, Sabree!”

  The khaki-green crusade scurried down the trunk onto the ground. I ducked into the brush and moved my head to scatter the beam. Long slithering centipedes crawled along the vine toward the catch-of-the-day—Sabree’s leg. One curled toward the light as it dropped off Sabree’s boot onto his skin. Mouth opened wide, it flashed rows of tiny fangs. One or two piranha-like centipedes no problem, a heap of the beasties though, and look out. My throat constricted as perhaps thousands crept toward us.

  The centipede that showed off its teeth bit into flesh. Sabree yelped. The army of centipedes behind copycatted the lead bug and chomped. Eau de Ariane. Had she not been pregnant, I would have blamed her for this attack. Spying upon us from afar.

  The combined clatter of tiny teeth and Sabree’s cries reverberated between my
eardrums. Something skittered up my arm. “Oh, no you don’t.” My entire body vibrated, my hands and arms even faster as I dove into hyperdrive. Sabree’s kicking boots and centipedes froze in mid-action. I whipped my hands in karate chops like a weed whacker, shooting minced vines and centipedes into the distance.

  Gasping for breath, I bent over on sweat-soaked knees. Sabree scrambled to his feet. Laughter echoed across the ground cover. All around us, I had mowed a five-foot circumference clear of plant life and bugs.

  “Wait.” I shot out a hand to pluck a surprised-looking centipede from Sabree’s tousled hair. My fingers scrunched the bug. Little legs and snot-green goo oozed from my fist. I almost gagged but kept it from Sabree. “Gotcha.” I wiped the dead bug on his pack. For a fleeting instant, I thought I saw a huge centipede attached to the entire pack. A blink and it went away.

  “Thanks,” Sabree mumbled as he brushed himself off. Another centipede wiggled across his shirt. He danced in place, his hands and feet thrashing about in a dyslexic version of the jig. My crude remark made him pat down his head next. His eyes scanned the ground below. “What just happened?”

  “Beep beep did.” I bowed. “Shot into high gear to jettison the chomping centipedes. I cleared the brush as well. Did it so fast the vines had no chance. They didn’t even cut me.”

  “So, you’re the guilty party who makes all those mysterious crop circles.”

  As if on cue, I bowed again and dipped into my pack for the bag of tablets. I popped a few into my mouth, threw on the pack, and shot a hand across Sabree’s chest. “From now on, I’m taking the lead. Shut up and follow.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me. Had I known you could clear a path so easily, I would have put you to work earlier. You seem to enjoy my suffering.” Sabree snickered as he slapped a centipede off my pack. “Should have left that bad boy there. Getting a bit cocky, your anti-ness.”

  I spun around; my gaze narrowed. “I’d never purposely leave a bug on you. Nope, I’m not that guy.” I trudged onward, making sure to stifle a chuckle. “Aye, too bad about centipede number two in your hair. So much frizz, you can’t feel the wee beastie.”

  While I hummed a Scottish tune, one that was sure to annoy Sabree, we hiked until we reached the edge of the forest. During the past hour, the only sound from him was a curse and a slap on his head to pull out the hitch-hiking centipede, the highlight of the afternoon hike. Now dusk loomed overhead, arriving as early as five, seven, or nine at night depending on the Malakhim clock. Neither of us had worn a watch or bothered to bring our cell phones.

  “We’ll camp here until sunrise. Wonder what time it rises?” I dropped the pack and emptied the ditty bag attached to the back. Sabree’s knitted brows caught my attention when I unraveled the bundle until a hammock spread out. “Better than a tent and it comes with its own bug netting. The edge of the woods might be a safer place for you to catch some beauty rest. I’ll stand guard. May as well since my anti-ness is in full throttle. At least one of us is up to speed.” I laughed at the clever yet unintentional pun.

  “Rub it in, rub it in.”

  3 3 3

  Physically drained and achy from head to foot, an overall malaise Sabree had not experienced since Brian’s blood first infected him, overwhelmed him. Sleep refused to come. At first, he thought Brian unpacked a hammock for two. But no way was he going to share the curling banana-shaped bed, too intimate a nest, scrunched inside like two peas in a pod.

  Sabree never let the slightest bit of guilt surface while Brian unrolled a blanket, sat on it, and leaned against the trunk next to one of the trees that supported the hammock. Comfortable in his private nest, free of bugs, he groaned. Perhaps if he counted sheep.

  A slight vibration made Sabree roll over to listen intently. Soft snores came from Brian. Just like the guard to slough off his duty. Then the crunch of dried leaves prickled his ears. Something or someone crept inside the forest near enough for his unenhanced ears to pick up. His hearts skipped a beat but made up for it by thumping against his chest double time. The rustle neared. Sabree leaned over to check on Brian who was fast asleep, the last snore louder than before.

  Curiosity won over Sabree’s prudence. He unzipped the bug net and flipped out of his nest without swinging. His shoes touched solid ground. Another snore confirmed Brian still slept soundly. Sabree eyed the forest with care. The siren’s call was meant for his ears only. A quick glance at Brian, his head slumped over, sent a shudder up and down Sabree’s spine. Should he wake him? A low guttural growl warned him against the idea. The siren called again. Sabree entered the woods alone.

  His own gasp startled him. Ahead, ten feet away, two glowing spheres bobbed in the darkness. Neon-green eyes. Sabree’s breath caught when a jaguar the size of a grizzly padded out of the thicket. How did this creature, mammal, breach the Malakhim shield never mind survive the death ray? He had no idea what to do. Run? Pet it? Call for help?

  A wolf flashed in his mind. A message. “Gray Wolf. You’ve sent my spirit animal.” But why? What message did he mean to relay? Sabree spoke up. “Why are you here? Does it have something to do with the White Ghost?”

  Its huge paw scratched the ground. Its neon eyes flashed white and then returned to bright emerald.

  “White!” Sabree cried out. “White Ghost. Should I seek the being?” An answer of yes or no didn’t matter, Sabree refused to leave the island, too close to give up now.

  A thunderous feline roar turned Sabree’s blood cold, his feet nailed to the ground. The cat pounced and slammed into him. Its gaping jaw aimed for his head. Sabree cringed into half his size and screamed. Instead of the jaguar devouring him in one mouthful, a surging current spread through his entire being. His eyes shot open in time to see the outline of the jaguar dissolve into a few sparks. They twinkled on and off like lightning bugs until they faded.

  “What the—?”

  Sabree jumped and shot out his arms to push Brian away. “You scared the crap out of me.” When Brian’s eyes glowed blood-orange, Sabree patted his shoulder. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get physical. Just a bit jittery.”

  “Like the Ever-Ready Bunny on steroids. What did you see?”

  “My spirit animal. I think it warned me to turn back.”

  Hands placed on his knees, Brian leaned forward as his gaze perused the forest. “Something tells me you’re not going to listen to its advice.” He spun around and grabbed Sabree by the shoulders. “Remember, I can use JLS to escape. Just say the word.”

  “Came this far. I’m vested.” Sabree nudged him to follow. “Let’s pack up and get going. What a waste. I never slept a wink. Apparently, you did.”

  “Aye, apparently.” Two flicks of the bungees released the hammock. Brian snapped the blanket and shoved both inside the ditty bag. “Not crazy about entering the forest at night. Best keep our eyes open.” After Brian adjusted a headlamp over his cap, he handed Sabree the spare. “These will brighten the path ahead.”

  “Too bad they won’t brighten my mood.” He prayed silently that Gray Wolf would give him another sign.

  25

  JLS OR ASAP

  A lthough by this hour the sun should’ve risen, the forest was dark. Soon the trees would thin out as we neared the central peak, now an inactive volcano. The last time it erupted was several centuries before the Screnian inhabited the isle. I researched the ancient scrolls about White Ghost after Sabree insisted we visit. We had ten more miles to hike. Still, I thought it odd that the only obstacle we ran into last night was a pack of hyena-like critters. Reptilian instead of mammalian, they scattered as soon as I hollered, “Scram!”

  Perhaps my anti-ness had forewarned me to avoid the scattered booby traps without my knowledge. Too easy, I kept telling myself. Either way, the real fun would begin once we entered the keep.

  “I agree,” Sabree said telepathically.

  “How can you read my mind? Isn’t that a Fallen gift?”

  “No, it’s our natural way of communicating,�
� Sabree said aloud.

  “Keep it in mind. It may come in handy.”

  Sabree puffed out his chest. “I believe the jaguar spirit entered my body last night. I feel its strength within me.”

  “Aye, you’re obsessed with jaguars. First cars, now spirit cats. You’ll need all the power you can get your hands on, so preserve some of it for the keep.” My eyes narrowed as I glared at Sabree for a sign that he was reading my mind again. Sure enough, the turquoise eyes revealed the truth. “Stay out of my head until I give you permission.”

  “Your approval means squat. I feel the power.”

  “Well, I feel the Force.” While chuckling at my private joke, I held out the GPS stone and waved it around like a lightsaber. My hand stopped when the stone glowed neon blue. “This way. Stay behind me. You may need your newfound power, and I may need the Force.” I palm-slapped my forehead. Enough time had been wasted. Where had my mind gone? Not like me to forget about speeding things up. “Hop on, Sabree. Onto my back. Time to get a move on. Beep, beep.”

  My passenger grabbed the pack, and before he could hoist a leg up, he flapped in the wind like a flag as he clutched onto me. I had taken off like a shot and probably left his stomach behind. A rush of trees and brush whizzed by us in a blur. My abrupt stop slammed his face into the pack. The pressure mashed between my shoulder blades. Along with my own, Sabree’s boots struck ground as he held on to catch his balance.

  “Okay, that should do it.” I pointed at the vista. “There’s the waterfall.” Roaring water and mist three-hundred feet high spilled into a turquoise pool. “Too bad we don’t have time for a swim.” My nose wrinkled. “We sure could use a bath.”