by Xavier Neal
“I don’t have much else. I mean, I’ve got enough cocktail dresses to open a boutique, but I don’t have casual wear. I’m not casual. I’ve never even been to a party since I’ve moved here.” The words fall out of my mouth as I lean against the wall.
“Do you mind if I look?” The question seems heartfelt.
“By all means.” I usher him to my room and to my full length wall closet.
While I wait, I sit on my king sized bed, my attention drifting around my room to my faded, light blue walls with paint splashes on them. I’m desperate to repaint. Within a matter of moments, Justin turns around with a partially defeated look on his face.
“So, really nothing.” His head bobs around for a second.
“Really.”
After a long, hard stare at me, a crooked grin comes across his face. “I have an idea. Stand up.”
Curious, I do as he asks and stand up in my black flip flops. Justin grabs the dagger from his back pocket and dips the tip in yellow dust before kneeling down in front of me. I watch as, in one clean slice, he cuts my skirt, transforming it into a mini without so much as a second thought. Quickly, he rises to his feet, tosses the fabric to the side, and takes the same blade to my shoulder. Nervous, I clench my body up as he cuts my sleeves and slices a deep V in the front. Like this is an everyday occurrence, he twirls the knife back around and slips it in his back pocket.
“Much better.” He compliments himself. With a tilt of his head, he points to my feet. “Heels.”
“Okay.”I smile softly as Justin heads toward my door. “Hey, do you mind if I use the bathroom?” he asks.
“Sure. It’s the second door on your right.”
“What’s this one?” He points to the door in front of my room.
“Dad’s extra office. He keeps more books and paperwork in there.” I shrug it off, strolling over to my closet.
“Meet me downstairs?”
“Yeah.” I nod, searching my closet for a pair of heels.
After a quick change, I’m downstairs just in time to see Justin shirtless once more. Doing my best not to be hypnotized by the sight that would even make angels blush, I approach his vehicle.
“I have to make a stop.” He slips into a gray, designer, button-up shirt. While buttoning it up, he sighs. “Are you okay with that?”
Sarcastically, I ask, “Will I be shot at or kidnapped?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” A small chuckle escapes him before he exchanges his black fedora for a different black fedora with a gray ribbon.
The two of us slip into the car, and I quickly buckle my seat belt, while he lets the top down. My head instantly looks up to admire the night sky, which seems to be shining brighter than usual as we pull onto the main highway.
Slightly concerned, I ask, “Where exactly are we going?”
“Well”—he turns on his blinker, switching lanes so he is behind the only other vehicle on this stretch of the highway, “now that the Dark Watchers know where you are, we have to make a few minor adjustments for extra security.”
“The who?” My voice squeaks.
“The guys all in black who keep attacking us.” He turns off his blinker, allowing the SUV in front of him to drift beside him, and slows down behind an eighteen-wheeler that I don’t recall seeing earlier. Before my mouth can open to question further, it’s snapped closed by the fact the trailer door flies open and a ramp hits the road, causing sparks to fly. Shifting gears, Justin drives up the ramp and into the back of the empty truck.
I turn around to see the door shutting behind us, which is when a bit of panic sweeps over my body.“Um, do you know that we’re in the truck? Like in the back? And now we’re closed in?”
“Yup.” The fact that he is nonchalant about it only seems to frighten me more. I drop my jaw to ask another question when he slides his hand over to my lap, pulls the glove compartment open, and takes out an envelope. Deciding it would probably be in my best interest to keep my mouth closed, I rest my head on the back of the seat, surprised that there are lights back here.
I watch as Justin pulls out a stack of seaweed green paper that resembles cash that has been washed one too many times. My eyes notice that the faces in the middle of the bills aren’t presidents, however, so much as something that could easily be mistaken for a mermaid. Folding a wad of it up, he slides it in his pocket and the envelope back into the glove compartment.
“You’re nervous.” His voice coos as his head turns to face mine. As there’s no response, he quickly sighs.
“Don’t be.”
“How can you tell me not to be? I’ve been shot at, car chased, almost kidnapped, and robbed within a matter of days.”
“And haven’t I been there every step of the way to protect you? To save you?”
“Well yeah, but—”
“But what, Peyton? If that doesn’t help console your fears, what will? Why do you feel you can’t trust me?” The words sound as if they are sneaking up from a broken place in his heart.
“It’s not that I don’t feel I can’t trust you, it’s…”
“What?” he asks quickly. “What is it, then?”
“Trust is like a vase, Justin. Once you break it, you can fix it, but it’ll never be the same.” The words slip off my tongue slowly. “My father taught me that. So, yeah, you’ve saved my life, but you won’t tell me why my life is at risk. It’s not easy following you around blindly. I want to trust you, but I just don’t know. I just don’t.”
His hand slides over to mine, folding it in tightly, before he nods. “Shakespeare once said, ‘If to do were as easy to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches and poor men’s cottages, princes’ palaces.’”
Suddenly, the truck comes to a halt, and I try to paint a warmer smile on my face. He’s right. If everything in life were easy to do, it wouldn’t really be called living. The truck’s back door slides itself open, and Justin motions for us to get out. Following his move, I exit the car and move down the ramp to enter a warehouse. “My favorite customer,” cackles a small man with no hair on top. Quickly, he waves his stubby, peach colored arms, motioning us in his direction. “Come, come. Come see the amazing things I have got in store for you!”
“We’re coming, Jimmy.” Justin grabs my hand to pull me closer to him.
We follow him down a narrow hallway and into a large showroom, the kind you usually see luxury sports cars displayed in; where model vehicles should be are oversized boats the size of extravagant yachts. Jimmy hits a button on the wall, and wood panel doors flip over to reveal walls and walls of swords, daggers, knives, guns, and every other weapon imaginable, unimaginable, and for that matter, known and unknown to man.
“Wow.” My voice squeaks. “What is this place?”
Ignoring my question, he drags me over to the wall of swords and begins admiring them like pieces of art. “Here’s the problem, Jimmy. These are state of the art.”
“One blow, one blast.” Jimmy jumps in excitement, clapping his hands. “One thrust, one go. These are the best, Justin!”
Justin holds up a hand to help calm Jimmy down before he continues. “But here, trying to conceal these things is a problem. Sure, at home, it’s no big whoop carrying around something this small,” his hand points to something almost as tall as me, “but here…”
“I see, I see.” The man nods his head profusely and hums to himself a few times. Quickly, the words rush out of his mouth. “What about this? This is a great sword. Swift! Sturdy! Chic!”
“I’m looking for weapons dagger size.” Justin points toward the wall full of sparkling objects similar to those he was using earlier.
“But, you have so many of those.” Jimmy whines. “Then, give me something to work with.”
“What about a retractable sword?” The offer stops Justin in his tracks. Slowly, he turns around, and a creepy grin crawls across Jimmy’s face. “Ah, yes, a retractable sword. How about one custommade for you? To look like anything you want.”
>
“I doubt you could make it look like a tie.”
“Is that a challenge?” A gleam overcomes Jimmy.
“Is it?” Justin winks as he glances over the swords. “I would need one with the buoyancy of that one.” His hand extends to a black handled one toward the top. Lowering his hand, then, he points to one with a black blade. “And the perfect precision of that one.” After lingering for a minute, he points to a sword whose handle is rustic. “And the authenticity of this one.”
“I can do that for you.” He agrees, nodding his head and twiddling his thumbs. “When do you need it?”
“ASAP.” Justin tilts his hat up and leads me toward a series of different types of crossbows and weapons that require arrows. With a pleased look, he sighs. “Now, these I like.”
His hand slides away from mine as he picks up a painted green crossbow that has a round of small, silver bolts attached. Confused, I stare at the contraption, which resembles a sniper rifle with a scope mounted on the top. Happily, he slowly turns around to Jimmy’s direction. The look of pleasure is immediately erased from his face, which forces me to turn my head to a sight I’m frankly tired of seeing.
“Jimmy,” Justin says through gritted teeth. “Promise you won’t charge me?”
“For what?” Jimmy’s unsteady voice croaks as he pulls on his bright red suspenders.
“This.” A silver bolt blazes out of the weapon and straight through the foreheads of two Dark Watchers. As they disappear into thick smoke, the crossbow automatically loads another bolt, allowing Justin to fire directly down the hallway, where more Dark Watchers are flooding through.
Grabbing another weapon similar to the one in his hand, he snaps. “Get down!”
Suddenly, tiny bead like bullets come flying from all directions as we scamper across the floor toward the boats spinning on the showroom floor. Jimmy’s tiny legs move as fast as they can to keep up with us as he tosses what looks like a tennis ball in their direction.
A moment later, a minor explosion comes from the ball that layers dark red smoke around us, giving us the chance to disappear into the opening of the giant, white boat without being seen.
Once inside, I rest my head against the door and croak. “You said I wouldn’t get shot at!”
“To be fair, I said not that I know of.”
“Seriously,” I huff and move the hair out of my face, “how did they find us?”
“I don’t know,” Justin answers, loading up the other crossbow he grabbed. This one has a hot pink handle and gold bolts attached. Quickly, he hands it to me and shakes his head. “But believe me, I’m going to find out.” Shaking, my jaw bobs up and down as Jimmy begins opening different compartments in the basement of the boat while muttering. “No one is supposed to know I’m here. No one, Justin. That’s why we conduct business the way we do.”
Justin snaps angrily, checking the empty compartments as well. “Don’t you think I know that?”
“Then, why are they here?” The elf sized weapons dealer grumbles, discovering a set of white golf balls that I assume aren’t actually golf balls.
With a deep breath, Justin heads toward the set of steep stairs. “I don’t know, Jimmy. But for right now, Peyton, I need you to use that thing in your hands.”
“What do you expect me to do? Throw it? I’ve never used let alone even seen anything like this before! I mean, I—”
Suddenly, the sound of bullets pinging off the outside of the boat assails us. Surprised they aren’t penetrating through, Justin asks, “Did you bulletproof this one?”
Jimmy proudly nods. “A little bit.”
“Nice.” Justin’s approval is followed by my highpitched scream as a bullet hits the wall beside me.
“Um, can we focus here?” I yell, the weapon quivering in my hands.
“Peyton, you ever played a video game?”
“Once or twice.”
“It’s just like that, except instead of bonus points when you hit several in a row, you get to enjoy having a few more moments to live.” The attempt at comforting me fails as he rambos his way up the stairs.
Giving my hair a ruffle, I ask Jimmy, “Was that seriously supposed to be motivational? Because, if so, I think he’s losing his touch.” Jimmy barks a small laugh, and I whine.“How exactly are we supposed to help him from down here?”
“Easy.” Jimmy pushes a big, red button on the wall next to the door. Small peepholes pop up around the ship, giving us access to view Dark Watchers falling from the vents in the ceiling as well as strolling down the hall. “Installed these along with a few other things I knew would come in handy to anyone on this ship.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
Jimmy slides a wood panel over and pulls a small lever, and compartments below the peepholes fall open full of swords, daggers, and rows of small, colorful arrows.
The sound of Justin’s bolts hitting the attackers draw my attention back to the problem at hand. Nervous, I raise my weapon to the window, slide the glass open, look through the scope, and pinpoint my sights on the ones falling from the ceiling. With a lucky shot, my first bolt flies through the air and lands right in one’s heart. However, instead of disappearing into thin air, the character’s face, which isn’t covered by a mask this time, turns a bright blue color before dropping off the rope and to the ground, where it dashes into the now familiar thick, gray smoke.
“Why did it turn blue?” A panic hits my heart as more projectiles fly back and forth.
“Because those are freezing bolts. They froze its insides, and when it fell, it shattered like ice.” Jimmy smiles proudly.
“Why would you make something like that?”
Jimmy pauses, throwing his golf ball out the window before answering. “For fun.” The crazy dwarf cackles, while the white ball rolls to the middle of the crowd, expands, and shoots small bullets all around, destroying several of the Dark Watchers.
Another creature pops its face, which has a gaping scar down the side, in the window. Reacting instantly, I turn the bow, shove it in its face, and pull the trigger. The Dark Watcher freezes before falling backward and shattering the moment Justin travels down the stairs.
“Impressive!” The word sends tingles down my spine. Justin sighs. “We can’t stay here. We’re like sitting ducks in this ship. Where are the keys?”
“Office.” Jimmy nods the direction of a small, closed off area. The three of us peek through the windows to see a few more Dark Watchers falling from the ceiling right in our way.
Justin asks calmly, “And the keys to office?”
“In the front seat of the truck.”
The words make Justin thunk his head into the wall fiercely. Mildly frustrated, he repeats to himself. “So, we’re in a boat that doesn’t move because the keys are in your office, but the keys to your office are in a truck, which we can’t get to without likely being massacred.”
“You’ve been in worse.” Jimmy’s retort puts a small smirk on Justin’s beautiful face.
“It’s true.” He grumbles, tapping the side of the wall. Leaning down, Justin stares at the enemies, who for the vast majority, are pouring from the ceiling through three vent holes. “If we could just seal those, we could make a run for it to the truck. I mean, most of the ones on the floor are quick kills. Our biggest problem is what’s coming from the rooftop.”
“If we close the vents and trap them inside, won’t that force them to use the other entrance instead?”
Jimmy tosses another golf ball out the window. “Yes,” Justin sighs deeply, “but if we make it to the truck before that happens, it’s a lot easier to run them over than to keep shooting them like duck hunters. Here’s what we’re going to do: I’m going to shoot them closed; Jimmy, you’re going to throw two balls on the flanks; and Peyton, you’re going to start to make a run for it.”
“By myself?” The pressure of this situation has caused a serious increase in my heart rate.
“We’ll be behind you shortly.”
“In heels?” After a sarcastic look, I sigh. “What if I don’t make it? What if they get to me? What if they figure out our plan? Yeah, I don’t think I can do this. Isn’t there another way? Another plan? Another—”
“Peyton”—Justin cracks a crooked grin—“the greatest barrier to success is the fear of failure. So right now, the only thing possibly putting us at risk is your lack of faith in yourself. You can do this.”
Quickly, I slide off my heels, hand them over to him, and point. “Don’t lose those. They were my first pair of designer shoes.”
With a soft chuckle, Justin puts the plan in motion. The three of us head up the set of spiral stairs, where Justin immediately shoots the vents closed. As quickly as he takes action, Jimmy tosses his balls, and I leap over the side of the ship, making a mad dash for the entrance to the hallway. While I can definitely say I’m not the most athletic, I can also say that, in terrible situations such as this one, anyone can run like a demon. Running like the wind straight toward Dark Watchers equipped with motive and methods to stop me, I’m pleasantly surprised as bolts and arrows fly past, clearing the path to the truck. However, moments before I reach freedom, I’m sadly blocked by a small, black figure that plops down in front of me.
Glancing behind, I’m disappointed when I notice Justin and Jimmy are currently occupied with a few of their own. My head turns back to the creature, which pulls off the mask to reveal long, orange colored hair and eyes to match. Slightly relieved it’s a female rather than a male, I relax a little. Almost instantly though, my fear is reinstalled as she shoves her foot directly into my ribs and tosses me backward.
Bent over in pain, I whimper. “Justin.”
He instinctively glances in my direction. “A little busy.”
“Help!” I call out as she backflips my way to toss another kick in my other side. “She’s going to kill me!”
Feeling yet another foot land on my chest, he calls out, “Fight back!”
“I’m not a fighter.” I cower from the ground.
“And I can’t hit a girl.” He begins heading my direction, sliding something on the ground.