by Kate Sander
"GAAAAAHHHHH!" The little girl crashed through the brushes, sending the rabbit scampering away into the forest and leaving Tomo's snare empty. The ten-year old fell to the ground in a fit of giggles as Tomo hopped down from the fir tree.
"Really now," Tomo said, trying to hide her smile. "Was that really necessary Akira?"
"I win!" Akira cackled. "I snared three rabbits, how many did you snare?" She held up her prizes.
"That would have been three," Tomo muttered. Akira snorted and skipped away.
"The great Kogo Tomo Hachiban, the Empress of Blood, was out hunted by a ten year old," she called over her shoulder, following the path up the hill to their homestead.
Tomo jogged and caught up with her. "We must be more calm and humble in victory than we are in defeat."
Chastised, the little girl hung her head. Tomo smiled at her and hugged her close with an arm over her shoulder. "But you're right. Akira the Mighty has out hunted the Blood Empress. Something to tell your friends."
Akira smiled and Tomo's heart melted. The girl was adorable. Big brown eyes, long brown hair, dressed in a long black skirt and a loose fitting robe tied with a belt. Spunky, sassy, and full of life, it hadn't taken Tomo long to fall in love with the girl. She was the exact kind of girl that Tomo had wished to raise with her wife.
The memory of her wife came in a painful flood, along with the memories of her best friends, Senka and Carter. Grasping her dragon necklace with the ruby eye, she came to a complete stop.
"You coming, Tomo?” Akira asked.
"Yes, yes. Sorry Akira," she mumbled, trying to focus on her surroundings to stop the memories.
The flood was too big to stop. Images flashed through her head. Senka tied up on the floor of Freudman's compound, watching Tomo die. Kelly being force-fed the pills that would send her over here to face a fate worse than death. The look on Senka's face when she figured out that Tomo's wife (Senka's boss) had exchanged Senka's life for her own. She squeezed her necklace harder, but the images didn't stop. They cascaded so fast she couldn't keep up. Her, as The Empress of Anzen, ordering the slaughter of ten traitors, watching their blood stain the walls of the throne room. Her bloody climb up the ladder of Anzen royalty. Her ultimate demise in the ill-advised military venture that with the win would only succeed in giving her more power. On and on they went... eyes closed, she hoped for darkness to make them stop.
"TOMO!"
Tomo snapped out of it. She was lying in the fetal position on the forest floor, clutching her necklace, sobbing. Akira was hovering over her, fear and worry clouding the young one’s jubilant face.
"Sorry, sorry," Tomo said, slowly pushing herself to a sitting position.
"Take your time," Akira sputtered. "I can go get dad, he can help you."
"No!" Tomo snapped. Akira took a startled step back. "I'm sorry. No, that's not necessary. I'm sorry Akira, sometimes my head gets away from me." Tomo pushed herself to her feet.
"Thinking of your home again?"
"Nothing gets past you, dear."
"I know I'd miss my mom and dad if I left them behind. I'd probably cry lots too. It's okay to cry."
Tomo smiled at her. "Thank you, my dear. It would be best if we got back to the house. It's getting late and your mother and father will be getting worried."
"Sounds good," Akira chirped. Reaching out and taking Tomo's hand, Akira led her through the forest.
Six weeks. It only took six weeks for Akira and her family to weasel their way into her heart. When she'd crossed over here to The Other Place, she'd thought that she would die alone. But Akira found her. Funny how a child could save one's soul.
Tomo allowed herself to be led through the trees, still weak from the incident. The forest was much like the one in the Okuchichibu Mountains in Japan in her world, a place she'd been before on her honeymoon. Tall trees and overgrown paths with a low population led to the purest beauty. If she hadn't been to The Other Place before, she would have thought that this was heaven.
They came to the homestead. A well-built home on the side of a hill, cut into the forest. Akira and her parents sold wood to surrounding villages as trade, a lucrative business that kept their homestead cleared.
The usual "WHACK" of the axe was missing and Tomo's eyes drew together with worry. Standing a little taller, she moved the rabbits she was carrying to her left shoulder, placing her right hand on the katana attached to her hip.
Akira's mother, Chuya, stepped out the door and waved to them.
"Mother!" Akira yelled, running away from Tomo's side. Tomo immediately relaxed and let her hand fall. "Mother I out hunted Tomo! I caught three rabbits and she only caught two!"
"Three rabbits!" Chuya said, wrapping the girl in a hug. "Akira the Mighty strikes again."
Akira went to go inside the house but Chuya stopped her, allowing Tomo to catch up. They bowed to each other, and Tomo noticed the glint of worry in her eyes.
"Eito is inside with a man from the village," Chuya said. "We will wait out here."
Tomo nodded. Chuya took the rabbits from her, "Let’s go skin these for supper my daughter," she said to Akira.
"But Mom! I want to go listen too!"
"Akira, hush," Chuya said firmly. Akira took the cue from her mother and fell silent. Tomo ventured into the house.
"Tomo!" Eito called from the dining room table. Tomo joined them,, bowing to the two men kneeling at the table. They returned the bow. Tomo knelt with them and Eito poured her some tea.
"We have been waiting for you," Eito said. "This is Genkei. Please, tell her what you told me."
The visitor, Genkei, was young, barely twenty. His forearm was wrapped in a bandage and he looked frazzled.
"They attacked the village," Genkei said. "They attacked us."
"Who?" Tomo asked.
"The Ampulex. They came in the night and took us by surprise. They slaughtered everyone. I only just got away. My family..." He drifted off and sobbed.
"So they're coming north," Tomo said. "Why now? They were venturing east to west. They haven't had a reason."
Genkei turned to her saying, "I waited and watched. There were only four of them, but they were all Zoya, all Generals. They captured our elders. I heard what they were looking for."
"What?" Tomo demanded.
"You."
11
Carter
The exhaustion from the day seeped from every pore in Carter's body.
"Just make it to your bed," he muttered. "Make it to your bed and go to sleep. It will all be better in the morning."
"You know I can hear you, right?" Black Eyes piped up from beside him.
"I was hoping that you'd be gone by now."
"You still haven't told me why Roald Ammondson can't be the guy that kicked my ass a few weeks ago."
"What you've told me about that situation," Carter said, climbing the stairs to his apartment, focusing and taking them one at a time, "makes me think that it was a dream, nothing more. And you're a hallucination. You're not real. So your fantasy experience doesn't exist. So I'm not talking about it."
"What makes something real?" Black Eyes countered.
"I am not getting into a philosophical existential debate with you-"
"Shut up," Black Eyes said, interrupting him. "There's someone upstairs."
The tone caught Carter off guard, so he listened. Placing his hand on his sidearm hidden underneath his leather jacket, he crept around the corner of the last landing to his penthouse.
There was, indeed, a figure standing by his door. Skinny, lanky, with shoulder's back and neck cocked, Carter got the "teenager" sense. And he only knew one teenager.
"Hello, Isaac," Carter said loudly. The kid jumped and turned, holding out something in front of him. "Put the gun down, Isaac. Then we will talk, alright?"
Tremors shook through the kid's hand and he looked at Carter, wild eyed.
“Kid, put it down, alright?” Carter said, still holding his hands out.
The
authoritative tone in Carter's voice got through, and Isaac slowly lowered the weapon.
Carter crept up to him, hands outstretched. As soon as the kid lowered the handgun, Carter gently grabbed it and took it from him, ensuring the safety was on.
Isaac let out a sob and collapsed into Carter's arms.
"It's okay, kid," Carter said, supporting the boy and unlocking the door to his apartment. "It's okay. Let's go inside, have a drink, talk it out."
More sobs. Carter's heart was racing. His son. His. His own flesh and blood was here with him. He was finally holding his child in his arms.
So the teenager had wanted to kill him. Carter didn't think anything of it. A lot of people wanted to kill him. And teenagers were brash. As he hauled Isaac to the couch in his messy living room, he relished the weight of the teenager, the feeling of his skin against his, the smell of too much body spray.
His own. He was here. His son.
"Stay here," Carter mutter hoarsely, too overcome with emotion to speak. Isaac didn't answer, instead sobbing into his hands.
Carter went to the kitchen where he could still see the teenager. Pouring two shots of Jack Daniels and grabbing a box of tissues, he thought a silent prayer for forgiveness from Senka. He'd promised her he'd never drink again.
Promises were made to be broken.
On that thought, he poured them each a glass of water as well. The kid would probably need it.
He walked into the living room and placed the shot of whiskey in front of the teenager.
"Drink this," Carter said.
"My dad said I shouldn't drink," the kid mumbled through quivering lips.
"Well, I think today is going to be the exception."
The kid stared at the drink, hands shaking.
"I know you don't know me, but it will help that," Carter said, raising his shot glass and gesturing at the kid's shaking hands. "Then we can talk."
Isaac nodded and picked up his glass. Carter drank first, watching the kid hesitate over his glass for a second then down the drink. Coughing and spluttering, he spat out half and tried to breathe. Carter pushed over the glass of water and the kid drank greedily. When he stopped and put down the glass, Carter saw his hands weren't shaking anymore. Good old Jack had done his job.
"Now," Carter said, leaning back in his chair, "why are you here to kill me?"
"I'm not sure," Isaac said, face still flushed from the whiskey. "I am so angry right now. At everything. I should be happy. I lived. I got out of there," Isaac sniffled and wiped his face. "Charlie told me to protect people. She told me to act..."
"You saw me leave and your mother was crying on your doorstep," Carter offered the distraught young man.
"Why didn't you want me?" Isaac yelled. "Why didn't you want anything to do with me?"
Carter's heart wrenched. It was so painful he thought it would kill him. Wanting, desperately, to rise and hold the broken boy in his arms, he forced himself to stay on the chair.
"I can't..." Carter started, then, rethinking his strategy, "There are some truths that are your mother's to answer. But I would have never left you. I've always wanted you, even if I just found out you existed."
"You left her," Isaac blubbered.
"I did," Carter said. "I wasn't... I wasn't strong enough or old enough to do right by you," Carter said. It was his turn to wipe his eyes. "I didn't deserve you. Your father, Chris, he stepped up and did what I couldn't do. He's a better man than me." He reached out to Isaac then stopped himself short.
Isaac looked at him. Carter saw his own eyes. Almond shaped, brown with copper flecks.
"I want..." Carter stopped and steeled himself. "I would like, if you are willing, to see you once in a while. We will have to run it by your parents. But I know a little about what you are going through, and I think we can maybe talk about it."
Isaac nodded. "I'd like that."
Carter smiled. "How did you know where I lived?"
Isaac waved his hand, "Charlie told me."
"But... Charlie didn't know I had a kid. I didn't even know..."
"She said I have your eyes," Isaac shrugged. "Crazy, right? That I would be the kid that ended up in the compound with your old partner. Seems a little..."
"Contrived." Carter said. "You're right, it does seem contrived, doesn't it?"
"Yeah. Anyways, my mother always says that there are no coincidences," Isaac said. "That someone up there was watching out for us. You seen Charlie lately? I'd like to thank her."
Carter decided to change the subject. "Does your mother know you’re here?"
"No, she thinks I'm with my friends," Isaac shrugged. "The therapist told her that I need more space, that she can't coddle me anymore. So she finally let me go."
"You need to call her and tell her," Carter said sternly, holding out his phone.
"No," Isaac said, shaking his head. "No way. I thought you'd be cool."
"Isaac, you're becoming a man. Part of becoming a man is putting other people’s needs before your own. You were taken, and it broke your parents. The only reason I got involved was because your father begged me to help. I'm assuming you never want them to feel that way again?"
"No, you're right," he muttered, "I don't. But they are going to mad."
"My guess is relieved. Call them," Carter said.
Isaac grabbed the phone.
"You can go in the kitchen, have some privacy."
Isaac nodded then headed into the next room.
Black Eyes appeared on the couch. "Heavy shit," she muttered.
Being careful to keep his voice down, and keeping track of the muttering conversation his son was having in the next room, Carter said, "Don't start. I thought I'd finally gotten rid of you."
"Not a hallucination," Black Eyes shrugged.
Isaac stopped talking and she disappeared in a snap.
"They are on their way," Isaac said, sighing deeply. "You were right, they were relieved I was with you."
"Good for you. Do you feel better?"
"Yeah," Isaac said. "Yeah I do."
"Now, where did you get the gun, Isaac?"
The kid sighed and looked around. "Nice pad you got. Just you here?"
"Answer the question," Carter said steadily.
Isaac sighed. "It's a fake. An airsoft gun. I couldn't get a real one in time."
"You must go to a pretty nice school?"
"Private," he sighed. "Nothing but the best for my dad's son."
"I'm going to keep the gun," Carter said. "You're a young black man. I know it's a bit different here in Canada. We're certainly not as bad as the States, but you're going to have some terrible prejudices against you in your life. I'd hate for some trigger happy cop to shoot you because you had an airsoft."
Isaac nodded, wide eyed.
"Good."
"I thought you were a cop?"
"No," Carter said. "I work for the military. Not a cop. Don't get me wrong, most cops are great. But some can be real assholes."
The buzzer rang and Carter tapped the button on his watch to let his company in.
"Your parents are here," Carter said.
"Yeah."
"Isaac... Charlie died. She knew what she was doing, and she died saving someone she loved. But she died."
Isaac stayed dry eyed, but Carter could tell the information hit him hard. "Alright," he said.
"She's buried in the military cemetery. I can take you there sometime."
A knock at the door. Isaac rose and answered it.
"I'd like that," Isaac said.
"You okay?" Shelly asked, worry all over her face.
"Yes, mom. I came here. Carter didn't invite me."
"Okay. I'm just so happy you're okay." she breathed, pulling him into a hug. "Your dad is downstairs in the car. I have some stuff to clear up here. I'll be down in a minute."
Isaac shot her a smile and headed down the stairs. "Oh! Carter," he called.
"Yeah, bud?"
"I have a basketball game next Wedn
esday. Three thirty. You should come watch."
Carter glanced at Shelly, who nodded ever so slightly.
"Yeah, bud. Wouldn't miss it."
"Cool!" Isaac said. He turned and disappeared down the stairs.
"So..." Shelly said tersely.
"I know," Carter said. "I'm sorry. I found him waiting up here, wanting to talk."
"I didn't handle any of this right. I thought that I was over you walking out, but then to see you, and have you save him. It brought some shit up."
"I hear that," Carter mumbled.
Shelly sighed, "Honestly, the more positive people in his life, especially positive men, the better. If you want to be involved, and he wants you to be, then I don't see why it's a problem."
"And Chris?"
"It was Chris' idea," Shelly shrugged. "I never wanted to see you again."
"He's a better man than I am."
Shelly smiled, "You're right. He is."
Carter returned the smile.
"Goodnight, Shelly," Carter said. "I will see you next week."
She nodded and went down the stairs.
Carter returned into his living room and flopped on the couch, slamming his pillow over his eyes.
"That went well," Black Eyes muttered in his ear.
"Go away."
"Can't do that," Black Eyes chirped. "You're stuck with me until Tory dies, I manage to die again, or I decide to go back to her. None of those options are going to happen anytime soon."
Groaning, Carter rubbed his face. "Can you be quiet then for like 8 hours?"
"Sounds boring."
"Ugh," Carter said. He pulled the pillow off his face and stared at the annoying woman in his favourite chair. Fiddling with his watch, he turned on the TV in the far corner of his living room. "There. TV. Now you don't have to be bored."
"What's TV?" Black Eyes asked, mesmerized by the light in the corner.
"It’s got entertainment on it, like a play." An idea popped into his head, and he found what he was looking for on the memory drive.
"So, like what thespians do?"
"Sure. I want to assure you it's not real," he said, pressing play. "There. All three extended versions of The Lord of the Rings, set to play back to back. Have at it."