Heroine's Journey

by Sarah Kuhn

  “How can I help you today?” Bernard asked, dopey smile still on full display.

  “Oh, uh . . .”

  I need to talk to some dead and/or trapped people who seem to be communicating with me through a kind of fucked up interdimensional telepathy. Can you help me out with that?

  “We are conducting an important supernatural investigation, Mr. Bernard,” Aveda said.

  “It’s just Bernard,” he murmured.

  “And this hospital is a location of interest,” she continued. “We need to do a thorough search of the premises and yes, I can get a warrant in cooperation with the San Francisco police department, but as the result will be the same, it would be much more expedient for you to allow us to search now.”

  Hello? I said in my head, trying to reach out with my mind. Is anyone there? Mom? Edna? I felt ridiculous. But how else was I supposed to reach out to people who had very limited ways of communicating? Maybe I should try writing on the hospital bathroom wall.

  “Oh, dear, I’m afraid that just won’t be possible,” Bernard said, reaching down to rearrange some of his pens. “You see, we’re going through renovations. Currently on a skeleton crew. The majority of our patients had to be moved elsewhere for now. Most areas are restricted at the moment, even to me.”

  I frowned, looking around, taking in the beigeness and the blah-ness once again. That was what was off. There was no rush of nurses bustling around, no patients complaining, no usual chaos of the hospital. It was deadly silent. And except for us and Bernard, it seemed to be empty. Like it had been abandoned or something. I shivered.

  “That should make things even easier to search, then,” Aveda said, giving Bernard a smile that contained way too many teeth. “No people getting in the way.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Bernard, shaking his head. “You will simply have to return when renovations are complete.” He plucked a green pen with a gold-rimmed cap from one of his mugs and twirled it through his fingers.

  “And when will that be?” Evie said, laying a hand on Aveda’s arm.

  “A year and a half,” Bernard said cheerfully.

  “I don’t think so,” Aveda said.

  You may proceed with your search. No questions asked, I thought at Bernard. He looked confused for a moment, then shook his head, like he was trying to get rid of a fly that had landed on his nose.

  You may proceed with your search. No questions asked. I projected the thought harder and mixed in a feeling of overwhelming friendliness, openness. You may proceed with—

  “No.”

  I started. That had come from Bernard, who was now staring at me, all traces of his dopey grin wiped away.

  “Um, what?” Evie said, cocking her head at him.

  “That is very rude, young lady,” he said to me. “And I will thank you to knock it off.”

  And then I felt that push against my mind, that mental brick wall.

  “Oh, frak, no,” I hissed, slamming my palms down on the desk. I hadn’t been at all prepared when Kathy and Poet had tried to counter my mental whammy, but I wasn’t about to let nebbishy, milquetoast-y, pen-obsessed Bernard get the better of me.

  And what the hell was going on with Bernard, anyway? Was he working with Kathy?

  I pushed back with all my might, envisioning my mind as a massive wrecking ball crashing through the brick wall Bernard was trying to put up. He responded with force, slamming his brick wall into place, gripping his pen so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

  “You . . . are going to do . . . whatever I say . . .” I hissed at him.

  My palms were pressed into the desk so hard, I was sure they were going to leave a mark. Sweat beaded my brow, and I concentrated so hard, I could practically feel a vein popping on my forehead.

  “Bea,” Evie said uncertainly. “What’s happening?”

  “Is he trying to mind-control you?” Aveda barked. “Do you need us to subdue him?”

  “Nothing . . . you can do . . .” I managed, still sending my mental wrecking ball at Bernard with as much strength as I could muster.

  As with Kathy, it felt like our minds were locked in battle, pushing against each other. My vision tunneled and went hazy around the edges, and my head felt like I was slamming it into an actual brick wall over and over and over . . .

  CRASSSSSSHHHHHHH

  Behind me, I heard a window shatter. And another one. And another—

  “Bea.” Evie grabbed my arm, her voice spiked with fear. “Please . . .”

  I heard a loud SNAP and jumped, my concentration disrupted. My eyes went to the source: Bernard’s hand, which was clutching his now broken pen, blue ink staining his fingers.

  “Look what you made me do, Ms. Tanaka,” Bernard hissed. “I’ve had this trusty refillable rollerball since 1972. Nobody makes this exact model anymore. That was . . . ” He carefully set the pen down on his desk, then met my eyes again. “. . . very, very rude.”

  I’d never have guessed this meek little man was capable of such rage. But the way he was looking at me dripped with such full-body anger, such hate, it seemed to pulse through the air, pressing against my mind yet again. I threw up my own mental brick wall, trying to protect myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of his bushels of pens floating free from the mug it had been sitting in, levitating through the air. I did a double take.

  “Aveda,” I said, “are you—”

  “We’ll just have to take care of that rudeness, now, won’t we?” Bernard snarled.

  “Evie, Bea: get behind me!” Aveda bellowed.

  But before I could even begin to comprehend what was happening, Bernard’s mighty pen collection floated up from the desk—a mass of metal and plastic clacking together and forming into an angry cloud of office supplies. It looked like a nerdy swarm of bees.

  “What the hell!” Evie yelped. “Annie, can you grab on to them . . .”

  “On it!” Aveda barked.

  The pen swarm tightened in formation. I could see it resisting Aveda’s efforts, trying to get free. Then, one by one, the pens started to expand in the air.

  “Oh, shit,” Evie cried out. “It’s like the Wave Organ! They’re getting bigger . . .”

  “I don’t think I can hold them all,” Aveda growled.

  Evie held up her hands and sent her fireballs spinning outward. Aveda grabbed on to them with her telekinesis, and they formed a dancing flame trail in the air, attempting to surround the pen swarm. But there were too many pens, they were too unwieldy, and they were growing by the second.

  “Now, ladies,” Bernard said, hiding behind his pen swarm. “Really, there’s no need for this drama. If you all would just conduct yourselves with a bit more decorum . . .”

  The pen swarm danced around Evie’s fire, and clacked its way toward us. I never would have imagined a bunch of frakking pens to be so menacing, but . . .

  WHOOSH

  One of the pens had grown to be as tall as the ceiling. It broke from the pack and swung toward us.

  “Shit!” Aveda threw up her hands to fend it off. The force of her telekinesis managed to move it just far enough, and it swung through the empty air.

  I gathered up every emotion I felt—fear, anger, frustration—channeled them through my bloodstream, threw my head back, and screamed. The pen that had just swung at us shattered at our feet.

  “Nicely done, Bea,” Aveda said.

  “Thanks. One down, a billion to go.”

  CLACKCLACKCLACK

  The rest of the pen swarm advanced on us, and some of them were still growing. We were seriously about to be smashed into the ground by writing implements.

  “All right, keep it up,” Aveda said, her voice like steel. “Maybe together, we can—”

  “We can what?” Evie interrupted. “Annie, these things are going to kill us before we can contain them all—w
e’ve gotta get out of here.”

  “Retreat?” Aveda spat out. “Never. Besides, there could still be civilians in here—”

  WHOOOOOOOOSH

  One of the pens that had grown particularly giant swung at us again, nearly clipping Evie’s shoulder. She yelped and jumped out of the way.

  “Evie!” Aveda screamed. “Get back!”

  “There’s no one else here,” Bernard called out. His dopey grin had turned into something oily and dark. “Just us chickens. And you should thank your lucky stars I’m here for you. I’m going to teach you how to be proper young ladies with proper respect for—”

  “Oh, fuck that,” Aveda snapped.

  And then she stepped to the right and whirled into her repertoire of powerful fight moves, laying into the pen swarm with a dazzling array of spinning backhands and roundhouse kicks. Most of the pens stayed upright, and she had to dodge away from their massive, swinging forms, but a few snapped and went down.

  “Evie,” she barked, slamming her fist into yet another pen monster. “Most of these things are made of plastic—try melting them!”

  Evie sent her fireballs spinning through the air, targeting a purple pen that’d grown almost as tall as the ceiling. It tried to advance on her, but started melting on the spot.

  “That’s it!” yelled Aveda. “Pummel, pummel, pummel!”

  Evie kept the fireballs going, and the purple pen oozed into a sad pile of melted plastic. Brow furrowed in concentration, she turned to another pen and sent even more fireballs its way.

  I focused on another giant pen, a pen that swung at Aveda as she dodged out of the way to punch one of its inky friends. I sent my scream in its direction, putting all I could into it. It shattered into a zillion pieces. So I turned to another pen and screamed again. And again.

  One by one, the pen army was going down. I felt a surge of triumph as I watched Aveda snap another one in half. My throat was raw from all the screaming, but I kept it up, fueled by adrenaline and the sense that we were finally turning the fucking tide in this extremely weird battle.

  “Well,” Bernard said, making a tsk-ing sound, “I do not like this at all. You are most certainly the rudest young ladies to ever come in here. I think I’ll be taking my leave now.”

  BRRRRRRRRRRR

  Oh, shit, I knew that sound all too well by now. That overwhelming buzzing in my ears . . . I winced and snuck a glance at Evie and Aveda, but they didn’t seem to be affected. How were they not hearing this?!

  I tried to ignore the buzzing, tried to just keep screaming, but it was so loud, and that could only mean . . .

  I looked around frantically for Bernard. He was running down the hall, away from his desk. In the distance, I saw the world going all wavy and distorted, that veil descending over one particular spot. I glanced at Evie and Aveda again. The pen army was nearly decimated, and it looked like they could handle the few that were left.

  I took off after Bernard.

  “Bea!” Evie shrieked. “What are you doing?!”

  I ignored her and chased after him: down the corridor, past the windows we’d shattered with our brain battle. The roaring in my ears was almost unbearable now, but I pushed past it and kept him in sight. As he reached the end of the corridor, everything around us turned wavy and distorted, and just as he was about to run right into a wall, he leaped into the air and disappeared.

  I clenched my jaw in determination, poured the speed on, and reached the end of the hall.

  I’m coming, Mom, I thought as I leaped into the air.

  I was preparing myself to once again enter darkness, to be smacked to the ground, to get used to the heavy atmosphere, when all of a sudden, I felt my body being yanked backward and pulled through the air.

  “What!?” I shrieked.

  And then I landed on my ass on the cold linoleum hospital floor, and Evie and Aveda were looming over me, looking none too pleased.

  “Ow!” I said, giving Aveda an accusing look. “Why did you do that?! Why did you . . . telekinesis me?! I was so close, I was going to find her, I—”

  “Beatrice.” Aveda shut me up with her frostiest, most imperious Aveda Jupiter look. “What did we just say about teamwork?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I WAS BURROWING into another good sulk. I could practically feel the dark tendrils of anger swirling around me, wrapping me up in a nice little package of seething resentment.

  “You shouldn’t have stopped me,” I growled for the thousandth time, glaring at Aveda. “That was my chance to find Mom. And now it’s gone.”

  We were back at HQ, huddled around the kitchen table. Nate and Scott had brought cheeseburgers and fries for everyone, but no one was really eating. Even Evie, who placed French fries above everything except spam musubi in her messed up version of the food pyramid, couldn’t seem to get past picking at the food in front of her.

  “We told you it was too dangerous to jump into the Otherworld,” Aveda said, also for the thousandth time. She glowered at me.

  “No, you said it was bold,” I countered. “Risky. Like something you would do!”

  “I was commending your creative thinking, but I wouldn’t have actually done it,” she retorted. “Not after we discussed it as a team and agreed amongst ourselves that—”

  “So why, when I try to do it—” I pressed on stubbornly, ignoring her.

  “Because I asked you not to,” Evie cut in. She looked up from the French fry she was playing with. Her voice was low and measured, her face pale and drawn. But I knew from the flash in her eyes that she was furious. “I specifically asked you not to do that one thing. And then the minute you had the chance, you went and did it.” She shook her head and went back to playing with her sad, limp fry.

  “Darlings,” Lucy said gently. “Perhaps we should save the arguments and accusations for after dinner. A lot happened today, and it sounds like we need to debrief. Perhaps a ‘just the facts’ approach on the science of the situation might help us decompress a bit?”

  “I agree with Lucy,” Nate said quickly.

  “Thirded,” Scott chimed in.

  “I didn’t realize we were voting on this,” Aveda said.

  Evie shrugged and wrapped her sad fry corpse in a napkin. “Fine.”

  “Baby,” Nate murmured, putting his arm around her. “Please eat something.”

  “Don’t manage me,” she grumbled.

  “Rose and her team cordoned off and scanned the Market,” Lucy pressed on, determined. “Nothing untoward happened there today, but they did pick up active supernatural energy on their scans. So we thought it best to keep the whole thing shut down and monitor the area, as with the Organ. If Kathy shows her face—”

  “We won’t find her,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. “She’s escaped into the Otherworld. That’s why we haven’t been able to find Poet, either. It’s a super convenient hiding place, especially when your superheroing superiors won’t let you even try to—”

  “In any case,” Lucy interrupted. “If she returns for any of her illustrious cat-hair crafts, Rose will be waiting.”

  “I’ve been doing analysis of the Market scans all afternoon,” Nate said. “Once again, the origin of the energy was not the Pussy Queen portal. So I—”

  “You compared the scans from the Market with the ones we took at the Wave Organ,” I said. “And while their origins don’t match the Pussy Queen portal, they do match . . . each other.”

  Nate gave me a half-smile. “Yes.”

  “And if you took scans of the hospital,” I said, “those would match, too.”

  Nate nodded. “That is a very good hypothesis. It would appear that all three locations are similar types of entry points to the Otherworld—”

  “Places where there’s active supernatural energy present,” I said, “and where the walls between our worlds are e
specially thin. But they all seem to need one additional element to realize their full potential—a human prisoner. Delivered by the three people who seem to be able to leap into the Otherworld: Kathy, Poet, and now Bernard at the hospital. Pretzel Guy said Kathy banished him there, Carmen described being led by Poet, and I’m pretty sure Bernard somehow trapped Edna.”

  “Though to be clear, you never actually saw Kathy make the leap, right, Bug?” Scott said. “She just ran off?”

  “Yeah, that part is an assumption,” I said, my brow furrowing. “But I’d say it’s a reasonable one since no one’s seen her since, and your spells aren’t picking her up.”

  “And our leapers all seem to have some version of your emotional projection power, Bea,” Aveda said. Her voice was still frosty, but it seemed she’d decided to take Lucy’s cue and discuss topics that didn’t involve yelling at me. “With all of them, you felt like they were pushing back, right? Like you were doing some kind of mental battle.”

  “Yeah,” I said, frowning.

  “None of the superpowers we know of have duplicates, right?” Scott said. “The powers that made their way into human bodies?”

  “That’s correct,” Nate said. “At least from what’s been documented over the years, and what I remember from my time with Shasta. Humanoid demons have multiple powers, but when Shasta’s raiding party was killed coming through that first portal and their powers migrated to humans—”

  “The humans who received these powers only got one power each—one per customer,” I said, remembering. “And every power we know of is unique.”

  “So are the leapers demons in disguise?” Lucy asked.

  “Or some new kind of demon-human hybrid?” Aveda said.

  I shook my head. “We don’t have enough data—”