Ascent, p.36
Ascent, page 36
part #2 of The Lit Series Series
“Goodnight Uncle Sam” Josh responded with not much thought before looking and then grimacing with confusion “He's not really my…”
Sam rolled his eyes and interrupted. “I know. I know and that's great but… tonight? What happened?”
“Not now.” Ellie swung the glass door open, shaking her head. “Not now. Deal with him. Don't talk too much about what happened tonight.” She glanced at the car mistrustingly.
“It happened to him too,” Sam whispered. “At the same time.”
“Don't talk about it too much with him. We did it. It was us, it was Josh.”
“Well would you mind not doing it again. It really fucking hurt,” Sam stated. “And like I mean in many ways… physically and ‘public disgrace’ kind of hurt. How did he do that?”
“I don't know how. So it stays between us. Don't work it out with him. Play it down. It was big Sam. It was really big.” Ellie shook her head in disbelief. “I have to sleep… tomorrow. Come tomorrow. Such weird shit happened tonight. I don't even know where to start.”
“It was really weird, and now you're my uncle,” Josh agreed, yawning as Ellie led him into the building. Sam watched as the door closed behind them. Faintly, Ellie pressed the elevator button. She placed a weary, soothing hand on Josh's head as he kept talking. She turned, surprised to see Sam still looking at them. Josh noticed too and waved happily, like he hadn't seen him for days, not just seconds.
“You're being creepy again!” she called.
“Piss off!” Sam called back, chuckling. “It's what we do. We’re all creepy!”
He laughed as they entered the elevator. Turning to face him, Ellie delivered one, large fake smile before the life door slid closed between them. He smiled back in amusement. Twat.
Ellie tucked the blankets around Josh on the couch. A pillow for herself was placed on the carpet beside him where she sat.
“Are you OK?” she smiled at him.
Josh nodded, his beanie flopping further down on his lazily blinking eyes. “I’m OK. Is Nate OK?”
Nate was not OK. He was a mess. She didn't want to upset him further. How could she explain to him that from this moment, she had no idea what was going to happen to any of them?
“Yeah. I’m sure he went to the hospital. Saw the Doctor and they are fixing him up. They’re nice people” Ellie replied.
“Yeah they are nice. Nate is really nice.” Josh suddenly looked very sad. “Will I see them again sometime?”
Ellie thought for a moment. Josh noticed how sad she looked. He had made so many people sad lately. He wondered, when he wasn't there, if they were happier? Was Ellie happy when he wasn't there?
“I don't know. But you and I will go away for a while.”
“Where?” Josh asked, frowning.
“Anywhere. We can go anywhere you want. Somewhere…”
“Sunny?” Josh's eyes shone. “With a beach?”
“Yeah,” she chuckled softly. “That would be great.”
Josh's eyes closed slowly. He smiled to himself with thoughts of sun and warmth. Happy things like colourful drinks and not being cold all the time. She let him sleep with this thought. As he drifted off she let herself droop across the couch, her legs underneath her on the carpet. It was then the screaming started, ever so lightly in the background - the pounding, the hollering. Bael was kneeling beside her, his white eyes burrowing into hers. She looked at the mottled, gruesome face as he towered above her, leering down. The fury was palpable. She had controlled him, pushed him and his mutt into a corner, and then Josh dispersed them. Two people had walked away.
Satisfied, Ellie looked at Bael. Lazily she reached to the side and brought her headphones to her ears. Calming music, drowning out the chaos around her.
“Goodnight fuckface” she smiled for the fifth time in one night. Closing her eyes, she quickly fell asleep.
Sam returned to the car to a different atmosphere. Jason was quiet, contemplative and gazing out the window. Sam knew there would be questions, however, he was sure that Bael was not revealed to him. Why? Although he had only known Jason for a small time, he was sure of his impertinence and brashness. He wouldn't be subtle.
“Why did the kid look like a homeless person?” Jason asked coldly.
“They had walked quite a way. It was raining.”
“He was covered in shit, so was she. Like Oliver Twist and a homeless woman,” he mocked. Jesus, this guy was a dick. A moment of silence passed. Jason took a large, elaborate breath. “So how did your sister last this long? How did she get out of it?”
“Stepsister. She's my stepsister,” Sam answered impatiently.
“Yeah, but still,” Jason seemed to not understand. “Why would you keep her around?”
The strangeness of his response made Sam unwilling to answer. Keep her around? He seriously believed that the people taken in his life were ultimately of his choosing. He couldn't ignore the niggling thought that Jason was jealous that Sam had spoken to someone else. His comments seemed designed to insult, to lash out.
He really was that needy. If they were dating, Sam would've left him at their first meeting. Red flags abounded.
The strange conversation continued until Sam pulled into the carpark of a pub he had frequented before. Pleasant, not too pricey and never too busy. Jason made a quip about ‘slumming it’ that Sam ignored. Making their way into the dimly lit entrance of the saloon, Sam immediately spotted a table where he and Jason could ride out this second get-together. Perfect location, near the door and in view of a clock. He wouldn't have to be seen checking the time on his phone. One hour was all he was prepared to give this evening.
Sam ordered drinks, two pints of the pub’s own ale. The tall, frosted glass looked awkward and heavy when held in Jason’s long thin hands
“Salut,” Jason stated, tilting his beer at Sam and waiting for the obligatory eye contact. It amused Sam that Jason thought staring at someone menacingly was appropriate when giving a pretentious cheer, but he went with it.
“So, tell me about yourself Sam.” Jason sat back, one arm crossed over the chest, the over holding his glass.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything,” he shrugged.
“OK. Um… My parents were Scottish. Grew up there until about 8 years of age. Moved here, studied accounting and finance, did…”
Jason clucked rudely, rolling his eyes, “yeah great. I mean now. I mean after your birth.”
Confused and insulted, Sam frowned “My birth? I told you… I was born in Scotland.”
Exasperated, Jason shook his head. “No, I mean your other birth. Your… you know…”
Sam leant forward, shaking his head wearily. Jason didn't want to know about him at all. He wanted his morbid curiosity fed.
“My other birth?”
“What about your blessing?”
“The blessing? Oh good God.” Sam tapped the table. “OK, you wanna know about that. I was 11. It started when I was 11.”
“Yeah, pretty much the same for all of us. And your parents? How long till they were gone?” Jason stared at him over his drink.
Stunned with disbelief, Sam scoffed. “You’re a fucking great conversationist, seriously. Keep it light can you?”
“What does it look like?” Jason continued, unabated. My God, this guy just didn't listen. Completely socially inept.
“It doesn't matter what it looks like, does it?” Sam kicked back in his chair. He would try another tactic. “So Jason! What do you do with yourself?”
“Huh?”
“What do you do for work?”
“Oh… graphic design. Shit, really. Anyway, how many? What's your number?” Jason sat back as if about to duel in a video game. He was comparing scores.
“No.” Sam shook his head in disgust. “I’m not giving you that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don't want to, OK? Can't you just talk like a normal person?” Sam asked.
Jason immediately looked uncomfortable, and Sam noticed. Wow, there it was. Sam had just crossed that line. If anyone else had insulted him, now would be the time he would take them. But he couldn't do that with Sam. This is Jason when faced with someone he considered an equal. He was trying so hard to control himself. The anxiety was palpable, practically leaking out of him.
Jason scowled like a child. “I am having a normal conversation. I am not normal.”
Another trigger. This guy was a loaded gun. Letting the tension sit, Sam downed the last of his pint. He would lighten the mood, let Jason off his uncomfortable hook.
“Grab another, your turn,” he said, shaking the empty glass in his hand. For a moment, Jason just stared at him, awkward and uneasy, as if letting himself be guided by Sam's request, he smiled, standing up.
“Same again!” Sam called, watching Jason walk to the bar, gazing at the people around them. A collection of stereotypes all dressed in their warmest winter wear. A middle-aged couple canoodling in the corner. A collection of old, lonely men who sat in a line along the dark wood bar. Was this his future? An outcast, drinking his cares and liver away in a dark dingy bar? Who was he kidding? He scoffed to himself. He didn't have a future.
Chapter 28
Crystal ran awkwardly out of the elevator on very high heels, into the Pantheon. Where was it? Rubbing her face clean of the sticky dried blood from the episode an hour before she quickly turned to the wall mirror. Lifting her nose, she rubbed off the last small smear of blood from her upper lip. The front of her coat was speckled with the dark, crimson stains. “Fuck!” Slapping the front of her coat angrily, he tossed her bag on the couch.
Quickly checking her blonde, unmoving hair she trotted down the corridor to the room of paintings. A gentle light flickered on as she entered, sniffing and rubbing her face once more. Her eyes glowed with purpose. Her memory was hazy; the image hadn’t been clear. She had seen the boy but what was that thing with him? Could it possibly be what she thought it was?
The scribe was Thiago. She turned to her left while scanning the archaic paintings of the ancient Scribe. There it was – it was one of the most ancient in the collection
Lobo de fuego. The Firewolf.
Crystal had seen the Firewolf, there was no doubt, and the legendary monster was attached to a damn child. A child… this, had in the past, brought advantages. If the Firewolf was here, Bael was here. For some time now she had doubted Mika’s prediction as mere assumption. There was the presence of all three players, Devotees, Underlings and Ascendants in one location. The presence of a Scribe. Mika made the decision to end her… why? For God's sake why would he do that? The last Scribe possibly of their time. Aahna had been taken out for no good reason. She could have been used for years more.
Yes, all the signs pointed to it being possible, if not probable. But as time drew on, she began to question whether this was in fact the case. But now she had seen the Firewolf. Bael would be here somewhere.
What should she do with the information? Mika wouldn’t be here, but he would arrive soon enough and, if he knew, he would be unstoppable. The only way he would know is if she told him. What about Luka and Chelamah? It was unlikely, as had been shown so frequently in the past, that they would have sensed what she did. She was a Devotee with the primary of Seer. Luka and Chelamah were mostly Shadows. So was this secret hers, hers alone? She had to be sure.
Crystal had found Luka, Noah and Will. She had no doubt in the power of her sight. The Firewolf was attached to that child in the other realm. Looking at the painting in front, she saw it. There it was, its eyes bright in the background of the painting, standing behind its master.
Full of anticipation, she left the hall of Scribes and entered the living room. Hesitating for a moment, she stood before the window, staring out at the bright city skyline beneath a black sky. Reluctantly she removed her stained coat and then the rest of her clothing, paying close attention to folding them and placing them in a neat pile on the seat beside her.
A tremble started in her chest, snatching away her breath making her whole body gasp. Pulling shaking hands to her side, she lifted her head and took a single large breath. Her eyes rolled over to white as her skin sank into her frame, making her skeletal, cadaverous. A piercing screech burst forth as a blackened form fell forward, out of its flesh cocoon. Stretching its long hands through the carpet, the monster lifted its round, crimson clad head to the window. With two quick movements, it kicked its back legs freeing them from its pointless, human restraint. It moved on all fours, like an animal towards the city spread out before it. Slowly it placed its talons upon the window giving three quick taps. It knew what it had to find. It knew the disposable strip of flesh left behind would see what it did, know what it knew.
With a burst of agile speed it flew forward, through the window as if it was made of black light, and into the city beyond, to hunt for the child who walked with the Wolf.
“Do you ever like, pick someone just because they've annoyed you?” Jason asked, once again turning the conversation to the extreme.
“No,” Sam answered quickly. “Why would I do that?”
“Why not?”
“Because the whole damn world is annoying… what would I do? Destroy it all? No… Everyone is annoying. I, myself, am very annoying. Should someone take me out for that?” Sam replied sternly. Ellie immediately came to mind.
“Some people are just like… pointless.”
“Maybe? Seriously you just… wow,” Sam was flabbergasted.
Jason nodded and cast his eyes around the room. Sam watched as his eyes went from person to person.
“Some people don't really matter. Most people don’t,” he muttered. Sam watched with slight intrigue. He was sure he saw Jason's eyes grow dark and threatening as he scanned the room. A sudden cackle of a middle-aged woman burst forth from the bar. Jason instantly turned to look at her. His mouth smiled slightly. his eyes grew wide and darker still.
Fuck… thought Sam… he’s choosing someone.
“What about her?” Jason gestured with a nod of the head. “That fat thing at the bar. All dolled up. Probably had five kids to five different fathers. She's kinda pointless, isn't she?”
Sam watched aghast as the slightly inebriated woman took another gulp of the pink alcohol, giggling and whispering into her male friend's ear. “You don't know her. Why would you want to do that?” he asked.
Jason shrugged. “Calm down Sam! I’m just shooting the breeze. Chill out.”
Shaking his head in exhaustion, Sam leant back again. This guy was an energy vampire.
“But…” Jason muttered. “She is pointless. Most people are pointless. No-one really misses them. No-one really likes them. So would it matter if they were gone?”
Before Sam could answer, Jason shot a glance to the bar beyond the drunk couple, beyond the line of three veteran bar flies, to a small old man sitting in the corner sipping from a glass of cheap whiskey. “Like him!”
Sam didn't understand. What had happened to Jason that made him so deeply unpleasant.
“What about him?” Jason leaned forward, “Pathetic, weak and frail. Did you know that many years ago some cultures practiced something called senilicide?”
“Seriously…?”
“No, it's true. The old were just a waste of space, a waste of resources. So the tribes would take these old fuckers out and leave them to die. Keep the wealth for the young and those that contributed to their society. Made them stronger. Natural selection.”
45 minutes gone, 15 more to go before Sam could take his leave.
“The Inuits would cast them out on an iceberg. They would die of starvation or exposure. Tamil Nadu in India? Their oldies would get a nice oil bath and be fed cold coconut water until they would die slowly of high temperature. It's called Thalaikoothal” Jason ranted, watching Sam move uncomfortably. “Like that dude. Look at him.”
Unwilling, but unable not to, Sam glanced over at the lonely old man. He was leaning heavily over his glass, as if defending it, caressing it. His eyes looked empty and deeply sad.
“What’s your point?” Sam snapped. “It’s OK to kill people?”
“Sometimes, it is.”
“Oh fuck off Jason. We don’t kill people. My God, you know how many times I wished I could just kill people. They kill people. We condemn them to hell. Both fucked up, but ours is an entirely different type of fucked up. It's… evil.”
“We’re all a little evil Sam. All of us. Go on, choose one.” Jason placed his glass down on the table before him.
“What?” Sam gasped in disbelief
“Choose one. Just one. Remember, no consequences, no returns. Choose one. If you don't… I will.” Jason looked at Sam. He was serious. He was going to do it.
“Why?” Sam muttered in disgust. “Why would you do that?”
“Senilicide… for the greater good. Just think. Every drink he has is coming from your tax dollars… from your pocket. Time to put him on the iceberg. Feed him some coconut milk.” Jason's voice drifted off into an angry whisper. A cold shiver ran up Sam's spine, as he noticed the familiar changes going on about him.
How would Jason do this? Why? The old man took another swig, completely unaware of the little psycho who was aiming the gun of hell straight at him. This couldn't happen, this was disgusting and immoral.
“No. Jason. I'm warning you not to do it,” Sam glared at him, demanding he turn his eyes away from the target of his rage. “Stop this now.” The room grew colder still.
“It's so easy ain’t it? Soon he will be no-one's problem anymore. Just…” He lifted his fingers before him, clicking them loudly “Gone.”
Talks with Ellie, theories, ideas ran through his mind. Before Sam could think about it, before he was able to consider it enough for it to scare him, he reached out, knocked his drink over and clasped his hand around Jason's wrist. Jason tried to pull away, stopping as Sam shook his head slowly. “Call it off Jason. Calm down. If you don't. I'm going with you. Your choice.”
