Strange Medicine

by Jim Stein

  “And do it fast. The sand’s still coming.”

  “Yes, dear.” I managed a grin, then reached for music and Fire.

  I’d healed myself of poison before, and it hurt—a lot. Clearing out the scorpion venom was no exception. Fire burned and cleansed, forcing the last of the poison to my right knee, which managed not to explode before I sagged in relief and exhaustion. Satisfied I had things under control, Quinn took the driver’s seat and wrapped my arms around her waist.

  The town flashed by in spotty patches—empty stores and houses, then a jarring road through forest. More than once, I jerked awake and found I’d left a drool stain on Quinn’s back. Healing took a lot out of a guy. The thought made me giggle, but that took too much effort. I sagged forward to rest my head on the wet spot.

  “Wake up, slim.” Quinn called over her shoulder. “We’re turning onto the highway. Time to check in.”

  “Sure thing.” I blinked, feeling a little more alive.

  The tractor pulled up along the berm, and the ATVs clustered in close for one final rest stop before we headed south toward the river bridge. I got down and stumbled on leaden feet, but there’d be time for sleep once we were safe.

  Lighting the candle took way too much effort, as did my call to Anna and the others. Pete had a map open and jabbed his index finger down on our current location. If the sand hadn’t reached the bridge, we had a clear line of sight to base camp.

  “Aarav, this is Ed. Can you hear me?”

  The connection echoed in my now throbbing head—definitely too much magic.

  “Anna…anyone?”

  “Crap, I don’t think they’re in range.” I held up a hand to forestall Quinn’s response.

  “Ed, I’ve got you.” Aarav’s firespeak was strong, so maybe the desert hadn’t progressed as far south as we feared. “Anna’s here at basecamp with the buses and told us you went back in. Mr. Conti wants your status.” He paused as if listening to something outside our conversation. “And he says to get your butt back.”

  “We have the Eastons and are heading for the bridge. Tell Mr. C my butt is on the way.” I had to smile at the thought of our kindly old boss using that term. “Watch for a big tractor and half a dozen ATVs. It’s slow going, so another hour.” I looked to the map, and Pete gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe ninety minutes.”

  “Should be okay.” Aarav said. “The sand stopped dead a couple miles upstream. It’s been holding there for hours, but don’t waste any time. You hear?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  12. The Source of the Problem

  T

  HE BUSES got back a day ahead of us, but celebrations continued at basecamp as people searched for friends and family and happy reunions ensued. We checked in with Mr. C before I was afforded that luxury, but Anna finally walked me down the line of buses to the band’s RV where Meg poured over stacks of paper.

  She handed me the annotated list of newcomers without preamble and returned to scribbling notes in the margins of her printouts. I scanned the pages and found “Johnson, Phillip” and “Johnson, Simone.”

  “B3 and NF?” I asked pointing at the notes scrawled next to my parents’ names.

  “Bus three is one of the big gray ones we’ll be using. Numbers are in the windshield.” Her glare at being interrupted softened. “NF is not found. Or more accurately not yet accounted for.”

  “But Mom was at the hospital. She should have come in with the rest.”

  Meg gave me a helpless shrug before turning back to her reports. An arm slipped around my own, and Anna led me away. My feet felt like lead, and drawing in breath hurt.

  “Let’s talk to your dad.” The girl pulled me past happy knots of people.

  Bus three was surrounded by gray-blue dome tents. The driver lounged across the front seats of her rig, watching an old ball game on the coach’s big screen and eating a hot dog.

  “Excuse us,” Anna said from the top of the stairs. “We’re looking for Mr. Johnson?”

  The woman’s frizzy gray hair matched the bus’s exterior. She sat up and pointed her foil-wrapped dog out the left front window. “Right down there. Tents all look the same, but his has the folding table out front. So happy we get our own bean counter from the bureau.”

  I didn’t have the energy to get mad, but shook my head at her derisive snort. Anna had more class.

  “Thanks.” The girl’s smile changed the old woman’s demeanor better than anything I would have said.

  “Take care, sweetheart.” She shrugged, and her sneer softened into an actual smile as she settled back to watch her game.

  We circled the bus. The green folding table was easy to spot, as were the stacks of reports neatly filed in boxes underneath.

  “Hello?” Anna rapped on the table in lieu of a door.

  Muttering and the zing of an arm dragging across nylon came from within before the tent flaps parted. Dad’s salt and pepper hair emerged at chest level, followed by his lanky frame. Light spilled out into the darkening gloom as he stood with hands in the middle of his back and stretched.

  “Edan!” Dad rushed forward and swept me into a hug.

  “Hi, Dad.” I patted his shoulder and disengaged from the awkward embrace. “This is Anna Banks.”

  “Sure, Mom and I met this delightful young lady out at Bryn Mawr yesterday.” He shook her hand and gave a bow.

  The ache sitting deep in my chest released. Mom’s okay. The stupid NF tag was an admin foul up. Not surprising given the number of people Meg dealt with and the general chaos. But we needed to be vigilant for little mistakes that carried such an emotional punch.

  “We got most of the Eastons out too. Pete’s farm is an oasis, but everything else pretty much disappeared. Getting out was a hell of a ride. When we get this show on the road, maybe you and Mom can ride with us—” Dad’s frown made me pause. “Or do you have the truck stashed somewhere? That’d be cool too; we can see whose car has more muscle.”

  Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say too. My dad wasn’t a prude by any stretch of the imagination. I’d caught him revving his old blue pickup just to hear it roar. But his face settled into the neutral, disapproving look I’d met as a kid sneaking back from scavenger runs into the city ruins.

  “Ed.” Dad look away and cleared his throat with a rolling little cough. “Mom didn’t come out with us.”

  “But you met at the hospital.” I looked from Anna to Dad.

  “We did, but Mom stayed behind.”

  “Why the hell would she do that?”

  None of this made sense. If Mom and Dad had been at hospital evacuation site, they both would have hopped a bus. Knowing my folks, it would have been the last bus, at the last possible moment, but neither was a martyr likely to stay behind just for the hell of it. They weren’t the ones who’d flirted with depression and suicide.

  “You have to understand.” Dad laid a hand on my arm, but I pulled away. “Not everyone could leave. A handful of patients were too fragile or dependent on equipment to be moved.” His blue eyes glistened, threatening to spill over—yet he smiled. “You know Mom. She wasn’t about to leave them. She stayed behind with a doctor and two other volunteers.”

  The world spun, and I found myself sitting on the ground, one hand on a cool metal table leg.

  “We have to go back.” As the words left my mouth I tasted the lie.

  We’d ridden back through pure desert. No signs of the suburbs remained, no trees, no buildings—not until we’d moved far to the west, well past where Bryn Mawr would have stood. That entire section of town was simply gone. There was nowhere to go back to.

  Night stole into camp among the buzzing throng. I moved through the motions of helping Quinn set up tents. We’d be pairing up: she and Anna, Manny and Vance, and then me and Pete sharing a tent.

  “You okay?” Pete asked later, as we sat in subdued silence. Crickets and frogs chirped from the edges of our expanding little community, but it was getting late enough that most pe
ople had crawled into their tents or cars.

  “Don’t know.” I shrugged and studied the grass sprouting between my feet. “What do I do?”

  My voice sounded hollow, my words useless. There was nothing to do. The desert swallowed her—swallowed the whole damned city—leaving a sandy hole where Mom had been. It wasn’t even like the buildings were simply buried and waiting to be exhumed. I’d proven that when Quinn and I dug down to solid ground. Everything was just gone, no logical explanation; this was magic.

  “Maybe Koko or the serpent know where stuff goes when it’s caught in this thinning veil?”

  “I don’t think it goes anywhere.” I pictured the islands colliding during that impossible gathering. “The realms in my true dream flashed and vanished, like matter touching anti-matter—gone.”

  “We’ve seen portals before.” Quinn scooted over with Anna in tow. “You can’t just assume everyone’s dead.”

  I didn’t have strength to argue the point. This was no portal. In spite of the healing spell, my leg ached horribly. I rubbed my knee under the shorts I’d changed into.

  “What’s this?” I asked as Anna pushed a small box into my hand.

  “Some new music, I think.” She gave a shy smile and swept a stray lock of blond hair from her face. “From the gift shop at the hospital. We did a sweep for supplies, and I grabbed a souvenir. I like the cover art. Getting it for you just seemed…right.”

  A battling dragon and knight were barely visible under decades of grime and scratches. How she managed to spot the disk on the shelves was a mystery.

  “Thanks. I’ll give it a listen before bed.”

  We talked about the coming move. Mr. Conti decided continuing down to Baltimore gave us the best chance of establishing a semi-permanent residence. He hoped to radio his connections once we got away from the sand. The exodus would start as soon as Meg’s team finished their accounting.

  I headed to bed wearing earbuds and listening to Anna’s compilation album. The tracks were full of hidden gems. A couple graced my childhood collection, but most were new and fresh, with a consistent undertone of quiet, enabling power. Though most of the songs didn’t feel right for elemental spells, they made the horrible day a bit more bearable. Even my leg stopped aching by the time I drifted off.

  I rolled out of bed feeling refreshed. Oddly, Pete wasn’t on his side of the tent. I threw back the flap and squinted into sunshine reflecting off the tall dunes. The tent dissolved as I stepped out, into another dream. Smoke drifted on the dry air, and the fringe of my buckskin vest flared out as I spun to confront the old man sitting cross-legged at the fire.

  “Welcome, Edan.” Koko mustered a bit of his old joviality, though his eyes drooped with fatigue. “The source of disruption is an ancient medicine shield, a magical artifact lost in the floods of the third world.”

  Being direct was out of character for the old spirit. He stroked the walking staff lying across his lap. Its symbols flared under his palms, but the effect quickly faded. It was great they’d found the problem, but my mind was elsewhere.

  “My Mom disappeared in the desert—several people did. Where’d they go?”

  He started, surely thinking I’d meant Ankti, my biological mother and the Hopi woman he had loved so long ago. Then he seemed to understand and sucked in a deep breath, considering the question.

  “Colliding realms are unpredictable. Your lands may slip into the third world or simply…cease.”

  “But they might be alive?” I grabbed the lifeline. “I can get them out.”

  “If you do not find the shield and stop the process, there will be nowhere to bring them back to. Do this thing first, then worry about your missing people.”

  “Is this shield out in the desert?” I could look for Mom at the same time.

  “Not in the way you mean. The shield is ancient and powerful, crafted from sacred materials in an age when people needed guidance and healing.” Fond remembrance gleamed in his eyes. “The people lived in balance. The shield served them well, keeping the lands, waters, and people healthy and productive.

  “But as it always does, greed found its way into the good-hearted. Some used the shield and other artifacts for unintended purposes. War shields and lesser medicine shields drew off power, power used to destroy instead of heal.” A tear slipped down his left cheek. You would have thought someone—

  “You made that shield!” I was certain of it.

  He nodded ever so slightly. “It had to be abandoned when Sotuknang ordered the third world destroyed, but yet somehow it remains. Now, the worlds merge, and the shield calls in pain and despair for having been twisted so far from its intended purpose. You must travel here.” He stood and traced a map in the sand with the tip of his staff. The drawing sprang to life, showing a river winding along the base of a sheer cliff with peaks lost in snow and clouds. “I know little else of the landscape, but have constructed this to help guide you.”

  Koko gripped his staff, twisted it in two, and held out the upper two feet. The length of wood was warm and prickled with power. As I took it, the carvings on the reminder of his staff dimmed. The old man grunted, and his shoulders dipped as if he’d just caught a heavy sack.

  “Everything out in New Philly is desert. There’s no mountain.”

  “None of us know what waits in the third world. The staff head will be your guide after you cross.”

  “Cross how?”

  Instead of answering, Koko drew a spiral in the sand. A wave of his shortened staff stretched the symbol vertically. It glowed sickly green as it swirled and slowed to a stop. The cyclone of energy stood frozen in place, a three-dimensional snapshot of the glowing tornado behind Pete’s farm.

  If the staff only worked on the other side, I needed to take Ralph at least as far as the farm. I’d been friends with Pete and Quinn too long to fool myself into thinking they wouldn’t insist on coming along too.

  “Will my magic work in there?”

  “Yes, but the effects may be unreliable.” He plopped back down into his cross-legged pose, breathing heavy and coaxing power from his staff. “I can speak no more. Be careful, my son.”

  The staff flared, washing away the map of river and rocks, but leaving the frozen portal to shine green light across the sand—as if I needed a reminder of the chore he’d set for me. Glowing eyes glinted atop a dark muzzle from within the still vortex. I should have felt fear at that otherworldly scrutiny. But if there was to be any chance for my world, for Mom, this was something I needed to do—wanted to do. I’d get back to the farm, find the shield, and what? Destroy it?

  “Wait!” Gray fog swirled around my feet, threatening to pull me out of the true dream. “How do I shut it down? You know, stop the shield?”

  He gave me one of those enigmatic looks as if the answer should be obvious, then cast his gaze on the fire and disappeared. I opened my mouth, but the gray enveloped me and I fell into a cocoon of nothingness.

  This time, I awoke to Pete’s snoring, a sure sign I was back in the real world. I kicked his foot to disrupt his next attempt to start a chainsaw. Farmers were supposed to be up at the crack of dawn. Light spilled across the encampment, and people already gathered for Mr. C’s big meeting.

  “You’re looking especially grim today,” Quinn said by way of greeting as I staggered out of the tent and nearly tripped over Dwain and Ralph. “What’s with the stick?”

  The imp and sprite were just outside engaged in slow-motion combat, like tia chi, except they faced each other and connected with soft slaps at hand, wrist, knee, and foot in a parry-and-block dance.

  Pina’s people were skilled in hand to hand combat. Ralph already moved like lightning in a fight. I cringed at the thought of combining his speed with the sprite’s prowess. But it was good to see him taking up a hobby instead of just moping around with Max’s old toy rabbit.

  “A little gift from father Koko.” I stepped around the pair and handed over the club that had been the top of Koko’s staff.
>
  “There’s power here.” Quinn studied the simple carvings of deer, snakes, and what looked like a wolf or coyote, then shivered and handed it back. “It doesn’t like me.”

  “Yeah, right.” My smile slipped at her grim expression. “It’s supposed to lead me to some ancient medicine shield that’s causing the world overlap problem.”

  I explained what Koko told me and how the vortex behind Pete’s farm was in fact the portal into this elusive third world.

  “We better take plenty of water,” Pete said when I fell silent.

  ‘Wait a minute—”

  “And food,” Dwain added. “Plus marshmallows for Ralph. He’s running low.”

  “Now, hold on—”

  “What’s going on here?” Manny asked as he and Vance strode up to join us.

  “An expedition into the third world.” Quinn went on to summarize my story.

  “Hmm, true medicine shields are rare nowadays.” Manny scratched his chin and dimples dotted each cheek as he screwed up his face in concentration. “Even with your mini-staff as a guide, this could be dangerous. Magic can attract unwanted attention so we better bring conventional firearms. Vance and Pete, what can you pull together?”

  Pete and Quinn coming along was inevitable. I supposed the same went for Dwain and Ralph, but Manny and Vance wanting to tag along was a bit much. Getting a word in proved difficult as the group discussed what we’d need. Piper even joined us and whipped out her notebook to start a list of supplies.

  “Can’t believe we’re back up to six people,” I said as Quinn and I headed for the meeting.

  “Seven, counting Ralph. Stop grumbling. Everyone wants to help, and you get extra firepower in case things go wrong.”

  “True.” I swung a leg over the rusting guardrail near Pioneer. Mr. C wanted his team leads up front. “I just don’t want anyone getting hurt. Plus we’re already doubled up on the damned ATVs.”

  “You don’t think the cop and farm boy can hold their own?” Quinn raised an incredulous eyebrow. “They can’t sling spells or handle swarms, but anything big is going to make a nice fat target.”