Strange Omens

by Jim Stein

  “I hope you like it.” Dwain gave Pina a deep, awkward bow, only rising after she nodded her approval.

  Sprites had been piling gifts outside for the past two days. Most of it was edible. The small handcrafted trinkets delighted Pina too, but how would we transport this thing without killing it? Hell, I didn’t even know if a tropical plant could survive back in Pennsylvania.

  “Oh, there’s little fruit on it!” Pina clapped her hands in delight, causing Dwain to blush and bow again.

  He clearly had a thing for her, but there was more to this relationship. All the sprites were acting exceptionally…deferential to my friend, as though Pina was royalty. And she didn’t seem inclined to dissuade them.

  “If your majesty will excuse me?” I made my own bow. Pina beamed and gave me a wink. “I have business to attend to before we depart. Perhaps my sister can figure out how to transport yon greenery.”

  That last earned a scowl from Piper and an anxious wringing of hands from Dwain.

  “Don’t worry,” Piper said. “We’ll make everything fit.”

  I rubbed Ralph’s head on my way out. His ears flapped as he clung to Max’s old toy and stared at the dog bed and toys piled with our gear. Their presence filled a bit of the aching void. Yep, all of it would have to fit in Piper’s big SUV.

  I found Manny going over checklists with Billy. The RV gleamed in the morning sunshine. Everything looked so normal. It was hard to believe the craziness we’d been through, even harder to accept the Brights would no longer be persecuted.

  “Manny, we need to talk,” I said as I stepped up into the coach.

  “Do we now?”

  Both men sat at the dinette, Billy’s long legs spilling out into the aisle. I was glad to see Jinx and Charles were out. I plopped down on the couch and considered my words. Billy already knew strange happenings were afoot. He’d rushed downtown and seen some of the fantastic events first hand. He certainly deserved to know what was going on in his band.

  “Tell me the Brights are safe.”

  “None of us are truly safe.” Manny rushed on, seeing I wasn’t about to put up with any more crap. “But I would think they are for now. There has been a significant shake up in the company. Attentions are diverted. I’m not even sure who my boss is anymore.”

  “Your company sent Charles…” I left the statement dangling with implication.

  “Yes, and he’s excellent.”

  “Ex-military, assigned by the same people who brought the Grims down on us, and you’re okay with him?” I seethed at Manny’s calm and oh-so-rational demeanor.

  Manny and I had been at odds from the start, but the man certainly helped when the chips were down. He wasn’t in on the mad rush to subvert Koko’s children, but we still rubbed each other the wrong way. I couldn’t afford a mole from the Dark Court lurking among my friends.

  “Everything isn’t as black and white as you’d like to believe.” Manny collected papers from the table and stood. “There have always been factions with intertwining and overlapping ambitions. A rather dramatic void was created in that power structure. Lines and boundaries are shifting.” He sighed at my gritted teeth. “Charles does not pose an immediate threat. Sending him away would.”

  “Billy?” I watched him soaking the conversation in and realized we needed to have a long talk.

  “Guy’s a decent drummer. Rigid, but he’ll loosen up. Tour’s almost over. Unless we renew the contract, we’re free to rethink who’s on drums.”

  “Very true,” Manny said. “We’re not all bad guys.”

  “Sure, pick your poison,” I scoffed.

  “Don’t push me.” Manny jabbed out his index finger, then touched it to his pursed lips. “I care about the music as much as you do. I care about doing right by the audience. Gods help me, I even care about the band and their hangers-on. Billy’s satisfied. I’m satisfied. You’re just going to have to learn to live with it.”

  So there it was, an ultimatum. My stomach churned, knowing that letting Charles stay was just asking for trouble. Manny’s face flushed through a couple interesting shades. He really did care about the band, but that didn’t mean he was right about the threat.

  “I’ll be watching.”

  “As will I.”

  ***

  I studied the old ash tree while my sister started the car and adjusted her mirrors. Ralph sat on the dash, looking for all the world like one of those bobble-head dolls that came back into vogue a few years ago. The branches spread wide, leaves shading the glade along the wild bank of hedges Max loved to explore. We buried him there, between his bushes and Randy’s memorial. He’d like being near grass and water. Maybe there was even a little bit of our old drummer there to keep him company. The mound of bare dirt fell behind as Piper swung out of the parking lot to follow Pioneer and the other cars heading for Indiana.

  Our small convoy passed the beleaguered hostel and the broken streets beyond. I watched for skulking ghouls, but all seemed quiet. The patch of street where I’d trapped so many of the enemy stood out as a section of tan and green against dirty gray. After the fighting, the sprites spent all night chipping our prisoners free, leaving sandy rubble in place of pavement. Pointy green shoots jutted up from the area, aggressive weeds taking advantage of the disturbed ground. A blush of purple lined the far end where it faded into shadowy ruins, dark even at midday beneath the crumbling buildings.

  ***

  Indy proved wholly uneventful. We played the Great Hall, a massive downtown structure built just a few years ago to honor the cultural diversity of Indianapolis’s heyday. The vast maze of exhibits merged everything from dinosaur encounters to art and rhythm under one roof. The band became instant celebrities without having to deal with VIP mixers and the whole Bright-Grim dynamic. A few lucky parents even brought their little kids.

  The week provided much needed rest and relaxation. An unusually subdued Rhonda didn’t ride me about my work or try to stick me with a janitor’s closet. Everyone got luxurious accommodations, but my room felt too big for just Ralph and me. We also had plenty of time to reflect on the tour and mourn lost friends. Although Anna and Cindy made full recoveries, Patty and three other Brights never returned. I hadn’t met the ones found dead in the tour’s wake, but their loss weighed on us all.

  Brights drifted away to their homes or on to new adventures. We exchanged contact information—of nebulous use given the state of the country—and promised to keep in touch, that sort of thing. One ace in the hole was our discovery that Fire could communicate over long distances. Enough of us had the ability that we’d be able to keep a loose network in place and check up on one another, just in case the things that go bump in the night took another run at anyone.

  Quinn and I spent some quality time together exploring the hall, eating too much, and generally enjoying each other’s company. It was a remarkable change from the cold shoulder I’d endured for most of the trip. Intellectually, I understood she’d gone off without me and kept me at arm’s length for my own protection. I’d gone to so much trouble last year to hide from the dark that when the water babies and panther found Quinn, she did her best to keep me out of the crossfire. Water under the bridge. They knew about us now.

  “Are you sad to see it end?” Quinn asked as we bounced about on the bed.

  “The tour? Yes and no. It’ll be good to get home.”

  The motorhome lurched again, nearly sending us both to the floor. Billy let me ride with the band on the final leg into New Philadelphia. I think he wanted me to get to know Charles better. After a few hours of strained small talk, Quinn and I retreated to the back bedroom to play cards. But concentrating on the game proved impossible.

  Riding in the big rig was exciting…and loud. When the road turned rough, things got downright hazardous, especially if you happened to be standing. Technically, we all should belt in at the dinette or sofa, but what fun would that be? Another pothole bounced us to the center of the bed, and our heads cracked together.
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  “The station’s going to seem boring after this.” Quinn rubbed her forehead and stuffed a mound of pillows between us.

  “I’m okay with that. Though I’d like to…you know, see more of you.”

  “Depends on where Billy goes with the contract.” Quinn smiled at my confusion. “That’ll be the key to whether you’re allowed to record our next album.”

  I hit her with a pillow right in the face. She was about to retaliate when there was a knock and the pocket door slid open.

  “If you two are done cuddling, Billy wants everyone up front.” Charles smirked precisely two seconds at his own wit, then turned away.

  “I hate that guy.” I waited for Quinn to argue.

  When she didn’t, I shrugged and rolled to my feet. Billy had the shortwave radio set up on the dinette, but he waved us to the front.

  “Still can’t raise Main Line. We’re only about an hour out so figured I’d tune in the broadcast.” Billy dropped into the passenger seat, reached for the radio, and turned up the volume.

  We huddled around as Jinx did his best to dodge the man-eating potholes on Interstate 76. At first there was simply static, then an undulating whine resolved into a pure, familiar tone.

  “This is not a test. I repeat, this is not a test. Civil authorities have issued an emergency alert. All residents within and around the borders of New Philadelphia are encouraged to stay in their homes. Militia should report to their point of muster for further instructions. Stay tuned to this broadcast for updates on the nature of the emergency. This is not a test.”

  “That sounds like David,” I said.

  “Sure does.” Billy checked his watch. “They’ve been looping the same message on the quarter hour. Probably set up for automatic broadcast.”

  “Regular programs in between?” I held tight to the back of the seat as Jinx turned down I-476 and the terrain turned familiar.

  “Just a repeating weather report from three days ago.”

  We stayed glued to the radio on the way in, and Billy tried the shortwave twice. The vague announcement had us all on edge despite the scenic drive down from the North. A bit of old suburbia flashed by when we crested a hill. Shops and houses stood within the trees, draped in vines and vying with the forest. Trees grew any and everywhere, creating bizarre half-manmade, half-natural canopies, as if primordial forest was superimposed over suburbia or vice versa—two eras colliding. Quinn clutched my hand as Jinx finally guided us down familiar roads.

  “It’s so quiet,” she whispered.

  “Yeah, there ought to be traffic, people out and about down this far. Hell, it’s quitting time.”

  “Hate to interrupt, boss,” Jinx said. “But I’ve got a string of vehicles behind me who might want a heads up if we’ve got a problem.

  “Good point.” Billy craned to look in the side view mirror, then checked the map display on the dash. “That scenic overlook coming up should have room for everyone to pull off.”

  I coughed and turned away to cover the heat in my cheeks. I’d been about to answer Jinx. What on Earth made me think he was talking to me?

  Billy hit it on the head. Maybe three miles down the road, a loop split off to the right. Any signs were long gone, but the trees had been kind enough to stay off the pavement. The RV crunched to a stop, air brakes squealing out their displeasure.

  Piper led the parade of ten cars that followed—counting Manny’s stretch blank-check-of-a-ride. The hillside was steep enough for us to see over the trees into town. Pete’s farm sat out to the right covered in green and purple, which made me wonder if they were growing eggplants. If that wasn’t the oddest fruit on Earth, I didn’t l know what was.

  “What is that?” Piper asked as she joined us.

  She pointed down into town. It was deserted like the highway, just an ordinary intersection and row of shops. The farmers’ market where I used to play my horn sat just on the other side of the buildings. We were probably looking at the backside of the bakery. The thought of Maggie’s jelly doughnuts made my mouth water. Then I saw what she meant.

  “Are those weeds growing in the street?” Details were difficult to see from this distance, but it did look like tufts of green coming up in the road and driveways. Smudges of emerald even clung to the back of the buildings.

  “Here.” Jinx jumped out of the rig and handed me a pair of binoculars.

  A sparse carpet of spiky plants covered the scene below. Some did indeed sprout from the brickwork and stucco of the old shopping plaza. Dots of purple showed among the snaking leaves where the weeds grew thickest and blossoms just started to open. I passed the binoculars to Piper.

  “Oh my god!” Quinn pointed beyond the nearest lot where the color of the streets seemed off.

  Was that—I took back the binoculars to get a better look. Sand blanketed a swath of town, rising in gentle ridged hills. Rooftops and trees poked through the dunes. A gust of wind caught at the loose material, somehow—impossibly—making the dune shift and lengthen to envelope an empty playground. The dune receded like a wave pulling back with the tide to leave sandy ground dotted with green weeds.

  “Ed?” Billy’s voice held a note of barely controlled panic.

  “I don’t know.”

  Manny and Rhonda pushed through the ring of onlookers and gaped at the scene below. If this was another ploy by the Dark Court, they’d moved way beyond targeting Koko’s children.

  “Manny?” I passed Billy’s question on, but the road manager just shook his head. “We need to get down there and find somebody who knows what’s going on.” Barring that, I only knew of one other person who might. “And I need to take a nap—ASAP.”

  Epilogue

  U KTENA STRETCHED wings and legs as he moved through the thick underbrush. Even in dragon form, his body ached in more places than should be possible. His claws gouged furrows as he flexed and relaxed abused muscles. It had been too long since he fought an opponent near his own strength.

  The serpent was his very nature, but Uktena had to admit its elegant design lacked offensive weapons. Fangs and venom were a necessity for the hunt, but Katshitaushtu—or simply Katshit as he liked to think of the stiff-legged bear—was immune. Given enough time, he could have bested the beast, once the annoyingly pure energy from the queen of the sprites had been shut down. That was cheating, but of course the darkness abided by few rules.

  Uktena saw the appeal. His unsanctioned actions shattered the accord with the Neutral Council so he was no longer bound by their suffocating strictures. The freedom was…liberating. He felt like a hatchling again, fresh from the cauldrons of creation and ready to take on the universe.

  White sails played across the sky as he poked his snout through the last hedgerow. The old ash tree stood silent sentinel over the clearing and fresh mound of dirt that rose only a wingspan away. He again clawed the soil, losing himself in the aches and pains. When he opened both sets of eyelids the mound remained, dutifully marking the spot.

  The humans had such odd rituals. A big cat or lesser predator might bury their kill to keep it safe from scavengers. Little tree rodents planted their fall spoils, but more often than not forgot those treasure troves.

  To bury a pet, especially a revered animal such as this dog Max, seemed more affront than homage. The animal’s bravery and resolve had spurred Uktena himself into action. The dog did him a great service. But that had been the furry creature’s way. Uktena recalled that first time Max so cleverly sniffed him out through their bond, how he brought him toys for mending, and how the silly animal pushed the great hunter to take pity on a lame horse. Always loyal, always helping. Noble Max deserved better than a cold grave.

  Uktena reached for the fresh mound of earth. Old, forbidden power flowed from his talons.

  ~

  About the author

  Jim Stein’s hunger for stories transporting the reader to extraordinary realms began under one meager bulb, a towel stuffed beneath his door to avoid parental censure. He huddled with To
lkien, Asimov, and all the greats and unknowns plucked from the drugstore shelves to spin tales of the imagination. After writing short stories in school, two degrees in computer science, and several decades as a Naval officer, Jim has returned to his first passion. He writes speculative fiction advocating the underdog and embracing protagonists with strong moral fiber, often overlaid with supernatural elements and a few dark twists. Jim lives in northwestern Pennsylvania with his wife, Claudia, and his muse, Marley the Great Dane.

  Visit me at https://JimSteinBooks.com to see what’s happening and sign up for my monthly newsletter.

  I’d be eternally grateful if you’d share your opinion of Strange Omens or any other books on my author page at Amazon https://amazon.com/author/steinjim . Just click on the book you want to review, click on reviews, and select “write a review.” It only takes a minute and is so very helpful to new authors. -Jim

  Strange Medicine Excerpt

  Coming soon: Strange Medicine, the exciting conclusion of the Legends Walk saga

  T HE HILLSIDE across from the moldering loading dock shifted and shimmered as a living carpet of green flowed down the sand dune.

  “Here they come!” I looked over my shoulder to where my sister and Pete hustled the refugees onto an old school bus.

  “Everyone’s accounted for.” Pete gave me a thumbs up, but frowned at the oncoming horde. “We’re out of here. Don’t get stung. Okay?”

  “A little water will turn them around.” I waved away his concern, turned back as my smile slipped, and flipped on my equipment.

  Powerful bass guitar ripped from the speakers of my portable system. Keyboard and guitar joined as the opening lyrics brought back my smile.

  Ya wanna race meeeee,

  I wanna race youuuu,

  Fire them up, let them roll, there’s nothing more to do.