The Rift (10 page)

“
Well, cool name either way,” Neil
said.

“
I don’t wanna fight,” Vero said.
“I’ve got enough problems at the moment.”

“
Agreed,” Gloria added.

“
Good,” Neil said. “In that case,
we’ve just got one barrier.”

“
Jed,” Pieter said. “And that other
guy with him…”

“
Dek, the wildian,” Neil said.
“That’s what James called him. Whether that’s a race or ethnicity,
who knows? Anyways, if they’re here when the main army arrives,
we’re identified. We don’t want to end up in that situation. If
they’re not here, we’re just ordinary high schoolers. I’ll get back
to WoW, Vero and Pieter get back to kissing…”

Vero groaned.

“…
And Gloria, you get back to your
life.”

Fighting in the fury of that first night had
been one thing. But actually hunting someone down and killing them?
“What do you mean by ‘gone?’” Vero asked. “Like… dead?”

“
Preferably not,” Neil said.
“Because whether he’s from another dimension or not, we might end
up in jail. I’d rather just get rid of his soul armor and take him
to the police. He and Dek are currently wanted for armed robbery.
We’ve got a justice system; let them handle the Ruachites…
Ruachers…”

“
Ruachians,” Pieter said. “Like
Asians. Europeans. Ruachians.”

Neil tapped the keyboard. “Ruachians. Check.
Anyways, I suggest getting them to the police. Jed wants to find us
and kill us? We get him first then get on with our
lives.”

“
And if it’s not that clean? If it
comes to killing or being killed?” Pieter asked.

The fire crackled.

“
It won’t,” Neil said.

“
Why don’t we just tell the police
right now?” Gloria asked. “That sounds easier.”

Neil shook his head. “Bad idea. For starters,
if they find out about our weapons, they might suspect us of
James’s murder. Plus, the army or CIA or whoever would take our
soul armors. And I don’t want to give up our protection with those
Ruach…ians still out there.”

“
What do you mean?” Vero asked.
“The cops would protect us, right?”

Pieter scoffed. “Did you see what Jed did that
first night? I don’t think the SLO-po is ready for something like
that. I don’t know if anyone is.”

“
So, witness protection or
something,” Vero said.

“
You want to leave SLO for witness
protection?” Neil asked. “And give up your soul armor? Do
you?”

Vero paused and rubbed a finger over the band
on her arm. Her sisters and mom loved this place. And, truth be
told, Vero did, too. She didn’t say anything.

Neil gazed into the fire. “We take care of Jed.
Then, if we want, we hand everything to the authorities. Or not.
Personally, I say we keep the whole thing a secret. If nobody knows
who we are, we get our lives back.”

“
You make it sound so easy to keep
it secret,” Vero said.

“
Well, at some point, I wanted to
talk about disguises. You know, take a hint from the Justice League
and protect ourselves and our loved ones. We’ll… we’ll work on
getting some masks or something. But regardless, I don’t think
we’re ready to face them down. We need to train, to figure out how
to use these armors. Then, when we feel strong enough,
we
go
after him. If we’re really lucky, the cops catch him before we even
have to do anything.”

“
And if we’re unlucky, somebody
else comes through the portal to help them out,” Pieter
said.

“
Right. Which is why we can’t wait
too long.”

“
What about the invasion? What if
it’s real?” Vero asked.

“
You don’t think the authorities
will notice when Ruachians start coming through en masse in the
middle of SLO? The army doesn’t need a pro tip from us about
defending the country,” Neil said.

Vero wanted to argue. Something about Neil just
made her want to argue. But he’d thought this out pretty well. It
seemed like the best way to get rid of the problem. “I’m down to
train. Jed, well…” She still didn’t like the idea of fighting
again. “Either way, it’s better if we know what we’re
doing.”

“
I don’t want to fight,” Gloria
said.

A log collapsed on the fire. Everyone stared at
her.

Neil raised his voice a little. “You have a
better idea? A better way out of this?”

“
Well, we could… just keep our
heads low.”

“
Gloria, he threatened to hunt us
down and kill us. Not to mention holding up a bunch of stores
downtown. Do you really want someone like that wandering around
SLO? The best way to protect ourselves is to fight him. We can’t
just run and hide.”

“
I just… yeah, that makes sense,”
Gloria said, frowning slightly.

Vero sat up and brushed some sand off her back.
“Hey, Glori, you mind walking to the bathroom with me?”

“
Um… sure,” Gloria said.

Vero pulled the girl up by the arm. Gloria’s
face spasmed in pain and her arm tensed. Weird. Vero hadn’t pulled
that hard. She shrugged it off, and the two walked toward the
restrooms at the beach entrance.

“
Glori… You mind if I call you
Glori?” Vero asked.

“
I’ve had worse
nicknames.”

“
You doin’ okay?”

“
Yeah.”

“
Oh, come on.”

“
Well, all things considered. But
this is all pretty scary.”

“
Yeah, it is,” Vero said. “But you
know, with that thing on your chest, you’re the strongest woman
ever alive. Have you tried it out since a week ago?”

A car passed, headlights white against the
sand.

“
Just a little,” Gloria
said.

“
Glori, you’re braver and stronger
than you let on, aren’t you? There’s something like steel in
you.”

Gloria looked at her feet.

“
Look, I know this is all crazy,
but we can’t just sit and do nothing,” Vero said.

“
No, probably not. I’d like to, but
I think you’re all right. Eventually, they’ll find us.”

“
Right. Don’t you want to at least
figure out how that thing works? Don’t you want to be able to do
something, rather than be helpless?”

A light just above Gloria’s breasts lit up.
Thanks to Neil, Vero couldn’t help but notice that it didn’t light
their path. “That’s in a pretty awkward spot,” Vero
said.

“
Yeah, it shows up under my
clothing, depending on what I wear. But like James said, it has to
be against my skin to work right.”

“
Mine also shows under most of my
clothing. I keep it in my purse mostly.”

Gloria shook her head. “Wish I could do that. I
have to basically undress to get mine on.”

“
What’s it feel like when you use
it?” Vero asked.

“
Peaceful. It beats in tune with my
heart.”

“
Sounds like the opposite of mine.
I feel like I’m burning up.”

They walked in silence for a moment.

“
We need you, Glori. And not just
to fight with us. Don’t just zone out when we talk. Don’t let Neil
steamroll you. He acts smart, but he’s an idiot.”

They arrived at a small, freestanding building
made of cinderblocks. Four unisex bathrooms exuded the faint smell
of raw sewage.

“
Thanks,” Gloria said.

“
No problem. Let’s go
back.”

“
Didn’t have to pee?”

“
Nah, you just needed someone to
talk to. No way I’m stepping into one of those.”

Pieter blankly gazed into 42,000,000 Google
results on
American civil war cause
. Somewhere in there was
a passing grade on his history report. He leaned back in his desk
chair. Lengthy papers worked against his strategy to pass classes
while expending minimal effort.

Vero had a group project; his sporty friends
had sporty practices; even Neil had homework. So he’d come to Dad’s
house, which should have been a distraction-free place to complete
his paper. But there were no distraction-free places for writing a
research paper. He at least hoped for some takeout Chinese, an old
favorite for his busy, culinarily incompetent father.

At the bonfire, they’d agreed to train with
their weapons. Sunday, they’d met at a trail just north of town,
bushwhacked back off the trail, then created a clearing by downing
trees with their soul armors. Neil stopped them, saying that
deforestation would attract too much attention. They spent about an
hour running, jumping, and fighting each other, somehow managing to
avoid serious injury.

After that hour, one by one, their soul armors
went dark, and they couldn’t reactive them for the rest of the day.
Pieter went to bed early that night and still missed algebra the
next morning. He spent the entire day groggy. Soul armor exhaustion
went deeper than physical soreness: He had trouble thinking,
trouble feeling. Croga stretched him in every way, like it was
shaping some deep part of him: his soul, whatever that was. The
following Saturday, they trained again; he lasted longer and slept
less. Now it was Wednesday.

Pieter tabbed to Facebook and scrolled through
a puppy in a soup bowl, commentary on the Middle East, and his
friend Mike ranting, “I don’t care who caused the Civil War.
America won. Please let me get back to my life.” Boredom permeated
the air; the entire city seemed to breathe it. A link caught his
eye:
Medieval Burglars Spotted at SLO High
. He
clicked.

Someone saw the Medieval Burglars on the roof
of SLO High, the older high school across town. The cops rushed to
the scene, but the Medieval Burglars had vanished at the sound of
sirens. A few students claimed to have seen them jump off the roof;
police were skeptical of that claim.

Pieter stared at the ending period of the
article and shivered. He had no clue what Jed and Dek had been up
to for the last couple weeks, but apparently they had figured out
that here in America, kids the age of Pieter and the others went to
things called high schools. It wouldn’t take them long to find the
right one.

One training session a week suddenly didn’t
seem like much.

The click of the front door opening pulled him
out of his thoughts. It seemed like his dad was home. However, a
couple minutes later, something foul assaulted his nostrils. Rancid
body odor? Unwashed clothes? Pieter feared the worst, shut his
laptop, and stomped downstairs.

“
Hey, Bro,” said a figure pulling a
bag of nacho cheese Doritos from the pantry.

“
Hey,” Pieter said.

A grimy hoodie covered Steve’s torso, and
equally stained jeans covered his legs. He stood about an inch
taller than Pieter, and matted hair hung down to his shoulders. A
rough beard covered his face, and a tall camping backpack, its
original color impossible to determine, rested on the linoleum
floor. The stench nearly bowled Pieter over.

Steve tossed the Doritos bag on the tiled
kitchen island and removed some chips with his blackened
fingers.

“
I thought we changed the
locks.”

Steve laughed as he chewed. “Only helps if you
bother to use them.”

“
Point taken.”

Pieter gazed into his eyes. Normal, not
dilated. No wonder Steve was hungry.

“
So what’d you come here
for?”

“
Snacks. To say hi, see if I could
stay a couple days. Cops raided our camp.”

Pieter could deal with this Steve. He could
talk to this Steve. Despite the grime and the body odor tsunami,
somewhere inside was the Steve he grew up with, the one some part
of him still loved.

“
You know Dad won’t let
you.”

Steve shrugged. “Worth a try.”

“
Where you been?”

“
Here and there. Santa Cruz was
nice. Went to San Fran awhile; the place is cold.”

It was good to see his brother. No, that was
stupid. This was Steve! Sure, he was sober, now. Sure, they could
have a conversation, now. But tomorrow? Hadn’t he learned anything
about trusting this wreck?

“
I hear the place is great when
you’re not homeless.”

Crumbs fell out of Steve’s mouth as he spoke.
“Aww, little Brother, still pampered by Mommy and Daddy. Better
free like me than a slave like Dad.”

“
Not sure I want
either.”

“
Keep your mind open.”

“
That a code phrase for ‘smoke
meth’? Doesn’t seem to have done wonders for your
aroma.”

Steve shrugged, sending a little avalanche of
chip crumbs onto the kitchen floor. “Don’t worry, your time’ll
come, little Bro. Let’s share a camp someday.”

A whoosh of air signaled someone else coming in
through the front door.

“
What’s that smell?” shouted their
dad.