R.E.solve (Rain Experience Book 2)

by Thomas W. Everson

  Agatha is in the yard, hanging towels. She sees me coming and concern is on her face, but I fly past and into the kitchen. The door slams against the wall as I tear through the house. She calls after me to gain my attention, but I ignore her. Charging through I slam the swinging door also and leap up the stairs, three at a time. When I reach my room I grab my sword and strap the belt across my waist. Once it’s secured I waste no time, and I’m bounding back down the stairs. I hold onto the railing and leap half of them at a time. Pushing the swinging door back open I am nearly through and I hear Ami’s voice from behind me.

  “Rain! Where have you been?” It’s her worried tone.

  Reeling about on my heels, I place my right hand on the hilt so the sword doesn’t smack the door. Precious time is being wasted but I give her the run down.

  “I don’t have time to explain: Chase has taken Emma to Denis. I have to go,” I turn and try to leave.

  “Who’s Chase? What happened to you? You look awful!”

  “Chase is some henchman of Denis’s. I’m heading to where I might find him, and Emma.”

  Through the kitchen I head outside again, but Ami once more stops me. Grabbing my hand she pulls. I turn around a little annoyed. But she doesn’t see it because she leans in quickly and hugs me tightly, burying her face in my neck. Feeling the warmth of her breath calms me. She releases me, and smiles.

  “Come home safely.” She brushes her hand gently across my cheek where I feel a bruise forming. I wince but smile reassuringly.

  “I will.”

  “Rain, what’s going on?” Agatha asks with concern on her face while her eyes move down to meet my sword.

  “Emma’s in danger. I’ll explain later.” I turn and quickly head away from the house again, but in a significantly different direction than she was abducted from.

  The place to look would be the U.F.A. building. It’s the logical conclusion for where I might find him. He had to have gained control of it after his father fell ill.

  Heading to the right of the house from the back door I make my way across the dying grass. While I run, I keep my hand on the pommel of the sword to stop it from swaying.

  I look around at the tall buildings, attempting to discern direction. Unsure, I do my best and run onto a street which seems familiar. I’m following my gut. Every once in a while I stop and look for landmarks but with the city in its crumbled state, it’s hard to recognize anything.

  It was a tall building. I know the buildings had arches in their architecture. I had to travel through the residential district, but I can’t tell what’s what anymore.

  Continuing on at a brisk walk now instead of a full run, I look all around trying to catch glimpses of the enormous U.F.A. building. Finally, after losing track of time and direction, I’m positive I see it in the distance towering above many of the other buildings. It becomes more apparent when the familiar stairs leading up come into view. The building is a husk of what it once was, its glory days clearly in the past. Planks of wood cover the windows at ground level; the glass of the revolving door is busted out; the lights are off inside. It appears abandoned now, and has been for a long time.

  I guess Denis wouldn’t be here in its current state. But I might be able to find some information about the people who were employed here. Maybe get them to help me to find his whereabouts.

  I duck through the broken glass openings in the revolving door, making sure not to catch my arms on any of the jagged pieces remaining in the metal frames. Minimal light enters the building from the door, so I am forced to let my eyes adjust before continuing. I’m relieved when it happens quickly, allowing me to move farther in. Past the ticket seller’s booths, I head for the double doors into the bottom floor fighting arena. They’re propped open a crack. A light flickers inside. When I look, peeking through the crack, it appears to simply be a few resident homeless men and women strewn about the stands and fighting ring.

  Pulling the doors open I move through the stands and off to the right where the elevator room rests. The windows there are also broken out, both in the door and the main viewing area. I enter familiar settings.

  Many pictures still hang on the wall, though they are dusty and would need a good cleaning just to know what their subjects are. Like the pictures, most things in the room are dusty, and have been undisturbed for some time now. Still, I move to the desk, open drawers, and thumb through paperwork for any clues to Denis’s location.

  In one drawer there are several small books bound with spiraling wire and strewn about papers. There are no maps of the city as I had once seen, and had hoped I would find this time. Thumbing through one of the books, there are names listed, followed by what I assume is information about the person. Numbers and named streets lead me to believe they are locations within Chas. The book is incomplete. There are shreds of paper left behind from pages having been torn out and they aren’t in the desk. I take what I can hold in one hand.

  They’re old, but maybe I’ll get lucky with a name. If nothing comes of these I may have to return and make my way up to Mister Lindali’s office at the top of the building. With the building in this much disarray though, would the elevators work? Is there electricity here?

  Taking it and several of the other small wire bound books, I stuff them in my pants pockets and find my way back out of the building, into the open, yet musty air. Having spent a lot of energy and working on a nearly empty stomach I can’t help but hope I’m able to find an open market on my return. With several more hours until dusk, it’s not likely, but I try to be optimistic. I distract myself by thumbing through the pages of another address book. Despite my worry for Emma, my pace lessens while I study street names.

  I work my way through the city, and the papers. I come across a name I recognize. Anthony Grada. Next to his name is his address, but because I’m unfamiliar with navigating the city by street name or location, I begin looking about for anyone I might be able to ask. Day walkers elude me, despite my fervent searching. I arc through the large streets separating the skyscraping buildings and anticipate I’ll be coming upon the commercial district soon.

  Maybe with the assistance of someone from the market I’ll be able to find him, or at least where he lives. If I can beat an answer out of anyone, Anthony would be it. I’m sure he would have aligned himself with Denis again.

  I reach the commercial district, but it’s still quiet. I’m forced to wander a while longer before people begin appearing about the streets. Late afternoon has arrived, and turning onto another street I notice market stalls have started opening for business. Unlike before when there were multiple places to shop and eat on one block, now there is only a handful. Like the small number of people, they’re random and intermittently placed. But I’ve not walked the distance, on this mission, to be deterred by a few more feet.

  While finding my way to the nearest open shop, I see different classes of people are intermixing. Destitute people mingle with some who look like they’re of the upper class.

  Is it by choice? Or because it’s one of the last market areas left?

  All of them shy away, trying to avoid contact with me.

  Is it my eyes, or the sword?

  Instead of asking someone who can run from me, I aim for a food merchant. He is serving a few customers, handing them bowls of stringy looking pasta. The smell permeates my nostrils and its buttery, peppery smell causes my mouth to water. My stomach grumbles, and I push the hunger down as I know I have no money to pay with.

  I approach and hold out the little book, my finger near Anthony’s name and supposed location, placing it in front of the man handing out bowls. He waves me off and I shake it at him.

  “Do you know how I can get here?” I ask.

  “Shoo, get out of here. If you aren’t going to buy anything I have nothing for you,” he scoffs while returning to a large stove behind him.

  Rather than push it with that shop I move farther down the street and try again, but the next merchant refuses to a
cknowledge my presence also.

  If they’re all like this, I’m going to find myself out of luck. Is it because of my eyes, or perhaps is Denis the cause of the blockade? Maybe information has a price now too.

  Wandering for some time longer I have no luck finding anyone to help me locate Anthony. It’s become dark and some streetlights have come on. I reach an area which is familiar. It’s where Emma’s shop is located.

  I nearly pass it by, but as light reflects off of one of the windows I stop because it almost looks like there’s movement. Unsure if my mind is playing tricks on me, I wait. I’m positive a light flickers from the back of her shop. Cautiously I investigate, moving in closer to peek in the window. Nearing the entrance, I find the door propped open a crack by a small wedge of wood.

  With Emma having been taken, it’s likely a thief trying to ransack her shop. Or maybe one of Denis’s underlings.

  I draw my sword. Pulling on the door with my free hand I enter into the shop quietly so I don’t alert whomever might be here. The skin on my knuckles taut, my grip is tight on the soft leather of the hilt. I draw it in close, ready to spear someone in this close environment. My eyes dart back and forth. There’s no one in plain sight; however with an abundance of counters and shelves in the way, and food stacked up on them, I’m leery someone might be hiding.

  Lifting my arm and moving around the first shelf, I ready my blade, but there is no one there. One by one I check behind the shelves and counters, clearing the room. It’s empty. Dropping my guard a little I let the point of my sword face the floor.

  There is a trashcan filled with nothing but a bouquet of flowers. I kneel down to look closer, and attached is a card which reads ‘Love, Denis’.

  A good place for them.

  A light clattering noise startles me and I track it to the door back behind the farthest counter. Moving swiftly past the counter, I see the light which brought me in here, gleaming from the crack underneath the door. Moving to the side, I crouch and bring my sword up. I wait patiently for my moment to pounce.

  The door opens and light pours into the front of the shop. A very tall and muscular man steps through, and I give him no opportunity to see me and react. Jumping up and shoving him into the wall, my sword meets his neck. His hands fly up in surrender and produce falls to the ground at our feet.

  Lit only by the light coming through the back area I see a scared look on a familiar face. Anthony Grada’s other half. Driesen stands before me mostly the same as I had last seen him, though now a long scar runs from his eyebrow down his cheek and his hair has begun to gray on the sides.

  “You!” we both exclaim at the same time.

  “That’s right, me!” I respond aggressively and push the blade just a little bit more into his skin, drawing a bead of blood. “Where is she?”

  “Wait!” he exclaims. “What are yous talkin’ about?”

  “Where. Is. Emma?!” I grind my teeth.

  “I don’t know!”

  “Don’t lie to me!”

  “I haven’t seen her since she said she was going to be gone for a little bit.” He labors to speak calmly with my sword pressed to his flesh. “I fell on hard times, she took pity on me. I came’ta see if she was back, but saw she wasn’t open.”

  “So you broke in to steal from her?”

  “Are yous kidding? It’s not like that,” he reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulls out a key, dangling it a moment before replacing it. “She lets me have some of her old produce that hasn’t sold.”

  “So you wouldn’t happen to know anything about Emma being kidnapped by Chase and taken to Denis, would you?”

  “Chase did what?!” A genuine look of shock and irritation crosses his face.

  “He snatched her while I was dealing with Denis’s gang.”

  “I ain’t had contact with Denis in a long whiles, and I sure don’t trust Emma in his custody.”

  Hesitant, I keep him in check while I try to determine if he’s telling the truth. Though we’ve had issues before, my gut is easing and my grip on the sword loosens. Lowering the sword cautiously, I step back away from Driesen and wipe it off on my pants before sheathing it. He looks relieved to not be skewered. I cross my arms and glare at him, ready to pin him again if I need to.

  “I need to know where Denis might be,” I state plainly. “He needs to be stopped.”

  “There’s a rumor floating around that he’s on the outskirts somewheres. I’ll investigate and we can get him together. I gots a score to settle, and if Emma’s in danger it gives me incentive.”

  “That’ll do nicely, but we better hustle. We’re on a time crunch here since Denis seems insistent on marrying her against her will.” I point my finger at him aggressively.

  “It’s gonna take me a bit and I work better alone. Where can I find yous?”

  “You remember the park.”

  “Center of the city? Yeah.” He quirks an eyebrow.

  “The house has returned. You can find me there.”

  “Do I wants ta know how you get it in and out of there?” Driesen looks at me confused.

  “No. Just come find me when you have the info, and be as quick as you can.”

  “Sure thing boss.” He’s agitated, but it’s not directed at me. He nods curtly.

  Before I can make my way out my stomach grumbles and, positive Emma wouldn’t mind, I grab an orange. It takes me only moments to peel and devour it. I toss the peel in the garbage can. Driesen looks at me as if I had just committed a heinous crime and I’m becoming more comfortable he’s telling the truth.

  Finished with my small snack, I turn my back to him, leaving the store. My shoulders are tense as I expect Driesen to take advantage of my generous opening. To my surprise, as I reach the door and look over my shoulder he’s in the same place. He wipes his neck and watches me.

  The street is fairly empty except for a few people in either direction. From Emma’s shop it’s not hard to make my way back to the park. I have a few moments to think.

  He acted convincingly, and he didn’t attack. Was it real? I suppose he’d have probably put up more of a fight if he was still working for Denis, but I did have a sword to his throat.

  I just wish I didn’t have to leave Emma in the hands of some power-tripped narcissist while I wait for a gamble to pay off. I don’t have much of a choice though. If Driesen doesn’t come by tomorrow I might just go out and see if I can pressure more people into telling me anything useful.

  Would it be ethical to use my abilities to scare people into talking if it’s for a greater good? Would the ends justify the means if harm came to someone with information that would lead me to Denis?

  The lights of the house guide like a beacon as I reach the border around the park. It’s only a few minutes longer before I see the difference in grass at our boundary. Agatha’s in the yard, illuminated by the light from the kitchen window and when I approach she puts out her hand and I stop.

  “Hey, where’ve you been all day?” It’s Evalyn, and by her tone she doesn’t seem to be in a bad mood.

  “Long story. Trying to track down Emma,” I sit down on the steps to the back door.

  “What happened? You lose her in the city?” She sits down next to me and jabs me with her elbow playfully.

  “If only it was that simple.” I sigh heavily. “I worry for her safety. For everyone’s. I don’t feel like I’m able to keep everyone safe.”

  “You know if I was younger, and not dead, I wouldn’t mind if you kept me safe…” she trails off and I catch her joke.

  I shake my head and crack a smile for the first time in hours. She cackles and pushes me. Losing my balance, I hit the grass and it actually feels all right. It’s springy, soft and cool to the touch.

  “Are you all right?” She asks.

  Just lying there on my side I can feel the heat being absorbed from my body, the ground drinking it in thirstily. It’s comfortable and I don’t want to move. Evalyn prods me with her foot and I’m
forced to look at her.

  “I’m just worn out. The effects of the despair, my own helplessness to do anything while Emma is in danger, and a lack of food is taking its toll on me. I’m stuck waiting for any information about where Emma might have been taken.”

  “Looking for a lost little girl as if she were your wife,” Evalyn smirks.

  I can only glance up at her and give her a dirty look before laying my head back down in the grass. She taps my hip with her foot, to be annoying and to gain my attention. I swat at her foot softly.

  “Little sister.” I correct her. “And it appears she sees it that way too.”

  “So what about Ami and Eve then? Have you decided?”

  I close my eyes. “Unlike when you put that insane idea into Tamiell’s head, I’m not sure how I got tangled in between.”

  “It’s your essence. Something about you draws people. You’re a leader. Maybe it’s the power you wield, or something else, but it’s strong.”

  “I guess that makes sense regarding who I was. Some things can’t be lost to amnesia it seems.”

  “Who you were? Did you remember something?”

  “Remember? No. I found out from the princess I used to be king of Asta in the future from her perspective. And Drake and I were cordial once. He must have been in my trusted circle to be that way. My leadership might be why he was with me.”

  “A king? That does shed a little light. We could do some historical research, see if there is anything out there about a king gone missing.”

  “Looking in the history books? Are you sure it’s a good idea? I wouldn’t mind knowing, but what if we inadvertently come across information about ourselves? Events that haven’t happened for us yet.”

  “We could take a calculated risk. We know what era you’re from and could search for that timeframe only,” she suggests.

  “All right. But only after I’ve made sure Emma is safe.”

  I muster the energy to push myself up off the ground and eventually stand. I make sure I have all of the books and paper before moving up the stairs to the kitchen. The door to the living room swings back and forth.