Descended, p.24
Descended, page 24
Indigo shrugged and returned to his bike. He swung a leg over it, reaching for the ignition. Whatever was going on here was clearly none of his business.
“Get out of the car, Skeet,” he heard Sasha say to the greasy-haired man.
“Do I look stupid to you?” Skeet sneered. Even his voice was greasy. Indigo hesitated.
“Don’t make me come in there, eh,” Sasha replied cockily, crossing his arms.
“You come in here, I ain’t responsible for what happens,” Skeet said.
Dawn cried out.
Indigo saw a flash of metal from the corner of his eye. Skeet had a strange golden dagger clutched in his palm, its blade crooked. The girl winced as he held it to her cheek.
“If you harm one hair on her head…” Dawn warned, stepping forwards. Sasha grabbed her.
“She belongs to me now. She knows what I’ll do if she ever tries to leave me. But I won’t hurt her as long as he stays back,” Skeet called, his voice now tinged with fear. “I mean it, Sasha, I’m watching you.”
“How about next time I bring Nash and Aurora?” Sasha said, still clutching Dawn’s arm. “Really give you something to worry about, ya?”
Skeet paled but kept the knife to the girl’s cheek, although Indigo noticed it trembled.
“Let her out of the car, Skeet,” Dawn said, her voice catching. “Please.”
“She’s a big girl, Dawn,” Skeet taunted, having regained his composure. “Old enough to make her own decisions. And she decided she wanted to come with me.” He turned to the girl. “Didn’t you, baby?”
The girl glanced from Dawn to Skeet, then nodded.
“You’re violating all kinds of agreements just by being here, Skeet,” Sasha said. “What’s Raf gonna do when he hears about this?” Indigo lurched forward in his seat at the sound of Raf’s name.
“I ain’t violated nothing,” Skeet said. A smug smile grew on his thin lips as he glanced sideways at the girl. “Well, almost nothing,” he added slyly.
Dawn roared and made to rush at him, but Sasha grabbed her again, wrapping his arms around her and shushing her gently.
“Get out of the car,” Sasha said through clenched teeth.
“I never set foot on your turf,” Skeet called to them, placing his hand on the girl’s knee. “She met me outside of town. I done nothing wrong.”
“She’s sixteen years old!” Dawn screamed. Sasha whispered to her. She looked at him fiercely for a beat or two, then her shoulders slumped and she stepped back to stand by the SUV.
Sasha looked right at Indigo then and although he didn’t say a thing, Indigo heard his voice clear as day inside his head: ‘You wanna help so bad, fine. I’ll distract him. You get the girl.’
Indigo stared into Sasha’s eyes and received the confirmation he needed in the intensity he found there. Another person with higher senses. His telepathy had grown more finely tuned under Raf’s guidance and he was now able to discern the messages within the white noise. Indigo inclined his head in the subtlest of nods. He climbed slowly off his bike, taking a step back, out of Skeet’s peripheral vision. Sasha started running towards the brown sedan. Indigo slunk around the back of the car towards the passenger side.
Suddenly Sasha shimmered, and an identical clone of him materialised in synch beside him. Just like that, there were two of him, running side by side in perfect unison. Indigo’s step faltered. He gaped. One Sasha sprung onto the bonnet of the car, then somersaulted onto the roof, while the other lunged at the driver’s side door, yanking it open. Before Skeet could react, one Sasha had grabbed him by the shirtfront and torn him from his seat. The other front-flipped effortlessly off the roof of the car, landing in the dirt behind them.
Indigo refocussed, quickly moving to the passenger side door, easing it open and holding his hand out to the girl. She stared up at him, face tear-stained, lip quivering. She looked from Indigo to Dawn, then to Skeet, then shook her head stubbornly.
“Please?” he asked, glancing to where a Sasha had just slammed Skeet hard onto his back on the road. “Just ‘til whatever this is, is over?” He grasped her fingers in his, flashed her a winning smile. She relented, allowing him to pull her into the nook of his arm and guide her back around the car.
Skeet clambered to his feet, turning in a slow circle, slashing out with his dagger as the two Sashas slowly circled him. Skeet jutted his dagger at a Sasha, who disappeared only to reappear behind him. Skeet whirled around, his lip curling in a sneer. “Games, Sasha?” he rasped. “Really?”
Both Sashas smiled smugly, shrugging in unison. And then one vanished. The remaining Sasha stepped forward, smiling, beckoning Skeet with two fingers. Skeet lunged. Sasha weaved and ducked in one fluid motion, then leapt high into the air, kicking out, his foot connecting with Skeet’s face with an almighty crack.
Skeet staggered back, blood exploding from his nose. He shook himself off, running at Sasha, dagger held high. Sasha scooped a large stick off the ground, wielding it expertly to meet the dagger thrusting down towards him. Skeet continued to strike, but Sasha blocked him, again and again. Sasha was quick and nimble, effortlessly twisting and turning. Skeet was clumsy, panting and sweating. “You’re dead, karate kid,” he gasped, stumbling towards Sasha, dagger held high.
Sasha back somersaulted out of reach, grinning mischievously as he landed, cocking his head tauntingly. He was just toying with Skeet. Blood dripped down Skeet’s chin, his eyes wild.
Indigo guided the girl towards Dawn, giving the brawl a wide berth. But Skeet saw. “You fair weather bitch!” he screamed as he spun, hurling his dagger. It was heading straight for the girl’s chest with alarming accuracy. Sasha yelled a warning, and Indigo threw the girl out of the way, diving after her. But he wasn’t fast enough. He felt a sharp pain as the dagger pierced low on his left side, embedded to the hilt. He staggered, stopped to stare at the stain of red spreading to quickly colour his once-white t-shirt. He gazed up at the others in numb shock, head light. His knees started to buckle as Dawn moved towards him, clutching him in her arms and lowering him gently to his back on the dusty road. She cradled his head in her lap.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” she soothed, her hand on his cheek. He turned his head to see Sasha leap onto Skeet, pushing him to the ground, holding his forearm to his throat. Sasha no longer looked playfully amused, his fine features marred with fury, his teeth bared.
Indigo’s fingers brushed the handle of the dagger, warm and sticky. He felt woozy, his mouth dry as cotton. His eyes searched, found Dawn’s, locked onto them. They glistened with comfort.
“Shit, Skeet,” he heard Sasha growl, “do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”
“He got in the way,” Skeet gasped defensively. Sasha must have loosened his grip on his throat. “It ain’t my fault he stuck his goddamned nose in where it weren’t wanted.”
“Do you have any idea who he is?” Sasha asked, although his voice suddenly sounded really far away, thick and hazy.
“Nup and I don’t give a shit.” A snort of derision.
“You don’t? Well, let’s just say that Raf will, eh? Big time.”
“You mean…” Skeet said, all confidence having vanished. “He ain’t…”
Sasha must have given some non-verbal response because the next thing he knew, Indigo could hear Skeet promising he didn’t know. How could he have?
Indigo was struggling to focus now, confused at what was going on, what Sasha was implying, why Skeet suddenly sounded alarmed. He tried to sit up, to see what was happening, but Dawn held him down and he hadn’t the strength to fight her.
“Hold still, sweetie,” she murmured, placing her hand over his to stop him grabbing at the dagger. “I’ll have you fixed up in a jiffy.” With an air of calm, she pulled the dagger from his body, casting it aside and placing her hand firmly over the gushing wound. Indigo gasped as sharp pain tore through his insides. He bit his lip, a cold sweat upon his brow.
“Good boy,” Dawn soothed, “that’s the way, you’re doing so good.” She had one hand on his laceration, the other open against his cheek. Her touch was like smooth stones warmed by the sun. Through the haze, he was suddenly aware of a swirling golden light, pink-tinged and glowing as it grew to wreathe him, strongest and brightest around his abdomen.
He must have passed out because the next thing he knew, someone was propping his head up and pressing a bottle of water to his lips.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood, honey,” Dawn was saying. “You need to drink.”
He sat up with a start, his hands moving to feel through his blood-soaked t-shirt. It didn’t hurt anymore. He lifted his shirt to inspect the wound. It was gone, a faint silver line of scar tissue the only sign it was ever there at all.
He turned to look at Dawn, who was kneeling beside him in the dust. “How did you do that?” he gasped.
“Says the boy who healed a triplegic,” she shrugged, smiling warmly.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
“We’re friends of Raf’s, brah,” Sasha said, sitting down beside him. Indigo looked up. Both Skeet and his car were gone.
“Friends?” Dawn said lightly. “I’d say we’re family.” She looked intently at Indigo. “Raf, Sasha and I, Nash and Aurora, we’re kin.”
“Kin?” Indigo asked softly, looking from Dawn to Sasha. He was still lightheaded. “Who’re Nash and Aurora?”
Dawn said, “So you haven’t met them yet? You’ll love them.” She patted his hand.
Sasha raised an eyebrow at her and she grinned wryly. “Okay well, him,” she shrugged. “You’ll love him immediately. Her, you’ll grow to love in time.”
Indigo was suddenly overcome with exhaustion, too tired to even try to comprehend what they were talking about.
“Let’s get you home,” Dawn said as Sasha hooked an arm around him, pulled him deftly to his feet. Sasha was considerably shorter than Indigo, but he was strong.
“Raf’s bike…” Indigo mumbled.
“It’s okay, man. I’ll ride out with Nash later on and pick it up,” Sasha told him. Indigo felt in his pocket for the keys, then pressed them into Sasha’s hand as he led Indigo to the car where the girl sat quietly in the back. Sasha helped him into the front seat, buckling him in, then opening the glovebox to chuck Skeet’s dagger inside. He climbed into the driver’s seat whilst Dawn claimed the seat behind Indigo’s. Indigo’s head was swimming with questions, but his eyelids felt lead heavy, his head so fuzzy. He leant his brow against the cool pane of the window and closed his eyes for a moment.
“You’re in big trouble when we get home, young lady,” Dawn muttered behind him.
“Seriously, Mom?” the girl replied. “Don’t you think I’ve been punished enough?”
“Oooh, Reggie my dear, it hasn’t even begun,” Dawn snapped.
“I’m humiliated, my life is ruined!” Reggie cried dramatically. “It’s not fair! Why do I have to have a Mom like you?”
“Yes, I’m a terrible mother,” Dawn said evenly, “coming all the way out here to save you from being kidnapped by that monster.”
“He’s not a monster!” Reggie sobbed. “I love him.”
“He just threw a knife at you, dear heart. He’s certainly no prize.”
“What do you expect him to do when you and your friends corner him like that?”
“You’re not seriously defending him?” Dawn gasped. “My God, you’re sad about this – when you should be angry.” It was a statement.
“Geez, Mom, how about a little privacy? There’s never any privacy with a mother like you! I bet Sash didn’t have a nosey mom like you, always feeling what he’s feeling and wanting to talk about it and explore it and resolve it.”
“Leave me out of this, Reg,” Sasha said, eyes on the road. “My mom’s Japanese, ya? If I spoke to her the way you’re speaking to Dawn, I wouldn’t have seen the outside of my room for a month.”
Indigo suddenly registered what they were talking about. “You can feel what she’s feeling?” he interrupted, turning his head so he could see Dawn.
Dawn smiled and nodded.
“My mother the empath,” Reggie snapped. “She can feel what everyone’s feeling!” She crossed her arms and turned her face to the window. He could see her scowling in the reflection.
“Just like you, Indigo honey,” Dawn said softly.
“H-how did you know that?” he stammered.
“Takes one to know one,” she quipped.
His gut started to hurt, churning like a washing machine full of pins and needles. He hunched to clutch it with trembling hands.
“Hey, hey, hey, I know it’s tough being so sensitive,” she said, and he felt her hand on his shoulder. “It was hard enough for me as a girl. I know it can be especially hard as a boy, growing up with all these ridiculous ideas and beliefs about what a man should be.”
“Here she goes again,” Reggie muttered under her breath.
“I’m always telling my sons that boys don’t have to be strong all the time,” Dawn continued, ignoring Reggie. “You have just as much right to struggle as the next person! We don’t teach you that, and then you grow up and don’t know how to manage when you do struggle, and don’t feel comfortable asking for help because you feel weak when you do. But, Indigo, to ask for help shows incredible bravery.”
Indigo turned to face the front, his attention on the desert-scape flashing by, red and orange and sunburnt. His whole life he’d played the role of rescuer and relished it; he didn’t know if he had it in him to flip that and ask for help.
“As empaths, we are intimately connected to others, which I know can be overwhelming and painful, especially when you don’t understand where their feelings end and yours begin. And with a gift as strong as yours, you are so often overcome with a tidal wave of emotion, a whole city of feeling – literally – that you don’t know quite what to do with it. It requires tremendous focus and highly honed skill to manage.” He felt her gaze stern on his back.
Indigo thought back to how bad things had gotten for him at Wilson’s in New York – the sheer anxiety, the overwhelming loneliness, the constant ache in his chest, how it had crushed him so he could barely breathe. He now knew he’d been feeling the unhappiness, the anxiety, the fear, the anger, the melancholy of everyone around him. Added to his own issues, it was no wonder he hadn’t coped. He never wanted to feel like that again. He swallowed hard, shook his head. He was suddenly so shattered he could barely fight it.
He felt her soften then. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “It’s not an impossible feat. In fact, like anything, once you know how, it’s easy.”
“Sheesh, Mom, give the guy a break,” Reggie admonished. “I mean, do you blame him for not wanting to hear this? I can’t imagine anything worse than being like you.”
Dawn sighed heavily. “Reggie hon, you’re skating on thin ice over murky water. If I were you, I’d pull my head in.”
Indigo closed his eyes and when he opened them, they were parked in Raf’s driveway and Sasha was helping him out of the car. Raf came striding out wide eyed, brow creased, as he supported Indigo’s other side.
“I’m fine,” Indigo murmured. “I’m just really tired.” They led him to his room, stripping off his bloody t-shirt and laying him on his bed, placing a comforter over him. They left the room and he was vaguely aware of them talking in harried whispers. Raf returned briefly to place a bottle of water on his nightstand and lay a warm soft hand on Indigo’s forehead and that was the last thing Indigo was aware of that day.
Indigo was awakened by an unbearable thirst the next morning. He sat up, groping for the water bottle he vaguely recalled Raf replacing on his nightstand when he’d come in to check on him during the night. He found it, twisting the lid off and chugging the whole thing. His room was bathed in dusky grey light, so he knew it was early. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, dropping his head into his hands. The events of the day before swum back to him and he jumped up, peering down at the faint silvery line that now marred his left side. It was about two inches long and when he ran his fingers over it, it felt smooth.
He drifted into the bathroom, turning the shower up as hot as he could bear it, standing under it until he felt human again. After he’d dried himself off, he dressed in shorts and a tank top, heading into the kitchen to grab another bottle of water from the fridge. As he passed by Raf’s room, he saw it was empty, the bed neatly made and the curtains pulled back. He must have gone to his yoga class already. Indigo didn’t feel up to running, but he thought a walk might do him good. He grabbed his Walkman and the Sun Devils baseball cap Raf had given him, then pulled his trainers on, heading out the back gate and into the forest beyond.
He returned later that morning to find Raf sitting outside in the sunshine with a guest. The two men sat at the table beside the pool, a cast iron teapot and two small teacups laid out before them. Raf’s face lit up when Indigo rounded the side of the house, and when the other man turned, he saw it was Sasha. Sasha stood, stepping gracefully over the terracotta pavers towards him, his eyes tinged with worry, his smile cautious. He wore navy-checked shorts and a mint green button-down, cuffs rolled to the elbow. His thick hair was slicked into a bun.
“Morning, brah, how you feeling today?” He placed a hand on Indigo’s shoulder, held another out to him. Indigo took it. Sasha closed his other hand warmly over the top. Indigo noticed he had a tattoo on his inner forearm, eight asymmetrical shapes he recognised as a map of the Hawaiian Islands. “I brought your bike back. I really want to thank you for your help yesterday. I’m real sorry for how things went down, eh?”
“It’s all good,” Indigo smiled hesitantly.
“Sash’s filled me in on what happened,” Raf said, producing a third teacup and filling it for Indigo. He gestured to a chair and Indigo sat down beside Sasha. “I’m sorry you got caught up in it all.”
