I Am the Storm

by Trisha Lynn Halaas

  Brooks begins to glow from within. A pulsating light. Then a flash of bright white light and the Shane-spirit departs to Heaven. As Brooks begins to sit up, I take the opportunity to roll away from Damien.

  A nail finds my palm and I shoot it at Damien’s head, knocking him out again. Plus, one more time for retribution. Come on, my head is in need of serious medical attention here. Fair’s fair.

  “How are you?” I ask Brooks once I stumble over to him.

  “I’m okay. I really am,” he replies, running his hands over his completely intact body. He jumps up, brushes himself off, musses his thick, wavy hair, and says, “Good as new.”

  “I’m so relieved to hear that,” I say, enveloping him in a hug.

  “Me too,” he responds, returning it. He touches my head and I wince. “Whoa, what happened to you?”

  “Damien. He’s out cold now.” I grab the nails and they return to sandals. Brooks grabs both skates.

  “We have to get a first aid kit. Shane’s gotta have one inside,” Brooks says, walking to the door.

  “We gotta find one on the road. We can’t stay here. It’s not safe. He’ll be back. Probably soon,” I reply.

  “Come on, man,” Brooks says, standing in front of me. “We won’t take long. We need to patch that up. I’ll go in real quick.”

  “Brooks, there’s no ‘real quick’ with you. I would have to go in there and look through stuff. Trust me, it will take too much time.” I start walking around the house.

  “With both of us, we can—” he starts.

  He doesn’t finish because I lose my balance and fall to the ground. He comes over and helps me up.

  “See, Lyv. We can do it fast.”

  “Okay,” I acquiesce.

  Once inside, Brooks begins throwing things everywhere.

  “Hey, this isn’t a ransack, okay? Go upstairs and try the bathrooms, under the counters. I’m gonna try the bathrooms down here and the kitchen.”

  We manage to scrounge up a couple very old kits. Brooks cleans the gash, which is no longer bleeding and not as serious as it looks, doesn’t even need a bandage. It seems to be healing very quickly. The headache is nearly gone. We walk back outside and sense something amiss.

  “Where’s Damien?” Brooks asks.

  “Maybe he just left?” I say, hopeful.

  “Meh.”

  “I don’t think so either.”

  “Damien, where-oh-where are you?” I sing-song.

  “Oh shit,” Brooks says behind a stone wall.

  “What?”

  “Found him,” he replies.

  I follow his voice. Coming around the stone barricade, I spot Damien.

  He’s not alone.

  28

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Damien holds a knife against a young girl’s neck.

  “Hey, Iris. Whatcha doin out here?” I ask, tentatively approaching.

  “I was just—” the girl begins.

  “Doesn’t matter what she was doing. She won’t be around much longer to do anything of any kind if you don’t hand over those skates, Brooks,” Damien snarls.

  Brooks swings the skates upward. The laces straddle his shoulder.

  “Yeah… Don’t think so, compadre.”

  “You know, I could keep this one alive, Bryce has been looking for someone to play with,” he says, placing the knife flat against her clavicle. He uses his other hand to touch her hair.

  That’s it. I’ve known Iris since she was a little girl. No one, I mean, no one is going to touch her.

  “Don’t think I won’t do it though.” Damien slides the knife back into slicing position against her smooth, white skin.

  “Damien, maybe we can work together,” I say, stepping forward. Need to buy some time.

  “Stay where you are,” Damien replies. He moves the knife to reveal a drop of crimson below the blade.

  Another step forward.

  “Damien, you’re not getting the skates. You’re not taking Iris. If you let her go, I’ll let you live.”

  “Not happening,” he shifts the blade, now revealing a small stream of red.

  “Damien—” I start.

  What I’m unable to see is Iris unclasp a tiny gold bracelet from her wrist. When she does, it grows in size to a long, thick chain. Stealthily, she swings the chain upward. As if a mind of its own, it wraps around Damien’s neck. The knife drops to the ground. Iris runs toward us and takes her place behind me and Brooks.

  The chain squeezes tightly against Damien’s neck. He claws at its links. A futile effort. He passes out. Iris lifts her arm and the chain breaks free of Damien, shrinks, and swings back to its home. Now secure on her wrist.

  I decide to leave Damien alive. Call it weakness. I decide to call it not wanting to waste another life.

  I throw the skates in my bag surprised to see they not only fit snugly, but their weight adds little to the purse. The three of us round the house quickly. We don’t know how long he’ll be out.

  “Follow me,” Iris says.

  We do.

  Through the darkness, she takes us to the tunnel where I had been planning to stow Brooks’ body. I know exactly where she’s headed. The dark tunnel is long and narrow. Rocky cobblestone lines the path. We pass the basement entrance.

  We hear it first. Bubbling, rushing water. The tunnel opens to a clearing. A small creek crops up; it’s the one that leads to the lake behind the house. She takes us over the bridge. The trees open to another clearing. A small cottage rests in the middle of the forest, nearly invisible. I’ve been here before. It’s been far too long.

  Iris scoops a key out of her pocket and slips it into the keyhole. We burst through the threshold. The house is lit up inside. The windows make it appear to be daytime outside, opposite of the windows in Crystal. My eyes have to adjust to the light.

  Once they do, I see Iris has kept the cottage much the same from when we would meet here years ago. She’s quite a bit younger than me. Our families have been neighbors long before we even came along. I babysat her as a child. As she grew, I became kind of a mentor. Not sure if I was a good one; nonetheless, we also became friends.

  When I was a little girl, my grandmother first took me to this cottage. It belongs to my family. I was the only one who ever used it. It actually got left to me with the house when my parents died. I had told Iris long ago that it was hers to use as she wanted—a free rental. I knew she needed to get away from home to work on her various activities free from distractions.

  “You living here now, Iris?” I ask, looking around. The cottage definitely appears lived in. I see clothes strewn about. She has designated one corner to her art. An easel is set up. Finished sketches and drawings litter the area. From what I can see, they look amazing. Many eyes peer out from the paper, all different colors and expressions. There’s posed figures sketched in black and white. Colorful abstract paintings settle along the wall. She’s got a lacrosse stick slung over a coat hook. Schoolbooks take over the coffee table. Her bass leans against the opposite wall with several other instruments.

  “Yeah, too many interruptions at my house. I need my own space. Started coming here more often than staying at home. Decided to move in,” she says, opening a cupboard in the kitchenette. She takes out first aid supplies and cleans up the tiny cut on her neck. She finishes with a small bandage. It looks as if it may have a vintage cartoon character embossed on it. “Hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course, it is,” I reply. “Glad it’s of use.”

  Iris clears off the couches. We settle in the living room to debrief.

  “So, tell me about that bracelet,” Brooks says, nodding at the thin gold chain now in its resting place while he settles into the oversized memory-foam couch.

  “Oh yeah,” she says, looking down at it.

  I see the delicate chain is adorned with sharp hooks. They look painful.

  “I found this here in the cabin,” she says, shooting me a guilty look. “I tried it on. The hooks bit i
nto my skin the first time I put it on. It was painful. There was blood, a lot of it. I went to get it off, but the blood disappeared. The pain vanished. I haven’t taken it off since. Seems to be something to it. Then when that guy had me, I thought at the very least I could maybe swing it onto his wrist for a quick distraction. Maybe it’d make him bleed and he’d drop the knife. I had no idea it would do that.”

  “Lemme see it,” I say, reaching across Brooks.

  She slides the bracelet off and hands it to me. I put it on and sure enough, a blinding pain radiates from my wrist. Beads of blood appear where hooks seem to latch in. It begins to stream down my arm. I close my eyes, waiting for the pain to ebb away. It does. When I open my eyes, the blood is gone.

  “Must be another relic,” I say, removing the bracelet.

  “Another relic?” Iris asks, eyebrows perked up in question.

  “Oh yeah, she’s got all sorts of things up her sleeves,” Brooks adds.

  “You’re one to talk,” I reply, looking pointedly at his pocket where a certain fishhook resides.

  “Do you think he can find us here?” Iris asks with concern. “I’m sure he was out cold, but he could’ve regained consciousness by now.”

  “We took the twisty way here,” I reply. “Even if he regained consciousness, this is well hidden, and I know he’s not used to darkness like we are in Onyx. I doubt he’s leaving anytime soon, though. Not without those skates,” I add, with a quick glance to my bag. “However, I do think he’ll call for reinforcements here shortly.”

  “Why does he want Shane’s skates?” Iris asks.

  “I’m not sure. What I do know is that I need them for what comes next.”

  “What comes next?” Brooks asks.

  “I’ve got someplace to be, and I need both of you to help get me there,” I reply.

  “Um, hello. Don’t forget about me,” a muffled voice sounds from my bag. I pull out my Slab and Persephone materializes in front of us.

  “Hey, Seph, I can never forget about you,” I say.

  “Hey, Brooksey,” Persephone drawls. She’s wearing pigtails with lime green bows. “Been too long. And you must be Iris.”

  “Yes,” Iris responds cautiously.

  “Oh, Lyvia has told me much about you. That bracelet, wow, you found a good one,” Persephone says. She splays her arms out and a plethora of bangles don each one. “It’s a relic, you know.”

  “We gathered that much,” I respond. “What do you know about it, Seph?”

  She looks at the thin chain and puts her hand to her chin thoughtfully. Her bracelets jangle like a wind chime disturbed by a sudden gust.

  “It was St. Catherine of Siena’s. It drew blood each time she moved. She slept on a board, shaved her head, and did pretty much everything she could do to join the Sisterhood. It wasn’t until she grew very ill that her parents relented.”

  “How do you know this?” Brooks asks.

  “It’s been in the family for centuries,” she replies mysteriously.

  “Okay, we can come back to that later,” I say. “More importantly, I gotta jet, right, Seph?”

  “Oh yes, you do.”

  She sidles over to Brooks and sits on the coffee table in front of him. She pulls out a pixie stick and sprinkles some of the powdered candy onto her tongue.

  “She’s gonna need both of you,” she glances over at Iris. “Let’s assume Levi knows where you’re headed.”

  I nod because, of course, he does.

  “He’s going to have his little army staked out along the way. She’s going to need you, Brooks, for protection and distraction.”

  Brooks nods solemnly.

  “Now you,” she turns her attention to Iris, while chewing on the end of the pixie stick. “You know the way.”

  “What? Know the way where? I have no idea where you’re trying to go and what you’re trying to do,” she exclaims exasperated. “I haven’t even seen Lyvia in Onyx in a year. I only heard commotion on my way to the cabin and went to check it out. I haven’t even seen Shane in forever.”

  I realize I have yet to share the news of Shane’s death. Sucks. Every. Single. Time. Turns out, I don’t have to. My eyes say it all.

  “Oh no. I’m so sorry,” she says, silent tears run down her cheeks.

  “Me too,” Brooks adds, reaching to grasp my hand.

  “Don’t be. I’m gonna get him back.” I look resolutely at Brooks.

  “She needs you, Iris, to do it,” Persephone cries with a cheerleading clap.

  “Say what now?” Iris asks.

  “Okay, if anyone knows the way, it’s you.” Persephone materializes on the ottoman resting in front of Iris. “You know exactly where she needs to be. I know you’ve been there before,” she finishes with a wink.

  “She’s been to the tomb?” I ask incredulously.

  “Oh sure, she has, right, Iris?”

  Iris looks at her hands. “I didn’t know it was a tomb,” she responds quietly.

  “What were you doing there?” I ask.

  “The first time, I was in Crystal for training. I was assigned to study the landscape. I wanted to figure out what lies beyond the waterfalls. Sure, we know they empty to the ocean, but I have a feeling there’s something way below its surface. So, I followed a path around the falls. It wound around cliffs high above the water. I noticed a large rock wedged into the mountain behind me. Then I saw it.”

  “Whaddya see?” Brooks pipes in.

  Iris squeezes her eyes shut as if to conjure the image. When they open, the trauma revealed tells me I’m pretty sure I know exactly what she saw.

  “It looked like Levi, you know, the Leader of Gold. But, uh, his head was huge, and—”

  “There were seven of them,” Brooks finishes.

  “You’ve seen him like that?” she asks.

  “No, not personally, but a friend of ours had a vision.”

  “I don’t think it was a vision,” she replies.

  “What did he say?” Persephone asks.

  “Keep in mind, this was a few months ago. I’ve been back there several times since then. I’m not scared. I know he won’t come back. He told me so.”

  “What else did he tell you?” I ask.

  “It was more of a threat. He said you would need my help, but I’m not to help you. I’ll go to Hell if I do, blah, blah, blah. Dude, is he really the Devil?”

  “He sure is,” Persephone responds, donning a headband adorned with pointy red curved horns. She turns around, and I notice a red pointed tail and pitchfork have also materialized.

  “I can’t allow you to do this, Iris. Levi cannot be underestimated,” I say with authority.

  “It’s a little complicated, Lyv,” she replies. “You see, I very recently had a dream. I didn’t know who visited me at the time, but I have a feeling I know now. It was a male energy. I couldn’t see anybody, but a voice spoke. He told me to help you and not to worry about Levi’s threats. He said to trust him and keep a look out for you. So, that’s kind of what I’ve been doing. I didn’t realize the commotion I heard tonight was the beginning of D-Day.”

  “You got anything to drink in here, Iris?” I ask, needing something to do while I process this new information. This guy is never going to leave me alone.

  “Sure, check the fridge.”

  I do and am pleased to find a plethora of options. I pour myself a cucumber water. She’s kept the glasses in the same place.

  “Anyone else?”

  “Sure, is there any beer?” Brooks asks.

  “Yep,” I reply, twisting a cap off a bottle of golden ale.

  “Just a glass of cucumber water, thanks, Lyv,” Iris says. She seems to be in hushed conversation with Persephone.

  “Did Levi talk to you for a long time?” Brooks asks as I hand out the requested beverages.

  “No, not at all. He’s the only one that spoke. The other creepy heads seemed to be under forced silence. He merely said not to help you under any circumstances. If I do, I’ll
go to Hell, which I don’t believe for a second. Oh, and to make sure you didn’t have any hockey skates on you. If you did, I was to snatch them and bring them to him.”

  “What is with these skates?” I say, taking one out of my bag. Seems like a regular old, well-worn ice hockey skate. The blade is sharp and cool. The laces are frayed at the ends. Nothing out of the ordinary. I shrug and put it back.

  “Tell them about the map,” Persephone says.

  “Oh yeah,” Iris replies. “I was rearranging furniture for an art area.” She points to the designated corner. “I needed enough space to set up my easel where there’s light from the window when I paint.”

  “Tell her about the floorboard,” Seph interjects.

  “When I moved a rug in the corner, I noticed the wooden floor slightly lifted. The floorboard was a bit stiff, but eventually I pried it up. I found this ancient paper map.”

  “It’s got this secret shortcut to Crystal. You won’t have to go the long way through the forest,” Persephone finishes.

  I think this may be the subject of whispers a moment ago.

  “Levi’s smart, he may already have that way guarded. Both of them,” I say.

  “Impossible,” Iris replies. “It’s not visible to him. It’s holy.”

  “You see, Levi can’t step on blessed ground. He can’t even see it. It’s invisible to him,” Persephone supplies.

  “Are we invisible to him while on it?” I ask.

  “Yes,” Seph responds. “Get the map, Iris.”

  Iris goes to the secret floorboard. It takes some jimmying, but she wrests it open and pulls out a yellowed square of paper. She brings it over and unwraps it on the coffee table. When it’s open, I see that it is in fact very old. This results in a lack of detail. Still, I begin to recognize geographic locations.

  “We are here,” I say, pointing to an area covered in black.

  “Yes, and here’s Crystal,” Iris shows me an opalescent region.

  I spot a shimmering path through foliage on the outskirts of Crystal.

  “Persephone, can you manipulate this map into a 3D hologram?” I ask.

  “Sure, easy peasy.” She disappears momentarily. A snap and a pop later, she reappears. She swipes her hand through the air and an old-fashioned movie screen manifests. Its white screen flickers before it displays the map. She’s got what looks like a conductor’s baton in her hand.