Fade (18 page)

“Not much more hollow than it is now,” she mused.

“What the hell are you doing, Cyn?” Joey’s voice called from across the way. “I don’t need the police up here because you’re playing vagrant. Go home, girl.”

He stood in his doorway, putting on a new shirt. She flipped him off and got up again.
Home
. Fuck if she knew where that was anymore.

***

Panic hit Jonas as he woke. He felt like someone was holding a pillow over his face. But the feeling of being smothered gave way to the knowledge that someone had stuffed cotton balls into his nose to stop the flow of blood that had bearded his face. He looked around the cell with a frown.

“You awake, Loco?” A broad-shouldered man asked. He was baby faced, his brow furrowed, one eyebrow arched. He wore a brown uniform with a shiny, golden star on his chest.

Jonas tried to speak, cleared his throat and said, “I need to leave.”

Officer Baby Face let loose one, hoarse laugh. “After a night for him at the ER, we’re finally talking to the man you beat the hell out of. You scared him something fierce. He’s not wanting to press charges. Saying he fell. You believe that crap?”

“He’s a piece of shit.” Jonas felt his face begin to burn.

Baby Face wagged his head. “Well, you sit tight. I’d like to see this piece of shit change his mind. He’s broke up pretty bad, and, to be honest, I just don’t like you. You got your bloody nose on my uniform.” With that, he turned to leave.

“Wait.”

The officer stopped, dropping his shoulders.

“Let me guh—” Jonas cried out in pain, his attempt at mentally influencing the officer a painful failure. He’d pushed himself too far these last few days. Fresh blood saturated the cotton balls, thick drops forming at their tips. He grabbed at his head, trying to get at the pain.

Baby Face shook his head again. “The hell’s wrong with you?” Even his loud sigh hurt Jonas’ head. “You need a damn doctor or something?”

Jonas shook his head in short, quick bursts, still holding it.

The officer wagged his own head for the last time and left. “Crazy bastards in this town,” he said, the door clanking shut behind him.

A pained scream from the front that sounded an awful lot like the Sack served to calm Jonas’ nerves a bit.

***

“Where the hell is everybody?” Angela sat on the floor. She hadn’t slept much.

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon. Probably out training or something.” Lucy cradled her knees, sitting with her back against the wall next to the kitchen door. “I’m sure it’s something like that.”

Angela buried her head in her knees. “I want to go home, Lucy.”

“You can’t, sweety. That’s why we’re doing this. So you guys can go home and live normal lives again.”

“What about you?” She lifted her eyes to Lucy.

Lucy shrugged without meeting those eyes. “I’m going to stay with Jonas. He’s my real dad. My other dad is evil.”

“Evil? Wow. That’s pretty harsh. Wait.
Jonas is your dad?
”

Lucy shrugged again, ignoring the last question. “My mom’s just as bad. She just let him get away with the stuff.”

A light went on in Angela’s head. “Oh.” She moved uncomfortably. “Sorry, girl.”

She spoke so low Angela almost couldn’t hear. “Thanks, I guess.”

Next came a loud, resounding jangle that reminded Angela of the sudden move of a belly dancer’s outfit. Both of them had stood at the noise of the chain link fence being torn through, their eyes latching onto one another’s. Angela stood, backing away while Lucy moved toward the door, already raising her hand for the handle as if it would meet her halfway.

“Lucy!” Angela said in a harsh whisper.

Lucy flapped her hand and kept moving forward. When the door exploded, its rocky frame absorbed most of the blast, but it was still enough to send Lucy soaring as if yanked by invisible hands. Angela saw a great chunk of the doorframe graze Lucy’s head. She hit the wall hard—hit the floor silent.

Angela screamed, hands at her face, shaking. The chalky smell of concrete filled the air, great plumes of its dust settling as someone stumbled into the room, as if pushed. Angela pointed her arms at him out of instinct, a thick snake of fire burping from her palm, grazing the figure.

Kah’en yelped in pain and laughter came from what had been the doorway. “Calm, girl. Hands down. There is no fight. Not for you.” A thick, hunched form barked at her through the dust. “Any who still are breathe,” his gravel voice raised, “do not bothering with your bravery if you want to breathe still.”

The dust cleared and Angela could see the…
thing
which had been speaking. He was enormous, bending low just to see inside. His face was short, angular and as black as night. Golden, hooded eyes glowed from underneath a heavy brow and they were stuck on her. Two others of similar appearance stood to each side of him.

“Four of you,” his teeth were the color of withering daffodils. “There are to be four of you, woman.” He showed those teeth at her silence. “Tell them to be coming out!”

She jumped, the words jarred from her. “They’re not here. We’re alone.” It felt like the worst thing in the world to admit. She looked across the room at Kah’en, hoping for some guidance, but he looked as defeated as she felt.

The creature turned toward someone outside she couldn’t see and began talking. Long, brown braids of thick, coarse hair fell over his shoulder. She could hear the guttural growl of words coming from outside, but what was said was kept from her. A wide, wicked smile turned back to her and gave her the gist of what the instruction had been. They would be an example. Jonas and Cynthia, wherever they had wandered off to, would return to find she and Lucy reconfigured into a suitably horrifying message; a promise even, that they would be next.

She began to cower, tears bulging in her eyes. Then she realized that she was able to defend herself. It was a frightening thought at first, but the matter was soon resolved as the three carbon-skinned monsters took a step toward her.
Screw that
, she thought, releasing everything she had at the three creatures. Their screams were brief.

As soon as the flames began, those standing behind the unfortunate Fade in the entrance backed away. Angela continued igniting the air around and in front of her until Kah’en, now behind her, begged her to stop.

“Your heat is killing me, and I would be thinking your friend too.” He yelled over the roar of the blasts and she stopped, twirling around to where Lucy lay, unable to tell if she were breathing through the smoke. “If she is not being dead already,” he said.

Angela looked at the opening they’d blasted in the front of the shelter, the ragged wall that remained a throbbing red now. Flames licked the area. She moved toward Lucy. Her breath caught in her throat as the girl became clearer. Where Lucy had landed moments earlier was a frail, tiny girl, brownish-blonde hair a mess over her thin face. Angela blinked.

“Is there any other way out?” Kah’en asked. “They will not stop.”

Angela looked at him for the first time, saw the patch of skin on his shoulder, red and gooey, blackened. Pieces of the garment he wore were cooked into the page-sized wound. “I hurt you.”

“I will live. I am Kah’en. Where is Jonas?”

She shrugged, still stunned.

The yelling outside seemed louder now. The heat lessened.

“We need to get out!” He grabbed her shoulder with his good arm and rattled her.

Another explosion sent them both looking for cover. But it wasn’t an explosion. It was another of the creatures they’d fought earlier. Jonas had called them Golem. It pushed through a standing section of the wall, which barely held the shivering ceiling up, and through the flames. There, it stood. Great white boils from the heat, which blackened as they watched, covered its fat hands, arms and chest. It winced, jerking at the pain, but its bulging eyes were fixed on them. It made no advance. Another figure, larger, stepped behind it, as far as he could in the heat.

He was at least ten feet tall, and clearly their leader. His eyes were a fearsome red, long grayish dreadlocks hung down the back of his head. His squarish face reminded her of a bulldog. A bulldog ready to bite. He looked at Kah’en. “Three of us now, traitor. Three of the few left faithful to Mira, our Queen, are dead because of you and your alliance. This is enough.” Angela had the odd thought that she was glad his English was better than the others. Then the Golem moved to its right, and she saw the giant’s hand go to his side, lifting the scepter there. Kah’en opened his mouth to protest, but an intense, focused blast of light emerged from its round end, striking him. He was gone in an instant, leaving only the faint scent of ozone to hint that he’d been standing next to Angela.

The giant’s red eyes went to Angela next. “He was the traitor, but you were the tool of my people’s death, human. I have no use for you.”

Angela started to run, but she already felt the blast pushing her backward. For a moment, she felt like she was being pulled apart.

***

Lucy’s step-father officially dropped the charges before wailing in pain as he tried to force himself not to confess to his crimes against Lucy. The officer soon came to let Jonas go, muttering wonder all the while. When Jonas stepped outside, the sun stung his eyes like salt water. His head pounded. He almost went back in to ask the officer where his car was before he realized it must have been impounded. He cursed.

“Guy can’t shut up.”

Jonas whirled. The officer stood behind him, looking penitent.

“You were right about the piece-of-shit thing. My world, they’d give you a parade.”

Jonas’ head dropped and he shrugged. All he’d done is managed to leave the girls alone.

“I’m off for the day. You know, if you need a ride to your car.”

After another hour, he had the rental towed to a shop, the tire replaced and was on his way back to what he was calling home these days. He tried to keep the thoughts concerning how worried the girls must be away. They must be imagining the worst at his absence. What would they do? He had been a fool to act so rash. Jonas slammed his fist against the steering wheel, jumping when the horn bleated.

The drive seemed endless. There was a spike right down the center of his brain. Even his teeth ached. The world was in danger and he wasted himself on some overweight half-wit. No. No, that overweight half-wit had raped and molested his daughter. He deserved everything he got. Yes, it was stupid to be so impulsive, but he wouldn’t let himself have regrets about his actions. No regrets, unless he couldn’t help her in the future because he was running on fumes. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. This was when he first noticed the Fade warrior on the side of the road. His eyes widened as the tall patch of night stepped out and held up a hand. He slowed, but his fingers tightened on the wheel.

He stopped the car a hundred yards or so from the Fade and got out. “Why are you here?” He sneered, his words fire.

“I am of Kah’en’s rebellion, human. I have news you need to listen for.”

Jonas relaxed, but only a little.

“Aern began tracking your people. There is a traitor who revealed a plan…” He shook his head, frustrated with the language and having to correct himself. “Revealed
our
plan to Aern. You are in a danger.”

“Where are they now?”

The warrior went on, telling Jonas where the Fade had set up their camp and that he was not sure if Aern had already left to come after him and his girls.

“Kah’en is dead then?” He was already getting back into his car, thinking of the shelter, the girls.

The messenger shrugged and winced at the idea. It was the closest thing to compassion Jonas had ever seen from a Fade. But, he imagined, it was more sorrow that their plan was falling apart instead of care for a comrade-in-arms.

The messenger was gone when Jonas looked up from the wheel again. Tires spun as he raced to the girls, praying that they were still alive. It was just a few minutes before the wisps of smoke curling up over the horizon caught his attention. Yes, it was clear that Aern had already left. Jonas’ heart was a lead weight in his chest. He thought he might vomit as he pressed his foot as hard as he could onto the gas pedal. His skin buzzed and then numbed as he drew closer.

When he screeched to a sideways halt at the shelter, he thought for a moment that the small rental car might turn over. The shelter was an open, bleeding wound. He pushed the car’s door open and fell out, scrambling toward it. The smell of smoke, thick and foreboding, floated through the air.

He was almost to the shelter—cracked like an egg, the roof a ramp now, rising up from the living room—when he saw Cynthia. She was on her knees, appearing from the smoke like some supernatural being, wailing into her hands, her back jumping with each sob.

He felt a cool tickle of blood run down his upper lip as he opened his mouth to say her name; the metallic tang as it rolled into his mouth. A hard consonant caught in his throat, everything around him went somewhere far away. He felt his body hit the ground for the second time that day.

FIFTEEN

T
he ground was dry and cracked and turned up at its edges like thin bits of old parchment. It was smooth against the heels of her palms as Angela pushed against it to stand, painting them in chalky dust. The sun was on top of her, singeing her skin even through her clothes and thick, red hair. She spotted Kah’en lying off to one side, passed out, but moaning and writhing in his unconsciousness. Everything was blurry and uneven, but she managed to stand. She coughed and stared, jaw down at the vast expanse of brown nothing. Rubbing her hands on her jeans, Angela took a first tremulous step toward Kah’en.

They had fallen. Wherever they were now, they had simply appeared in the sky and fallen. She’d been lucky, close to the ground, but it looked like her companion had been unlucky. He lay amidst a bed of rocks, his face swollen and bruised. One eye almost closed up. A ragged hole in his side spit out small eruptions of blood every few seconds. She had meant to help him, but as she came to herself she realized she had no idea what to do.