I lie between the realms of unconsciousness in the afternoon. Dreaming, fitfully, of shadow battles with Emily Bane, I toss and turn for much of my waking period—and even, at one point, jerk awake when what sounds like a fist hits the wall.
“Scarlet?” a voice calls into the room. “Are you there?”
“I’m here!” I call, heart still pounding, lungs continuing to flare. “Give me a second to dress!”
The person doesn’t respond, presumably giving me enough time to crawl out of bed, shimmy into a pair of sweatpants, and make my way toward the door.
When I open it, I find none other than Shadow standing in the threshold. He is dressed casually in a white, button-up shirt and a pair of jeans—a complete contras to the pure-black uniform he had worn during previous visits. “Hello,” he says.
“Hello,” I reply. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I would come see how you were.” Shadow smiles. “May I come in?”
I nod and step aside so he can enter.
“I heard Miss Bane roughed you up,” he says.
“How—” I start.
“There’s not much that gets past a Wiper,” the man interrupts, offering a painfully white smile that immediately makes me envious. “How are you feeling?”
“Like hell,” I reply, “but I’m okay. I asked Belinda to heal me.”
“Did she?”
“She did. At least, she did as well as she could, considering the extent of my bruising.”
“Are you well?” Shadow asks.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “I’m just… <i>a bit shaken up,</i>
I guess. From fighting, I mean. I was boxing in my sleep.”
“I imagine working so hard will do that to a person,” Shadow replies. He straightens his posture and turns his head to face me. “Pardon my intrusion, Miss Brown. I am not here merely to make small talk.”
“No?”
“I’ve come to ask if you’d like to get out of the Agency for a while.”
“And do… what, exactly?”
“Whatever you’d like. Eat at a restaurant. Watch a movie at the theater. Shop for clothes or makeup or whatever necessities you may need.”
“I don’t have any money,” I say. “I can’t afford to pay for anything.”
“I would not be offering if I was expecting you to pay for it.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I suddenly ask.
Shadow blinks. “Kindness is a virtue that should be extended to everyone, should it not?”
“I suppose,” I say but frown not long after. “Are you doing this because you’ve been assigned to me? Or… what, exactly?”
“I’ve taken an interest in you because you are the only witness to have ever defied me,” he replies. “So, yes—I suppose you could say it’s because I’m assigned to you, but also because I’d like you to be something more than an acquaintance.”
“Like what?”
“A friend, perhaps?”
“I—” I start to say, then pause a short moment later. “I can do friends.”
“So,” Shadow says. “Would you like to take me up on my offer?”
“If you’re willing,” I say.
“I’m more than willing.” The Wiper turns and starts for the doorway. “I’ll be waiting for you outside. Please, don’t hesitate to take your time. I want this to be about you.”
I wait until Shadow leaves before closing my eyes.
<i>A friend, </i>I think.
Though I try my hardest not to, I find a single tear slipping from my eye.
“Well,” I whisper to myself, “I guess I better get ready.”
* * *
We leave the convenience of the Agency and make our way into downtown Dallas with no goal or destination in mind. Longing to eat, shop, and see a movie all at once, I struggle to decide what to do first as Shadow drives aimlessly, passing by attractive clubs that are starting to fill with people, business swamped on this Saturday evening, and restaurants with delicious smells blowing from them.
“So,” Shadow says as we come to sit at a red light. “What would you like to do first?”
“Honestly?” I say. “I’m kind of overwhelmed. Being out here, in the real world and all, after, well… you know.”
“I know,” Shadow replies. “There’s no need to speak on this.”
Even the thought of my mother is enough to stir tears to my eyes. However, given that I don’t want to ruin the moment by crying, I reach up, pinch the bridge of my nose, then nod as I lift my head to face the windshield. “Why don’t we go see a movie?” I ask. “Then we can eat and go shopping.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
“I mean… if that’s okay with you, anyway.”
“Tonight is all about you, Scarlet Jane.”
“Thank you, Shadow.” I pause, struggling not to be overcome with emotion. “It means a lot to know you’re willing to be so kind to me.”
“There’s no need to thank me, my friend. I’m doing this for you—and because this might be the last time in a long time that you might get a chance at normalcy.”
<i>Normalcy, </i>I think, and frown not long after.
It’s hard not to be taken aback by the statement, let alone allow it to settle in.
<i>Is this it? </i>I ask myself. <i>Is this the last chance of a normal life before everything happens? Before </i>it<i> happens?</i>
Before the trial, my review, my initiation into the Guild of Hunters?
Bombarded with newfound anxieties, I draw in a deep breath, then expel it.
I don’t need to focus on the future—at least not now.
I have the present to enjoy.
* * *
After everything I’ve gone through over the past two weeks, I decide to lean into something comfortable and, as such, <i>lighthearted. </i>As a result of that, I choose an animated film that just so happens to be about a fish who journeys to find his lost son after he is captured by an exotic wildlife fisherman.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
“That… was a dark film,” Shadow says as we walk out of the theater.
“Dark?” I laugh. “What do you mean <i>dark? </i>It was a kid’s movie!”
“Well, for one,” Shadow says, “the fish’s wife dies in the beginning. Then his son is captured and he’s swept away on this grand journey. Then there were the sharks—”
“—which I hate,” I offer.
“—and the journey to Australia—”
“—which was exciting,” I declare.
“I know,” Shadow concludes. “It just seemed a bit bleak.”
“But it had a happy ending,” I say and slide my hand into my pockets to watch the people as they approach, couples as they leave, families as they pile into trucks and minivans.
<i>They have no idea, </i>I think after several moments of watching them. <i>They have no idea about what</i><i>’s going on, and I’m one of the few who know. One of the few who understand. </i>
<i>One of the few who suffered.</i>
I ball my hand into a fist as I contemplate just how many people have been victim to the Supernatural world? Ten? Twenty? Maybe a hundred or more? The idea is staggering and instantly causes me to reconsider how safe we truly are out here in the open as we walk back to Shadow’s car, as the Wiper follows close behind.
When we reach his Camaro, Shadow opens the passenger’s side door for me before rounding the vehicle and sliding in behind the wheel.
“So,” Shadow says, “where would you like to eat?”
“I don’t know,” I reply.
“Do you have a preference?”
“Something light, maybe?”
“What did you use to love to eat when you went out with your friends back home?”
<i>My friends, </i>I think.
Shadow falters. “I apologize,” he says. “It’s hard to forget at times that you’re still acclimating.”
“It’s all right,” I reply, straightening myself out in my seat. “I used to like going out for sushi,” I then say, “but I don’t know. What do you think?”
“I don’t require sustenance. Remember?”
“I know, but… can’t you eat for pleasure?”
“I can if I’d like to.”
“Then let’s go eat. Besides—I’d like to know a little more about you.”
* * *
“So,” I say. “Now that we’re here and have ordered and all… why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself?”
“About myself?” Shadow says and laughs as a waiter appears with egg and salmon rolls. “What could you possibly find interesting about me?”
“I don’t know,” I reply. “It’s just, we’ve known each other for nearly two weeks now, and I barely know anything about you.”
“All right. What would you like to know?”
“More about you, for one,” I say and wait for the waiter to leave before leaning toward and adding, “and about what you are.”
“Ah,” Shadow says, a smile curving his handsome features. “That’s why you wanted a corner near the back of the restaurant.”
“Precisely,” I say. I’d specifically chosen this location due to its proximity to the kitchen. While not overly loud, what sound does manage to escape the kitchen is enough to mask our voices.
“All right.” Shadow smiles. “We’ll play it your way, then.”
I wait in eager anticipation for him to begin while talking hold of an egg roll from its place along my platter.
“I came to consciousness after the Hiroshima bombing in 1945.”
“You came to consciousness?” I frown. “What’re you talking about?”
“Though it is unclear where people such as I come from, it is believed that Wipers are born out of the immense sadness of humanity and the longing to forget the destruction that follows. I was… <i>born,</i> I suppose you could say… from the wreckage of the atomic bombing.”
“That’s impossible,” I say. “The radiation would have killed you.”
“Remember,” he says, “I am not human, nor was I ever designed to be. I merely awakened in this form.”
“That’s kind of hard to believe,” I say but nod as I continue to eat. “What happened next?”
“I made my way from the devastation to a neighboring village called Hatsukaichi.”
“And what did they think when you arrived?”
“They couldn’t believe it,” Shadow says, keeping his eyes set upon me as he regales me with the story of his awakening. “They said… that it looked like the sun had swallowed the world. Most were confused about what had happened. They couldn’t believe a retaliation of such intensity could actually happen, let alone that someone—<i>anyone</i>—could have survived it.”
“How did you explain it?”
“I didn’t,” he replies. “There was something inside me that compelled me to make them forget. So… I did.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“When did you make your way to America?”
“In the years after the war. I… was lost for purpose. I did not require sustenance, nor sleep, so I wandered, traveling the island and seeing what there was to see. Something—and to this day I do not know what it was—compelled me to travel west. I smuggled myself onboard a ship and made the perilous journey across the Pacific Ocean until I landed in San Francisco, California.”
“And from there?”
“I was drawn—instinctively, as if by a memory I did not have—toward the south. When I arrived in Dallas, I discovered the Agency, and it was there that I realized my purpose in life.”
“I see,” I say. “So… let me get this straight. You don’t age. You don’t need to eat—even though you seem to want to eat the food you ordered—and you don’t need to sleep.”
“No. I don’t.”
“Is that the life of a Wiper? To watch, observe, and make people forget what needs to be forgotten?”
“I learned that there were others like me upon reaching the Agency, when I met with the Executive Board of Directors. Amelia Vanderoof was the one who opened my eyes to the possibilities in the world. I was just as naive as you, once.”
“And you’ve been working for the Agency ever since?”
“Since the 1950s,” Shadow says before nodding to lean forward and examine me. “What about you, Miss Scarlet? What would you like to tell me about yourself?”
“Gee,” I say, reaching up to brush a stray hair behind my ear. “I really don’t know where to start.”
“Then start anywhere.”
“You already know my father died when I was three years old,” I say, “so, naturally, I was the only child. My mother never remarried. She was devastated by my father’s loss, to the point where I’ve been told—by relatives, no less—that she might be unfit to care for me. But she persevered. She went to therapy. Got stronger. Went back to school, became a nurse. We lived with my grandmother on my mom’s side for the longest time.”
“And how did you enjoy that?”
“It was hard. I… barely remembered my father—at least until recently. I couldn’t even remember what his voice sounded like until I saw and heard him in the pod.”
“That had to have been a surreal experience,” Shadow says.
“It was,” I agree, “but after we moved out of my grandmother’s home and into the suburbs of Shreveport, I started going to middle school. That’s where I found my love of sports—particularly basketball—and all the friends that I could’ve ever asked for in life.”
“You’ve mentioned them before. Ariana. Cindy. Carrie. Donna.”
“You don’t forget much, do you?”
“Anyway, I joined the basketball team in high school and immediately took to the sport. I was so good that Coach Vasquez was convinced I would get a scholarship at the end of my senior year.”
“Were you active in the church?”
“We were Catholic. My mother used to sing in the church choir.”
“Do you still believe?”
“Should I?” I ask. “Because honestly, I’ve been struggling with the idea that any good can exist when there seems to be so much bad in the world.”
“There is always good in the world, Scarlet. You just have to consider where to find it.”
“Can you answer a question for me, Shadow?”
“Possibly,” he says.
“Are Angels are real?”
“Yes. You could say that.”
“And Demons? I saw… Something that looked like the traditional depiction of the Devil in the Viewing Chamber, when Emily Bane took me there.”
“There are wretched creatures who dwell within both our realm and others.”
“So there has to be a God. And if Demons exist… then there has to be a Devil.”
“I’m not permitted to speak on those matters,” Shadow replies. “And even if I could, I would not know what to say. These beings—this dichotomy—are beyond anything you could ever imagine, always combating, always brewing in the madness of good and evil, right and wrong, justice and injustice.”
“I see,” I say and sigh not long after.
It is something I have struggled with since my mother’s death—the reality, and possibility, that she might have just <i>vanished forever. </i>My faith has taught me that there is a Heaven and that people go there if they are good, but with everything that’s happened, and everything I’ve seen—
It’s hard to imagine if anything I’ve ever learned was right.
<i>Are you really gone? </i>I ask myself. <i>Are you really, truly gone forever?</i>
Struggling to keep it together, I lower my eyes and take a long, deep breath.
“I’m sorry I brought this up,” Shadow says, suddenly, and with care I know is meant to soothe me. “I should have deferred the conversation to something else.”
“It’s all right,” I reply. I can’t help but sniffle. “Can we… can we just get our check and go, please? I’m suddenly not in the mood to go shopping anymore.”
“Do you wish to return to the Agency?”
I nod.
At least at the Agency I have purpose. Desire. Something to work toward.
Out here, in the real world, I feel like a stranger, lost and alone and unable to comprehend everything around me.
I realize, not long after the waiter returns and Shadow requests the check, that this is a feeling I know I will never get over, regardless of how long I am in this new world or how much I learn about it.
<i>This is the new normal, </i>I think.
What a terrible thing to know.