by R. T. Lowe
The silence dragged on, weighing heavier with every second.
“Hey Harper,” Felix finally muttered, awkwardly, sinking his hands deep into the pockets of his sweatshirt.
And then, to his surprise, Harper ran right up to him and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, squeezing him like she was afraid someone was going to rip him from her arms. “Thank God you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” he murmured.
“Hey.” Allison came around the front of Bill’s car, giving Felix a questioning look.
“I was so worried about you,” Harper said to Felix. “I’ve been looking for you all morning.”
Felix couldn’t believe Harper was here—actually here, at the Cliff Walk, in his arms, right this very second. A thousand different things were going through his head all at once, choking off whatever synapses are responsible for speech and higher thought. His few non-oxygen-deprived brain cells were trying to come up with a plausible explanation as to why he and Allison were hanging out at the Cliff Walk with a Range Rover and a Mercedes at their personal disposal—not to mention why their faces were spattered with blood and grime.
Harper took a step back, giving Felix’s eyes the space they needed to settle on the familiar features of her face: her gorgeous blue eyes, her broad shapely mouth, and the little spots on her cheeks where dimples formed when she laughed. She looked up at him, smiling shyly. “So do you want to tell me what happened to you guys?”
“Whose car is that?” Allison broke in, pointing at the sedan, a newer model Nissan Altima with Washington plates.
“Fallon’s friend.” Harper’s eyes stayed on Felix. “I have to get it back to her today ‘cause she’s going back to Olympia tomorrow. I can’t even tell you how worried I’ve been. The same goes for Caitlin and Lucas. You shouldn’t have just left without saying anything.”
“I know. It’s just that…” There was no way to explain to her what had happened in Bill’s office, and even if he could, he knew that he didn’t want to, so he let the sentence trail off in the wind.
“I didn’t know you were so close to our RD,” Allison said, her voice guarded. “You’ve talked to Fallon like three times all year.”
“We’re not.” Harper paused. “But no one’s around the dorm but her and some of her friends.”
“How’d you find us?” Allison asked.
“Your text.” Harper’s eyebrows pulled together. “You told us you were in Cove Rock so I went to Felix’s grandma’s house—thank God for the Internet—but no one was there. It’s a good thing it’s a small town ‘cause I was about to head back to Portland, but I saw you guys driving this”—she looked over at the Range Rover—“when I was getting gas on Main Street. I followed you, but I got caught behind some cars and couldn’t see where you’d turned off. I kept going for like another thirty minutes. I knew you must’ve gotten off the main road somewhere, so I hung a U-ey and went down a few roads looking for you. And then I drove down Cliff Walk Road and saw Felix’s car in the parking lot.” She smiled brightly at Felix. “And now here I am.”
He smiled back, but it felt strained, like he was posing for a school photo.
“Felix’s car?” Allison said, confused.
Harper tilted her head as though she didn’t understand the question. “Yeah,” she said after a moment of hesitation, nodding at the Range Rover. “Felix’s car.”
“You think that’s Felix’s car?” Allison asked with a faint, skeptical laugh. “You’re joking, right?”
“Of course I’m joking.” Abruptly, Harper started to giggle.
Felix laughed along, although he didn’t really get the joke—maybe he was just too fried for humor.
Allison wasn’t laughing. She crossed her arms, watching Harper with wary eyes. “So tell me about Felix’s car.”
“What do you mean?” Harper’s tone was defensive.
“What kind of car is it? What’s it look like?”
“What’s she talking about?” Harper said to Felix, shaking her head and rolling her eyes as if to say Allison’s losing it.
“C’mon, Harper,” Allison persisted. “Simple question. What kind of car does Felix drive?” A sharp edge had crept into her voice.
“It’s a car!” Harper snapped through tight lips, throwing up her arms. “Who cares? I don’t remember.”
“How can you not remember?” Allison said doubtfully. “You’ve been in it.”
“Hey,” Felix interjected. “I’m not taking it personally. My car’s kinda forgettable. It’s not a big deal.”
“Forgettable?” Allison shouted over the wind as she uncrossed her arms. “Are you being serious? Your car’s a disaster—but definitely not forgettable.”
“Whatever.” Harper smiled, but it didn’t reach up to her eyes.
Allison and Harper stared silently at each other. The air felt tense, and heavier than the cold mist moving in over the shoreline.
With a cock of her head, as if something had suddenly occurred to her, Allison took out her cell from the pocket of her oversized hoodie, tapped the screen and regarded it with a serious expression. Then her eyes grew large and the fine worry lines vanished from her forehead. She looked up from the phone. “So how’d you know we were in Cove Rock?” she said to Harper.
“Your text,” Harper said curtly, her expression turning hard. “You already asked me that. What’s your deal, anyway?”
“You mean the text where I said, ‘He’s fine. I got him’. Where’d I say anything about Cove Rock?”
“What are you even talking about?” Harper’s voice was edging higher. “If you didn’t tell me you were in Cove Rock, then how the hell did I know to come here?”
“Good question!” Allison held out her phone with a quick thrust—arm straight, elbow locked—so that Harper could see the screen. “Read it! Where’s it say Cove Rock? C’mon! Read it!”
Harper swatted the phone from Allison’s hand. It hit the ground and skipped across the pavement, stopping under the engine block of Bill’s car.
A weighty silence descended on the Cliff Walk.
“What the hell?” Allison yelled in surprise. “What are you—”
Without warning—not so much as a word or a twitch—Harper kicked Allison in the side of the head, sending her reeling against the hood of the Range Rover.
Felix was absolutely stunned. He’d seen a lot of crazy things recently—things sane people would simply never believe—but this was right near the apex of that sky-scraping pile of strangeness. He was still trying to figure out why Harper thought he owned a Range Rover and whether or not she’d ever seen his Wrangler (it had been at the repair shop for most of the semester), and the dispute over the text was lost on him because he didn’t know what Allison had sent. But now his text and car-related confusion faded into the background as he watched Allison steadying herself against Bill’s car, placing a stunned hand over the red blotch on her face where Harper had just unleashed some kind of karate kick he never imagined she was capable of—Harper was into shoes, expensive pocketbooks and romantic comedies. Not martial arts.
Allison pushed herself away from the car, bristling with anger, and went after her. Felix knew he had to do something before things got really out of control. “Hey!” he shouted sharply, reaching out for Harper. “Stop! Both of you!”
The palm of her hand flashed out at him, striking him in the chest. His eyes involuntarily closed for a moment, and when they opened, he found himself reclining on his butt ten feet from where Harper was standing. He sucked in a wheezing breath of cold air, feeling as though his sternum had been grafted onto his spine, like the two were now part of the same skeletal architecture. Harper—all 110 pounds of her—had hit him harder than he’d ever been hit in his life, Jimmy Clay included. After a few more painful breaths, he concluded that his lungs hadn’t collapsed, but he was struggling to reorient himself to the strange fact that Harper could punch like a battering ram.
While Felix was trying to chase th
e clouds from his mind, and trying to breathe, Allison was throwing a hard, seriously-intentioned punch at Harper’s face—which she deftly blocked. Harper countered with her own left hook that Allison ducked under. Harper followed that up by exploding on Allison with a flurry of punches and kicks. Allison covered up, using her arms and shins to block the blows. Harper snapped off a kick at Allison’s lower leg. Allison jumped and landed a crushing blow to Harper’s head, knocking her sideways. Felix expected Harper to be down for the count. But she didn’t even wobble; she just allowed the momentum of the punch to carry her over into a cartwheel, then she bounced back up to her feet.
Harper stepped back and acknowledged Allison for a moment with an appraising eye and an approving nod of her head. Then she smiled, placing her hand along the contours of her cheek. “You’ve got some skills, girl—unlike your boyfriend over there.” She jabbed a thumb disparagingly at Felix who was still on his butt, watching the fight like a dumbfounded spectator, stunned into immobility at the sight of Allison and Harper throwing themselves at each other like experienced MMA fighters.
“They say everyone has their own methods,” Harper began, glancing back and forth from Allison to Felix. “But if you’re going to test someone, why not have a little fun doing it?” She drew her hands behind her waist and clasped them together as if she was about to start pacing. But she didn’t—she stayed put, her eyes on Allison. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now. So it’s not like I haven’t given it any thought.” She paused, then broke out into a big smile. “You guys ready to have some fun?” When she brought her hands forward, they were no longer empty.
Felix’s first impression was that she was holding an electrical cord in each hand. They were black, coated in rubber, rolled up just like electrical cords get rolled up and stored away when they’re not in use, and otherwise very cord-like in every way. Of course that didn’t make any sense. Why would Harper be walking around with electrical cords? And where would she be hiding them? In her jacket?
The electrical cords—which was exactly what they turned out to be—uncoiled themselves all on their own, extending out until they reached well past Allison on either side of her, framing her in. And then the air crackled like the gun in Bill’s trunk had fired off two rounds.
Felix jumped at the sound—so much so that his butt actually lifted off the blacktop.
Allison was rapidly backpedaling away from Harper, sliding toward the sedan. The electrical cords followed after her, cutting through the air in looping circles, coiling and lashing out like vipers. Like whips. But much longer than whips—nearly twice the length of Fallon’s Nissan.
Felix gawked. Then he blinked hard to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. A moment later when his eyes continued to confirm that Harper was in fact wielding a pair of electrical cords, he sprang to his feet and tried to tell her to stop. When he couldn’t get his voice to project any sound, he cleared it and tried again.
“Harper, stop.” It sounded weak. Whiny. Harper heard him but it only made her laugh as she stalked after Allison.
“Come on girlfriend,” Harper said sweetly, ignoring Felix, trailing behind the hissing cords.
Allison stole a darting glance at Felix and said, “A little help, please!” The car was to her back. She was almost out of space.
“What’s he gonna do?” Harper said with a chuckle, and stopped.
“Just calm down,” Felix managed to say, moving closer. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
At that, Harper burst out in a hearty roar of laughter, her eyes briefly moving to Felix before her punishing stare returned to Allison. “Why don’t you come closer, Allison? Aren’t we friends? I thought we were like BFFs?” One of the cords raised itself up and snapped down inches from Allison’s face, rippling the air and sweeping the hair back from her forehead.
Allison jumped back until she was pressing up against the car. Trapped. “Felix…?”
“Please, stop,” Felix pleaded as the cords swung in circles and loops above Allison’s head, slicing through the damp air. “Let’s talk.”
Harper rolled her eyes at him. “Would you just shut the hell up!”
Felix was close enough now to get a good look at Harper’s hands. Any lingering doubts lingered no more: Harper wasn’t moving her hands. She just held on to the ends as though she was gripping a pair of pencils in a child’s fist-grip. But the cords were moving—which didn’t make sense, of course. Unless—
A cord was whistling directly for his face. He jerked his head back and threw himself to the ground. When he lifted his head, he realized Harper had set them up. She wasn’t going after him. She wasn’t taking him seriously—that much was clear. Her target all along had been Allison.
Both cords had wrapped themselves around Allison’s arms, beginning at the elbows and winding their way up to her wrists like lethal vines. The taut cables were stretching her arms out straight and unbending, pulling them away from her body and over her head at forty-five degree angles. From the look on Allison’s face, Felix could tell she was trying to break free, though the cords didn’t bend or sag.
“That was too easy.” Harper puckered her lips in disappointment. “I’d really hate to have to fail you both.” She nodded solemnly at Allison. “I thought you, at least, had a shot. But if I have to, I will. After all, I did take an oath. And if you’re not Sourcerors that’s not really my fault, now is it? Not all of us can be Drestianites.”
Drestianites?
The possibility that Harper could actually be a Sourceror—a Drestianite!—had no more than crossed Felix’s mind when Allison went airborne. The cords around Allison’s arms jerked her feet off the pavement and pulled her toward Harper, who was rearing her head back. As soon as Allison’s elevation dropped and her toes skidded along the surface, Harper snapped her head forward and smashed her forehead into Allison’s face.
Allison stumbled backward, her eyes went white, and for an instant, her mouth fell open and her head slumped to one side as if she’d lost consciousness. She blinked woozily as blood poured from her mouth. Harper looked amused, like she was watching a sitcom in the common room before dinner. Then she started taunting her. “Ooooh. That looks like it hurt, Allie. Nice move though, don’t you think?” She raised her arms and addressed the heavens: “And yes, ladies and gentlemen, that just happened! Boo-yah!”
Felix sprang into action without thinking about what he was going to do. Harper saw him coming out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head slowly and stared him down, smiling. “Take another step and I’ll tear her arms off!”
Felix froze, afraid to move; it didn’t seem like an idle threat, especially after watching her toss Allison around like she was weightless. He thought for a moment, but couldn’t come up with anything that wouldn’t end in broken bones. He was confident that he could break Harper’s arms just like he’d broken Tripoli’s—but that would involve breaking Harper’s arms—and there had to be a way to resolve this without crippling Harper. But where did that leave him? He couldn’t do nothing. And he obviously couldn’t let Harper dismember Allison. So he stood there watching, hoping a better plan would present itself to him—and soon.
And then Allison made a move of her own.
Gripping an electrical cord in each hand, Allison tugged hard and yanked Harper off balance, causing her to lurch forward. Before Harper knew what was happening, Allison slammed her forehead into her face. Harper teetered, looking bewildered, and sank to her butt, blood trickling from her nose. The cord coiled around Allison’s left arm shriveled up and thumped to the ground beside her.
The beginnings of a plan came to Felix’s mind: If he moved fast he could restrain Harper with her own cord. That way he wouldn’t have to break her arms or hurt her. They could even talk; he could find out who she really was and why she was here—maybe there was a sensible explanation for all this. He sprinted for her, keeping his eyes on the cord still looped around Allison’s right arm.
The world was upside
down. No—not the world—Felix was upside down. Upside down and suspended high above the parking lot as though he was a bungee jumper after the descent waiting for the operator to lower him to the surface. His arms hung straight, fingers pointing down. A black cord had coiled itself around his left leg from knee to ankle. He raised his upper body until it was parallel to the ground and forced his fingers under the cord, which was on tighter than a blood pressure sleeve. Then he felt a fierce tug at the ankle, and suddenly, he was heading back to earth, and fast.
Out of instinct, Felix covered up his head as the pavement rose up and greeted him in a cold hard embrace. Scorching pain consumed his whole body. In his line of sight (ground level lying on his belly) were two SUVs and the ticket kiosk in the background. He wondered where Harper was for just a moment before realizing he was facing the wrong way.
Like a jungle snare latching onto a careless animal, Harper snatched him up into the air. He heard Allison shouting his name. He searched for her, but he was swinging back and forth with his eyes pointing down at the asphalt ten feet below. Just as he glimpsed a blurred fragment of Allison—it looked like she was still wobbly, and only the cord was keeping her on her feet—Harper rag-dolled him against the crumbling asphalt, crushing the air out of his lungs.
“Had enough?” Harper looked over at him, giving her head a disappointing shake, unmoved by the fresh blood that spattered his bare legs. She hoisted him back up off the ground and said in a pleasant voice: “I should probably just put you out of your misery since you’re no use to us.”
Felix caught a glimpse of her face just before his own face smashed into one of the dull yellow parking lines painted in evenly spaced rows across the rain-spotted pavement. She was laughing with her mouth wide open, like a tantruming child gleefully taking out her anger on her most expensive toy to get a reaction from her parents. Through the fog of confusion, he wondered how she could do this to him, and how she could be enjoying it.