Chapter 21

Ardia and Homer descended the steps of Razmik's sprawling mansion, making their way toward the converted bus that stood parked nearby. Homer was carrying two huge duffels – they would have weighed close to nothing for Ardia, but she enjoyed having Homer carry things for her in a way she couldn't quite explain. The bus had been converted at Razmik's recent request, designed as a platform that allowed them to travel securely and comfortably, even with a being as large and obtrusive as Homer.

As Homer heaved the duffels into the cargo box at the base of the bus, he paused and eyed the vehicle skeptically. Ardia patted his forearm and said, "I know, I know, you don't like the look of it."

Homer shot her a look and said, "Of course I don't like the look of it, it looks like a metal box, and it looks small."

Ardia laughed, "Homer, it's as big as we can manage without rolling around in military hardware."

Not quite understanding, Homer replied, "Why not roll around in military hardware? It's bigger and stronger, makes more sense."

Ardia responded, "That would draw too much attention and, frankly, wouldn't be as comfortable."

Homer looked at the bus awkwardly and remarked, "It'll be cramped in there with everyone for a while."

Ardia teased him, "Oh? Don't want to be cramped in with me?"

If it were possible for a creature like him to blush, Homer appeared to do so. He stammered, "No, not you, but I've spent a long time traveling so close to others. I like them, but their closeness... it fatigues me."

Ardia smiled and said, "It'll be good to be back out doing something, though." Homer grew a little distant and wistful.

Observing him, Ardia remembered that she had been playing with the trimming of his fur, trying to make it look more natural. By allowing the fur around his lower face to grow out and shaping the fur on his head, she had managed to make him look like an oddly-shaped man with a beard and a wild haircut – a little like a more rugged, distinctly uglier Criss Angel, one who had been on all the steroids in the world since birth.

Homer still wouldn't pass for human without copious disguising clothing. Over the last few months, Stryker had contented himself by assembling a veritable wardrobe of custom-made attire. Homer had shown a strange attachment to a two-piece suit and cowboy hat. Ardia was unsure how he could have formed any sense of fashion, and this choice displayed nothing of the kind. Still, she mused about how a beast raised in the jungle could have an attraction to any particular kind of garb. She herself had a preference for him in the monstrous leather jacket that Stryker had made or modified, probably consuming the hide of more than one whole cow, and a baseball cap tipped low.

Right now, he stood as he preferred, wearing only a pair of shorts, his gigantic body and tides of muscle exposed to the air. Ardia said, "We should get some clothes on you before we make our grand return to the public lights."

Homer groaned and shook his head, "I will just stay in the bus."

Ardia replied, "You were just complaining about the bus, about how cramped and stifling it would be."

Homer rolled his eyes, one of those amusingly childlike expressions that he used, out of place on a face so bestial, on a being so powerful. He said, "Better than clothes, having them against my skin, blocking the air, making me too hot."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Ardia countered, "But in clothes, you can move around in public, see sights, experience the world, go to coffee shops."

At the mention of coffee, Homer's attention seemed to spike. Ardia was well aware of his joy and childish sensitivity to caffeine.

Razmik and O'Connor approached, the wiry thief in his turtleneck, while the old priest still wore his shirt and priest's collar. O'Connor carried the long case he so cherished. Behind them, Abe was carrying a veritable armory. It seemed you could take the Spec-ops soldier out of Israel, but you couldn't take the soldier out of Abraham.

Ardia said, "Do we need to bring so many weapons? This is just an expedition, we're not declaring war on anyone."

Homer added, showing a growing understanding of the human world, "Will those weapons not be a concern to authorities if they investigate the vehicle for some reason?"

Razmik waved away their notions and said, "If our journeys so far have taught us anything, it's that we may not seek war, but it has a way of finding us. And rest assured, no authority will be checking this bus. I have my ways. Besides, if they did, the gigantic human-ape hybrid reading a book in the back might be of greater concern to them than a few automatic rifles."

O'Connor patted the case he held and said, "I feel better having The Almighty close. The forces that work against us keep throwing things in our way that exceed our expectations, and The Almighty has proven an effective balm against trouble more than once already."

Ardia eyed the case, never getting used to the contrast between the soft-spoken priest persona and the deadly ex-IRA sniper who occupied the same shirt and collar. She said, "Whatever, I should know better than to argue. Come on, Homer, let's round up Stryker."

Homer fell into step beside her as they returned to the house. Watching them leave, O'Connor began to roll a cigarette, while Razmik observed his troubled face.

Razmik, not probing but more opening himself to listening, said, "Is something troubling you, my friend?"

O'Connor, with a sardonic grin, replied, "It seems like there's always something troubling me, and you're always noticing."

Razmik shrugged and said, "We spend a lot of time together these days, I know your moods and expressions. We share enough secrets already; you shouldn't be slow to share with me."

O'Connor took a pull on his cigarette, considering. After some time, he said, "You had a considerable hand in raising Ardia, yes?"

Razmik confirmed, "Quite a bit. Patil was never well, never fully capable of managing a child, and when Ardia's abilities began to show, Patil was even less competent. "

O'Connor continued, "And you put her power to work, didn't you? You used her in your business?"

Raz replied, "It was the only pragmatic thing to do. She had powers and needed to learn to use them. I gave her practice - breaking legs, fighting, doing things nobody else can. It suited me too, of course. Having a beautiful woman who could outfight a football team is a very valuable asset."

O'Connor, feeling guilty, said, "And you never felt like you were doing the wrong thing, putting her talents to work for your plans? To benefit you, exposing her to danger and violence?"

Razmik had to consider this for a moment as O'Connor chewed and puffed before answering. "Not really. I knew I was gaining, but a farmer gains when their son grows strong enough to work the field with them. People like me, we don't see a distinction between the violence and danger of our world; it's something inevitable."

O'Connor stared after where Ardia and Homer had made their way up the steps into the house, remaining silent for a moment before turning to Razmik, his eyes seemed hollow, drained, empty.

"What has you so concerned?" Razmik asked, noticing the expression on O'Connor's face.

O'Connor looked thoughtful and said, "We seem to be zeroing in on something, an escalation, an ultimate enemy..."

Razmik replied, "That's the point, isn't it? Why do you seem so bothered now?"

O'Connor, his voice distant, confessed, "There are things I haven't told him, things that could change everything."

Before Razmik could respond, the front door burst open and Ardia came running out, looking mildly alarmed, with Homer close behind her. Ardia descended the steps, her annoyance and exasperation evident as she blurted out, "Stryker, he's gone!"