Kennedy Awakens

by Greg Alldredge

  The creature scaled a drain spout and bounded to the roof of the historic building with Kennedy following close behind. The little man jumped through a sheet of glass that made up the great dome, disappearing into the dark open space beyond.

  Kennedy paused. Once the chase entered the marketplace, more security cameras would be trained to catch the events. The safety of the coven was quickly being compromised. From the roof, the Redman disappeared into the darkness of the upper story shops. Kennedy was ready to throw in the towel. Surely the broken glass had triggered any number of alarms.

  Ready to break off the chase, Kennedy paused when the bat made of twine returned to land on her outstretched hand. “The strange witch is below in one of the bars?” she asked while slapping her palm on a thigh.

  The bat nodded.

  That was too strange to be a coincidence.

  “Return and track.” The order slipped from the witch’s lips. She needed a clearer understanding of how the two events must be related. It was time to take a risk and enter the shops, if only to make sure the right person was accused of the crimes against magic. A quick check of the hoodie made sure all facial features remained hidden and a pair of leather gloves would hide her prints: Kennedy was as obscured from the cameras as possible. The high-tops let the witch move without a sound along the ridge of the roofline, closer to the broken pane of glass. Only a duck of the head and Kennedy could slip into the darkness that made up the great dome of Quincy Market and the shops below

  Not that Kennedy hadn’t broken the law, especially when it came to magic, but it had always been a matter of survival to follow the law whenever possible. People who showed little respect for the laws of civilization rarely maintained their freedom for long. Kennedy worked hard to maintain freedom.

  Before Kennedy reached the broken window, the stench of death and the sound of blowflies wafted from the opening. Something wasn’t right. Only a few hours ago, this building would have been full of norms all running about their daily business of unbridled consumerism. Always on the lookout for the next best thing to spend their hard-earned dollars on. The powers that be were always ready with the next diversion to keep the populations enthralled and out of energy to seek the truth of the world.

  There should be no rotting flesh and death in the shops below.

  The broken glass was nowhere large enough for even Kennedy’s willowy body to slip through. It would have been nice for there to be a spell to allow a person to pass through a pane of glass leaving it undisturbed, but the witch didn’t know of one. The leather-clad fist worked a charm to smash through an adjacent pane making the hole large enough for a human-sized body to slip into the building.

  The witch hoped that once inside, the stench and buzzing would diminish. Instead, a swarm of biting flies attacked before Kennedy had safely reached the walkway that encircled the rotunda. Relentless, the flies attacked eyes and ears, seeking out any exposed flesh to bite. They refused to give up the fight until Kennedy reached safe footing and mumbled a spell that charged the skin, turning the witch’s body into an effective bug zapper. The flies died in puffs of smoke each time they neared exposed flesh. Each zap came with a satisfying crackle when the insect died.

  Movement caught Kennedy’s attention, nearly causing the witch to jump over the second-story rail from fright. The path inside led to one of the many young adult clothing stores. Manikins dressed all in black, like escapees from the next great dystopian society, rode up and down on a cabled suspension system.

  To Kennedy, the look reminded her of witches being hung from a tree. Some marketing plebe must have thought the display would help sell teens more clothes. Matched with the stench and the flies, the whole scene in the dark became more macabre than it might have looked in the light of day. A chill ran down Kennedy’s spine, foreboding filling her mind.

  The Redman had vanished into the store. The red lights from the security cameras continued to flash, recording the finer details of Kennedy’s breaking and entering. There couldn’t be that much time to find the rogue Fae. Better to escape rather than be caught inside when the police arrived. Then some real magic might be needed to help with an escape.

  Movement once again, down the hall, in the dark. Followed by a voice. “Join us…”

  There was no reason for the terror that flashed into Kennedy’s mind, but the sound of the voice made her blood run cold. Some powerful magic gripped ahold of the witch’s mind. The smell was death and destruction.

  “Time to leave.” The words blurted from between her lips, but Kennedy never had the chance. One of the black-clad manikins reached out and grabbed the back of her hoodie. If Kennedy had not tied it tight, the cameras would have had a full view of the face hidden in the shadows of the hood.

  Kennedy found little recourse to escape. With a quick spin, a free right hand shot into the exposed chest of the plastic body. Without thought, the blow was augmented with a blast of magic. The fear of the moment overrode better judgment, and the energy expelled blasted the plastic zombie to pieces.

  The force of the thunderclap set off motion detectors throughout the building. Emergency lighting flashed on, bathing the space in bright halogen light.

  All night vision lost, Kennedy stumbled for the exit, only to find the way blocked by a small army of the stumbling plastic goth zombies. There was little choice now. Magic would be needed to save the situation.

  Alarm bells chimed, breaking the once silent room. Kennedy, with eyes screwed shut, powered up the bug zapper spell recently used. With a scream, a ball of energy burst forth from the witch’s body, flashing out in an all-encompassing sphere that shorted out all electronic devices, including the alarm and cameras. This is bad, Kennedy thought.

  A voice whispered, “Run away, little witch. Run for your life.”

  Kennedy’s eyes shot wide open, only to discover the smell of death lingered. The sound of flies still drifted from the broken glass of the dome. The whole shattering event had been thrust into her mind in an instant. The experience nearly caused a blackout. Not knowing what spell affected her mind in such a way, Kennedy fought to maintain balance on the ridgeline of the roof. Unsure what caused the attack or what kind of magic was involved, it was better to leave the area. Perhaps someone in the coven, one of the more experienced witches, might know what happened. Kennedy, in her previous 327 years of life, had never experienced such an attack. The effects blew the mind, made her question the very fabric of reality that surrounded her.

  Chapter 2:

  The sickening taste of bile filled the mage’s mouth. At her feet, there was a puddle of vomit. Wet dribbles ran down her chin and decorated her black hoodie.

  It was a given that any individual might react differently to the variable specific types of magical energy able to be employed. In her few years, nothing had affected her in such a way, made her lose control of her mental capabilities in such a profound way.

  Kennedy left the rooftop, still in a daze. All concerns of the Asian male and the Redman fell behind. Something had assaulted her mind. The shock of the intrusion left a scar on her soul not soon forgotten. Stumbling, she made her way through the drunks, heading home via the closest MBTA stop.

  She never made the train; a bus bench was the best she could do. Suffering from the wild magic trip, Kennedy fought with all her might to maintain consciousness. The cold invaded her normally warm body, sapping her strength and sending her into a dreamless slumber.

  <=OO=>

  Kennedy woke in the backseat of a car filled with clothes. The smell of norm was overpowering. Something had gone horribly wrong. In an instant, she knew her life was in danger.

  Bound, gagged, and immobile, there was little she could do but examine the disgusting area where she was held captive. From the angle she had been tossed into the backseat, she caught a glimpse of the person driving, who she assumed was her abductor.

  Each being had a scent about them, not really good or bad, the individual aroma made it easy for a witch
to tell something about the person they dealt with. For someone adept at reading the scents individuals gave off, it became easier to cold read a person. True motivations were hard to discover without asking questions, but general feelings and attitudes could be felt by simply being in close proximity to another’s body.

  It didn’t take an in-depth examination of the driver to know the older, balding white male held no good intentions for the witch, who looked like a teenage girl, tied up as a captive in his backseat. His scent screamed sadist, murderer. The man reeked of bacon and booze. That was everything Kennedy needed to know about the person who caught her weak and unaware.

  She screamed, but it did little good except make her head hurt. Drool puddled on the seat under her head.

  The man turned to inspect his catch. His thick glasses made his eyes huge, unnatural, inhuman. He moved his left hand up to his lips and placed his index finger before shushing her. He held something, showed it to her, and pressed a red button. The modified bark shock collar around her neck ignited every nerve ending in her small body. All control lost, she convulsed and contorted in pain.

  The shock ended, and she worked hard to focus her thoughts to kill the man as painfully as possible, once she gained her freedom. Her shocking ball of force would disable the car and the man, but it wouldn’t free Kennedy from the binds that held her tight.

  Instead of screaming once again, she focused on freeing either of her hands, then at least she might be able to cast.

  At the window, a movement caught her eye. Following outside in the cold was her bat made of twine. At the moment, it seemed strange. The spell should have fixated on the intended target, not bothered following the captured witch.

  It mattered little. Kennedy nearly freed a hand when the old man driving the car slammed on the breaks, sending the young witch crashing onto the filthy floorboard of the car. The driver was too busy concentrating on the happenings outside to know his life was about to change for the worse. Kennedy had one hand free and removed the gag, ready to break every law in the city concerning the use of magic.

  Before she could cast, the driver’s door to the car was flung open. The old man shouted, “What the—” He was cut off, finishing the sentence when a hand grabbed his shoulder and dragged him from the seat. It was impossible to miss the sound of bones snapping as the seatbelt failed to hold the middle-aged man safely in the driver’s seat. The screams of agony as he hit the pavement reverberated in Kennedy’s ears. Before she could sit up and lay eyes on the encounter, the car jostled as a new person sat in the driver’s seat.

  The twine bat entered the rear seat area and fluttered around her head. Hands free and gag removed, she touched her right index finger behind the new driver’s ear. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now?” The adrenaline that coursed through her body made it hard to keep her voice measured. This Saint Patrick’s holiday had not gone anything like she’d planned.

  “How about because I am driving, and you don’t want to kill us both?” The almond eyes of the driver looked in the rearview mirror, but that was not how Kennedy recognized the young man. It was his wild and spicy scent of magic that caught her attention. It was the Asian man she had sent the string to follow. “Oh, and I just saved you…”

  She had no reason to trust the new driver any more than the old man that had been thrown from the car. A quick glance out the window proved they were anything but safe. Still in downtown Boston, any number of cameras would have recorded the altercation at the car, and the man lying in the middle of the street would attract attention shortly. “Damn… I need to find somewhere safe.”

  “I have nowhere to go.” The man drove calmly, not like his life depended on it, which was good since they needed to slip out of town without a chase.

  “I owe you nothing…” Kennedy nearly added he could stop the car and let her out, but she knew at each street corner there was a camera, and each passing business had a lens pointed at the door. Every second that passed, they were probably being photographed dozens of times. The price of safety was an intrusion of the government into the everyday private lives of individuals. In this birthplace of freedom, privacy was freely given away.

  “I couldn’t leave you like that…” His voice seemed steady, but there were raw emotions hidden just under the surface. “But you’re right, you owe me nothing. I can leave, give you the car… make my own way.”

  Kennedy hated the feeling of owing anyone any favor. Normally, being friendly would only end up biting her in the ass. She didn’t want this person’s help. In reality, she wanted to know as little about him as possible. “Listen, take 93 north out of town to Malden… I will get you out of the city… safe. Then you’re on your own.”

  “Thanks…” He only took his eyes off the road for a second to scan the rearview mirror to check out Kennedy. She still held her index finger behind his ear. He might not know it, but she could scramble his brains in a second if he did the wrong thing. “My name is Tom… in case you wondered.”

  She didn’t. There was no need to know anything about him. She wanted to be free of anything to do with the man, but since he’d taken the time to help her, she felt obligated to do at least some small part to help him.

  “You got a name?” he asked

  This was the point Kennedy dreaded, that time when the small talk was needed to extricate herself from the everyday pleasantries most people took for granted. After 327 years of small talk, she had heard it all. There was no point in any of it. “Listen, thank you for the help. I will get you out of town before The Authority drops on you like a bag of hammers, then we can go our separate ways. We don’t really need to know one another, now do we?” Kennedy relaxed a little after she’d spoken her peace, even went as far as to remove her loaded finger from behind Tom’s ear. With both hands, she removed the damned collar from around her neck.

  “Yeah, sure, no need to get all emotional about it. Just trying to be friendly.” Tom shifted his gaze from the rearview mirror to the road ahead. He slipped the car into one of the many tunnels that connected the surface streets to the tunnels of the Big Dig that ran under the city. On the freeway, they would be out of the city in no time. Better for them, both of them.

  One burning question did eat at the back of Kennedy’s thoughts. “How did you find me? How did you know I needed help?” She cleared her throat. “Not that I needed help, I was almost free when you opened the door.”

  Tom smirked. His face screamed, “Yeah, sure,” even if his lips made the sounds of different words. “Your ball of string told me.”

  Kennedy never thought of that. The simple seeker spell should have never been capable of communicating with a target, how would this strange witch from another area even know… Where was his accent from? “Where you from, Tom? I know you’re not from around here. I would know.”

  “Down south.”

  “I know you’re not from Southie…”

  “No, North Carolina.”

  Kennedy never had a chance to make her follow-on comment. The stolen car traveled down the tunnel at the speed limit, while a massive concrete block fell from the ceiling of the tunnel at whatever rate objects fell to earth. Tom did an amazing job of cutting across three lanes of traffic to miss the slab of cement. The three cars behind him were not so lucky.

  Kennedy turned her head in time to watch the unfortunate motorists slam into the now blocked tunnel at full speed. The passenger side slapped against the Jersey barrier, throwing the car back into the traveling lane of traffic.

  “What the hell?” Tom shouted while he fought to keep control of the wheel.

  “Someone wants us to stay in the city, I think.” Kennedy watched the colliding cars out the back window. “Head south while I think…”

  Tom grunted his answer, doing his best to pass through the late-night traffic.

  If magic was used to bring down that panel, all hell was about to break loose. This time of night, there were few places to get off the streets and stay safe. Th
ey needed to get off the streets or out of the city. Either one would do, but somewhere neutral, not under the protection of one suspected house or the other.

  Kennedy knew where they were. This wasn’t too bad a part of town. Somehow Tom had them heading south on Merrimack. A safe house came to mind. “Turn right, we need to ditch this car.”

  They had made a large loop, not far from where the night all started. Little progress had been made. Just downtown from Quincy Market, for now, they traveled in circles, unable to escape the city.

  It was time to spend the rest of the evening with the company of Ogres.

  Down an alley, Tom parked the car.

  “Leave the keys in it,” Kennedy said as she slammed the rear door shut.

  For the most part, this section of town had gone through major gentrification. Most of the old homes and buildings had been turned into a series of overpriced lofts. That included a warehouse Kennedy knew had been in a family for centuries. However, there was no “front” door to the building. It was more of a back-alley kind of place. The building housed an after-hours club with an exclusive clientele. There was no neon light announcing the location of the door, as technically there was no door. Only a blank red brick wall, decorated with lurid graffiti.

  Kennedy found the brick she searched for and rapped three times on it, waited for a beat of one, and rapped another three. She snuck a quick peek as Tom watched her with a suspicious sideways glance.

  The painting on the wall morphed into a three-dimensional face that smiled in recognition. “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here,” the multicolored face said.

  “Bullshit, let us in.” Kennedy scowled back.

  “You look underaged, you got some ID?” the magic mouth continued.

  “Sure, just hurry up.” Kennedy held up a fifty-dollar bill and stuck it between the lips of the wall.