by Danny Bell
“Well, everyone’s on their way to the shop, but things’re crazy. Have you been on Twitter?”
“Nearly five times this year.” I deadpanned, unhooking a cart as I pinched the phone between my ear and my shoulder.
“Well, the world’s already getting suspicious. This cloud covers all of Los Angeles County and not much else,” she continued. “Good news from our friends at the Weather Channel is that it’s not a hurricane, and there seems to be no wind or anything like that. It’s just gathering rain. Still, not a drop has come down, and people are already talking about evacuating, but nothing mandatory.”
“Fascinating stuff, but I always lose reception in the store,” I said, standing in front of the entrance to the annoyance of everyone who needed to walk around me. “Still want to meet up?”
“I’m for sure looking forward to hearing about last night, so yeah.”
“Great, I’ll text you an address, see you in a bit,” I said hanging up, then turning to the middle-aged woman who scraped her cart against mine, muscling her way past me, I added, “Dude, really?”
I fished the business card out of my pocket and found the address, groaning as I did. The gravel and sand spot was in Azusa. Not exactly close, but I didn’t know of anywhere in the immediate area that had large quantities of what I needed and would be willing to fill fifty bags worth of it for me. With as many pits and open land out that way, it made sense, not that I was happy about it. At least it was still early enough in the day that I could avoid the traditional traffic and, I knew for a fact, the first drops of rain wouldn’t fall for a good twelve hours, maybe a bit more if I was lucky. I sent Olivia the address and was immediately met with an emoji of two eyes wide with shock. I chose not to respond to that and got on with the shopping.
I managed to fill my cart with three cases of water, about forty cans of pasta and chili, most of the bananas that were on display, and significantly fewer apples than bananas. My options weren’t much for variety, but I didn’t have time to shop for everyone individually. There were snacks in the shop if anyone wanted a change of pace.
It took me nearly an hour to get from the store to Azusa, but I knew from experience that, in rush hour, it could’ve been double that or more. Traffic wasn’t horrible getting there, but it wouldn’t be great going back. This whole side of town sucks, and I held the firm opinion that if it wasn’t Ren Faire, there wasn’t a good reason to ever travel anywhere near the 210. It wasn’t just the lack of proximity to everything else. Something about being that close to the mountains, maybe something about the Sierra Madre community in general, felt suffocating and oppressive. Whenever I was here, I felt like a mouse in a maze that had taken a turn into a dead end.
The address led me up a dirt road to a trailer and a single-story warehouse that didn’t look one hundred percent constructed. Past the trailer, in the distance, was a larger building that could’ve been a factory of some sort, that similarly looked to be in a state of near completion, a small bay of trailers, and a porta-potty. No cars, that I could see, and I had no idea where the gravel and sand would’ve been packed.
I was sorely tempted to commit arson if I’d been taken to Azusa, of all goddamn places, at a time like this, for absolutely no reason, but rational thought prevailed, and I decided to allow my new friend the chance to explain himself.
“Yellow?” the friendly voice said from the other end of the line. That wasn’t a combination of words, he seemed to be asking about the color.
“Hey, uh, I met you at the Home Depot earlier?” I asked hesitantly. “I made it here, but I don’t see anyone.”
“Hey, hey, so sorry. I’m on a job out this way. Think you went to the office, the pit is in Irwindale, just up the road. Why you don’t call?”
I didn’t have a good answer for his question that wouldn’t be at least mildly confrontational, so I instead opted for a weak apology. “Sorry about that, what’s the address for the pit?”
“I’ll text you, it’s real close,” he replied. “Tell them Manny said to give you the pretty girl discount. My boys will hook you up.”
“I’m probably not doing that, Manny.” I scoffed before I could help myself.
“It’s a good discount,” he offered, seemingly oblivious to my distaste at his comment. “Gotta go.”
The address came through a moment later and it was a straight shot down the road, about five minutes away. I made a mental note of the cross streets, plugged my phone back into the portable charger and shoved it into my bag, intent on wasting as little time out here as possible. I got the van turned around and, when I approached the second location, it made a lot more sense. It wasn’t a massive operation, as far as gravel pits went, but there was a pile of pebbles about twenty-feet high, a hole in the ground, and a bunch of machinery. A rough-looking man in a dirty t-shirt, seemingly unconcerned with the cold or the gathering storm, waved at me as I drove in.
“Here for the gravel?” he asked with a smile as I got out of the van.
I considered the posted rates hung up near the entrance and, after doing some quick math in my head, ten bucks over fifty bags wasn’t cheap. I decided to try my luck. “Yeah, Manny said there was, uh, a discount,” I hedged.
“Let me guess, the pretty girl discount?”
I nodded uncomfortably, and the man grinned.
“You’re not the first, sorry about that.”
“Yeah, well, now it’s uncomfortable for the both of us.” I shrugged.
The man gave me a surprisingly rueful laugh. “Well, it’s a slow day. The quicker we take care of you, the sooner we can forget about it. You got bags?”
“A pack of fifty,” I said, motioning to the back of the van.
We pulled them out, and the man nodded his approval. “You got the right ones. These are easy, they hook up to the machine. Want to take a look?”
I didn’t have any particular interest in watching bags getting filled with rocks, but I didn’t see that I had any choice. “Sure.”
The man gave me an enthusiastic pat on the back that I wasn’t expecting, and I swallowed hard. “Ha! Just messing with you, Diego and I got this. What’s your name?”
“Uh, Elana,” I replied, still off guard from the pat.
“Ray,” he said, offering me a handshake that I instinctively turned into an awkward fist bump. He politely ignored the fumbled hand-based greeting and continued, “You ever been to Farmer Boys?”
“Yeah?” I answered awkwardly. It was a chain, anyone who liked burgers around here had to have been at least once.
“Tell you what—you get Diego and I lunch, and I’ll have these bags filled by the time you get back. I’ll pretend you never made it here. It can be the Manny’s-a-punk-who-doesn’t-pay-us-enough discount.”
“Wow. Yeah, totally, that’d be rad.” I was taken aback by the generosity, but I wasn’t going to question it. “Are you sure?”
Okay, I guess I was going to question it.
“No problem, this is a small load. He’s not going to miss it. Diego! Farmer Boys!” Ray called out.
“Bacon Boy and Dr. Pepper!” Diego shouted back. I suddenly had the feeling that this wasn’t the first time they bartered for a free lunch.
Ray grinned and turned to me. “Double cheese for me, make ’em both Dr. Pepper, and don’t forget the fries.”
I confirmed the order and left before Ray could change his mind. The Farmer Boys wasn’t too far away, but trying to navigate a van through the narrow drive-thru at lunch hour wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had. Still, Ray and Diego were as good as their word and even loaded the back of the van for me when I returned with their food. A buzzing was coming from my book bag as I got into the driver’s seat, and I had just remembered in the middle of all of this that Olivia was supposed to join me.
“Hey, yeah, sorry, I forgot to send you the right—”
“Elana! Where are you?” Olivia cut me off in a hushed whisper that gave me a sudden chill.
“Like five minute
s away from that address I gave you, what’s up?”
“I went looking in the back building,” she said almost too low for me to hear. “I need you here right now. There’s something in here with me.”
Chapter Eleven
My foot slammed the gas pedal at her words, and I nearly lost control of the van as the tires slipped on loose gravel and dirt. I was dimly aware of angry shouts that I dismissed as I thumbed the speakerphone button and tossed the phone onto the dashboard.
“Stay on the line, and tell me where you are,” I insisted. Then, having a second thought, added, “At the site, specifically.”
“The big building at the back of the lot, north left corner. I can see the exit, but I think it’s waiting for me to move!”
I blew through a red light, blaring my horn as I did. God, it was dark outside. “Keep your back against a wall if you can, just hold on a minute or two more. I’m coming!”
The van bounced wildly as I turned down the small road a minute later, brakes squealing to a halt as I stopped directly in front of an open loading zone not far from the hideous neon blue open-top Jeep Wrangler I recognized as Olivia’s recent purchase. I pulled my rod from my bag—not taking the time to sling the bookbag across my chest—and readied a spell in my mind as I dashed into the darkened room.
“Lustre!” I shouted as I thrust the rod over my head. I wanted the spell to work with my entire being; the magic flowed through me smoothly and condensed on the tip of the rod, the incantation worked magnificently. Every shadow disintegrated throughout the nearly empty shell of the factory, which was in the process of being built. The bare boned walls were bathed in brilliant white light, almost as though I’d turned on the sun.
Among the crates and a handful of abandoned machines still covered in dust-caked plastic wrap, I caught a glimpse of something humanoid and naked, though definitely not human, for only the briefest of moments before three quick explosions echoed off the walls and the creature shrieked in pain and fled at inhuman speeds. That was gunfire! My concentration on the spell wavered and the light left the tip of the rod, plunging the warehouse back into darkness, save for the barest of light from the entrance.
“Go!” I wailed, and through the phantom shapes that came with the sudden absence of light, I could see my friend running towards me and heard Olivia’s feet slapping against concrete. I turned and ran with her, focused on the van as my finish line. We made it outside, frantically out of breath, looking back at the entrance like it was a Hellmouth.
It was several long, labored breaths before I realized how tightly Olivia was gripping my arm.
“Are we clear?” It came out of her asthmatically.
Yeah, now who needs to work out? It was a sour, ill-timed thought that I didn’t really mean, and it made me chuckle uncomfortably. Olivia gave me the smallest hint of a sidelong glance before I straightened my posture and answered.
“Yeah, I think so,” I panted, my brain trying to put the pieces together of what I just saw. “You might have stumbled onto something’s lair, maybe the darkness made it bold. I don’t know, but I think we ruined the game for it.”
“Shit. Jesus. Shit!” she swore, the nerves catching up with her. I got a full view of the gun in her hand just then. I felt uneasy being around it. I wished it would evaporate under my gaze.
“Are we going to talk about that?” I asked with more heat than I intended.
Olivia looked as if she had forgotten she was holding the little revolver and made an apologetic sound as she switched on the safety and tucked it away into the small backpack she’d been wearing. I didn’t know enough about guns to know what kind she had, but if it were a soda size, I would’ve called it a free water cup.
“You know I don’t like guns,” I pressed when she didn’t respond.
“Well, I don’t like feeling like I might get my stomach ripped out every time I step outside by myself, life’s funny like that,” she countered.
“We have magic!” I said, nearly shouting. “We don’t need—”
“Exactly right, Elana, we can set someone on fire by willing the universe to do so,” Olivia snapped, turning on me. “So, what’s the difference?”
The sudden severity of her response tripped me up, and I didn’t know what to say. “How long have you even had it? Where did you get it?” Conviction-less questions was where I landed.
“Is this really where you want to have this conversation?”
Olivia’s question brought me back down to earth, and I became aware of how tightly I’d been gripping the rod in my fist and how tense the muscles felt in my neck. I let the cold air hit me, then take some of the heat out that had been building in my chest. The rod fell out of my hand and to the ground as I pulled a startled Olivia into a hug. “Thank god you’re okay,” I choked out.
Olivia needed a moment to catch up, but she returned the hug after a moment. We stood there for a few seconds more before I released my grip and smoothed my coat. “I’m sorry. I was just afraid, and… I’m sorry.”
The tension seemed to ease from my friend’s face, as well, neither of us knowing quite what to say. “We’re okay,” she said finally. “Teamwork, right?”
I laughed uncomfortably at that. “Makes the dream work.”
Olivia rubbed my arm just below the shoulder comfortingly. “Let’s get back to the others,” she suggested. It was a good idea.
* * *
I called Claire from the road and let her know that I was on my way, but I cut the call short. What just happened with Olivia rattled me at a bad time. A friend in danger is always going to be a concern, to put it lightly, but for as much as I’d started to become desensitized to the weird and evil popping up in my own life, I didn’t know how anyone could ever be expected to be calm when their loved ones were threatened.
Olivia gave me a lot to chew on. She was far from helpless, I knew that deep down. These days, Olivia’s spells were the evocation equivalent of hearing the Guts theme after a drunken break up. She hits hard is my point, and when she let loose, I couldn’t even pretend to compare. She lacked a lot of practical experience, though, and I knew that was my fault. I’ve made every effort to keep her out of harm’s way. Maybe that’s why she went out and got a gun.
That one gave me shivers. I’ve always hated guns. They are tools of the stupid and their use can be just so…final. I’m a hypocrite. I’ve enjoyed my share of comics and TV shows with gunplay, anything from Firefly to One Shot Juanita. Before this life, that was just fiction and, even when I discovered my powers and what they meant, it was a different world. Different rules. Yet, they weren’t going away anytime soon in my world. If someone wanted someone else hurt, the quickest and easiest way to do that was to pick up a gun. My stance against them wasn’t going to change that. Now, the closest person in the world to me not only carried one but hid it from me. To make things worse, I had to find out, today of all days, that she had one when she shot who the hell knows what that thing was. I didn’t know how to process that.
I hated guns, but I loved Olivia and, for now, that meant I trusted her to not accidentally shoot me. At least until the city was safe, right? One problem at a time.
I got the van pulled up behind the shop and was relieved to be home, at least for the moment. For their part, everyone worked together to unload the van and set up the sandbags without an explanation, something I was grateful for. Claire had closed for the day, which made things a bit easier. Everyone was obviously eager for answers, but I asked for a few minutes to myself before I got into it. These are my friends, but that didn’t wipe out the difficulty I had in addressing them with bad news or even good news, for that matter. All I needed was a moment, and I’d be ready.
I made the climb into my loft space and removed my coat, tossing it onto my bed and feeling lighter almost instantly. I stretched and felt the tightness in my back as muscles gratefully strained. I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation ahead or what it meant for everyone if they had heard, but I had
a workaround for this, a way to gain clarity. That was to occupy all five of my senses, getting me to a place where I had no room in my mind for anything but the present. It wasn’t perfect and it didn’t always last, but it was something.
The trunk at the foot of my bed had some of the things I’d need. I found a small bag of chocolate-covered acai berries I’d been snacking on, an old favorite of mine, and placed one of them on my tongue without chewing it. Then I sprayed a generous amount of air freshener high over my bed, enough that it was visible, and grabbed a small sheet of bubble wrap before sitting on the edge of my bed.
I tasted the melting chocolate and sharp tartness of the berry in my mouth. I smelled the artificial clean linen smell, even as the excess mist tickled my nostrils. I listened to the crinkle and pops of the sheet and felt the plastic on my fingertips as bits of air escaped in tiny bursts. I watched as my friends below tried to busy themselves uncomfortably on their phones as they waited for me, making small talk with each other.
I chose poorly with my last sense, but it didn’t make my goal impossible. I still got where I needed to be once I took in every sense equally, it just took me a moment longer than usual. But I was there. I shut my eyes for a couple of seconds to recenter myself and hold the memory, creating this moment in my mind. When I opened my eyes again, I was calm and ready.
Everyone was gathered and waiting for me to say something when I came back down, and it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. In the past couple of years, everyone in this room had seen things they shouldn’t have ever have had to, and I didn’t usually call everyone together for no reason. Besides, my friends were smart. Apocalyptic clouds covering the entire county in the middle of July and I pulled them together into the shop almost immediately? They knew something was up.
“I’m relieved to know that everyone is here,” I said slowly and sincerely.
“Elana, what’s going on?” Teague asked with something between worry and impatience in her voice.
“I’m going to get to that. I’m not going to keep anything from you, but I’m not going to drop all of this on you if you don’t want to know. If I tell you, that’s it, I can’t take it back. If you know, you’re in danger. So, this is your chance to, I guess, not know.”
