All Wounds

by Dina James

  “Okay, so you known what a force field is,” he said with a grin.

  “Yeah,” she said again. “Something that holds whatever in or keeps something out, like a jail cell.”

  “That’s kind of like the boundary,” Billy said. He gave the front tire of his car a soft kick and nodded. “It’s where the force field is, and just like in Star Trek, if you’ve got the key or know the way, you can go in and out of it. Some things it keeps out, other things it keeps in, and still other things can cross it as they want. Make sense?”

  “A little,” she said, her brow furrowing. “When...I mean...Nana asked Syd to ‘see to the boundary’. What did she mean?”

  “Few years back Martha closed off the portal to her enclave and brought the boundary around her place down,” Billy answered. “It basically was like putting up a ‘no vacancy’ sign at a hotel. No room at the inn, so to speak. No welcome there, no help available, closed to business, however you want to phrase it. For things needing to get back across the boundary, or back into one of the Otherworlds, it was a real pain in the—” Billy reached under the wheel well and tried to push out a dent above it. He cursed and growled and it finally gave under his insistence. He leaned back with a grin.

  Rebecca gaped. Wow. He had to be seriously strong to bend molded steel back into shape with his bare hands.

  “Need tools to smooth that,” he muttered. His satisfied smile disappeared and he straightened a little as he noticed her still standing in front of him. He cleared his throat and went on. “So that meant they had to find another place, and believe me, there aren’t many. When Martha told Syd to

  ‘see to the boundary’, she was telling him to put her shingle back out—raise the force field—and make the place safe again for those needing a haven.

  Kind of like a stop on a train line that had been closed, and now the train goes there again. It will be slow at first for things to get back to normal, because everyone knows the train doesn’t run to that stop anymore and they’ve had to find other ways and means to get around and get help, but eventually word will spread that the Eastern Enclave is back in business, and things will go back to normal.”

  “‘Normal’?” Rebecca echoed. “Normal for who?”

  “For us,” Billy said as he stood up and went to the open driver’s side door. He shoved it closed with his foot. The handle fell off and clattered to the cement of the driveway. He cursed again.

  “‘Us’?” she repeated, still confused.

  “Yeah, us,” Billy replied with a scowl. “But don’t you worry none. Got you across the boundary. Nothin’ gonna touch you here. Well, nothin’ smart anyway. It would have to really be worth something’s while to take on the vamps, werewolves, ghouls, ghosts, shades, goblins, zombies—”

  “Zombies?!” Rebecca interrupted, her eyes wide. “There are zombies running around?!”

  “Well, they don’t really run too good, and only sometimes stumble into the Regular realm, but yeah, there are ‘zombies running around’,” Billy said.

  “You’re safe now, so why don’t you run inside and assure Syd I didn’t have you for a snack on the way home? He knows I ain’t much for the ‘damsel in distress’ thing.”

  He bent down to pick up the fallen door handle, scowling at it in disgust as he tried to fit it back where it belonged.

  Rebecca thanked Billy again—she felt totally weird thanking a werewolf who almost killed her as he drove like a psycho for saving her life—and ran to the house, surprised to find the front door locked.

  Why would Nana lock the door?

  Rebecca fumbled for her key, turned the lock, and pushed the door open wide.

  “Nana, I’m home!”

  A loud, insistent beep coming from the kitchen answered. A thin white haze dimmed the light in the foyer, making Rebecca’s stomach clench tight.

  The all-too-familiar feeling of dread rushed through her, making her skin tingle. She glanced into the living room to see her grandmother’s chair empty.

  “Nana?”

  chApter seven

  The incessant high-pitched wail from the kitchen penetrated her shock.

  The smoke detector! Rebecca ran into the kitchen, glad that it was so close to the foyer.

  Smoke billowed from around the oven door in clouds. A pot on the stovetop was also smoking, whatever had been in it reduced to brown scorching gloop at the bottom.

  Rebecca tore the pot from the stove and dumped it in the sink before turning the faucet’s cold water on full-blast then dashed back to the stove.

  She turned off both the burner and the oven then grabbed a dishtowel from a drawer. She opened the oven door, slow and careful.

  She coughed and squinted against the heat as a dark cloud of soot assaulted her. The smoke detector continued to screech, earsplitting and ceaseless. Rebecca flapped the dishcloth at the cloud to disperse it and see what was burning. There was a blackened casserole dish on the middle oven rack, its contents burned to a cinder though continuing to cook. Whatever liquid it had contained had spilled over onto the heating element below it, causing the smoke that now filled the kitchen.

  Flames leapt to life along the element as fresh air entered the oven, reaching for the pan above. Rebecca shrieked and dropped the dishcloth as she leapt back. Hesitating only a moment, she sprinted to the pantry and grabbed the fire extinguisher she had learned to keep at the ready there. She yanked the pin and depressed the lever as she got back to the oven, aiming the flame-suppressing spray at the base of the blaze.

  The small fire was out in moments. Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief as she looked around the kitchen. Nothing seemed to be seriously damaged by the fire, kept mercifully contained by the oven, though smoke did enough by itself.

  The burner on the top of the range continued to smoke angrily as if in protest. Rebecca scowled and squirted it with a short blast from the fire extinguisher in annoyance. The burner sputtered and hissed a reply, then quieted.

  Rebecca looked up and glared at the smoke alarm. She was appreciative of its warning, but it could get extremely annoying once the danger was over.

  She went to the kitchen window and opened it wide in spite of the cold October day, shutting off the cold water tap on her way to open the screened kitchen door that led to the back yard. Rebecca grabbed the dishcloth off the floor again and flapped it up and down, helping the smoke all but clear before she found the broom and used the handle to press the “hush” button on the alarm mounted on the kitchen ceiling.

  The smoke detector was silenced immediately, letting out a sharp CHIRP. It would continue to chirp vigilantly every thirty seconds for the next seven minutes, reminding everyone that it was there and on guard.

  Rebecca was grateful she had the calendar carefully marked to include regular changing of the batteries in the smoke detectors, and that she’d visited the local fire station and had them teach her how to properly use a fire extinguisher. The first time Nana had set the kitchen on fire had been enough to prompt her to learn all she could about fire prevention and safety.

  Beep! Beep! Beep! The smoke detector in the kitchen was now silent, but the one in the hallway was still going off, as was the one upstairs.

  Were there more fires? Where was Nana?

  Rebecca dropped the broom and the dishcloth and grabbed the fire extinguisher before she ran from the kitchen.

  “Nana!”

  No reply came.

  Sprinting down the hall, she searched Nana’s bedroom, the bathrooms, and the other rooms. The door to the garage was locked when Rebecca checked it.

  Ignoring the other alarms still going off—they’d shut up eventually now that there was no more smoke—she dashed upstairs.

  “Damn noisy in here!” she heard Billy yell from downstairs.

  Rebecca didn’t answer. Slumped on the floor next to the linen closet at the end of the hall was her nana, still clad in her pink bathrobe.

  “Nana!”

  She set the extinguisher down and tried hard t
o swallow the lump in her throat. She ran to her grandmother’s side and knelt beside her. Nana’s hair was disheveled and her eyes were closed.

  Rebecca’s heart all but ceased to beat. Oh, please...

  “Nana?!”

  Rebecca gathered her grandmother in her arms and felt for a pulse like she’d learned in first aid class and was relieved when she found one.

  Nana’s skin was warm, and Rebecca saw her chest rise in a breath. “Nana!”

  “What you yellin’ about, Bit?”

  Rebecca looked up to see Billy standing over her. The big guy shook his head at Rebecca holding her grandmother.

  “Oh, that ain’t good. What—?”

  Billy stopped mid-sentence and sniffed the air. A deep, inhuman growl issued from his throat.

  “You stay up here, and don’t come down ‘til I yell you can, got it?” He didn’t wait for Rebecca to reply before he leapt over the railing down to the ground floor.

  Nana’s eyes fluttered open and she blinked several times.

  “Nana!” Rebecca called again as she patted her grandmother’s cheek.

  Was she hurt? Burned? Just scared? Why had she fainted?

  “Nana, can you hear me? Are you all right?” Rebecca asked, careful to keep her voice calm. Nana was easily upset when she couldn’t remember something, and it only made it worse if she saw Rebecca was upset too.

  Rebecca had learned that a long time ago.

  Nana didn’t reply. She looked at Rebecca as though she knew she was supposed to say something, but didn’t remember what it was.

  Rebecca inspected Nana’s arms and sleeves, checking for burns. She didn’t see any, but that didn’t mean anything.

  “Are you hurt?” Rebecca asked. “Did you fall? Should I call an ambulance?”

  Nana shook her head and looked at the linen closet door. The older woman reached toward it slowly and laid a wrinkled, trembling hand against it. She glanced back to Rebecca.

  “What?” Rebecca asked, taking Nana’s other hand.

  “Couldn’t stop them,” Nana whispered, looking at the door again.

  “Who?” Rebecca asked. “Come on. We’ll find you a chair, and I’ll call an ambulance.”

  “No,” Nana replied, a little louder, though she sounded unsure. “I’ll be all right. Just...give me a minute.”

  “Nana, you need help! I’m trying—”

  “No!” the older woman interrupted, insistent. “They took him! He needs help!”

  She wasn’t confused, Rebecca realized.

  Nana was afraid.

  “He’s dying,” Nana managed, grasping for Rebecca’s hands. Nana squeezed them hard and tugged at them, urgent. “He’ll die without help!

  Demons came through, and I couldn’t stop them taking...I wasn’t strong enough. I didn’t have enough to hold them off... They took him!”

  “Enough? Enough of what?” Rebecca asked, still not understanding.

  “Oh, cripes, Nana! I’m useless! What do I do?”

  “Help me up.”

  Rebecca put an arm around her grandmother’s back and helped the older woman stand. When Nana was steady, Rebecca opened the linen closet door.

  “P...push,” Nana insisted, looking at Rebecca.

  This wasn’t confusion. This was helplessness, as though Nana didn’t have the strength to do for herself instead of not having the mind.

  Rebecca’s fingers found the knot and pushed it. The closet shelves swung inward and back, revealing the entrance to the enclave.

  Nana tried to take a step forward and swayed on her feet unsteadily.

  Rebecca kept her arm around Nana’s back, holding her upright. Reaching for her grandmother’s left hand, Rebecca secured her nana’s arm around her neck and together they stepped into the enclave.

  The bed Ryan had been in that morning was empty, the room a mess.

  The privacy curtains and their frame were ripped to pieces. The chest of drawers that had stood in the corner was overturned, its contents strewn about the room. Books that hadn’t been there when Rebecca left that morning were scattered across the floor, many with their spines broken and pages ripped out. The bedclothes were in disarray, with the mattress hanging half off the bed as though it had been dragged along with whomever had been on it.

  Nana shook her head and lifted a weak hand. Rebecca heard her sniff, and even though Rebecca couldn’t see very well in the low light, she knew her nana was trying hard not to start crying.

  “I couldn’t stop them,” her grandmother whispered again. “That boy is going to die because of me. I’m so sorry, Rebecca.”

  “I’ll call an ambulance,” Rebecca said. “You don’t look good.” Nana shook her head and swallowed hard. “I’ll be fine. Billy’s here.

  He’s Ethereal, and will help—”

  Ethereal. Syd.

  “Where’s Syd?” Rebecca asked suddenly. “Is he all right? Did they take him too?”

  Nana shook her head and looked as though she didn’t have the strength to explain.

  Rebecca thought about asking after him again— where is he? —but her nana looked too tired, and she’d said Syd wasn’t...that they hadn’t... Rebecca wasn’t sure if she were more relived or angry. Syd had said he’d be here! If he’d been here—

  “Come on,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. “You need rest. Let’s get you downstairs.”

  Nana looked toward the bed where Ryan had been and then back at her granddaughter and sniffed again. Rebecca’s heart broke at the helplessness on her nana’s face.

  “There’s nothing we can do right now,” Rebecca said, her voice gentle but firm. “Let’s go downstairs and figure this out.” She put her grandmother’s arm around her neck again. “Have you brushed Mishka today?” Nana frowned at Rebecca. “I’m not a child.”

  That sounded more like Nana.

  Rebecca smiled. “I know. But with all that’s apparently gone on, I wouldn’t be surprised if you forgot her, and you know how she is about being forgotten. You sound a little better. You’re sure you don’t need that ambulance?”

  “Yes,” Nana breathed, nodding. “I’ll be fine soon enough. It was so sudden...”

  Rebecca willed herself not to cry. The danger was over now. There wasn’t a need to cry. She’d kept herself from panicking and freaking out in front of Nana like a baby. Everything was safe.

  Well, safe enough. What could have happened—that was what scared her now.

  Rebecca helped her grandmother out of the enclave and was about to head down the stairs before she remembered what Billy had said about staying where she was.

  She also remembered what he’d said about thinking of him as her bodyguard, and decided it was best to listen to him. The house felt weird—scary and cold and dangerous—like it wasn’t hers. Not like the home she knew.

  She felt like a stranger in her own house...like she didn’t belong here...and knew it wasn’t right. This was her house!

  She shook the feeling off and called for Billy.

  No answer.

  “Billy?” she yelled, louder. Her voice cracked over the name, and she ignored the way her nana looked at her. Rebecca hated herself for being scared and didn’t want her nana to know she was, but...

  “Billy! Come on!” Rebecca shouted, willing strength into her voice.

  She could at least sound like she wasn’t afraid. “Where’s my bodyguard when I need him?”

  “I’m comin’! Damn, Bit—you got a set of lungs on you! Ain’t like I’m deaf you know!”

  Nana gave a tired smile and a quiet chuckle. “Anubi have excellent hearing.”

  “Hey, Martha!” Billy greeted from the top stair. “You look like—”

  “She needs to sit down,” Rebecca interrupted the werewolf. “Help me get her downstairs, huh?”

  “Downstairs ain’t no better than up here, Bit,” Billy said, shaking his head.“Why?” Nana asked, looking from Rebecca to Billy. “What’s happened downstairs?”

  Billy rubbed the back o
f his neck with one of his large hands and looked at Rebecca. He gave her a shrug.

  “Just a little bit of a mess, that’s all,” Rebecca said. “Come on. I’ll make you a cup of tea. It might take me a few minutes. I have some cleaning up to do first.”

  “Let me,” Billy said, and took Nana into his arms like a doll before Nana could protest. “Hey, Martha! How you doin’?”

  “I can walk, you big brute!” Nana said, though she blushed and Rebecca could tell she was pleased.

  “Yeah, but that ain’t no fun for me, is it? Besides, I got this whole hero thing going on with Bit here. Don’t ruin my rep, huh?” Nana blushed again and Billy carried her downstairs.

  “Living room, the big chair,” Rebecca called as she followed them. Nana sure didn’t need to see the kitchen anytime soon. “I’ll bring her tea in there.”

  “Good idea.”

  Settling Nana in her favorite chair, Rebecca thanked Billy and smiled down at her grandmother. Nana’s big white cat appeared out of wherever the smoke alarms had driven her and leaped into Nana’s lap, glaring at everyone as though she had been tortured in all manner of unspeakable ways.

  “It’s all right, Mi-mi,” Nana soothed, stroking the cat. Nana reached for the brush that was always kept on the table at the chair’s side and began to run it through Mishka’s fur.

  “Want some help cleaning up, Bit?” Billy asked.

  “I got it, thanks,” Rebecca said. She smiled at her nana. “Will you be okay here for a bit while I make you a cup of tea?”

  “What was that Billy said about helping clean up?” Nana asked, her brush hesitating in mid-stroke.

  Rebecca looked pained, not wanting to tell her nana what had happened. The smoke alarms were all quiet now, and though the smell of the burnt whatever in the kitchen lingered, it wasn’t too heavy in the air. Something else did, and Rebecca wasn’t sure what, but she didn’t think it was whatever had been in the oven.

  “My casserole,” Nana whispered. “The cheese sauce.”

  “It’s okay,” Rebecca said quickly. “Wel . .not edible ‘okay’. House-intact