Dauntless

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Dauntless Page 10

by Thomas G. Atwood Jr.


  “I envy that. I left home when I was sixteen. Since then I’ve wandering around the world, never staying in one place for long.”

  “That sounds fun,” I replied.

  “It is, but it has its drawbacks,” Kat murmured, watching the stores as we passed them.

  “Why didn’t you get some sleep earlier?”

  “I couldn’t. I had too many thoughts running through my head.”

  “Like what?”

  “Take a left at the light,” she said, and I gave her a sideways glance as I obeyed.

  “I’m worried about you, to be honest,” she admitted. “I’m concerned about the fact that you want to join the Sentinels.”

  “Why? Do you think I’d suck at it?”

  “On the contrary, I think you’d be amazing at it, and that’s the problem.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “First things first. What did you mean when you said that it was your fault that your mom died?”

  I grimaced. “I hoped that you’d forgotten that.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “No offense, but it’s personal.”

  “I understand. Make a U-turn. We'll drive back to Elysium.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Kacey, if you join the Sentinels, then you will have dozens of lives riding on your every decision. Not just the lives of innocents, but the people who fight beside you. Any weakness you have, any decision that haunts you, could have disastrous consequences. I need to be sure.”

  “Sure of what?”

  “That you’re in the right state of mind for this. What happened between you and your mom?”

  I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles became pale white. “Do you know Monroe Lake?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it’s a lake…”

  “I figured that part out,” Kat returned.

  “Well every winter it freezes over, and people go skating on it. My mom and dad used to go there all the time before the accident.” My voice broke, and I stared out the window as the memories overwhelmed me.

  “Take a breath. It’s all right, Kacey.”

  “No, it’s not,” I shot back with a ferocity that surprised me. “The lake has a weak spot, near the center. Always. My parents told me a thousand times, never go near the center of the lake, they made me swear each time.” I wasn’t aware of the road at that point; I was too absorbed in the sound of the screams. The road flashed away, replaced by the icy chill of the lake. My cries echoed in my ears as I watched the depths consume my mom. The vision rewound, forcing me to look at it again and again like a damaged DVD.

  “I…I didn’t listen,” I murmured, tears flowing down my eyes with each word. “I thought…I don’t know what I thought. I broke through the ice. Mom…Mom didn’t even think twice,” I sobbed, remembering the terror in her eyes as she ran across the ice.

  “She dove in after me and pulled me out. She…she didn’t make it.” The grief washed away, white hot rage taking its place.

  “It should have been me,” I said, smacking the cup holder in frustration. “If I’d…If I’d listened to what they said, then my mom would still be alive!”

  We pulled into the parking lot of a towering office building, and Kat’s eyes watered as she looked at me.

  “Thank you for sharing that,” she whispered.

  “So that’s it?” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes. “You’re not going to tell me it’s not my fault? That I shouldn’t blame myself? That I should let it go or something?”

  “I can if that’s what you want me to say. I can tell you how your mom was a hero and her saving you was something any mother would have done. None of that would matter, though. I wouldn’t be so foolish as to say I know how you feel, Kacey. I’ve lost friends, and I’ve watched them die in my arms. After that happens, you wonder what you could have done. If you were a split second faster, if you were more powerful, if you were paying more attention…all those thoughts torture you every day. You can’t let them weigh on you, though. You may not be able to let it go, but you have to find a way through it. To live without spending every day with those thoughts traumatizing you. If you don’t, then the memories will kill you. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But bit by bit they’ll take your life away from you until there’s nothing left. She loved you so much she gave her life for you. Don’t waste that gift.”

  “Thanks. So where are we?”

  “Grand Central station,” she replied. “I have to take care of something. Take this card and insert it into the elevator. I’ll catch up with you.

  “Alright,” I returned, stepping into the office and walking into the elevator at the far end of the room.

  A strange, bearded man wearing a trilby stood next to me. His shirt featured dozens of video game characters in a violent and vicious brawl. A single black imp grinned at the combat. I cocked my head and stared in confusion at the elevator. The elevator had no buttons, and the indicator at the top indicated 38.86, 104.76. I glanced at the other man in the elevator, as he played in the portable game in front of him. I pushed my card into the small slot. The elevator glided up, and classic rock blared from the elevator’s speakers as we ascended. The red numbers span in circles, flashing the words Entertainment as the doors opened. The strange man stepped out, not bothering to look up from his game.

  A few seconds later, the doors opened. The area beyond had creatures of all shapes and sizes; beings I couldn’t even name. Blue skinned creatures the size of trees walked from one desk to another, leaving giant piles of ice and frost in their wake. The sky was as black as night with countless small, yellow orbs floating and dancing in the middle. Thumb sized women floated over computers, jumping down hard at each attempt to press a key. Dogs the size of horses led around hairy men, each of whom had one small eye in the middle of their forehead. Women of impossible beauty beamed at everyone who walked in, dressed in robes that consisted of thousands of leaves woven together. The air boomed with shouting, bells ringing and the occasional deafening blast one of the workers shot out from a staff.

  “What the hell?” I asked, struggling to keep track of the thousands of sights and sounds that surrounded me. The plastic card ejected from the elevator and I stepped out. I struggled to get the attention of the many people who wandered around the office.

  I weaved through the throng of people, creatures, and monsters until I found myself in the middle of a spotless lobby. Bronze placards announced various city names. I stared, agape, as one opened, revealing the Parisian landscape. I looked in frozen shock as two women bumped into me, muttering their apologies. I waved it off, and they continued talking about some strange rebellion as their dull red goat bounded behind them.

  I was about to give up when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I span to find Kat standing behind me, a grin on her face.

  “Where are we?”

  “Welcome to the Axis Mundi, or as it’s better known, Grand Central station.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “This place can take you almost anywhere you can imagine. In the blink of an eye, you can be halfway across the globe or in another realm. It allows Mages to expand our territory and to send Sentinels across the world.”

  “That’s so cool,” I whispered, watching the rust covered goat bound from place to place, desperate to catch my attention. The young girl gained control over the animal, and they disappeared into one of the portals.

  “So all those creatures are mages?”

  “No. We also rent it out for a pretty penny. People and beings of all kind use it to get from place to place. It’s kept the peace for a while.”

/>   “You’re serious?”

  “World peace isn’t created by everyone smelling the roses, despite what some people would have you believe. Peace happens when your enemy wants something of yours and realizes he won’t get it if he tries to kill you. It sounds strange, but it works.” A creature bellowed a low, dull sound that shook the stones around us.

  “Hi, Chip,” Kat said, unimpressed. The creature gave a quick grunt before walking on his way. We walked down the halls until we came across a large sign stating Ireland. Kat pulled a gleaming bronze dial from the wall, adjusting it until the screen shimmered. A small cottage surrounded by a field of bright green grass appeared in the distance.

  “That’s his house,” Kat said, stepping away. “Good luck.”

  “You’re not coming with me?”

  “I’m not the one who has to impress him. His name is Patrick O’Donnel, but he goes by the name Ripper.”

  “Wait, Patrick O’Donnel? Big guy, brown eyes, and he looks like he drinks protein shakes by the gallon?”

  “Sounds like him, why?”

  “That’s my Uncle Patrick. Well, not an uncle, but he was one of my dad’s best friends. He used to come by all the time, telling me stories about King Arthur, Ivanhoe, and Robin Hood. He and my dad taught me how to play basketball.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yeah. They had a falling out a few years ago, and he stopped coming over. Why is he called Ripper?”

  “Well, the story says that one day a group of a dozen vampires went to kill him. He was unarmed, unprepared, and they thought he’d be unable to defend himself. When they attacked, he waded into them, ripping their heads off with his bare hands.”

  “Holy crap.”

  “Yeah, he used to be a force of nature, unbeatable, unstoppable. One day, he announces that he’s not doing it anymore. These days he hustles pool at the local pub. Best of luck to you.”

  “Do you think he can help?”

  “If anyone can face down Pyrus and teach you how to become a Sentinel, it’s him.”

  “So how do I get back?”

  “The portal sticks around for twenty-four hours. If you don’t come back in time, give me a call, and I’ll get you.”

  “Thanks.” I bobbed up and down on the balls of my feet as I stepped through the portal.

  The walkway became darker with every step, and a wooden door with a brass handle blocked the other end. I opened the door, and when I stepped out, I found a white ash tree on the other end. The door closed and disappeared. I felt around the tree, and my hands closed around the bronze doorknob. I turned and walked down the dirt path leading to the cottage. A floral scent wafted through the area, permeating the air with a powerful perfume of daisies, jasmine, and lavender. The grass was immaculate, with each blade the same length as the others. I opened the white, picket fence, and knocked on the cherry red door. A man walked to the door, the steps booming like a rhino as he approached the door. He flung the door open and blinked as he saw me.

  “Little Kacey?” he asked in confusion. Uncle Patrick was the same as ever save for the gray that lined his temples. He still had the stern set to the jaw and the eyes that glared in a perpetual challenge. The acrid smell of oil hung in the air, a scent matched by the black stains on his shirt. He was still as massive as ever, a lion that someone had managed to become human. The arms that used to lift me through the air to dunk were almost as big as my head, and I had no doubt he could still send me flying.

  “Hey,” I said, waving.

  “What are you doing in Ireland?”

  “Nice to see you too.”

  “I meant you’re far from home,” he grumbled, his voice low and rumbling. “What brings you to Ireland?”

  “I came for you. I wanted to talk to you about the Sentinels.” The instant the word left my mouth, he slammed the door. The sound boomed like thunder as it echoed across the countryside.

  “Way to go, Kacey,” I grumbled, pounding on the door. “Open the door! I need to talk to you!” Silence greeted me on the other end, and rolled my eyes, reaching for my lock picks.

  The lock snapped open, and I stepped inside. Pictures decorated the walls, family photos of Ripper playing with an unknown child. A weight bench was in the corner, hundreds of pounds lying on the bar. I poked around, earning an annoyed glare from Ripper.

  “When a person slams a door in your face, it’s a sign they want you to leave,” he grumbled, placing a tea kettle on the stove.

  “Huh, I always thought that meant try harder,” I quipped, walking around the house. “So we need to talk.”

  Ripper grunted in response, setting two plates on the table and setting pastries on them.

  “What’s this?” I asked

  “Food. You will eat; we’ll catch up, and then you’ll go. No more talking about this Sentinel nonsense.”

  “Well, that’s going to be a problem, seeing as how that’s the reason I came.” Ripper filled two cups with tea and slid a chair toward me with his foot.

  “Sit,” he commanded, sipping from his cup. “Why do you even want to join the Sentinels? The last I checked, you either wanted to be a nurse or run an ice cream shop.”

  “I was ten.”

  “They suit you better. You’re not cut out for that life.”

  “I’m cut out for whatever life I choose.”

  “You’re five feet tall and can’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. I’ve seen gerbils more fit to go into battle than you.”

  “Wow, I remember you being less of an ass. Were you always that way, or did you pick it up when you started hustling tourists?”

  “I’m a delight, my mood sours when people break into my home.”

  “I didn’t break in; your locks are shit. So you’re going to train me to be a Sentinel.”

  “Is that so?” he asked, sipping his tea.

  “That’s right.”

  “It’s nothing personal, Kacey. You couldn’t handle the training, the discipline, or the combat. The creatures we face would…”

  “I’ve already killed two vampires,” I returned, giving him a satisfied smirk as I took a big bite from a scone.

  “You’ve killed two-”

  “Vampires, yeah. Well, I kind of killed more, but the fire did most of the work. I figured it would be tacky to take credit for them.”

  Ripper gave me a long stare as he chewed.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head as he pushed the plate away.

  “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? I hear you used to be a legend. What happened? You disappear, and to hell with everyone else?”

  “You know nothing about me, girl!” he bellowed, eyes blazing with fire as he glowered down at me.

  “Yeah right. I know that you’re a coward. You’re happy to let other people put their lives on the line-”

  “Enough,” Ripper bellowed, slamming his hand down on the table. “Do you think it’s easy? I dread going to the mail each day because sooner or later I’ll get the letter that a brother I bled with has died. You know nothing about why I’ve decided to stay out of the fight and don’t you dare to assume you do.” He stared down at the spilled tea and ruined pastries, scowling. “Your meal is over. It’s time for you to go.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “I don’t think you heard me,” he growled, towering over me.

  “I heard you fine. I don’t care.”

  He let out a growl, a rumbling sound that echoed like the beat of a drum.

  “I forgot how stubborn you were,” he said, glaring at me before letting out a
soft chuckle.

  “Let’s start over. Why did you stop coming over? I hate to admit it, but it didn’t suck having you over. I missed schooling you with my jump shot.”

  Ripper scoffed. “You were never a match for me.”

  “Keep telling yourself that. So what gives?”

  “Your father and I had a falling out. I had a one-night stand with a woman-”

  “Classy.”

  “Shut up and listen. Her name was Roxanne. After the...encounter, she became pregnant. I stood by her side, and we became close. By the time she gave birth to Samuel, I had fallen in love. Your father didn’t approve.”

  “Wait a minute; you have a son? When did this happen? How come I’ve never heard of him?”

  “He’s a year younger than you, and the reason you never heard about him is that Roxanne refused to come near your father. Roxanne…had a reputation. Your dad never approved of me dating her; he’d go on and on about how she would…fall onto bad habits.”

  “You’re saying he thought she’d go out screwing everyone.”

  “Who…who taught you how to speak like that? You’re a young lady for God’s sake,” he said, glancing at me with a disapproving scowl.

  “You did. I remember you swearing up a storm and saying all manner of nasty insults one Super Bowl.”

  “That’s different. I had money on that game, and who calls for a passing play when you’re on the two-yard line? But that’s not the point,” he said, a grin pulling at the corner of his face.

  “Yeah I know, do as I say, not as I do and blah, blah, blah. So you left because my dad thought your girlfriend was a-”

  “He didn’t like her,” Ripper returned, interrupting me. “So I asked her to marry me and asked your father to be my best man. He refused, telling me in great detail how she was a horrible person. We fought, and I hadn’t talked to him since.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Ripper grunted, reaching into his freezer and pulling out two beers. He flicked the caps off with his thumb and set one on the table in front of me. I laughed.

 

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