A Neon Darkness

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A Neon Darkness Page 23

by Lauren Shippen


  “Who does that leave?”

  “There’s millions of people in this country, Damien—billions in the world.” He laughs. “I’m sure there’re people out there who would like you without all the extra stuff. Hell, I think you’ve found a couple of them already. Indah genuinely cares about you and Neon is mad as hell at you right now, but she only gets that way about people she considers family. And Marley—well, I can never really get a read on Marley, but I’ve seen you make him laugh, and that’s a pretty big accomplishment.”

  “That’s because I like making him laugh,” I admit. “I don’t know if any of it was genuine. I never know if it’s genuine…”

  The penny drops. I want something from Blaze after all. I want him to reassure me, but not about the way he feels—about the way they feel.

  “You think if I came back, they’d forgive me?” I ask, something slotting into place. I’ve never been in this position before—wanting something emotional from someone I’m not emotionally invested in—and it’s causing gears to click together inside of me, creating a sense of calm focus that I’ve never felt before.

  “I think they’ve already forgiven you,” he says, the words giving me a rush. “They want you back.”

  “You should call them,” I say, wheels turning. “You’ll need a ride back to the loft—tell them to come pick you up.”

  He does it immediately, hopping up from the couch like he’s not completely worn out. He picks up the phone, dials, and I can hear the ringing on the other end.

  “Hey,” he says. “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry it’s so late … Is everyone around?… Yeah, please check … Okay, then just tell him to meet us … Yeah, I’m with Damien—no, no, it’s cool … He helped me out tonight. I had a run-in with Isaiah—everything’s fine, I’m fine. We’re at Damien’s place—Indah knows where—yeah, the canals … Okay … Yep … See you soon.”

  He places the phone back in its cradle and turns to me, grinning.

  “They’re on their way,” he says. “And they’re gonna call Marley at the library and tell him to meet us here.”

  “Cool.” I nod slowly, trying to process the last minute. For the first time ever, I felt every inch of my ability working. Once I recognized the thread connecting me and Blaze—recognized what I wanted from him, what I was getting from him—it was easy to pull on it. And then I felt a bunch of strings and suddenly, it was like making a marionette dance. I couldn’t have scripted that phone conversation better. Every time I heard the topic turning, doubt creeping in from the other side—I couldn’t even hear the other side—I was able to steer it back, keep Blaze happy and compliant, singing the gospel of helpful Saint Damien.

  Blaze sighs contentedly as he sinks back into the couch, picking up the beer and taking a big gulp from it. I feel as satisfied as he looks. That was … intoxicating. How can any of the Unusuals have an issue with this? Think about how happy I could keep them. They could be happy and easygoing forever if I wanted it.

  Happy and easygoing is not the mood that they bring with them when they arrive. Neon and Indah rumble up on Neon’s motorcycle, and Marley must have been right behind them and parked on the street, walking up to the house as they’re dismounting the bike.

  “Welcome.” I smile, hanging on to the front door and feeling the tendrils of my ability go out to greet them. It’s like something clicked in my brain and now I can’t help but know what I’m doing. Is this what Neon meant when she talked about learning control? If I could have imagined this, I would have listened to her ages ago.

  “What the hell is going on, Damien,” Neon growls as she races up my front steps. Indah and Marley are close behind and soon we’re all standing in my living room, Blaze smiling up at everyone from his place on the couch.

  “Blaze came over for a drink,” I say sarcastically.

  “Where’s Isaiah?” Indah demands.

  “We don’t have to worry about that now,” I say, ushering them into the living room. Beer sits on the coffee table and they all automatically grab one, piling onto the couches and uncapping the bottles.

  “We don’t?” Indah asks, taking a sip of the beer. Oh god. I probably should have put out something non-alcoholic for her. I want to say something, point it out without making it my fault, but I think we probably have bigger issues at hand. Like getting everyone to stop worrying about Isaiah and settle in to wanting to be here.

  “We’re safe here, I promise,” I say, and that’s all it takes. Everyone relaxes into their seats and starts talking over each other, telling me what they’ve been up to for the last few weeks. Marley is almost done with his semester, Neon’s got a vintage bike at the shop that she’s fixing up, Indah has a new job at a bar a little farther away where she has to throw out patrons a lot less. We sit and have beers and laugh and it’s like the old times. But I want to go home.

  “Here.” Indah puts her hand on my arm, warm and familiar, and smiles at me. “Come home.”

  With her other hand, she holds out a set of keys, shiny and newly pressed. I don’t know if they’re hers or if she had a set made for me just in case, and I don’t want her to tell me the truth. I take them, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek, and I can feel her smile grow as my lips press to her face.

  “Let’s go,” I whisper, and seconds later everyone else is standing. I’m going home. I can feel the threads connecting me to everyone and I know they won’t stop me from going home. I have keys now. I hold open the door for everyone, mentally going through the standard checklist I go through when I leave a place and confirming that there’s nothing I’m leaving behind here.

  Neon is laughing, her head thrown back to share the joke with me as I step out onto the porch. Alex is already bounding down the steps, so much more carefree than when he arrived, with Marley and Indah trailing behind us, solid as ever.

  Everything that happens next happens very quickly. Neon’s laugh dies abruptly as a tall figure steps out of the shadows. There’s a click and a buzz and then Blaze, at the foot of the front steps, is twitching on the ground, two wires stuck to his T-shirt. Marley shouts and Indah runs toward him, but half a second later, Isaiah, in his long black coat, picks up the unconscious Blaze and throws him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, before disappearing into the dark of the alleyway next to the house.

  “Blaze!” Neon yells, and we go rushing after Isaiah, his pale head easy to follow in the darkness. But he’s moving unnaturally fast, getting to the street in record time and screeching away with Blaze in a car.

  “Fuck,” Marley says, and I look at the others for a clue as to what to do. Neon is gone and for a heart-stopping moment I think she’s been taken too. But then her motorcycle screams around the corner and takes off after Isaiah.

  “Come on,” I shout to Marley and Indah, gesturing to the Plymouth, parked halfway down the block. The three of us run toward it, piling in and giving chase. I catch up with Neon quickly, her body tense and bent over the bike. We rumble through the quiet streets of the neighborhood before the road opens up and we catch a clear sight of the other car before he makes a sharp turn.

  Following, we pull onto a narrow, two-lane highway, cliffs on one side and blackness on the other. I don’t have time to look or think about where we are, because Isaiah is driving at a breakneck speed and I have to push the Plymouth to match. He’s driving without headlights, and I keep losing him in the twists and turns of the road.

  We drive and drive, the road becoming more narrow and curved with each mile, the dark night sky above us oppressive and claustrophobic. I’m so focused on not killing Neon that I barely notice when I can’t see the other car at all anymore.

  Suddenly Neon’s bike, which has pulled ahead of me, turns and skids, wobbling for a millisecond, and my hands tighten around the steering wheel. I slam on the brakes, realizing just in time that she’s pulled into some sort of turnoff. There’s dirt and dust in her wake as she spins to a stop, and I turn the wheel sharply.

  “Fuck,” Marley y
elps next to me, and I hear the slap of leather as Indah tries to get a grip on the seat.

  The Plymouth rumbles onto the dirt, kicking even more of it up, creating a cloud that I can barely see Neon through. We hurtle to a stop, our bodies slamming against the doors and one another as the car finally stills.

  The dust is swirling around the car and through the haze I see Neon, her leg swinging over her bike as she reaches up to take off her helmet, and, distantly, another car, long and black like mine and yet somehow more hearselike.

  “Stay here,” I snap to Marley and Indah, pushing the driver’s-side door open and stepping out onto the dirt.

  I’m met with a rush of dust into my lungs and I cough. When the fit stops, I realize that, wherever we are, it’s loud. There’s a deep rumbling coming from the direction of the other car but it doesn’t seem to be turned on. I squint through the darkness and dust and see a tall figure emerge through the cloud.

  “The Pacific Ocean,” Isaiah croons, gliding toward me. “It’s quite noisy, isn’t it? Then again, it is right beneath us. It would be so terribly easy to tumble in.”

  The dust that the three vehicles kicked up is starting to settle and I get a better look at our surroundings. It’s not just a highway turnoff, it’s an overlook. There’s expansive, yawning black stretched out above us and across from us. It must be a moonless night, because there’s nothing reflecting on where I assume the water must be. Just inky black.

  “However, the racket will be useful in a moment, I should think.” Isaiah drifts past me, unconcerned with the fact that we tailed him here. I swivel my head around to look for Neon and see the blue ends of her hair first. She’s crouched slightly, moving toward the car, which seems to be moving amorphously.

  No, it’s not the car. There’s another dark figure, squirming on the ground next to it.

  “No,” the figure gasps, “you have to stay back.”

  Neon halts, her boots skidding on the uneven ground.

  “Blaze—”

  “Neon, get back!”

  Just as Blaze shouts, there’s an enormous explosion and fire fills my entire field of vision. The blast is so strong that it blows me off my feet, my back colliding with the Plymouth.

  There’s a horrible screaming, inhuman and piercing, and I clamber to my feet to see Blaze, his entire body consumed in twenty-foot flames, the tendrils of the fire snaking out onto the ground.

  “Very unfortunate, that,” Isaiah shouts over the flame. “Thank goodness we pulled over in time.”

  He looks toward Neon and me, grinning, his teeth glinting in the firelight. With the light coming off of Blaze, Isaiah is like something out of a horror movie, like a skeleton come alive, his eyes wide and unblinking and lifeless. He looks so pleased with himself, so unconcerned that the man he kidnapped has gone off like a bomb. It feels like the fire is inside me, rising up my throat, choking me with anger and disgust.

  “It will be over in a moment,” he sighs calmly. I want to walk toward Neon, who is panting, her hands on her knees, looking worriedly at Blaze, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  As much as I hate to admit it, Isaiah is right. A minute later, the fire is starting to come back down, soon just in a small radius around his body, and then Blaze isn’t on fire at all anymore and it’s as if the flames were holding him up—he collapses to the ground like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

  I hear the crunch of Neon’s boots as she takes a step toward him.

  “I wouldn’t do that, my dear,” Isaiah croons, pointing something at her. Neon straightens and stares Isaiah down.

  “That can’t hurt me,” she scoffs. “I’m a living Taser, that won’t do anything to me.”

  “This isn’t a Taser,” he says, and there’s the distinct click of a gun being cocked. Neon’s face drops and she shuffles back a few steps.

  “You can’t take him!” Indah shouts, and I look behind me to see her and Marley clambering out of the car.

  “I’m fairly certain I can,” he says, grinning.

  “I’d think again,” I growl, reaching my ability out, out, trying to grab hold of him.

  “You’re not strong enough to go up against me, Robert,” he says, moving the gun in my direction. I feel like I’m grasping at air, trying to catch hold of a cobweb. I thought I wanted more excitement, wanted to go on adventures with the Unusuals, but I don’t want to be shot by the side of a road, leaving my friends defenseless.

  Except, they’re not defenseless. Our bomb might be passed out, but we still have a very potent weapon—I know firsthand how debilitating Neon’s ability can be.

  There’s the snap of lightning, a bright flash of blue, and Isaiah falls to the ground.

  “Neon—” Indah gasps from behind me.

  “I didn’t—” I hear Neon gasp as she stops the stream of electricity. “He’s alive, right?”

  I’m too focused on the gun skittering out of Isaiah’s hand to check on the man himself, but before I can take two steps toward it, I see Isaiah is struggling to sit up, his arm reaching toward his weapon. I move faster, unencumbered while he still regains his faculties, and grab the gun just as his fingers stretch to touch it.

  “Stay down,” I say, pointing the gun at him like I know what I’m doing.

  “Damien, put the gun down,” Marley says, and I hear him take a few slow steps toward me.

  “Happily,” I say, hurling the gun with all my strength over the edge of the cliff, watching it disappear into the darkness. The ocean is so loud, I don’t even hear it hit the ground.

  “I don’t need a gun to grapple with you children,” Isaiah pants, struggling to his feet. When he’s upright, I’m reminded of how tall he really is—we’re only a few feet away from each other now and he looms over me like a tree.

  “Neon…,” I say, urging her to shock him again.

  “I—I’m not—” she stutters, sounding genuinely scared for the first time in her life.

  I can feel Marley behind me, equally as imposing as Isaiah, but I watch Isaiah reach into his pocket, maybe for the Taser, maybe for something worse, and I act fast. I reroute my focus away from Isaiah, all the while maintaining eye contact with him, keeping his attention on me, while I click into Neon instead.

  There’s another blast of blue, this time longer and more potent, and Isaiah is suddenly back on the ground, squirming like an ant under a magnifying glass, screaming in pain.

  Neon is shouting too, in surprise, as she watches the arc of electricity between her hands and the man convulsing in the dirt.

  “Neon, that’s enough—” Marley shouts when she doesn’t stop, and out of the corner of my eye I see Indah inching cautiously toward her girlfriend, her arms outstretched.

  “Nee, please stop,” she says soothingly, fear shaking her voice.

  “I’m not—” Neon gasps, and her terrified eyes are lit up by another surge of her electricity. Indah and Marley instinctively stumble backward, the glow of the electricity brighter than it’s ever been.

  Isaiah screams louder.

  “I can’t stop,” she shouts. “I don’t know what’s happening, I can’t stop!”

  Tears track down Neon’s cheeks, her hands trembling even as powerful streams of lightning shoot out from them. Indah and Marley are shouting as Neon sobs, the surge of power growing stronger and stronger. I watch Neon try to pull back her hands, make the electricity stop, but it comes pouring out of her, pushing violently into Isaiah’s body.

  Isaiah’s clothes are starting to smoke, but he’s still twitching, still shrieking. I don’t know how or why he hasn’t passed out yet but I know we can’t leave him conscious.

  “It’s okay, Neon,” I shout over all the noise. “You’re almost there.”

  “You…” Indah’s head whips toward me, a new kind of horror dawning in her face. There are tears in her eyes too, making the fear in them shine in the darkness. “Robert, are you doing this? Making her do this?”

  “We can’t leave him conscious, he’ll co
me after us,” I explain.

  “Please—” Neon whimpers, spurring Marley into action.

  “Then let’s just get in the car and go,” Marley says, groaning in effort as he picks Blaze up into his arms, cradling him like a swooned damsel. “He won’t be able to drive in that state—”

  We all look down to Isaiah, whose long black coat is singed on the edges, his short cropped hair standing on end. The screaming stops.

  As my horrified friends stare at the man, now gone quiet, but still wide-eyed and convulsing, I look back up at Blaze, safe in the protective arms of Marley. He won’t be safe as long as Isaiah is alive. And now that the Tall Man knows who we all are, has seen Neon’s ability in action, he’ll never leave us alone.

  “He’ll never leave us alone,” I say aloud, my mind making a decision without my thinking too much about it.

  “What are you—” Neon sobs as the lightning gets stronger, making Isaiah’s body spasm particularly hard on the ground. “Damien, please stop,” she howls, staring in horror at the body.

  “Just—it’ll be over soon,” I shout, convinced this is the only way. The electricity keeps pulsing until—

  Finally I see Isaiah’s body go completely limp. It jerks a few more times unnaturally, the movement reminding me of popping corn, and then finally, the lightning abruptly stops and Neon collapses forward on her hands. Her hair falls around her face like a curtain and her body starts heaving with sobs.

  “Is he…?” Indah is crouched on the ground, her hand gentle on Neon’s back, her gaze focused on the lifeless, open-eyed Isaiah.

  I take a few tentative steps toward the body, the smell of burnt flesh rising to meet me. Blaze’s skin isn’t affected by his ability, so it can’t be him. Looking down at Isaiah’s blank, pale face and his wide, unblinking eyes, the full weight of what just happened starts to settle on my shoulders.

  “He’s dead.”

  Indah chokes back a sob and Neon gags, throwing up onto the dirt below her. I look across Isaiah’s body to see Marley, still with Blaze in his arms, looking at me like he’s never seen me before.

 

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