The Felix Chronicles: Tides of Winter

by R. T. Lowe

  Felix laughed, and conscious of the noise he was making, let himself trail off quietly. The houses were big stone manors, their ivy crawling facades bathed in white from the security lights ringing the exteriors. Oakmont reminded Felix of PC’s campus in a lot of ways. The cobblestone sidewalks, the great old mansions steeped in ivy, the dormers and weather vanes finished in copper, and the towering trees, leafless and silent in the calmness of a windless night, their long branches swooping elegantly across the road. The bright lights from the lampposts made Felix feel exposed, knowing they were visible to anyone looking out from their homes, and he wondered if something else might be watching them, something not human.

  They came to the first side street, Laurelhurst, and kept walking. From what Felix could tell, the houses on Laurelhurst seemed even larger, and the security lights blazed just as bright as the others. The residents were clearly attempting to chase the shadows away, afraid of what might be lurking within them.

  “Laurelhurst is the one where that woman lives.” Allison zipped her jacket over her chin with fingers turning pink from the cold.

  Felix nodded and saw the next street sign: Moreland. The Numbered One they were searching for hadn’t killed anyone—yet—though it had scampered off with a German Shepherd writhing in its jaws. The resident living on Laurelhurst who had witnessed the incident described the creature as, “hideous, a mouth that could swallow a pumpkin, and wearing swim trunks and a ski jacket.” The community was incensed, and Felix thought it odd how it seemed people accepted the news of human death—even mass death—in relative stride, yet the death of an animal provoked an avalanche of outrage.

  “If you see a cop car hold my hand,” Allison told him suddenly. “We’ll tell them we’re young lovers out stargazing.” She giggled, smiling from her cheeks, eyes glimmering.

  It was nice to hear Allison giggling. She’d been so tense of late he couldn’t readily recall the last time she’d laughed the way she used to. He glanced up at the blanketing overcast skies. “Uh-huh, just look at all those twinkling stars.” He smiled and it quickly fell from his face as a thought occurred to him. “That’s actually a good idea. Give me your hand. Numbered Ones are intelligent, right? We want it to think we’re just out for a stroll. We should appear, you know, weak or whatever.” He held out his hand and Allison took hers from her jacket pocket, twining her fingers through his.

  “God!” Allison exclaimed. “Your hand’s like a fricken’ furnace.”

  “Is it?” Felix said, surprised. They crossed Moreland, continuing on.

  “You don’t notice?”

  “Not really,” Felix said. “I guess I don’t think about it much, but when I’m outside like this it feels pretty good.”

  “Must be nice,” Allison complained. Her breath puffed out white and lingered, no wind to speak of, or rain, for now anyway. “I wonder if Lofton’s thinking long-term or short-term with his monsters?”

  “Using them, you mean?” Felix asked. The home to their right was gated and a stone wall ran the length of the property. The mansion was set back from the street at least a hundred yards and was only visible because of the security lights flooding the front of the house. The yard, however, was hidden in shadow beyond the reach of the lights, ample darkness, Felix knew, for a Numbered One to conceal itself.

  “Yeah. The Numbered Ones are keeping everyone scared and reminding them of the terrible things the Old Government did, but the occasional video of the military gunning down a few creatures isn’t going to placate the public forever. Eventually, people will be pissed if the New Government doesn’t get rid of all of them. People can’t live like this.” She waved a hand at the deserted neighborhood.

  Felix nodded. “Yeah, I guess they can only blame the Old Government for so long. I’m just not sure when that is.”

  Headlights suddenly appeared ahead, growing larger, racing past them and braking hard, turning into a driveway two houses to their backs. They watched as the garage door opened and rectangular shafts of light stretched across the driveway. A man wearing a suit and tie jumped out of the Audi and ran toward the street, the sound of keys rattling in his pocket, his breath steaming in great vaporous clouds. When he reached the end, he looked both ways, eyes wide and alert. When he saw Felix and Allison he gasped and threw open the cover to the mailbox, thrusting his hand inside, gripping a handful of mail and leaving the flap open as he turned and bolted for the house. Halfway to the sanctuary of his garage, a pair of letter-sized envelopes slipped from his hand and fluttered to the ground. He spun around and hesitated, stumbling back on slippery-soled dress shoes, and then spun back, leaving them where they lay as he sprinted madly into the garage. The motor began to whine and the garage door lowered slowly, the pool of light shrinking until the driveway was again in darkness.

  “Oh my God,” Allison whispered, smiling at Felix. “How freaked out was that guy?”

  “Pretty freaked out.” They turned back and started up again in the same direction. “You cold?”

  “Everything but my hand.” She laughed. “It’s fine, really, if we keep moving. I can keep this up all night. Don’t worry about me.”

  “This is pointless, you know?” Felix sighed. “If we kill one monster, it’s not going to make a difference. There could be thousands, and for all we know, Lofton could snap his fingers and replace the ones we kill.”

  “This isn’t about killing it. I told you, I have some questions.”

  Felix watched her. “I think I know what you’re up to.”

  “Is that right?” A mischievous smile played on her lips.

  He nodded confidently. “You want to know if you can look it in the eyes without being mesmerized or whatever it is they did to Bill, right?”

  Allison tilted her head appreciatively. “They can’t do it to you, so maybe they can’t do it to any Sourcerors. Maybe that’s how Lofton makes them. And who knows—maybe we can get it to tell us something else.” She pointed at the street coming up—Irving Park—and said, “Let’s take this one.”

  They turned down the street and walked in silence for a time, staring around. The mansions were spaced even farther apart and back from the street, the security lights not detectable, the gated entrances and high stone walls the only indication of their presence. Felix imagined that the homes behind those walls had to be enormous, and wondered who lived in them. Tech moguls? Nike execs? Trail Blazers?

  “Lights are out down there,” Allison pointed out, lowering her voice.

  Felix saw it too, three or four streetlamps had gone dead. Failing to replace a burned out bulb didn’t seem like something the residents of this neighborhood would tolerate, even in normal times. He stopped and Allison held up, their hands linked. “Hear that?” He cocked an ear, listening. “It sounded like, I don’t know, like a thump or something, you know, feet hitting the ground.”

  Allison’s eyes narrowed. She shook her head. “Keep walking?”

  Felix grunted and lifted his chin toward the island of darkness that had crept over the street. He glanced over his shoulder, searching behind them. Nothing.

  “I don’t need to bring up Sophia again, do I?” Allison said, though from her tone, Felix thought she was only teasing. “If you think we’re in imminent danger, what are you going to do?” She phrased the question like she was administering a quiz.

  “Turn my back, close my eyes and count to ten.”

  Allison nudged him with her shoulder. “I have a better idea. Just grab it”—she held out her hand and made a fist—“then break its neck or fry it or break its neck and fry it. Doesn’t matter to me, just kill it and be done with it.”

  “I thought we were going to interrogate it?”

  “We are. The neck breaking and frying shouldn’t happen until we get our answers. Just don’t be dumb.”

  “Dumb?” Felix pretended to sound hurt. “You know some guys might be offended by that. You’re an Empath—can’t you feel how wounded I am?”

  Allison smiled at hi
m. “I’m feeling a little better now that I know you’re actually practicing. But”—she set her jaw and her eyes burned with a sudden intensity—“if you screw around and let one of these things tear open your throat again, I swear to God I’ll haunt you in your sleep!”

  That sobered his mood. His first encounter with a Numbered One had nearly been his last. Felix had grossly underestimated their strength and ferocity and had nearly bled to death when one of the creatures had savaged his throat, breaking a tooth off in his jugular. If not for his healing abilities, he would have perished in Ashfield Forest, and perhaps ended up in the belly of one of Lofton’s monsters. He’d been careless—but that was then. Nothing bad was going to happen to him this time and he swore to himself Lofton’s creatures would never again hurt Allison. He was different now, and he planned to show Allison just how different he was.

  She squeezed his hand. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” Her voice was gentler now. “I know you don’t like… killing. In the abstract, I really like that quality about you.” She grinned at him. “You know, you could put that up on your profile on one of those dating sites. ‘My name’s Felix August and I really don’t like killing people if I can help it.’”

  “You’re a serious dork sometimes,” Felix told her.

  “Fair point,” Allison said, “but in all seriousness, you can’t let that fine quality of yours become such a huge vulnerability. It already has, and I just hope that’s a thing of the past. One of these times, someone—or something—more powerful than a dumbass Protector with a syringe and a knife might…” She let the conclusion hang meaningfully in the wintry air.

  “Now you’re being an annoying dork.” Felix scowled at her. “That Sophia thing was—” He stopped and let go of her hand, standing completely still, listening for it. He’d heard it again, the sound of feet moving over the ground. Something was following them. Allison stopped beside him, questioning him with her eyes. He turned his head, slowly, the hairs on his arms standing on end.

  A streak of orange shot toward them, a shock of black on top, its features an indiscernible blur.

  Stop! Felix thought and his right index finger twitched up.

  The orange streak froze in place, head down, one arm raised as if it was flexing its bicep, both feet—clad in blue sneakers with rainbow colored laces—off the ground, a rushing predator stuck on pause mere seconds from bringing down its prey.

  Felix and Allison turned to face it, stepping back for a better view. He held it in place, his mind locked onto the creature. Its hair was dark and wiry, its eyes gray and somehow sensual, its jaw wide and powerful. Is mouth was only partly open, yet still gaping, the tips of its serrated teeth glinting silvery in the light of the nearest lamppost. Its eyes, filled with confusion, shifted wildly in their sockets. It stared at its outstretched hands and then at Felix and Allison, as if it thought it could somehow will itself to reach them. Felix could feel it struggling to throw off its invisible bonds, but its efforts were futile and a smile crossed his face, pleased that he’d captured the creature so easily. How could he have let one of these things nearly kill him?

  “Hi there,” Felix said amiably. “I’m Felix. This is Allison.” He nodded at her and she stepped forward, studying it from just a few feet away. Felix smelled the horrible stench from its breath and wondered what its last meal might have been. “You probably thought you were going to eat us, but we have a change of plans. I’m going to let you talk now, but be careful what you say, and don’t say anything rude.” Felix relaxed his grip on its mouth and throat. Its lips began to quiver, then its tongue flicked out and it bit down, cutting into it, and the blood, black and syrupy, dribbled down its chin.

  “I want you to look at Allison,” Felix instructed the creature. “And do that thing with your eyes where you control people, okay?”

  The Numbered One snarled and a terrible odor washed over them, a cloud of decomposing flesh. “I don’t take orders from you.” Its voice was clear and defiant, somewhere between an alto and a tenor.

  Is that right? Felix thought. We’ll see about that. He stretched out his arm and created fire in the palm of his hand. The flames were a deep red, almost violet, and he played with them, making them snap and dance on the air.

  “Let me go, child!” the creature hissed fearlessly, not reacting to the fire.

  “Not today,” Felix said coolly. “Look, I know you feel pain ‘cause I’ve killed some of your friends, so I think we should make a deal. You do what I say and I’ll think about not burning you alive.” He nodded at his hand, making the fire grow, stretching it upward until it kissed the gently arched neck of the lamppost. “What do you say?”

  Its lips lifted in a snarl. “I answer only to the Creator.”

  “Who’s that?” Allison moved past Felix, stationing herself directly in front of it, inches removed from its mouth. “Lofton?”

  It didn’t answer.

  Allison gripped the collar of its puffy ski jacket, locking eyes with it. “Are you alone? Are there other Numbered Ones here?”

  “There are six more in these feeding grounds,” it said quickly. “They will be here shortly and you will be dead. They will gorge on your entrails and drink the marrow from your bones.”

  “Sounds lovely.” Allison kept her eyes focused on the monster’s. “You’re lying. I know you’re lying.” She glanced over her shoulder at Felix. “It’s alone.”

  “Anything?” Felix asked, watching her closely, thinking she looked the same, not dazed or glassy-eyed. “When you look at it?”

  “Nothing. I’m totally fine.” Allison turned back to it. “What’s your number? You all have a number, right? What’s yours?”

  When it didn’t answer, Felix squeezed the creature until its face began to turn blue.

  “Eighty-seven,” it finally growled, baring its teeth.

  Felix loosened his grip, showing the creature there were rewards if it answered their questions. “How many of you are there?”

  It gazed unflinchingly at Felix and the hatred in its slate colored eyes gave him pause, despite the knowledge that he could incinerate it with a thought.

  “How many?” Felix repeated coldly. “I can make this really painful.”

  “Only the Creator knows.” It licked at the blood trickling down its chin.

  “Why is there a number system?” Allison asked. “What does it mean?”

  The creature’s breaths were coming faster now, heavier, as if it was beginning to panic. “Number Eighty-Eight defers to me. I defer to Eighty-Six.”

  “So it’s a hierarchy,” Allison said to no one in particular. “Interesting. What’s the Creator planning? Why are you here?”

  “I don’t know,” it said slowly, spitting out the words. Droplets of black blood spattered Allison’s jacket, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “It’s telling the truth,” she said to Felix. “Seems like it’s just a foot soldier taking orders.”

  “And eating dogs,” Felix added with disgust. A car’s engine revved and tires screeched on pavement, piercing a hole in the night. It sounded close—one of the streets in Oakmont. “Better hurry up,” he suggested to Allison.

  “It’s been a pleasure,” Allison said to the creature. “If we come across any of your friends, we’ll let them know you died bravely and all that. Felix”—she glanced over her shoulder—“kill it!”

  His eyes moved to its throat and he visualized its neck snapping like a dry branch. A moment later, he snapped its neck, like a dry branch, but it was much louder than he’d expected. An awful hissing gurgling sound escaped from its blackened lips, its eyes rolled back and its head drooped forward, chin resting sideways on its chest. Then it went still. Dead. Felix had killed it.

  “Damn,” he whispered, still holding the creature in place. “That was a crazy noise. Did you hear—?”

  “Deathheads!” the creature roared, its eyes snapping open. “The Deathheads are coming!”

  Felix lurched backwa
rd, the fire in his hand, and his grip on the creature, vanishing.

  The Numbered One lunged for Allison and she stumbled back, tripping over the curb and onto the cobblestoned sidewalk with the creature on top of her.

  “Deathheads!” the creature screamed and its cavernous mouth snapped down at Allison’s face.

  She stopped it cold, jamming a hand against its throat, keeping it at arm’s length. She turned her eyes to Felix. “Don’t kill it! Let it talk! Let it talk!”

  Felix barely heard her words, his thoughts already centered on the creature’s neck.

  “Don’t do it!” Allison shrieked. “Don’t do—”

  Felix ripped its head raggedly from its shoulders and launched it into the night sky where it soared off into the distance, lost to sight.

  “Ughhh!” Allison screamed, as the blood, black as death, poured from the stump like water from a hydrant, coating her face. She tossed the creature aside and rolled to her knees, sitting up and yelling in disgust, wiping frantically at herself.

  Felix stripped out of his jacket and used it to wipe at the blood, but it was like using a tissue to clean sludge from a windshield.

  “Bluck!” Allison spat, swiping at her face, squeezing her eyes shut.

  “I think there’s water in the car,” Felix offered weakly, dabbing pathetically at her dripping hair.

  “I had it!” Allison shouted, using her knuckles to clear her eyes. “It was going to talk! I told you not to kill it!”

  “It was trying to kill you!” Felix shouted back, mystified that Allison had apparently missed that minor point. “What did you want me to do?”

  Allison put her hands to her face and began to wail, falling forward, elbows resting on knees, shaking.

  Felix knelt beside her, holding her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… are you okay?”

  She let her hands drop and raised her chin, turning to him, and Felix realized she wasn’t sobbing—she was laughing. “That was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen!” she said through peals of hysterical laughter. “And you think we have water in the car!” She gave him a shove and stood, wiping her hands on the front of her jeans. “You think a little Poland Spring’s gonna get this off. Oh my God! This is so gross!” She ripped off her jacket and slipped her hands under her shirt, stretching it up to wipe at the steaming blood. “It’s in my ears! It’s in my fricken’ ears!”