Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves

by Richard M. Heredia

  It was all flashing through her head when she saw him.

  Her jaw dropped to the floor.

  Everything she had been thinking the second before was gone.

  She could feel Mikalah’s weight shift the air mattress underneath her. Her sister gained her feet.

  Elena did not bother to look back at her. Her gaze froze on the scene before her.

  He was walking toward the older girls, slow as though he was in a trance. His hands were out before him. His fingers splayed wide, as far as they could go. His eyes riveted to the two girls as they embraced and held onto each other.

  Their clutch was ferocious.

  Elena could see he was saying something - again and again - but he was too far away. He was saying it under his breath. She could not hear his words. Yet, somehow, she was certain he was repeating himself.

  How did he get over there so quick? she asked herself. One second he had been pondering his future with her and her sister. The next, he had traversed half the distance between them and the girls.

  Oblivious to all else around him, Louis continued step toward the sobbing young women. He was still mouthing the words Elena could not hear.

  To her astonishment, Louis hands burst into flame, as if doused with gasoline. They had ignited by an unseen spark.

  Unable to control herself, she stood. She dropped her toys on the ground before her. She was about to shout out in alarm, but found she could not. Her voice choked in her throat. Her fear had constricted her ability to make sound.

  Beside her, Elena could just make out Mikalah’s face as it began to blur. She knew in the next nanosecond that Mikalah was about to use her Gift. She was about to run faster than the sound.

  Yet, before Mikalah could move a centimeter, Louis’ hands descended. A moment later, they came to rest on Hyun’s back and Kimberly’s left knee. In an instant, the flames spread everywhere, consuming, ruining. They ravished the bodies of her newfound friends…

  Louis was killing them!

  Half a heartbeat later, Elena found her voice.

  She screamed.

  ~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~

  ~ 30 ~

  Healer

  Day Four, Sunday, 5:05 pm…

  Kimberly felt the golden light as much as she saw it beneath her closed eyelids. It was warm and soothing. It chased away the lingering chill, festering down in the marrow of her bones, in its’ entirety. To her, this was what it felt like to be a newborn baby, feeling safe and loved, protected from the world.

  Was it true? Was she bundled in swaddling and hugged by the great mother, smothered in her massive arms of warmth and affection?

  The sense of it was everywhere, overwhelming her unknowing heart and mind at the same time. She felt nothing else and would have been content to sleep. She could have abandoned herself to the notion she had not felt this secure, this good, in longer than she cared to remember. But the thought remained ghost-like, a phantom in her mind. She could have yearned for the time lost, away from herself, floundering in the reality of the life she had lived, and despaired.

  She did not.

  It was not a choice or an option. It was incomprehensible. In that specific space and time, her mind could not compute thoughts of that nature. They were alien to her, foreign, ambiguous. They made no impact on her whatsoever. They were concepts she did not have the capacity to recognize. Right then, bathed in the golden light, she lacked the curiosity, the will, the inspiration to try and understand why. She did not care. She knew no better. She was an infant. She was loved.

  She basked in the glory of the now, in the brilliance of righteous cleansing. She was joyous, canonized, as she felt the decay and rot slough off her heart, extinguish from her mind and dissipate from her soul. She breathed in the golden heat and embraced its’ warmth. When she exhaled, she knew she healed, somehow, some way - whether it was the past, present or future. Whatever it may have been, whatever it was or whatever it may bring, she could face it all with a brave heart and a sound mind.

  Although, she knew fundamentally she had not changed, her past was not someone else’s. It was no longer the center of her existence. It no longer defined who she was, and that slight change in perspective was enough. It was from this new vantage she could gaze - with her eyes wide open – and see the path she must lead. There had been nothing as plain as what she was seeing, right them. It had been years since she had last laid eyes upon this particular trail of hers. It was a path that would lead to her rediscovery, taking back what the pounding on the floor of that apartment had destroyed. It was the first step, before she took her first step. It was crucial. Just the ability to know the right direction was a thousand-fold improvement from where she had been only moments before. She could walk and talk and finally, know her actions for her own, know they were hers. They were not someone else’s. They were not thrust upon her. They did not force her to temper herself to the tune of other’s mood, or pleasure, just so she could just make it through the day. She saw herself - Kimberly Madison.

  And finally, she could see.

  She realized, as if she drank from the Elixir of Astonishment itself, just how important she was.

  Kimberly opened her eyes, and through the dark, straight strands of Hyun’s hair, she saw Louis bent over them. She felt his small hand on her knee. Unknowing, she blinked away the detritus about her eyes as if she had been asleep for an entire night.

  She felt Hyun stir in a similar fashion. She watched as the other girl pulled herself up. Their eyes locked, a questioning expression etching both of their faces.

  Hyun turned and glanced back at Louis, who had removed his hands from them, stepping back a pace and a half. His eyes were frenetic. His mouth formed a perfect “O”.

  Had he thought he’d done something wrong? Did he think he was bound for some sort of punishment?

  Then Kimberly’s ears filled with the sound of the thumping, running feet of the rest of their companions. Everyone was rushing toward them, eyes wild and bodies tense with fright.

  “What’s going on!” exclaimed Joaquin - the first of the group to arrive. He had run from the lower level. His chest was heaving as he looked at the three of them. “C’mon, tell me, I felt something… something I have never felt before. What happened?”

  Louis took another step away. “I… I don’t know…”

  Elena came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, reassuring the boy, who was nerve-wracked.

  “Louis’s hands were on fire. He touched Kimberly and Hyun. And for a second, it looked like he was setting them on fire too, but that did not happen. I mean, they did not catch fire or even burn. They just… just… well, um… they began to glow,” said Mikalah, answering Joaquin’s question as if she were on autopilot. Her eyes never deviated from Louis.

  “What do you mean, ‘they glowed’?” asked Anthony, who had joined them a moment after Joaquin had arrived.

  “She means just that, Tony. They glowed like light bulbs,” interrupted Elena.

  Mikalah, lost for words, scrutinized Louis as if she wanted to memorize every feature he possessed. She could not look away.

  “The fire from Louis hands went into them. They glowed with it! It was so beautiful! I cannot describe it, but you all have to believe me when I say it was wonderful!”

  The other members of the Fist and the Twelve exchanged worried looks. They were not sure of what to make of the girls explanations. Without speaking, they wondered if their brief respite was at an end.

  As if electrocuted, Hyun jolted in wild abandon, rocking Kimberly where she sat.

  The girl jumped to her feet from a kneeling position. There was a savage expression on her visage. She pulled at her shirt, threatening to tear it. Then, just as abrupt, she stopped. She peered at the rest of them. Her eyes wide with shock. She stood there completely still.

  The silence grew, the entire group poised, waited.

  “Anthony can you help me with my shirt?” she asked.

  It sounded lou
d in the midst of such a profound stillness about them; more than one of the group jumped, startled by the sound alone.

  Anthony’s mouth gaped. He had not expected Hyun to ask such a thing from him. He turned to glance at Sophie, who was standing beside him.

  She did not even look at him. Rather, she grabbed him by elbow and nudged him in Hyun’s direction. Her pretty face pinched by a curious scowl.

  At first, Hyun watched the exchange between the two without realizing the import of her request. When it hit her, she clarified what she meant. “I just need help taking off the bandages. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  Jason and Andrew sniffed an “oh come on!” as if they had rehearsed it.

  Anthony’s face softened with the comprehension of her words. Yet immediately thereafter, his look filled with a different type of concern. “Why would you want to do that, Hyun? It could reopen the wounds or expose you to infection. It doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

  “Would you just help me, please,” the girl insisted.

  Kimberly smirked on the inside.

  Once this chick gets something in her head, it’s like pulling teeth to get her to change her mind.

  “Anthony, go ahead,” urged Joaquin. “I don’t think it matters.” As usual, he did not divulge more, raising even more questions than answers.

  Glances that grew with unease exchanged.

  Though Kimberly knew something profound had happened to her. She was still in the dark.

  Hyun had realized something on her own.

  Joaquin had felt it too.

  Both the notions failed to explain it to the rest of them.

  “What are you saying?” asked Anthony, but Joaquin just motioned for him to proceed, still staring at Hyun with a partial look of excitement.

  “Just help her, Anthony,” pleaded Sophie, anxious, kneading her hands at her waist.

  “Ok,” he said, He came up to Hyun, his face a mask of foreboding. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  She looked up at him with a warm smile. “No worries.” She edged closer toward him, pulling her shirt up and revealing the tight bindings he and Sophie had put on earlier in the day.

  Kimberly sat up to get a better look at the scene before her.

  The others closed in as well, watching as Anthony unhinged the small metal clamps holding the Ace bandage in place.

  He put them on a nearby table. Then he began to unwind the elastic wraps from the girl’s body. He re-rolled it as he went, and made quick work of the task. In less than a minute, he had the entire bandage rolled. Hyun’s back exposed to the air.

  Around the straps of her bra, Kimberly could see the three puncture wounds. They were still covered by large square Band-Aids stained dark with dried blood.

  She could see the concern on Anthony's face. He stared at the condition of the bandages with hawk-like scrutiny, making sure they looked as they should. Redder blood would have meant the wound were still open and oozing.

  “Could you take one of the Band-Aids off please?” asked Hyun in a level tone.

  “Hyun, I’m not going to risk you getting sick,” was Anthony’s immediately response. Some of the authority he wore so casual on his shoulders came to bear.

  “Please… will you…?”

  Anthony looked at Sophie, who shrugged her shoulders, holding up her hands in surrender. His gaze shifted to Joaquin who nodded once more. “Drew, could you bring the First Aid kit just in case I have to patch her back up in a hurry?”

  Kimberly, in spite of her usual negative disposition on such matters, felt her heart warm at the thought of Anthony’s brotherly concern. He is a nice boy, just like Shawn, she concluded of a sudden, without thinking. Then, she was wondering what it would be like to have someone as caring and open - and real- in her arms.

  Wait, what?

  Andrew nodded and trotted to the large mountain of supplies they had gathered off the left. He rummaged around for a second or two, and then came back with the white, metal box with a large red cross stenciled upon it. It was the world-wide symbol for First Aid. He put it on the table near Anthony just as Anthony bent back toward Hyun and began to peel at the topmost bandage on her back.

  The Korean teen arched her back, so Anthony could have better access. She muttered a few silent “ouches” when the adhesive from the bandages stuck to her skin. He was pulling the tiny translucent hairs growing there. Anthony had to pull on it harder to separate it from her skin.

  Kimberly stood, her body moving of its’ own volition. Her curiosity peeked.

  From every direction, bodies, heads and eyes moved closer.

  Anthony tugged some more. Then, he stepped back with an outraged jerk, as if he had seen something vile writhing within the flesh of the girl before him.

  “What the hell!” he exclaimed.

  “What?” said a scared Sophie.

  The others rushed forward crowding around Hyun.

  Kimberly included.

  “There is no fucken wound, no cut, not even a scratch. It’s like she was never hurt at all!” continued Anthony unbelieving, completely ignoring everyone else around him. “What the hell is going on?”

  Kimberly could see his outburst had stupefied his sisters. They stood with their eyes bulging, their hands clasped into fists at either side. It was obvious to Kimberly, they were not accustomed to hearing their brother cuss.

  The entire group froze in their shoes. They looked from Hyun to one another and back to Hyun, only to repeat the entire process again.

  The silence was as thunderous as a freight train.

  “What does it mean, Tony?” questioned Mikalah. It was a shy inquiry as if she were afraid he might get angry.

  Joaquin answered for him though. “Louis has healed her. He is the Apithükri, the Hands of Health, the one who was born to heal every kind of ailment – mind, body and soul.”

  As one, they turned to face Louis, looks of wonder and amazement washed over the boy from all directions.

  But, it was Elena who spoke first: “Oh my god, Louis! That would makes you the greatest doctor of all time!”

  Then, Jason spoke next: “Someone, catch him! He’s gonna pass out!”

  ~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~

  ~ 31 ~

  Construction

  Day Four, Sunday, 6:13 pm…

  He had searching for more than half the day. He'd been skip- and jump-phasing from one place to another. He had covered more ground than he had the previous three days combined until at last, he found them. It had taken longer than he had anticipated, because they had hid in the most unexpected place. At least this was the case from his perspective. It was a place long venerated, decreed by many Angelinos from all walks of life as hallowed ground.

  Chavez Ravine. It was the home of the Los Angeles Dodgers and Dodger Stadium itself.

  Well shit man, not no more, he thought as he gazed down at the broad vista before him. There are no Doyers in this pinché place.

  All about him, the storm screamed. The wind sent the snow near-horizontal, fierce and stinging. It hit him from all directions as huge eddies of air pushed even larger volumes of the precipitation one way for a few moments. Then they sent it right back in the opposite direction in the next.

  He knew the air was well below freezing, but like the Gail force winds and the blizzard driving it, he did not feel it. He stood there, his clothes more tattered and worn than before. They weren't garments anymore. They resembled rags more than anything. He had not brushed at his hair or his teeth. He had not gleaned any of the grim and filth that had accumulated over his body since his arrival upon the Melded World. He had not eaten either. He had not gone to the bathroom, which was baffling. For some reason – at which he could only guess – there was no need. Somehow, in some unknown fashion, everything around him was providing him with what he needed. It sustained him when he should have been writhing on the ground dying of starvation or curled in an icy ball, dead from exposure.

  He was not though.r />
  In fact, he felt the precise opposite. It was as though he was drawing energy and nourishment from the world around him. And, he sent back the wasted by-products he manufactured from inside his body. It was an unexplainable transaction. He could not tell someone how he accomplished this. He doubted he had the words to describe it even if he could. In some way, drawn into the corner of his mind, he knew this to be true, but with so much else going on around him, he was content to leave it at that.

  If he could, he would have sworn to anyone, right then, right there, he was getting stronger by the hour. Underneath his shredded garments, he was beginning to notice the effect. Already, he could tell he had lost a few inches from his waistline. His gait had improved at a steady rate. By some miracle, the biting arthritis he had felt for years in his hips seemed to clip away. Like a dentist attacking the stubborn plaque of a neglected tooth, it disappeared. It sloughed off piece by piece, a methodical, but thorough approach. He felt taller was well, as though the fat about his waist transferred to his skeleton. It allowed him to look upon this new world around him from a loftier perch.

  He was standing on a narrow track, traversing the upper reaches of the southern ridge of the bowl-shaped valley below. It was no more than a foot path, sketched along what he remembered as Amador Street back home. If he were there, he would be looking into the open end of the stadium and facing its’ towering, multi-colored bleachers. Here, though, there was no vast parking lot, no Union 76 gas station and no buildings made by the hand of humans.

  Instead, before him was a sprawling camp, a fortified work stretching at least two thousand yards in diameter. Three of the ageless baseball stadiums, in a triangular configuration, would have fit within this vast circle.