“You should see some of these videos!” Moira exclaimed as they walked along. Now that her phone was fully charged, she was back to scrolling through social media to see all the crazy things people recorded. She showed Jeremy a few of them. He could now add tiny pixie-like flower fairies and sentient talking snakes to the list of strange creatures that currently existed in the world. People were also getting more creative with their spellcasting. Someone had figured out a way to use magic to do the dishes. There were also several videos from people in disaster zones, recording the evacuations. And from people who were at protests all around the country, recording police and National Guard members in riot gear.
Jeremy shook his head, “You can’t even get a response to a car accident anymore, and they are out there holding the line against protests.”
“People are freaking out.” Moira said, “There are all these press conferences about how magic is dangerous, and people shouldn’t use it until we know more, but then there are interview panels with generals talking about experimenting with offensive magic as an alternative to nuclear weapons.”
“Is nuking the gate even going to work?” Jeremy wondered aloud, “I mean, we are dealing with magic here.”
“Sure, but I mean, goblins can die, right?” Moira pointed out, “You killed one by smashing its head in. The army is gunning down hundreds of them. They seem to be biological creatures like us, so they should be affected by radiation just like us.”
Jeremy thought back to the goblin and how it seemed to have similar anatomy to a human. He supposed that was true. Moira tucked her phone away.
“It seems like whether or not it is okay to use magic is turning into the newest bipartisan issue.” She said, “There’s a bunch of people in both camps.”
“What on earth do the people who think we shouldn’t use magic want us to do?”
“Dunno,” Moira shrugged, “Pray the goblins away. Stock up on ammo. I bet that’s impossible to get already.”
“Yeah.” Jeremy stopped and looked around.
“What? Are you lost?” Moira asked.
They were still in a neighborhood of single-family homes. A couple of blocks away were larger apartment buildings. He could see his own apartment building. What made him stop was the noise. Horns blared in the distance, and shouts rose above the houses. It was deafening after yesterday’s silent streets.
“Don’t you hear that?” He asked.
Moira tilted her head, then made a face at him, “I do, but let’s not get sidetracked. We need to get your cat so that we can go get my boyfriend.”
“It sounds like it is between us and the apartment,” Jeremy told her, which got him a drawn-out frustrated groan. “Maybe not. Let’s keep going and see.”
It was between them and the apartment. The police had several blocks portioned off and were trying to control a crowd of protestors. It looked like the entire university and surrounding neighborhoods had turned out to block the three-lane main road that ran through this part of town. Cars backed up on either side of the mess.
“Of course.” Moira looked dejected.
People yelled chants into megaphones. The police stood in their riot gear, looking menacing. People hung out of their cars and screamed at the protesters. It must be one of the few ways to get downtown now that the military blocked off the highways and accidents and prowling dragons blocked the side roads. The protesters yelled back that the military should stop blocking off the highway. The National Guard members standing nearby did not comment.
“Let’s avoid that,” Jeremy said.
Not going in a straight shot to his apartment took him past many of the places that he had become familiar with in the past year he’d lived here. The shelves of the convenience store where he went to buy cup noodles at one in the morning were empty. The Chinese place with the best fried rice was dark. The coffee shop on the corner was open, however. They had a folding table set up in front of their doors and were handing out free coffees. It was not their usual fare of specialty lattes and vanilla cremes, just coffee with cream or sugar upon request. They stopped for a cup.
A few other residents from his apartment building stood on the sidewalk smoking. They nodded at each other in recognition as he passed. In the fenced-in dog park across the street, someone watched their dogs rough house in the grass. Despite everything, in some ways, life trudged on. After all the strangeness, the sense of normalcy was a desperate relief.
Jeremy did not bother with the elevator. He banged into the stairwell and started to take the stairs two at a time, drawn to hurry now that he was so close to home. His hip ached as he climbed, and Moira huffed and puffed behind him, but he could not slow down. Then he stopped in front of the door.
It was only a studio apartment. He couldn’t afford anything more without a roommate, even with two jobs. But it had been home for the past year, the place where he had rebuilt his life and created a space where he was in control of everything he could be. He would not want a roommate anyway. He hesitated to open the door because if he did and let all this craziness into his safe space, it would mean it was real. Until now, everything had seemed surreal. Real while happening, but not when looked at objectively after. If he stepped into his apartment with a bag of dragon scales and Moira beside him, it felt like crossing a barrier he could not uncross.
“Isn’t your cat waiting?” Moira said dryly.
“Yeah.” He reached for the doorknob and then froze. His keys were still on the keyring, dangling from the ignition of his ruined car. Shit.
“What?” Moira peered around him to see why he stopped.
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“I don’t have my keys.”
“Maybe it’s unlocked?”
That was impossible. Jeremy always locked his apartment. Just like he always locked his car. He did not even have to double-check when the intrusive thoughts tried to convince him that he had forgotten to lock the door because he was so certain that he had every single time. Everything else was flipped on its head, though, so he tried the doorknob. It opened.
“See,” Moira pushed him lightly through the door. Jeremy let her. He was in shock. More than anything else over the past two days, this floored him. There was absolutely no way that he forgot to lock his door. Then, Atticus did not immediately come running and crying about how she’d been left alone without food for so long, and Jeremy knew something was wrong.
His apartment was just one room, the bed shoved into one corner opposite the small kitchenette. A free-standing closet stood along one wall, along with a bookshelf. There was a door to the small bathroom and a single window on one wall.
“Oh hey!”
Jeremy’s desk chair spun out from behind the corner of the wall where he tucked his desk, carrying a gangly young man with a pencil hanging out of his mouth. He grabbed the pencil and pointed it at Jeremy with menace.
“I’ve been trying to call you for days, and you won’t pick up.” He announced, “I was worried sick. I know how much you hate talking on the phone, but you could have at least texted me back.”
“My phone is trashed.” Jeremy tossed the bag aside and shut the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, you were out at that party covering for me when the world imploded, and then you wouldn’t answer your phone, so I came by to see if you made it home. And Atticus needed someone to keep her company.”
Atticus finally made an appearance in all haughty, black wonder, clawing her way out from beneath Jeremy’s bed. She stretched and meandered over to rub against Jeremy’s ankle.
“Who is that?” the man asked.
“Caleb, this is Moira.” Jeremy bent down to scoop Atticus into his arms, “Moira, this is Caleb.”
“Hey!” Caleb waved. Moira ignored him and turned to face Jeremy with her hands on her hips. He lifted Atticus to hide behind her and peered at Moira over her fluff. She did not look impressed.
“So all this time, we have been rushing to your cat instead of my boyfriend when she was being fed and kept company by a friend of yours?” Her voice wound up a few octaves. Jeremy winced, “We could have gotten Derek first!”
“I didn’t know.” Jeremy resorted to shoving Atticus into her arms as a distraction. “We’ll go find him right away. Why don’t you sit down while I gather some stuff up.”
Caleb watched the interaction while twirling the pencil around his fingers, “How did you two meet?”
“I don’t even know how to begin explaining that.” Jeremy rifled around in the bottom of his standing closet for Atticus’s carry backpack. Moira stroked Atticus’s head and went to sit on the old couch. A few spots had turned into scratching posts, and it was covered in cat hair. It did tend to eat whoever sat in it since some of the springs toward the back were broken. Aside from that, it was a pretty good couch. Moira’s face as she sank into it betrayed her disagreement with that sentiment. Caleb laughed at her.
“Don’t sit there.” He advised while hanging over the arm of the desk chair. Jeremy glanced over his shoulder. Moira sat on the right of the couch, the side next to where Jeremy managed to jam a table between the couch arm and the wall. It was the only side of the couch where you could set a drink down within reaching distance, so Jeremy claimed it for himself and never allowed anyone else to sit in it.
“That’s my spot.” Jeremy told Moira, “Please move.”
“You aren’t using it.” She stroked Atticus’s head.
“I’d listen to him.” Caleb warned, “He once shanked a guy in prison for sitting in his spot in the dining hall.”
“What?” Moira made a bewildered face and turned to Jeremy for an explanation. He tossed a small blanket over his shoulder toward the cat backpack and kept rifling around for Atticus’s leash and harness. When he could not find it, he started piling socks into his arms in the meantime.
“Just ignore him,” he said, “But please move. This is my house and my sofa. Show it a little respect.” He piled another pair of socks in his arms and then went over to stand over Moira. She opened her mouth to protest, so he barreled on, “And I’ve been escorting you into the city, killing that goblin instead of leaving you behind. You only have to run faster than the person you are with, you know. I think it’s only fair that you respect my spot.”
Moira stared up at him indignantly, “What, you don’t think I could have made it this far myself?”
“I have no doubt you could, but I like to think we helped each other out.” He held out the clothes like he was going to dump them on her head, “If you’d rather strike out on your own from here, I’m not going to stop you. But if you still want me to go with you to get Derek, then move out of my spot so I can pack.”
Moira grumbled but scooted over on the couch. Jeremy dumped the clothes on the cushion. Caleb leaned over and patted Atticus on the head. To Moira, he said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m his best friend, and even I can’t sit there. Now, come on, how did you meet?”
“He was working for the caterer at my party.” Moira said, “I needed a ride into the city to find my boyfriend, and he offered to give me one.”
That was a gross oversimplification, but Jeremy would get around to telling Caleb all the details later. Right now, he was more focused on going through his kitchen to pull down light foods like more granola bars and trail mix to pack.
“Wait, does that mean you are one of the Feldman’s?” Caleb whistled and raised his eyebrows at Jeremy, who responded by chucking a bag of popcorn at his face.
“How did your date go the other night?” He asked.
Caleb popped the bag open and started munching, “It went fine. She’s looking for something casual so we decided not to see each other again. Hooked up, though. It was the strangest morning after I’ve ever had, what with the dragons and goblins and whatnot.”
Jeremy bowed his head in defeat. He’d taken Caleb’s shift with his uncle, nearly been sacrificed to an old god, and had to fight his way back home, all so Caleb could hook up with a girl and decide not to see her again.
“I thought you said you guys were soulmates or whatever.” He tossed a bag of cat treats onto his pile of stuff to take along.
“Not meant to be.” Caleb sighed. He offered the bag of popcorn to Moira, but she just rolled her eyes. Atticus had curled up happily on her lap. Jeremy grumbled as he pawed through his dresser to start backing a bag of clothes. Caleb glanced over the piles of clothes and food.
“Did you manage to get your car here?” He asked, “I thought the streets were pretty much impassable.”
“They are.” Jeremy grabbed his hiking boots and set them beside his pile of clothes. Now, he just had to find his duffle bag. “Caleb, can you look under my bed for my duffle bag?”
He pushed through the door to the bathroom as Caleb swept his long, black hair up into a bun so it wouldn’t drag across the floor as he bent over. Jeremy flipped the bathroom lights on and sighed at his appearance. He had not taken the time to worry about that when they were at Abel’s house, but now that he was in his bathroom, he couldn’t help but notice how different he looked from normal.
He was ordinarily clean-shaven, and his hair was usually styled with a little product to sweep it back out of his face. Now, stubble prickled across his face and neck. His hair was dark with grease and sweat, hanging limply over his eyes. He needed to get it cut. He scratched his cheek.
“Hey Moira,” He poked his head out into the main room. Moira looked over from where Caleb was reaching under the bed, “I know we are in a hurry, but I think it’s a good idea for us to shower real quick and eat something.”
“I think that is a wonderful idea,” Caleb shouted from under the bed, “You both stink.”
Jeremy stepped over to the fridge and peered into the freezer, “I’ve got a frozen pizza we can throw into the oven.”
Moira stroked Atticus a few times, then deflated, “Yeah, I’d really like a shower.”
Jeremy nodded and pre-heated the oven.