“A lot?” asked Min, glancing around the room.
“Enough,” he said.
They were all silent again.
“What are we gonna do?” whispered Min.
“The gates have to be closed,” said Livvy, although she knew the real question was how they were going to do it. There were no giant shamans anymore, no god slayers, no one who could even stand in the presence of something like what she had seen earlier.
SK checked his phone as he ate the last cookie.
“Amazing,” he said, looking at all the text messages and emails. “It’s insane out there.”
Min looked sideways at his phone, fascinated. He was usually strict about keeping all of the clients and shamans separate but these were strange times.
He looked up at Livvy.
“I’d say you’re out of commission for today,” he said, typing something on the keypad.
“You want some work?” he asked Min.
She nearly yelled, “You bet!” and then a look of hesitation came over her face as she gazed down at the book with the picture of Tiamat.
She opened her mouth to answer but a loud thumping came from the front door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LIVVY WENT TO the peephole. Although he was looking down, she could see it was Jack. What was he doing here? Had he had a change of heart? She undid the locks and opened the door but before she could get it all the way open, he shoved it hard. The sudden force sent her flying backward until she landed with a grunt in the middle of the floor.
“You thought you were gonna get away with it, didn’t you!” he screamed.
He ran over to where she had landed, grabbed her jacket, and jerked her up into a sitting position.
“Didn’t you!”
He cocked a fist back as SK said, “Stop right there.”
Surprised that there was anybody else in the room, Jack released Livvy’s jacket and spun around in a crouch, recognizing SK. He laughed, his voice shrill.
“Oh, of course, you’re in it together,” he yelled.
He gave Min a quick look and dismissed her but seeing SK had brought him up short. Livvy scooted backwards, out of his reach, until she came up against the couch.
“In what together?” SK asked, calm, his hands in his jacket pockets.
“Like you don’t know,” spat Jack.
“Right,” said SK, “Like I don’t know. So why don’t you spell it out for me.”
“She killed Indra!” screamed Jack, pointing at Livvy. “You know it!”
“What?” Min said, incredulous.
“No, I didn’t!” yelled Livvy. “I helped her!”
“Is Indra dead?” asked SK.
“That’s right, play dumb,” said Jack. “You’re pathetic, the lot of you.” He turned back to Livvy. “You just couldn’t stand it, could you?”
“Stand what?” said Livvy, too stunned at the news to stand up.
“The fact that I wanted her and not you!”
“That’s insane!” said Livvy, pushing back into the couch, not able to go any further. “I helped her! You saw it!”
“And not twelve hours later, she’s dead.”
He started to advance on her.
“Stay where you are,” warned SK.
There was a delayed reaction as the words seemed to sink in. After a couple of steps, Jack looked over.
“You lay a hand on her,” said SK evenly. “You will regret it.”
“Ha!” Jack laughed. “Who’s gonna stop me? You, little man?”
“I don’t have to stop you. I’m just saying you’ll regret it.”
Although Jack had come with every intention of beating Livvy to a pulp, he obviously hadn’t counted on witnesses. As Livvy watched his face, she realized he also hadn’t considered being the target of a shaman’s attack himself.
He hesitated, clenching his fists as he came up on his toes. Finally, he looked back at Livvy. After long seconds, he sank back down, rage still twisting his face.
“This isn’t the end,” he snarled at her. He looked back to SK. “Not for any of you.”
SK stared back at him, never blinking.
Jack spun on his heel and marched out, leaving the door open behind him. Min went over to help Livvy up, and SK closed the door.
“Would you like to explain that?” he asked.
“I guess Indra died,” she said in a trembling voice.
“And how do you know Indra?” he asked.
Livvy knew that SK played by the old rules and how this must look. Here was Min and now word about Indra. Livvy recounted the entire story. Min nodded her head, realizing how Livvy had recognized the elements of her own problems in the Middleworld. The major difference was that Indra had then died.
“She seemed fine the last time you saw her?” asked SK.
“Shaken, but okay. You guys have to believe me, I would never use a healing for anything else.”
“No,” said SK firmly. “No, there’s no question there. The man was grasping and raving.” He paused. “I guess that’s not unexpected.”
“But something went wrong in the Multiverse,” said Min. “Something later.”
“And it may have killed her in the real world,” continued SK. “That would make two shamans dead.”
“You think they’re related?” asked Livvy.
“I don’t know what to think,” he said. “But it’s a real possibility.”
His phone chimed and he took it out of his pocket.
“All right, I’ve got to go.” He turned to Min. “You, come with me.” Then he turned back to Livvy. “You better get some rest.” As he turned to go, he added, “And keep the door locked.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ALTHOUGH THERE WAS still a faint light in the sky, most of the homeless people had settled into their sagging cardboard condos for the night. Under the freeway, cries and shouts sometimes echoed from the overhead cement but most other sounds were drowned out by the traffic, which wouldn’t be ebbing for hours.
Although some people had old mattresses, the latest newcomers to the camp made due with a pile of clothes for a bed. Some had created their own spaces by stringing grocery carts together and draping black plastic garbage bags between them. Others had dragged in discarded wooden pallets, while the most established residents had found corrugated tin. The old timers also had the premium pieces of real estate, near the flood channel below and on land that was nearly flat. Today’s newest resident climbed to the top of the camp, right up between the raised embankment and the underside of the freeway, where it was loudest and the ground sloped the most. There was no way to roll a grocery cart up this far, but he didn’t have one anyway.
He had learned in other camps that as long as you didn’t bring the cops, molest anybody, or steal from the other residents (much), you could stay if there was room. As the light faded, he leaned back with his head upslope and took out his bottle. It was something strong tonight; something he’d found in a trash can near a bus stop. Lately, those were the best cans.
He took a long swig and looked downslope. There were no fires, and the camp was getting dark fast. The last thing local cops would tolerate was a fire. He took another swig and was watching a couple argue down by the chain link fence at the bottom of the slope when he saw something moving at the edge of his vision. He’d thought he was as far up as you could go and turned to look. Maybe somebody was coming down from above.
It wasn’t a person, though; it was a dog–a huge one. On his way up he’d noticed that some of the people in the camp had dogs. In fact, some had multiple dogs. They claimed it helped with the begging when people saw you had a pet. This dog didn’t look like any of those. It looked too good with its fluffy gray coat and vibrant white highlights.
Below, all at once, the dogs in the camp started to howl. Even with the din of the freeway he could hear it. As he watched, the great dog lumbered down the slope, off to the right. There was a commotion below as some of the residents decided to sc
urry out from under the overpass. Sometimes animals went nuts before an earthquake and these people weren’t going to take a chance. They hadn’t seen the big dog yet.
The dogs that weren’t on leashes had pulled free of their owners and were running away to the left. The others jerked frantically, half choking, half howling as they strained against their ropes and chains. People everywhere in the camp were starting to get up, but nobody seemed to see the big dog.
As he watched it, he realized what it was and sat up.
“It’s a wolf,” he shouted, pointing at it. “A wolf.”
No one turned to look at him, though. Nobody had heard. The howling and yelping dogs and the freeway were drowning out all other sounds. No one was looking upslope either; everyone was watching the small dogs.
He stood up and waved.
“It’s the wolf,” he shouted again, cupping one hand to his mouth.
Again, no one took notice–except the wolf. As he pointed at it, he saw it turn its eyes on him, red eyes that were lit from within. It had stopped its descent down the slope and was looking directly at him. He dropped his hands.
Slowly, it started coming back upslope, head low, staring at him. Then, it began to trot. It went right past a couple of other people as though it hadn’t seen them. The other dogs were going insane. The newcomer started to back up but sat down immediately, dropping his bottle, as his heels dug into the slope. The dogs below were snarling and snapping at their owners, desperate to escape.
The wolf moved at incredible speed and, as it launched itself at him in an arching jump, it laid back its ears and bared its teeth. The newcomer screamed as he brought up his arms to cover his face but his scream was cut short. The giant jaws opened and snapped down around him. But instead of meeting flesh, the savage teeth passed right through him. His vision seemed to jerk sideways for a second, and he felt a moment of nausea. His vision was darkening, but he looked up just in time to see the last thing he’d ever see: the wolf clutching a transparent yellow version of himself in its jaws. His body fell back with a dusty and muffled thud.
As the wolf looked back downslope, chewing and swallowing, the dogs began whimpering. Slowly, it turned around and walked into the side of the hill, disappearing. As the dogs quieted, the camp residents started to settle back down as well. A few altercations started, but mostly people drifted back to their places. Owners alternately scolded their dogs, comforted them and then argued with them, but nobody looked upslope, to the darkest part of the overpass.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
AS SHE LEFT her apartment, Livvy realized she had been hoping to see the kachina waiting in the hallway, but it was empty. Although she had slept in the afternoon, she hadn’t stopped thinking about him. Weird dreams, one after another, had featured him or, more specifically, the search for him, but to no avail.
She exited the building and closed the metal gate behind her, hearing the lock click into place. The night air had become cool. She zipped her jacket up to the chin and kept her hands in the deep pockets. It looked like a full moon, she thought, gazing up as she headed for the bus stop. Nacho hadn’t shown up either, not that he always did, but his absence worried her. She decided to take a shortcut between the buildings to the next block to see if he might be in the alley.
Still thinking about the kachina and Tiamat, and looking for Nacho, she hadn’t noticed the three punks who had followed her.
“Shaman scum,” came a voice from behind her.
Without stopping, she turned to look. They had just passed a streetlight and were backlit. There were three dark figures who looked to be teenage boys. She picked up the pace. The street was still half a block away. The backs of the apartment buildings that lined the alley had carports and trash dumpsters but no path between them that would lead back to the main street.
She heard footfalls behind her now, running. She did likewise. A loud rattling and scraping sound started and, running hard, she glanced back to see one of them on a skateboard.
As she ran past the carports, she looked from one side to the other searching for an escape but there were no paths leading out. Suddenly, there was a shooting pain behind her left knee that almost sent her tumbling, and she heard the skateboard clattering against a wall. The guy had launched it like a missile and although she was still on her feet, she had lost ground. She could hear their footsteps nearly on top of her, and it was clear she wasn’t going to make it to the end of the alley.
“Get her,” hissed a voice from further back, as a hand grabbed the back of her jacket.
She jerked free but again lost ground. Someone grabbed her arm and she swung her bag around in that direction and felt it connect. She heard someone cursing, but they managed to snatch the bag, which was still looped around her torso.
She writhed as she tried to free herself from it, but her arm became tangled and then she slammed into the ground on her side.
As she struggled to get up, she realized that she was helping their cause as the three of them managed to jerk her completely off the ground. They quickly moved over to the darkness of the nearest carport.
“Help!” she screamed. “Help!” she managed a second time before a hand grabbed her face, covered her mouth, and forced her head against the stucco wall with a crunch. A whiff of ozone was the only remnant of the static spark that had been smothered just below her nose.
They were almost in complete darkness, under one of the carport overhangs, in a narrow space between the wall and a car.
“Shaman scum,” hissed one of the boys, all of whom had shaved heads and were taller than her. “We’re sick of your kind, white witch.”
He was breathing hard and Livvy could smell alcohol and cigarettes.
“Just do her,” said one of the other ones.
There was one on each side, pinning her arms to the wall.
“Hurry, man,” said the other.
The one with his hand over her mouth gave her a crooked smile. A gleaming gold cap over one of his eyeteeth glinted in the dimness. With his other hand, he unzipped her jacket. She tried to jerk away, but the other two had tight grips. She managed to get off a kick, but it glanced off the one in front of her. Someone stepped down hard on that foot.
“Come on, man, hurry,” said the first one.
“Shut it,” growled the one in front of her, glaring at the guy on her left. “You’ll get yours.”
When he moved his head, Livvy could see a small red light flashing on the dash of the car behind him–a car alarm.
He grabbed her shirt and yanked it up to get to the top of her jeans, but as his hand shifted, she opened her mouth and bit down hard, tasting blood. He yelped in pain, taking his hand back and backing up. His two accomplices were as surprised as he was and for the few seconds she needed, they loosened their grips. She kicked desperately between the guy in front of her and the guy to the right and landed a solid foot on the car, setting off the alarm.
“Filthy witch,” yelled the one in front, as he landed a quick punch to her mid-section.
The air escaped her in a rush as she doubled over. The guy on her left let go, and she swung sideways without equal support, coming down on one knee. The car alarm was blaring in the confined carport but she was barely hearing it, barely hanging on to consciousness as the pain of the blow sapped the rest of her body’s ability to move.
“Hey!” said one of them. “Somebody’s coming.”
The other hands let go, and she started to sink, sliding down against the wall until a hand around her throat stopped her.
“I’ll be coming for you, shaman,” he said, breathing in her face as he squeezed his fingers tighter. “You better not be here when I get back.”
He shoved her head back, and it hit the wall with a thump. As she slid to the ground, she saw their feet retreating before her eyes closed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
BY THE TIME the paramedics arrived, she was able to sit up. As they approached, the woman who had helped her stood up and re
joined the small crowd that had assembled in the alley. Livvy tried to stand up as well.
“No, just hold on for a second,” said the paramedic in front as he eased her slowly back to the ground. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Livvy,” she said, grunting as she sat down. “I mean Olivia.”
“Good, Livvy, do you have a last name?”
“Lawson.”
“Olivia Lawson,” said the paramedic. “Good. Can you tell me where you live?”
A police car slowly rolled into the alley and came to a stop in front of the crowd.
She gave her address.
“Are you in any pain?” asked the paramedic.
Livvy recognized him then.
“You’re the guy from the hospital,” she said, weakly.
He smiled a gorgeous smile.
“That’s right,” he said, still smiling but moving his hands down her arms feeling for any broken bones. “Your memory’s all right.”
His partner put a pressure cuff around one of her arms and inflated it.
“How many fingers do you see?” said the paramedic.
“Two,” she said.
The police officer came over with Livvy’s bag and a clipboard.
“Real good,” said the paramedic. He took a small pen light out of his pocket. “Follow the light for me,” he said as he pointed it between her eyes and then moved it off sideways. “Good,” he said, going back to the center. “Again,” he said, going in the other direction.
“Blood pressure and heart rate are normal,” said the other paramedic. “No sign of concussion?”
“No sign of concussion,” said the first paramedic, who looked back down to her. “Do you want to try standing?”
She nodded yes.
“All right, let’s have you sit on the edge of the ambulance for a bit. We’re going to help you up, so try not to go too fast. We’re going to take it nice and slow.”
Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Books 1 -3 Page 10
