Harbinger (The Bleeding Worlds)

by Justus R. Stone

  He kept his office Spartan—nothing but a desk and filing cabinet. Keep things simple, it made maintaining the charade easier.

  Mr. Baker fished a key from his pant pocket and unlocked the filing cabinet. From inside, he pulled a plain black flip cell phone. It lacked the streamlining of modern phones, but his people had always been more about function than form. He collapsed into his office chair and reclined. He punched a series of numbers and waited.

  A gruff male voice with a thick accent that Baker couldn’t place answered.

  “Hello.”

  Mr. Baker cleared his throat. “I’m calling with a status report.”

  “Ah, Mr. Baker. How did things proceed?”

  “He reacted to the Ambrosia field as predicted.”

  An excited anticipation in the man’s voice. “Did he awaken?”

  Such an idiotic question. “No.” Mr. Baker’s patience ran thin. If the boy had awakened, there would’ve been little need to call in an update. It would’ve made the evening news. “He did have a reaction. I believe things are in place. This weekend should reveal everything.”

  “Then we will fulfill the final prophecies of Delphi.”

  “Yes.” Mr. Baker said, a grin infecting his voice. “It will be glorious.”

  2/ Be Warned of Another's Woe

  Gwynn opened his eyes. The cold, damp sheets clung to his skin. He lay in bed trying to calm his ragged breathing, his eyes unfocused on the dark that surrounded him. His heart drummed a ferocious staccato against his rib cage.

  He had woken this way almost every night since he had regained consciousness in the hospital nearly ten years ago. The nightmare had become so familiar, nights it didn’t occur seemed odd and uncomfortable. Gwynn viewed the dream as evidence that he still loved and grieved for his parents. He worried that when the dreams ended for good it would be the night he no longer cared.

  Unknown minutes passed. When the dreams first woke Gwynn, he would stare at the clock, counting the minutes until his breathing normalized—it became a game to see how many times his heart pounded a minute. Almost a decade later, he didn’t care about those things. The dream became a part of him. It couldn’t hurt him—just be a reminder of the fracture that staggering amounts of therapy hadn’t fixed.

  Nervous energy and jumpy legs convinced him sleep wouldn’t come again. Gwynn turned over to see the harsh red digits of his clock. It read four thirty in the morning, Saturday, October 31. Halloween. Most importantly, the day of his first date with Sophia Murray.

  He stared at the clock, willing it to move faster. Gwynn had little desire to get out of bed, but lying doing nothing seemed even worse.

  He had avoided telling Jaimie about the incident in Mr. Baker’s class. He didn’t want to worry her when he had no idea what was happening. The memory of the girl, her laugh, somewhat familiar, still hovered over him. Was he losing it? Had Sophia’s first move snapped his fine hold on reality?

  “I never thought being a Shakespeare nerd would land you a girl.” Jaimie had difficulty containing herself when he told her.

  “I think it’s more than that.” He said the words, but his churning stomach served reminder he doubted it.

  “Wow, this may come as a shock, but I was seventeen once. I can almost guarantee you no girl asks a guy out just because he’s a Shakespeare nerd.”

  Gwynn started to grumble. But Jaimie’s smile and the joy in her eyes stopped him. Jaimie was twenty–four when she took him in. Pressed to describe their relationship, Gwynn would say they were friends more than anything. Without knowing it, Jaimie gave him what he needed. She never tried to replace his mother, but she did keep him in line. She gave Gwynn space, respect, and in turn, he tried to make her proud.

  “So what are the big plans for the night?”

  “I, um, don’t know. I’m meeting her at the 7/11 on Williams and then we’re going from there. She said we would be with some of her friends.”

  Jaimie’s eyebrow arched. “Ah, a trial date.”

  “A what?”

  She laughed. “A trial date. You know, when a girl thinks she likes a guy, she invites him to hang out with her and her friends. Because it’s not just the two of them, it isn’t the same pressure as a formal date, and she can see if the guy fits in with her friends.”

  “Oh.”

  “Come on, don’t get like that. After all, with that, ah, wit and charm of yours, I’m sure you’ll pass the audition successfully.”

  “Now you’re making fun of me.”

  “No, no. Just remembering what it was like to be a younger girl crushing on a guy. Really, I used to do it all the time. Hell, even if I thought I was totally in love with a guy, I did the trial date. Half the time I did it just so my friends would keep me from making a total ass of myself. Anyway, I really hope this girl is as great as you think. Cause if she hurts you, she’ll have to answer to me.”

  There were a million things to say, but he kept it to a simple “Thanks.”

  Now the day had arrived, and his stomach twisted in an increasing tangle of knots. Hour after agonizing hour passed. How many times could he wash or change clothes in a single day? No matter how many showers he took, no matter how many outfits he tried, nothing ever seemed right. Even his skin conspired to be awkward and uncomfortable. He would catch Jaimie out of the corner of his eye watching. Much to his surprise, she said nothing, but he caught the odd devious smile.

  It seemed that several days had passed when six thirty in the evening arrived. Gwynn dressed in black jeans and a grey sweater.

  He checked the brown mess he called hair. Despite his best attempts, it remained defiantly unkempt.

  “On your way?” Jaimie came down the hall.

  “I think so. No jokes, how do I look?”

  “Very handsome. If I was fifteen years younger, and we weren’t related, I’d date you.”

  “Kinda creepy." He smiled. "But, thanks.”

  “Go on, Romeo. Don’t keep the girl waiting. If you’re late that’ll be a strike against you right from the start.”

  “Okay. See you later.”

  “Sure. Be safe and have fun.”

  Gwynn bounced out the door. His heart raced and his stomach lurched back and forth. He gave a giddy laugh. Lord, he needed to get this out of his system before meeting Sophia. Scared, excited, his body just couldn't seem to decide.

  The 7/11 was just around the corner. A lightness in his pocket tipped him off that he’d forgotten his cell phone. Jaimie had gotten it for him two years ago. He carried it out of habit. He shrugged. No big loss. The only person who ever called him was Jaimie and he hoped she would have the good sense not to call him tonight, of all nights.

  Unseasonably warm air smelled fresh and miraculous. Especially compared to the last week where a chill and dampness seemed to creep into everything. Tonight had to be magic. Children ran in their costumes, filled with excitement that they didn’t need to hide under heavy coats this year. Gwynn had missed many Halloweens. After his parents died, he hadn’t the heart to go out alone. Not that he’d forgotten the allure. Free candy and treats, the inherent joy of a night where you could be something, someone…anything else. On Halloween, everyone lived between worlds. Maybe Halloween was the one night he belonged.

  A shadow moved in the corner of his eye. He spun around, expecting to see another child, but found nothing. Chills ran up his neck and his head prickled. He couldn’t help but take continuous glances over his shoulder.

  Despite the 7/11 regularly being a busy hang out, it seemed deserted. Gwynn supposed most people had somewhere better to be. He checked his watch. It read six fifty. Was ten minutes early enough? He didn’t see any sign of Sophia so he decided to kill time inside.

  The hard fluorescent lights stung his eyes and washed out the cream–colored walls that had once been white but had discolored with age and grime. A girlie mag occupied the clerk behind the counter—he couldn’t even be bothered to grunt some form of hello. Gwynn wandered the aisles, showing
enough interest to deflect suspicion, but he didn't intend on buying anything. Anxiety ruined any hope of eating, and the meager offerings on the magazine rack offered little that would entertain Gwynn as much as they did the store employee.

  Gwynn took another anxious glance at his watch. The blocky digits caused him further gastric discomfort. Five after seven. He started to worry Sophia asking him out was a cruel joke. In his mind, he had visions of Eric Haze, Sophia, and half or more of the football team having a good laugh, making bets on how long Gwynn would wander around the 7/11 before giving up. Were they hiding somewhere nearby, so they could confirm the time of his defeat and pay out to the winning bet? The back of his throat tightened, something heavy tugged at his core and his right hand burned with pins–and–needles.

  “Go home.” A voice whispered.

  The cashier remained buried in his magazine and oblivious to the store. Gwynn edged to the end of the aisle and peeked down one, then the other, but there was no sign of anyone else. In one of the security mirrors placed in a corner of the store, he caught sight of dark hair dashing just outside of view. He spun, again taking in the store. No matter what he heard, or thought he saw, he seemed alone with the clerk.

  Gwynn took a deep breath, counted one, two, three, four, five, and let it out slow. I am losing my mind.

  Before any phantom voices agreed, a roaring engine and thumping bass outside shattered the quiet. The sound even made the cashier bother to lift his head.

  Outside, a black car pulled up—some type of sports car, though Gwynn had no idea what—having never been much interested. The door opened, and some person Gwynn recognized from school hopped out. Gwynn waited for the pointing and laughing, but it didn’t happen. Instead, his schoolmate turned and popped the front seat forward so someone could climb out of the back. Gwynn caught sight of blond curls and for the first time that day, his stomach settled. His heart beat harder than usual with a joyful rhythm.

  “Go home now.” The phantom voice said in a growled whisper. He ignored it. It must be his nagging doubts and insecurities trying to hold him back. It sucked being alone. He didn’t want to feel separate and detached. He wanted grounding, to have something warm and meaningful to root him to the world. He wanted to be the one to make Sophia smile.

  Sophia got out of the car, searching the area. Gwynn raised his hand in a shy wave. When she caught sight of him, she gave a wide grin and bounced into the store.

  “Hey!”

  “Hi Sophia.”

  Her eyes got serious and her bottom lip pouted. “Sorry we’re late. Eric had to get gas. You haven’t been waiting long, have you?”

  Gwynn deflated at hearing Haze’s name, but when she grabbed his hand, a surge of invulnerability struck through.

  “Come on.” She said with a laugh. She nudged him out of the store to the waiting car.

  The guy who had let her out still stood holding the front seat down. He gave Gwynn an obligatory “hey” as he came out of the store. Sophia gave Gwynn a shove into the back seat and then hopped into the seat next to him.

  The “doorman” let the seat go and it sprung back with a thwump. He flopped in and pulled the door shut behind him.

  From the front, Eric turned around with his hyena grin. Gwynn never liked seeing Haze smile. Not a hyena tonight, more like a shark admiring his dinner.

  “Hey Gwynn.” He drawled, having to shout over the blasting volume of the music. Gwynn couldn’t even make out the song; the pounding bass obliterated all sense of melody. “Hope you’re ready. We’re going to have an awesome night.”

  The sound of screeching rubber accompanied the car peeling away. With Eric’s driving, the night could be dangerous.

  Sophia thrashed in her seat to the beat of the music. She laughed wild and high. “Isn’t this great? I love this song!”

  She seemed out of character, as if she forced a happy face on.

  Nerves? Gwynn wondered. No. Sophia nervous of being around a loser like him? Maybe that was the issue. Maybe she regretted asking him out and worried about what her friends thought. Cold doubt strummed his heart with its icy touch. Maybe this had been a mistake.

  Gwynn took a deep breath, and counted before releasing. Some random therapist in the past had taught him about breathing and counting. While he generally regarded therapy as useless quackery, he’d found use for the breathing techniques. It quieted his mind and helped bring things into focus.

  The car made an abrupt illegal U–turn and banked to the left, heading west on Williams.

  “So where are we going?” Gwynn asked more to Sophia, but loud enough that he might get a response from anyone.

  Sophia continued to thrash away to the pounding bass. Eric yelled from the front seat, “Big surprise, Gwynn. We’re meeting with some more people at the coffee shop on Kennedy and then everyone’s following us to our, uh, final destination.” Eric raised a hand, which his buddy high–fived with a laugh.

  “So am I the only one who has no idea where we’re going?” Gwynn started thinking exit strategies.

  “Nah. Me and Mike are the only two who know. That’s why we’re meeting up with everyone else, so they can follow. Even Sophia doesn’t know what we’re up to.”

  Gwynn found that hard to believe. Sophia never struck him as being the type to relinquish so much control. “Really?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Not a clue. They’ve been keeping it to themselves for weeks.”

  “So why didn’t I just meet you guys at Kennedy with everyone else?”

  “I knew the 7/11 was closer to your house. We had to drive this way, so I thought it would be easier.” Sophia said.

  A hazardous right turn and they were heading north on Kennedy toward some no name coffee shop that managed to survive the chains through the generous support of cheap students who enjoyed paying half the price for coffee and doughnuts. It also helped that they had a huge parking lot and never attempted to clear the dozens of kids that hung out there.

  Eric wrenched the car into the lot, causing a half dozen of his classmates to scatter for safety. A who’s who of the popular kids from North Field High had congregated. At least two–thirds of the football team, almost as much of the cheerleading squad, and some mix of the basketball team were present. Even their championship volleyball team was there. In all, there had to be thirty or more kids hanging out in the parking lot. This wasn’t Gwynn’s crowd. In truth, he didn’t have a crowd. It made him wonder how many levels of hell he’d see on this date with Sophia.

  The car stopped and Eric turned it off. The sudden silence seemed odd and out of place. Haze jumped out and his friend Mike stopped just long enough to pop the seat forward to allow Gwynn and Sophia to clamber out. Gwynn expected Sophia to dash off and start talking with the other groups of girls. Instead, she turned, her face apologetic.

  “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. We should’ve gone to see a good horror movie instead.”

  “It’s okay.” Gwynn inspected the gathering of people with trepidation. Did any of them know him? He knew all of them by reputation. His mind started working and he couldn’t resist the question it kept asking. “Why did you ask me to come along?”

  If the question surprised her, she didn’t show it. She gave the asphalt an absent–minded kick. “Honestly?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  “I hate it when all these people get together. There’s never enough room for everyone and their egos. You’ve always struck me as being kinda cool. You seem like you don’t need to get involved in all the games of who’s popular, who’s got the best car or clothes or make–up.”

  “Yeah well, I’m sure I could use some make–up, but my skin’s too sensitive.”

  Sophia laughed. Music to Gwynn.

  “See what I mean. You’re just… You. You don’t need to play all the games these people do. I just wanted someone…real. Guess it was kinda selfish. Sorry if you’re having a miserable time.” Her eyes locked on his, filled with a desperate hope that h
e was not as miserable as she suspected.

  “It’s fine. If we survive tonight, we’ll do a movie next time, okay?”

  “What do you mean survive tonight?” She sounded panicked.

  Gwynn laughed. “Seriously? Haven’t you been paying attention to Eric’s driving?”

  Sophia laughed, though it sounded nervous and relieved, as though she had avoided an untouchable subject.

  Eric approached with Mike. The two of them were slapping each other on the back, their smiles full of conspiracy.

  “Okay.” Eric said, “We’re good to go. Sophia, Gwynn, back in the car. We’re on our way to the night’s main event.”

  The assembled masses made for their cars. He gave Sophia a small shrug and opened the door for her with a slight bow. “After you Milady.”

  She gave him a smile and dropped into her seat.

  When all four were in the car, Eric headed out. This time, he kept to the limit, allowing the vehicles behind to keep pace. They headed north on Kennedy, heading toward the city outskirts. The subdivisions passed, their streets emptying of sugar giddy trick–or–treaters. It was almost eight. By now, Gwynn figured the ones left in the streets would be the kids that were too old to be seeking candy.

  Mayfield road formed a near magical boundary. On the South side, the suburbs with their houses and convenience stores surged like a wave right to the lakeshore. On the North side, farmland and wooded areas stretched out. If they continued driving north, they would not hit another city for about twenty–five minutes. In time, supposed “progress” would storm the boundaries and tear them down. Green fields and tall ancient trees would fall to bulldozers and be buried beneath concrete.

  They drove for another five minutes then turned east on a small side road that Gwynn didn’t catch the name of. There were no streetlights, but the near–full moon washed the open lane way in ashen white light.

  Sophia shifted in her seat. Her eyes darted about and she gave her nails a nervous chewing. Eric and Mike were talking up front, so Gwynn moved a little closer to Sophia and kept his voice hushed.

  “What’s wrong?”