I brittled, stiffly getting to my feet again. “Everything was fine a week ago,” I said. “It’s probably a UTI that can be cleared up with some antibiotics.” Before he could say anything more, I walked past him up the stairwell. That was the one downside of having family in a place like this. Death camped out on every couch and yard bench. It knocked on doors at night. Though it’s not set in stone, and a lot can be prevented with lifestyle choices, many of my friends have lost their minds or bodies, and often both, in old age.
I rested my hand on the knob of her apartment door. A picture of a happy sushi roll hung at eye level: this is how I roll, it read. Even after a stroke a few years ago, Ms. Kazuya bounced back with finesse. Did I naively believe that would always be the case? That nothing could take her? Loss was already a familiar teacher. I should’ve known better by now. The door swung open before I knocked and I startled backwards, dropping the coffee tin on her welcome mat. She examined me with and without her glasses.
“You come to see me too much, Shion,” she said, exasperated. “Go home to your wife.” And she shut the door before I recovered her tin. What in the halo was that all about? I knocked on her door twice, obnoxiously loud, as she was hard of hearing. I heard the click of the door lock and she left me outside. I stayed curled up by the foot of her door for ten minutes, cradling the coffee tin in my lap. I wanted to tell her about my dreams so badly. And to be honest, that was the primary motivation for this trip. She was like my mom, the only one I could confide in. Everyone else would become worried unnecessarily.
I opened my eyes and Jax was crouched in front of me, chin in his hand and one eyebrow raised.
“Seems like that went well.”
“Stupendously so.”
“She liked the coffee so much she gave it back to you.” A few tears tunneled down the sides of my nose as I placed the coffee tin in Jax’s knee pocket. The glorious thing about scrub pants: the pockets were large enough to fit small animals inside. “Hey, hey. Stop. You are such a snotty crier and there are no tissues around.”
To appease him, I held a sleeve to my nose as a temporary plug. “I wanted to tell her something,” I mumbled. “And… there’s just a lot going on.”
“Things will be okay,” Jax said, helping me to my feet. “Come back in a few days. The doctor is going to check on her tonight. He’ll figure out what’s wrong.” He gestured to the tin in his pocket. “I’ll put this in her room.” I nodded and gave him a goodbye bow that I learned from Ms. Kazuya.
That night I was in the middle of typing up lifespan interviews when Uncle Hugo came in with a bowl of nice-cream. Frozen banana, blended up with nut butter and fruit. One of my favorites.
He placed it on my standing-desk. “You stopped by Silver Heights today, right?” He asked. “How was Ms. Kazuya?”
I took a bite of nice-cream and my tension eased. “She’s sick and didn’t recognize me.”
Uncle Hugo considered my words thoughtfully and leaned against the wall. “Well, Lava, you know that those kinds of things happen at nursing homes. Ms. Kazuya is, what, eighty-seven now?”
“But I really wanted to tell her something.”
“Why not tell Jax?” We swiveled to see Uncle Mason rounding the corner into my room to add his two cents. He plopped down on my bed like a sleepover guest. “He’s your oldest friend. Back from your Heirloom days.” I rubbed my forehead from a zap of brain freeze. Yes, Jax had surprisingly still regarded me as a friend after the Double H move. Actually, he was the only one I retained. We would catch and release amphibians, hide Aza’s bras in the freezer, and swim in the highly polluted river until our toes wrinkled. We also freed a tarantula from the museum once.
“If I tell him something like this he may stop being my friend,” I said plainly. “He will think I made it up. Or that I need to see my counselor more frequently.”
“That is a healthy recommendation for any person,” Uncle Hugo piped in. “With the right counselor of course.”
“I’m personally getting pretty curious about this bizarro, should-be-made-up story you have,” Uncle Mason reasoned, bouncing up and down on my bunny quilt.“You know, your doting uncles will never stop being your buds. No matter what you tell us.”
“Let’s not pressure her,” Uncle Hugo warned with a finger. “She needs time to process.” In agreement, I clapped my hands in front of my computer screen.
“Yes, this assignment is due tomorrow, and processing time is a must. It’s eight and bedtime is at ten.” Uncle Hugo believed that interfering with a person’s sleep schedule was a crime. After looking at the wall clock, Uncle Hugo walked out with my Uncle Mason in tow.
“Blessed dreams, sweet peach,” he said before closing my door. I listened to them creep into the living room to do their evening meditations and prayers. I rocked on my feet, considering Uncle Mason’s suggestion of telling Jax about my dreams. After Ms. Kazuya, he’d be the next choice. He knew me the longest. He was wildly tolerant of my quirks. And he knew Aza. He was even there during the collapse of my nuclear family.
I wanted to spare my uncles for now so they wouldn’t worry about me. No matter the time of day, I always felt Uncle Hugo’s concern. How was I coping? Did I need extra counseling? Was I surrounding myself with good friends? I loved him for his heart. But this created a cycle of me worrying about him worrying about me. Okay. That was a plan then. If Ms. Kazuya was still a little off next time I visited, I’d spill to Jax.
Chapter 8
***
My head was spinning from the post-Rise somersault sensation. It happened every time I came here. Jeez, would it ever go away? Whatever the case, I made it to the Carri-Sect landing site right before takeoff. Garth tilted himself sideways to help me climb the ladder. This turned out to be more difficult than it should have been.
“Where are we going this time?” I asked Quanita in flight.
“A territory called KuKave,” she answered. “When you meet the Earth Earl, you’ll forget all about your Czar Man-Hunk.”
I rolled my eyes and playfully punched her shoulder. “Wow you’ve nailed my type: mean, corrupt kings.”
“With a body complex… ”
When we first arrived at KuKave, it was like someone turned off the bioluminescent light switch. Garth instructed us to retrieve headlamps tethered to his legs. When I turned mine on, a phosphorescent high beam lasered Quanita and a few others into temporary blindness.
“For mud’s sake, Char! We’re not on a frickin’ highway! Put your low-beam on!” Quanita reached over and twisted a knob on my headlamp. The light noticeably dimmed. It only took a few minutes for us to gather our sacks of vegetables and descend into the bowels of, what looked like, a giant cave. It was moist and stone-cool, with crystal teardrops dangling from the dank ceiling. All of the jewel protrusions were lustrous and multicolored. KuKave Wakers worked around us quietly with kyphotic postures, headlamps aglow, and clawed hands while unearthing the glowing rocks.
“Those stones have special properties, mostly for healing,” Bast said. “They’re KuKave’s bartering good.”
A very small man with an oversized headlamp waddled over to us like a clawed penguin. Similar to the Wakers around him, his skin was caked in dust and ash. His eyes were adorned with thick oval goggles that gave him a bug-like appearance. On tiptoe, he peered into my face with wonder.
“The yellow flowers,” he said excitedly. “Everyone! Our new Guardian came flyin’ all this way ter meet us!” He explored the inside of his jacket pocket and pulled out a handful of glowing gems, jagged, raw, and absolutely stunning. He plucked out a red gem and waddled to a nearby furnace. With a mix of tools, he welded the gem to a silver sheet, shaped it, cooled it off and returned to me, a polished cuff held up in offering. “Your trinket from the Earth Earl. May yer courage shine fer eternity,” he chuckled, clasping the cuff to my arm.
I fingered my trinket with gratitude. My courage, huh? Sorry Earl, pretty sure Aza got all of that from the family genepool. Quan
ita feigned a swoon beside me and I swatted her away with a laugh.
The Earth Earl beckoned for us to follow him beyond a dugout with blazing furnaces. From there, we went through a crystalized tunnel until we reached a lagoon of jewels, glistening and clustered as KuKave Wakers waded in the water to wash and polish them. He pointed upwards to a rock ladder. Above it were thousands of hammock beds hanging from the ceiling. “Please place an assorted mix of vegetables on each hammock,” he ordered. “In exchange, we will send yer back with an equal number of bags of polished jewels. Meloni,” he called, the resonance shooting back from the heavens like sound stars. A stooped figure emerged from the pool and adjusted his square goggles. He joined our circle. “Are the jewels prepared for the Skyplume Wakers?”
“Yes suh. I’ll round the team to load the bug right away.” He bowed forward and ducked away quickly, headlamp bobbing through the tunnel. While the Skyplume Wakers busied themselves climbing up and down the rock ladder with vegetable sacks, I took Queen Piria’s package out of my satchel.
“From the Sugar Highness,” I said, handing it to him. He immediately snatched it, and hid it under his cloak, face darkened. Without a word, he yanked my arm closer to him, claws digging into the meat of my forearm. Dumbfounded, I was tugged through another glittery tunnel to a hollow metal box. My first thought: an oversized coffin. With a grating screech, he opened the door to it and shoved me inside. Instinctively, I bared my teeth in survival mode; this woman would die with a mouthful of DNA from her attacker. The Earl stepped around me and began untying a thick rope. As we moved upwards I realized we were in an elevator shaft with a pulley system. And also that I was becoming increasingly nauseated.
“Are yer tryin’ to start a coup?” he blistered, pulling our elevator to the top of the cave. “Fer sapphire’s sake… ”
“Me?” I snapped, “I’m not the one making skin engravings.” I held up a bloodied arm. He shushed me and took a deep breath. The Earl gestured towards the package in his pocket.
“Do yer even know what this is?” When I shook my head, he switched off his headlamp. “Listen lass. Yer in a tangle. Tell me, are yer certain about protectin’ us?” Before I could answer, a raging alarm went off and ravaged the cave with noise.
“Code Neon!” a voice boomed through the crevices. The Earth Earl froze completely and I had to shake him to snap out of it.
“What does this mean?” I yelled. “What’s going on?”
A second high pitched alarm bellowed throughout the cave. Kavies abandoned their posts in military fashion while a size nine earthquake rocked us from above and below. Yes I puked at least three times over the elevator cab. The Earth Earl was too distracted to notice. Instead he carved out a chunk of nearby rock until a small jewel glowed from within. It was extracted gingerly and placed in my hands. Hesitating at his pocket, the Earl finally removed Queen Piria’s package. Inside was… sticky black goop? How anticlimactic. He coated the jewel with it like a juvenile in art class. “Black honey,” he explained, “an’ the Saints Stone. Possibly the antidote for Squit bites.” Antidote? Bites?
“BREACH! CODE NEON— BREACH!” And all pandemonium unraveled. Like a winged stampede, giant black bodies shot through KuKave like murderous bats. They latched onto Kavies and Skyplume Wakers, drawing them close and piercing them with sharp mouthparts. Headlamps bobbed frantically in the chaos. I found myself throwing up again amidst the fervid terror and shrill screaming. What the hell was this? Wakers I had spent the morning with were getting eaten alive. I snapped my eyes shut and began to shiver. This was just a dream, I told myself. And now would be a perfect time to wake up.
“Bast!” The cry was clear as daikon radish noodles. I careened over the elevator cab to see Bast, wrestling against one of the two-headed mosquitoes. Quanita and the others struggled to free themselves from their own battles to save him. I grabbed the gooey jewel from the paralyzed Earl and leaped from the cab, clumsily cartwheeling down a wall of jewels while oversized insects zipped dangerously past me. I landed on the fuzzy back of Bast’s captor. It spun around viciously and even rolled over to crush me like a hound with rabies. Then it struck me, what do I do with this “antidote” anyway? He can’t eat it or apply it topically.
“BREAK THE WIND!” I looked up to see the Earth Earl, hands cupped around his mouth. What on Earth, Earl? Oh— lightbulb!
“BREAK THE SKIN!” Now it made sense. I made my way stealthily to Bast, who was being noisily depleted of his red cells. I felt a pang of guilt for increasing the bloodshed as I sliced his calf open with the honey jewel, expecting a miracle to unfold. Maybe he’d grow into a three-headed mosquito with a ginormous behind and sit on them all. But nothing. Nothing at all. He just continued to writhe, a limp puppet for the mosquito to move around with its legs. Then the beast seized me powerfully and I couldn’t shake free, dropping the jewel in the process. Its eyes were silver, each one creepily stitched together like a Franken-bug; all four of them reflected hundreds of me.
In a strange synchrony, the two-headed bugs suddenly lifted themselves, prey in toe, and flew out of the cave as one black clot. And I was with them. Beside an emaciated, lifeless Bast. So much for being done with nightmares.
As much as I tried to wake up, it was fruitless. And my captor was clearly annoyed by my resistance midair. It even pierced my neck to start drinking. But with a shriek, it withdrew and didn’t try again. So apparently vegan blood didn’t taste good. What a relief. I scanned my raw arms and legs. God was I a bloody mess. In the adrenaline rush, I hadn’t noticed before, but the pain felt very… real.
We eventually flew over a familiar fjord. I’d recognize those cascades anywhere. It was Seawall. The Czar’s castle was straight ahead. Were they taking us to him? The mosquitoes nosedived to the smoky water surface. I felt like I could hear faint crying from below. Like ugly helicopters, the mosquitoes suddenly rose vertically as a group. At a roller-coaster uncomfortable altitude, they all released their Wakers. We fell like corpse parachuters. All but me, anyway, who appeared to be the only conscious one. What a double edged sword.
I hit the water surface and was immediately filled with an opioid-like calm. In a womb of warm water, I opened my eyes in bizarre serenity. A shriveled Waker was sinking before me, a shadow with blood trailing upwards from his puncture wounds. For some reason, I found this slow, gentle sight absolutely enchanting. Then a dark cloud emerged from beneath us and wrapped itself around the Waker I was watching. Oh, I thought charmingly, it’s giving him a hug. When the cloud darted away, the Waker was gone. Finally, I chopped my bewitchment with an ax of lucidity. Definitely not a hug! Get out of here!
I snapped to when another cloud was billowing in my direction. With all my strength I swam to the surface, pumping with adrenaline and self preservation. I beached myself like a wounded animal, breathing heavily and silently praising myself. I did it. I’m alive. I didn’t get eaten and I didn’t die… oh, get a grip. For the last time, no one dies in dreams. Then pain reminded me that I was bleeding from a lot of places. I stood on wobbly legs and fell over with a splash. Not good. Can’t walk. Can I speak?
“Kraaaaaaaaahhhh!” Wow what a terrible sound. Can speak, but not words. My mind was ebbing, hopefully, an invitation to wake up from this nightmare. As I closed my eyes, I could have sworn the water took on a golden glow.
I came to in a canopy bed. The walls were decorated with stained glass and the air was fragrant with rose incense. My body ached as I propped myself up with my elbows. A full length mirror sat in front of me. It reflected a scarred up woman with wild red hair, skin mapped with yellow flowers, and wearing a tattered leafy dress. That was definitely me. The chamber doors opened and two men approached. I recognized both.
“Guardian Char,” Ceph greeted, tentacles trailing goo along the tile. “How are you feeling?” No way, it was the octopus Shaman from the marketplace. I must still be in Seawall.
“Like I now understand PTSD.” I held my throbbing head. “Am I in your healing
temple?” He nodded. Ceph’s flowing robes draped over my arm as he inspected my pulse.
“I didn’t think I could heal you,” he admitted gravely. “No one has ever survived… that.” That. The black bodies blasted through my thought-stream. I began to sweat. Nez crossed his arms and stood in front of me. I almost didn’t recognize him with the fancy tunic on. It looked just like the one I borrowed.
He dipped a finger into the incense water. Tell us exactly what happened.
“Shouldn’t you both be explaining it to me?” I said.
You’re the first to survive the attack. When my defiant expression outlasted his, Nez continued impatiently. The Squits come in scourges to drain the blood of Wakers. After, they drop them into the sea. To feed their spawn developing on the seafloor.
“We live in fear,” Ceph breathed, sitting beside me and pressing his suctions together. “This was never resolved in our first Guardian’s time.”
And now we’re relying on you, Nez said. Only Guardians have the power to stop their master.
Wakers: Sayonara Sleep Page 5