by Rach Elle
Junior watched out of the corner of his eye as the Protector limped through the grass. He gathered as much strength as he could and leaped through the air, knocking the pistol out of his hand and tackling him to the ground.
Awilda gasped and began writhing against Chase’s grip. He grunted in frustration and jammed the handle of his gun into the base of her skull, rocking her brain. She tried to run away, but her vision blurred and spun. She grabbed the back of her head before falling to the grass.
Junior jumped off the Protector and ran across the clearing toward Awilda. He reached his hand out for her just as Chase pulled his trigger and embedded a bullet into his stomach; dropping Junior to the ground, rendering him weak and helpless.
Junior winced in pain as he rolled over onto his stomach. The Protectors ran to each other; the one with the crew cut checking up on the other one. Junior pushed himself up onto his knees and crawled a few steps, reaching his arm out for Awilda. Just as the Protectors noticed his efforts he latched onto her slender ankle and pulled her into him; her small body seeking his for shelter.
Awilda’s eyes flittered open. Her head was still dizzy as she looked up to see Junior hovering over her; his body in a pouncing position and his lips quivering as he growled dangerously with bared fangs and outstretched wings. She looked ahead to see the Protectors watching him from the other end of a gun. Junior sank lower, providing more protection for her. The man she feared would end her life only moments ago was now her savior. He was staring down the barrel of a gun for her. She shouldn’t care for him the way she did; but she couldn’t help herself. She could feel her heart breaking for him; his courage and willingness to care for her over him made her overflow with emotion. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed they would make it through this alive. She could feel tears welling in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks as she shivered from fear. Her life since leaving the asylum flashed before her eyes and she pictured everyone else that stood in that field with her.
Awilda’s eyes shot open as she thought of Limmy. Back and forth; starts with a ‘T’. She began wracking her brain again desperately searching for an answer. She knew she didn’t have much time. What started with a ‘T’ and meant back and forth; turn?
“When I say so,” Junior whispered, “run like hell.”
“No, I can’t.” Awilda cried softly; twist?
“Yes, you can.” His voice had strength laced with an impending sadness. He glanced downward to see the fragile woman cowering beneath him. “I want you to run and don’t stop for anything or anyone; no matter what you hear.”
“Oh god, no,” Awilda shuddered. She looked at the man above her. His t-shirt had been ripped to shreds, barely hanging on by a thread. His chest was almost entirely exposed and the bullet wound in his abdomen seeped blood onto her white knit sweater; which had now been soiled by dirt and grass stains. She gently wrapped her arm around Junior’s waist and raised her head, pressing it against his chest; hearing his pounding heart and feeling his heavy breathing. She tried to stop crying; she needed to be stronger than this.
Junior could feel Awilda’s soft skin against his as she leaned into him. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and as he stared down the barrel of a gun he knew this could possibly be his last chance. He swallowed the lump in his throat and whispered, “I love you,” too softly for her to hear. But that was how he wanted it; he needed to tell her how he felt without concern over what her response would be. Because after what he’d done to her there wasn’t any way she’d reciprocate; and that would kill him more than a bullet between the eyes.
Junior prepared himself to tear away from Awilda’s embrace and provide enough distraction for her to get away when a sudden, piercing sound stung his ears. It was high pitched and indistinguishable as to where – or who – it was coming from. It grew louder and sharper with each passing second. The Protectors began buckling over in pain; dropping their weapons as they covered their ears with their hands.
Junior lifted one arm and cradled Awilda’s back, pressing his hand against the side of her head, trying to stop her pain. The piercing tone continued and Junior lowered his head, nuzzling his face into the nape of her neck and pressing his other hand against his exposed ear.
“What is that?!” Awilda called over the crippling tone.
“I don’t know!” Junior called back, wrapping his wings around the two of them to try and provide a stronger barrier.
Awilda’s brain felt like it was going to explode as the pain was unbearable. She heard the words scream in her head, “Back and forth!” Her mind sprinted to find the one word she somehow knew would stop all of this. Suddenly, with revelation dancing in her eyes she screamed. “Toggle!”
The inhuman tone didn’t waver but the Limrid, once lying in the grass heaving and bleeding, suddenly arched its back up off the ground; hissing as every muscle contracted; its citrine eyes maniacal as he bared his sharp brown fangs.
Awilda gasped as a smile stretched across her face, “Tauggle,” she cried over the piercing wail, “I claim you!”
The Limrid grabbed onto its abdomen as if in pain. A white light began to radiate off of its body; growing brighter and brighter, causing the Protectors to shield their eyes. The wind grew stronger and more ferocious as it began to cyclone around the creature; sending debris flying in all directions as the trees flailed and bent backward as if their trunks were rubber.
Junior hovered closer to Awilda, anchoring her to the ground and closing his eyes; feeling the sting of light through his eyelids. The high pitched frequency abruptly stopped and a force of energy shot from the cyclone in every direction, sending everyone flying several feet backwards.
After crashing into the trunk of a tree Kingsley’s eyes shot open just as the light and wind dissipated and the Limrid fell into a motionless heap in the grass.
Awilda was still on the ground beneath Junior, who held her in his arms despite his weakened, wounded state. She pulled her face away from his chest and slid her body out from underneath him. “Be careful,” he whispered.
She got to her feet and looked to the Limrid who lied lifelessly on the ground. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, “Tauggle?”
Awilda took a step back as the figure began to move. Slowly, it pushed itself off the ground and planted its feet to stand. The figure straightened and turned to Awilda. She caught her breath at the sight of him. The once decrepit, ugly creature was healthy and vibrant. He looked human with an ethereal glow. His stark white hair was long and his pale skin was flawless. His eyes were pure black and he wore a pair of tight black leggings. She stared in awe of his strong upper body as he walked toward her before lowering to one knee in front of her and bowing his head.
Chase located his gun in his periphery and reached for it. He wrapped his fingers around the handle, and aimed it at Awilda.
Sunders, watching from the base of a tree, noticed Chase’s careful movements, “He’s got a gun!” he yelled in a raspy voice.
Junior gathered what was left of his strength and jumped in front of the girl just as Chase pulled the trigger. The bullet exploded from the barrel and shot itself into Junior’s chest cavity, stopping him dead in his tracks.
“No!” Awilda screamed at the top of her lungs. She turned to the Limrid on one knee, “Tauggle; get rid of the Protectors!”
Tauggle lifted his head and smirked. A light began emanating from him again as he expanded in size. His form grew to ten times the size of the humans in the clearing, his muscles bulging and his smile widening. The Protectors were now both armed with pistols and began shooting at the Limrid, unable to penetrate his skin. The bullets bounced off of an invisible force field like rubber balls. Tauggle inhaled a large breath before exhaling a massive gust. The wind soared over Kingsley and Junior and crashed into the Protectors, sending them flying backwards into the trees. They landed abruptly in the shadows with harsh thuds and gasps of pain. They scrambled to get back to their feet as Tauggle inhaled again. The Protec
tors stumbled backwards before turning and running away as quickly as they could.
Awilda caught sight of Junior’s knife lying on the ground. She grabbed it and kneeled down to Kingsley to cut through the netting. She freed him and ran to Junior. He looked horrible; bloody, tattered, and near death. His quick, shallow breaths sliced through the dense air as she lifted his head and rested it on her lap, stroking his short brown hair.
Kingsley kneeled down beside his young friend and exhaled deeply. He reached his hand out and placed it in the palm of Junior’s; only to have Junior turn his hand downward, declining the embrace of the old gargoyle. He turned his head in Awilda’s lap, allowing her caress to reach the back of his hair as a very small smile reached the corner of his lips. Kingsley shook his head slowly. This; all of this, he looked around; could have been avoided if it weren’t for his own inability to end his life. Now his one and only friend lay helpless on the ground fighting against death.
“Will he be okay?” Sunders cut through the silence as he got to his feet.
Kingsley glanced at the Finder, unsure of his sincerity. “I don’t know. The wounds are deep. Only time will tell.”
“He needs a doctor.”
Kingsley winced with frustration. “Yeah,” he grumbled, “we’ll just wheel a six-foot-six bloody gargoyle into the hospital; that’ll go over like a fart in church.”
Junior’s lips twitched upward further and a sharp, breathy laugh escaped his throat.
“He can’t shift?” Awilda asked in a quiet, shaky voice; too low for Sunders to hear.
Kingsley shook his head, “Not in this condition. Besides, we heal faster in our shifted state.”
Sunders forced him to stand despite the pain he was in. He looked across the clearing at the dying gargoyle and felt the pain of remorse churning his stomach. He didn’t want the creature to die. Not only was there so much he could learn from him, but the monster had also protected him, despite the chaos he’d caused by bringing the Protectors into the mix. “I know of a doctor we can take him to.” He interjected.
Kingsley narrowed his eyes at the Finder. “Forget it,” he barked, “all he needs is time.” He looked down at Junior; and if you are who I think you are then we’re about to have a divine intervention. The savior could not die before the Ultimate War.
“Tauggle,” Awilda’s small voice carried across the clearing. The enormous creature looked down at her as she motioned for him to come. He closed the distance between them and bent downward so she could whisper in his ear, “Take us back to the Vanderburen castle.” He nodded his head and reached his massive hand out to Kingsley.
“Stay the hell away from me.” Kingsley scowled.
Tauggle lifted his hand and lightly tapped the old man on the head with his forefinger. Kingsley closed his eyes and passed out. Tauggle caught him in his giant palm and lifted him through the air. He draped the old gargoyle over his shoulder and turned to Simon, who had come to only moments ago.
“Oh, hell no,” Simon began backing away, crawling toward the trees and wincing in pain. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
Tauggle smirked and tapped the blonde doctor on the head, causing him to close his eyes and drift back to sleep. Tauggle draped him over his shoulder next to the old one.
Sunders watched in awe the true existence of a Limrid. Until now he thought of them only as fiction; a figment of imagination. “Amazing,” he breathed.
“Enjoy the spectacle,” Awilda spoke; her voice harsh as she stroked the hair of a nearly lifeless Junior lying in her lap. “It’s the last time you’ll see it.” She locked eyes with Sunders. “I’m sorry, but I’m done with the DAA. I’m sure you can understand why.”
“Aye,” Sunders nodded. “I meant no harm to any of you, please believe me.”
“Let me be clear,” Awilda continued, “after what I’ve seen tonight it’s not you I distrust; it’s the Protectors.” Her shoulders softened and a slight smile played across her lips as she looked into Sunders’ eyes. “Thank you for bringing me into this world, it has given me answers to so many questions that doctors and tests had tried to give me for years; but please, do not try to find me again. This is where your journey ends.”
Tauggle reached down and wrapped his fingers around an injured Junior. He lifted the gargoyle and turned to leave.
“Wait!” Sunders called. Awilda stood and looked at him over her shoulder. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say, “Take off your shoes.” He could see the look of revelation in the girl’s eyes as she removed her brand new shoes and threw them into the clearing, ridding herself of all tracers. Tauggle held out his enormous hand for her. She smiled and placed her tiny palm on the tip of his finger. Sunders watched as they took a step forward before disappearing into thin air. His eyes widened as they darted back and forth, looking for any signs that gargoyles were ever here; there were none. He was alone, the weapons scattered across the clearing had vanished along with all trails and pools of blood. The park looked completely untouched. The gargoyles were gone.
47
Awilda emerged from her bedroom at the Vanderburen castle. She had finished taking a hot shower and now wore a pair of borrowed sweatpants and an old t-shirt of Cooper’s. Her hair hung in damp strands over her shoulders as she made her way down the spiral staircase. She could hear people bickering in the living room; most likely the same argument they were having when she went upstairs an hour ago.
They had just arrived back at the castle earlier that night. Kingsley and Elizabeth requested the privacy of the guest house. Even though it was clear he was uneasy, Junior bit his tongue and didn’t object. The old man would rather kill himself than watch Elizabeth die, clearly she was in good hands with him; and he made her happy, which is what Junior lived for.
Simon took the bedroom next to Awilda’s. He wanted to be as close to her as possible in case anyone tried to hurt her again. He appeared to be wounded more than anyone had thought. His legs could barely support his weight as Zeff helped him up the stairs to his room. He passed out on the bed almost immediately and she assumed he wouldn’t emerge for some time.
The existence of Tauggle was the primary source of contention in the castle. Bawls, Alvin and Mason seemed intrigued by him, but it was clear Cooper and Zeff took issue; and there inlaid the argument.
“It’s not a puppy,” Cooper began, “we can’t keep it just because it followed you home.”
Kingsley’s new determination to prove himself to Awilda had him standing up for her and insisting they allow Tauggle to remain in the household. “He’s under her command; he won’t hurt any of you.”
“I thought she was the spawn of Satan.” Cooper snipped.
“Forget everything I said,” Kingsley continued, “none of it is true; I’m sorry for deceiving you like I did.”
“Then there’s no reason for you to live here.” Zeff sniffed.
“No, there’s not; but for right now we don’t have any other place to go. Please, the Protectors will be looking for her now; and there’s going to be more of them; don’t kick us out just yet.”
Awilda reached the bottom of the staircase and caught a sound bite from the argument in the other room. Cooper scoffed, “Well, at least tell the Limrid to put on a shirt; it’s creeping me out,” Yep, same argument. Awilda turned and looked out the wall of windows to see a figure standing in the rose garden.
Junior stood before his mother’s makeshift grave. He knew it was long overdue and prayed that his mother wasn’t upset with him. She was his everything; she was his queen. It would kill him if he knew he disappointed her. Perhaps that’s the reason he never visited her resting place. Now to find out she knew all along what he was; and that she was a bigger prophecy nut than Kingsley. That was a shocker. His mother was always down to earth and grounded. The thing was, if she had explained the prophecy to him before she passed then he probably would have believed every word of it. He would have taken it as gospel. Instead he spent the past how many years shooting K
ingsley down every time he tried to mention the ‘P’ word.
He raised his hand to his chest to rub his bullet wound. It still hurt like hell. The knife wound in his side and the holes in his back and abdomen still made it difficult for him to stand up straight. It was a miracle none of his major organs had been penetrated. Of course Kingsley would tell him it was because he was the savior and therefore protected by higher powers. For all he knew, King could be right. He really didn’t know what to think anymore.
“Have you decided what to bury?”
Junior pivoted to see Awilda standing before him. She had recently showered. Her hair was still damp and she wore an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. She looked relaxed and absolutely beautiful. She lifted her chin slightly, revealing the bruising on her neck. Junior couldn’t handle the guilt. He wanted to slice his own throat. Instead he fell to his knees before her. “I don’t expect you to ever forgive me,” he started, “but I’m so sorry; and I swear to you I will never hurt you again.”
“I know,” Awilda said quietly, “you proved yourself in the park. You’re very brave, you know. I suppose I was trying to be the same when you told me of the prophecy. I didn’t fight because I knew you’d win and if nothing else I wanted to die with dignity.”
Junior looked up to the young woman in front of him. She seemed uncomfortable with the eye contact and shifted her gaze to a rose bush that bloomed next to her. “I’ve contemplated ending my own life many times; too many to count, really. The thing is, I’ve never had someone who I truly believed would care if I was gone.” She inhaled deeply, “Sure, my grandparents at one point in time, but after the incident with my grandfather it became clear that my grandmother wanted nothing to do with me. I kind of figured Simon would care, but I had seen patients of his pass before. I knew exactly how he would react. He would mourn in a very diplomatic way; no tears, just a moment of silence and then he would resume his work. I guess the fact that he followed me all the way to London should tell me that he cares more for me, but deep down I always expected the same reaction. I suppose I just couldn’t find a reason as to why the world would be any different without me in it. Then you put a blade to my throat.” She looked at the man sitting on his knees in the middle of the rose garden. He had pleading eyes as he listened to her speak. “I wanted to die, and I was relieved that the time had finally come; but just as you pushed the blade into my skin I looked into your eyes and for the first time I felt like I needed to live. I may be way off base here and please don’t correct me if I am; but I felt like your world would be different if I wasn’t in it.