Water Nymph

by Edmund Hughes

  “Please,” he said. “These people didn’t do anything wrong. If I did something to offend you, then take it out on me, not them.”

  In truth, Jack could only guess at why the water nymph was doing what she did. He wasn’t even entirely sure that the creature had the capacity to consider her actions logically. She was like a force of nature, unthinking, uncaring, but occasionally playful.

  A winding pillar of water as wide across as Jack was tall spiraled up into where he levitated in the air. He dodged to the side and caught sight of the water nymph at the top of the pillar. She was swimming within it, but in such a way that her control of the water allowed her to maneuver through the air or wherever else she pleased.

  Jack gritted his teeth and summoned his Spectral Sword. The ethereal black and red blade appeared in his hand instantly, and though he really didn’t want to use it against the water nymph, he knew that he might have to. The flooding and storm were doing too much damage to the town. Too many lives were at risk for him to sit back and do nothing, given the choice.

  He let his levitation carry him sideways and burned through more of his blood essence reserves to gain enough height to pull himself onto the roof of a nearby, single-story dwelling. The water nymph splashed herself against a spot right next to him. She only stood to her feet for an instant before letting out a hissing screech and throwing herself at Jack.

  He swung his sword at her midriff, but she was faster than he’d been anticipating, and his arm struck against her instead of his weapon. Still, the blow was enough to send her flying off into open air, though the water in the streets below shifted to catch her and redirect her momentum.

  A wave splashed across the roof, knocking Jack’s feet out from underneath him. He dug his fingers into the shingles for purchase, but an instant later, water surged over his face, and into his mouth. It was only for an instant this time, but that was long enough to trigger his body’s instinctual panic at the idea of being drowned.

  The potion. He’d forgotten the fucking potion. It was back at the mansion, nestled within the pocket of his other pants. Jack tried not to let the vicious berating of his internal monologue distract him too much as he fell back into the flooded streets.

  This time, his feet didn’t touch bottom when he kicked them out. The water was flowing at a frenetic pace, and as much as he kicked and swiped his arms, he couldn’t regain control of his own direction. He’d just started to focus his blood essence to cast Shadow Levitation a second time when his head slammed against something hard enough to completely disorient him. A street sign, he mused to himself as he spun past it, bleeding from a new cut on the back of his scalp.

  He flailed about for something to grab onto, feeling a sudden sense of panic as he realized his situation. The water would carry him out to sea. The anxiety he’d felt earlier on the paddle board at the beach would be realized, except with nothing to hang onto and with the addition of a stronger current and storm conditions.

  Jack coughed up water and desperately tried to find purchase with his hands. His fingers brushed against something, and an instant later, he was in someone’s grip. Jack tightened his own hand, clasping onto the wrist of his savior for dear life.

  He heard the sound of someone grunting with exertion, and then he was on his knees, on top of a large box truck that had been too heavy for the water to sweep away. Jack gasped, taking deep, sustaining breaths of air and shivering from the cold.

  “Are you okay? Was anyone else with you?”

  Jack looked up, and directly into the face of Bruce. He was too tired to feel surprised, and too appreciative to care about the past.

  “Three others,” muttered Jack. “They should be on the statue in the center of town, if it’s still above water.”

  “I can see them,” said Bruce. “Good. That’s good…”

  Jack rose to his feet on top of the truck. The rain’s deluge had lessened slightly, and the floodwaters were surging back out to the ocean, dropping the water level down inch by inch from where it had peaked. He felt the spot on the back of his head where he’d hit the sign. There was a bit of swelling there and a mean bruise, but it was already starting to heal.

  “This is chaos,” said Jack. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Maybe we did something wrong,” said Bruce. “And maybe… we’re being punished for it.”

  Jack didn’t say anything to that. He was just too damn tired.

  CHAPTER 17

  He waited atop the truck with Bruce until the water level fell to about waist height. The two of them dropped down and slowly began making their way through town, calling out to survivors wherever they could. The storm had dispersed overhead, leaving only a drizzling rain that felt like gentle, falling tears.

  They found the woman with the children that Jack had saved earlier and brought all three along with them. The highest building within Lesser Town’s central area was the municipal center, and it seemed like the logical place for people to run to during a flooding emergency.

  The first level was completely ruined by the water. Filing cabinets and desks floated out of place, and a few had been emptied of their contents. Bits of paper and office supplies were arrayed across the floor and walls like discarded trash.

  The upper floors had fared slightly better, and the highest one had people as they’d hoped. A few dozen had gathered by the building’s windows, looking out across the town with worried expressions on their faces. Jack recognized Dave Stinson, the town’s mayor, and hurried over to him.

  “Dave,” said Jack. “You okay? What’s the situation?”

  “We’re fucked,” muttered Dave. “Everything’s fucked! This whole situation… This whole godforsaken island…”

  “Dave!” Jack set a hand on the mayor’s shoulder. “Hey, come on. What can we do to help?”

  Dave shook his head. He brought his hand to his forehead and let out a low, shaky sigh. Jack could understand at least part of what he was going through. The island wasn’t just his home. It was his life. It was his responsibility, and a single intense storm had basically rendered it uninhabitable, at least until repairs could be done.

  “I don’t know…” muttered Dave. “Sheriff Carter is usually the one who talks about disaster relief plans. But nobody’s seen him. He might be dead already. I don’t know what to do… This wasn’t my domain.”

  “We need to spread out and bring as many people up here as we can.”

  It was only then that Jack noticed Jessie, Sheriff Carter’s new deputy, who’d been consoling a few younger teenagers in the corner. She was out of uniform, dressed in a very girlish blue blouse and tight jeans.

  “Okay,” said Jack. “Were there any other places in town that you think might be harboring survivors?”

  “The Lestaron Gym was a designated storm shelter,” said Jessie. “It wasn’t intended to house people in the event of this level of flooding, but people might have still gone there, anyway.”

  “Alright.” Jack exhaled. He had something concrete he could do to help. A place he could go. People he could find. A distraction to prevent him from thinking about how it might all be his fault.

  He’d interacted with the water nymph, to start. Then he’d chosen to go looking for her, stirring the pot even further. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility to imagine that if he hadn’t found her on the beach that night he’d been at the cemetery, the entire tragedy might have been averted.

  “Keep on the lookout for the storm picking back up,” said Jessie. “This might just be a lull if it shifts direction, or even the eye of the storm.”

  She looked surprisingly confident, given the circumstances. She had an expression on her face that was a mixture of annoyance and determination, and Jack could understand why the sheriff had picked her to replace Bruce as his deputy.

  Thinking about the sheriff reminded him of the urgency of the situation. He nodded to Jessie and headed toward the stairs. Bruce was waiting by the door. He didn’t say anything to Jack b
ut immediately fell into step alongside him as they headed back out into the ruined town.

  “You saved me back there,” said Jack.

  Bruce was silent for a couple of seconds.

  “I didn’t do it for you,” he said. “I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

  Jack wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t feel like it was his place to judge Bruce’s motives, and he could kind of understand where the other man was coming from. The two of them had butted heads enough times over the past few months to make things complicated.

  They didn’t say anything to each other as they headed down the street. The water level had fallen to knee height, and they encountered a few survivors who’d managed to find shelter in random places. Jack directed each one back toward the municipal center.

  There were more survivors in the Lestaron Gym, along with a few bodies from those who hadn’t been lucky enough to make it up to the second floor in time. Jack let Bruce handle them, watching with a small amount of interest as Synda gave Bruce a tight hug. He’d heard a rumor about the two of them getting together from Katie, and he had the sense to move off to look for survivors elsewhere, given his own previous, relatively brief flirtations with her.

  Even though the storm had let up, Lesser Town was in bad shape. The water level had dropped below ankle height, but it was clear to Jack from the amount of debris and refuse strewn across the roads that they wouldn’t be navigable by cars for days or weeks to come. Most of the buildings in the half of the town nearest to the coast would need extensive repairs, assuming they weren’t condemned from the water damage.

  The hours passed quickly, with Jack working to help survivors and salvage what he could. Fresh food and bottled water would be in short supply for the days to come. He made his way to and from the municipal building several times, until it was clear that few living people were still left in town.

  “You should head home,” said Jessie. “Check in with anyone you have waiting for you.”

  “People still need help here,” said Jack. “And we haven’t found Sheriff Carter yet.”

  Jessie gave him a sad, tight-lipped smile. The sun had just begun to rise over the horizon, and the light allowed him to see just how tired she looked.

  “The sheriff might not be one of the ones that we find,” she said, slowly. “For now, at least, we’ll have to make do without him.”

  Jack massaged his temples. He really, really didn’t like the idea of the sheriff being a casualty of the storm. Over in the corner of the room, Mayor Stinson was sitting alone and staring numbly at a wall. Not exactly in a position to put on a strong face as the island’s leader in a time of crisis. Someone else would have to fill those shoes.

  “You look like you’re about to collapse on your feet,” said Jessie. “And your skin is so pale. You should at least rest here, if you don’t want to go home.”

  Jack took a deep breath, and made the mistake of inhaling through his nose. Jessie had a rich, summer smell, like fresh cut grass and flowers in bloom. Despite her boyish haircut, she wasn’t bad-looking.

  His throat felt a little itchy all the sudden, and the pulsing of his headache fell into the same rhythm as the beat of his heart, and the pumping of his…

  “You’re right,” muttered Jack. “I should head home. Make sure my people are okay.”

  And remove himself from the situation, and the dangerous direction his thoughts were rolling in.

  “If they’re up to it, we could use their help here,” said Jessie. “Seriously. If they could bring any dry food you have, or fresh water, it would be huge.”

  “Right,” said Jack. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  The walk out of town and back up the slope was grueling. The last of the storm clouds faded as quickly as they’d first appeared with the arrival of dawn, but that left the oppressive sun unobstructed. The bumps and bruises Jack had sustained began to ache anew, and without his vampiric regeneration, he could feel the pain in glorious detail.

  Mira was outside surveying the damage when he made it through the gate. Her golden hair was dry and loose across her shoulders, and she’d changed into jeans and one of Jack’s v-neck t-shirts, which did interesting things with her cleavage. She frowned when she saw him and hurried over to offer him a hand.

  “It’s bad, then?” she asked. “The town?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Real bad.”

  Mira nodded slowly.

  “They could use your help, if you’re willing,” he said.

  Mira squeezed his hand.

  “Of course,” she said. “You should get some rest, dearest Jack. You look… very worn.”

  Jack wasn’t about to disagree with that. Mira helped him up to his room and borrowed one of his backpacks. He remembered a second too late to ask her to check in on Ryoko and see if she was up to helping too. Mira was already out the front door and walking down the slope.

  He closed his eyes, feeling as though he was too anxious to get any proper sleep. He was wrong.

  CHAPTER 18

  Jack wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke up. He heard someone moving in his room and let out a yawn as he forced his eyes open.

  Ryoko was setting a food tray down on the bed stand next to him. She had on her maid uniform for the first time that Jack seen in a while, though she hadn’t put her hair up. She looked as tired as Jack felt, and when she noticed that he was awake, she gave him a weak smile.

  “Mr. Masterson,” she said.

  “Jack,” said Jack. He smirked and wagged a teasing finger at her. “Mr. Masterson was my grandfather.”

  “Jack,” Ryoko said, in a soft voice. “I… thought I’d try to make you brunch.”

  “Thank you,” said Jack.

  He looked over at the plate. She’d made waffles, bacon, and eggs, but somehow, each of the foods was slightly burnt.

  “It didn’t come out exactly as I wanted it to,” said Ryoko. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” said Jack. “It looks delicious. And it’s breakfast, or brunch, in bed. What kind of heathen would complain about that?”

  He sat up and pulled the plate onto his lap. Ryoko stood where she was, watching as he took a bite of the waffles. It didn’t taste bad, despite how it looked.

  “Is there anything you need me to take care of today?” asked Ryoko.

  Jack smiled at her. He was just glad to see her up and moving. She’d been in such a funk over the past few days that he’d been starting to get worried.

  “You can help out with small things around the mansion,” said Jack. “The storm hit pretty hard last night. There might be some debris in the yard or damage done to the house.”

  He considered sending her into town, as he’d suggested to Mira, but he wasn’t sure if she’d be up for it right away.

  “Of course.” Ryoko gave a small bow, holding it for a second or two longer than what was probably needed. Jack felt encouraged by her progress in at least getting out of bed, but he found that talking to her like this, like employer and employee, only made him miss her even more.

  “Ryoko,” he said. “I want us to have a night just for us, sometime soon. As soon as things settle down a little more here.”

  “I… would like that,” said Ryoko.

  Jack smiled at her, feeling encouraged by the way she looked back at him. She blushed slightly, and he was reminded of back when they’d first become intimate. The way she’d had so much conflict in between doing her job and, well, doing him.

  “Do you… need to feed?” asked Ryoko. “It’s been a while since you have.”

  She ran a hand along her neck, and her cheeks reddened even further. Jack could smell her from where he was in bed, a fresh, minty scent. He shook his head no, banishing the idea before it could take root.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “I’ve been trying to rely less on my abilities lately.”

  It was only partially true. Jack was fine, but only because of how much blood Mira had let him take the night
before. But seeing Ryoko out of bed and back on her feet made him think that maybe his bite had been the problem after all. The last thing he wanted to do, now that she was starting to feel better, was reintroduce the catalyst that might have triggered her gloomy mood in the first place.

  “Oh,” said Ryoko. “Right. Okay then.”

  She looked hurt by his refusal, which was a little confusing for him. He knew that his bite had a euphoric, some might say erotic, quality to it, but he was still drinking his victim’s blood. Ryoko was the one doing him a favor when she let him feed, not the other way around.

  Ryoko left the room before Jack could think of anything else to say to her. He ate his breakfast before slipping out of bed and looked out the window as he pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. The sky was thick with clouds and unusually dark for the time of day.

  Normally, he would have taken the weather in stride, given how much more freedom it would allow him to use his blood magic. But Jack was fairly certain that it was because of the water nymph’s influence, and it felt more like a not so subtle threat of another storm to come.

  This time, he made sure to take the breath potion with him, slipping it into his pocket before heading downstairs. He didn’t see Ryoko in the foyer or kitchen but decided it was probably best to give her some space.

  Jack walked a lap around the mansion’s grounds as soon as he was outside. He almost felt guilty about how well they’d fared, compared to Lesser Town. A few shingles were missing from the roof on one side, but that was about it. The grass felt wet and spongy under his feet, and a small runoff stream was still flowing outward from under the gate, down the slope.

  He blinked, realizing that there was someone walking toward the mansion’s gate. A tall man, with a prominent jawline and a muscular build. Streaks of grey ran through his dark brown hair, and he wore a black turtleneck over navy jeans. The man walked with purpose, scanning the area with his eyes, which settled on Jack as he drew closer.