Liam

Wednesday, May 11th, 2022 (50 days after the Shutdown)

Two weeks after moving into the warehouse, their days became quiet.

There were no more late-night visitors; there were no visitors at all.

Given their warehouse was a street away from the edge of the Industrial Complex and hidden behind two walls, no one was coming for them. Which left Liam free to do what he wanted. And being the responsible person he was, he made himself a schedule.

Each morning, he would scout the surrounding buildings, noting the building name or number and then jotting down whatever supplies it had next to it. During the times his scouting missions brought him close to the complex’s boundaries, on a separate notepad he listed the strengths and weaknesses of their defense. Based on what he’d seen so far, it was impossible to contain the entire complex.

The area around Sheffield Steel — their warehouse — was the only place with a proper wall. Everywhere else, there were holes in their defenses: chainlink fences which people could climb over, ditches and divets that wouldn’t do anything, and in some cases, there was nothing, nada, just empty space. Most of it was present at the end of the Okanagan Industrial Avenue, where the Industrial Complex merged with the city.

But those problems were half a kilometer away from the warehouse. The further out he went towards the city, the greater the likelihood that Medusas and people would catch sight of him. There was also a chance that the bikers from the mall were still on the prowl, readying a stake to put Liam’s head on. So he limited himself to exploring the southern and western parts of the Industrial Complex which were as far from the city as he could go.

Writing down the last of the points for an auto shop just off the O.I.A., he turned south toward the Laurelwood Forest.

There should’ve been something wrong with this picture. He was walking around in broad daylight with only a 5-inch knife and nothing was attacking him. Liam had learned quickly that the Medusas focused on areas of denser population which is why they didn’t have any trouble, but to have not even one drifting in the Industrial Complex was worrying. Something in the city had attracted them all.

Five minutes later, he reached the edge of the woods.

From there, it was all about following a well-trodden path. Walking along the trail of trampled vegetation, the sight around him weighed on him. When the Blackout started, bottled water had been hard enough to come by but at least it was there. When he’d been in Half-Moon Bay, the army had brought tankards of water but amongst hundreds of people, it wouldn’t last a week.

And now it didn’t even rain.

Most of the trees had lost their leaves and the animals that lived here had left or been hunted by people looking for their next meal. Everything was so dry that with one small spark, this entire place would be engulfed in flames.

Yet deeper in a small oasis sat amongst the dead foliage, which is where he found Nina, cutting up firewood in the clearing.

Leaning against a tree, he silently watched as her axe fell, sending splintered wood flying.

There was a marked difference between her disposition back at the K-Mart and her current self at Sheffield Steel. She was gradually learning to forgive herself. That’s how she explained it to Liam. All the pain she suffered, the people who’d died because of her selfishness, she was learning to let go.

There were nights when Liam could still hear her crying in the warehouse as the faces of the people she lost visited her in her sleep, but when morning came, she wiped the tears away and set out, more determined than before.

Tossing aside the split logs, Nina picked up another and laid it on the tree stump.

“Are you just going to stand there looking stupid?” she breathed, wiping a film of sweat from her brow. “Or are you here to help?”

Shouldering the axe, she raised a delicate eyebrow. Her black hair was tied back with a string and her body began to fill out again, graduating from a sack of bones to having regained some mass.

Grinning at her words, he stepped out of the shade.

“I’m here to check on you,” he replied, studying the growing pile of firewood. “Oh, and we’re running low on water so I came here to get some.”

Walking past her, he retrieved a bottle from his bag and knelt at the edge of the only water source for kilometers. A small spring gurgled cheerfully before him, clean water bubbling from depths he couldn’t see. Letting the bottle fill, he grabbed another from his bag.

“How… are your powers? Did you get them back yet?” Nina inquired, having seen them firsthand.

Liam hadn’t been able to reconnect with the source of his powers after the demon had forcefully severed the channel to protect Liam from the backlash of overusing its powers. Even if it was for his sake — which was strange because who’d ever heard of a ‘demon’ caring about another — when the time came to fight or protect, powers could turn the tides.

Remembering Rameriez and his control over fire, if there existed more people like that, powers were more a necessity than a ‘wish’.

Nina knew it as well. If they wanted to protect their new home, they needed strength.

As good as she’d become at swinging that axe, compared to the strength of the Plaza — the name of the large mall the bikers had made their base — they were insignificant. Ironically, the threat of the Medusas was the reason they were still alive.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Glancing over at Nina, he shrugged in response.

Her lips formed an “O” and she didn’t pry further.

It was embarrassing. All the power he flexed at the Tower and the Plaza and it belonged to something else. He just borrowed it. He was a fraud.

“I’m going back to the warehouse. You coming with?” she lightly asked, arranging a pile of wood on her arms. “Or are you going to… uh… meditate?”

“You already know the answer, princess. See you at dinner,” Liam grunted, handing his bag to Nina.

Watching Nina grow smaller as she walked back to the Industrial Complex, Liam marched deeper into the forest till the shadows were his only companion.

As he tried to find a way to recover his powers, at first, he thought the title the demon had given him would be a clue.

“Son of Brismoke and Tenebris.”

Having no idea what Tenebris was, he went with the first term.

“Brismoke.”

The term itself sounded like a mispronunciation of ‘brimstone’ which was another term for sulfur. There were no volcanoes nearby so he shelved that idea.

All of that led back to his second idea: the shadows.

He’d seen the demon use them extensively, incorporating them into every skill so maybe there was a clue there. Walking until the foliage above him blocked out the Sun, Liam settled in the nook of a gnarled oak tree and closed his eyes.

His ‘Sphere of Perception’ was a self-made skill, modeled after the demon’s ‘Shadow Domain’ but once the original blueprint was gone, ‘Sphere of Perception’ had practically vanished. But a skill learned through a life-or-death experience didn’t fade easily. After two weeks and hours spent trying to recreate it, Liam had been able to recover a lesser version of ‘Sphere of Perception’.

Though it only expanded a foot around him. When he sent out a pulse, there was no mental image of his surroundings. However, for the task in mind, it would be enough.

Flipping the ‘Sphere of Perception’ inwards, he could feel the functions of his body all moving in harmony. His heart compressed, sending warm blood rushing through his veins. Electrical signals from his brain shot through his nerves and vice versa. The sinew of his muscles tensed as the Sphere brushed over them, searching for a source of abnormality.

As the temperature grew colder outside, the muscles around his hair follicles contracted, causing his hair to stand upright.

Almost there.

It was a slow process because of the limitations of the severed channel, but he worked his way up from his lower body. He was reaching his navel.

“Liam,” a warbled voice called out in front of him.

Grimacing, he shut out the voice by tuning out his environment.

Around his navel, his Sphere began to falter. His concentration strained, his breathing unsteady, he could feel his meditation coming to an end.

Why?! When I’m so close!

Focusing on steadying his breaths, he returned his attention to his navel. As he began to probe each part of it, he stopped and smiled.

He found it.

More precisely, he found its approximate location. When his senses got close to the area behind his navel, they went haywire like they hit a wall. He maneuvered his senses around, trying to find a way in but it was rejecting him like it was trying to protect something. His fingers moved to that area, pressing into his flesh but there was nothing there.

The more he tried to pry behind the curtains of whatever was obstructing him, his understanding of what it was deepened.

An oblong ovoid had formed in his body, stretching from his navel to his sternum. A cradle.

So this is what you were trying to protect. The proof of our connection and the source of the channel. Huh. To create this inside me… what are you trying to do?

With his eyes still closed, he grabbed his knife and pressed it into his body.

The cradle instantly reacted, sending fire flowing through his veins to his hand. Liam instinctively dropped the knife, cussing.

The demons he’d read about in novels were twisted, malevolent creatures. When the thing in the cradle hatched, what would become of him? He was a walking bomb, fragile and ready to explode at any point.

He wondered how much he sinned in his past life to deserve such a fate.

“Liam.”

Hearing the voice again, he opened his eyes.

Moonlight drifted through the canopy, illuminating the forest floor. The time spent straining his mind and cultivating his perception paid off. The darkness no longer held the night’s secrets from him.

Ants, the size of rice grains, were marching as a column amongst the leaves of dandelions. Flicking his shoulder, he could see the individual particles of dirt flying through the air, twisting and turning in the air. Even things as ambiguous as air currents could be differentiated through the temperature he felt.

Unfortunately, the size of the sphere wasn’t to the degree of his Sphere during his escape from the Plaza, but it was more potent. If he just expanded it further…

All those thoughts were wiped away when he saw the figure floating in a stream of pale white light, breaching the forest’s ceiling.

Mom.

As clear as day, she stood in front of him, pointing to somewhere deeper in the forest.

Exercising caution as he opened his mouth, he had a hand on his knife as he studied the ghost in front of him. More began to appear, till the tree he stood by was encircled, all of them pointing in the same direction as his mother.

This… can I see them because of my Sphere? He wondered, unsure how to react to the horror film around him. No, it only extends a couple of feet around me. Where are they coming from?

Tilting her head as if listening, her face flickered and her kindly expression was wiped. A look of horror spread across her face and as she opened her mouth, tortured wails echoed out. Like wildfire, it spread across the circle until all the ghosts glared at him with twisted expressions like they wanted to kill him but he felt no malice. It was fear that drove them.

Paling at the sight of the warped ghosts, he noticed their fingers trembled as urgency took hold of them. They too began to scream.

Stumbling away from them, his eyes widened as he caught sight of his mother crying.

“Run, darling.”

She was ripped apart as Medusas swept through her.