No one knows how it was constructed. It couldn’t be reached without Pop’s new toy. According to legend, the statue isn’t just a statue; it’s a Holy Relic. That means—holy properties. Allegedly, the sculpture infuses infinite wisdom, pre-original sin, to those within its immediate vicinity. The waterfall is treacherous. There have been many failed attempts to reach it.
“They climbed into the new car. It absorbed its wheels and lifted off the ground.”
I clutch the pillow tightly already knowing the ending. She touches my shoulder. I can almost feel heat coming off her phantom extremity.
“Shane and his friend were going to take it for a spin when your parents returned,” she continues.
“What friend?”
“His best friend, Dagan.”
I stare at her wide-eyed. Tossing the pillow to the side, I walk to the bed slowly. I sit down. “Wait. So, Dagan and Shane are friends…”
“Yup,” Persephone replies, playing with an imaginary plastic phone. The archaic 1990s Dream Phone board game to be exact.
“I was talking to myself, Seph.”
“He’s not wearing a hat,” a younger male voice cries from her bulky hot pink cellular device.
“It’s not Dan,” she mumbles, flipping through cards sporting pictures of the guys in the game. 1990s mushroom haircuts don many of the heads. You call their phone numbers to see which one ‘likes you.’
“How long?” I ask, flopping on my back.
“Ever since Shane was appointed leader. They hit it off at one of the boxing matches between Crystal and Onyx.” Wow. How did I not know this?
“He’s not at the beach.” The male voice recording plays through the phone’s speaker. Lower this time, borderline creepy. “Hmm… Not George. Darn. He’s cute,” Persephone says, putting his card to the side.
“Seph, does Dagan know what happened to Shane?” I ask louder.
“He knows that Shane is missing and it’s not good,” she says, dialing. A chorus of electronic beeps followed by a low brrr-ring.
“What?” I shoot up. “How? Why didn’t he tell me?”
“I know who it is, but I’m not telling….” The voice taunts from the pink earpiece.
“Seph,” I shout, staring daggers.
“What?” She looks up from her cards. “Oh. Let’s see. Dagan plays his cards close to the vest. He probably wanted to see what you know.”
“But why wouldn’t Shane tell me about him? Best friends and all.”
A low brrr-ring…“You’re right. I really like you,” the voice exclaims. “Yes,” Persephone drawls out, arms up. “It’s Steve. You know he’s the cutest.” She flips through the cards.
“Yeah, with his hoodie and slightly messy mushroom cut… A little dangerous…” I reply. “No. Seph, focus.”
“Okay, okay,” she swipes the game pieces away and they disappear into thin air. “People get busy. You had your hands full. He would’ve probably introduced you at some point.”
“He didn’t.”
“Nope.”
“So, at the waterfall…”
“When your parents went up to the statue, the tide shifted unexpectedly and the car vanished. Never came back. Shane and Dagan waited there for two days.”
“I had no idea Dagan was there.”
“He left before you showed up.”
We never heard from our parents again. I like to think they found their way to another dimension, maybe the Spirit Plane.
“How do you know this, Seph?”
“I have my sources,” she winks and poofs into a puff of hot pink glitter. I try to process this. Shane and Dagan.
“I bet he’s looking for Shane,” I infer aloud. “That’s why he’s in the Cush. Oh my gosh, Seph, the statue—” I call jumping up. “The note, that’s where he is.”
“Let’s try Shane,” I exclaim. “He’s got info.”
I rush over to the bed and pick up the phone. Persephone perches on the nightstand. I turn the dial eight, six, four, one and wait. Nothing. I try again and still get silence. One last time and I hear the whir and soft click. The phone shakes in my hand as I press the earpiece to my head.
“I’m sorry, but the spirit you are trying to reach is temporarily unavailable.” Click. I stand there with the phone in my hand.
“Unavailable? What does that mean?”
“He told you he was busy, Lyv,” Persephone says, adjusting her hair in an imaginary mirror.
“Okay, but we need to get to the Cush,” I reply, rifling through my bag. I pull out some fitted jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Light grey and very thin. I top it with one of Shane’s hoodies. A black football one adorned with Eaglets, his amateur team when he was in training.
“Do you know how to get there?” I ask.
“There should be a map in the Vortex book that you got from the library,” she says. I really want to know where she gets her intel. Maybe one day when I’m not trying to destroy the Devil, himself, I can drill her. I find a large intricate map in the book. It appears 3D and full-color. In fact, where there is water it looks as though it’s flowing. Light sheens on different marked spots. I see The Rock. Its ancient location flashes when I shift the book. I see one silver particularly large waterfall glittering brighter than any other. There is a sparkling white figure near the top. The statue.
“There it is, Seph,” I say, pointing. She looks over my shoulder.
“Yep, that’s it,” she confirms brightly.
“Can you mimic the map?” I ask. A mimic is the same as taking an old-school picture. The only difference is she captures the entire book in 3D. Then she can read it as though she’s got the real thing. Very helpful.
“Already did,” she says, finishing her scan.
I pull my hair back up in a messy bun using the shrunken crown. I look at my sandals. The trek is very long through a wooded mystical forest. You have to travel the length of the forest trail to get to the falls and cliffs. It goes upward gradually along the mountainous region finally opening to the mouth of the waterfall. Our destination. The strappy sandals just won’t do. Neither will stilettos.
I search through all my things. I’ve got three other pairs to choose from, but they’re all wrong. Flip flops, dressy wedge ankle boots, and over-the-knee-black stilettos, similar to Scarlett’s with the corset tie back, but no design. Her boots are so cute, I think. Oh, wait, I feel one more pair.
I unearth a pair of red-bottomed Christian Louboutin shoes, which remind me of my snake heels. They are also stilettos, although open-toed and covered with sparkly gold vines that wrap around the foot. Various bronze and chocolate diamonds adorn gold flowers along intricate straps. The vines go up past the ankles where they break into gold tulle that puffs out into mini tutus. Part of my Gold Shire attire. I guarantee they have no magical powers, especially considering who surprised me with them.
“These won’t do,” I say to Persephone. She’s inspecting the gold footwear.
“You won’t last a half-mile,” she says. “The sandals worked very well on your last trek.”
“That’s true, but it’s cold and muddy in the Cush.”
“They’re Holy Relics. Just wear ‘em,” she replies. I pick them up and carry them to the couch. After I get them fastened, I walk over to my bag and pack.
“You sure we’re unseen in Crystal?” I ask Seph as I pick up the Slab.
“Yep, 100%. I have my sources,” she says again with a wink.
“Okay, let’s hit the road.”
“Should we bring Scarlett and Connor with us?” she asks.
“No, it’s late, and she’s got kids. I’m sure he has a family himself. It’s dangerous, and they’ll be a distraction. Besides, I’m doing…”
“This alone,” she finishes.
“You got that right,” I say, closing the Slab. Persephone’s hologram gets sucked into the notebook.
Downstairs, I find the same paisley bag from before filled with food and drinks. No note this time. I know from the
map where to pick up the trail. I have to go through town again. The path is on the left, just past the trail that leads to the floss bridge.
18
It’s just before midnight when I leave. The town is eerily dark. Silent. Creepy. I keep along the street and hear a shuffling down an alleyway between two crystalline buildings. In the shadowy passageway, I spot a gigantic form step toward the opening. Bryce.
“I thought you boys would be home by now,” I announce into the darkness.
“Nope, Lyvia,” he replies, stepping into the moon’s grey glow. “Levi sent message we should hang out a bit longer.”
“Where’s your group leader?” I ask, trying my best to sound steady.
“Oh. Damien,” he rolls his eyes. “He had us split up. Wasn’t sure where you’d be.”
“So, you’re the lucky one then,” I reply, standing firmly on my spot.
“Oh, I’d say I’m the luckiest,” he drawls, licking his bulbous lips. They shine in the moon’s glow. Two overlapping, bloated pig intestines.
“I’m not so sure about that.” Stay strong, Lyvia.
“Come on, Lyvia.” He steps closer. “You’re a little old for my taste, but I’ve wanted a piece since the first day Levi paraded you around. I liked you best as a redhead.”
Ew. Red is my worst color. Doesn’t fit my complexion. I switched it up often. That one was specially reserved for diverting attention. Of course, this creep would like it best.
“Yeah, you looked like a schoolgirl. Pippi Longstocking with glasses.” He steps even closer. We’re about eight feet away from each other.
“You are disgusting,” I hiss, deciding whether I should try to run. Where are his friends?
“Lyvia, you know I gotta take you with me.” He licks his ballooned lips again. “But I’m thinking we can have some fun first.”
“I don’t,” I respond. He steps closer. Five feet. I toss my bags to the side.
“You know how much fun it’s gonna be in ‘New Heaven?’ Lyvia, you will love it there. We can do anything we want.” Three feet.
“As great as that sounds, Bryce, it’s not for me.”
“I think it is.” A step closer and he reaches for my hair. “We can make you red again.” I jerk away from his Italian sausage fingers tipped with dirty nails.
“Oh, Lyvia, you know I like a fighter. Maybe you can bring your spikes out again. Whatever those were. I like it rough, you know…”
He reaches to grab me, but I adeptly duck his massive arms. He loses his balance momentarily, and I gain some space. I don’t know when his pals are going to make an appearance. I figure I can outrun him, until I spot the raygun tucked in his snug waistband. Shit.
“I like this game, Lyvia, but you should know—I always win.” He raises a bushy blonde eyebrow. It resembles a fat maize caterpillar attached to his forehead.
We circle each other slowly. I try to figure out how I can get these shoes off and will them to transform. Why did they not come with instructions?
“Come on, Bryce. We both know that isn’t true. Levi’s your boss. Oh, and Damien, right? Wow. You get two big bosses ordering you around. Definitely sounds like winning to me.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just eye candy.” He takes a giant step toward me. I dodge out of reach. He lunges again, a huge fist misses me by inches. I figure I can keep using his size against him. A few more swings and misses, and Gustav is breathing heavily. Not enough cardio, I think to myself.
“Come on, Bryce. Can’t you do better than that? You look like Chunk from The Goonies, but on blue elixir, I’ll give you that,” I provoke, breathing moderately.
“Who’s that?” he asks, standing upright.
“Don’t worry about it,” I reply, taking a step back. I can tell he’s going for another swing. I duck and kick him in the groin, hard. It doesn’t affect him. My money is he’s on elixir. The ‘lix’ has him immune to pain right now. My blunder gives him the upper hand. He slams me against the brick wall. Five giant sausages cover my throat. Not this again.
“Now we can have playtime,” he whispers against my ear. His breath covers my nose, spoiled beef stew with remnants of bourbon. I want to puke. My feet dangle helplessly. Looks as though the shoes might be sitting this one out.
“Hey, Bryce, what’ve you got?” A voice sounds from the darkness. Chad.
“Damn it,” Bryce mutters against my ear. Hot sticky breath cloaks the side of my face. “I guess I’ll just wait for another time.”
“Yeah, I got her,” he calls loudly to Chad.
“Sweet, I’ll tell Damien.” Chad appears in the moonlight. He’s wiry and strong, young. Curly dirty blonde hair adorns his head.
“Put me down,” I sneer through gritted teeth.
“Not yet, sweetie. I remember what happened last time.”
“Put her down. Now.” Damien. Welcome to your circus. Reign in your damn monkeys already. Bryce drops me to the ground unceremoniously. I rub my neck where his bulging fingers were clutched.
“You okay?” Damien asks with a touch of tenderness.
“Been better,” I manage.
“Look, Lyvia, it’ll be easier if you just come with us. So, let’s just try that,” Damien implores, about two feet away from me. “Okay? What do ya say?”
“I say, that I have somewhere I need to be and it’s not with you.”
“I think you’re not gonna make it to that waterfall,” he replies, now two feet in front of me. “And, I need to search you this time. None of us can figure out where those metal spikes came from.”
“Where do you propose we go?” I ask, shifting gently from foot-to-foot. Nothing happens.
“Can’t tell ya that, Lyvia,” he replies, looking me up and down. “What’s with the side shuffle?”
“Damien, could you and I possibly talk somewhere without an audience?” I ignore his question with a glance at his troupe.
“Not a good idea, boss,” Gustav growls, placing a thick pink hand on his raygun.
“Bryce.” The name hangs in the air; a slowly swaying Salem witch. “I decide what ideas are good. Never you. Never. You. Do you understand?”
“But—last time, you know, she had those things and you know—” he stutters. His pink face flushes so red it looks akin to excessively applied Santa Claus rouge.
“Damien, I just want to talk to you. Figure out what’s really going on here,” I interject, equally wanting to lessen the crowd and find out how in the world Damien knows I’m heading to the waterfall.
“Yeah, okay,” he says, eyes finally meeting mine. “Guys, get Sam and wait in the Goldster. I’ll be fine.”
“Got it,” Chad says, spinning away. “Come on, Bryce.” Bryce stares a beat before turning around.
“Later, Chunk,” I give a small wave. I can’t help myself. He pauses a second but continues on. Good choice.
“Let’s take a walk,” Damien leads, taking my arm. I actually don’t mind the gesture. Damien and I have somewhat of a history together, not romantic per se, but history nonetheless. I’m still peeved from earlier, although my wound has fully healed. Interesting.
We walk along the path toward the forest. Solar streetlights dazzle the pebbled gemstone walkway with large pointy stars. We find a bench in a clearing near the beginning of the forest. Through the trees you can see the rushing brook. Moonlight dances across the water—a very fast quickstep on its aquamarine surface.
“Where’s Levi?” I ask, sitting down. The bench is large and shaped as a horseshoe. He sits across from me.
“I can’t tell you that,” he answers, taking out a cigarette. He hands me one and lights it. “But why do I think you already know the answer to that query?” he mutters, mouth wrapped around the cig he’s lighting.
“Because I do.”
“Thought so,” he says, elbows now resting on his thighs.
“I need to go there, but I need to do it on my terms,” I say.
“Lyvia, that’s fine. I d
on’t have orders to bring you in anymore.”
“Why?”
“Not sure. Levi doesn’t even tell me everything. All he said was to keep a look out for you and report back.”
“And how do you do that? Report back?”
“Guess ‘report back’ isn’t accurate. He comes to me. Just like he always has. I wait. He comes on his time.”
“What? He said to keep an eye out, but just let me go on my merry way? Then why’d you just try to get me to come with you just now?”
“Oh Lyvia, you know I can’t make everything easy on ya. Gotta have a little fun.”
“Gustav back there didn’t seem to understand that.”
“Chunk doesn’t understand a lot of things,” he laughs. “I don’t have to tell you that. The Goonies. That’s a good one, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I laugh. “But, still, he didn’t seem to get that.”
“Yeah, Levi told me what was up right before I got to you.”
“How do I even know you’re telling the truth?”
“Because, Lyvia, games aside, I think you know how I really feel about you.” He flicks his cigarette and takes a drag.
“Well, what was with that display earlier today?” I ask, taking a drag of my own.
“Come on, Lyvia,” he replies, exhaling smoke. “I know you feel the same way. I’d rather you come to that conclusion on your own.” Damien was my only friend for a long time. Levi’s number two; he was with me whenever his boss was busy. And as one could imagine, his boss was busy a lot.
“Damien,” I start. “I can’t even fathom the implications of this information. Levi.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Levi.” He puts his cigarette out and tosses it in a small trashcan at the end of the bench.
“I really can’t entertain anything like that. You must realize,” I say, doing the same. I always knew how Damien felt. I think it would insult him to act like I don’t know. I also think it’s best to keep your enemies close. Also, I had thought him a close friend once upon a time.
“Fine,” he responds. “But you do know, I have to do whatever Levi says. This time, he wants you to keep going. So, I let it happen. However, I don’t know what the future says.”
I Am the Storm Page 15