by Sawyer Black
The key turned with a deep clang, and Abraham swung the door. Henry flinched back from the wash of emotion billowing out from the other side. Dark thoughts of hunger and despair, and the air smelled like a dirty stable.
Abraham stepped aside and waved everybody through. Henry pulled Adam from his shoulders as he crossed the threshold into a wide stairwell. The door shut behind them, and they came into a long room lit by soft flames in the iron chandeliers hanging from the center of the ceiling. Both sides of the room were lined with bars. Holding cells for Solitude’s criminals.
Aela sat behind a desk through a doorway off to the right. She looked up at the group as they passed, and Henry gave her the same wave he’d given the pie lady. She charged out of the office, blonde hair flowing out behind her, and Henry nearly choked on laughter when she passed Big Ben to keep pace at his side.
“What is my grandfather doing?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“Henry,” Adam shouted, “Pick me up. You’re going too fast.”
Henry scooped the boy up and planted him on his shoulders where the boy took hold of Henry’s horns like a steering wheel as they reached the end of the room.
Abraham stood panting in front of the final cell. He pointed to its interior. “Well?”
Henry shrugged. “Well what?” He turned, and one of the Lost threw itself against the bars, reaching out to grab whatever fell into its grasp. “Holy fuck!”
Abraham stood in front of Henry, addressing him and Adam in turn. “I don’t think these people are truly lost. It’s not a fair name. They’re not beyond redemption. They’re not castoffs. Don’t you see?”
Sister Gladys laid her hand on Henry’s arm. “They’re sick. Like the tree.”
Adam leaned forward, and twisted his gaze down, trying to see into the cell.
“Can I, Henry? Please?”
Henry sighed. “Sure, kid. Why not.” Adam squirmed until Henry let him down.
Henry extended his hand to Abraham. “Give me the key.”
“Abraham?” Big Ben said.
The old man looked over, and the big man shook his head. “Don’t.”
Abraham dropped the key into Henry’s hand.
Big Ben’s jaw bulged, his lips lifting in a snarl. He spun on his heel and marched away.
Abraham put his hand on Henry’s back, urging him forward. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll get over it. He always does.”
Henry nodded, stepping forward to the limit of the Lost’s seeking fingers. “Cover your ears.”
He didn’t look to see if they complied. He drew in a deep breath and roared.
The Lost leapt back in terror, and Henry’s vision wavered from the steam rising up from his breath.
Henry jumped forward and slotted the key into the lock. He twisted and pushed, and the door swung in with a metallic groan. The Lost cowered in the corner.
It was a female. Her tattered clothes shook with her panting breath. Adam stepped out from behind Henry for a better look, and when she saw the boy, her eyes widened. She launched from the corner, her filthy hands twisted into claws.
Henry swung the coffee can up and bashed her in the side of the head.
She dropped to the floor, dazed but not out. She struggled to all fours, shaking her head.
Henry bent and wrapped her in a crushing hug. She wailed and thrashed, and he held her head in a tight grip so she couldn’t twist free and bite him or Adam.
“Get on it, kid! Careful of the mouth!”
Adam crept up and lifted his hand to her face.
She gnashed her teeth, biting the air.
Adam pulled his hand back, and his face hardened. He placed his hand to her cheek and closed his eyes. Like before, he stepped back with a smile, clapping his hands.
The Lost sagged against Henry’s chest. He opened his arms and she fell to the floor, catching herself with her hands. Henry stood, pulling Adam behind him while she dropped to her hip, turning to squint up at the people standing outside her cell.
“Where am I?” she whispered, her skin tone going from grey to a healthier pale, her voice ragged from screaming.
Sister Gladys rushed in, falling to her knees next to the woman healed by an angel’s touch. She looked at Adam in awe as she passed.
Abraham lowered to one knee and pulled Adam into a hug. “Thank you,” he said into the boy’s hair. “But can you do it one more time, son?”
The boy looked up for permission, but Henry was already nodding. “Let’s do it, kid.”
Abraham stood and turned to the cell directly across from them. A shirtless man lying on a metal cot was breathing in shallow breaths, his skin turning black from tendrils of darkness bleeding under his jaw.
Abraham took the keys back from Henry. “We’ve never captured a Ravager alive before. They always turn black and burn away, sometimes taking whole buildings with them.” He threw the cell door open and walked up to the dying man to stand looking down into his face. He wrinkled his nose and waved a hand in front of his face. “Just like the rot in the Dreaming Tree. If we can find out where they are coming from, maybe we can fix them, or extinguish the threat.”
Henry followed with Adam trailing along. The man on the cot was a giant, with thick arms much longer than the rest of his frame might suggest. Thick stumps of legs splayed apart, the pointed toes of his boots aiming out to either side. Henry’s eyes swept his body, and when they reached the tattoo on the Ravager’s chest, he snarled and flung himself back. The thorny F and C surrounded by the viney O.
A member of the Order From Chaos cult. Here in Solitude.
“Fuck this!” His eyes skated over the dark runes crawling from the main symbol. Then Henry closed his eyes. “No. You’re not doing this.” he opened his eyes and pointed. “You’re not healing that fucker, I don’t give a shit.”
Abraham looked on with confusion and concern at war on his face. “Henry, we need information. This man may know something of importance.”
“I don’t give a shit! Adam’s not gonna get his hands dirty on this … Adam?”
The boy had stepped around him, his face slack with curiosity. Before Henry could stop him, he laid his hands on the man’s shoulder, and the Ravager bucked under his palms, groaning in pain.
Adam threw himself back, shaking his hands as if trying to get feeling back in his fingers. The Ravager settled, and the black traveled down his arms, the skin blistering as it spread.
Henry pushed Abraham aside, and the boy slid his toy sword free. It burst into white fire, and burned an arc into Henry’s vision as Adam swung it down with a cry of effort.
Flames splashed down the Ravager’s chest, and the blade passed through his neck into the cot’s metal frame. The head sizzled as it rolled away, and Adam pulled the blade free. Just a shiny piece of plastic. The black faded from the Ravager’s skin.
That’s one way to heal a guy.
Adam slid the sword back into its tin scabbard and held his arms up, his face twisting with tears.
Henry pushed past Abraham and picked the boy up. Adam pressed his face into Henry’s neck and cried. After a few hitching sobs, Adam leaned back and wiped his eyes dry. “I know where my father is.”
Henry pushed a stray hair out of the boy’s face. “Well, let’s go get him.”
Chapter Seven
Henry held his pack open with his dented coffee can hand and stuffed a rolled-up tee into the bottom next to Adam’s bible and a box of Peacock matches. He looked to the side for the next thing to pack, but the shirt had been the last. He closed the pack and studied the clocks above the bed.
Adam bounced on the bed behind him, the squeaky springs substituting for the silent passing of seconds.
How long have I been here?
Time passed differently in Nowhere. Slower, and with no turning calendar. Where was Samantha? Had she married Mike Stone? Were they trying for a baby as hard as she and Henry had?
Henry was sure Pastor Owen was still looking for the boy, and w
ith time moving at full speed on Earth, he was more steps ahead than Henry could count.
Adam dropped to his butt and scooted next to Henry, lifting his red arm over his head to lean into Henry’s ribs. “Do you think he’ll still remember me?”
“Will who remember you, buddy?”
“My dad. Do you think he’ll like me?”
Henry slid the boy to the floor and turned him toward his eyes. Blue and gold, swirling with power, brimming with tears. His silvery hair nearly to shoulders that were a couple inches taller than when they met. Regret squeezed Henry’s heart.
Stop growing, kid. Stay just the way you are.
“Of course he’ll like you,” Henry said. “He’ll love you. The same as me. Only more, since he’s your dad.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. Besides, homely as you are, you’ll need all the love you can get.”
The boy giggled music. Like sunshine on Henry's face. “I’m not homely.”
“Oh, you’re hideous. Breaking mirrors and shit.”
“Sister Gladys said I was a flower.”
“Yeah, but she’s old. Probably half blind.”
“Yeah. I bet she’s like fifty.”
A throat cleared and Henry snapped his head up. Adam dropped into a crouch, his small hand reaching for a little toy sword.
Aela leaned in the doorway with her hands hidden behind her back, smiling and shaking her head. Hair tumbled to either side of her face like Abraham’s, and light from the hallway beamed through it like a halo. “I’ve got a surprise for you, Adam.”
The boy stood up straight, his face opening with an anxious smile.
She pulled her hands around, and each one held a small cowboy boot.
“My boots!” Adam bounced forward to take them from her hands, then wrapped her right thigh in a hug, pressing his joyous grin into her hip.
Aela smiled and ruffled his hair.
He dropped right to the floor to put the boots on.
She shrugged. “One of the Sisters found a pod dangling right off the floor, and those were in it. We all knew who dreamed them.”
Adam stood and stuck them out one at a time, like a little awkward model. “Can I go show Abraham?”
“Sure, buddy.”
He squeezed past Aela and shot down the hall, his boot heels sounding like the old man’s cane. Once he was out of sight, she turned back and crossed her arms. “How long have you been a demon?”
“I don’t know. About a year, maybe.”
She dropped her arms and walked to the chair in front of him, her leather outfit creaking with every step. She sat and pushed the hair away from her face. “How did it happen?”
Henry sighed and tossed the pack into the corner next to the door. “I used to be famous. Rich. Had millions of fans all over the world. That’s why they targeted me.”
For a second, Henry figured they were burglars. They were dressed the same, in black pants, shirts, and gloves. Except they wore no masks. Immediately, Henry wished he’d not let Sam talk him out of buying a gun. Now he was standing at the top of the stairs, helpless.
“To feed the chaos. Another little piece of ground in their fight against Heaven. So, they killed my daughter. Shot me in the back of the head. Raped my wife right there on the cold tile. I wanted carpet, but Samantha really liked the look of natural stone.”
“You killed my daughter. MotherFUCKER!”
“Your daughter?” Peterson’s face fell in thought, only to brighten with memory. “Henry Black? The comedian?” He laughed and slapped his knee. “Mr. Punchline, his very self? Sorry, that wasn’t me. But I did show up soon after and put my cock in your wife’s bum while you bled out on her feet.”
“I was so pissed. But, I was pissed for me. They had taken everything from me. When a demon in Nowhere offered me a chance at revenge, he told me I could see my family again. But he never told me how. And I never asked.” Henry shook his head. “My daughter dead. My wife an alcoholic. And still, I was pissed because I’d been tricked. I killed everybody in my way, and those souls taken in retribution were traded for the soul of the demon’s lover in Hell. I was selfish, and for my selfishness, my daughter was sent to Hell in that woman’s place.”
Henry closed his mind to the memories and sniffed back his tears. He made his hand into a gun and pointed it at his face. “And this is my punishment. The form of a demon. This monster.” He lowered his hand to his lap. “Then I met Adam. The man behind the Order? The man that betrayed my family? He was looking for that boy to give him power over God. How can you even imagine something like that?”
Again he shook his head. “To not only find out that Heaven and Hell are real, but then discover that you’re in the middle of a war between them? All I could do was ask why me? Even after the demon who tricked me asked me to kill Adam. Gave me that blade I showed you, and for a second … I thought that if I did it, I’d go to Hell and maybe I could find Amélie.”
The tears came anyway, and Henry let them fall. “That’s why I deserve to be a monster. Thoughts like that prove I am one. Might as well look like one, too.”
He looked up, and her face was impassive, the muscles in her jaw bunching under her temples. Henry shrugged and spread his arms. “But what are you gonna do, huh? It is what it is, right? Everything happens for a reason and all that bullshit?” He chuckled and wiped his cheeks. “So, what about you? What made you become a bitch?”
Her eyes narrowed and she tipped her head.
Holy shit. She’s actually gonna tell me.
The door frame creaked, and she snapped her head around, her eyes wide.
Henry followed her gaze, and Big Ben leaned through the doorway, a meaty hand on either side holding him up. “Abraham wants to talk to us before we leave. Let’s go.”
Ben pushed off and left without seeing if they followed.
Henry opened his mouth for a joke about finishing too fast, but Aela was already up. She turned into the hall, and Henry closed his mouth with a snap.
He grunted as he stood, then grunted again when he bent over to pick up the backpack. He cast a final look at the wall of clocks over his bed, and walked out without closing the door behind him.
Aela stood with her arms crossed and her hips cocked to one side.
Big Ben squatted next to a black bag, sliding supplies in with exaggerated care.
“You know,” Henry said, “we can do this on our own.”
“No, the boy told Abraham that if we helped you all, then he promised to come back and help us heal the Lost or whatever else Abraham thinks will save us all.”
“Oh, did he?” Henry asked, annoyed that Adam was making deals without consulting him.
The two spear men from the other day stood to the side, leaning on their weapons with a lazy competence that made Henry want to polish his coffee can.
Whooping laughter from behind the Dreaming Tree.
Abraham jogged out with Adam on his shoulders. The boy held the old man’s cane above him. Abraham jumped the last root and lifted Adam over his head then set him on his feet. He stood with his face flushed and his eyes bright.
Aela smiled and crouched to her bag, digging through it like a woman in need of distraction.
“Well,” Abraham said, clapping his hands. “Gifts. I want to give you all a small token before you leave Solitude. Before you leave me.” He reached out, and Adam handed him the cane. Abraham smiled, and he looked at Sister Gladys as she emerged from the hallway holding a small bundle of something.
Abraham took the bundle and pulled the corners of the cloth to the side. Six glowing bulbs, like miniature ornaments. Twinkling blue. “These are Dream Lights. Made from the sap of the Dreaming Tree collected by our very own Benjamin. Distilled using the mist that surrounds the Forgotten. They won’t light your way, but they will repel the Lost. We have seen that they are truly lost souls. Sickened by nightmares. Let us steer these wayward children back into health, and not to the point of a knife. The Sisters of Solitude
make the lights, and they should do their job for a time.”
Sister Gladys took them one at a time and delivered a light to each of them, starting with Aela. Henry came last. A brown leather thong let it hang from his neck. Henry wondered if the people here dreamed about cows to make leather, or just the skin and meat.
Faint blue, the Dream Light pulsed into his palm, and he slid it over his head. The strap tangled on his horns, and he heard Big Ben snort laughter while he puzzled out how to get it on. Henry finally got it figured out, and dropped the light behind his shirt to rest against his chest. A tiny point of heat over his heart.
“Good,” Abraham said. “I don’t like the idea of letting this boy go …”
“We’ve been over this,” Big Ben said.
Abraham nodded and held his hand up. “Yes, and I agree. The children of Solitude and Solitude itself are more important, but I just wish … perhaps we should send more people with you?”
Big Ben shook his head. “We’ve been over this, too. A smaller group can stay hidden. I’m going with them. Kasey and Solomon are going. Aela can handle herself.” He pointed at Henry. “And … this guy’s got jokes.”
Hey, fuck you!
Big Ben sliced his hand at Adam. “And you’ve seen what he can do. I think we’re safer with him than he is with us.”
Abraham leaned on his cane. “I know all that, Ben. I just can’t help believing that we’re not doing right by this child.” He gave his head a weary shake, his hair falling forward. He walked to Aela like a man who needed that cane and stood looking down into her eyes.
Tears on both faces.
Abraham rested a hand on her shoulder. “This quest may mean more to our people as a whole, but you have the most to lose. Like the others born here, if you die, you will never receive passage to Heaven. Your mother was able to find the path to Salvation, but until Solitude is back in His grace, you will never be offered the light of redemption.”
“Maybe. But you’re assuming I deserve it.”