Harbinger (The Bleeding Worlds) (6 page)

“Again, I’m sorry Doctor Saduj.” Pridament said. He left the room, hesitating to give Gwynn a final wave before leaving.

“Well,” Doctor Saduj sounded flustered, “I’m glad to see you’re awake Mr. Dormath. Let’s do a few tests and see how you truly are.”

§

Several hours later,
Doctor Saduj paced his office.

This assignment made him very uncomfortable. He had grown accustomed to inactive duty. Now, powerful eyes had focused on him.

He went to check his watch and, much to his dismay, found his hand trembling. How long had it been since he called? They had told him the man who called himself Pridament might visit the boy. Now that it had happened, Doctor Saduj had to admit that he never believed it would. They didn’t tell him much, his role minor in the grand scheme. But the tones used to discuss Pridament were akin to the reverence saved for the Bogeyman.

A knock at the door.

Saduj opened it a cautious crack. The familiar face on the other side wore a mask of contempt, as usual. The unpleasant man ran his hand through a shaggy silver mane of hair.

“You called?”

“Yes.” Doctor Saduj stammered. “Please. Please come in.”

Saduj’s visitor pushed passed him into the office. Doctor Saduj leaned out and checked the hall to ensure no one was paying attention. Once satisfied, he closed and locked the door. Saduj went to address his visitor when it occurred to him that he didn’t even know the man’s name. In his mind, he always referred to him as ‘The Tie’ due to the habit the man had of having his tie flung over his shoulder.

“So what do you have to report?” The Tie asked.

Doctor Saduj’s brow dampened. “You were correct sir. He came to see the boy, just as you suspected he would.”

Despite the apparent importance, no, danger, of Pridament, The Tie’s interest seemed casual. “He used the usual alias?”

“Pridament. Yes sir.”

“Did the boy give a description?”

“I saw him myself.”

Doctor Saduj related a description of Pridament.

“And were you able to find out what they discussed?”

“The boy claimed it was just stories about his parents. It seemed like there might’ve been more, but he refused to say. I confess, I think I interrupted them.”

The Tie waved it off, a minor offense not worth addressing.

“And what of the boy? Is he well?” The Tie asked.

“Given that he’s been in a coma for four days, I’d say he’s doing splendidly. There are no cognitive deficits that I can find. Most of his injuries seem to be mending at, well, honestly, an abnormally fast rate.”

“What of his arm? What does his right arm look like?”

Doctor Saduj gave his nose an absent–minded scratch. “It’s been horribly scarred. It looks like someone intentionally carved symbols into his flesh.”

An excited anticipation filled The Tie’s eyes. “How extensive is the scarring?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The scarring, Doctor Saduj. Is it a small patch of symbols, or does it cover the majority of his arm?”

“Oh.” Saduj gave another scratch to the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses back to their proper position. “It covers from his elbow right onto his hands. I can’t imagine what sort of madness would drive a person to do such a thing.”

“Yes, yes. Fine, good. I appreciate your prompt action in this matter, Doctor. If you hear anything further concerning Pridament or there’s any radical change in the boy’s health, be sure to contact me.”

Saduj attempted to snap to attention. He’d never been in the military, and he didn’t know if the organization even did such things. “I will. I’m here to serve, sir.”

“Glad to hear it.” The Tie seemed amused by Saduj’s feeble attempts at military order. “Take good care of young Gwynn, Doctor Saduj. Return him to health and get him out of this hospital.
We
will see to him after that.”

“I will sir.” In a conspiratorial whisper, he added, “To heal the world.”

“Yes, doctor,” a hunger filled The Tie’s eyes, “to heal the world indeed.”

Gwynn
felt restless. Did they buy uncomfortable chairs in the office intentionally—a sadistic torture to further the uneasy experience of being there?

Gwynn’s left knee bounced in time to a marching rhythm that teased at the edge of his consciousness. He’d never been in the office. Almost finished high school and he had managed to keep his head down and never attract much attention. Now he had smashed the nose of the reigning school football hero. No doubt, he was a dead man.

After a seeming eternity, the principal’s door opened. Gwynn’s guts twisted as he caught a glimpse of the now familiar heart shaped face. Thankfully, the murderous intent in her dark eyes seemed to have vanished.

“Thank you very much Fuyuko, I appreciate it.” Mr. Davis, the school principal, said.

Fuyuko gave a slight bow and left the office.

Mr. Davis turned to Gwynn and sighed. “C’mon in Mr. Dormath.”

The words,
Dead man walking
, echoed in Gwynn’s head as he trudged into the office.

Mr. Davis shut the door and assumed his seat behind a large desk, barren except for a computer.

“Let’s get right to it, shall we.” Mr. Davis steepled his fingers. “You’re here because of what happened in the cafeteria?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ll give you some points for coming here yourself. At least it shows you’re willing to accept the consequences of your actions. That said, striking another student is unacceptable.”

“I know sir. I’m sorry.” Gwynn searched for an excuse. Something to explain what had happened. In the end, he had to admit the truth. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Mr. Davis’ smile held some sympathy. “Fuyuko tells me Mr. Haze goaded you into it. Given what happened to you and Miss Murray, I can understand why you reacted the way you did.”

Gwynn tried to process what Mr. Davis had said. “Fuyuko? You mean that girl who was just in here?”

“Yes, a new transfer student from out of province who started last Monday. She saw what happened and felt she should tell me. I guess she figured I would believe her because she’s impartial.”

Gwynn started to feel the noose loosen around his neck. “Did you?”

“Gwynn, Eric Haze has a certain reputation in this school that I am well aware of. Yes, I do believe what Fuyuko told me, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a serious infraction and that you need to receive some form of punishment.”

“Yes sir.” Gwynn shrank in his chair.

“I think you should go home for the rest of the day, and take the next two days off as well. Officially, it’s a suspension. But I think you and I can both agree you need some more time off to…relax.”

Gwynn tasted rising sick. Jaimie would be pissed.

“Yes sir.” He gulped out the words.

“Is there anything you need to get from your locker?”

“Just my coat.”

“Good. Your Aunt is coming to get you. I’ll come with you so you can get your coat.”

For nine years, Gwynn had an obligation to be a model young man for Jaimie. She’d taken him in. He had no one else. She’d abandoned so much for him. He appreciated it. He valued her. The feeling of letting her down was a punch to his stomach.

“Mr. Davis?” He hesitated. Maybe he should keep quiet.

“Yes, Gwynn?”

Desperation took hold. He needed answers.

“I was hoping to see Sophia, to talk to her about what happened. But I haven’t seen her all day.”

Mr. Davis cleared his throat. “As far as I’m aware, Miss Murray has been away from school since the incident. I don’t think she was badly hurt, but she hasn’t been well enough to come back to school.”

“Okay. Um, thanks.” That had him worried. Pridament said that Sophia had left the hospital before Gwynn woke up. Had he lied? Were Sophia’s injuries worse?

Mr. Davis escorted Gwynn to his locker. Thankfully, the hallways were empty as it was still the lunch hour. When they returned to the main office, Jaimie had arrived. Mr. Davis explained Gwynn’s punishment and the events leading to it. Gwynn couldn’t read Jaimie’s eyes. He wished she would yell at him; hit him, anything other than be the calm, understanding Jaimie. His insides twisted so bad they overpowered the continuous throbbing in his arm and head. Gwynn trudged behind her to the car and crashed into the passenger’s seat.

“I’m sorry.” Gwynn said when Jaimie had belted herself in.

Jaimie closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I’m not that mad you hit Eric. Hell, it’s about time someone took that kid down a peg. It’s just a bad time. You fought me so hard about staying home a bit longer.”

“You were right. I should have listened.”

Jaimie opened her eyes and smiled. “You’re a good kid. This shouldn’t have happened. First that damn house, now a suspension on your record. You don’t deserve this. It just seems unfair. I think that’s what upsets me most.”

“Thanks Jaimie.”

They drove home in silence. Once there, Gwynn went up to his room and paced. Halloween. He replayed the night in his head. Maybe Pridament would be able to clear up some of it. The man seemed to want to talk more. Gwynn had caught sight of him several times while at the hospital. More than anything else, Gwynn wanted to know what Sophia’s role had been. Only she could answer that for him.

After a few minutes, he went downstairs. Jaimie shuffled about the kitchen. She seemed lost.

Gwynn cleared his throat.

Jaimie turned, her face red and flustered. “I was going to start dinner, but then I couldn’t remember what I was going to make.” She sank into a chair.

“You know it’s only two o’clock, right?” Gwynn asked.

“I know. I was hoping to make something…happy.”

Tears stung at Gwynn’s eyes.

“I’m sorry I let you down.”

Jaimie’s face fell. “No, no, it’s not you Gwynn. If anything, I’m the one who’s doing something wrong. I mean, in just a little over a week you’re almost killed and then suspended from school. God, my sister would disown me.”

Gwynn searched for words. The mention of his mother had him flustered. Bad enough to feel he had failed Jaimie, but failing to live up to what his parents’ would have wanted for him? He’d become a failure.

Jaimie sniffled and wiped her sleeve across her eyes. “Crap, I’m a mess. Did you want something?”

Gwynn hesitated. It was the wrong time to ask. At the same time, something felt wrong. Something gnawed at his insides and only one person he could think of had answers.

“Jaimie, I know I shouldn’t be asking, but, I hoped you would let me go see Sophia.”

Jaimie exploded. “You’re goddamn right you shouldn’t be asking me. You think that just ’cause you’re off school you should be able to go make out with your girlfriend?”

Gwynn didn’t let her continue. “Make out with her? Girlfriend? I’m thinking she set me up so Eric Haze could get me into that house. But then something changed, she took the bullet for me. Why? I’m not interested in making out with her; I just want to know what the hell really happened.”

Jaimie’s eyes were stern, but she weighed his words. He considered pressing his argument, but that risked going too far.

“If she wasn’t at school, do you think she’s in any condition to see you?”

The building tightness in his chest started to unravel—Jaimie seemed to be considering it. “She wasn’t badly hurt; they discharged her from the hospital before me. I think she’s just laying low. I think she kind of ruined Eric’s plans by going in the house first, maybe she’s just avoiding that crowd until everything blows over.”

Jaimie shook her head.

“Fine. On the condition you call me from your cell if you’re staying and call me again when you’re on your way home.”

“I will.” It dawned on Gwynn just how much faith his aunt put in him. “Thanks Jaimie. I promise. I’ll call you soon.”

“You better, or I’m not going to be Ms. Nice–and–Understanding–Aunt any longer. Got it?”

Gwynn gave a salute.

“Got it.”

Gwynn bolted out the door before she could change her mind.

§

He had walked
the route to Sophia’s a number of times, though he’d always made it seem he had another destination in mind. He would often hope Sophia might be outside her house alone and call him over, or maybe join him in his walk. It had never happened, and as he had gotten older, he realized his actions were kind of creepy and that he needed to dial back.

He passed the 7/11. A shudder ran along his spine.

His memories had him so preoccupied, he slammed into someone at the stoplights. He had to catch himself from falling.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” His voice stammered.

“That seems to be a habit of yours.”

Gwynn stared at the girl Mr. Davis had named Fuyuko. Genuine anger filled her eyes. Clearly not a girl to make an enemy.

“I know. It’s been a rough day for me. I’m sorry I keep running you over.”

Fuyuko shrugged. “I’ve had worse things happen.”

She took a step closer to Gwynn, moving beyond his barrier of personal space. It wasn’t unpleasant, just awkward. She seemed to be inspecting him.

“I heard a rumor you were in an explosion.”

Gwynn tried to laugh it off. It sounded unnatural and even uncomfortable. “That’s what they tell me. Whole thing’s a little blurry.”

“When I came into the school last Monday, the other students were saying that you were going to die.”

“Doctors got it wrong. I’m fine.”

Fuyuko’s gaze fell to his hand. “Trying to start some new fashion trend?”

“Hmm? What?” Gwynn looked down. Oh, she meant the glove. His face reddened. “No, no. There’s, umm, some scars. I didn’t want people staring at them.”

“I see. Well, good bye.”

Fuyuko turned to cross the road.

“Wait.” Gwynn called,

She turned back. “What is it?”

Thankfully, she didn’t sound annoyed.

“I wanted to say thanks. For speaking to Mr. Davis. It really saved me. No one else would’ve bothered to help me out.”

She smiled, small and brief, but Gwynn had seen it.

“I thought Mr. Davis should know the whole story. The way others were talking, I knew none of them would.” She said, her voice smooth and silky—no accent that he could detect, just an air of intelligence and sophistication.