by Dean Murray
“You can have the bed,” he said before I got too worked up over it.
“You sure?” I asked.
Instead of answering, he retrieved a quilt from the chest, and booted me from my seat when he returned. I slipped between the cozy bed sheets as he set his weapons on the table beside him and stretched out on the couch. I felt a little bad about taking the only bed, but then again, Nathan was the guy who could sleep propped against a tree. Something told me the couch was more than enough to make him happy.
And me? Well, I was in heaven. The bed, while small, was soft and warm, and exactly what I needed. As I snuggled in for the night, I vowed to never take a proper bed for granted again. When I realized I was enjoying the added benefit of two pillows, I grabbed one in both hands.
“Hey, Nathan?”
“Yeah?”
I tossed the spare across the room, and he caught it just before it smacked him in the face. “Thanks.” I heard, rather than saw, his smile as he propped the pillow behind his head.
“No problem.” I stared at the ceiling, tired but restless. “Nathan?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“There’s a little town nearby,” he explained. “We’ll get some food and supplies to hang out here for a little while.”
“How long do you think we will have to stay here?”
“I don’t know. I’ll get in touch with my base, see if anyone knows anything, and hopefully come up with a plan.”
“You guys have a base?”
There was a beat of silence, as if he hadn’t realized his slip up. “Yes, we do,” he finally admitted. “There’s some organization to keep track of the others, and to fight the war between us.”
War? He had never mentioned anything about a war before. He had also never given this much detail. I wanted to keep him going to see how much I could get out of him. “How long have you been at war with them?” Whatever them were.
He took a while to respond and, when he did, I knew he was purposefully avoiding details. “A very long time.”
That was a dead end.
“You ready to tell me what that five percent is?” I wasn’t hopeful, but I had to keep asking. Eventually, he would answer.
“Nope.”
Shit. Another dead end.
“What do you fight over, other than me apparently?” I asked.
“I don’t know how you fit in,” he muttered, and I heard his frustration at not knowing the answer to the one question we both had. “They relish in inflicting pain and suffering upon others, and spreading their corrupted evil ways throughout the world. My side does what they can to stand in their way.”
In my head, flashed the image of a bunch of burly machine gun-toting men with black suits, black shades, and brass knuckles. Of course, Nathan looked nothing like that, but it was fun to think about. While he was sharing more about his alternate world with me now, it was only a small glimpse. I let it up to my imagination to fill in the rest, and parts of it were...rather interesting.
Other than my involvement in this whole mess, the only other thing I didn’t understand was how Nathan had come to be a part of my life in the first place. That was the biggest mystery of my life. It was a huge deal. To me.
“Is that what happened when I was three?” I asked softly.
There was a long silence before he spoke again. “What do you mean?”
I knew he knew what I was asking. This was his way of making sure I knew what I was asking. “I don’t remember much from that night, but I remember my family being killed, and…” I trailed off, unable to come up with the right words. What little I did know of that night was a perfect example of evil in the world. But I didn’t know the right questions to ask.
Thankfully, Nathan threw me a bone. “Remember how I told you some of us have psychic abilities?”
“Yeah.”
“They monitor the bad guys’ movements so that we can intervene when possible,” he explained slowly. “During slow periods, they also monitor random acts of violence not related to them, bad stuff that happens every day to ordinary people. We can’t stop all of it, but we’ll step in when we can. Especially the particularly gruesome things.” He paused, and I knew he was remembering the night he had found me.
My family’s murders had been particularly gruesome. Or so I had heard in the aftermath. My three year old brain had blocked out the memories of what I had seen, sheltered me then, and still continued to do so. That hadn’t stopped me from hearing people talk about it.
“So a prophet saw what happened that night, and you guys intervened?” I guessed, finally putting a few pieces together.
“Yes, but she didn’t gather enough details,” he said. “That’s why we were too late.”
That was why I had been the only one to survive.
“But it was random? The people that killed my family weren’t the same that we’re running from now?”
“No. Those guys were human scum.” He hesitated briefly. “They’re called Skotadi by the way. The guys that are after us. It’s Greek, means evil ones.”
“Really?” I sat up excitedly. I caught a flash of his eyes as they lifted to mine. “What’s your side called?”
“Kala. Greek for good ones.”
“Huh.” I flopped back onto the bed. It was nice to have a name, even if I still didn’t know exactly what they were. Kala and Skotadi. Good and evil. Good and evil what?
I knew better than to ask again. He wouldn’t tell me, and I didn’t want to slow the river of information he was giving me now by asking the one forbidden question before he was ready to answer it.
I had learned some of the truth about that horrible night, some things I had questioned my entire life. So Nathan had been thrust into my life by chance, and had not been acting alone. It was by chance that he had been the one to find me, and the one I remembered from that night. But what about the other times he rescued me? Was it a coincidence it had always been him? Was any of it a coincidence?
“What happened when I was eleven?” I probed, and he remained silent. “One of the prophets happened upon a bad crime, so they sent you to intervene?”
And the car accident? It had been an accident, not a crime. How did that fit in?
“Sort of,” Nathan said quietly.
I waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. “Nathan?”
“Go to sleep, Kris,” he said.
I sighed heavily and buried my head in the pillow. So much for the river of information.
He was keeping things from me. I knew that, but I didn’t understand why. Was he protecting me from the what-ifs, from the near death and life altering events in my life, or from something else, something bigger? The uncertainty of what he thought he needed to protect me from scared me, but I wouldn’t give up asking. I wanted to know everything, no matter how traumatizing he thought it might be. Eventually he would tell me. I hoped.
And I hoped I would handle it.
CHAPTER 11
My grumbling stomach in the morning made a trip into town for food my first priority. For some reason, Nathan insisted on checking out the shed first. It wasn’t big enough to fit a car inside its walls, so I wasn’t interested in the least. I followed anyway, prepared to be the nagging thorn in his rear if he dallied too long.
Or to rescue him if the thing caved in on him. The stained wood siding was splintered in places, and I swore the walls swayed in the light breeze. Its squeaky hatch lifted like a small garage door, and I took a step back, fanning the particles of dust and wood chips that were launched in the air.
“Bingo,” Nathan said as he darted inside.
I wondered what he was so excited about…until I saw the array of weapons in front of me. That explained it, I thought as I followed him inside. He was such a Rambo kind of guy, I should have expected this.
Hand-crafted wooden counters had been built along two walls inside the shed. Every inch was covered with an assortment of guns, knives, and othe
r weapons I had no name for. Nathan reminded me of a kid in a candy store as he inspected the collection.
I ran my hand over a few knives on the counter closest to the door. Most of them looked like normal knives of varying sizes and shapes, but one of them stood apart from the others. I held it up in the sun and turned it side to side as I admired it. The blade sparkled in the light.
“So, this is your stash?” I asked Nathan.
“Mine and a few others.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Oh hey, be careful with that one.” He crossed the room and gingerly took the knife from my hands. “This one has been cast in diamond. It’s the deadliest kind of weapon to my kind.”
I stared at the sparkling flecks on the blade. Tiny diamonds. “What makes it so deadly?”
“Not sure. Someone at one point figured out that diamond can kill our…non-human part. We have been coating weapons with it ever since. These weapons are very rare and much desired.”
“Your knife is coated too, isn’t it?”
He looked surprised I had noticed that, and nodded his head. “I’ve had it for a long time.”
“Is that what makes the bodies vaporize?”
“Vaporize?” He sounded amused by my word choice. “Yes, the only weapons that can dissipate our souls are the coated ones. Anything coated in diamond will work.”
Dissipate our souls? Sounded heavy.
I eyed the knife as Nathan set it on the counter with the others. “Can non-coated weapons kill you?” I asked.
“Yes, but it’s harder. Our bodies heal faster and are more resilient than human bodies. It’s possible to kill us if you do enough damage, but the body won’t vaporize unless diamond is used. Diamond is preferred because it’s easier, there’s no cleanup, and it’s a guaranteed kill. Even if all you do is wound us, we’ll die later, even from a superficial scrape.”
I snapped my hand back, eyes wide as I looked at Nathan. “Can it hurt me?”
“No, only those of us that aren’t entirely human.” He glanced at me warily as he turned away. “So don’t come anywhere near me with that thing.”
I smiled at his retreating back. He didn’t need to worry. I had no plans to touch anything diamond again. Its safety record with humans was not something I wanted to test.
“Maybe I’ll teach you how to use a few weapons while we’re hiding out here,” Nathan said offhandedly as he surveyed the rest of the shed.
I was about to tell him how bad of an idea that was when he spotted what he was looking for, and crossed to the corner with an excited whoop. He lifted a dusty black sheet from a large oddly shaped object to reveal a motorcycle that had seen better days. It was one of those sleek crotch rocket types, with chipped red paint, a rusty tail pipe, and a flat tire, but Nathan was very excited to see it.
“Old friend of yours?” I asked as I approached for a better look.
“Very old friend,” he said as he circled the machine, rubbing his hand over the seat.
“Yeah no kidding,” I scoffed, but he didn’t notice.
I recognized the look in his eyes. He was in man-on-a-mission mode. “Where would I have put the key?” he muttered under his breath as he crossed to the nearest counter. “Ah-ha!” He snatched a set from a hook on the wall and jingled them as he turned.
“Uh…” I pointed out the rear flat tire before he got too excited.
He frowned and dropped to his knees to inspect it. “It doesn’t look punctured or anything,” he observed, and swept his gaze around the shed. “I have a pump around here somewhere.”
“It looks like you have a variety of everything in here. You know, there are reality shows for people like you. There’s also places you could get help for your...uh, problem. ”
He squinted at me. “I’m prepared.”
“Yeah.” I surveyed the weapons cache. “To take on the Zombie Apocalypse single-handedly.”
I knew I was being bitchy, but come on, I was hungry. There was no way that motorcycle would make it out of the shed, let alone down the mountain to civilization and food. I wanted to tell him to stop wasting time playing with the worthless piece of junk, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t have heard it as the friendly inspiration I intended it to be.
At least he picked up on the hint that I wanted nothing to do with motorcycles and weapons. He sighed as he approached me. “Alright, come on.”
Back in the cabin, he rummaged through the drawers in the kitchen and produced a notepad and a small mini-golf pencil. He handed them to me with instructions to jot down things that we would need to stay there for a few more days.
“What are you going to do?” I asked when he turned to leave.
He paused in the doorway. “Getting our ride into town ready. Unless you’d rather walk?”
He darted outside without waiting for a response. Not that I had one. I wasn’t about to tell him he was wasting his time. If there was one thing I had learned about Nathan the past few days, it was to never, ever challenge him. I decided to let him figure it out on his own that even he had limits. Then I would stand back and enjoy the fallout.
Even more enticing than watching Nathan fail at something was the idea of food, and I had a shopping list to make.
The cabinets were mostly empty. There were a few plates, cups, and some silver ware, but no food, aside from a few packets of hot chocolate and a bottle of creamer that was cemented into one hard lump. Food topped the list. I added shampoo, soap, and toilet paper. There was no washer, and I wondered how we would wash our dirty clothes. Maybe we would just buy new? I wrote down laundry detergent or new clothes with a question mark. I would have to ask Nathan about that one.
Satisfied with my list, I headed outside to see if he had given up yet. Half way to the shed, I heard an engine roar to life and quickened my pace. I found him inside, straddling a completely different motorcycle, with fully inflated tires and a polished tailpipe.
I leaned against the wall, secretly impressed, and observed Nathan’s excitement. Boys and their toys, I thought, and my grin widened. It was nice to see him acting his age for once. Odd, but nice. And, well, he looked mighty fine on a motorcycle.
I waved when he spotted me over his shoulder. With visible reluctance, he killed the engine.
“You did it,” I said cheerily. “Now we go shopping?”
“Not quite.” He grimaced as he stepped off the bike. “You have one more job to do first.”
Crawling into a hole in the ground under the shed had not been on the short list of jobs I had considered. Yet that was where I found myself.
I was going to kill him when I got out of there.
“You see it?” he called from behind me.
“Yeah.” I grunted as I pulled myself forward on my elbows. I yelped when a cobweb tickled my nose, and swatted at it. If a spider crawled on me, God help me, I would lose it.
“Let me know when you got it,” Nathan instructed.
I cursed him under my breath as I inched forward. Reaching my arm out, I gripped the satchel with my fingertips, and wiggled it closer to get a better hold on it.
“I got it. Get me the hell out of here!”
Per my orders, his hands had been on my ankles the entire time. Now, his grip tightened and he pulled. For a brief moment, I thought I would be stuck, and would die buried under the shed in a cold cobweb-infested tunnel. Then I saw daylight. I pushed myself up and hurled the bag at him.
“Thanks.” He opened the satchel and peered in.
I grunted as I surveyed my now ruined clothes. “Next time don’t bury your emergency money stash in a groundhog den. How did you get it down there anyway?”
“I didn’t.”
The look I gave him portrayed the no shit in my head loud and clear. He was too big to fit in there, which was why he made me do it. Obviously, someone small had put it in there for him. If we didn’t need the money to get food and clean clothes, I would have told him to bite me when he asked me to do it. Not that he had given me a choice in the matter.
&
nbsp; Now, with a scowl on my face, I brushed at my mud-caked, spider-ridden hair. “Probably should have had me do that before I showered last night. Now, I need another one.”
He looked me over for the first time since I emerged, and finally saw how dirty I had gotten. He bit on his lip and, if I weren’t mistaken, I would have sworn it was to hold back a laugh.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw why. If it weren’t so gross and I wasn’t so pissed off, I would have found it funny too. My face was streaked in varying shades of brown and I couldn’t even tell my hair was blonde from all the mud in it. Worse, I pulled a cobweb out of it. I jumped in the shower as fast as I could, not waiting to see if any spiders crawled out next.
I was far too hungry to linger, and finished once I had the mud scrubbed off. Again, I had forgotten to bring clean clothes with me. Wrinkling my nose at the muddy mess on the floor, I wrapped a towel around me and cracked the door open. With the coast clear, I darted to the chest beside the bed. I kept one eye out for Nathan as I rummaged through the clothes, looking for something suitable to wear in public.
I had about given up on finding anything small enough that I wouldn’t look like a bum when I reached the very bottom and glimpsed something girly. A smile grew on my face as I uncovered two petite blouses and a pair of jeans that looked close to my size. They were vintage, cute, and just my style.
After I confirmed that Nathan was nowhere in sight, I slipped the jeans on. They were a near perfect fit. I pulled on a striped pink and brown long sleeved blouse because it was the more girly of the two, and that was exactly what I needed after the past few days.
I ran to the bathroom to hang up the towel and stopped in front of the mirror to mess with my hair. Without a blow-dryer, I was forced to pull my hair back in a loose ponytail again. Still, for the first time in days I looked and felt like a girl again. Not even the hideous scar could have wiped the smile off my face as I rushed outside.
Nathan was admiring the motorcycle, glanced up, and did a double take.
“I found a stash of girl clothes,” I beamed as I tugged on the hem of the shirt. My smile faltered when I looked up and saw Nathan’s face.
