Heart of the Resonant: Book 1: Pulse (Resonant Series)

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Heart of the Resonant: Book 1: Pulse (Resonant Series) Page 6

by B. C. Handler


  I rubbed the back of my neck and felt another pang of guilt. “Sorry about that, I’m a little on edge. In case that wasn’t obvious,” I said, gesturing to my bloodied clothes. I… just,” I fumbled. I let out a breath and faced her head on. “I’m Al,” I said, offering my hand.

  She retrieved her hat that had fallen off and looked at my hand. “N-Neepa,” she responded as she took my hand.

  I helped her up and processed the name. “Neepa? That’s a unique—What? You’re with the blonde and the big guy?”

  She blinked and cocked her head to the side. “You mean Eva and Iason?”

  “I don’t know, yes? Girl with a resting bitch-face, carrying around a bow, and black Conan walking around with a big-ass sword?”

  “Uh…” Neepa said, looking incredibly confused.

  “Forget it. What the hell is going on and what the hell are you guys doing?”

  “We’re…” she started then clacked her mouth shut. She spun around and pulled her hat down. “I’m not supposed to be talking to a native! Oh dear, I broke the rule, Oh,” she fretted, pacing side to side.

  I stared at her with a deadpan expression. The hell is going on?

  My attention left the pacing witch and onto the pendant she dropped from my surprise attack. I picked it up and felt a shock surge through me. A shock like discharging static electricity on a door knob. But the shock kept going, steadily, like a second pulse.

  Wasn’t exactly a bad feeling.

  “Why is this glowing?” I absently asked, dangling the pendant in front of my face.

  She turned and gasped. “No, don’t! Give it back!” She lunged for the pendant and I pulled it back and kept her at bay with my free arm.

  “What is ‘it’?” She stood a full head shorter than me so her reach was nowhere close.

  “You have no right to know!” she said then stood on her tiptoes for a better reach.

  I felt my eye twitch and my frustration boiled. I pressed firmly on her shoulder and she whimpered as I leaned into her face. “I was choked out by your friend, ran a fucking marathon for my life, watched people get gutted and eaten, and had to kill one of those things with my bare fucking hands. You know seem to be a part of that madness. Please. Please, just tell me this: is any of this really happening? Because I’m really starting to question my sanity here.”

  She held her hands close to her chest and drew a solemn face. I felt myself slipping, but I bit my tongue to keep me from going off the deep end. Her brown eyes softened and they bored into mine. It didn’t feel like she was looking at me, but into me, seeing the storm of fear and confusing roaring inside.

  I saw her mouth open to protest again, but she stopped herself and pressed her lips into a thin line. Her brows furrowed together and she let out a small whine. “I can’t… please understand.”

  I ground my teeth. All of this secrecy making me so frustrated that a wave of heat washed over my body. I shut my eyes and fought for calm.

  Something brushed on my forearm. I opened my eyes to see Neepa resting her hand on my forearm. She had a somber look on her face and her eyes didn’t meet mine.

  After a moment, she said, “I’m not sure if this will bring you much comfort, but I can assure that you’re not going insane. I’m sure this is all very difficult, but please hear me. I need the remnant back; time is running short for us. Please, Al.”

  “Is that what this thing is called?” I asked, holding up the pendant, sorry, remnant. “And what are you running out of time for?”

  Her eyes went wide, then she began waving her hands in front of her as if to erase her careless slip. “I, uh, no it’s not that, it’s…Give it back!” She lunged, catching me off guard. I pulled it back in time, but she over committed on her reach and plowed right into my chest. We both staggered back a couple feet before I fell with her on top of me.

  “I didn’t say anything, now give it back!” she shouted, pawing at my clenched fist.

  “What the hell, lady, that—UH!” I winced and sucked in a sharp breath when she rested her knee over my wounded stomach. She sat up on my lap and pulled her hand away in a panic

  “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

  “No shit!” I grimaced.

  “Oh, sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

  “Then stop jostling around!”

  “You!” a familiar voice bellowed.

  Eva emerged from an aisle with Iason behind her. She stood before Neepa and I, her gaze going up and down before settling on me, her eyes burning white hot.

  “What are you doing?” Eva asked slowly. Her eyes could’ve turned milk into curd.

  I looked back at Neepa, and my eyes drifted down to where she set herself. Neepa was essentially straddling my hips. Not exactly the most flattering position to be discovered in.

  Neepa spoke before I did. “I was trying to get the remnant back!”

  Eva saw the chain from my clenched hand and scowled. She stomped over and pulled Neepa off by her shoulders then stood over me. She stomped her boot over my wrist. I let out a cry, but held my fist closed tight.

  “Release it,” Eva demanded.

  “Tell me what the fuck is going on,” I said through clenched teeth.

  She gave her boot a sharp twist then knelt down and placed the knee of her other leg over my throat.

  “Release it or I’ll hack off your damned hand,” she whispered.

  I choked under her boot then opened my hand. Neepa gasped when I did.

  “Oh my…” she said reverently.

  Eva, too, was staring with an awe stricken face. “What the…”

  I looked to where they were staring and saw that the pendent wasn’t glowing with a pulsing golden glow anymore; it glowed a solid, bright white.

  Eva shook her head and snatched it from my hand before she eased her knee off my throat, the white light cutting abruptly. I coughed in a fit and sat up.

  “What the fuck! What the hell is that thing and what does the glowing—why is it glowing at all?” I asked.

  Eva tossed the pendant to Neepa and said, “Keep looking.”

  “But, Eva, the remnant—”

  “Now,” she ordered with no room for backtalk. Neepa tensed and gave me a fleeting glance before she went back to the trophy case. Eva set her sharp gaze back on me and stared, resting her hand over the dagger at her hip. “Who are you?”

  My gaze drifted to the dagger then back up. I swallowed a knot in my throat and said, “I can ask you the same thing.”

  “Eva!” Iason shouted. We both turned our heads to see Iason with his back to us and his sword drawn. Her eyes widened and she ran to join him. I climbed to my feet, winching as I moved, and then heard a very faint tone. It reminded of the hearing test I got at school a long time ago, the test tone they give to determine if you were hearing impaired. It was low and quiet, like someone testing the bass string of a cello.

  Neepa let out a trembling whine and when I went to glance at her, her face was white, fear construing her features.

  “Eva, Iason, he’s calling more of them!” the scared witch shouted.

  Down the aisle where the two knights were geared up, stood a lone figure in a black cloak, emitting an unsettling aura. After everything that has happened thus far, this anxiety was unusual. It was like seeing one of those monsters for the first time, the only difference now was whole other level of uncertainty.

  Eva cursed and raised her crossbow, firing off a bolt at the figure. His cloaked moved in front of him like a fabric specter, deflecting the racing bolt harmlessly. He pulled his hood back and stared at us with piercing, blue irises set in orbs of black. I recalled him; it was the one who murdered the kid in cold blood and turned him into a monster.

  “A Caster,” Eva stated much to her chagrin.

  From either side of the Caster, two gray monsters appeared, staring us down like gargoyle statues. The ambient white tone ceased and both monsters let out vicious roars and charged down the aisle.

  Panic gripped my sto
mach and I took a step back. As much as I’d love to understand what the hell is going on, I’d rather not get ripped apart and shat out by some “thing” or get turned into said “thing” by that Voldemort-looking motherfucker. I saw Neepa trembling in front of the trophy case, her beautiful face twisted in fear.

  “Don’t get distracted, keep looking,” Eva shouted. Neepa nodded and went back to what she was doing, dangling the pulsing pendant in front of the cases’ contents.

  I hated to admit it, but this most certainly wasn’t my place. Iason was right: this is beyond me. The others might be waiting for me somewhere outside; Caroline might be waiting for me. What if there are more monsters out there and they need my help?

  The raging beasts from down the aisle roared and charged alongside with the caster towards Eva and Iason. Iason tackled one of the beasts over his shoulder while swinging his sword at the second, narrowly dodging a blow from the Caster’s cloak. Iason pushed forward and the three of them disappeared out of sight, locked in battle.

  Eva slashed at the beast Iason tackled and dealt a sizable gash in its arm, but the beast retaliated with a slash of its own that she managed to block with her armored forearms, throwing her back. The stack her back collided with shook and deposited a dozen books on the floor. The impact didn’t faze her in the slightest and she went on the offensive.

  They all seemed very capable fighters. I would get in the way if I stuck around, not to mention killed. It was blind chance that I managed to survive all the shit that’s been thrown at me.

  After my choice was made, I only made it ten steps when Neepa screamed. A monster leapt from the top of the stacks like the other did to me, and surprised her while she was preoccupied. The monster clawed and pounded at her, but its blows struck a white haze inches from her outstretched arms. Neepa’s arms buckled and she let out a shrill shriek.

  Eva cried out and made a move to aid, but was reeled back into her battle with the other monster. Iason gone, still battling out of sight.

  My feet were moving before I realized it, and grabbed the American flag from the base as I passed the circulation desk. The bronze eagle rammed into the ribs of the beast and it rolled off Neepa. The flag was meant for patriotism, not stabbing. The blow felt solid, but it was still just a glorified shove. Milky eyes trained on me, and the monster’s razor-lined maw opened wide.

  “Neepa,” I whispered, “if you know of any weaknesses this thing has, now would be a good time to tell me.”

  She climbed to her feet and cowered behind me. “What do you mean weaknesses?”

  “Silver, garlic, water, or saying it’s name backwards, fucking anything?”

  “What good would any of that do?” she cried.

  “Throw me a fucking bone here,” I lashed out. The monster let out a low growl and rose to its full height. “Now, please.”

  “Uh–– uh, head—h-heart, those,” she stammered. “Anything less isn’t effective.”

  Shit. The hard way, then.

  It charged and I rammed the bronze eagle into its chest, maintaining a small buffer of distance. It’s muscled arm swing through the shaft, shattering it. The gold cord and tassel got tangled around its forearm in the process. A roar nearly deafened me from how near this thing was, then it swung at me with a gangly arm, its shiv-like claws missing me by a hair. Though the attack shortened my impromptu weapon, it did give it a point, which I used to ram at its chest. The attack landed high, puncturing the shoulder and pushing it back a step. It hissed and swing with the arm tangled in patriotic colors, the broken haft and tassel throwing off its aim.

  My abdomen throbbed and I held back a scream as I ducked. The sudden movement caused fresh blood to seep down my belly. I lost myself amidst the pain and saw the monster winding back to slash me to ribbons only for its hand to stop a few inches short, striking a wall of hazy white light.

  Bewildered, but not wanting to waste the opportunity, I took my makeshift spear and rammed into the monster's chest. It let out a wounded roar and stumbled backward, which I followed, pushing harder and harder to get through its ribcage.

  We came to a stop once the monster’s back collided into a wall. Lactic acid coursed through my forearms as I squeezed and rammed the gnarled stake as far as possible. The shaft gave a few extra inches and produced a sickening crunch, where an additional six inches of wood disappeared into sickly, grey flesh. There was a hiss, a gurgle, then nothing; the grotesque form going limp.

  I released my grip on the ruined flag pole, which stayed fixed in the monster’s chest as it slid off the wall, trailing a smear of gooey black blood where the tip punctured through the back. I collapsed to my knees, trying desperately to gasp while not barfing.

  I just killed another walking nightmare with basically a stick, and if it weren’t for a magically endowed beauty, I would’ve been dead.

  The shield of hazy light, was that her? What the fuck was that? A moot point to be thinking about the mysterious aid because if it didn’t show up then, my face would’ve turned into hamburger.

  Dead? I seriously almost died. Actually, this is like the third, fourth… fuck.

  My stomach turned and I had to hold a hand over my mouth as a sickly burp climbed up my throat.

  I jumped when something wrapped around my neck, but my fear faded when I heard Neepa’s shuddering voice.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she sobbed into my shoulder.

  “Neepa!” Eva cried.

  She ran up to us with a bloody dagger held at her side. The metal bracer on her left forearm was gone and there was a nasty gash in its place, though she didn’t seem to care. The longbow and quiver on her back was gone, no doubt slashed off considering all the gouge marks on her armor.

  “Are you okay,” she asked Neepa, shoving me out of the witches’ embrace.

  “Watch it,” I winced.

  Eva ignored me and helped Neepa to her feet.

  “Where’s Iason?” Neepa asked.

  “He’s fighting still fighting the Caster, we need to hel––”

  Iason’s body flew into view and smashed right through the circulation desk. He lay battered and bloody amongst the wood rubble, much like the first time I ever saw him. However, this time, he wasn’t showing any signs of getting up.

  His opponent walked into view calmly, looking no worse for wear from the engaged tussle it had with Iason.

  Eva paled and put herself in front of Neepa and me, miniature crossbow and dagger drawn.

  Whatever luck has been gracing me looks like it’s about spent.

  Chapter 5

  “Neepa,” Eva whispered. “Take the remnant and run, I’ll hold it off.”

  “No,” Neepa whimpered. “We leave together.”

  Eva glared over her shoulder. “Protecting you is my duty; you still have to do yours.”

  Before Neepa could protest, the Caster began approaching. Eva pounced towards him like a cheetah, moving far beyond what I thought would be humanly possible.

  As soon as she was within a few feet, the Caster’s cloak sent out a fabric tendril that wrapped around her waist and took her off her feet. She was slammed into a bookshelf on the left, where she let out a hoarse cry, and then she was smashed into a wall on the right. Finally, the tendril tossed her limp body over the Caster’s shoulder like she was a half-eaten apple.

  Neepa squeaked in fear. She hastily tugged on the hem of my shirt, pleading for me to get up. Fear had rendered me near immobilized; rising took so much effort, even with Neepa’s desperate tugging. My body was probably reaching the end of its reserves. Not that it was going to matter.

  The Caster stalked up to us, staring with an odd expression that was equal parts disinterest and intimidation. Neepa and I stood side by side like deer in the headlights of a semi.

  “Um,” I muttered.

  Not sure why that came out. I didn’t even have a plea ready. Just like when your parents found the flower vase you broke, you’re too scared to form a coherent response. But instead o
f a spanking, I was whipped across the room by the cloak’s tendril.

  The world rushed before my eyes in a blur, and I slammed back-first into a display case, shattering the glass and crushing the shelves. I crashed to the floor, landing on a generous sprinkling of glass, pain blooming from everywhere. That hit should’ve killed me, at least knocked me out.

  I rolled onto my side over glass, breathing sending sharp pains in my back and chest. Eva motionless not too far away. Past her I saw the Caster had Neepa by her throat, his hand drawing a dagger from his belt.

  The scene in the hallway played back, and I shuddered.

  Something. I had to do something, anything.

  I gasped while struggling to find my strength, but my body wouldn’t listen. Too much blood loss, too much damage, too much concussions. Wait, is that right? Concusi?

  Fuck I don’t know.

  Panic set in and I frantically looked around for anything that could help. My eyes fell on Eva’s miniature crossbow, the bolt still in the arrow slide just a few feet away.

  Neepa let out a terrified cry and struggled in the Caster’s grip. I crawled towards the crossbow with the same ferocity as a cockroach and snatched it up. I’ve shot a gun before, this shouldn’t be that different.

  I leveled the aiming post at the Caster’s head and squeezed the trigger. The bolt flew in a true path, but that damned cloak of his caught the arrow when it was mere inches from his pasty face. He looked over his shoulder and stared right at me.

  A chill ran down my spine and I let out a single, terrified breath, as if the last of my hope had just left me in that air. I dropped my head and pounded my fist once into the ground, feeling defeated. Keeping my head down, I spared the sight of him finishing off Neepa while I waited for my end.

  Approaching footsteps forced my head up. Neepa kicked and clawed at the tendril hoisting her in the air, while the Caster focused on me, creeping forward with his glowing dagger at his side.

  Pissed about the pot shot, huh?

  Looks like I got bumped up on his kill list. I stared at my bloody fist while cowering, waiting. Memories flooded back of old abusive homes. The vision little me glaring up at the sack of shit who liked to touch my other brothers and sisters playing back like an old film. I didn’t cower when I shattered his kneecap with the Chinese checkers board. I managed then when I was a scrawny whip; I’m a man now, why give up now?

 

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