As soon as Zeke stepped out of the hospital and back into the kitchen of his home, he called for Violet. He assumed maybe she wouldn’t be able to connect with him while inside the hospital. He dashed around the house screaming her name, zipping up and down the stairs as if he were a distraught owner searching for their puppy.
He stopped at the entryway and waited. She never came.
Zeke twisted the door handle and bolted outside, screaming her name again. He vaulted over the front gate right at the moment a car passed by, and a woman yelled, “Go back to your country, burglar!”
“This is my house!” Zeke barked back. He snarled at the moving car and sprinted down the leaf-covered sidewalk, resuming his screaming about the girl who left him unanswered all those years ago. The leaves crunched loudly under his shoes as he ran. He ducked under incoming branches, hopped over sidewalks lifted by tree roots, and zigzagged around passersby, ignoring their complaints while still calling the name of the purple-eyed young lady who was a fellow Tainted.
And that fact is what brought her back to him. Zeke was confident the same fact would lead him to her again.
He gasped for air as the cold wind continually slammed into his face, violently pushing itself into his airways. His chest squeezed tight, the back of his throat burned and ached, and his eardrums throbbed because of the booming winds.
Zeke zipped past Ritter Memorial Cemetery, and a sharp pain pierced one of his lungs or heart. He couldn’t tell. Zeke put his hand over his chest and slowed down, panting aggressively. He clenched his face shut for a moment and then released. With a war cry, Zeke sped up and screamed louder for the girl he was still hopelessly in love with. The sharp pain spread to his back, and he imagined that one of his lungs dropped onto it. His sprint started to falter as he passed a bus stop. Strangers eyeballing all around him. Zeke hunched over and was now imitating an old man’s jogging. He stopped screaming for Violet’s name and wheezed audibly. Thoughts of his ineptitude spilled into his brain.
I can’t even run long enough, for my mother’s sake?
He glanced at a couple of judgmental bystanders as he jogged at an even slower pace.
Come on. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Keep Running. How are you tired already? How are you this useless? Anybody else would have the right to rest, not you. Keep moving, keep moving.
Zeke tumbled onto the sidewalk, slamming his cheek into the concrete. He heard a woman gasp.
The rough concrete felt nice against his cheek, with the wind blowing all over him. He believed he could fall asleep there. Down on the ground is where scum belongs. It was perfect for him. The residents of Winterberry immediately identified him by a drawing because he is widely known as the Son of the Drug Demon, Adelmo Rosario. If he was from a regular family, maybe Nananiel would’ve had a harder time finding him. Running and screaming for Violet’s name didn’t make much sense, Zeke realized.
Even with all the useless geek culture he absorbed over the years and hours upon hours of studying medicine, he couldn’t figure out how to save his mother. Scum.
“Nobody call 911!” Zeke shouted. He didn’t bother looking up but saw a couple of shoes gather around him. “Just let me be.”
As if his fellow residents would care enough to call for an emergency.
“Hello? 911?” He heard a concerned woman say.
Zeke shot up to his feet and groaned. “Goddammit.” He pushed through the crowd, not bothering to let his eyes register any faces, and limped down the sidewalk.
----------------------------------------
At sunset, Zeke arrived at a public playground park. It was empty. He dragged himself over to a bench, dropped onto it, and looked up at the darkening blue sky with a golden orange tint fading at the bottom. The air became crisp, and the winds hushed as the muscles in his body were oddly relaxed. He couldn’t detect any aches anywhere. Maybe he and his brain have given up altogether.
Zeke stared at the playground deck and wondered how his life might’ve turned out if he had just decided to become a petty thief and climb the criminal career ladder. With his father’s name to back him, he’d run his own gang in no time. Succumbing to legacy might not turn out as horrendous as it seems. Isaac is doing exactly what his dad does, and he seems happy. Then, again, the life of a priest is astronomically more honorable than trafficking drugs back and forth via the border. Isaac was so lucky. So was AJ, with a family heavily involved in banking and computers; Violet’s parents were both esteemed lawyers; Ugo’s mother was a biochemist working at a respected facility in Spain, and his dad, a beloved dentist when he worked in the said country. Gerardo is gaining notability in Winterberry. He probably would’ve reached stardom status if he hadn’t decided to marry Eldora Rosario, of all people.
The swing gave out a squeak. Zeke looked down at his hands and bit his lip. Why didn’t she just move out of the state with him? Why not go to a different country? A different continent? Or take him back to Colombia, where he was born. But no, she stayed in Winterberry City, where they hate the Rosarios. At least his mother changed her name. Zeke kept his like an idiot.
The squeaking of the swing rose. Zeke looked over to the swing set, and Violet was there. She swayed back and forth in the seat, kicking her feet forward and back. He stared at her with his mouth open.
Violet dropped her feet onto the artificial grass and skidded to a halt. She smiled at him and tilted her head to the side. “Hi, Rulitos.”
Zeke stood up. She was wearing weather-appropriate long jeans this time. Her vibrant purple cardigan over her black tee was half-on, draped down her arms, showing her shoulders—Zeke was convinced that Violet didn’t know how to wear a cardigan correctly. She looked beautiful all the same. The violet-hue in her special blue eyes grew brighter as the sky grew dark. Zeke’s expression contorted in confusion momentarily, and then he smiled.
What took her so long? There must be a good reason. She was busy. Yeah, that’s right. She was busy.
“Vee. Finally, Gracias a Dios.” Zeke heaved a heavy breath. “Nananiel. He did something to my mother and…” he stopped to gander at Violet.
She crossed her legs and held his stare calmly.
“Wait, you already know all this,” Zeke pointed out. “You see and hear everything that I go through.”
“That’s right.”
“None of the books in the library say anything about what she has,” Zeke said. “Not even Ugo could find it.” He walked a few steps toward Violet. “Actually, if I were being completely honest… I don’t even know where to look. I don’t know what she has.”
Violet stared back with a stony expression. “So…”
“I need your help, Vee.”
Violet got off the swing and stood in silence. Zeke backed up and studied her. It felt like months, standing there in silence with her. Then she yawned and scratched the side of her head. “No.”
Zeke’s face went blank. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
Violet curled her lip and looked off to the side. “I’m pretty sure that the word in Spanish has the same meaning and is pronounced nearly the same way, so I don’t know how I can make it any clearer for you.”
“Violet!”
Violet gave him a lazy look. “Ezequias, I changed my mind. I can’t keep saving you from perilous situations. It’s time you learned to fend off supernatural forces on your own. If you can’t get through this alone, you would never make it as a Healer, anyway.”
Zeke grunted. “Okay, I am a wimp. A passive, cowardly loser. I get it. But now is not the time to be teaching me lessons about life. My mom is dying!”
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“Yeah. You should really speed up the curing process.”
Zeke’s face scrunched in confusion.
“She won’t stop laughing and is slowly turning into stone. I don’t know what that is a symptom of!” Zeke cried. “I don’t know what she has. I don’t know how to cure it. But you could probably figure it out.”
“You’re right, Rulitos. I could fix it. But I won’t.”
Zeke’s confused look twisted into a scowl. “Do you have something against my mother or something?”
Violet put her hand over her chest and put on a dumb look. “Me?” She snickered and lowered her hand. “I admire Eldora. She’s a strong Latina woman. It’s a shame for her to be taken down by an angel of all things.”
“Then help me!” Zeke pleaded.
“No,” Violet said sternly. “You’re on your own.”
Zeke became still and analyzed every detail of the sincerity on Violet’s face. She was adamant about not helping. He nodded in defeat. “Okay.” He turned around and walked.
“That’s it?” Violet said.
Zeke stopped but didn’t turn back. “What more do you want me to do? You refused to help save my mother’s life….”
“Exactly.” Violet hissed. “Here I am, blatantly telling you I can find a cure but refuse to, and that’s all the fight you put into it?”
Zeke turned back. “I asked, and you said ‘no.’” He raised his arms. “What more do you want me to do?”
Violet folded her arms and stared at him with a grimace. “Even that I have to map out for you?” She tapped her head with one finger. “Rulitos, you have a massive brain. I don’t need to tell you what you need to do.”
Zeke stared pathetically at Violet, awaiting instructions.
Violet groaned. “Fight me for it!”
“What?”
Violet stomped up to Zeke and grabbed him by the collar. “Force me to save your mother. This is your mother! How are you just going to give up like that?” She shoved him back. Zeke plopped onto the grass on his back, prickling his palms.
He stood up silently and gave Violet a mean look. She smiled.
“Hit me,” Violet said.
Zeke turned around and walked.
“What are you going to do, Rulitos?” Violet shouted. “Will you cry and wait for a miracle to happen?”
Zeke barricaded himself against the jeers with silence and just walked, increasing the distance between them. Violet’s voice dissipated, and for a moment, all he could hear was the gentle wind, and then he heard metallic clicking.
He halted, and an eerie flash sound arose. From the peripherals of the park, a transparent black wall of energy lifted from beneath the play grass and curved halfway to the sky. Zeek peered up and saw the dome close.
Bang.
After the abrupt, explosive sound, he lost control of his body and fell forward. He sensed a hot metal fist into the back of his shoulder. Zeke hit the pavement on his face, and a scalding sensation grew on his shoulder blade, intensifying by the second like hot coffee poured into a fresh open wound. Once he regained movement, he squirmed and groaned until he could no longer hold it in.
An agonized scream broke out of him. The scorching sensation invaded his whole back. He screamed continually until it lowered to a pathetic sob. He turned back, and Violet was walking up to him with a blood-red, otherworldly flintlock in her hand.
She aimed the gun at his leg and fired a flaming bullet into the back of his calf. Zeke cried in pain. It was like getting impaled with a red-hot spear.
“Neurpatia,” she cited. Her hooded cloak materialized and enveloped her. She kneeled to him and outstretched her hand. It made a glow and then touched Zeke.
An overwhelming surge of energy traveled through Zeke’s innards, and then he heard two pops. The pain was gone. Better than that. He was rejuvenated! Zeke turned over on his back and spotted the two dying red bullets on the ground. Their tiny mouths were opening and closing.
“How did that feel?” Violet asked.
“Probably the worst pain I’ve ever experienced.”
“I see.” Violet pointed the gun at his chest and fired.
Zeke blasted back to the grass and screamed until bursts of blood shot out of his mouth. Violet held out her hand and healed him again. An odd feeling of relief washed over Zeke.
“Violet, what are you—?”
“Fight,” interrupted Violet. She pointed the hellish gun at his face.
Zeke rolled out of the way, and Violet fired.
He grabbed onto a jungle gym bar and pulled himself up. “Violet, stop!”
She kept the gun pointed at him. “You’re fighting for it, dammit.”
She squeezed the trigger, sending another bullet his way. He spun, and the shot bounced off a beam. Zeke noticed she delayed on purpose. A gazelle playing with her food.
“You can use magic,” Zeke said. This isn’t fair.”
He ran for the slide and tripped on his way. He turned over and got up on one knee, looking back at Violet.
Violet approached him as she caressed her gun’s molten rock-covered barrel. “You, of all people, know that nothing in life is fair. Is it fair that you were born into a family filled with criminals? Is it fair that you happened to be a part of the Tainted Generation? To have your mother cursed by an angel after you saved one of their own? Is any of that fair?” She tightened her grip on the gun. “Stop complaining about what is fair and what isn’t. Just work your way through adversity and come out on top. If you need magic to get an advantage, then use magic!”
“I don’t know how to!”
“Then figure it out. Now.” Violet squeezed the trigger again. Zeke jumped out of the way, and a bullet flew past him. “Or you’ll die. Right here. Right now.”
Zeke got up and scanned his surroundings, thinking of escape.
Violet read him like a book. “I am not going to let you run, Rulitos.” She threw the gun at his face, and it bounced off his nose.
Zeke put his hand over his throbbing nose and hunched over. He hissed at the pain, and then a rising boot came into his view. It connected with his eye. He shot back and then took another blow to the gut., feeling his stomach fold in on itself. He stood straight for a moment, and Violet struck him with an unforgiving fist.
The world flashed black.
Zeke tried to secure his footing as his vision slowly unblurred. Violet came into focus. She was in a basic fighting stance. With her fists raised in front of her, she glared at Zeke, her magnetic eyes now becoming something terrifying.
Violet touched the neck of her cloak. “Return,” she said, and the apparel vanished. “Magic is too much of a disadvantage for you, even though you can use it, okay, whatever. We’ll fight like this then.”
Zeke’s eye swelled and throbbed. The area around his eye became itchy like a colony of ants crawling beneath the skin in a rotating formation. He looked down at the magma-like gun. “I thought Voramatias only attacked things with high levels of purity.”
“Voramatias attack things with the highest purity level in the area, Rulitos. At least you got the name right,” Violet said. “Your soul has high levels of purity, much higher than mine.”
“Because I don’t use Black Magic, right?”
“Well… not only because of that.”
He raised his brows, and his bruised eye twitched stubbornly.
Violet gave him a smug look. “Purity that comes from the lack of… experience in certain activities.” She giggled. “Activities related to… pleasure… gratification.”
Zeke’s face was burning. He couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or humiliation. He wanted to die at that moment either way.
“It’s okay, Rulitos. I’m just teasing,” Violet said. “I don’t care.” She pointed at the gun on the grass and explained, “That is another piece of Netherworld Weaponry, yes. They do shoot out Demon Bullets, yes, but of the Fire Demon variety, not to be confused with the Hellfire Demon variety. Ignismorrah is what they’re called.”
“So, you go to Hell to shop, Vee?”
“No, I can’t go to Hell regularly and risk becoming a demon. Come on, Rulitos,” Violet said. “I have connections who buy the parts for me, and I apply the necessary adjustments myself, making it my own.”
Zeke glanced up at the black barrier, veiling over them. “I’m guessing that barrier doesn’t let me run away or let anybody on the outside see or hear anything that is going on here.”
“Your second theory is correct,” Violet said. “As long as nobody walks past the barrier. We’re good to hurt each other without any troublesome interventions.” She kicked the gun away. “But enough about that. Let’s fight.”
“Violet, I can’t—”
Zeke took a vicious strike to the lip and staggered. He balanced himself again.
“I was surrounded by frail, pretty girls all day long in that stupid school for three years. They flinched at just hearing the door close just a little loud, for crying out,” Violet said. “You go to a public school surrounded by assholes. How do I know how to fight better than you? What have you been doing all these years, Rulitos?”
“Vee…”
“Have you not been in at least one fight while I was gone?”
“For your information, yeah, I have,” Zeke said. “There’s a new guy named Raylan, baseball star, with an entire entourage of jerks. I fought them all because they were being jerks to AJ.”
Violet snickered. “Good for you.” She threw another punch, and it connected with Zeke’s jaw. “Now show me what you got.”