Praefatio: A Novel Page 4

  “What’s going on?” I tried to even out my breathing, which had quickened along with the pulse thudding in my ear. Thoughts of the emails raced to the forefront of my mind, and I failed to push them away. What I was supposed to do next escaped me. Yet I jumped out of bed and stood at attention like a soldier, more catatonic than stoic.

  He levitated a book I’d never seen into the messenger bag on the floor next to my bed, levitated the bag, then eased it onto my right shoulder in one smooth movement. “Take this. Let’s go,” Remi instructed me calmly. He’d already dressed me by doing the same with a jacket and boots from my closet. We were gonna die, and Remi was doing magic tricks with my clothes.

  Thankfully, Remi was bigger and stronger than me. He didn’t even flinch when they crashed into the side of the house, raising it off the foundation, shaking the core. Dust rained from the ceiling, and books and knickknacks from the shelves crashed to the floor. It felt like there was a giant locomotive underfoot. I grabbed Remi’s arm to steady myself.

  Several loud claps of thunder tore through the sky. I held the curtain open, afraid of what I’d see. Quick relief filled me at the sight of shimmering fireworks outside. As they neared the ground, they morphed into creatures I couldn’t discern. It looked like the head of a lion, the tail of a snake and … is that a goat? Voices screamed at the front door.

  “Memento mori. Respice post te!”

  Sounds of whispering, scraping, growling, licking, screeching, dragging, and heavy breathing combined to deliver an unmistakable message. I was going to die.

  They banged on the glass, then dragged what seemed like claws across it. Windows shattered under the assault. I flinched with each new sound.

  Remi hugged me to him, a second of warmth that was over as quickly as it began. It was as if he was saying goodbye. I let go of the curtain. I didn’t want those creatures to be the last thing I saw before I died.

  “Grace, trust me. You have to run with me now!” Remi grabbed me and pulled me out of my room, down the hallway, past the other bedrooms, down the stairs, and out the back door. I couldn’t understand why he’d left the Larsons to die, or why they hadn’t followed. Why hadn’t they woken? Surely they’d heard that crash, the broken windows, and felt the house shake. There’s no way they’d missed that flash of lights. It looked like the Fourth of July out there. Unless they were already dead.

  I turned around to see the house through tear-misted eyes and remembered I’d forgotten Mr. Fluffy Rabbit. But we’d covered much ground in the few seconds since we’d left. The house was now thousands of feet away. We moved so fast that Remi went in and out of focus next to me. I convinced myself it was a dream and we were all still asleep.

  We raced ahead faster than it was possible for humans to run. I closed my eyes and listened for His voice. I wondered if He was out there, if He knew I needed him right then.

  The wind whipped around us, growling like a ferocious animal about to rip trees from the ground. It made my spine rigid. Visions came and went, and my mind seemed stuck on auto-play. Images of the strange creatures I’d seen beneath my window, scenes of people I had never met, but who felt strangely familiar, and a garden like the one He’d taken me to, then nothing. White noise, like they’d stopped broadcasting.

  I looked behind me, though I shouldn’t have. My stomach lurched when I noticed we were airborne, slightly above the ground, maybe five inches. I was sure I was going to be sick. Stars raced above us while the moon lit up the sky like a disco ball. On any other night, I would have enjoyed the sheer impossibility of it all. This was not that night. Another vision began, and this time, my head slumped onto Remi’s shoulder and I let it take me away.

  ***

  The fragrance was of honeysuckle, pancakes, berries, and something I couldn’t place. Sweet pea, maybe freesia. A slight breeze made me feel almost giddy as I walked.

  Above me, sky poked through ancient trees—maples, oaks, elks, willows, and pines. Fruit trees produced every kind of fruit imaginable. I stumbled upon a cherry blossom field. I resisted the urge to twirl and twirl until I became dizzy. But the feelings remained: happiness, joy.

  I came upon a large, open, grassy area where two banyan trees stood. The first looked as if it could sweep you up into its arms and devour you with its many twisted trunks. I kept my distance. With branches stretching from either side, forming a crescent shape above, the great tree’s leaves jutted out across and around the tree in deep red. Beyond the first tree, in the center of the grassy area, was another, covered in leaves of sunburst yellow and bearing shiny, succulent-looking fruit.

  It was strangely like a mirage, and yet I suddenly felt famished. But I wasn’t there to eat. I walked, resisting the urge to pull fruit from the curious tree, inhaling its scent as I did. It was intoxicating. This garden was not unlike the one in my dreams.

  Near the edge of the clearing was the mouth of an oddly-shaped stream. Clear water refracted light into a rainbow that stretched across it. Four distinct paths of flowing water ran from the stream and into a forest. Thirsty, I knelt at the base of the stream and drank pure, clean-tasting water. Satisfied and replenished from that one drink, I was certain I would not need to drink again for a long time, if ever.

  Perfection lay at every turn. If this was heaven, then I was dead. What if I was dead? I clutched at my chest, my heart pounding as if trying to remove itself from my chest cavity. A warm breeze caressed my face, then covered me in an embrace so magnificent I wanted to stay there forever. Then I was falling, thrown abruptly back to reality as the wrenching in my gut began.

  ***

  I never really thought about all Remi was capable of until those things crashed into our house and lifted it from the foundation. “Respice post te!” the voices insisted.

  I looked behind me again. Big mistake. Gigantic dogs. So big they could have been horses. Their open, chomping mouths kept coming at us, saliva slinging from left to right. While I watched, the giant dogs transformed again, their tails changing into rattlesnakes’ tails. The loud rattling echoed through the night and sent a chill through me.

  “Aggghhhh!”

  Something had ripped the skin on my calf to shreds. As I bent to try and keep my skin together, the bloodthirsty creatures gained on us.

  Remi looked quickly behind us and pulled me along. I knew we weren’t going to make it, and if he hadn’t known it before, I bet Remi knew it then. We’d never outrun giant, ferocious dogs, despite our head start. We were going to die, my leg leaving a trail of blood, leading them straight to us.

  “Grace, are you all right?” Remi placed his hand on my leg as if just realizing I’d been hurt. It felt like searing hot metal on my skin. His touch made me dizzy and our speed caused tears to dry on my skin almost as quickly as they’d fallen.

  “Oh God,” was all I could manage. I rubbed my leg where Remi’s hand had been while struggling to hold on to him, to my sanity.

  “Grace. Come on. Stay with me. I promise, everything’s gonna be OK.” Remi smiled and picked me up in his arms as if I weighed no more than Mr. Fluffy Rabbit. Then he ran even faster on feet that never touched the ground.

  I looked over Remi’s shoulder long enough to see the creatures through half-closed eyes. They changed back and forth between large dogs and enormous beasts resembling brown bears, but with wings and tails. The giant, winged brown bears had three snake tails. On the end of each tail was, instead of rattles, the head of a cobra. Long shoots of orange-blue fire came out of the bears’ mouths with a deafening roar.

  “Remi, am I?” I was nearly out of breath. “Did you … see … that? That did—didn’t. Did that just?” I placed my head against Remi’s chest, unable to stop the gush of tears. It was worse than any nightmare my mind could dream up. Still, through everything, Remi never faltered. I didn’t think it was possible at that moment to love anyone as much as I loved Remi.

  “It’s OK. Yes. They’re real and demonic. Those in particular manifest the fears of whoever they are
after. They’re literally trying to scare you to death. Don’t be afraid. You’ll make it worse.”

  Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid.

  When I opened my eyes, the bears were people, kids around my and Remi’s age. They moved as fast as we did, now trailing at about a car’s length—a small car. The two boys were clad in metal armor from chin to waist with leather here and there. They carried swords at their backs and waists and knives attached to their ankles. The taller boy had something in his hand, an axe, I think. If he was trying to scare me, it was working. The one in the middle was distinctly female. A hooded, blood-red cloak only partly concealed shoulder-length platinum blond ringlets. She seemed to be floating, legs unmoving. At her waist was an enormous sword sheathed in gold. She waved at me, exposing shiny metal cuffs on her tiny wrist and frighteningly long finger claws, on both hands, also in gold.

  Looking beyond Remi, I could have sworn the girl was smirking. I blinked and became even dizzier. She was closer than the rest and seemed more determined as she pumped her arms and pushed against the air. Despite Remi’s reassurances, I was terrified; more so than those beasts had made me. There was something about the girl that was so hauntingly familiar that it scared the crap out of me.

  “Stay with me, Grace,” Remi said before I passed out. The last thing I recall thinking about was when Remi became part of our family.

  ***

  My mother used to tell the story of Remi’s arrival like this. It was the Christmas morning of my fourth year on God’s earth, and Dad seemed especially excited. I’d assumed it was the unnecessarily extravagant gift he’d gotten me, which I’d already found when snooping, as was a bad habit of mine, around in the garage. It was a new bicycle, complete with reflectors—not that I was ever allowed to ride my bike at night, so the reflectors were more of a fashion statement than a safety precaution. I was only allowed to ride as far down as Mr. Johnson’s, the wonderful man—they don’t make men of honor like that anymore—who lived two houses away. Mom always referred to Mr. Johnson as the mayor of the block. If anyone had a problem, he somehow managed to resolve it. Truth is, old Mr. Johnson never really actually resolved anything. He was pretty much like Solomon. He presented the squabblers with options that either scared them to death or made them feel like complete idiots.

  Back to Mom and the bike, or Dad and Christmas. Mom would never have allowed Dad to give me such an extravagant gift if she had known about it beforehand. “It was just like Gabe to keep that a secret; he knew I wouldn’t approve,” she would say. She didn’t like to see me giddy. Instead, she would have come up with some garbage like, “She has to learn sacrifice, Gabe.” Right, Mom, because growing up with an absentee mother isn’t sacrifice enough.

  ***

  I shifted in the metal chair, knowing full well that Mom was on the other side of the mirror, listening to my every word with a raised judgmental eyebrow and a scowl.

  ***

  After pancakes, I went straight to the tree and began destroying the wrapping paper on the gifts Dad had tried so hard to keep a surprise. Just as I reached the bottom of the tree and spied my new CD player, the doorbell rang.

  “Gracie, I think maybe you should get that. It could be for you,” Dad teased. I squealed and ran to the door, visions of something too big for Dad to hide at the house dancing in my head. A pony, maybe? Had to be a pony.

  Reality smacked me in the face the minute I opened the door. My heart dropped to my belly as I skidded to a stop. My mouth fell open in shock as I laid wide and bewildered eyes on the anti-gift. Mom was there, smiling and shoving a real live boy inside the doorframe—and he stank.

  Maybe it was one of those “real” babies they advertise on TV—the ones that cry, poop, and pee in their diapers, I thought. Only this one was toddler-sized, about two years old, and definitely had the pooping thing down. I couldn’t imagine what he could be doing with Mom, my mom. Then I figured maybe it was one of those Save the Children kids, and we were gonna sponsor him for a week and send him away. I took a step back, slowly, inside the house where it was safe, warm, and the spirit of Christmas was still alive.

  “Sweetheart,” my dad said. “Give your mother and brother a hug.”

  He’d done it again. First Dad told me there was no Easter Bunny, then no Santa Claus. Now he was trying to pass some kid off as my brother.

  The boy looked completely innocent, but with the potential to be a really bad egg. It was as if he was pulled from a painting. Too perfect for real life. A caramel face hugged by tight, sandy-brown ringlets complimented eyes like double drops of blue island water that stared curiously back at me. You could search, but never find a color in existence like those eyes.

  “Gwace.” It spoke and reached out to hug me with its little hands. I was either in love or hypnotized by the stink that was wafting up from the diaper. From the moment he spoke, he was my brother.

  I never did get my new bike.

  ***

  “Come on, Grace, you’ve gotta wake up. You’ve gotta run, can you run?” Remi pleaded with me. I hadn’t been asleep, I didn’t think. I looked around to get my bearings. He put me on the ground, and somehow my feet started moving.

  Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling. We were gonna die.

  You will not die tonight. Your strength will save us all. His voice broke through my thoughts like vice cops with a search warrant. I knew He would find me, that He would not let them … that He could not let me die.

  Still dizzy, my eyes focused on a white barn with blue accents. Despite everything, it appeared serene, untouched by evil. We were safe. He’s right. We’re gonna be OK.

  We entered. The pain in my leg had eased up. I felt down to the fork-shaped wound. The blood had dried and a scab was already forming. There is no way in the world that this wound should have healed in minutes. Maybe I am going into shock. Maybe the stress of the situation is too much. Maybe this is what happens to the mind before one dies.

  Remi paced back and forth, mumbling and shaking his head in defiance as if having a conversation with someone I couldn’t see. What I did see were flashes of light from outside through the cracks in between the wooden planks of the barn walls. It was like before, at the house. Heavy legs crawled up the sides of the barn, shaking the structure as they went. Scraping, panting, and loud thumping filled my ears. It was over. This was it. We had nowhere to run.

  And then there was Remi. Where exactly had he come from? He just sort of showed up one day. Mom never mentioned how she came to acquire him or why he’d suddenly become a part of our family.

  Even as I got older, I never doubted the bond we’d shared. He was my brother plain and simple. I never once thought about what the lack of biological connection could mean until right then—when the differences between us became clear.

  In face of evil, Remi had led me away from the house and healed me when I became injured. What the hell was he? There, in a barn in the middle of nowhere, Remi was all I had. Now Remi’s secrets were going to cost me, going to cost us both our lives.

  I turned to Remi, now crouched on the floor opposite me, thumping his head against the barn wall as if trying to shake the answers loose from his brain. It was past time for him to tell me what was going on.

  He leaned forward and said in a voice slightly above a whisper, “Sleep.” It wasn’t a noun; it was an order.

  “What?” I asked in a sluggish drawl, already feeling the effects of his words on my body. My eyes grew heavy, the present slipping away. I wanted to will my mind to reject all I had seen, to sleep and wake in my bed at home with the Larsons.

  Remi stood and crossed the room to the barn entrance in what seemed like one long, floating stride. Just then something big and angry burst through the doors and cast a giant shadow on the floor. There was a near-blinding light behind Remi—or maybe coming from him. He raised his hands and I struggled to keep my eyes open.

  My mind went on overload. Oh my God, are those … Fangs? But the girl …
has … w … w … what in the world? I am either dead, crazy, or both, was all I could think. Two more crashed through the door in a ball of wings and fire and then unrolled into people. My eyes, so heavy … Dark … Eyes now slits.

  Remi, suddenly clothed in golden armor, held two huge axes in either hand. On his back, affixed in the shape of an X were two long swords. He took a deep breath, then simultaneously leveled the axes at the Fireball Boys.

  Nice one, Remi … Kick his … Sleepy … Remi, memento mori. Respice post te! … Remi. Oh my God, Remi. Your back. Is. On. Fire!

  Then Black.

  Nothing.

  What’s that beeping? Remi? Remi, where are you?

  PART TWO

  Was It a Dream?

  When I Get Outta Here, I’m Gonna Write a Book!

  I woke in a white room, head pounding. My semi-lifeless body pressed down like a one-ton weight into the slab of collective fibers they called a “bed.” It was a sad attempt to support what was left of a badly broken girl. I didn’t know then that a ruptured mind and tattered body made me an easier target, and that it was only a matter of time before they’d try to kill me again.

  I wasn’t certain, but the beeping and oddly familiar smell of sickness and industrial-strength cleaners indicated I was likely in a hospital. How I had arrived at said hospital, I didn’t know. My thoughts drifted to Him as I let my mind wander.

  “Is she still out?” I heard a familiar voice ask. It was almost like she was singing, but off-key.

  Mom?

  “Will she remember what happened?” It was Dad that time.

  I was sure the meds were responsible. The last time I’d seen Dad was on the news when they announced his death from a head-on collision. The concern in his voice was easy to discern, and the secrecy of his tone was the same as ever. Definitely Dad. But how?

  I wasn’t sure what they were hoping I wouldn’t recall. Surely they couldn’t expect me to have forgotten being hunted by huge, shape-shifting dogs that turned from bears into fanged angels or that creepy blond girl who attacked my little brother, who just happened to have sprouted huge fiery wings from his back?