Iron Inheritance

by G. R. Fillinger

  “I did like riding the horses though…and the stars,” she said, like she wanted to relive the moment. “Grandpa would sit us down and make us be still. I never wanted to be still—still don’t. But then we saw a shooting star. Do you remember that?”

  I nodded. “Your shriek scared a coyote sniffing around our tent. It yelped like you’d kicked it, and Grandpa fell back in his chair.” I smiled.

  “And his hat rolled into the fire.” Ria giggled, then stopped, her shoulders sinking into the mattress. “I don’t think he ever forgave me for that—burning his hat.”

  I sighed and squeezed her hand. “Of course he did.”

  “Look at me.” She wiped her eyes. “It’s definitely still your turn to cry right now. I’m supposed to be the strong one. Here’s my shoulder.” She nudged her shoulder into my chin. “Just know that it’s going to be my turn very soon.”

  I smiled and blinked away stray tears. I couldn’t think about this right now, couldn’t break down again. I needed to get up and do something.

  I reached around the side of my bed and fished the go-bag out from under it. “I’m going to take a shower and then see how Josh is doing.”

  “Whoa, whoa.” Ria sat up. “You’ll definitely need some back up for that.” She paused, and then added, “The interrogation, not the shower, you dirty girl.”

  I reached back around and smacked her with my pillow.

  She was unfazed, already bounding across the room and rifling through her bag. “I’ll play the flirty cop.”

  “Like that worked so well last time.” I raised my eyebrows.

  “Last time doesn’t count. How was I supposed to know he was a Chippendale?”

  “The bow tie, the muscles, the fact that we lived in Vegas?”

  “And he still wouldn’t tell me what he put in that cheese dip.”

  She followed me down the empty hallway and into the outdated bathroom. It was one long rectangle sectioned off with walls of white and purple tile between a row of toilets and a row of showers. On the opposite side, purple sinks curved like seashells sat on porcelain pedestals in front of the mirrors.

  “Retro,” Ria snickered.

  I crossed the tile floor and turned on the water in the closest shower.

  “Yes! An eyelash curler.” Ria held up her trophy she’d found lying on one of the sinks. She whipped her head around so her hair grew two sizes in volume before she looked into the mirror and started primping.

  “That always hurts when I do it.” I massaged my neck

  “No pain, no seduce-ang.” She snapped her fingers back and forth sassily.

  I managed the biggest eye roll of my life before stepping into the shower.

  ***

  The college had two L-shaped, two-story buildings that wrapped around the perimeter of almost the entire block, easily a football field long. The only two entrances were at the corners where the buildings met, and they were very narrow. Not exactly inviting, but then again, if I’d built a secret base for people who could instantly make swords of blue light and run like The Flash, I wouldn’t want too many visitors either.

  The dorms were on the north side of the quad nearest to the recycling yard that took up the rest of the block. The screech of metal being crushed by a giant trash compactor filled the space in between birds chirping from the green Magnolia trees in the quad. The classrooms and faculty offices seemed to be on the other side across from the dorms, and the infirmary was tucked away in the corner with tall, leaded glass windows glinting in the morning sunlight.

  We peeked in through one of its creaky double doors. Rows of steel-framed beds with crisp, white sheets lined the wall. Glass IVs hung to the side of each. In almost every respect, it looked like a World War II era hospital. At the end of the long but narrow room, right next to an office with a warm light glowing through the obscured window, the gurney that had held Josh sat empty. None of the other beds held him either.

  I backed away, and the door snapped shut. “He’s not there.” Dark thoughts tensed all of my muscles at once. What if they hadn’t been able to save him? Wouldn’t they have come and told me? Why did he have to be so stubborn and stupid?

  “Come on.” Ria tucked her arm in mine. “He’s probably fine. He might even be in the cafeteria. Let’s just get some breakfast. I think I smelled bacon through one of the billion unmarked doors in the quad. Honestly, someone should really invest in a label maker for this place.”

  My stomach grumbled its assent even as I peeked back into the infirmary to make sure I hadn’t missed him, what-ifs still swirling in my mind.

  After several rounds of trial and error, Ria’s hound-nose found the right door. “This is it,” she said and pushed forward into a wave of sizzling bacon, ripe strawberries, sugar, and cinnamon.

  I breathed in, almost tasting everything already. A rush of sound from multiple conversations and several TVs met us next. The cafeteria looked like I imagined NYU’s would: four modern, stainless steel buffet stations with simple, cursive signs announcing the food groups, a smattering of round tables and chairs occupying the middle of the room, everyone pushed into everyone else’s discussions.

  “Winner dinner, lickin’ chicken,” said Ria with a sideways glance my way.

  I exhaled and smiled. “My sentiments exactly.”

  We each grabbed a plate and roamed back and forth from one buffet to the next. A pile of bacon here, a rainbow of fresh-cut fruit there. Waffle. Pancake. Danish. I couldn’t believe how hungry I was.

  I hovered over the pastry section with a pair of tongs in search of a chocolate twist when a man’s hand glided into view and snatched the last one before I could get there.

  “I’m glad they have more than manna.” Josh’s voice rang beside me, the right corner of his mouth rising cheekily.

  My eyes widened, and my cheeks flushed. “Josh! You’re here.”

  “Eve. So are you.” He grinned.

  I huffed and rolled my eyes, a weight lifted off my shoulders, the tongs still clutched awkwardly in my hand. “I’m glad you’re ok. You almost gave me a heart attack last night.”

  “And yet, I was the one who fainted.” He tweaked his head to the side, still smirking cutely.

  I refocused my eyes and tried to look at him more closely. He didn’t look as tired, but that was about the only change. Still strong, tan, chiseled. “What did they give you to fix your…?”

  “Essence?” He shrugged. “Nurse Wright’s a good healer. Nothin’ to it.” He paused, staring at the tongs in my hand. “What are you looking for?”

  I avoided looking at his plate. “Something with chocolate.”

  “Here.” He grinned and put the donut on my plate. “I only took it once I saw you wanted it anyway.”

  I narrowed my eyes and set the tongs down, trying my best to hide my grin. “So that’s the way you’re going to play it.” I nodded and looked back at the other carts. “Have you seen Ria? We can all get a table together, unless you already—”

  “I don’t.” His stormy blue eyes smiled down at me. “But it seems like Ria may already have her pick of people to sit with.” He pointed across the room to a crowd of people lining up near one of the buffets.

  Ria was doing an impersonation using bacon for lips. She’d used this shtick in the school cafeteria back home. People always supplied their own interpretations of who she was imitating. With this crowd, it seemed Morales was the overwhelming favorite. All their faces copied Ria’s pretentious, snooty mask. Even with the bacon covering half her face, she could have won an Oscar.

  I turned back toward the mass of chairs and tables and found that anyone who wasn’t looking at Ria was looking at me. It was like the first day of school I’d experienced just a year ago—all of Ria’s friends staring at me, faces contorted to make me anything but comfortable. Only this time I had an idea why they might actually be interested.

  I was new.

  I came in the middle of the night.

  And oh yeah, a Babylonian ki
lled my grandpa.

  For as small a campus as it was, I was surprised no one woke me up in the middle of the night to start the staring early.

  “How many of them already know who I am, you think?”

  “Eh, probably one or two upstanding citizens left.” Josh looked around.

  No less than ten seconds later, as we were still trying to navigate our way to an empty table, two double doors to my right swung forward. An opera of soulful lyrics followed. Amazing Grace belted out of a rotund guy with short black hair, denim shorts, and an orange Hawaiian shirt. He was easily 6’4” and round enough to be a featherweight sumo wrestler.

  He stepped forward, and the whole room was filled with “‘Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound…’” Every syllable stretched to its fullest, and everyone else stretched their hands over their ears. A thin girl in purple near the corner rocked from side to side in a hypnotic dance, her hands waving above her head like a gypsy collecting gnats.

  Mr. Opera veered toward her, slipping between empty chairs and nearly knocking over a few tables on the way. When he arrived at his destination—his hand on a chair he’d claimed as his own—he finished his rendition with his arms stretched wide, mouth ratcheted open, tongue undulating with “‘The hour I first believed!’”

  Until he ran out of breath, smiled, and sat down. Several napkins and insults catapulted in his general direction as the noise returned to a normal level of clanking forks, spoons, and whispers pointed toward me.

  “Come on.” Josh waved me forward. “I think I just found us a table.”

  My jaw dropped, but I followed anyway. Josh sure wasn’t afraid of social suicide.

  Maybe that was one of the things I saw in him—the same as it was in Ria for still being friends with me even with all the people she had at school before I’d got there.

  “Hi,” said the perky gypsy girl when Josh stopped at the edge of the table. She wore a purple, plaid shirt with her sleeves rolled up and paint brushes sticking out of her hair.

  “Morning.” Josh smiled. “I’m Josh. This is Eve.”

  “Evey.” Ria came up to my side. “You have to come over here. Those guys over there can—”

  “And Ria.” Josh added, extending his hand to Ria.

  Ria’s eyes bulged, and she elbowed me in the side as she saw Josh—alive, tall, and grinning at her.

  “We’re new and wondered if we could join you,” he finished.

  Ria’s hand dropped from my side as she turned and fixed her eyes on the gypsy girl’s toast, her mouth agape. “Is that peanut butter and…Pop Rocks?”

  “Want some?” Ms. Pop Rocks tore off a piece and handed it to Ria before she could stretch out her hand. Little purple bits of the fizzy candy sparkled on the surface of the toast.

  Ria took it, popped it into her mouth, and closed her eyes so her mouth could explode in peace. “Seriously, you’re officially my new best friend,” she said after she swallowed.

  “Oh good. I’ve been meaning to get rid of you for a while.” I nudged Ria’s shoulder. “Is it ok if we…?” I extended my hand to the seat, looking from the girl to the neon orange shirt of the guy, his face dumbstruck that we were even talking to them.

  “Is the sky a conglomeration of essence too pretty to paint?” Ms. Pop Rocks said.

  “I think that’d be a yes.” Josh pulled out my chair.

  I sat down with a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. Ria took another bite of toast and kept chewing with her eyes closed.

  “I’m Miranda,” Pop Rock girl said, the sunlight behind her head creating a halo. “Did you know fizzy candy has metaphysical properties that strengthen the tongue’s connection with the spirit?”

  “Really?” I nodded politely.

  “I’m still trying to prove it.” She smiled and watched Ria intensely as she chewed.

  “Hola. Yo soy Freddy.” The cuddly sumo wrestler in orange extended his hand.

  “I knew I should have paid attention in Spanish,” Ria pouted.

  “I say the same thing.” Freddy grinned and turned to Miranda. “Pay up, Chiquita.”

  She dropped a penny into his palm.

  “What’s that all about?” said Ria, bewildered.

  “Running bet for embarrassing moments. That was my latest.” Freddy jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

  “For a penny?” Ria said.

  Freddy shrugged. “If you’re going to be the nerds no one likes, you might as well be the most awesome nerds.”

  “A penny!”

  “Well, I like your singing.” Josh smiled.

  I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, unable to tell if he was kidding. Maybe he was a little tone deaf? Broad shoulders, chiseled jaw, stormy blue eyes. Yeah, definitely attractive enough to pull that off.

  Freddy inclined his head politely to Josh. “Glad you’re feeling better. Once I heard, I went racing down there, but Nurse Wright had already healed you up.” He waved his hands over the table like he was doing some kind of odd sign language.

  I blinked several times before what he said clicked—this was another power like Josh and Nate’s speed. “You can actually heal people? Like, no medicine, just—” I stuck out my hands over a deflated jelly donut. “Heal?”

  “Yep,” Freddy said proudly, his big orange chest sticking out beyond his double chin. His smile overpowered all his other features, though. It was so bright and natural that I doubted his face could move any other way.

  “I’m so ready for classes here,” Ria said dreamily. “Did you know those guys over there can bench press a car?” She pointed at some scrawny guys arm wrestling.

  “Those are Warriors,” said Josh.

  “Wait, what?” I looked behind me, the thought that all of these people had different powers finally hitting me. How many different powers were there? “Ok, someone please give me a breakdown on what it means to be a Graced, all these powers.” I set down my fork. “And what happens? You just graduate high school and suddenly you can heal people?”

  “Let me give you the strong and short of it,” said Freddy, a cheesy grin accenting his dancing eyebrows.

  Josh snickered into his food.

  When no one else laughed, Freddy continued. “You have the bit of angel essence your whole life, but talents—that’s what we call them—wait until both your body and mind are mature enough. Usually around seventeen or eighteen, sometimes younger for the likes of Miranda here.”

  Miranda shrugged. “I got mine when I was nine. Accidentally set one of my mom’s closets on fire. She was never the same after that.”

  Ria stopped sprinkling Pop Rocks on a donut.

  Freddy leaned forward, grinning. “I guess you could say those clothes were hot.”

  Josh guffawed.

  I shook my head and sighed. Ria had gone through a lame joke phase like that when we were seven.

  I was still recovering.

  “So, there are seven talents that come from angelic essence.” Freddy continued. “Essence is, basically, your life force, your spirit. In order to make us Graced, angels splice a part of their own spirit with ours. It interacts in different ways with our personality, turns a certain color, and we then get one of seven different talents according to the qualities God gave angels.” Freddy paused to make sure I was following.

  My head felt like it was spinning, but I nodded anyway.

  “The name of each talent is based on what it allows you to do.”

  “Like Warriors being super strong.” Ria pounded her fist on the table so hard all the cutlery jumped.

  I raised an eyebrow as she massaged her hand.

  “Or Healer’s healing,” Freddy said and waved his hands in intricate patterns over Ria’s hand and finished with a snap.

  Ria flexed her fingers in and out like they were brand new.

  “Or Miracles producing fireballs whenever they concentrate too hard.” Miranda snatched at a speck of dust floating in the air.

  I laughed in disbelief, my mouth hanging open. “
Wait, seriously?”

  “Show us!” Ria clapped her hands together.

  Freddy’s face strained. “The Miracle talent is the most difficult to control. Unless she practices something over and over, it’s hard to do on the spot.”

  “The last time I tried something new indoors, the roof caught on fire and collapsed.” Miranda stared up at the ceiling with wide, unfocused eyes.

  I looked up at the ceiling with her. “Peachy.”

  Ria turned to Josh. “What about you? What’s yours called?”

  He wiped some crumbs off his mouth with his forearm. “I’m a Messenger. I know, not quite as good as The Flash, but I’m working on it.” He smirked. “It comes from angels having to go up and down Jacob’s ladder to Heaven. It’s pretty far, so they have to move quick.”

  My mind clicked on fast forward. What kind of nerd would I be if I didn’t admit that I’d thought about superpowers ad nauseam?

  The memory of me jumping from the roof in the rain when I pretended to be Storm from X-men was kind of hard to forget.

  And yet, part of me still resisted. If I had the chance for all this to be a dream so I could wake up in a normal life where Grandpa was still alive, I’d take it in a heartbeat.

  “So, welcome to Patron’s Got Talent.” Freddy grinned infectiously. “And that’s not even all of them. What do you think, Eve?”

  “I don’t really think I have any talents. I can’t—”

  “Come on now. Evey has some crazy talents.” Ria cut in on my behalf and chopped at the table in a way that would have broken her hand had it been for real. “She knows enough karate to kick the butts of everybody in here.”

  I shook my head and flicked my fork around in my food without taking a bite.

  “I have proof of that,” Josh smirked and massaged just behind his ear where I’d hit the pressure point.

  “I’ll have to keep my eye on you in the arena, then,” said an unfamiliar voice behind me.

  I turned around and found a tall, lean man with blond hair and gray eyes staring at me intently. Nate stood next to him, shifting back and forth from heel to toe.

  “My name is Duke. Dean Morales sent me to find you this morning.”