Holy Sheoly

by Hunter Blain

  The man in black turned down a road that headed toward the highway, and I let out a, “Hmph,” before turning and walking into the saloon.

  Val was sitting at a table, resting one forearm on the table in front of him. His fingers seemed to be picking at a splinter, or maybe something that wasn’t really there.

  “Hey, Val. Who was that guy?” I greeted while thumbing over my shoulder.

  “His name’s Lane. Lane Hamilton. An’ that’s all I really know,” he said without taking his eyes off the table. There was something in his voice, something that was draining him.

  “What was in the box?” I asked before mentally palming myself on the forehead for not making an obvious Se7en joke. Was it too late? Yeah, it probably was. Damn!

  Val pulled his hand back to fall into his lap as he repositioned himself in his seat and looked at me.

  “What can I do ya fer, John?” His voice suggested that Lane Hamilton was none of my concern. And truthfully, I couldn’t care less at that moment. I had my own shit to fry. Wait! My own fish to...piece of pie. You get the point.

  “I need a drink, man. Somethin’ strong.”

  “Hmph,” Val responded, nodding his head as if he’d expected as much.

  He stood up and made his way behind the bar, glancing at the clock on the wall as he did before halting in place.

  Looking at me, he arched an eyebrow and tilted his head in question.

  With a mental command, the armor shimmered to life and I proudly announced, “Got my armor back. Apparently it helps to, like, keep me from conflagrating while in the sun.”

  “Hmph,” Val said again, but this time in an almost pleasant, surprised tone. He continued walking behind the bar to grab me a whiskey glass as I took a seat and willed the armor away. “Glad ta hear it. Guess that means I can forgive Joey, tha lil’ shit.”

  On its own volition, my head slammed to the bar, and I let out a long moan of incredulous frustration. Then I pictured how that must look to Val, especially considering the information I was about to drop on him, and felt immediately like the world’s biggest shithead.

  Lifting my head, I set my elbows on the bar and rested my face in my hands as I softly drawled, “He didn’t make it, man.”

  The sound of rustling movement ceased in an instant, and I moved my fingers out of the way to stare into the eyes of a very hurt Val.

  After a moment, he lowered his head, closed his eyes, and rubbed at the back of his neck as if it had already been a really, really long day.

  “What happened?” he asked softly.

  “The team went in to get the nail and armor back while I stayed behind.” Val slid an almost full glass over to me of my enchanted Jack and Blood. I wanted to ask him about the Jagerblood, but decided against it at the moment. I took a big sip and started speaking before I finished swallowing, “See, we figured that if they went during the day, Ulric would be asleep. But apparently, because he’s the freakin’ Grand Master Warlock, Vamlock, whatever...he can be awake during the day.”

  “They walked into a trap,” Val finished for me.

  “Right, but with this nifty watch that SAC Baker gave me, I transported my butt to try and help.”

  “Boy, that has ta be tha dumbest thing I’ve ever heard ya do. An’ I’ve heard a lot.”

  I took another swig.

  “Oh, it was, because I almost teleported directly into the sunlight. I would have been pret-ty embarrassed had I inadvertently caused the gates to open by not paying attention.”

  “No offense, but that sounds exactly like how you’d do it.”

  I stared at him in frozen silence before returning to my animated state and admitting, “Yowr pwobabwy wight.” I wasn’t sure why I’d enunciated like a toddler, but I also didn’t care.

  “Are you going to continue?”

  “Huh? Oh, right,” I said with a light chuckle while gently smacking myself upside the head and making an “I’m adorably forgetful” face. “Ulric and his team of warlocks took everyone out pretty easily. Except Magni and Ludvig, that is. Those badasses sprung their own trap, pretending to be the bad guys. But...” My mind flashed to a hand exploding from my friend’s chest, holding a heart that tried desperately to continue its one, critical, function. My voice grew cold. “But Joey died. Ulric almost got—”

  “I’m scared.”

  “HUH!” I cried out, falling backward out of my seat and landing on my back. My drink splashed all over my face, and I urgently wiped my eyes clean while frantically looking around. “Who said that!”

  “There’s no one here, boy!” Val said, rushing from around the bar to help me up. Once I was back on my feet, Val reached over the bar and grabbed a clean rag so I could wipe my face and beard.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said as I began walking to the bathroom. Val probably thought I was just washing the drink from my face, but I needed to be alone for a moment.

  Closing the bathroom door, I stomped to the single sink and grabbed the white porcelain as I stared into the mirror. Tired purple eyes stared back at me, with blood dripping into my beard. I groaned when I saw my beanie had some splashes as well.

  Taking off my head gear, I quickly rinsed it off, taking note of how quickly it became clean again. I brought it closer to my eyes and made an impressed face before stuffing it in my pocket as I leaned down and brought my hands to the running water. I splashed my face and let my beard run under the faucet until the red stopped disappearing down the drain.

  While trying to keep my face positioned over the sink as it dripped, I reached for the paper towel dispenser and smacked its sides and front until I angrily scowled at it and saw the motion sensor directions.

  With a moan of frustration, I waved a hand under the black box, and white paper came spewing out at a slow speed. Already short on patience, I tore the paper towel free before it finished, and I wound up with a much smaller piece in my hands than what I could have had if only I had waited a few seconds longer.

  I defiantly dabbed at my face before wadding up the soaked paper and throwing it to the trash, missing it entirely.

  With another bark of frustration, I stepped to where it had fallen, bent down to retrieve the rogue paper, then slammed it into the trash can as if I were an NBA player making a slam dunk.

  Returning to the sink, I saw my face was still mostly wet, and I shifted my eyes to scowl at the black box on the wall that promised it had the ability to best me in battle all day.

  Being me, I yanked up my black shirt and rubbed my face until it was dry before I remembered the snot shroud I had created earlier.

  “Heh. Hehehehe. Oh man,” I laughed at myself as the frustration morphed and mutated into delirious mirth. “That’s funny right there, I don’t care who you are.”

  Glancing once more into the mirror, I cleared my mind of the scene back at the house in the woods and pulled my beanie from my pocket, placing it back atop my head while swiping my hair behind my ears.

  I took in a deep breath, gave myself a nod signaling that we were okay, then opened the bathroom door.

  I froze in the doorway, and without looking, a hand swiped at the black box on the wall, sending it clattering to the trash can below.

  Returning to my seat, I saw Val had already cleaned up my mess and had gone back behind the bar, and was now eyeing me suspiciously.

  “What was that loud noise?” he asked, gesturing to the bathroom with his chin.

  “Hmm? Oh, nothing. Had Taco Bell for lunch. OH! Your paper towel thingy is broken. I didn’t see what happened.”

  “I’m addin’ it to yer tab.”

  “Worth it.”

  Val poured me another drink and I nursed it while keeping my eyes mostly closed, living in the moment with a clear mind.

  “How’s everyone else?” Val asked, breaking the silence after a while. I wanted to get mad at him for breaking my peaceful nothingness, but he had a right to know.

  “Uuuuum. We all got our asses handed to us, especially Hayley and
Locke. Hayley’s a warden I’ve been paired with if I hadn’t already told ya. She’s, ah, hurt kinda bad, and we don’t know exactly why. Locke will get better, I think. It just looks like he took some hardcore warlock lightning a couple times too many, and he’s not as strong as he used to be. Ludvig and Magni are good. And Depweg...” I took a big pull of my drink, wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand while setting the glass back down, and stared at nothing on the mirror that lined the wall. “Depweg is about as bad as you’d expect.”

  “Packs are stronger than even blood family,” Val said with a nod, looking down as he thought. He lifted his gaze to me again and asked, “What are ya gonna do with ’em?”

  “Welp,” I said in an exhale, “Taylor has agreed to take him to Faerie so he can get some much-needed R&R. I think they can help him with his new were form too.”

  Though I was staring with unfocused eyes at the wall, I saw a piece of Val’s face move, so I turned to see an eyebrow go up in question.

  “Oh, right. He, ah, has like, a freaking huge and scary werewolf form now. Dude’s like, twelve feet tall now...and can freaking talk!”

  “And he has control while in this form?”

  “Ye-up,” I answered, breaking the affirmation up into two syllables as I brought the drink to my lips for another blissful tug.

  “What’s tha plan now?”

  I was tired enough of talking that I let the P word slide.

  “I don’t wanna chit chat anymore, Val. Just let me enjoy my drink, would ya? I kinda like my mind being clear.”

  Val nodded slowly before he carried on with his tasks as if I wasn’t there, giving me the quiet that I so desperately desired.

  I sipped my drink in peace, letting the light euphoria slide over me as inebriation bloomed at the center of my skull. I eventually let out a long breath, willing my stress to flee with the action, before finishing my drink in a final gulp.

  “Thanks, man. I’m gonna head out,” I called to Val, who was in the bathroom with his tools. He had propped open the door and was now leaning his head out to regard me.

  “Don’t do anythin’ foolish, ya hear?”

  I raised a hand and waggled it back and forth a few times before letting it drop and pushing through the door.

  5

  Though my mind was doing its best to remain empty and pretend everything was A-OK, my heart wasn’t fooled by such blessed illusions, and instead, was in an ocean of sorrow, gasping for breath with weights tied around its ankles. I needed a boost in morale. It was time to follow through with my plan, which I felt was of vast importance. It had to be if I was going to delay even for one second getting to my friends in the Below. I just didn’t know exactly how I would do it.

  I walked the rest of the way to the cemetery, just as an excuse to once again let my emotional state be swallowed by the forgiving enchanted alcohol I had imbibed. The food trucks were gone, and I briefly wondered how long I had been chatting with my friends. I could have looked at my watch, but it didn’t bother me enough to have to know. Instead, I just let the slight inebriation grow over my body like a rampant weed in a junkyard oddly placed out in the middle of the country.

  It didn’t take long before I was standing in the cemetery parking lot. A part of me wanted to go downstairs, but knowing no one else was home, it felt weird to me. It was almost as if the empty house reminded me of how bad things were right now.

  I did a mental double check and crossed all the names off the list, except...

  “Magni,” I said as I debated on going downstairs and chatting with the young man. The prophecy books mentioned that I would become a father figure to him after Ludvig, which suggested some sort of power struggle between me and the Swede for the kid’s affection.

  “Unless Lude dies...”

  I shook my head, hard, to clear the thoughts, reminding myself that the books had been planted by Satan to throw me off my game.

  Setting my jaw, I turned away from my home and debated on a way to get downtown.

  Seeing as how flying was out of the question during broad daylight, I decided to take an Uber rather than risk smashing into other cars while running at ludicrous speeds.

  Pulling up my phone, I selected the app, put in my destination, and was immediately pleased to see the driver that had responded was only a few minutes away from the cemetery.

  “Abu,” I read aloud, looking at the name of my driver. “Don’t make an Aladdin joke. Do not make an Aladdin joke,” I repeated to myself just under my breath as the black Nissan pulled down the street, stopping just at the entrance to the cemetery. He had Uber and Lyft stickers on his windshield.

  “Don’t make an Aladdin joke,” I said one more time as I climbed into the back seat. “Hey Abu, how’s Aladdin?”

  Lilith damn it! I couldn’t even wait two seconds.

  Abu looked down at his phone, saw that I had five stars next to my name, and decided to swallow his pride and play along.

  “He’s good. Divorced from the princess,” he answered with perfect English, indicating he was more than likely born in the states.

  “Yeah, times are tough,” I said, turning to look out the window as the cemetery gates moved past us.

  “Children’s hospital, huh? Hope, ah, everything’s okay,” Abu stated awkwardly as he glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

  “Yeah, just wanted to try and do some good.”

  “Can I, um, ask why you were at the cemetery?”

  The pieces clicked in my head at how odd it was that I was being picked up at a graveyard and then heading toward a children’s hospital. I decided a little humor wouldn’t hurt.

  “Like I said, times are tough. I own the cemetery and need to ensure business stays steady. What better place than a kid’s hospital?”

  Abu’s eyes flicked again to the mirror with a look of horror before looking down at his phone where my name still had the stars indicating I was a good tipper. I could almost hear the internal debate in his head.

  “I’m kidding, man. I mean, I do own the cemetery, but I’m trying to balance the scales of my soul and do some good.”

  Abu looked at me in silence as he meditated on what I’d said. Heck, even I had to think about it, as I hadn’t meant to expose my subconscious desires.

  “You some sort of philanthropist or something?” he asked as we pulled onto a highway and picked up speed.

  “I try to be,” I answered as I stared in awe at the sheer number of cars on the road. “Hey, are all these electric?”

  “Seriously?” Abu asked, physically turning his head to look at my face in an effort to see if I was joking or not.

  “I was...out of town for, like, thirteen years.”

  Abu turned back around, accepting my answer without further question, and answered, “Most are, yeah. President Johnson got with the world leaders and basically outlawed fossil fuels.”

  “President...Johnson?”

  “Yeah, you know, like The Rock.”

  I barked out a quick laugh as I leaned forward with a gaping mouth.

  “The Rock is president? Seriously? How did I not know this?”

  Mortal affairs are of no importance to an immortal, Baleius added.

  Come on, man! The Rock?! That’s kinda awesome.

  “Yeah. President Johnson worked with Elon Musk to develop new technologies for the world. Tesla even opened some of their patents to other car manufacturers.”

  “Bless that Mr. Musk,” I exhaled as I leaned back in my seat and stared out the window with a new appreciation. Most of the cars that drove by had the T insignia after the model of the vehicle, indicating the Tesla technology.

  I absentmindedly raised my hand to rest against my side window, feeling the warmth of the day transferring into my palm. The corners of my mouth lifted in a half smile at getting to enjoy the sunlight, while another part of me understood the reason why the armor was necessary. At least with Baleius on my side, I wouldn’t need to worry about giving it up again. Da’s armor was mi
ne forever now.

  Without telling it to do so, the chest piece manifested over me, and I glanced down at the cross made of Da’s ashes and blood. Removing my hand from the window, I let my finger graze over the mark in reverence to my mentor, who had sacrificed everything for me.

  “Whoa!” Abu cried out, turning most of his upper body around to look at my armor, almost making us drift into another lane.

  My eyes went wide as the armor disappeared at my command.

  “H-how the—”

  “Hologram,” I answered quickly, hoping my Uber driver wouldn’t tell anyone about the cemetery owner who could manifest an ivory armor at will.

  “Hologram? Really?”

  I brought my hand up and pretend to push some buttons while willing my entire armor set to slowly shimmer into view.

  “See?” I asked, making the armor disappear and then reappear while pretending to press buttons.

  “Dude, that’s neat!” Abu exclaimed.

  “Neat?” I asked slowly as the armor faded.

  “Oh, right. Forgot you’ve been gone fourteen years.”

  “Thirteen,” I corrected.

  “Right, thirteen. The kids say ‘neat’ now,” Abu informed me.

  Damn it! That was my thing.

  “I mean, that’s not really a new thing though,” I said lamely, trying to downplay the unreasonable feeling of being robbed.

  After several minutes, we pulled into the medical district of Houston just off Holcombe Boulevard. There was just so much traffic!

  “Thanks, Abu. And remember, you can’t tell anyone about the hologram. Secret technology!” I instructed as I tipped a hundred bucks on the app.

  Looking at his phone notification, he turned to me and exclaimed, “No problem, man! Anytime! And here,” he said as he passed me a business card. “In case you ever need a personal driver or anything. Uber takes a lot of our cut, and I’m looking to start my own business.”

  “Neat,” I said as I pocketed the card.

  “Now you’re getting it!” he congratulated me as I shut the door with a scowl.

  My eyes crept up the building that was a children’s hospital, where hope and despair coincided with the flip of a coin. Anguish that not even I could fathom watched from the shadows, just waiting to reach out with its skeletal hand and run a cold finger over quivering skin, shuttling the innocent from the world. I was here to balance the scales of the life I had taken.