I can’t do that. He’s defenseless. If anything would condem me this late in the game, it’s outright murder. Conscience urged him to store the gun next to his own. His hand grudgingly followed its orders.
Then, he pushed himself up off his knees. A wave of nausea and dizziness attempted to submerge his consciousness. Fighting the onslaught, the aged soldier attained his balance just in time. The door across the rooftop buckled as Daniel steadied himself, assuming the calm and composed focus of battle.
Madelin paced over to the chimney once again. Watching Daniel stumble over to the comatose operative was heart wrenching. After he salvaged the weapons, he stood wavering in the wind like a fragile antenna. There had to be something she could do, but only one thing came to mind. It was something she had very little control over.
What if I can’t do it again? The self doubt ate at her as she watched Daniel prepare to confront the devils. I have to try. If I don’t, he’ll die.
Madelin stepped up to the brick chimney and summoned the memory of her lost friend. Altran’s words echoed through the distortion once again.
“Focus … Concentrate and you’ll see it. You can do what most can’t.” His words whispered through her thoughts, so real that Madelin had to remind herself that he was gone. A tear welled up at the thought of him before streaking down her tar stained face.
Madelin did as he instructed as she stared at the darkened wall, whispering the words time and again as she searched for the dark rose bud. Each crack called to her but she sought a place far from here. Rough edges appeared as she scanned the rows of bricks.
Eventually, a fine line emerged, curving up into the daggerlike tip of a petal. Centering her attention, the mysterious blossom took shape and began to peel itself from the wall. As it rose from the silent bricks, a tainted life infused it with glossy blackness. The few rays of light pouring around the smokestack reflected off the delicate petals.
Madelin concentrated harder and other petals took shape, the bud opening itself to her. She was entranced by its dark beauty. As the lustrous black stem stretched out from the brick partition, needle-sharp thorns surfaced. Looking closer, she noticed that the stem was composed of numerous fine lines. Each stripe glistened wetly in its own separate color, but was overshadowed by the dark nature of the rose. Madelin followed individual lines up the stem, intrigued and horrified by the visible pulse within each one. They were like veins, and the worlds held within their boundaries were the life’s blood of the rose.
Madelin’s desire spoke from within and one vein began pulsing more than the others. Its crimson essence oozed from one petal’s tip. The vein throbbed faster, matching the rhythm of her heart, and the thick droplets fell to mix with the black tar below.
Madelin grasped the delicate petal and peeled it away from the flower. The blossom did not resist, but separated from the stem like ripping paper. The rip continued beyond the stem, slicing the bricks apart like a knife through butter. Once the opening was large enough, she let go of the rose petal. It fluttered to the ground and disappeared. The blossom glinted once more in the shadowed light before dying and falling to the floor itself. It too disappeared.
Madelin’s gaze shifted back to the rift as a slight breeze caught the edge. It rippled in the wind, and through the movement, she saw a murky red film separating the two worlds. Beyond that, a dwindling sun highlighted the treetops of a large forest.
Then the rooftop door burst from its hinges, bringing this world back into startling focus. A barrage of gunfire lit up her world from the other side of the brick wall. Madelin leaped around the chimney in time to see bullets whiz past her chosen protector, some thudding into the roof at his feet. Spurts of tar flew around him as he returned fire. It was as though his guardian angel had chosen this time to step into the fray. He stood tall in the dimming light, unmoving.
This won’t last, she thought as he drew the other weapon and unleashed the fury of both hand cannons. At least the size of the doorway is holding some at bay.
His legs were planted for support, but she knew his time was limited. The stain on his shirt grew to encompass his pant leg, and his head drooped unconsciously.
“Daniel,” she called out to him, but was drowned out by the roar of gunfire. “Daniel!” she screamed. Her voice cracked with the strain.
Daniel turned his head and spied Madelin waving him over. He continued the rapid fire but forced his legs into motion. With each footfall excruciating pain broke through his isolated calm. With the final step, two more pistols boomed in tandem. The first dug into Daniel’s muscled calf and he stumbled into Madelin’s arms. The second missed his forehead by a hair.
Madelin caught the brute of a man as he stumbled into her. His tense, muscled body landed in her hands and his feet tried to hold himself up out of stubborn futility. He clutched his guns in a death grip and his fingers continued to work the triggers, firing the last shots into the rooftop below. The click of hammers finding empty chambers accompanied her words as he gave in and slumped into her arms.
“I’ve got you, Daniel. I’ve got you,” she whispered.
The petite woman folded her arms around her protector and hefted him to the portal. His shallow breaths caressed her neck.
Thank goodness for small favors, she thought.
Clutching Daniel to her, she lifted him awkwardly over the rift’s threshold and through the crimson haze.
* * * * *
Chapter 10: Makeshift Remedies
Wednesday, June 21st
You never know what you’re capable of until pushed to the limit. Then, the unknown straps you down for another ride and you run and hide all over again. I’m ashamed to say that I fear the simplest things…
~Excerpt from the Journal of Madelin Boatweit~
Madelin’s first steps into the new world left her feet submerged in a moss-covered marsh. Looking around, Madelin ignored the strangeness of the environment. She searched for somewhere to lay him and free her hands. A large tree stood a few yards away, its roots elbowing above the marshy surface.
Lugging the well muscled veteran over, she propped him in its arms and raced back to the portal. Madelin pinched the edges of the tear together. She watched them merge into a thin scar, sealing out the black clad operatives as soon as they stepped around the chimney. With the rift closed, she turned back to Daniel. His broken body sat slumped over the crooked roots like a fallen king.
He did this to protect me, and he expected to die, she concluded. She was certain of it, but would not allow it to happen.
Madelin sloshed back through the muck and ripped small sections from the less stained portions of her kimono. She used them to clean his wounds. Then she folded other strips into squares and covered the bullet holes to stop the bleeding. By the time she was finished, her kimono came to her knees and covered very little of her stomach.
Pulling his shirt off, she tore it into long strips and wrapped them around his torso and leg. Then she pulled his stained undershirt back over his head to hold the bandage in place. Afterwards, she admired her rudimentary medical skills with pride.
It’s far from the care he’d receive at a hospital, even the one I left, she thought, but maybe it will do for now.
Cupping some water from the marsh, Madelin tipped her hand over his face. The revitalizing water awoke Daniel, wrenching him from the horrid memory he was reliving yet again. He opened his eyes and a pleasant sight greeted him with a smile.
She looks familiar, but where do I know her from? His memory lapsed from fatigue.
The cool sensation running over him soothed the pain that inflamed his leg and side. Looking up, he lost himself in her emerald eyes. Insects muttered in chorus-like conversation while stars passed overhead.
“Hello there,” she said, the words fluttering off her lips like butterflies.
He replied flippantly, “And hello to you, too. This is a hell of a dream, the best I’ve had in years.”
“Dream?” she asked. Her tipped han
d stopped midair.
“Yes, course I know it’s a dream, but that don’t mean you have to stop.” His words slurred as though intoxicated.
Madelin cupped another handful of water and poured it over his head. “And why do you think this is a dream?”
“Because if it weren’t I wouldn’t do this,” Daniel replied, his intentions clear to all but the most naïve.
With a time hardened hand, Daniel pulled her face down to his and caressed her lips. She tried to pull away, but within seconds a sweet affection she had never known delved past her defenses and sought refuge in her emotions. The suddenness of the kiss pushed all logic aside. Her attempts to break the embrace dwindled, and then stopped as passion took over. Minutes later, their faces parted. His hand caressed her cheek and he gazed into her eyes.
She spoke up breathily, “As much fun as that was … I have to say, this isn’t a dream.”
His smile disappeared as he jumpstarted his mind, searching his memories for a connection. “What do you mean? I remember getting shot, the nightmares, and then this. It has to be heaven or a dream. It isn’t what I expected, but I’ll take it.”
To allay his fears, she said, “Daniel, I shifted us into a different place while you were fighting the agents at your apartment. Remember me waving you over?”
There was little for him to remember outside of the firefight, but he thought he recalled seeing her before passing out. “Yeah … I think I do,” he said, somewhat unsure of himself.
“I carried you here and then closed the window.” After a moment she continued, “You were bleeding a lot, so I did my best to bandage the wounds. It looks like the one in your calf went all the way through, but the one in your side was deep. I wasn’t able to find the bullet. They seem pretty bad. We should find someone to look at it as soon as we can. I don’t know much about anything, but I tried.”
“I’d say you know a mite more than you think,” he commended. “I feel much better, so good I could’a swore I’d died and gone to heaven.” The reminder of what he had done came to him and he dropped his head, unable to meet her gaze. “My God, Madelin. I’m so sorry. I ain’t got an excuse, 'specially after what you did for me.” He would have cursed himself had he not thought it would offend her. “I’m so sorry.”
She spoke up with self assured vigor and tilted his grizzled face up to hers. “It’s okay. I understand. It felt great, but my life’s sort of confusing right now. I don’t know what’s going on, or even what’s coming around the next corner. As much as I enjoyed it, I think it would be best, simpler, if we just forgot about it for now.” Daniel nodded, but his eyes shouted his disappointment. Seeing this, she tried to assuage his feelings. “Maybe we can try it when our lives are figured out. I hardly know who I am right now. Besides, they’ll be on to us soon. Maybe we can get a head start before they figure out where we went.”
“Okay,” came his reluctant reply. After a minute’s thought, he probed a bit deeper. “Are you sure you’re okay with things the way they are?” he asked, a brief ember of hope rising from the depths.
“For now, yes.” Her answer ate at her as she watched the last flaming ember of his passion simmer and die. It was as though she doused his hopes in an endless cascade of water. Pushing his feelings aside, she tried to move on. “Do you think you can walk?”
“For now, yes,” he mimicked quietly, the words unconsciously barbed. His thoughts again turned to his accustomed solution, but there was not a bottle to be had.
Will I ever find anything stronger than water in this God-forsaken place? His hands shook at the thought.
Suppressing her emotions, Madelin ducked under his arm and helped him to his feet. Once they were situated, she scanned the world around them. Three different moons stood above and their colored moonbeams intermingled to cast shadows in odd directions. The moonlight reflected off the marsh water all around in a dazzling ballet of lights. A trail through the forest was lit like runway lights of blue, red, and gold. The path curved in the distance, but something else caught her attention. In that same direction, faint lights glimmered past the trees, drifting through the night. Thinking it might be a village, she set off down the waterlogged twilight path with Daniel in tow.
Daniel tried to bear as much of his own weight as possible and even found a branch to use as a crutch, but his body was still weak. After a time, he gave in and allowed her to support him over their long march. The pace she set was grueling but he kept his complaints to himself.
It was rare that she would stop, but the few times she did were blessings. The first time, he leaned against a nearby tree trunk, breathing in the night air and resting his limbs. It was then that he wondered how they got here. It had taken a while for her words to sink in, but hours of traveling had given him time to think.
Was it possible that she had done what she said?
As his thoughts progressed, exhaustion took hold and he drifted off to sleep. Each break Madelin would interrupt his long sought-after sleep, praise him on his surprising strength, and announce that she hoped to put enough distance between them and Leodenin’s men. He was amazed, too. He’d seen people keel over from less strain, but the reminder was enough to bring him back and get them moving again. Fear was a useful motivator.
* * * * *
Chapter 11: Irreparable Mistakes
The sudden thrust of his legs forced Jedd into the adjacent building, but at the moment of impact he vanished.
Sitting on the cheap hotel bed, Altran’s eyes jumped open, but he could still see his surroundings from seconds before. The black mane of hair that hung over the dark Father’s shoulders framed a pale face of hot fury. Smeared blood coated his arms.
How did I get back here, he wondered, and how did I manage to touch Father Leodenin? I remember the fight, but I couldn’t touch anything else. The stack of questions was growing like a pile of his son’s dirty laundry.
Unable to focus through the rush of adrenaline, his attention shifted. His thoughts turned to the family he had not seen in twelve years.
When did I last see Edwin? he whispered. He was two. I remember that much. He’d be in high school now.
He scolded himself for leaving as he always did but then reassured himself that it was for the best. If he had stayed, Edwin might not have made it to kindergarten.
And what about Faith? How is she? What kind of life has she led over the last dozen years? Being a single mother must have been difficult … What did I do to my family? The torturous questions ran through his mind. The hardships his family must have suffered were too much to bear. But Madelin suffered more, much more. How could I leave her alone in the world, at the hands of the agency that killed Lane and Waverly? I had to! he screamed through his thoughts. Her parents couldn’t do anything for her.
As the memory of the dream came back to him, Jedd relished the instant his fists met Father Leodenin’s muscled chest. A tainted smile played across his face as he remembered. The shock and pain on the shifter’s face brought Jedd pure ecstasy.
As consciousness returned, Jedd’s adrenaline level lowered and his muscles slackened. His mind numbed while the memories played through it, eventually returning to the orphaned girl and the knowledge that one broken man was her only defense. His scars proved he had survived vicious opponents and lived to tell the tale.
But how could he protect her from the agents swarming up the stairwell? he wondered. I have to go back.
Closing his eyes for yet another journey, he tried to focus on Madelin and where he had been minutes before. But each time, the furious face of Father Leodenin appeared, enraged and in pain. His leg was twisted amidst an assortment of black garbage bags. The PASTOR shifter screamed at him, spittle flying all around. Jedd looked up at the broken stairway and away from the man, but his eyes were drawn back to the crystal blue gaze. It was as though he had lost control.
Letting go of the connection, he drew back into his body, infuriated that he had not killed the man.
This is
n’t good, he thought. If he’s still alive, what happened to Maddy?
His eyes fluttered open in the cheap hotel room. Bringing himself out of the groggy sleep, a fog of lethargy took hold of his mind. Staring into the room, he could make out vague shapes and colors. This had happened before but not to this extent. His body felt like churned pudding and his arms were impossible to lift. Determination set in as his thoughts returned to Madelin.
How can I help her if I can’t reach her? he asked, infuriated by his own limitations. I’ve gotta find her in person, like I originally planned.
Summoning the willpower to overcome his body’s fatigued state, he pushed away the fog of exhaustion. The world came into focus. With a glance across the room, he scanned the mirror image of himself sitting against the faux-wood headboard. Some of the gauntness had come back.
Feeling seeped into his extremities, and there was a sensation of something congealing to his skin. Jedd looked closer. Something dark had splattered over his clothes and arms. Glancing at his hands, he discovered pints of the dark shifter’s blood, remnants of the fight.
Nothing’s ever carried over before, but there’s still a lot to learn, he reminded himself.
Slipping off the bed, he hobbled over to the hotel sink. He slid his hands and arms through the hot faucet water, ridding himself of the devilish man’s blood. Underneath the blood he discovered a host of bruises. His hands were tender and swollen. Aches and pains rippled through them. Running the hot water over his bruised knuckles felt like hell, but began to loosen his muscles. It took effort to unclench his fists. After a survey of the rest of his body, he grimaced at the multitude of tender brown spots.
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