Greg stared at at me, his eyes wide enough that I could see the white of them even in the dark. I stared right back. My mouth was hanging open. I couldn’t quite bring myself to care.
It was him. Somehow. But- that was impossible. I’d watched him fight the not-officers. I’d watched him get shot. His head had just….exploded. So how was it he was standing here in front of me, not even an hour later? He didn’t have a scratch on him - hell, his clothes weren’t even dirty.
He leaned back, his hands sliding free of my shoulders as he groaned. “Thank fucking god. Did you have to run halfway across the damn forest? Why would you run, just to hang around here?”
I drew breath, starting to respond, but his hand slapped back over my mouth before I could. “No, no, no. What did I just say?” he snarled.
He was the one who’d asked the question. I twisted away, throwing my arms up, and he let me go. “Not a single word,” he said, folding his arms. “They’re close. We can’t risk it.”
That wasn’t stopping him from talking, I thought sourly. My still-broken finger throbbed painfully, reminding me that I had yet to get that cast. It was beginning to look like it would be waiting a while.
Greg shook his head, half-turning to scan the pitch-black woods. “Where is it?”
I blinked, confused. Where was what?
When I didn’t immediately answer, he turned back, rolling his eyes. “I’m not an idiot, you know. And I heard the gang of assholes when they were giving their little welcome speech. They know, you know, I know. Everyone knows. Whoop-de-fucking do. So where is it? You need to withdraw, before they find us again.
A groan rippled out from between my clenched teeth. After everything that had happened, after him pulling a knife on me and then saving my life and getting shot and coming back from the dead, he was still making exactly zero sense. What were they looking for? Why wouldn’t they all leave me alone? And if I could run, I’d have ‘withdrawn’ a long time ago. But my legs were still trembling under me, the little strength I’d managed to find washed away by the adrenaline and terror of his reappearance.
He’d been shot. In the head.
Before I so much as shake my head, his palm snapped out. “Give it here. I want to see it.”
My mouth dropped open again, exactly where he could stick that hand rising to my lips.
I hit the ground hard as his fist plowed into my nose, cutting off the unkind things I’d been about to say. His weight dropped down on top of me a heartbeat later. I gagged, his knee pressed into my throat until I could hardly breathe. No matter how hard I sqirmed, he didn’t hesitate. My hands slapped uselessly at his elbow as he slid a worn backpack from his shoulders.
“I warned you,” he muttered, glaring venomously down at me. “What are you trying to do, anyway? What did I ever do to you?”
What? He held me at knifepoint, for starters. I couldn’t manage the words while fighting for every breath, though. My eyes snapped open as he tapped my cheek.
“Here. Open up.”
I blinked. He was still sitting on top of me, the bag open and waiting beside him, but he wasn’t empty-handed anymore.
He thrust the wad of fabric he clutched in one hand towards me. “Put this in your mouth, then. Hurry up. We don’t have the time for this.”
An insane giggle slipped from my throat as he waited, his brow furrowed. It was a sock. He’d pulled a sock from his backpack, and wanted me to put it in my mouth. Hell, no.
Catching the look in my eyes, he frowned. “It’s clean. I think. I mean, everything got a bit jumbled in there, but- just do it, would you?”
I shook my head furiously. No, no, no. There was no way I was going to-
A metallic click rang through our little clearing. I froze. The knife from before was back in his hand, clean and ominously reflecting the dim light of the moon.
“Did I ask if you wanted to?” Greg said, leaning in. “Put it in your fucking mouth, or I’ll finish what they started.”
My eyes were still fixed on the blade of his knife. Shit. Try as hard as I might, I couldn’t think of a way to get myself out of this insanity. Slowly, hating myself and my cowardice, I let my mouth slide open.
He didn’t wait for an invitation. Before I could slam it shut again he’d pried my jaw open, stuffing the sock in.
I gagged. He was wrong. Totally and completely wrong. There was no way that sock was clean.
The sound of tearing plastic filled my ears, oddly loud in the silence. Before I could turn my head and spit the sock back out, he’d stuck something to my face, pinning my mouth shut. Tape. Duct tape, judging from the size of the shadowed roll in his hands. I eyed his overstuffed backpack with distaste. Exactly how much did he have in there? And why was he-
“Don’t even think about touching it,” he said, his face still dangerously close to mine. “I told you to be quiet and you didn’t listen. Now, be quiet.”
I could feel the tension in him, the pent-up anger and frustration. His hands trembled, the blade of his knife shaking as he sat back. “All right. Just let me see it already. I’m not going to take it from you. Probably. I just want to look.”
I shook my head more desperately, my own frustration building by the second. He sighed. “Use your goddamn phone. Technology is immutable, as you know perfectly well.”
My phone. Uh. Right. I was suddenly grateful that it was as dark as it was. It kept him from spotting the way my ears were burning. I inched clear of him, reaching slowly for my pocket. His knife was still too close and ready for me to even consider taking off the makeshift gag. Easing my phone out of my pocket, I tabbed the button, looking away.
“You didn’t charge your phone. What are you, ten?”
It wasn’t just my ears burning anymore. He was chuckling, and I didn’t get the feeling he was laughing with me.
My heart skipped a beat at a sudden flash of light. And then I looked down.
He was holding a phone out for me to take. At least…
I snorted. It was a flip phone - straight out of the 2000s. My mother had had one just like it for years. From what I’d seen in the store, he couldn’t have been older than 27 or 28. It had to kill him, to be stuck with something like that.
He frowned, the expression dimly lit by the light of the screen. “Are you really going to sit there laughing at me?”
The low laugh that had been building in my chest died before it could slip out. My hand closed over the phone before he could change his mind.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
A bead of sweat dripped down the small of my back as I worked the keyboard desperately. I hadn’t had to use a numpad to type a text in ages. Until I’d started hitting the buttons, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d remember how. With his knife still leveled at me, though, I managed.
> What do u wnt
Greg stared at me, eyes narrowing. “Don’t play stupid. I told you. I know. Your relic - oh, you kids are calling them your ‘focus’, now, aren’t you?”
I paused, eyeing him. You kids? Really? It wasn’t like there was any significant difference in our ages. What an asshole.
> don’t know wht tht is
“Really? That’s your story?”
My pulse quickened. What else could I say? What could I tell him? It was the truth.
> Really
His hand latched around the collar of my jacket, tugging. He was trying to get my coat off. I squirmed, kicking him away, but before more than a second or two had passed he’d frozen. Had he reconsidered?
I risked a glance back. He was watching me again - and this time, the look in his eyes was contemplative, not angry.
“Are you serious? You don’t know?”
I reached for the phone again, trying to pretend my fingers weren’t shaking.
> know what
Greg groaned, apparently finding whatever answer he was looking for in my eyes. Probably the rampant, uncontrolled confusion and fear. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Before my fingers could start tapping away on the keys, his hand closed over mine. I looked up. He was staring at me unhappily.
“All right. What’s your name, idiot?”
I fought with the urge to throw his phone into the woods for a long, challenging moment.
> Jon
“Nice to meet you, Johnny. When we met, you were speaking the Old Tongue. Where did you learn it?”
The clicking of keys seemed far louder than it should have in the quiet.
> the fuck u talking about
He sighed. “You said it’s just something you do. Don’t play stupid. You know what I’m talking about. What can you do, exactly?”
My fingers were frozen in place, hovering over the keys. I’d never told someone else about my oddness. No one knew but my family - my immediate family. I was supposed to keep it to myself.
And yet, with him scowling at me and that knife waiting at the ready, I didn’t know what else I could be expected to do.
> i speak langages
He didn’t so much as blink. “What languages?”
I snorted, through the gag.
> any
“What do you mean, an-”
I was already typing.
> whoever Im talking to. Their language.
“So you just walk up, and bam, there it is?”
> kinda yeah.
He ran a hand through his hair, still half-shadowed. “Fucking hell. Ok. Look. There’s people out there looking for us right now.”
> duh
My fingers were already tapping it out before I could stop myself. He glared at me.
“I saved your life. Don’t bitch at me.”
> you got shot.
He grimaced. “Ah. Yeah.”
> how
“How what?” he said.
I didn’t bother typing a response. I just stared at him. He smiled crookedly back, knowing it had been a stretch. “It would be easier to show you, but….We’ll just say I’ve got talents too.”
> you died
It was hard to convey my anger in a text, but I did my best. I’d seen him fall, his blood covering the McDonald’s parking lot. That wasn’t something he could just play off and pretend to be done with. He seemed to know it too. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed.
“I...guess. Ok. Fine. Have you got-”
His words fell away before he could say anything else. He stood, turning in a slow circle. I shrank down into the leaves where I sat, all of the fear of earlier returning instantly. What? What did he hear? The forest was black as far as I could see in any direction, and I couldn’t hear anything, but he certainly seemed to.
He turned back to me as I rose, his face beginning to pale. “Just listen. They’re close. They’ll know I popped out somewhere in the woods.
Popped out? I was already typing, but he shook his head violently. “Stop that. There’s no time. Just...You’ve got something, all right? Something that makes you different. They know that now, and they want it - badly enough to do all this.”
I shook my head slowly, my feet sliding away, but he grabbed my shoulder, pinning me in place. “When they’re this close, they’ll see it every time you use your gifts. They’re watching. You need to stop. Withdraw, and you’ll be safe.”
This time he let me pull free when I tugged away from him. My eyes flickered between the dim screen of the flip phone and his face.
> withdraw
>
> ?
“Jesus fucking christ,” he muttered. “Pull out. Stop casting. Whatever. Stop triggering your focus. Once you do, we can talk.”
> how?
He groaned. “Ok. Never mind. We don’t have time for this game. Just...keep your mouth shut and leave the tape on. I’m not getting shot again for you. Say a word, lead them to us, and I’ll leave you behind.” His eyes were fixed on mine. Somehow, I knew that leaving me to our pursuers was worse in his mind than just stabbing me and letting me bleed out. “Can you do that, Johnny?”
I nodded slowly, still unsure but without a better option. The more he said, the more he tried to explain, the more lost I was getting. That wasn’t good. He was already stepping deeper into the woods, glancing around nervously. I keyed in one last message, following close behind. If I lost sight of him, I knew he’d be gone before I found him again.
> thanks greg
“Gr-” he spluttered, eye twitching as he came to a stop. “Where’d you- oh. No. Don’t call me Greg.”
I paused, eyeing him. My brow furrowed, the confusion plain on my face.
He sighed. “It’s a piece of shit name, but I had to put something on my ID. Not really a good disguise anymore, though, is it?”
My next message came slower, more unsure.
> then what
He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it up as he kicked at the dirt. “Aedan. You can call me Aedan.”
Aedan. The fake officers had said that name. Not that that meant anything to me, but even still. I nodded cautiously, following behind as he crept through the darkness.
“We need to get out of here,” he muttered. “We’re straight up shit creek if they close the net. I mean, well. You’re up shit creek.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
I didn’t see the humor in it.
“You’ve led us on quite the run, haven’t you?” he muttered, turning back to the trees. “Any genius ideas? Got a four-wheeler stashed nearby?”
I chuckled, the sound muted behind his sock.
> no. cars back there. thats it
His steps slowed. “You...left your car there.”
I nodded, not quite sure why that was what he was interested in.
“With your registration in the glove box, no doubt,” he said, rolling his eyes at the look on my face.
I faltered, slowing nearly to a stop before Aedan dragged me on. Shit. Shit, shit shit. Well, maybe- maybe they wouldn’t know which one was mine.
Right. Mine was just the one sitting there unlocked and waiting, with the lights on. The one that would be sitting there long after the last of the customers left for the night.
Somehow, I was pretty sure they’d figure it out.
“Got any family in the area?” he said, a more serious tone underlying the joking lilt he’d had thus far.
I grimaced. Apparently, that was enough of an answer for him. He turned away without another word.
The world spun around me. What was I supposed to do, then? Were they going to go after my family? Try and wait at my apartment for me to come home? Should I run? No, no - I couldn’t run and leave them behind. It wasn’t going to happen.
“Keep up,” Aedan snarled, glaring back at me. I flinched, left seeing only the faintest outline of him as he vanished into the night, and crept closer. His hand slid into his pocket, gripping something there. “Start thinking, Johnny.”
About what? I didn’t even have to type it. He chuckled humorlessly, still glaring. “You have something. Something on you right now. Something you never take off, until it feels like it’s part of your identity. You already know what I’m talking about. Now you need to realize it - fast.”
He stormed on without another word. I followed as close behind as I could, my mind racing.
They’d been looking for something too, hadn’t they? Searching my pockets, checking the studs in my ears. They hadn’t found anything, clearly, so apparently it wasn’t my earrings.
But they’d been in a hurry. They’d been less than thorough, hadn’t they?
If the criteria was ‘something I kept on my person at all times’, then there weren’t that many options.
My hand slid to my chest, my fingers sliding over the rough surface of my jacket. It was dark enough that Aedan wouldn’t see. I didn’t know what he was getting at, what crazy idea had popped into his mind, but I didn’t want to encourage him.
All the same….
The necklace was warm against my skin as I traced its outline, my thoughts whirling.
“Take this.”
I flinched, reality returning in the span of a moment as Aedan spun on me. There was a knife in his hand. I stumbled back, tripping over a tree root.
Still trying to push myself away as I pressed a hand to my aching head, I froze. He was muttering darkly to himself, stepping closer.
“Get your shit together, Jon,” he hissed, crouching down. His hand was out again. I blinked. It was a different knife - a second one. He wasn’t threatening me. He was arming me.
I wasn’t sure I liked that any more. The feeling only grew as he turned, eyeing the distant forest.
Clutching the knife to my chest, I stared, wide-eyed. My pulse thundered in my ears.
Blindingly bright, a narrow beam flicked this way and that across the woods, pausing here and there. We weren’t alone. Someone was in the woods with us - or several someones. Distant still, yes.
But getting closer.