Guardian's Rise

by Matthew Renard

  Wait.

  I looked back at the glass. Yeah, definitely ice cubes still in there. And the fireplace is going full steam. Someone else is definitely in this house...

  ‘AHHHHHHHH! Jaaaaaaaasoooooon!’

  I ran out of the room, running towards the unmistakable hollering of my best friend.

  ‘I’m gonna have a raiiiil deaaaaaath!’ He screamed, as I rounded a corner to find him hurtling towards me, full pelt. Leaping up lightly and letting myself hover, I caught Sammy as he ran and gently span him around, moving backwards quickly out of the way of whatever was chasing him.

  Nothing was there.

  I lowered him back to the ground gently. ‘What the hell was that?’

  ‘There was...’ he pointed back the way he came. ‘There was a ghost!’

  I snorted. ‘A ghost.’

  ‘A ghost!’ He stared at me. ‘I’m telling you, Jay, we need to get out of here.’

  ‘There’s no such things as-’

  ‘AAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!’ A high pitched shriek echoed through the hallway, and despite the fact I knew there was no ghost...well, reasonably sure, Sammy had to push hard to beat me out of the house. Zakkia was already outside, hands to her knees and gasping for air, like she was trying to not be sick.

  ‘I suppose...’ she said between gasps, ‘I don’t have to ask if you’re interested?’

  ‘No we’re bloody not!’ Sammy yelled, running towards the car.

  It had gone.

  Chapter 13

  Gnarlers

  ‘Where’s the car?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ I shook my head. ‘I was with you in the house, remember? I didn’t ask it to drive off.’ I turned to the estate agent, to ask for a lift back to the city, to see her speeding off, mild panic on her face.

  ‘Oh, excellent.’ I sighed. ‘Well done, Sammy. You scared off the only person around for miles.’

  ‘Except the ghost.’

  ‘There is no ghost!’

  ‘Whatever, man. Let’s just get back, okay?’ He brightened momentarily. ‘Hey, I could really get my step count up! That should help with my A.P.Ps.’

  ‘With your what?’

  ‘AwaTen Potential Points.’

  ‘I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Well-’

  A soft moan echoed through the air, interrupting Sammy from whatever he was going to talk about.

  ‘Please tell me that was you.’ Sammy eyed me.

  ‘Did it sound like me?’

  ‘A little, yeah.’

  The moan came louder, from our left. Through the rapidly descending mist, I could just about make out the shape of a person. They looked elderly, as they were stooped over gently, in that way old people sometimes do. They were moving at a fair pace, although the moaning suggested they weren’t happy about it.

  ‘We should go see if they’re alright...’ I started towards the old person when a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

  ‘Don’t go.’

  ‘Why not? Do you hate old people now, too? This isn’t Blazing Saddles, Sammy. Just because one cop is a racist arsehole doesn’t mean little old ladies will be, too.’

  ‘What? No.’ He pointed with a shaky hand. ‘That’s not an old person.’

  ‘Of course it...’ I trailed off, looking - and I mean really looking.

  As the outline got closer, details started to form. The right foot, which had been giving it the shambling appearance, was at an unnatural angle - despite this, it didn’t seem to cause the figure any pain. The right shoulder was far higher than the left, which I hadn’t noticed at first because the head, which looked a little misshapen, was also lopsided. As it came through the mist (seriously, where the hell did this come from?) it stretched out with greying fingers attached to gnarled, twisted hands that looked like tree bark.

  A Gnarler!

  ‘Oh, crap.’

  Sammy glanced at me. ‘Still want to go and say hello?’

  ‘Hell no.’

  ‘Maybe you should. “Gnarlers are people too”, remember?’ He gave me a faux innocent look, and snorted, turning away.

  I looked around for shelter. ‘We could...’

  ‘No. We’re not going back into the haunted house.’

  ‘It’s not haunted!’

  Sammy shoved me slightly. ‘If you’d seen what I’d seen...’

  I shook my head. ‘Trust me. It’s not haunted.’

  ‘I’m still not going in there.’

  ‘Okay.’ I pointed to the Gnarler. ‘Then how do you propose we deal with that?’

  It was close enough now to make out clothes. A blue floral dress under a white cardigan, the tattered remains of a red baseball cap on it’s... her... it’s head.

  ‘Look at it. It was probably someone’s grandmother once.’

  It turned its head slightly, staring at us. The jaw of the Gnarler swung down slightly, and it let out an un-naturally loud cry that had Sammy and myself clutching our ears.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Sammy nodded to it. ‘Granny Gnarler’s got some lungs on her! Put her out of her misery.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Foil her!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Use your damned sword!’

  I stared at him. ‘That’s murder! No!’

  ‘She’s a Gnarler now! She’ll kill us first.’

  As if using his words as an instruction, the Gnarler leapt right at us, grasping at our bodies. We jumped back and my Flame Foil erupted, seemingly of it’s own accord.

  ‘Yeah, boy!’ Sammy crowed, stepping behind me. ‘Slice and dice.’

  ‘I am not “slicing and dicing”, Sammy.’ Nevertheless, I waved the sword in front of the Gnarler’s face, and it seemed to keep her back.

  ‘Why’d you get the sword out, then?’

  ‘It was a reflex!’

  The Gnarler screamed again, and this time, from further back, more howling responded to it.

  ‘Jay?’

  ‘Yeah, I heard it.’

  ‘Look!’ He pointed a shaking arm over my shoulder, and I followed it. There was a huge mass of bodies slowly emerging from the mist. Momentarily distracted, I let my guard down and the Gnarler in front of me lunged again. Yelping, I batted the arm away with the Flame Foil before I could think. With a scream and a sizzle, a gnarled and grizzled right arm fell to the floor, smoking at the cut.

  ‘Woah!’

  I stared at the arm, and then the howling Gnarler, which was reeling back, clutching at it’s stump. ‘That’s not supposed to be hot enough to do that...’

  ‘Who cares? It’s only a Gnar-AAAHHH!’ Sammy screamed as the Gnarler lunged again. I stepped back and to the left, out of the reach of the one-armed geriatric monster.

  The snarls and howls of the approaching mob grew louder, and I could start to pick out some details from the crowd: plaid shirts, jeans, some doctors lab coats; all shredded, soiled and nearly unrecognisable. Their skin tones all made them blend in with the mists perfectly, a natural camouflage. Despite the sword cutting through the mist nearby, it was like holding up a match in the darkness - useful right in front of me, but pointless three feet away.

  ‘Fly us out of here!’

  ‘What?’ I blinked, dodging another one-armed swipe.

  ‘Are you a Superhero or what?’ Sammy snapped. Without thinking, I backhanded the Gnarler away as hard as I could, and it literally flew backwards, crashing into a billboard advertising a new Lemniscate building outside of Willowbrook “coming soon”. I stared at my arm. ‘What the hell was that?’

  ‘How bloody strong is your arm?’ Sammy yelled.

  ‘Uhh...’ I thought back. ‘I went for a 1.5 strength arm. I wanted to be slightly stronger than normal...’

  ‘1.5?’ Sammy started laughing, despite the situation. ‘You idiot. That’s not percentage. That’s tonnes!’

  ‘What?’ I yelped, staring at my hand.

  ‘Now get us the hell out of here!’

 
The other Gnarlers, now unobstructed by their fellow mindless zombie, came lumbering towards us at greater speed. As they got closer I grabbed Sammy with my left arm and hit my belt with my right hand, protecting myself with the forcefield.

  ‘Oh, that’s great.’ Sammy growled. ‘Why not give the impenetrable force field to the guy without a giant sword made out of fire?’

  Before I could answer him, the sound of screeching tyres filled the air. Out of the murky grey, the outline of a white van had appeared, and two people got out. The Gnarlers closest to the van turned, distracted, and the ones closest to us slowed in their approach.

  ‘Here’s some! Get them in, quick!’ I heard a voice shout. Another voice announced assent, and the two men got some wire netting, throwing it on a Gnarler.

  ‘Hey!’ I shouted, in disbelief.

  ‘Shut up!’ Sammy hissed. ‘Get us out of here whilst everyone’s distracted.’

  I nodded, hesitating for only a moment, before igniting my legs and boosting myself and Sammy away from the area.

  ‘That was close.’ Sammy yelled. I nodded. ‘Next time,’ he continued, ‘do that first, and be argumentative later, yeah?’

  ‘Okay, yeah.’ We watched as the Phillips house vanished below us, along with the white van, the two men looking successful in capturing some of the Gnarlers. On the road leading to them, red and blue flashing lights showed that there was a response unit on the way to deal with the Gnarlers.

  ‘Poor things.’

  ‘What, the cops?’ Sammy screwed up his fact, no doubt remembering his earlier interaction with a Capehill Police officer.

  ‘No, the Gnarlers.’ I shook my head in an exaggerated way, having learned subtle movements didn’t always translate well through the force field and hologram. ‘They didn’t ask to be turned into those... things.’

  ‘And their victims didn’t ask to be murdered and eaten, Jay.’

  ‘Gnarlers don’t eat people.’

  ‘Says you.’

  We flew for a minute or two in silence, before a memory popped into my head. ‘Hey, Sammy?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Want to feel alive?’

  Sammy looked at me suspiciously. ‘Uhm... don’t take this the wrong way, Jay, but you’re seriously not my type.’

  I snorted. ‘No. Remember what you said you’d do to me if you got Augmented?’

  I saw him recall exactly what he said. ‘Don’t you dare...’

  ‘You said you’d fly us up to the highest point, and then drop me. To make me feel alive.’

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ He repeated. I replied by putting on some speed and moving higher. ‘Jason Anson, don’t you even think about it. You’re so uncoordinated you couldn’t even catch a cold.’

  I chuckled and levelled off, Sammy wrapping around me to stay on. Over the wind, I could hear him mutter ‘This isn’t a horror movie, you’re not going to die. This isn’t a horror movie, you’re not going to die.’ In deference to his terror, I landed us as soon as possible, in a secluded area which was still a part of civilisation. A few minutes later, we were in a taxi.

  As we travelled back to the hotel, Sammy describing the vision he’d seen back in the house. ‘It was floating off the ground, a wispy white woman hanging in the air-’

  ‘A “wispy white woman”?’

  ‘Shh.’ He glared. ‘Alliteration is key to good storytelling. Not that you’d know anything about that.’ He continued. ‘It stared at me with dead black eyes and reached out bony, spectral arms slowly towards me. It moaned gently and whispered. Too scared to run, I leaned forwards to hear what it had to say.’

  ‘...And?’

  His eyes got wider. ‘It said my name.’

  ‘Bull.’

  ‘Jay, I’m serious. It whispered “Saaaaaammmmmmmy”. That’s when I turned and ran.’

  ‘You screamed.’

  ‘I shouted!’ He protested as we got out of the car and into the hotel.

  ‘You shrieked. Like an eight-year-old girl who’s seen a spider in the bathtub.’

  He glared at me as we got into the elevator. ‘I saw a ghost.’

  ‘A ghost that drinks whisky.’

  ‘What?’

  The elevator doors closed as I began to explain what I had seen.

  ‘Well, that doesn’t make sense.’

  We were back in my suite, lounging around. ‘I’m not saying it makes sense, Sammy. I’m just saying that I saw what I saw.’

  ‘And so did I.’ He scratched his chin slowly. ‘Do you think that it may be a ghost with a human collaborator?’

  ‘No, I think it wasn’t a ghost.’

  ‘Prove it.’

  ‘Disprove it.’ I shot back.

  ‘I saw a ghost.’ Sammy crossed his arms smugly. ‘Therefore, that’s all the proof I need to say that I saw a ghost.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Whatever.’

  Sammy yawned, and checked his wrist. ‘And what was the deal with those two guys in the van?’

  ‘The ones nabbing Gnarlers?’

  ‘Yeah, them.’ He shook his head. ‘That was weird. I think it was a Lemniscate van.’

  ‘Well, they’re conservationists, right?’

  ‘Amongst other things. Action Barbie wasn’t really clear.’

  ‘So,’ I continued, trying to ignore the reference to Emily, ‘Maybe they’re trying to cure them. Fix the Gnarler problem so we don’t have to.’

  Sammy laughed. ‘Yeah, good one.’ He stared at his wrist again. ‘At least my heart rate got high enough to register some exercise. And my steps are looking pretty good.’ He waved his arm at me. ‘My APPs are going to hit the target today.’

  I recalled our earlier conversation. ‘Oh, yeah. What are A.P.Ps?’

  ‘AwaTen Potential Points! You know, “AwaTen your potential?”’

  I looked at him blankly. ‘That tells me literally less than nothing.’

  He tapped his step counter. ‘Every step I make at a normal pace, with a normal heart rate, is worth one APP. If I move faster and my heart rate is beating higher, that raises the APPs. Right?’

  ‘Okay?’

  ‘The harder I exercise, the more APPs I get. I’m working out more with my heart-rate elevated, so I achieve a higher AwaTen Potential score.’

  I nodded slowly. ‘So it’s, what? Turning exercise into a game?’

  ‘Sort of, yeah.’ He pulled his phone out and tapped on the screen. A holographic display appeared in the air before us, and he oriented it to face me. ‘See? Here are my Awa-Ten.’

  ‘Your what?’

  ‘The nine people that the website says I’m best matched for in terms of competition. I need to beat them on the scoreboard every day.’

  ‘And what do you win?’

  ‘I awaken my potential.’

  I shook my head. ‘But what does that mean? What do you get out of it?’

  ‘Bragging rights, I guess.’ Sammy turned off the display, gloomily. He wasn’t in first place, and he hated losing. ‘Honestly, it’s just a bit of fun. A good way to inject some healthy competition into things.’

  ‘You’re competitive enough.’

  He yawned again. ‘Yeah, and it’s honestly a bit draining to keep up with some of these people.’ He shook his head, clearing it, it seemed, of the mental fog that threatened to weigh him down. ‘Anyway, you going to do what Michael suggested?’

  ‘What, not move into a haunted house? You bet.’

  ‘Ah-hah!’ Sammy pointed a triumphant finger at me. ‘You admit it. It’s haunted.’

  ‘Haunted in the sense that something unusual is going on. People can haunt things too. Not just ghosts.’ I allowed. ‘Not that I think that’s what you meant.’

  ‘No.’ He smiled, and gently rocked his brandy back and forth in the snifter he had been drinking out of. Before we got here, he didn’t even drink brandy, let alone out of a crystal snifter, I realised. Sammy had taken to the life of a rich person quickly, and well. ‘I mean, Michael’s idea about you registering as a Powe
red Individual.’ He held up a hand against my argument. ‘Yes, you’re Augmented, not Powered. But you heard Michael - the assumption is you’re a PI. If you’re not registered, you’ll draw attention.’

  ‘So what do I do? If Jason Anson registers as a PI, that’ll draw some attention, too.’ I shook my head. ‘As much as Michael’s only worried about the PR side of things, I don’t want people coming after Emily.’

  ‘...And me.’ Sammy finished, glaring.

  ‘You can look after yourself.’

  ‘So can Emily.’ He sighed. ‘You really need to get it into your head that she’s a lot more capable than you give her credit, sometimes. Action Barbie.’

  ‘Anyway...’ I tried to draw his attention back to the matter at hand. ‘Do you have any ideas on how I can prevent myself from becoming an easy target?’

  ‘I can stop Jason Anson becoming a target, yes. You, not so much.’ Sammy smiled smugly. ‘Got your passport to hand?’

  ‘My passport? What’s...’ Understanding crept over me. ‘Ohhh.’

  We shared a smile, and I raised my soda glass in a toast, which he matched.

  ‘You need to start drinking a proper drink.’

  ‘Never drink and fly.’

  Later, to clear my head of everything that had gone on recently, I decided to take my own advice: I hadn’t had a drink, so I flew over the city. Above the clouds, the golden rays from the sun neither directly in my eyes or bothering me that much from this relatively low altitude, thanks to my artificial eyes automatically dimming the brightness, Capehill really looked beautiful. I waved hello to the other fliers I saw and noted with interest the reserved way they responded - it was clear that they didn’t know what to make of me. I watched with interest as some fiery blurs shot through the streets closer to the centre of the city, deciding they must be Runners, the common term for people with superspeed. As fast as I had been with my earlier 5k jog, there was no way I could ever dream of keeping up with those people: I switched my vision to thermal, and saw how they heated up the pavement beneath their feet as they ran, leaving an easy to trace trail, even with the concrete below their feet soaking up the heat of the sun. I followed one in particular, watching it shoot through the city and out towards Tarkenden.