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Chapter twenty-one

“ G reat job today,” Bob told Shorty as they left the courtroom.

They stood in the building's foyer, a peaceful silence all around. Shorty adjusted his suspenders and smiled at Bob.

“It was a group effort,” he told his friend.

“When did you start wearing suspenders?”

“They are my lucky pair.” Shorty showed off the straps. “They come with skulls.”

“I’m not a suspender kind of guy, but those are pretty nice.”

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Both Shorty and Bob dropped flat to the ground at the sound of the alarm. The officer manning the reception desk also took cover behind his desk and pulled his revolver.

“Are we under attack?” the officer shouted over his shoulder.

“No idea, but stay down,” Bob shouted back.

“Attention, all personnel,” Pete’s voice blared through the intercom. “We have a code silver plus in the cells. Only trained personnel should assist.”

“What’s a code silver?” Shorty asked.

“I have no idea,” Bob replied. “When did we start using codes?”

“I kind of mentioned to Pete what Abby suggested.”

“Jesus Christ.” Bob jumped to his feet. “Before we start implementing new procedures, how about some training?”

Shorty quickly followed. “It is Pete we are talking about.”

“Let’s go.”

“Do we qualify as trained personnel?”

“Shorty, if we aren’t qualified, nobody else is. Hurry!”

“Boss!” screamed the guard over the wailing alarms. “Should I go?”

“No! Stay at your post as usual. Just find someone to kill the sirens.” Bob took off down the hall at a full sprint. Shorty followed quickly behind, pulling out his tranquilizer gun.

They reached the dungeons in time to duck as three of their team were thrown through the air.

“I really doubt any of our team is ready for whatever is going on in there,” Shorty informed him, placing himself flat against the doorway.

“Check on those three,” Bob told him. “I’m going on.”

“Are you serious?”

Bob never replied. Instead, he pulled his own tranquilizer gun and rushed into the room. The scene was pure chaos. A ten-foot troll was going berserk in the back. The Triplets were holding one troll’s arm. He was spinning them around like rag dolls.

“Triplets!” Bob shouted. “Disengage now.”

Triplet-1 and Triplet-3 heard the order and dropped. Unfortunately for -2, the troll had taken a hold of his legs and had him upside down. The intent was clear. The troll was planning to slam the man against the wall. An impact like that would break his back or worse, kill him.

Bob didn’t have many options. He picked a discarded chair and used it as a battering ram as he charged the troll. The impact didn’t knock the thing down, but it confused it enough to drop Triplet-2.

“Get him out of here,” Bob told them.

The other two rushed to help their buddy, but this left Bob alone with the troll. Bob had never seen an enraged troll before. Most of the ones that lived in Haven were the nicest beings he’d ever met. They were gentle and overly friendly. This one seemed like he had lost his mind.

“Hey, buddy,” Bob told him, slowly backing away. “I’m going to need you to calm down.”

The troll roared.

“Bob, get out of there,” Shorty told his friend.

“Buddy, we don’t want to hurt you.”

The troll wasn’t listening. He roared at Bob, and with a fist the size of Bob’s head, he swung at him. Bob tripped over one chair, and the troll nailed him straight in the chest. The blow sent Bob four feet in the air. Bob felt something crack in his chest and landed out of breath. The troll took the opportunity to charge. Flat on the ground, Bob saw the troll rushing, getting ready to squish him like a bug.

Unable to move, Bob did the only thing he could think of. Extending his arm in front of him, he screamed at the top of his lungs, “STOP!”

The troll froze.

Bob blinked several times at the sight of the troll’s foot inches away from his face, spit dripping down his jaw. Bob looked behind him, and his team was hiding behind the door, staring at him. Shorty gave him a thumbs up, but shrugged in confusion.

“Back away!” Bob ordered, in a voice he hadn’t used in decades, not since he left the military. He could feel power flowing from him.

The troll, to Bob’s shock and relief, obeyed. He moved back away from Bob, like he was under a spell. Bob shimmied away from the troll on his butt, chest hurting.

“On your knees,” Bob ordered the troll, who sank to his knees completely docile. “Shorty, hurry. I need a tranquilizer syringe. I don’t know how long he will stay like this.”

Triplet-2 handed Bob the emergency kit on the far wall, being closer to it. Bob took a large syringe that was probably used to knock out elephants and approached the troll.

“This won’t hurt you,” he told the troll, gentle but stern. “But we need to inspect you.”

Finding a vein in the troll, he administered the high dose of Eugene's secret compound. The troll followed Bob’s movement with his eyes but never moved. Bob placed a hand over the troll’s shoulder.

“Sleep, my friend,” Bob ordered, and the troll collapsed.

“Call me a yellow-cab!” said Shorty from the door. “If you could do that this whole time, why have we been tranquilizing folks and drenching them with water?”

“I have no idea what I did.” Bob looked at his hand and then back at the troll. “But let’s not waste time. Place him in a cell and call the doctor. Trolls are not violent.”

“He has been poisoned,” said TJ, running into the room.

“Ouch,” said Shorty. “What happened to your face?”

TJ pointed to the troll. “He happened. When I was taking a blood sample, he snapped.”

“What is going on here?” Bob asked the crowd.

Little J stepped up to Bob with his hand raised.

“He got you, too?” Shorty asked the young man.

Little J nodded. “It was weird.” He touched his bruised eye but pulled away at the pain. “One minute he was fine, and the next all hell broke loose.”

“Did he say anything before snapping?” Bob took over the question.

“He came to file a complaint against his neighbor, a witch that moved in next to him.” Little J winced as TJ started inspecting his cuts.

The Triplets had finished securing the troll and were picking up all the broken furniture from the room.

“Let me guess, the guy had poisoned him?” Bob took a shot at the story.

“Not just him,” said Little J. “The witch poisoned his garden, and the big guy was worried about his kids and wife.”

TJ stopped cleaning Little J’s wounds and glanced behind towards the cell. “If the poison he ingested did that to him, can you imagine a whole family of trolls going mad at the town?”

“Oh, shit!” Shorty shouted. “Here I was trying to be good and not cursed, and now you bring crap like that.”

“Is that why you used that yellow-cab phrase?” Triplet-1 asked.

“Yeah,” said Shorty. “Met this really neat fellow who has all the coolest sayings, but he doesn’t swear. I might need more practice before they come naturally.”

“We are all thrilled for your reformation, Shorty, but we have a major problem here.” Bob pointed to the sleeping troll.

“I got it!” Angela rushed into the cell carrying another huge syringe. “What happened?”

“You are a bit too late, Doc. The threat has been contained.” Shorty told her.

“Threat?” Angela looked around the room. “TJ, didn’t you tell me the poisoned victim was here?”

“Stand clear!” Pete shouted from the door, with twenty other pixies behind him. “We are about to dust everyone.”

“STOP!” Bob ordered for the second time in less than ten minutes, and this time, the entire room froze. “God, now what?”

“Well, it was about time,” said Death, as she strolled into the room, styling a red pants suit from Oscar de la Renta.

“Death, what is going on?” Bob spun around to face his team.

“You finally tapped into your powers,” Death explained. “It took you longer than I expected.”

“Powers?”

“Do you remember how Isis used to control people through her music?” Death took a seat on top of the desk.

Bob nodded.

“Each intern manifests theirs differently,” Death explained. “It seems War’s influence on you goes deeper than I thought. Yours are coming across as direct commands, not as subtle as my other interns.”

“What are you saying? That every time I speak, I will freeze people?”

Death chuckled. “Not that drastic. It’s all about intent.” Death glanced around the room. “It’s more like every time you channel your inner sergeant, people will obey those commands. I would definitely recommend practicing a bit to avoid accidents.”

“How do I fix it?” Bob pointed at his friend.

“Fix it?”

“Get them out of this trance?” He waved a hand in front of Shorty.

“How would you normally release a soldier from attention?” Death asked gently.

Bob turned slowly to face Death. “I used to say, at ease.”

At the sound of the words, the chaos returned to the room. Bob was stunned.

“Now, Bob, you are a full intern,” said Death and vanished from the room.

Shorty glanced behind Bob’s back. “Was that Death? Is she responsible for all of this?”

“No.” Bob shook his head.

“Boss!” Five different people shouted for his attention.

Bob raised a hand, and everyone stopped. Slowly, he moved away from the group toward the door of the break area.

“I’m going to need a few minutes,” Bob informed them. “In the meantime, Doctor, what’s in the syringe?” Bob turned slowly to face her.

“An antidote to the poison.”

“Good.” Bob nodded. “Let’s make sure our friend there is back to his normal self. Pete, prepare a team to go to the troll’s farm. If his family is infected, we need to treat them ASAP.”

“On it, boss.” Pete saluted in the air. “Pixie squad, with me.”

They flew away, spraying pixie dust all over the hall.

“I’ll be right back.” Bob left the cells and made his way up the stairs.

His hands were trembling, and he had to hold on to the railing to climb. He sat at the top step of the stairs, but only getting shallow breaths. Bob leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, Shorty climbed the steps and sat next to Bob. “Are you okay, big-guy?”

“I’m an intern,” Bob told him.

“Yes, you are,” Shorty agreed and leaned closer to Bob. “Are you sick? Did you get some of the poison on you?”

“I’m fine,” Bob answered. “Actually, I’m better than fine. Shorty, I have powers.”

“Didn’t you always have powers?” Shorty continued to examine his friend. “I mean, powers come with the job, right?”

“They never manifested,” Bob explained. “I figured I was just a stand-in until the new guy showed up. Or I wasn’t it because Isis was still alive.”

“I thought they changed that rule?”

“Shorty, I’m actually Death’s intern!” Bob rubbed his face and tears were fighting to escape his eyes.

“I’m confused,” Shorty finally admitted. “You have always been Death’s intern to us. You run Haven and the world listens. I didn’t realize you doubted it.”

“I guess I thought I was too old to be an intern, reason I never got the gifts.” Bob dropped his head against the wall.

“Did you check to see if you had them?”

“Well, there is nothing special about me. It’s not like I can play an instrument or anything.”

Shorty punched Bob in the chest. Bob winced from the pain.

“For such a smart man, you are an idiot,” Shorty stood. “Basically, you were running around thinking you were like a backup plan waiting to be replaced, and you never even tried to see if you could do magic. You deserved to get hit by the troll. Hard-headed.”

Shorty extended a hand to Bob. “Let’s go, jackass.”

“Hey, I thought you weren’t cursing,” Bob reminded him.

“Oh, please,” said Shorty. “Nobody listens to pretty little words. Let’s take you to the hospital so Angela can heal those ribs. I’m sure some of them are broken.”

Bob allowed his friend to raise him to his feet and dragged him back downstairs. “But our troll situation?”

“Pete has a team in route to the farm,” said Shorty, leading the way. “I’m planning to take another one to pay a visit to the new neighbor.”

At the basement landing, Bob stopped. “Is that safe? The man is not afraid of a troll. Who knows what he would do?”

“Trust me, not planning to go alone.” Shorty turned around and let out a loud whistle.

“Ouch!” Bob covered his ears.

“Our new recruit just came back from training.” Shorty pointed at the huge guy marching next to the pretty female officer, Ruby. “We really could have used him with the troll.”

“What is he?” Bob asked quietly.

Shorty could not reply, as the recruit joined them in less than two seconds. He had the face of a kid, maybe eighteen, but was closer to eight feet tall.

“Recruit Jesse. Ready for duty,” the young man told them.

“Jesse, meet the boss,” Shorty made the introductions. “Jesse is joining us from the lands of the giants up in Canada.”

“A pleasure, Jesse.” Bob extended his hand, and the young man shook it. Jesse’s hands were so large that it made Bob look like that of an infant next to him.

“Thank you so much for letting me join,” said Jesse in a faster speech than most southerners were used to.

“What made you come to Haven?”

Jesse shuffled around. “I really don’t fit in with my family.”

Bob waited for Jesse to continue, but the boy was uncomfortable. When it was obvious that Jesse would not say anything else, Bob smiled at him.

“You really don’t owe anyone any explanation. If you ever need to share, come and see me. If not, you are still part of this family.”

Jesse perked up and saluted again.

“Now I’m not sure how dangerous this witch is, so you all watch each other’s back, got it?” Bob asked the young man.

“Yes, boss,” Jesse told him enthusiastically.

“Jesse, let Ruby know I’ll be there in a second,” Shorty told him. “We leave as soon as I get there.”

“Yes, Mr. Shorty.” Jesse took off at a sprint, making the floor vibrate with each step.

“His family kicked him out because he has mixed blood,” Shorty explained. “The boy is not big enough for the giants.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I’m glad you found your powers, Bob,” Shorty told his oldest friend. “But you have always been our leader, even without them. You just made that outcast feel like a million bucks. That’s power, my friend. Never take it for granted.”

Bob patted Shorty’s arm. “Thank you, my friend.”

“You better get to Angela before she comes looking for you.” Shorty took off down the hall.

Bob watched him go. The hospital wing was another level down. It was a good thing he wasn’t in any hurry, because all his bones were hurting. Maybe there should have been an easier way to discover his powers.