Harbinger (The Bleeding Worlds) (2 page)

“Geez, you must have it pretty bad for her if you’re this worked up after all these years.”

He stiffened. “She’s just my partner for this assignment. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Sure, sure, Romeo. Just keep that in mind when you’re working with her. Otherwise you’ll make an ass of yourself and flunk too.”

Gwynn had clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. No wonder he didn’t share personal details with his Aunt. On the other hand, she had given him sound advice. In the end, he did what she said—kept cool and professional. The two of them had fun. He’d even managed to make her laugh. Being near her had been comfortable, easy. On top of that, they’d aced the assignment. Now Sophia had asked him out. Jaimie would be surprised how well her advice worked out.

Students started shuffling into the classroom. Gwynn averted his eyes from the door, appearing to focus on his books. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sophia come in alone and then Eric followed shortly after with two other members of the football team. The boys guffawed about something, though Gwynn couldn’t hear what. They stifled themselves after entering the class. After everyone had arrived, Mr. Baker made his entrance. The teacher’s grey streaked hair stuck out at random angles and his tie rested over his shoulder—all hinting he had met an unexpected wind turbine somewhere in the hall.

He launched into his lesson. They were wrapping up the
Tempest
today, and Gwynn leaned forward in his seat, eager for his teacher’s typical performance.

“Now everyone, I’m going to be reading this soliloquy from The Tempest. We’ll be going over it in detail because it might just be on your test tomorrow.” Mr. Baker gave an exaggerated wink and launched into his performance.

The words reverberated around the room. With each syllable, Gwynn remained entranced. Sophia caught his eye and gave him a small smile. It should’ve made him happy. Instead, his insides churned. Beyond her, Eric talked in hushed whispers with his cronies who stole occasional glances toward Gwynn and then averted their eyes if they saw him looking their way. A shadow seemed to hang over him since Sophia asked him out. Maybe he should cancel before the dream tumbled into the realm of nightmares.

In some distant place, Mr. Baker called the tempest down. Thunder rumbled. Or had Gwynn imagined it? In the pit of his stomach, something twisted. His body threatened to collapse in on itself.

Bell–like laughter, playful, but verging on mockery, filled the classroom.

Gwynn searched the room for the source. His classmates were listless. Most kept occupied passing notes to each other, or catching a few minutes of sleep.

The laugh again. This time, he followed its sound and found the source. On Mr. Baker’s desk, less than five feet from the teacher himself, sat a girl Gwynn’s age.

She sat cross–legged, her long legs encased in black stockings disappearing beneath a black dress that puffed outward over white frills. Green eyes regarded him with childlike playfulness and her smile begged for a game of tag or hide–and–go–seek.

She jumped down from the desk, her movements filled with a dancer’s grace. She passed within a foot of Mr. Baker, ducking under his gesticulating arms, who paid her no attention at all.

She leaned both elbows on Gwynn’s desk and rested her chin in her hands. Long black hair divided into two long strands fell on either side of her face.

“Hello Hidhaegg”

“What? Who?”

Her eyes filled with hurt. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Gwynn stole a quick glance around the room. No one seemed to notice her. “I’m sure I would remember you” His voice wavered with uncertainty.

“You used to know me.” She gave his nose a gentle poke. “Soon there will be a time when you
need
me. I am Gnosis, you are Logos. I am the Knowledge and you are the Word that will give the Knowledge shape.”

She moved and took hold of Gwynn’s right hand. Flames of pain raced up his arm. His head exploded in agonizing white flashes.

“Soon,” the girl said, “the Word and Knowledge will become one and deliver the Gospel.”

He fell. Everything went dark with stabbing punctuations of painful light. A great weight rested on his chest.

“Gwynn, Gwynn, are you all right?”

At first, he didn’t understand. It took a moment to register he was on the floor. He nodded, unsure as he got back to his feet.

“Do you need to go see the nurse?” Mr. Baker asked, his eyes questioning far deeper than just whether Gwynn needed a nurse.

Snickers came from the direction of Eric Haze. Gwynn didn’t think the school nurse would be much help. He took stock of the room. The girl in black had disappeared, if she had ever been there to begin with. What the hell? Hallucinations and blackouts? Even if the nurse couldn’t help him, he’d rather be there than in the classroom.

“I think maybe I should.” He managed.

“Don’t worry about your books. Will you be okay getting down there, or should I send someone with you?”

Gwynn just wanted to pull his hoodie up and disappear. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.” He left the class as quick as his wobbly legs would carry him.

§

School had long
since ended.

Mr. Baker wandered the deserted hallways toward his office. He liked this life. A mix of theatre and a dash of power. Sure, the little bastards had their snide comments behind his back, but seeing their faces fall at their low marks made for sweet revenge.

He kept his office Spartan—nothing but a desk and filing cabinet. Keep things simple, it made maintaining the charade easier.

Mr. Baker fished a key from his pant pocket and unlocked the filing cabinet. From inside, he pulled a plain black flip cell phone. It lacked the streamlining of modern phones, but his people had always been more about function than form. He collapsed into his office chair and reclined. He punched a series of numbers and waited.

A gruff male voice with a thick accent that Baker couldn’t place answered.

“Hello.”

Mr. Baker cleared his throat. “I’m calling with a status report.”

“Ah, Mr. Baker. How did things proceed?”

“He reacted to the Ambrosia field as predicted.”

An excited anticipation in the man’s voice. “Did he awaken?”

Such an idiotic question. “No.” Mr. Baker’s patience ran thin. If the boy had awakened, there would’ve been little need to call in an update. It would’ve made the evening news. “He did have a reaction. I believe things are in place. This weekend should reveal everything.”

“Then we will fulfill the final prophecies of Delphi.”

“Yes.” Mr. Baker said, a grin infecting his voice. “It
will
be glorious.”

Gwynn
opened his eyes. The cold, damp sheets clung to his skin. He lay in bed trying to calm his ragged breathing, his eyes unfocused on the dark that surrounded him. His heart drummed a ferocious staccato against his rib cage.

He had woken this way almost every night since he had regained consciousness in the hospital nearly ten years ago. The nightmare had become so familiar, nights it didn’t occur seemed odd and uncomfortable. Gwynn viewed the dream as evidence that he still loved and grieved for his parents. He worried that when the dreams ended for good it would be the night he no longer cared.

Unknown minutes passed. When the dreams first woke Gwynn, he would stare at the clock, counting the minutes until his breathing normalized—it became a game to see how many times his heart pounded a minute. Almost a decade later, he didn’t care about those things. The dream became a part of him. It couldn’t hurt him—just be a reminder of the fracture that staggering amounts of therapy hadn’t fixed.

Nervous energy and jumpy legs convinced him sleep wouldn’t come again. Gwynn turned over to see the harsh red digits of his clock. It read four thirty in the morning, Saturday, October 31. Halloween. Most importantly, the day of his first date with Sophia Murray.

He stared at the clock, willing it to move faster. Gwynn had little desire to get out of bed, but lying doing nothing seemed even worse.

He had avoided telling Jaimie about the incident in Mr. Baker’s class. He didn’t want to worry her when he had no idea what was happening. The memory of the girl, her laugh, somewhat familiar, still hovered over him. Was he losing it? Had Sophia’s first move snapped his fine hold on reality?

“I never thought being a Shakespeare nerd would land you a girl.” Jaimie had difficulty containing herself when he told her.

“I think it’s more than that.” He said the words, but his churning stomach served reminder he doubted it.

“Wow, this may come as a shock, but I was seventeen once. I can almost guarantee you no girl asks a guy out just because he’s a Shakespeare nerd.”

Gwynn started to grumble. But Jaimie’s smile and the joy in her eyes stopped him. Jaimie was twenty–four when she took him in. Pressed to describe their relationship, Gwynn would say they were friends more than anything. Without knowing it, Jaimie gave him what he needed. She never tried to replace his mother, but she did keep him in line. She gave Gwynn space, respect, and in turn, he tried to make her proud.

“So what are the big plans for the night?”

“I, um, don’t know. I’m meeting her at the 7/11 on Williams and then we’re going from there. She said we would be with some of her friends.”

Jaimie’s eyebrow arched. “Ah, a trial date.”

“A what?”

She laughed. “A trial date. You know, when a girl thinks she likes a guy, she invites him to hang out with her and her friends. Because it’s not just the two of them, it isn’t the same pressure as a formal date, and she can see if the guy fits in with her friends.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, don’t get like that. After all, with that, ah, wit and charm of yours, I’m sure you’ll pass the audition successfully.”

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

“No, no. Just remembering what it was like to be a younger girl crushing on a guy. Really, I used to do it all the time. Hell, even if I thought I was totally in love with a guy, I did the trial date. Half the time I did it just so my friends would keep me from making a total ass of myself. Anyway, I really hope this girl is as great as you think. Cause if she hurts you, she’ll have to answer to me.”

There were a million things to say, but he kept it to a simple “Thanks.”

Now the day had arrived, and his stomach twisted in an increasing tangle of knots. Hour after agonizing hour passed. How many times could he wash or change clothes in a single day? No matter how many showers he took, no matter how many outfits he tried, nothing ever seemed right. Even his skin conspired to be awkward and uncomfortable. He would catch Jaimie out of the corner of his eye watching. Much to his surprise, she said nothing, but he caught the odd devious smile.

It seemed that several days had passed when six thirty in the evening arrived. Gwynn dressed in black jeans and a grey sweater.

He checked the brown mess he called hair. Despite his best attempts, it remained defiantly unkempt.

“On your way?” Jaimie came down the hall.

“I think so. No jokes, how do I look?”

“Very handsome. If I was fifteen years younger, and we weren’t related, I’d date you.”

“Kinda creepy." He smiled. "But, thanks.”

“Go on, Romeo. Don’t keep the girl waiting. If you’re late that’ll be a strike against you right from the start.”

“Okay. See you later.”

“Sure. Be safe and have fun.”

Gwynn bounced out the door. His heart raced and his stomach lurched back and forth. He gave a giddy laugh. Lord, he needed to get this out of his system before meeting Sophia. Scared, excited, his body just couldn't seem to decide.

The 7/11 was just around the corner. A lightness in his pocket tipped him off that he’d forgotten his cell phone. Jaimie had gotten it for him two years ago. He carried it out of habit. He shrugged. No big loss. The only person who ever called him was Jaimie and he hoped she would have the good sense not to call him tonight, of all nights.

Unseasonably warm air smelled fresh and miraculous. Especially compared to the last week where a chill and dampness seemed to creep into everything. Tonight had to be magic. Children ran in their costumes, filled with excitement that they didn’t need to hide under heavy coats this year. Gwynn had missed many Halloweens. After his parents died, he hadn’t the heart to go out alone. Not that he’d forgotten the allure. Free candy and treats, the inherent joy of a night where you could be something, someone…anything else. On Halloween, everyone lived between worlds. Maybe Halloween was the one night he belonged.

A shadow moved in the corner of his eye. He spun around, expecting to see another child, but found nothing. Chills ran up his neck and his head prickled. He couldn’t help but take continuous glances over his shoulder.

Despite the 7/11 regularly being a busy hang out, it seemed deserted. Gwynn supposed most people had somewhere better to be. He checked his watch. It read six fifty. Was ten minutes early enough? He didn’t see any sign of Sophia so he decided to kill time inside.

The hard fluorescent lights stung his eyes and washed out the cream–colored walls that had once been white but had discolored with age and grime. A girlie mag occupied the clerk behind the counter—he couldn’t even be bothered to grunt some form of hello. Gwynn wandered the aisles, showing enough interest to deflect suspicion, but he didn't intend on buying anything. Anxiety ruined any hope of eating, and the meager offerings on the magazine rack offered little that would entertain Gwynn as much as they did the store employee.

Gwynn took another anxious glance at his watch. The blocky digits caused him further gastric discomfort. Five after seven. He started to worry Sophia asking him out was a cruel joke. In his mind, he had visions of Eric Haze, Sophia, and half or more of the football team having a good laugh, making bets on how long Gwynn would wander around the 7/11 before giving up. Were they hiding somewhere nearby, so they could confirm the time of his defeat and pay out to the winning bet? The back of his throat tightened, something heavy tugged at his core and his right hand burned with pins–and–needles.