Forever Man

by Brian Matthews

  “Gene, please,” said Izzy. To Owens, she asked, “Is there anything we can do about it?”

  Owens shook his head. “I don’t think so, but it won’t work on me. So if I see any of you freeze up, I’ll try to break his concentration.”

  “This is too bizarre for words,” said Izzy. “If there’s nothing else?”

  “I think we’ve got it covered,” said Owens.

  Izzy tightened her grip on the Maglite.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  They had followed Webber and Jack’s trail for about two hundred feet when Owens shouted, “Get down!”

  Izzy spun around. In the Maglite’s beam, she glimpsed Owens toss Katie to one side and drop to the ground. Gene backed away from the old man, tripped, and fell hard. Above his prone body, a shape burst from the darkness, charging the spot where Katie had been. Owens shifted and drove his right fist up hard and fast.

  A piercing howl—the creature, the one that had attacked them earlier! How had it gotten so close without her hearing it?

  “No one move,” Izzy called out as she scrambled to find the creature, the barrel of her gun following the Maglite’s narrow beam as it searched the darkness.

  Owens also searched for the thing, his flashlight slicing through the night.

  “Where is it?” she yelled. “I can’t—”

  She heard movement behind her. Twisting, she brought her gun up and fired. The creature cried out in pain. In the muzzle’s flash, she glimpsed its broad head just before it slammed into her shoulder, sending her flying backward into the snow. She managed to hold onto the gun, but her flashlight went spinning into the night and landed in a snowdrift, its light smothered as completely as if someone had blown out a candle.

  Owens was at her side in an instant, his flashlight trained on the creature.

  Izzy fired again, hitting it near the top of its right rear flank. The creature crumpled to the ground. Struggled to its feet. Lurched after Katie.

  Izzy tried to rise but cried out when pain tore through her ankle.

  “Damn it,” she swore. “I can’t—hurry, go! Don’t let it get her.”

  Owens didn’t pause to answer. He bolted after Katie, his legs pumping as he dodged trees with agility that belied his age. Izzy heard him calling after Katie, telling her to keep moving.

  Soon he disappeared behind a copse of trees, and his flashlight winked out of sight.

  * * *

  Katie bolted through the woods, her heart hammering against her chest wall.

  The creature was behind her. She could hear its heavy footfalls, the shattering branches as it broke through small trees, the thud of its body slamming into larger ones. It was closing in; she could almost feel its hot breath on her neck. But she couldn’t run any faster. The trees were too close. They leapt at her from the darkness.

  More distant still, she could hear Mr. Owens calling to her. He wanted to save her, but he sounded too far away. He would never make it in time.

  She was going to die.

  A large tree materialized before her, blocking her way. She barely avoided a collision, cut right, hoping a change in direction might create more distance between her and the creature.

  No, she thought angrily. She wasn’t going to die out here in the woods. She wasn’t going to give up. Allow herself be killed. She wasn’t like her father.

  She dodged right again, leapt over a fallen pine. Now she was heading back the way she’d come. Toward Mr. Owens. She heard him calling to her.

  “Here!” she shouted. “I’m right here!”

  Another tree punched up from the darkness. She dodged left, but a thick, low-hanging branch clipped the side of her head. Platinum streaks of pain flashed behind her eyes, and she fell to the ground.

  Through the black night, the creature charged relentlessly toward her. She flipped onto her back and began scrambling backward.

  “No,” she cried. “Oh God, no.”

  The creature was almost upon her now. She could make out its shape rushing at her, blotting out what little of the forest she could see. Its snarls scraped at her nerves.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure who she was apologizing to. Maybe it was to her parents for failing to be better than them; or maybe to herself, for simply failing.

  She heard footsteps behind her. A bright light flashed into the creature’s eyes. It howled in pain and vanished, escaping into the relative safety of the darkness.

  Bart Owens stepped between her and the monster. He searched for the creature with his Maglite.

  “I don’t see it,” he said.

  “We should be able to hear it,” Katie said. “It made enough noise chasing me.”

  Bart held a hand out to help her up. “Come on, let’s get back to Izzy and Gene. Maybe it went back for them.”

  Grateful to be alive, she reached for his hand.

  Something exploded from the darkness and slammed into Mr. Owens. The flashlight flew from his hand, hurtling through the air to smash against a tree. The glass shattered, the bulb broke.

  They were plunged back into darkness.

  Chapter 33

  In the faint glow of the moon, Katie saw two indistinct shapes flailing about on a carpet of snow. Then she heard the odd howl of the creature as it struggled with Mr. Owens.

  She scrambled to her feet. Her hand closed on something waxy and cylindrical and picked it up. Standing in the darkness with the sounds of fighting going on nearby, desperate to do something to help the old man, she ran her hands over what she’d found.

  The flare Izzy had given her. It must have fallen out of her pocket.

  “Katie!” he yelled from the ground. “Get out of here!”

  She yanked the flare’s cap off. Gripping it tightly in her hand, she ran it across the flare’s striking surface.

  Nothing.

  The creature started whimpering like a wounded animal.

  She heard a muffled groan, and Mr. Owens called out, “What are you doing? Run!”

  No, she thought. Not this time.

  She rubbed the cap hard across the top of the flare and was rewarded with a small shower of sparks, but it didn’t ignite.

  “Come on,” she muttered.

  She grated the cap across the surface. More sparks—that quickly died out.

  “Katie!” Mr. Owens pleaded, then fell silent as the sounds of fighting intensified.

  Again she struck the cap against the surface, and again. White sparks shot into the night.

  “Light,” she said, scraping the cap as hard as she could across the top of the flare.

  Nothing.

  “Light, damn you!” she yelled and tried again.

  Sparks flashed and then faded.

  With tears streaming down her cheeks, she screamed, “Light, you useless piece of SHIT!” and slammed her hand down onto the top of the flare. Sparks flew, sputtered, then burst into bright red light as the flare ignited.

  Katie spun around. The flare bathed the area in a crimson glow.

  Mr. Owens was on the ground with the creature struggling atop him. He had one arm braced across the thing’s throat, keeping its cruel teeth away from his face. The other hand gripped the coarse fur at the back of its neck. His legs were wrapped around its body.

  The creature’s face was a snarling mask of pain and saliva. Its razor-sharp claws had dug deep grooves into the ground on either side of the old man—he was holding the creature so close it couldn’t get a clean swipe at him.

  The scene pierced Kate’s mind. In the space between one heartbeat and the next, she saw her mother lying on the ground, not the old man, with that hideous monster raking her flesh away in bloody strips, robbing Katie of her mother, leaving her alone in the world, and destroying the last hope she’d held of redeeming the woman who had, deep down, truly loved her.

  And in that moment, Katie Bethel changed. She could almost imagine a switch flipping inside her.

  Raising the flare high, she shouted, “Burn,
you ugly son of a bitch!”

  She charged the creature. It swiveled its head toward her, extending its neck to snap at her.

  But Katie was faster. With a cry of rage, she plunged the lit end of the flare deep into one of the creature’s eyes. The orb burst in a spray of wet, warm fluid.

  The creature shrieked and jerked its head back. Caught up in the flux of her emotions, Katie kept hold of the flare; it slipped free of the thing’s eye socket, the light now extinguished by thick gore.

  From the sounds it made, the creature was in unbearable agony. Owens had been escalating the pain it felt by the second. Now its eye was destroyed, the socket a burned-out crater. It all proved too much.

  With a guttural snarl and a clumsy bite at the old man’s face, the creature broke free and retreated into the darkness.

  After dropping the flare, Katie fell to her knee next to Owens. She reached out, found his arm, followed it down until she held his hand. His flesh felt cool and dry despite his efforts against the creature.

  “Are you okay?” Her voice was loud in the sudden silence. “Mr. Owens, please. Say something.”

  His hand moved, his fingers closed over hers. “Didn’t anyone,” he said gruffly, “every teach you to listen to your elders?”

  She grinned in relief, though in the near dark she doubted he could see it. “How long has it been since you’ve dealt with a teenager? We don’t listen to anyone.”

  “Well, you’re going to listen now. Help me up. We’ve got to get out of here before that thing returns.”

  “You’re not hurt?”

  “Not anything a little time won’t fix. Come on, let’s get moving.”

  She helped him to his feet. “Where to?”

  “Anywhere but here,” he said and led her into the dark woods.

  They had gone what seemed like several hundred feet, moving as silently as possible and listening for sounds of pursuit, when Owens stopped. “This is far enough.”

  Katie had no idea where they were. The forest looked much the same in the day. At night, it was worse: visibility was down to a few feet, and any landmarks disappeared as soon as they moved. Unless Mr. Owens could see in the dark, they were seriously screwed.

  “We need to find Nat’s mom and Mr. Vincent,” she said. “That thing’s still out there.”

  Mr. Owens’ voice floated out of the darkness. “They should be all right for the moment. You hurt the creature badly. Unless Darryl’s control over it is stronger than I suspect, it’s probably off nursing its wounds.”

  “‘Suspect,’” Katie said, angry at the old man’s words. “‘Suspect.’ That’s what you’re hanging our friends’ lives on?”

  Owens didn’t say anything for a moment. She could feel him staring at her. Then, in a voice so low she could barely hear him: “You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

  She struggled for words. Her nerves were wound so tight, they hummed. “I just stuck a flare in the eye of something that shouldn’t exist!”

  “Katie—”

  “In the last three days,” she continued, the words spilling from her along with a torrent of emotions, “I’ve been shot at, chased by a monster, and confronted by people with powers you only see in movies. I watched a man I respect try to kill you, my boyfriend got the shit beat out of him, and my best friend is still missing.” She shook her head. “And you want to know ‘what’s wrong’?”

  “I understand it’s been—”

  “No, you don’t understand. I lost my father, and now my mother’s dead.” Her eyes felt hot with tears. “I don’t have anyone left in my life. I’m alone.”

  She felt Owens grip her shoulders, gently but firmly. It was something she would expect a father to do, but she’d rarely experienced that. Her father had decided death was a better alternative than staying with his daughter.

  “No, you’re not,” he said. “You never were, and you never will be. Remember what we talked about?”

  Last night, when she had sat alone with him in the police station, believing he had given up on his life, they had discussed her father. She remembered the conversation. Owens had surprised her. He’d spoken passionately about the sanctity of life, how each person was precious beyond measure, and that despite what her dad had done, he was still loved. And she was, too.

  And then, as they’d sat there talking, he had healed. Or, she thought, he’d been healed. But that would mean….

  “Something happened to you, didn’t it?”

  His dark shape grew still. “What do you mean?”

  Katie pulled her jacket more tightly around her. “You can inflict pain just by touching someone. You recover from injuries that would kill normal people. And then there’s your age. I’m not stupid. You can’t have been born this way. You were changed somehow, made into who you are.”

  “You don’t—”

  “Which means other people can be changed. Am I right?”

  Owens was quiet for a moment. “So that’s it,” he said, releasing her. “You would give up all that you hold dear, just to be like me.”

  “You really think I can go back to my old life? Forget everything I’ve seen? Walk around school pretending there are no monsters or magical old men? Live in a house filled with painful memories and little else?” Bitterness flowed through her veins like molten copper. “I have nothing left that’s dear to me. I have nothing left to hope for.”

  “This existence isn’t the answer.”

  “Why not? Because I’m a kid?”

  “No,” he said, not unkindly. “Because what you’re asking is impossible.”

  “I don’t believe you. Whatever machine or drug made you can do the same for me.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “You’re lying!”

  “Katie, listen to me—”

  “Don’t do this. Don’t turn me away, too.” She lifted her eyes to where she thought his would be. “Don’t leave me without hope.”

  Owens fell silent. After several seconds, he spoke. “There’s something you need to understand. I was there, Katie. When the plague killed half of Europe, and when men like da Vinci and Galileo emerged from the ashes to change the world. Later, I witnessed the crushing poverty that ignited the French Revolution. What happened to me happened a long time ago. There was no drug. No machine. I’m sorry.”

  Katie wanted to shout, to accuse him again of lying; that his claim of being centuries old was another diversion. But she didn’t—he sounded too sure of himself.

  “Then how did you…?”

  “Get this way? Some secrets are held closer to the heart than others. That’s one of them.”

  Katie pressed her lips together. One door had closed on her. She tried another.

  “Take me with you, then,” she said. “Let me be your Webber. Let me help you.”

  “No,” Owens said flatly. “I told you, I won’t risk anyone’s life. You saw what happened back at the police station. How long do you think you could survive that?”

  “I have. Twice.”

  “It’s too dangerous. I won’t have it.”

  “These people came into my town, into my life, and took away the only thing I had left. If we don’t stop them, they’ll do it again and again. And then one day, some other kid will end up like me. I don’t want to see that happen.”

  “This isn’t your fight.”

  “Webber made it my fight when he murdered my mother. Face it—I’m part of your world now. Take me with you.”

  “So it’s about revenge. You want to strike back at the people who hurt you.”

  “Partly,” she said, though the admission made her feel cheapened somehow. Payback wasn’t going to return her mother. And it was a sentiment she thought her father might have embraced. “Mostly it’s about doing the right thing, about making a difference. One day, I want to be able to look back on my life and feel proud about what I’d done. Is that so wrong?”

  “No, it isn’t,” he said. “Look, you don’t understand. A man once
died horribly because of me—because of his association with me. After that, I vowed I’d never put someone in such a dangerous position again. What you’re asking for is a death sentence.”

  “You don’t know that,” she returned. “And besides, it’s still my choice. If I want to do some good in the world, then I will. With or without you.”

  Owens didn’t respond. He stood in the darkness, and Katie could almost hear him thinking. Finally, he spoke.

  “Selflessness is one of man’s greatest virtues. Or in this case, woman’s. Let’s hope you live long enough to make a difference.”

  Katie waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she said, “Wait, does that mean—?”

  “No promises. We still have to live through this” His dark from shifted. “I don’t see any flares. We need to find the others.”

  “Lead the way,” she said with a grin, and followed him into the darkness.

  Chapter 34

  “Izzy,” whispered Gene. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

  Out of the black void he heard a low groan, and he began crawling in that direction. Snow leeched the warmth from his hands, making them ache.

  “Izzy!”

  “Here,” she said, her voice weak.

  “Where, damn it?”

  “Use a flare.”

  Gene grabbed the one in his pocket and soon had it glowing. It threw off enough light that he could see Izzy getting to her feet. He hurried over to her. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing’s broken, but I twisted my ankle. And I’m sore as hell. That thing hits like it’s made out of concrete.”

  “Tell me about it. Can you walk?”

  “I think so. Owens and Katie—?”

  “That way,” Gene said, pointing with the flare.

  “My flashlight?”

  He shook his head.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’ve got two more flares. Let’s go.”

  From deep in the woods, a wretched howl ripped through the night.

  “Sounds like Owens is doing his thing,” he said.