Storm Chaser: A Novel of The Black Pages

by Danny Bell

  Finally after what felt like hours, all traces of the curse were lifted from the coin and into the new object. That object was a nonfunctional, purple Furby someone’s kid had left in the store a few days ago. I had no idea who brought it or where someone would get one or why. I honestly hadn’t seen one since middle school until just the other day. It felt like such a strange bit of nostalgia, seeing a bit of the past appear out of nowhere.

  Now, I had to set Furby on fire. I hate it here.

  I’d spent the better part of an hour on the ritual, and it would be a few minutes before I could safely move the mecha-demon, so I slumped into a reading seat staring down at the mess I’d made. Cleaning would be a good use of my time while I waited but, good grief, was I beat. I’d been up all night, used my power gloves, removed a curse, and…

  * * *

  “Wake up.” The annoyed voice came in time with a kick to my leg that bordered on a punt.

  “I’m up,” I slurred, trying and failing to pretend it was the truth.

  Claire looked around the shop with quiet anger. When you know someone like I know Claire, you didn’t need them to speak to know how mad they are.

  “You didn’t touch nothing, did you?” I asked sleepily.

  “I make it a point to touch as few magic things as I can,” she said, stepping behind the counter. “Speaking of—what did we agree about magic things in the shop?”

  “Loft or backroom only,” I replied standing up.

  “So why is there graffiti in the middle of the store? And why is the smoke detector taken apart?”

  “Hadda remove a curse.” I yawned, rubbing at my eyes. “What time is it?”

  “We open in an hour, are you going to clean this up?”

  “After I burn Furby,” I said, scooping up the toy and shaking the bucket water off the coin, before slipping it in my pocket.

  “What?”

  “Furby is all kinds of cursed. Have you seen the matches? I just had them. Have to use real fire to burn a curse, can’t be magic fire.”

  “You’re not burning that here,” she said impatiently. “It’s going to smell awful and, if you haven’t noticed, you’re surrounded by books.”

  “I’ll do it out back, but it has to be done. It’s that or we have a cursed Furby around the store all day,” I said, holding up the creepy-eyed doll to accentuate my point.

  Claire sighed. “Just hurry up and get back here. You’re becoming a lot lately, you know that?”

  Oh, I know. I’m the height of too-muchery.

  I took her meaning and got started right away, grabbing lighter fluid and a book of matches from a drawer, not wasting time. Behind the shop, the Furby burned like a super messed up effigy, but I assure you, I hold no ill will towards the Furby community. Claire was right, though, polyester smelled awful when it burned, the electronics smelled worse, and in a bone-chilling moment the Furby laughed at me and said it was very happy, even though I’d been certain I’d removed the batteries. But hey, the curse was gone.

  Claire was busy at work with all the day’s tasks when I walked back in. “Really sorry about that, but I have this super old coin if you want to try and eBay it or something. Definitely not cursed anymore.”

  I tossed the coin in the air towards Claire, who caught it, gave it a puzzled look, and looked back at me. “How much do I want to know?”

  “Honestly, that’s kind of a loaded question.” I sighed, moving to clean up my mess. “I’m on about four hours sleep, and my brain isn’t fully working yet after the night I’ve had. What are you doing here, by the way?”

  “It’s my day to open. You closed last night,” she replied. “And you passed out in the middle of the store doing magic stuff?”

  Huh. I really thought I was supposed to open. Shows where my brain has been. “Yeah, so, about all that, I know I’m not supposed to keep stuff from you anymore, but also, if I tell you, I think I’m technically involving you, but, also, if I think you definitely need to hear everything, but also—”

  Claire snapped her fingers in quick succession. “Elana. Focus. We open in forty minutes, just say it.”

  I told her. All of it. My errand for Freyja, how badly that went, the terms of it, and how her shop was safe, and even the bit about Kate and the cursed coin.

  “You get why I think you might be in over your head, right?” Claire asked, barely holding the frustration back in her voice. “God, I love you, but look at you. You tried to rob a Japanese diplomat? Am I hearing that right?”

  “The whole damned embassy.” I sighed. “I’m actually not sure where it was all supposed to go, but yeah, robbery was involved.”

  “You know, I really try to be understanding when it’s shit coming after you, but this? How is this not all on you?”

  “Come on, that’s not fair!” I exclaimed. “I made a deal for our friend’s life. All of this is wrapped up in that, and it’s a deal with someone who has their own afterlife and a jet! How am I supposed to mess with someone who has either one of those things?”

  Claire didn’t answer me right away. She started the coffee and busied herself with mindless tasks for a moment before stopping abruptly. “It took me a while to stop having nightmares about Bres. About those goblins that just sort of appeared in my store. You de-cursed an ancient coin in the middle of my shop, and I’m not giving it a second thought. We have a Tolkien-esque elf as one of our crew. I’m in a book club with her, she even picked this month’s book.”

  “For real?” I perked up. “What did she pick?”

  “No Cage for a Crow by M.R. Graham.”

  “Yeah?” I asked, simultaneously excited by Chalsarda’s reading and my hurt at not being included in the book club. “How is it?”

  “Pretty good. Sherlock has a sister who also solves crimes, but that’s off-topic,” she said hurriedly. “I’m saying that I am begrudgingly coming to terms with the fact that you very seriously made a deal with a very real Norse goddess. And I’m not sure if the fact that Olivia isn’t a blubbering mess every day is supposed to be hopeful because it means that Logan is really coming back or if it’s supposed to be worrying because it means you’re both delusional about the welfare of our friend and yourselves. I can’t say, I wasn’t there.”

  Claire took another second and stared at her hands on the countertop. “I’m just wondering, how far is too far? What task are you given where you say no? When what is asked of you to save one person puts the lives of everyone else at risk, do you still do it?”

  I conceded the point and involuntarily shrugged. “You’re right. You’re probably right, I don’t know. What I do know is that these kinds of questions are a whole lot easier to answer when I’m cleaning chalk off the floor than when I’m faced with them in the moment. Freyja is probably taking advantage of me, granted. She knows I’ll do anything to save my friends, whether it’s you or Logan or just that guy at the Del Taco drive-thru who always had a dad joke for me. I’d honestly take a bullet for that guy, and I cannot tell you with certainty what his name is. I can’t change what happened, I can only focus on—”

  A roar that sounded like the world was hellbent on tearing itself apart rocked the store. The windows shook, and my voice caught in my throat. Claire looked at me as if she had a heart attack. It took me a moment to realize what this was: Thunder.

  A second thunderclap followed a few heartbeats later, less intrusive but stomach-churning all the same. “No, no way, no, no, no, it’s way too soon,” I muttered running outside and looking up at the darkening sky.

  Claire was right behind me, similarly looking up in disbelief at the mass of clouds that made up what was quickly becoming a void swallowing what should’ve been a clear summer’s morning sky. “That’s impossible. There wasn’t a cloud in sight just an hour ago,” she breathed.

  “Not impossible,” I said softly. “Susano-o is gathering his storm. That maniac is going to flood the city.”

  Chapter Ten

  The two of us stood in front of the sto
re, staring dumbly at the vast, blackened sky, and we weren’t alone. Cars pulled over, other people stepped outside of nearby shops, everyone stunned at the suddenly blackened sky. For my part, I was in awe at what a god could do on such short notice. This wasn’t even his full wrath, just thunder and some clouds, and it still looked like it could swallow us whole.

  “Elana, this is…biblical,” Claire said shakily.

  “Technically, I think it’s Shinto,” I replied absently.

  “Why would he do this?”

  “I thought we covered that. I tried to steal a plate,” I replied, still looking up. “But it’s not so bad, right? Clouds stopped moving, the thunder stopped, no wind —that’s something. I’m sure if you look hard enough, you’ll find the biggest silver lining of all time.”

  “That is so…what do we even do about this?” I could hear the uncertainty creep into her voice.

  I took a breath and nudged my friend with my elbow to get her to look at me. “Okay, you’re involved, so…you’re involved. So, okay, we focus. The storm can’t start until, like, the middle of the night, and even then, Freyja said she had protections over the city. It should take a while before the rain becomes any kind of real problem.” I left out the part about how casting magic in the rain was going to be a massive issue for me and that the longer this dragged out, the more helpless I’d be. I imagined she already had her fair share of stress at the moment.

  My friend didn’t say anything, didn’t move, so I swallowed hard and tried to sound as certain as I could manage. “We are safe until my twenty-four hours are up.”

  Claire nodded, maybe a bit relieved, maybe not. “So, what do we do in the meantime?”

  “Give me the keys to the van,” I said, running through a checklist in my mind as I ran back into the store. “And a credit card. I can head to Home Depot and get the anti-flooding stuff before everyone else gets the same idea. No one is going to touch you or any of us until the clock starts, but once it does, your store is the only neutral territory there is, so you’ll be stuck here. If there’s anything you have to do, now’s the time.”

  “I assume that if The Book’s End is the only safe place, I’ll need more water, food—”

  “I got all that. Costco, whatever you need,” I interrupted. “You get the cats inside and figure out the rest of your day. Shit! Do you have that portable battery pack? My phone is dead, and I’m going to need it.”

  “Yeah, it should be in the back room. I can find it.” She nodded, walking past me. “Jesus, Elana, what is your life turning into?”

  “I honestly don’t know how funny I’m allowed to be right now, so you get the thing and I’ll do my stuff. Things and stuff.”

  I hastily cleaned up the remains of my ritual circle despite Claire’s weak protests and gathered everything I might need, shoving it into my bookbag. Almost as an afterthought, I took off my wool cap from the night before and teased my hair out, realizing suddenly how itchy it had made my scalp. After a small gift to myself of five minutes in the bathroom to take the minimum care of my hygiene, I stole a muffin from the back counter without stopping and made an incoherent goodbye to Claire, nearly falling out the backdoor as I did.

  Everything on the street was a chaotic mess as I climbed into the van. I held the bran muffin steady with my precision biting skills, cursing its bran-ness against my freshly brushed teeth, as I fumbled with shoving my phone’s car charger into its port. From there, it was a matter of navigating the van and its lack of power steering out on the street. What should have looked like a sunny summer morning looked ominously like moonless midnight. Without the streetlights illuminating the city, the atmosphere felt oppressive. Headlights and the insides of local businesses would be all we had until the power company managed to override the timers on the streetlamps.

  Before I was able to think about contacting anyone, a call came in from Olivia. I needed to get in touch with her anyway, so this was welcome. “Hey, aren’t you still on set?” I asked, turning on the speakerphone and setting the phone in the cupholder.

  “Well, our day was shot when the goddamn sun disappeared,” she replied. “I’m almost too afraid to ask this, but does this sign of the end times have anything to do with you?”

  “I mean, yeah, more or less. It’s pretty bad.”

  “Didn’t you have a code word for this sort of situation?” Olivia asked. “What was it again?”

  “Obstritch-grill…obsta-gill…”

  “Did you just say, ‘Ostrich Grill’?” My friend was teasing me.

  “Yeah, I learn most of my words by reading them, not saying them,” I protested. “Look, this is serious, like, get everyone indoors, serious. I was about to call you, so do me a favor and get everyone to the shop.”

  “Wait, I was kidding before,” Olivia started. “You’re seriously involved with… What the hell happened last night?”

  “I’ll get into it later. For now, I’ll feel a lot better if I know you’ve gathered the crew while I’m out and about.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Olivia answered, suddenly somber. “What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing too exciting, just errands. This is the calm before the, well, you know. Meet up with me out on the road when we’re done if you like. Oh, and don’t tell them anything that’ll make them worry.”

  “What could I even tell them?” she asked. “You haven’t told me anything.”

  “See? We’re doing great already, just look at this teamwork. Gotta go.”

  I hung up the phone before I could say anything potentially worrisome. I mean, it was bad, sure, but the Orochi and the storm and the rest of it were still hours away, so the less worried I might sound, the less everyone else might freak out.

  The radio station Claire last listened to had contacted a climate scientist from USC, talking about a catastrophic flood in 1862, and that a storm of this size wasn’t expected for another thousand years, but that climate change made everything possible. Climate change, the scientist insisted, that greedy, right-wing, corporate interests had done everything they could to discredit and that everyone else was now paying for. When pressed about how a storm cloud of that size, one that stretched dozens of miles, could gather this quickly, there was an uncomfortable pause before the scientist admitted they just didn’t know. They continued that if as much rain as the cloud seemed to hold were to fall for a period of several weeks, that our dams could overflow and displace hundreds of thousands of people. The only bright spot, if not a curious one for the scientist, was that no one had reported any kind of rainfall anywhere in the county.

  I couldn’t help feeling some sick relief at the thought that the rain wouldn’t last that long because I’d either be victorious or dead by the end of the week. While climate change is one thousand percent a very real thing, this was a magical problem, not a man made one. That didn’t excuse anyone, though; the scientist was right. If the government took climate change seriously and hadn’t been influenced by oil lobbyists all these years, they might’ve adapted and, maybe, been better prepared for something like this. Though I couldn’t really blame them for not preparing for a red-headed dummy to piss off a storm god, that one was on me.

  Still, this all put me in a bind. At some point, I was going to have to make the hard choice between recovering the plate and fighting a snake monster or surrendering for the good of the city.

  That was a problem for future Elana and the rest of the city for that matter. That, and a lot of other problems that mattered. Mass exodus because of evacuations, ruined homes, and I didn’t want to think about what the homeless on Skid Row were going to do. What would be my breaking point?

  The Home Depot parking lot was already packed, and the number of trucks made me think that contractors and DIY homeowners had the same idea that I had. Waste of time here, maybe. I found a spot, but the immediacy with which every other parking spot was filled gave me the impression that there would be a run on anything useful. By the time I’d made it inside, pallets of
pre-filled bags of sand and gravel were already being loaded outside by way of shrieking forklifts. My options were either unfilled poly woven bags, whatever that was, or quick fill insta-dam bags that reacted with the water. Either way, there weren’t many of either and I was lucky to get the single pack of bags that I got my hands on. Fifty empty bags rated for fifty pounds each. I hardly needed the van for this, and I somehow doubted it would be enough. A middle-aged man in line behind me eagerly gave me a business card saying he could fill my bags cheap. From his eagerness, I doubted the cheap part, but I took the card anyway and agreed to swing by his work site later.

  An hour later, I was finally back in the van and faced with madness at the Costco. It looked like Christmas in July in the parking lot, and not in a good way. Not only was every space filled, but there was also a line of cars out into the street. I made the last-second decision to turn around and head to a grocery store. It wouldn’t be a ghost town by any stretch, but I’d at least be able to walk in, and every second today counted.

  My phone buzzed as I walked toward the Vons. It was Olivia. It took me a moment to unravel the phone from the battery pack that was still charging it. “School’s out all over,” she said as soon as I answered. “How’re things on your end?”

  “It’s like last minute Thanksgiving at the grocery store. Not as bad as it could be, no panic riots so I’m not complaining. Not about the crowd at least.”