I headed in no particular direction. Actually that was a lie. I was driving to Charice’s house and I knew it deep in my subconscious. I was really sick of people telling me things that I didn’t want to hear. But I was also fed up with Charice only using vague replies to return my texts and phone calls.
My Mustang blew down Redwood Street. After crossing several main intersections I turned left on Broadway heading up towards North Vallejo where she lived. Broadway was a four-lane street with the train track running parallel to it, the same train tracks I had driven down a few weeks ago when chasing the Sluagh, just way South in the opposite direction at the other end of town, back when it was just me, Rob, and Tain.
Things were a lot simpler when Gavin wasn’t around. What was that guy’s problem? Part of me had naïvely thought that having him here and in the know would be great. I mean, the guy also had powers. We could fight crime side-by-side as brothers, like Leonardo and Raphael.
A small detail eluded my memory. I couldn’t put my finger on it. There was something I was forgetting to do. The nagging thought would have to wait though. A single headlight popped up in my rearview mirror and the familiar roar of a motorcycle engine blared in my ears. “Come on,” I groaned.
I slowed down as we pulled up to a red light. Gavin pulled up next to me on his ‘10 Triumph 1000cc. Rob sat behind, holding Gavin’s waist because he was too short to reach his shoulders. It would have been comical if I weren’t so pissed off. Gavin flipped open his visor. “Pull over Sean.”
Gavin saw me grab all my gear and assumed I was going out to get into trouble again. In reality I grabbed my stuff because I knew from experience, it’s better to be prepared and not need your tools than to need tools and not be prepared. But I didn’t explain any of that to him.
“Don’t tell me what to do!” I revved the engine and peeled out as the light turned green.
My brother kept up with me easily on the Triumph. He rode parallel with me for a time making hand motions for me to pull over. In response I rolled the windows down all the way and started blasting Dichotomy, looking straight ahead letting the speedometer climb as the guitars squealed and chugged. Then he cut in my lane and threw his brakes on. I swerved in the left lane and passed him up, the engine roaring and the smell of my ‘Stang burning gasoline reached my nostrils, thrilling me.
We approached another intersection, the light turning yellow. We both gunned it, almost running a red light. After getting through the intersection we both slowed down instinctively, knowing that we were tempting Vallejo PD to pull us over.
Gavin yelled into the wind through his open visor. “I’m not going to let you kill yourself, Sean.”
“Yeah, boss,” chimed Rob. “Come back home!”
“I’m going to see my girlfriend, so the jokes on you, idiots,” I yelled over blast beat drum fills.
But with his helmet on, my music blasting, and the roar of the engine, I don’t think Gavin or Rob heard exactly what I said beyond idiots.
He got into the left lane and tried to cut me off again. I switched to the right lane and realized we had passed Kaiser Permanente and were already at Tuolumne Street, the turn I needed to turn right to get to Charice’s house. I drifted right around the turn like a boss at speeds neither Gavin nor I were expecting I could handle. I had turned so last-second, it forced Gavin to go straight through the intersection and then stop and make a U-turn to keep up with me. Laughing, I straightened out of the drift and left a billowing smoke cloud for Gavin to choke on. After crossing the train tracks I turned left onto Charice’s street slowing down considerably.
I pulled up in front of her house and cut the engine. I pulled out my cell phone and sent her a text.
You have time to talk?
She replied back almost instantly. A few minutes. What’s up?
I’m outside your house.
No reply.
Maybe she’s coming outside to see me. Despite being totally mad with Gavin seconds before, my heart almost skipped a few beats at the thought of seeing her.
I’m not there right now. I’m staying at a friend’s house.
My joy popped like a balloon, sinking to new lows.
I heard an engine roar to life behind me and I knew Gavin found me. Headlights blazed in my rearview, blinding me. I heard his footsteps approaching my window. “Oh, so you can run from your problems but I can’t? Get lost. I’m really not in the mood.”
“Seanny, just the white boy I wanted to see,” said a voice completely not Gavin’s.
In my wrecked emotional state I had totally misidentified a motorcycle engine for that of an Impala. Stupid mistake, but your brain doesn’t work correctly when you are running at the extreme ends of polar opposite emotions.
I didn’t need to look to know it was Justin, but I did anyway. A glint of street light reflected off the black finish of a Glock tucked between his belt. Sure I had a shotgun, but I wasn’t trying to have an Old’ West shootout with my girlfriend’s brother.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
I started the engine and threw the 69 Fastback Mustang into gear. Justin’s hand gripped my open window as I whipped the steering wheel and around and peeled out busting a U-turn. Instead of being dragged along with me, he let go of my window and rushed back to his Candy Apple Red ‘64 Impala.
The last time I’d spoken to Justin was over the phone. And he had not been happy at all. Charice’s phone pocket dialed him during the mayhem of a Sluagh attack. And Justin heard the whole thing. Not knowing what happened to his sister, he blamed me. Being the brother to a sister, I knew exactly how he felt. Sort of. I was protective of my sister to a point, and if another guy had ever tried to hurt her, I probably would’ve threatened to kill him too. Except my sister was already dead.
My mind raced as fast as my Mustang. I needed to get the heck out of there. I turned left onto Tuolumne heading uphill. Tuolumne was also a four-lane street. It was one of those weird main streets that cut mostly through neighborhoods. That meant there wouldn’t be a lot of streetlight intersections and a lot of open space for me to put distance between my ‘Stang and his Impala.
I raced up the street gathering speed, light poles flashing like strobe lights past me. His Impala accelerated dangerously fast and caught up with me. I was in the right lane and I looked over to my left and saw that Justin wasn’t actually driving, he was in the passenger seat. Another homeboy drove for him enabling Justin to hold the Glock.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
“He’s trying to kill me,” I yelled in disbelief.
All four shots should have went right through my driver-side window. Except they didn’t. Each shot stopped inches from my head outside my car. Flashes of green emerald light nearly blinded me. Celtic knots swirled around my Mustang coming to life. How was it possible? I hadn’t even tapped into my Luck magic. Then I remembered that I accidentally put a charm on my Mustang. I laughed like a giddy boy on Christmas day with a room full of presents to open. I totally forgot about the charm and didn’t expect it to work that way at all.
More shots popped off, and again my car deflected them. In the heat of the moment I decided to test the charm, roll the dice, and do something stupid. I swerved through the left lane, cutting off Justin’s car and driving into oncoming traffic. The street curved around a sharp bend and there was no way to know if oncoming traffic would appear at the speeds we were driving, until it was too late.
As I suspected, Justin’s car followed me into oncoming. After a few seconds the headlights of another car appeared around the bend coming towards us. I shouldn’t have been able to dodge out of the way in time. It was physically impossible, but the Good Luck charm reactivated, Celtic knots flared around my car. The steering wheel practically turned itself and I drifted around the oncoming car like a Hollywood stunt driver. Take that Ryan Gosling, you dashing man, you.
Behind me Justin’s car slammed on the brakes, smoke billowing behind the Impala as they attempted to control speed wobbles. I watched in my rearview as a single headlight popped up behind the swerving Impala. Another roaring engine pulled up alongside me. Gavin found me and caught up.
We crested the top of the hill together, then proceeded downhill gathering speed. I had no idea where I was going and it would be impossible to explain to Gavin. I’d just have to trust that he would follow me.
A fluttering of wings in my face made me jump out of my seat.
“Sorry,” said owl-Rob, as he settled on my passenger seat and changed back to his hobgoblin self.
“Almost made me crash!” I yelled.
“It’s not like you’re being shot at by Mexican gangbangers. We’ll leave that part out,” he said. “Is that Justin?”
I raised my eyebrows. “You think?”
“I don’t know… I couldn’t see him very well over all the gunshots. We’re moving so fast.”
I craned my neck towards the hobgoblin. “Of course it’s him!”
“Oh, hahaha. Silly me,” chuckled Rob. “Looks like the charm’s working fine though.”
The road ahead winded downhill, snaking its way back and forth so we were forced to slow down. This gave Justin ample opportunity to catch up. The fool must’ve reloaded his gun because he started popping off shots again. Obviously he hadn’t learned his lesson or he was in complete denial about the charm on my car. I would be too if I were him.
I slowed down and let Gavin get in front of me, then put my car between his motorcycle and the Impala. My rear view window flashed with emerald light as bullets pinged off the Good Luck charm. My clock displayed 8:23 PM. The night was young. How long could we keep this up though? Sooner or later somebody was going to end up shot or dead.
A loud croaking reached my ears and I turned, startled to see a large raven flying alongside my car. Another bird?
My Keening surged, but not in a painful way. I recognize the raven. It was the same raven I had seen several times before a few weeks ago when I was dealing with the Sluagh and Donn the Red.
“Hey,” said Rob, “is that the same—?”
“Yeah…” I said.
The raven croaked, bobbing its head. I had a feeling it wanted me to follow it so when it veered off down a side street I obliged. Gavin saw me turning, slowed to match my speed, following me. Justin’s ride did the same.
The raven led us on a wild goose chase, zigging and zagging down streets until I was no longer sure where we were. Next thing I knew we headed for a tunnel that dipped underneath an overpass.
A cloud of mist rushed in from nowhere, rolling through the tunnel, freakishly fast, obscuring my view. The raven flew head-on into the mist out of sight and I followed. I should’ve heard the echoing roar of my engine, but the growls of my Mustang were lost in the mist. Though my headlights were on, I could only see a few feet ahead of me and I slowed down.
In my rearview mirror there should’ve been three headlights following me, one for the motorcycle, and two for the Impala. But only dark tendrils of fog twirled behind my Mustang.
My Fastback erupted from the mist and I found myself on a dirt road in the countryside climbing a foreign hill. Up ahead of me were the ruins of some ancient structure that looked strangely familiar.
“We’re not in Kansas anymore,” muttered Rob.
I slowed to a stop and parked the car.
“Wait here for me, will ya? I gotta meet this raven by myself.”
Rob looked quizzical but said, “Sure thing, boss. You know that’s a crow though right? Crows have a fan shaped tail. Ravens have this wedge shape thing. Also raven’s beaks are way longer, enabling them to—”
“Okay. Okay. I’ve been wrong the whole time. It’s a crow. I get it.”
Cutting the engine and getting out of my car, I proceeded towards a weathered stone archway that led into the exposed labyrinth-looking structure. A wave of déjà vu rushed over me.
The mist had transported me to the Otherside, Tir na nOg. The very place that I defeated the Banshee a month ago.