Except.
She looked at the reeler. Except that time was not as fixed as she had believed an hour ago. Time was fluid. Like death, a human could move more than one direction through it.
The reeler controlled the one thing that she needed. Time. She remembered his desperate attempt to turn back the clock. Would he still try? If instead of stopping him, she allowed him to do so, could she save Mason?
But the reeler was a maniac. He was unpredictable, cruel. He didn’t deserve mending. And right now, he had no power to hurt anyone ever again. She had stopped him once and for all. If she mended him, what evils would she unleash on the world? Could she bring herself to kill him again, now that she knew the darkness that filled the soul after such an act?
She looked away from the reeler. The kitchen was in disarray. Pirate huddled, whining, in the corner. The cards were scattered across the table and the floor.
Only the bright flowers in their vase sat untouched. They drew her eye like a beacon. For Mason, she had to try.
Charlotte’s back protested as she reached for the upper cupboard by the sink where Arthur had always kept his pistol. She’d left it there all these years, mostly as a reminder of him. Now, its weight was reassuring as she lifted it down and checked that it was loaded. Charlotte moved back across the room, toward the reeler. She eased herself down beside him.
His face was smooth in death, with none of the anguish she had seen when he was alive. She laid the gun on her lap, and reached for the reeler’s still form. As she touched him, Charlotte felt the damage she’d done. Her stomach turned.
Stitch by stitch, she mended it. As she always had. She knew that if she had found him this way, she would be horrified at whoever had done this to him. She realized how little she had really known of each of her patients. The potential for both good and evil was inside every one of them, and though she had deemed them deserving of another chance, what had she really known? There were some very good people and some very bad ones, but most spent their lives somewhere in the middle, struggling through, both building and destroying. Even the best had the power to hurt, and even the worst, like the reeler, had the power to help.
She felt his consciousness returning, and held tight as time began to swirl around her again.
Pirate took flight from the corner of the room, across the table, returning gracefully to his usual seat. The cards arced back onto the table in a beautiful reversed cascade. The light from outside grew incrementally brighter. The chair righted itself, moved back to the table.
As Charlotte put the last stitch in place, the reeler returned with a jolt. There was deep confusion in his eyes as he wrestled desperately backward through time. Charlotte felt herself slip out of his timestream as he rose and moved across the room.
When time stabilized again, he was just turning away from Mason. The child had just fallen.
The reeler was disoriented. He didn’t move as steadily toward Charlotte as he had in their first encounter. He stopped, a hand on the table, and shook his head.
Charlotte didn’t wait. With strength born of fear, she fought her way to her feet and leveled the gun at him. The reeler blinked, and Charlotte felt time beginning to flow backward.
“No,” she said, using the stray-dog tone again. This time he listened. “You don’t want to do that.”
“What do you mean?” the reeler asked.
“Go back in time and you’ll find yourself dead. I just brought you back.”
She was moving now, scooting along with the counter at her back. The reeler looked nervous, and his voice shook as he spoke, “Why would you do that? I’m going to kill you.”
“Maybe. But not before I tend to my mending.” She passed by him and, keeping her eyes and the gun on him, moved to Mason. She crouched, wondering if she could mend without looking at the child. She had to try. Stretching her aching left hand tenderly across the boy’s head, she used her right to keep the gun pointed at the reeler.
“This is crazy. You crazy old woman. You can’t beat me.”
Mason stirred.
There was a new kind of strength in Charlotte’s voice as she responded. It was one born of experience. She found herself liberated from all her fears. Death, that black door she’d feared for so long, simply led into another room. And Arthur was there.
A rush of confidence came from that knowledge. And another from the knowledge that even at her age she had found new skills she didn’t know she had. Her power was greater than she had imagined. She didn’t have a great strength or laser vision, but she could stop people from hurting others. She could, if she had to, fight again.
“I have already beaten you. And I will again. But I needed you. I needed these moments back and you gave them to me. Thank you for that.”
Mason sat up and was still and quiet in his confusion. Charlotte couldn’t keep herself from smiling. His brown eyes again shone with questions. He was restored. She touched his cheek, then stood again, groaning slightly.
She kept the gun steady. The reeler’s eyes moved around the kitchen. Charlotte expected him to attack again, and was surprised when he stepped backward, toward the door, instead of lunging at her. There was something new in his eyes—fear. He barely looked at the gun. Charlotte realized that he was not afraid of it, but of her.
“This isn’t over,” he said, as he moved toward the door, “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be ready,” Charlotte replied. He blinked and twisted the doorknob. The golden light of the setting sun spilled into the kitchen, blinding Charlotte for a moment as she watched the reeler fade into its brilliance.
A Word from Josi Russell
Thank you for reading “Fade.” As with every story I write, this one was an adventure for me. I love exploring familiar human relationships and conflicts in unfamiliar contexts. My favorite thing about writing superhero stories is that through every hero’s story I discover new things about the people around me.
People are always surprising me. “Fade” was born from my strong belief that everyone is more than we see on the outside. In fact, I think that’s why we love superhero stories—they allow us to see behind the mask and find hidden strengths we might otherwise miss.
If you’d like to explore more of my work, please visit my website: www.josirussellwriting.com Where you can learn more about my bestselling novels: the Caretaker Chronicles series, The Empyriad Series, and more short stories. If you’d like free stories and updates on my newest releases, please sign up for my Readers’ Club!
More books by Author Josi Russell:
The Bestselling Caretaker Chronicles
The Empyriad Series
A SHORT WORD FROM THE PRESENTER
As a pastor, I often get the chance to present things. “I present to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Happily-Married.” Weekly, I do something called presenting the gospel. I present high school and college graduates with Bibles, and new mothers with clothing and diapers for their beautiful new additions. Presenting is a part of my everyday life and I would have it no other way.
There are two things I love to do in (well, there surely are more than that), pastor people and write books. Pastoring is the art of doing life with people. Getting to know and love people, despite their faults, personality differences and idiosyncrasies. When I think about melding those together, the result is short story anthologies. What better way to experience camaraderie with other authors than to work intimately together to create something beautiful to present to the world?
To be able to give something to humanity is an honor and a privilege. And this collection is no different. It was with great joy and excitement that I have presented to you, the reader, this collection of short stories. I hope that it has enriched your life, made you smile, and made you think.
If you enjoyed your reading experience, you might also enjoy volume two, World Domination: A Supervillain Anthology. While you’re there, I would encourage you to take a moment and review this book on Amazon. If everyone w
ho loved our books and stories left reviews we would find ourselves in a much different boat. Reviews are the lifeblood of a book—they can make or break an author’s career. Even if you didn’t love the stories found within, we still want you to share an honest review.
Thank you for your time. We all know how valuable it is. May the God of the Universe bless you.
With Abounding Love,
Steve Beaulieu
Would you consider reviewing our collection on Amazon?
Reviews are vital to the life of a book. A book without reviews is a dead book. The more honest reviews a book earns, the better the chances of it being successful. Even if your review is…less than savory, leave it! We don’t expect that this book will appeal to everyone, just be honest when you write your review and, if you write a critical review, please make it helpful to other readers who might be interested in the collection. This book represents food on the table for authors. It represents artistry and the expression of ideas and ideals. It is our lifeblood and we share it, willingly and excitedly, and we want to know what you think.
So please, write a review.
If you loved the book, please spread it around to your friends and on Facebook. Word of mouth is still the best form of advertising and we hope to put a thousand words in your mouth about It’s A Bird! It’s A Plane!
You can also purchase the sister volume World Domination: A Supervillain Anthology.
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