Page 13
Story: Angel of Water & Shadow (The Book of the Watchers #1)
T wisting in my chair, for probably the hundredth time since class had started, I tried to register the words scrawled by the harsh strokes of Mr. Hess’s dry erase marker.
But the rain—which had turned into an epic downpour after my solo shift at work last night—and the feeling of entrapment that came with it, made it all the harder to concentrate.
I bit out a sigh. No point in trying to follow this lecture on resources during the boom-clap of thunder.
I had more important tasks to see to, anyways: finding the Voices.
Closing my eyes, I attempted to replicate the guided breathing I had done with my therapist the day before, imagining myself in a place that brought calm—far from the fluorescent lights overhead.
Shielding my brows with my beanie, I tried to escape them, but every flicker interrupted my concentration, making it damn near impossible to leave the classroom behind.
I blew air against my lips.
The summer storm—unusual, but not unheard of—trapped us indoors beneath the stained, moldy ceiling, so even the break offered no relief.
Growing restless, I went to lean against the window and watched the raindrops hit the concrete.
Focusing on one at a time, I followed their journey from the heavens to their final contact with Earth.
The impact rang in my ears as if they weren’t liquid at all, but marbles or diamonds, plinking down faster and faster.
I tucked my hands into my long-sleeve shirt and brought them together, hunching my shoulders to cocoon the warmth.
Ferocious gusts bent the trees; some branches gave in, littering the outdoor hallways.
Lightning struck, exposing the quad and all of its silhouettes: rose bushes, basketball nets, some idiot at the three-point line staring down my class.
Wait, what?
Squinting, I fixed my vision on the centermost part of their hood.
A mask against the incoming elements, or maybe a way to conceal their identity.
A chill swept over my skin, pricking each hair on my body, and my stomach dipped—nice try at going incognito, but even within this level of darkness, I caught that piercing green gaze.
When I crossed the door’s threshold, I knew I was defying all common sense.
I didn’t need to see any more of the person beyond the facade, though; my intuition already recognized his tricks.
The first step drenched my pale rose thermal to a dark maroon.
Righteous anger surged in me after the next, when it became more like swimming, my beanie nothing more than a wet rag on top of my head.
This close I could trace his distinctive jaw, jutting from his disguise.
“What are you doing here, Ryder?” I meant to sound demanding, but of course my voice came out weary, due to him or the effort it took to shout over the storm.
I took a final step towards him.
And this close I could count the water droplets clinging to his lashes.
He barely turned to look at me, focused on something in the distance.
“I don’t know.”
“You mean you thought you’d take a stroll in the middle of a hurricane?” I raised my palms to the sky.
“No, I had this feeling…like I needed to protect you.” Even with his voice dampened by the rainfall, I could make out how strained each syllable sounded.
“Seriously.” I wrapped my arms around my body, my shirt crinkled and logged with water, hardly protecting the skin beneath.
“You’re really bad at taking a hint.”
A flash lit up the court again.
The stroke of light underlined his cheekbones and revealed the panic in his eyes.
It cast the quad’s shadows across his shoulders and reflected off his drop hoop earring, the cross swiveling in the torrent.
“I know I’m breaking all the rules being here.” Being out here, with him, I was breaking some of my own.
He let the rumbling thunder pass before he continued.
“But I had to make sure you were okay.”
“I think I’m equipped enough to handle a rainy day.” Never thought I’d be so thrilled to retreat to Mr. Hess’s economics trenches.
When I turned to leave, he grabbed my wrist. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
I looked down at his grasp.
“You need to let go. Now .”
He may have unlocked his fingers, but it wasn’t at my command.
It was when a lightning bolt struck a utility pole not even six feet away.
My arms arched above me to cover my face from the eruption of sparks.
In one fluid motion he moved his grip from me to his bow, and had an arrow drawn into aim.
What, was he going to shoot a lightning bolt?
Only Ryder.
From under my hands, I watched each classroom go black, one after another.
Darkness swept across the windows, closer and closer to us.
“We need to get out of here,” he said, his voice low and urgent.
The tendons flared in his neck and clenched fists, and when he finally met my gaze…
gone were the arrogance and the wry gleam in his eyes and the smirk he wore so often I figured it was permanent.
The classroom, dry, in both temperature and substance—and way less dramatic—almost lured me to forget Ryder’s plea.
But the second we locked eyes, all of that seemed to have fallen away.
Staring up at him was like staring upwards into a forested canopy: disorienting in a good, heart-pounding way.
“I need to grab my bag?—”
He shook his head, cutting me off.
“There’s no time.”
With my phone and what little cash I had in my pocket, I guessed I didn’t need the extra five pounds of books weighing me down…
I tugged at the headphones still looped around my neck, the ear cushions sopping wet.
“Okay. Where do we go?”
He dropped his shoulders and softened his stance.
For a second try, he reached for my hand, and this time I laced my fingers between his.
I flinched as a light shock zapped me at the contact.
His touch was electric.
“Follow me.” He gave me a squeeze.
“And whatever you do, don’t look back.”
I didn’t follow his advice.
Obviously not right away, but as I shadowed his footprints across the snaking concrete, I turned and saw…
a school with a power outage?
Class would be let out early.
My classmates would be stoked.
What was the problem?
Ryder steered me around the terraced stairs and through the muddy fields, never dropping his pace or his eyes, or my hand.
We darted into student parking, shielded by the rows of Toyota Priuses, and stopped at an old Chevrolet pickup.
Low and long and painted all black, aside from the red accent on its rims that matched the cross-shaped logo on the front of its silver squarish grill—it was the type of car that turned heads wherever it went and had collectors selling kidneys for it.
With all his lurking it had never occurred to me that he could drive.
Couldn’t say I was mad about it.
Since it was too old a model for a simple click to unlock it, he fumbled with the keys.
With his focus there, I snuck another glance behind me, scanning the football stadium behind us, eyes cataloging grass, metal, and rain.
Stands stood empty, sidelines a ghost town, despite the scheduled scrimmage.
A yellow goal post towered above the end zone, while its twin on the opposite end of the field remained dark and obscure—covered, I figured.
That is, until it mobilized and barreled towards us.
“River, get inside!” Someone jerked my hand—Ryder.
I jumped back from his touch.
I’d almost forgotten about him with the obscure heap of dark matter rushing at me.
He was already in the truck, leaning over the passenger seat, fighting the epic wind to hold the door open for me.
Before my instincts could push me further away, he pulled me inside, and it slammed shut.
Inside, the rain hit like bullets spraying the roof.
I wasn’t sure I could breathe.
My eyes stayed locked outside the window, frantically sweeping the parking lot’s shadows for any sign of what I’d just seen.
“What was that?” I wiped my face with my sleeve.
“It didn’t look like the average storm cloud…”
Ryder failed to respond, too busy turning the key in the ignition and slamming his palms into the wheel, when a dreaded click signaled his failure to start the engine.
Impeccable timing, really.
Because that’s when a mass built like a linebacker landed on the hood.
My screams filled the silence.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t human.
It stood on two legs, but too many limbs jutted out of its back and stretched into the rain.
Fluid oozed from its mouth, staining its teeth, as it let out a growl so deep and threatening it made the car shake.
Glossy red streaks smeared over death-gray limbs, bloated from decay and rage.
I couldn’t shift my gaze from its beady red eyes, not even as Ryder swore and frantically jerked the key.
The car still wouldn’t start.
Totally fine, because any minute my mind would rationalize the situation, and this pallid beast spreading its featherless wings would actually be something like a pelican with rabies.
Can birds get rabies?
Its bill opened with a shriek that competed with my own, revealing rows and rows of sharky teeth.
I flinched at the wave of saliva it spat onto the hood of the car, sizzling like acid where it struck.
So, reality was playing hard to get.
Finally, the engine caught, and the shadow creature lost its footing as Ryder launched the car in reverse.
Fortunately, I, the very unsuspecting passenger, caught myself on the dash before diving through it headfirst.
I gritted my teeth.
“A heads-up would be nice.”
“Buckle your seatbelt.” Undeterred by my near-death experience, he swerved in and out of the open spots, the Chevy’s tires not the only thing screeching throughout the lot as the creature followed us.
“What the hell was that, Ryder?”
“A teratorn,” he said as he smoothly inspected the mirrors, then the street.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Tera-whatta?” I didn’t want to come off frantic, but you know, a Pterodactyl-looking monster had just chased us off campus.
“Tera torn .” His dramatic pronunciation brought out his accent.
The windshield wipers beat a frantic rhythm as we fishtailed onto the main road.
I twisted in my seat, craning my neck to see if it was still there.
“Well, what’s it doing here? Doesn’t seem like it escaped from the zoo.”
“It’s not from this dimension.” His head quirked to the side as if my disbelief was wholly inappropriate for the situation.
“It’s a demon.”
My whole body swiveled towards him.
Somehow his words were harder to comprehend than the actual thing that was chasing us.
Dimensions. Demons. And said with such indifference, like it was nothing special, like he was used to this.
Like this was real .
This was a far cry from the mischievous sprite that had crashed my birthday.
This thing had actual fangs .
Ones that could tear me to shreds in a matter of seconds.
I slid deeper into my seat.
“It shouldn’t be here.”
That was comforting, Ryder.
“Then care to explain why it is?” I snapped.
His lips slightly pursed and opened, seeming to be stuck on what to say.
Clearing his throat, he offered nothing but empty words.
“That…might take a while to explain.” I wasn’t sure why it was so hard to comprehend how clueless I was, when the majority of people would act the same.
“The ward’s there to stop it. Unless it was summoned…”
“Sounds casual.” I narrowed my eyes, the angry creases in my forehead practically digging into my skull, feeling as out of the loop as the other drivers waiting at the traffic light beside us.
Must be nice, sitting in their normal cars, thinking normal thoughts, heading to do normal things.
I tried to channel that vibe.
“Hey, looks like we may have lost it.” Unsuccessfully—a reverberating thud shook the roof, catching in my chest.
Before I had a moment to panic, an explosive force crashed into the windshield, hairline cracks spreading from the center of impact, fractal and delicate like a spider’s web.
My heart raced with the rhythm of the rain.
A barbed tail flailed outside the window beside me, coming for its second score.
One more hit and the glass would shatter completely.
Ryder reached for his arrows, but it wouldn’t be quick enough—he had been as stunned as I had.
Neon reflected in the top right corner of the windshield, the only piece that had remained intact.
“Green light!” I yelled.
Ryder jammed the pedal into the floor and our companion flailed off the roof, its cries as sharp as the shards that had started dropping into our laps.
I clamped my hands over my ears, but the scream blared past them, spearing my bones like the monster’s throat was a megaphone for the underworld.
And maybe it was. We careened onto a road that funneled into the mountains.
I crossed my fingers we’d be harbored by the trees.
“I can’t see,” Ryder barked, eyes scanning the ruined glass.
His demeanor had hardened, like any slip of emotion might cost us precious seconds again.
He stuck the upper half of his body out the window to get a better view, toes pressing the gas, fingertips steering.
I wanted to reach over and take the wheel and let him do his thing—but I slumped helplessly in the copilot’s seat, hands pressed against the sides of my head as if to keep it from rolling off.
The sad reality was, I couldn’t even offer to drive.
I didn’t have my license or permit.
I’d tried to get it—Javi had even tagged along with me to the written test. But when my finger met the touch screen, the DMV’s noises built and warped until every shoe scuff, every paper shuffle, every murmur turned my concentration to dust. I’d walked out without looking back.
A beach cruiser was all I needed.
Until now.
It wouldn’t be long before the teratorn caught up to us again.
I shuddered at the thought, wanting to slink so far into the cushion I’d disappear.
But I couldn’t; I had to do something.
I checked the rearview and as my eyes caught on the monster’s clunky form, I scooted towards the middle.
“Ryder, it’s gaining on us!”
He began to lean in for his quiver.
“Take the wheel!”
“I can’t! I don’t know how to drive.” I cringed at the look on his face, which spelled our defeat.
“Do you know how to shoot an arrow?” he yelled, still halfway out the window.
“No? And this doesn’t feel like a good time for archery lessons!” I yelled back.
“They say the best way to learn is by doing, so grab them out of my bag!”
The same black leather pouch he paraded the other night leaned against his empty seat, glowing ceremonially in the dash’s backlight.
Its crescent-shaped tip grazed my thigh—I hadn’t even noticed I’d scooted that close to the driver’s side.
I reached for the strap.
“I have them.” It took an enormous amount of willpower to stay calm.
“Now what?”
“You’re going to have to join me out here.”
Shit.
How did I not realize that climbing out the window would be a requirement when I agreed to this?
Rewind; I no longer wanted to help.
My legs lifted me despite my resistance.
Ryder’s eyes lit up when I folded the upper half of my body over the top of the cab on the opposite side—and held on for dear life.
“Alright,” he said, “listen closely. First take the bow and hold it with whatever hand you don’t write with.”
I attempted to control my shaky left hand.
“Next, place the nock against the string—the end with the fletching. Pull back, using whatever fingers feel most comfortable. Then aim and release.”
The equipment sloshed in the water running rivers atop the metal as I scrambled to bring the two pieces together.
Sagging feathers, drenched wood, no notches I could see or feel in this unrelenting downpour.
I went for it anyways, connecting the bow with the feathered end, and pulled back.
The arrow didn’t even catch air; it simply slipped into the truck bed.
“Damnit!” I braved a look at my driver.
What Ryder lacked in verbal acknowledgment he made up for with a glare.
Ass. It was my first try!
My next attempt didn’t go any better.
As the arrow disappeared, I was thrown back into my seat—Ryder had jerked the wheel to get us off the main road.
I clutched the quiver to my chest, the stiff material rising and falling with my rapid breaths.
The sky, absent beneath the redwoods, cracked with thunder.
Blanketed by the canopy, the rumble bounced off the tree trunks and echoed throughout the forest. The storm howled and hissed, and I swore it snickered.
The world was truly against me.
A ball of hopelessness lodged in my gut.
“What’s the problem in here?” He’d slipped into the cab for a quick second to shift us into another gear.
Before I could open my mouth to answer, he was heading up again.
I let out a stressed sigh.
There were many, Ryder.
For starters, the Voices had split, and they were probably the only ones who had a clear explanation as to what was happening to me.
Oh, and per his little pep talk, I was being chased by nothing other than a demon.
A demon . Not to mention with no license and with every lost arrow, I was further proving my worthlessness.
Not that I was anything special to begin with…
The despair felt as deadly as the teratorn, and it started to consume me.
My neck drooped, my throat burning with self-pity.
As my eyes, wet with tears and rain, fluttered shut, I went to rip the pendant from my neck.
It burned as if it were metal that’d been sitting in the sun.
I yelped as it seared my flesh, but the physical pain brought me back to the moment—the truck barreling through the redwoods, the guy perched atop the driver’s window ledge screaming for my assistance—the moment I had just been ready to quit.
Giving up on myself had been the obvious choice because I was a failure in every sense of the word: I couldn’t drive, I couldn’t use a bow, I couldn’t graduate high school…
I couldn’t save my mom.
I looked at the heated mark from my necklace, the swelling already reduced.
Maybe this was a chance for me to prove otherwise.
With the demon closing in, it was now or never.
Treating the cushion like my surfboard, I balanced on its springs, maneuvering the jerky bumps and swerves as I would a restless, angry ocean.
Arms out, the gear looped around my elbow, I joined Ryder, the midsummer monsoon rain beating into my soaked clothes like pellets.
Squinting, I stared past the truck bed, the harshness of the storm turning branches into trolls and roots into ogres and boulders into monsters.
Every shape, every shadow of the Santa Cruz mountains turned into something sinister.
I grabbed another arrow, its glittering silver-white tip catching my eye.
Weightless in my hand as if carved from stardust, but sharper than a steel blade.
My target hovered above the asphalt’s yellow stripes in a glide.
Its outstretched wings covered the width of each lane as it sped towards the exhaust, dangerously close to the truck bed.
I almost choked on its stench, so rotten it stung my eyes, but I blinked through the burn and tried to ignore it.
Claws scraped metal as the teratorn kicked its legs out and drew upwards.
I aimed for the center of the dark mass, hoping its heart lay in the middle of its chest. If demons had hearts, that is—it was more likely to be born of necromancy and decayed cartilage.
Thin, avian limbs swung forwards, slamming into the bumper.
The sudden jolt threw me off balance.
Yet another arrow plummeted to the ground.
The creature snapped its jowls and moved closer, teeth closing on the air.
Up close, I could see every sickening detail—the clotted blood pumping through its infected follicles, the skeletal arch of its back.
I fumbled with the remaining projectiles when the hooked edge of a wing grazed my cheek, and the monster circled back around.
“It’s preying on your fear—don’t let it toy with you!” Ryder called out, as if detecting the shift in me.
“You can do this, River. I know you can.”
A chill hugged my bones despite his encouragement—which, by the way, would’ve been a lot more helpful to hear earlier than ordering me to shoot something that wasn’t even supposed to be real, with a weapon I’d never used, and grimacing that I couldn’t ace it on my first try—like, not everyone is blessed with natural marksmanship.
Oh, and all while speeding down a two-lane road, which he now skidded across.
I flailed to hug the body of the truck, and the slick quiver whirled around my wrist and its contents came dumping out.
When I crooked my head to see what had happened, my headphones slipped off my neck and went tumbling down.
Leaving a cold, empty imprint around my collar.
My insides went hollow as if my organs had been ripped out and fell with them, slamming into every speed bump along the way.
“NO!” The force of my shout almost scattered the raindrops.
Ryder’s swears covered the entire alphabet.
I whimpered. “My headphones.” One of the only defense mechanisms I’d had for so long.
To me they were more than curved pieces of plastic—they were an extra appendage.
One arrow remained in my palm.
Its notches pinched my hand as I squeezed.
I’d kill this beast for what it’d taken from me.
Our final shot. Our last hope.
I pulled back the string, waiting for the perfect moment of release.
Ryder turned in my peripheral as I launched our hopes and dreams, compacted into the sparkling pale point.
It soared towards the monster like a shooting star, as if in slow motion.
And with a blink time sped up, the arrow twisting in its spiral and suddenly…
jerking left. Without even a graze against the monster it vanished into the mist.
We lost.
Mother Earth bellowed, the thunder echoing along with the teratorn’s shrieks.
It landed on the truck bed and cackled at my miss.
This whole chase had been a game, one it’d knew it’d win.
My shoulders collapsed in defeat.
I counted the spines on its throat, stared at the endless rows of denticles, winced at the open, maggoty sores gaping from the empty pockets that might have once contained feathers.
Slumped over the top of the cab, I closed my eyes and waited for death.
I’d suffered most of my life—I hoped it’d be short and quick.
I thought of the ocean.
My happy place.
As my pulse dwindled, my breaths evened out, and my entire body relaxed in acceptance.
The raindrops striking the truck and spraying my cheeks became the heavy crash of the break.
The water splashing off the hood and trailing through my fingers became the velvety flow of the current.
The wind whistling through the trees and whipping my hair became the wild force of the waves.
I opened my eyes as the ocean’s power washed over me.
The teratorn licked its marred beak, salivating at what would be my last exhale.
Faces of my loved ones flashed before me, as if they were already fading from my mind.
One in particular got my attention, and the frail threads of a veiled memory popped up.
We couldn’t have asked for a better day—it was one of those where the morning fog had delayed the crowds and when it had finally dissipated, my mom and I had the beach to ourselves.
The swell wasn’t overbearing; it provided just enough push to send me sailing across the shallows on my boogie board.
As I’d left her grip for maybe the dozenth time and glided towards shore, a sneaker wave overcame me, the thick froth unhooking my leash from my ankle.
Out of fear or shock, I swam against the current—against everything I had been taught—my mom’s calls and splashes padded by the fierce roar of the water as it carried me farther.
What was she saying?
Something like…take me instead?
And I’d let it.
“I hate you,” I gritted out, my voice turning the memory to vapor.
To no one really. I’d say the teratorn, but I knew I meant me.
Anger and something metallic, bitter, like regret, coated my tongue and thrummed in my veins.
The monster’s hungry maw stretched open in response, with a sickening smile, as it swooped in for my head.
In one bite it’d be taken right off my neck.
I stared straight into its killing jaws, not unnerved, not afraid, but so energized by my wrath I might explode before it even got to me.
Then the opposite happened.
A random bolt of lightning cleaved the clouds and the leaves, searing the teratorn’s flesh.
Intense, white light abraded its scalp, the energy electrifying its core, petrifying its being.
I jumped back at a sound—a haunting bellow from deep within the demon’s gut, harsher than the thunderclap seizing the air around me—and slammed my waist into the window frame.
Its chorus of agony cut off abruptly when it exploded into a million pieces, covering me with a film of clumpy ash and the stench of rancid egg.
As if winning its own battle against the darkness, the sun disintegrated the cloud cover and shone deep into the forest, remnants of the demon filtering through its pale streaks.
Ryder’s hollers faded in and out, so distant from where my focus lay—fixed on the black tar stain in the back of the truck, where I had just witnessed the impromptu cremation.