Otherworld Soldiers- Rise of the Apocalypse

by Fox Lancet

  “Frailty!” Whiskey pulled her arm away and smacked her friend across the shoulder. Frailty stepped away, bent over in laughter.

  “I’m sorry, but it is so true!”

  “You! See if I ever walk your tipsy-ass home again.” Whiskey’s cheeks blushed and she could not look back at Nefarion, she pressed a hand to her face, attempting to cool the heat that had settled there.

  Nefarion watched impassively, unsure how to unpack the discourse between the two females. Fucked her so good? Tipsy-ass? The lack of understanding seemed evident to Whisky when she finally looked at him and noticed his apathy toward the situation, one that most men would have at least chuckled about or even rolled eyes at.

  “You have no idea what we’re talking about, do you?” she asked, almost relieved. Nefarion shook his head. She sighed, relaxing. “I should have guessed. Hunter was just as clueless about shit like that.”

  The comment elicited a glower from Nefarion and Whisky immediately threw up her hands defensively. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. He just acted like he wasn’t from this country sometimes.”

  “And did you ever ask him?” Frailty had finally composed herself and chimed in.

  Whiskey eyed Nefarion, questioning him without asking. He cocked a brow at her.

  “Yes, we are from…somewhere else.”

  She frowned, not fully satisfied with the answer, but accepting it nonetheless.

  “Hey, Whiskey! Frailty! Wait up! Shit, I thought you two would have been long gone!” A third female in equally daunting shoes came shuffling down the alley behind them. Nefarion caught a familiar scent and pushed past the two women before him. The third was another brunette and she was lank compared to the first two—more toned—females. She was too busy watching her feet to notice Nefarion until they were nose to nose.

  “Whoa, hello, who’s your friend? Down, boy.” She managed to not fall on her ass, though, as she stumbled backward, he steadied her with a grip around one of her tiny arms. He loosened it when he felt it might snap beneath his grasp. She giggled and he drew in a drowning breath of her scent.

  “Saliea. You have an air of Saliea about you.” He searched her face while awaiting a response. The female gave him a baffled look.

  “Hi, I’m Cherry. What the hell is your name?” She straightened herself and attempted to break from him. His grip tightened when she made no remark about Saliea.

  “I am Nefarion. Now, do you know Saliea?”

  “Hey, chillax, doll, maybe if you let her go, she could answer your question.” Frailty stepped into his vision, speaking light-heartedly and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He regarded her curtly before looking back at Cherry, who raised her skinny brows, silently agreeing to the suggestion. His hand popped open and he stood straight and took half a step back.

  “Thank you. Yes, I am acquainted with Ms. Saliea. Bad news for you though: Sammy-poo is all broke up about her runnin’ off with some freaky random. Haven’t seen or heard from her for three days. I’ll let ya know if I hear anything.” She threw some of her dark hair over her shoulder.

  “Right, of course,” he murmured to himself. “Whiskey, do you know where I might find Hunter?” He wheeled on the heel of his boot to face the burgundy-haired woman. She sneered at the mention of Hunter.

  “Not really. I could tell you where he frequented, but the place isn’t there anymore, for obvious reasons. Shut down after the little massacre your brothers preformed. The best I could do is tell you where the area is.”

  “That is all I really need. However, I would much prefer if you might lead me there. I am not familiar with any area here.”

  “Do you have a car?”

  “I do not.”

  “Well, Nefarion,” she spoke his name with uncertainty, “me and the girls are pretty tuckered out. Maybe if you want to meet somewhere tomorrow, and I’m more comfortably dressed, we can see about goin’ for a walk.” She linked her arm in Frailty’s and Cherry followed suit on the other side.

  Nefarion grimaced. He was impatient, but understood. After moving with Saliea for a time, he realized that humans needed a mass quantity of unconscious rest.

  “Whatever you require to aid me,” he managed through clenched teeth.

  “’Kay, meet me at that coffee shop tomorrow, say around noon?” She lifted her chin in the direction of a shop across the street and a block down. Nefarion followed the gesture and gave her a clipped nod.

  “What time is it now?” he wondered, not accustomed to keeping such a close calculation on the time, though he could do it without all of the devices the humans had contrived.

  “A little after three. See ya tomorrow?”

  He nodded again and watched them shuffle away, half-naked, curved, pretty. His head cocked to the side as he appreciated the attractive spectacle shrinking away down the orange-washed sidewalk.

  * * *

  The room was shrouded in night and beams of frozen white parking lights slanted through the bay windows on the surrounding walls. Saliea blinked through her sticky vision. Somehow her head had ceased throbbing and felt clear. Kaleb must not have been near.

  She sat up, briefly forgetting about the restraints until they tugged back at her crudely. Obeying, she scooted her right hip up to the pipe to give the rope some slack.

  Utter silence and emptiness met her awareness. Saliea noted this cognizance with perplexity; she could not remember ever being attuned to either sense so clearly. She had sat in silence and had felt lonely before, but this was different. Her perception of both was that there was no one in the immediate vicinity.

  “Okay,” she drawled, still slightly vexed by the foreign consciousness. “Stupid Seraph,” she added and dug under her shirt. Stitched into the left, back side of her bra was a tiny sheathe that housed a keen, paper thin blade, held in place by a bit of Velcro. A girl could never be too careful, and she preferred to be prepared. Saliea freed it and began slicing at the coarse, dense rope. Even though the blade was small compared to the rope, it cut through in less than a minute. She repeated the process on the knot over her other wrist before she was fully liberated.

  Saliea jumped to her feet, walking briskly toward some single standing drywall. On the other side, a door came into view on a far wall. She picked her pace up to a light jog, all the while pulling her hair back like she had been attempting to do earlier while still in Kaleb’s presence.

  Once she had slipped through the door, Saliea had to bound down six flights of stairs, observing that she had been detained in a vacant building, freshly built, or not quite finished.

  When she found the front main glass doors locked, Saliea wasted no time searching out a useful tool to assist in her release. A loose, manageable steel beam played the role of smashing through the lower pane of one of the front doors. It took three swings before it shattered into tiny crystals and poured onto the floor like sand. Saliea was through the breach in a breath and was sprinting across the desolate lot with no thought of her direction, just the knowledge that she had to be far out of reach before her captor had any inkling that she was gone.

  12

  Acquiesce

  Lila was perched soberly on a barstool pushed up to the kitchen counter. One leg was bent up into her chest while the other skinny appendage dangled and vacillated freely. Her brown hair was pulled back rashly and the circles under eyes were dark. Her attire consisted of tiny white shorts and a baggy white t-shirt. She had been leaned over a bowl of cereal and a fashion magazine when Saliea came rushing through the front door, a straight shot from the kitchen.

  The dancer flipped her spoon, startled by the intrusion. Milk and colorful cereal took rout through the air and splayed onto the white countertop. Lila sat erect and stared dumbfounded at Saliea.

  “You’re home,” she observed. Saliea came down the hall and collapsed into a wooden chair at the kitchen table.

  “Yes,” she breathed. Perspiration glittered on her forehead and her entire face was flushed. “What time is i
t?”

  “Eleven thirty.” She turned around on the barstool to face Saliea. “What happened to you?”

  “Nothing you would believe. Is Sam home?” She crossed her arms on the table and rested her head on them while she watched Lila.

  “Yea, I think he’s still sleeping. He’s been so busy moping since you took off the other day. Speaking of which, I ran into a friend of yours after work this morning. Real peach.” She pushed up the over-sized sleeve of her t-shirt to reveal a mild bruise on the twig of her upper left arm. Saliea sat up promptly and looked at Lila eagerly.

  “Who was it? Where did you see him? When exactly?”

  “Hm, can’t quite recall his name. He was hot, though. Really fuckin’ tall, even in my platforms he was taller. He was halfway between the club and Frailty’s place off Santa-Fe.” Lila turned back to her cereal.

  “What time? Was it Nefarion or Hunter or Syler?” Saliea was practically falling out of her seat.

  “Oh yeah, it was Nefarion, and he was asking about Hunter.” She took a spoonful of crunchy cereal and smiled candidly at Saliea, cheeks full. Saliea rolled her eyes. “You know these guys well? I’ve never heard you talk about them before. Whiskey said she fucked one of ‘em, said it was like ecstasy,” Lila said after swallowing. She turned back toward Saliea, her legs spread and swinging on either side of the stool. “I’d totally fuck Nefarion.” She was about to continue when her roommate interrupted.

  “Shut! Up!” Saliea stood, but had to catch herself on the table for her strength was diminished from the distance she had come in the last few hours. Her eyes bore into the dancer. “You are not going to fuck him. He is mine. Now just answer the goddamned question.”

  Properly admonished, Lila’s eyebrows arched and her widened eyes diverted from Saliea.

  “It was before four, that’s the best I can tell you. And since when did you start claiming boyfriends?” Saliea ignored the question and went back down the hallway to mount the stairs to the bathroom.

  After a hot shower, Saliea bee-lined to her bedroom.

  “Saliea!” Sam threw himself from his room to intercept Saliea, who was still wrapped in a black towel, her hair sticking to her shoulders and neck.

  “Hey, Sam.”

  “That’s all I get? A ‘hey’? I didn’t think you were ever coming back!” He tossed his arms around her and carried her to her bedroom in his embrace. “What happened? What’s going on? How are you here?” His interrogation began the moment he set her on her feet.

  “Sam, I am beyond exhausted and I probably have a number of concussions. So would you be a doll and grab me some Aleve and I’ll tell you as much as I can before I pass out?” He nodded enthusiastically and was back as quickly as he had left.

  Saliea popped the pills and had Sam turn around while she pulled on a pair of red sweats and a comfy black t-shirt. She started her story where Kaleb had entered the picture, skipping the plans Nefarion had mentioned to her. Curling into her bed, she detailed the speed and physical aversion of the addition to her recent drama. Sam listened raptly.

  “Wait, you have hidden weapons strapped to your underwear?” Sam interrupted when Saliea had gotten to the factors of her ultimate escape. She nodded warily. “That is so hot!” Saliea gave him a tired smile and finished her story.

  “Damn, that building is miles away Saliea! Why didn’t you call?” Her eyelids were getting burdensome.

  “Albino fucker confiscated it. Sam, I need to find them again. I need to find Nefarion.” Her voice was trailing off, but she pushed the lethargy away to plead with Sam. He looked torn, sitting at the edge of her bed, his features creased in indecision.

  “None of this is any good, can be any good, Saliea.” He kept his eyes lowered until Saliea reached over and touched his arm.

  “It’s finally my time, Sam. The reason for my existence in a world I thought I never belonged. I am important, I have purpose. Something I thought I made up in my head just to make it through each day. I’m sorry you feel so strongly for me, you never should have and that’s why I didn’t ever encourage it.” Her eyes shut and it seemed as though she drifted off, her head sinking into her pillow heavily. Though, her eyes peeked open again and she blinked several times. “After spending just minutes with Nefarion, I realized that my soul doesn’t belong to me; I belong to my soul. And she is devoted to Nefarion’s. All those pulling sensations I had when they were near, but unseen, it was her trying to go to them. The day Nefarion crossed, she tore from me completely, that time I collapsed in the backyard. But she and I cannot be without the other. She is stuck with me, but it’s okay, I’ll give her whatever she wants, I’m merely a conscious shell.” Saliea’s eyes shut again and this time they didn’t open again.

  Sam placed a hand on her warm cheek and remained staring at her in the same position for many minutes. He sighed and kissed her gently on the lips.

  “I love your conscious shell. If only your soul could have found a different shell to host.”

  When Saliea woke a few hours later, Sam was propped on her vanity stool, leaning against the wall next to the bedroom door. He was focused on a sketchpad resting on his right arm. Brown roots were appearing at his scalp before the short length of his black-dyed hair. His long lashes cast small pointy shadows over his round cheekbones.

  Saliea grasped the iron rods of her bed’s headboard and pushed, stretching her entire body the length of the mattress. She groaned and sighed.

  “Fuck,” she drawled. When she peered over, Sam was surveying her casually. “Aw, are you guarding me, Sammy?” She lifted herself at the hips and threw her legs off the mattress. He merely lifted a brow at her in answer.

  “Hey, did I miss the Cannibal Corpse show?” she wondered eagerly.

  “It’s not ‘til tomorrow night.” He closed the sketchbook and slid the pencil behind his ear.

  “Perfect. If they don’t come looking for me there then I can only assume it was all a dream.” Disregarding Sam’s presence, she turned her back and threw her t-shirt off and began to delve through a pile of clothes on the floor at the end of her bed. “Ah-ha!” She pulled a deep red bra from the mound and donned it. When she twirled toward her vanity, she noticed Sam’s slack jaw, his eyes stuck to her hourglass shape.

  “This one has three sheathes in it,” she mentioned like he had inquired. For that reason, she rummaged through one of the drawers of her vanity, setting out tiny handle-less blades to add to her bra until there were three.

  Once all the blades were secured, she dropped her sweats and revealed hot-pink lace panties. “Well, these will never do,” she reproved with a shake of her head, turning back to the same pile of clothes—apparently clean, just never put in their place. This time she came up with a pair of black and red boy-shorts. She stuck her thumbs in the hem of her pink panties, but paused. Sam was still staring at her. Saliea lifted her brows at him and with one hand made an exasperated twirling motion. He rolled his eyes and turned around in the stool.

  Saliea continued to dress, zipping on a black, free-flowing skirt that fell mid-thigh. The violet tank top she pulled over herself was cut low, revealing the flattering curve and shadows of her C-cup cleavage. Sitting on her bed, she tugged on a pair of steel-toe boots that stopped just above her ankles.

  “You’re leaving again? You just got back.” Sam had twisted back around in his seat. Saliea had shoved on the other boot and was tying them. The leather of the boots was scarcely scuffed, a newer pair, and the material was stained red. She didn’t answer him right away and went back to the same drawer in her vanity, pulling out slightly larger blades with slim grips. Two disappeared into each of the inner ankles of her boots.

  Saliea stood and gave Sam a faded smile.

  “I’m going to go for a walk. If I don’t find what I’m looking for, I’m going to work all day tomorrow. You can come hang out if you want. But after Cannibal Corpse, I’ll probably be gone.”

  “Not if I stop you from going.”

  Saliea lift
ed a thin black brow at him, followed by the corner of her mouth.

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  Sam stared imperviously at her, his lip curling.

  “Don’t be a bitch.” Her eyes lit at this and she shrugged, walking to the door. Sam grabbed at her arm but she whipped it away and shot a glare over her shoulder. Then she was gone.

  Saliea’s adventure across town had reaped no benefits. Not a feeling and not a sighting. She even made a point to swing by Lila’s work at the odd hours of the morning.

  “I forgot to tell you that Whiskey was supposed to meet Nefarion at the coffee shop down the street today around noon.” Lila had finished her last stage dance and was lounging provocatively on the bar where Saliea had taken up residence. Saliea surprised herself by not tearing the stripper from her half-naked pose and throwing her to the floor. Rather she mumbled discreetly.

  “Next time, keep that shit to yourself.” Then, keeping her eyes on a nearby stage, she stated more clearly, “Because next time I’ll be sure to break all of your toes, which we both know would simultaneously obliterate your income.” Lila gave her a sad, disconcerted gaze and frowned. “Do you have her number?” The feigned height of her roommate slid into a stool next to Saliea and she shook her head.

  “Nah, Whiskey’s only been workin’ here for a few weeks, haven’t worked with her enough to deem her more than a co-worker. In fact, I don’t even know her real name yet.”

  “You’re pointless, you know that?” Saliea stood from the leather barstool.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Lila’s face crinkled in anger.

  “Figure it out.” Saliea took her leave. Instead of going home, she headed for the shop where she worked. Nefarion had found her there once, so maybe he would think to try his luck in the same place. Though, in the back of her mind, she knew he must have assumed she was still with his enemy. “Kaleb,” she condemned in a mumble as she unlocked the back door of the shop.