Page 34 of Strange Lights

Calvin finally releases me when I go limp. He rises with a growl, smoothly changing back into human form. A solitary figure is only yards away, closing in fast; dressed head to toe in black, face covered by a featureless black mask with a smattering of silver accents. Their outstretched left hand catches the moonlight, warps the light emanating from the remaining helicopter’s spotlight, seems to draw it all in and consume it like a miniature black hole. It’s an armored gauntlet, a silver hand shot through with veins of the darkest black.

She’s here, here, here. The voice in my head rising in a frenzied chorus of warning.

No. No, no, no, no⁠—

Calvin moves as if to attack.

“Run.” It comes out as a whisper. “Run! Calvin, run!”

He drops like a stone as the figure clenches her fist, his screaming drowned out by the remaining helicopters.

I will not scream, not even as the pain overtakes me. My blood is boiling inside my veins. My ribs crushing my lungs. Pressure in my head, I expect my skull to implode with it. It blots out every thought but escape. I struggle to my feet even as my vision grays, reality growing jagged edges.

As my vision tunnels, the earth tilts around me. I reach inside myself. Try to pull open that door through which I can reach the magic I can use to fight back. It’s second nature to fling out a mental hand, grab hold of Calvin as a tether. He feels like coming home. But I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been, and I’ve never thought I was strong enough. It’s as if I were fighting rusty hinges to reach through that doorway.

It’s no use. I could never win against her. The dark figure slowly backs away, arm still raised, holding Calvin and me paralyzed with pain. She motions with her free hand for a second figure to approach. A syringe ready in their hand⁠—

15

Waffle House Warriors

Distant screaming fades in and out like a badly tuned radio.

Reggie, Reggie, Reggie. Don’t go.

I won’t leave you, I try to tell her, but I choke on the words.

No, I am choking on something else. I cough and gag, desperately clawing at my mouth. Spitting and spitting onto the ground as I clear my mouth enough to gasp.

Teeth. My teeth are falling out, crumbling away in an impossible, endless stream. I gape at the sight, but there’s no time to freeze in terror. I have to save her.

Where am I?

A lonely desert, a dark night, wind whipping eddies of sand around my feet. I’m holding the little pot with my cactus. I have to save it, get it far away from here. Lights in the sky blaze brightly. Helicopter spotlights. The pot cracks in half, sharp spines pierce my skin, and I try to drop the cactus as I turn to run, but it sticks to my hand like a burr.

A dark figure stands there, masked, swathed in black, barely visible against the night. A werewolf is there, lying at her feet, a collar around his neck, chained to the ground. He looks to me for help, his eyes an amber color, flashing in the moonlight, bright and accusatory.

I hear Calvin’s voice in my ear. What did you do? Why?

I’m caught out, trapped in a limbo of past and present colliding. The lights grow brighter behind me. I can feel a presence coming near, some massive beast approaching with the lights. Something in the sky.

But I’m cornered because there’s Zara with her unforgiving eyes. A familiar little form, a toddler tucked against Zara’s chest, safe and peacefully sleeping.

You left her. You left me. Zara’s voice is accusatory.

She misses me. I hold out my hands in a plea.

Give that to me. Zara points to the cactus.

No, take these instead. I hold out a handful of teeth.

She shakes her head, clasps the toddler closer to her, and backs away, humming softly as she goes.

Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home.

I can’t move. I’m frozen in place even as Zara turns to run and the light grows blinding and a presence behind me looms.

Voices, a million intertwined, brushing across the surface of my thoughts like moth wings.