by Chase Connor
“Yes.”
There is power in words.
There is power in:
“No.”
Yet, as his parents lay on the floor of their home, beaten and nearly broken, barely hanging onto life, the boy still refusing the offerings of the man in the black hooded cloak, it became apparent that the boy would not be broken. Yes, he might cry and scream out with guilt and fear, but he would do exactly as he had been taught all of his life. He would say:
“No.”
When the man in the black hooded cloak lifted his hand, not to strike the child physically, but to deliver another kind of punishment, the boy’s grandfather intervened. He pleaded with the man to give him a moment with the boy, to talk sense into him. And, under the watchful eye of the man in the black hooded cloak, the grandfather convinced his grandson to say:
“Yes.”
“No” became a “yes.”
And the man in the black hooded cloak was appeased. He gave the boy what he had come to give him. As quickly as he arrived, so he departed. And the grandfather told his grandson that he now had a new task. He was never to use his gift. To do so would make him succumb to the will of the man in the black hooded cloak. So, no matter what, he was to bury his knowledge of his gift far into his subconscious. Forget that it was there. Never speak of it. Never even think of it. And he could still yet be saved from generations of bondage and imprisonment.
The young boy nodded, tears rolling down his cheeks.
In the morning, his parents would be worse for the wear, but they would be alive. And the boy had already begun building the walls in his mind that would trap his secret. He would speak of it to no one. One day, he would forget that he ever knew his secret.
The man in the black hooded cloak had been fooled.
He had achieved what he had come to do, but the boy had proved his will was stronger than even the man in the black hooded cloak knew.
Even if the day came that the gift was remembered, and he spoke of it to anyone, he knew what he would do.
And that would be anything but serve the man in the black hooded cloak.
Power unused has only one thing to do.
Grow.
What once was a seed delivered to the soil by a passing bird becomes a mighty Sequoia that shades the woodland creatures.
What once belonged to no one ends up belonging to everyone.
What once had a particular purpose ends up deciding its own fate.
There is power in stubbornness.
There is power in:
“No.”
Lucas said nothing when I violently threw the book into the backseat floorboard of the car. He said nothing as I fell into the driver’s seat of my car. Even as he climbed into the passenger seat, stoic and resigned, he said nothing. We sat at the Point Worth city limits for longer than necessary, since we knew there was only one way to go—nothing else to consider. When I sighed to myself, my hand reaching for the gearshift, Lucas’ hand found mine. Together, we pulled the gearshift down to reverse. Lucas’ eyes met mine:
“I love you.” He said.
“I love you, too,” I replied. “More than anything else.”
A quick kiss, a lingering glance, and I slowly backed up, turned the car around, and pointed us towards Point Worth once more.
If we couldn’t leave as one, we would stay together.
Maybe that upset Lucas, feeling as though he had conscripted me when my fate had been decided, but it wasn’t his fault. I could have left if I wanted to go. But, without Lucas, my life in Hollywood would have slowly turned into the living nightmare it had been before. I would rather stay in Point Worth. Face whatever was to come. I knew what waited in Hollywood. At least in Point Worth, I knew there was a chance for something better. Even if we had to walk through Hell to get to it.
At least my hand would be holding his in this version of Hell.
Chapter 3
“Well,” Carlita crossed her arms over her chest, “ain’t that some shit?”
She stared down at the long crevice running along the middle of Main Street, steam rising in ribbons from the depths below. No wider than a man’s foot, the crevice was still a concern, especially since there was no way to tell its depth. Of course, anytime such a crack appears in a road oft-traveled, people have reason to be concerned. The ground shifts, too much rain or too little rain, man-made disasters like fracking and drilling, anything can cause a road to develop the beginnings of a canyon. These types of things usually happen in states with frequent or powerful earthquakes, not in small towns in Ohio, though. There was no logical reason for the crack to be threading its way down Main Street, but logic had no home in Point Worth.
“It’s some shit.” Jackson Barkley gave a firm nod as he stood at Carlita’s right. “It’s a whole pile of evil horseshit.”
“Mmm.” Carlita agreed, her eyes not wandering from the steaming crack.
“I don’t like this.” Andrew piped up from her left. “I mean…this is fucked up, right? Even with all things considered, this is some end of days shit, right?”
Carlita slowly turned her head, her eyebrow rising as her eyes met his.
“Sorry.” Andrew shrugged, then shivered.
“He’s coming,” Carlita said simply in Andrew’s direction before turning to look at the gaping crack once again. “We all knew it was an inevitability.”
“You’ve had a little longer to adjust to it than I have,” Andrew muttered.
Jackson Barkley gave a dry chuckle.
“Well,” Carlita fluttered a hand in the air like a butterfly’s wings, “things still have a way of feeling like they creep up on you, baby.”
“What do we do now, Carlita?” Jackson asked. “We could warn people, couldn’t we?”
“They all know this is coming.” She said.
“But,” Mr. Barkley harrumphed, “it still ain’t right to not warn them.”
“They made their bed,” Carlita answered sharply. “Let ‘em lie in ‘em.”
“I suppose.” Jackson sighed.
“We all know whose fault this is,” Andrew grumbled. “The-fucking-Council. And Jason. His pack. Goddamn Esther Jean Wagner.”
Carlita grinned.
“Goddamn Esther Jean Wagner.” She repeated. “You forget Rob and Lucas.”
“It’s not their fault.” Andrew shoved his hands into his pockets.
He had been shaking since he had met Carlita and Jackson on Main Street and had to do something to hide that fact.
“The bird learned a new song to sing.” Jackson nudged Carlita impishly.
She chuckled.
“Shut up.” Andrew rolled his eyes.
In unison, all of their eyes went back to the crack that ran down the middle of the street. The ground rumbled, and the crack spread wider.
“It’s too late for warning or blame, kids.” Carlita tossed her hands up in the air. “And we promised vieja loca that we would do what we could. So…let’s do what we can.”
“We’re all gonna die.” Andrew snorted.
“Maybe not.” She said.
“Well,” Jackson shrugged, “I’m older than most. Present company excluded.”
Carlita patted his arm gently, smiling warmly at the old man.
“Ya’ know,” Jackson said, “I should really be mad at you and Esther Jean right now, Carlita—”
“Yeah?”
“—but I just can’t bring myself to be mad. Y’all did your best, I suppose.”
Carlita gave him a warm smile.
“Well, we’ll see what the dawn brings before we claim it to be our best, shall we?”
He nodded, a smile coming to his lips.
The ground shook again, making all three of them step back as the crack in the street widened a few more inches.
“It’s been nice knowing you fellas,” Carlita said. “Just in case I don’t get to tell you both later.”
“Back atcha.” Jackson croaked.
Andrew merely groaned.
The man in the black hooded cloak knew how to get his way. Promises and threats, torture if those methods did not produce results. Killing those who opposed him was a last resort, but one he gleefully indulged in whenever the mood struck. When the pack—only seven when they arrived—showed up in Point Worth, the man in the black hooded cloak saw his opportunity.
Add to his growing army.
Though he was unable to negotiate for himself, The Council met with the pack alpha. Offered them their greatest desires. The only price was allegiance to Bloody Bones.
The alpha responded swiftly. Courageously. For his pack was few in numbers compared to The Council.
Allegiance would be given to no one but his own.
No matter the offer.
His pack answered to themselves and the greater good.
The Council’s answer was just as swift. At the behest of the man in the black hooded cloak, The Council, much greater in number than the new pack, quickly slaughtered six of the new wolves. The youngest, barely a teen, fled, a few cuts and bruises the only memory of the pack to which he once belonged.
Laughing and braying, the Council screamed at Andrew as he ran, announcing their plans to find those that would serve…him. If he wouldn’t serve, he had no place with them. He was too young for The Council to expend any worry. If other packs wouldn’t join…they’d make their own.
Andrew ran as fast and as far as he could.
He would never join The Council.
Or the man in the black hooded cloak.
But, if the time should come, that someone stood against either, he would answer the call to service.
Even if it meant his own death.
He vowed vengeance.
All he had to do was wait for a sign of hope.
And, when hope arrived, it arrived as a little old lady and a drag queen who were most definitely more than they seemed.
They offered nothing for Andrew’s allegiance except hope. But hope is the greatest payment one can receive. So, Andrew pledged his allegiance. All he had to do for his payment, was lie.
“I’m sorry that I hurt Rob,” Andrew stated blandly as he stood beside Carlita and Jackson on Main Street. “It is the only thing I regret.”
“I know, baby,” Carlita said. “But we’ve all done what we could. What we had to do. To end all of…”
She waved her hand at the crack, even wider than before, almost as wide as a man’s foot is long.
“…this.” Carlita finished. “Rob would forgive you if he understood.”
“He would.” Mr. Barkley gave a firm nod.
“I wish I’d been scarier.” Andrew sighed. “Maybe he would have left the next day. Maybe I should have told him it wasn’t primal instincts. I could have said that I would do it again if he was ever around when I was a wolf the next time.”
“Could-a, should-a, would-a.” Jackson chirped.
“He’s a thick-headed one.” Carlita grinned over at Andrew, though her smile was tight, fearful. “You did an excellent job, baby.”
“Thank you,” Andrew said softly.
“Him leaving would’ve just bought us more time.” Carlita reached down and took Andrew’s hand in hers. “That’s all. Don’t lose hope.”
Andrew smiled down at his hand as Carlita’s fingers laced through his.
“I never have.” He said firmly.
“Good.” Carlita sighed. “It’s all we got.”
The three of them stood and watched as the crack grew wider by another inch, and the ground rumbled once more. Carlita’s other hand went to Jackson’s, and she laced her fingers through his. Together, they all stood and watched. Waited. There was nothing they could really do but wait. They’d all played their parts—some with bigger roles than others—but now there was nothing left for them to do until he arrived. And there was only one way that would play out. Carlita knew what was to come, but she didn’t dare tell her friends. Why scare them any more than was necessary?
Lucas sat rigidly upright in the passenger seat as I drove through the dark, the headlights off. We didn’t want to draw any attention to ourselves unless it was necessary. Of course, it could be argued that driving down a country road in the middle of the night with your lights off will garner attention. However, in the little country town of Point Worth, Ohio, in bum-fuck-nowhere, there would be no one watching for cars with no headlights on driving down old country roads. From the city limits of Point Worth, I had driven twenty-miles-and-hour lower than the speed limit, not wanting to drive too fast so that I could react quickly if anything happened. I didn’t know what we’d find as we entered back into Point Worth, but I wanted to be alert for it if something actually happened.
My mind raced with thoughts about what was going on in my hometown and what was going on with my life. When I had left Point Worth, I thought Oma was my…well, Oma. I thought I was rushing away to become a movie star because I was a wild teen who did what he wanted. I was chasing fame and glory and riches. As the years rolled by, it was apparent that the Hollywood lifestyle—being an international superstar—was not what I wanted. It did nothing to suit me or make me happy. Little by little, my life became a walking Hell where I didn’t know what was real and what was fake. Fame can do that to a person. Having your memories fucked with makes it worse.
Memories.
What exactly from my past was real, and what was fake?
Why did my memories keep changing and shifting?
Why couldn’t I stick a pin in them, tack them down so that I could tell what was really going on in my life? What had gone on in my past?
As I drove us further, I decided that I was going to assume everything I knew about myself and my past was a lie.
Then again, what good would that do? The only thing I could be certain of was that I had no way of knowing if the memories I had were true or not. Everything I thought I knew was up for debate, as far as I was concerned. Was anything I remembered from my childhood true—or was it all the things I was supposed to believe? Of course, I knew one thing for certain—Lucas wasn’t wrong in saying that Oma had everything to do with our fucked-up memories. I didn’t know how and I didn’t know why—but she had done…something…to our memories. But, obviously, she had fucked with the memory of what it was she had done to our memories, too. If we had ever known what that was in the first place.
Because of that, there was no reason to not believe that everything I thought I knew was false. When Lucas slid his hand across the car and laced his fingers through mine, I realized something else. Not everything was a lie. Not every memory was false. I didn’t have whatever gift my boyfriend had, but some things I knew for certain, too, because something deep inside me told me that they were true. Lucas and I did love each other. There was nothing inside of me that doubted that fact. Of course, I had no idea if our memories of falling in love were true, but we stilled loved each other. That was all that mattered. If we had really fallen in love as kids, that was fine. If we had only fallen in love once I moved to Point Worth and we had false memories about everything else, that was fine.
I loved Lucas.
Period.
And I knew he loved me.
Like Lucas, some things I just knew.
“Babe,” Lucas exhaled heavily, “what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my fingers clenching his tightly for a moment. “But we’ll figure it out, right?”
“Right.”
“We can’t go to Oma’s.” I shook my head. “That would…that’s just a bad idea. I mean…I don’t know what she’s up to or why she’s up to whatever she’s doing, but without the Kobolds there—”
“Ernst and the other creatures?”
“Right.” I nodded, one hand steering and the other clenching Lucas’ hand. “Without them, it’s a dangerous place.”
“Yeah,” Lucas whispered. “I don’t really get what you mean by that.”
I sighed.
“I don’t know if this is tru
e or not. Okay?” I glanced at Lucas. He nodded sharply. He understood. “But…the Kobolds were tied to, uh, magic that was, uh, tied to the land there. They’re gone now. The magic is disappearing. If they’re gone, and the magic is disappearing—or gone now—something bad is going to happen. I just don’t know what.”
“That’s…”
“Batshit crazy?” I laughed nervously.
“Well, yes.” Lucas chuckled with me. “But it’s also not much to make a plan on, Rob. If we don’t know what’s going to happen, how do we decide what we should be doing?”
“We know that…he…is coming.”
Lucas breathed out heavily, a moaning, hissing sound.
“What?”
“You said before that I met him, or might have met him, or that the Barkley’s have something to do with him,” Lucas mumbled. “I just don’t remember. I mean…not everything.”
“What do you remember?”
“Anytime you mention him, I can visualize him in his cloak. The hood. Red, glowing, piercing eyes. But I don’t know why or what memory that comes from.” Lucas shivered. “That has to mean that I have seen him before. Met him. Right? Otherwise, how would I be able to visualize him?”
“I don’t know. Is that something maybe you just know so you can see him?”
“No.”
“Then I assume that the Barkleys are just as involved as the Wagners, right?” I nodded. “You must have met him. I think you met him when you were a child. I had a dream…or vision…or something, Lucas. When you were a child.”
I glanced over to find Lucas chewing frantically at his lip.
“We’re close to it.” Lucas looked up. “Let’s just go to my house. Right there.”
Lucas’s hand slipped from mine so that he could point at the road up ahead. Sure enough, the turn to Lucas’ house was coming up. Giving Lucas a nod, I eased my car into the turn and headed towards Lake Erie.
“Will we be safe there?” I asked nervously as the dirt road caused the car to bounce and shimmy. “I mean…a whole window is missing.”
Lucas snorted.
“I just want to get my phone.” He said. “We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, babe.”