Month: November 2017

Chapter 54 – Charlie Can’t Know

Published by Liz Effe on November 26, 2017

Liz, Impact Day

It felt strange, being in the café with nobody else around. There was something strangely transgressive about it, like being behind the stage of a play. Wendy seemed different, too. In a sense, she seemed relaxed, as she shed the veneer of innocence and banality. In another, there was a different kind of tension filling her, like she was dreading a coming storm.

She sighed, resting her hands on the table. They seemed too delicate for her, somehow.

“I’ve done everything I can,” she said, her voice hollow, defeated. There was no soft, cute charm to it now. “I tried. I really, really tried.”

“Bullshit,” Rachel said, her voice full of venom. “You could walk right in there and pull her out. You could share your power with us, and we could do it. What have you done instead?”

“I’ve played by the rules,” Wendy snapped. “The one rule, really. The one rule that lets an immortal, superhuman abomination like myself live in a world like this one.”

“And how long have you lived in this world?” Aidan asked.

“Two hundred years,” she said, hanging her head.

“Six months,” Rachel said. “For six months, you’ve let her sit in there, being tortured and pulled apart and god knows what else, so you can continue with your two hundred year existence, as… what, a barista?”

“It’s not that simple,” Wendy said. “My life isn’t… It’s not just my own. It’s not something I can recklessly throw away. And I’m not just a barista. I’ve lived so many lives, trying to save as many people as I can, while still playing by the rules. With the time I have left, I could save so many more.”

“I think I understand,” I said. “It’s hard to turn down the chance to do good in the moment, so you can do more good later.”

“Sounds like a lazy justification to me,” Rachel growled.

“You’re not exactly neutral,” Aidan said.

“Let me make this as clear as possible,” Wendy said. “I owe my existence to more sacrifices than I’d care to count. To throw that away would be more than irresponsible. It would be selfish. What you’ve asked of me, without knowing, is so far beyond what I could ever do for you, I very nearly cast you out and ran so far away you’d never find me again.”

“Well, this is off to a good start,” Aidan said.

“Believe it or not, I actually like Charlie,” Wendy said. “Even before I realised what she was. And when I did…”

“You know what she is?” I asked, leaning forward.

“You wouldn’t like the answer,” she told me.

“I can handle it,” I insisted.

“You really don’t want to know,” Rachel chimed in.

“You know too?” Aidan asked.

“I have a pretty good guess,” she said, shrugging.

“I’m not telling you,” Wendy said. “And that’s that.”

Aidan and I both looked at Rachel.

“Hell no,” she said.

“Then why bring it up?” I complained.

“Because it’s important,” Wendy said. “It’s the reason I changed my mind.”

“You changed your mind?” I asked.

Wendy sighed, slumping in her chair. It seemed unnatural to see her without perfect posture, to look so utterly defeated.

“You’re missing the important part,” she said.

“You won’t tell us the important part,” Aidan countered.

“You know enough,” Wendy said.

“We know it’s enough for you to change your mind,” I said, thinking out loud. “Whatever Charlie is, that’s somehow tied into your desire to do the greatest good you can.”

“It’s important you understand that,” Wendy told us. “I want you to understand what I’m giving up, so you understand why I’m giving it up. Because I only get to do this once, and you’re the ones who will make it count.”

“Does Charlie know?” I asked.

“No,” Rachel said. “And it would be better to keep it that way.”

“Why?” Aidan asked.

“Let me put it this way,” she said. “If I put a button in front of you, and told you not to press it, what would you do?”

“I wouldn’t press it,” he said, though he didn’t sound sure.

“And how would that make you feel?”

He pondered that for a moment.

“Curious. Stressed, if I’m being honest. Tempted, too.”

“You would always be thinking about that button,” Rachel said. “And that’s why Charlie can’t know.”

“I don’t follow,” Aidan confessed.

“Me either,” I added.

“Good,” Rachel said. “For you, and for the sake of Charlie not finding out.”

“I have to agree with Rachel on this one,” Wendy said.

“Fine, Charlie doesn’t know,” Aidan said. “What happens now, then?”

Wendy held a hand up, delicate and graceful. She flexed her middle finger, and from under the nail, a small needle extended out.

“What the fuck,” Aidan said.

“Wow, that’s even weirder in person,” Rachel said.

Wendy gave Rachel a concerned look, but didn’t address it.

“Here’s how this goes. I inject you with the smallest amount of this that I can. It won’t last long, but while it does, you’ll be as strong and as fast as I am, and your body will recover from almost any wound as fast as Charlie might.”

“What if we got shot in the head?” Rachel asked.

“Huh?” Aidan gave her a confused look.

“A healing brain is a problem,” Rachel explained. “Thoughts and memories aren’t physical, they’re electrical patterns and signals. You can’t regrow those.”

“There’s a psychic web,” Wendy said. “Think of it like an impervious mental backup.”

“Impressive,” Aidan said.

“You have no idea,” Rachel told him.

“Alright, so it’s as simple as that?” I asked. “You inject us, we have superpowers, and we go rescue Charlie?”

“Pretty much,” Wendy said.

“And what about you?”

“In all probability, I’ll be gone by the time you get back,” she said. “If not… Well, I won’t have long, at any rate.”

There was a sad, hollow sort of smile on her face. Rachel and Aidan seemed oblivious to it, but I couldn’t look away. I wanted to know so much more about her, and I was only just realising I would never get that chance.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Rachel said.

“Maybe. But I’m not doing it for you,” Wendy replied. “Remember what I said, Rachel. Remember what’s at stake.”

“I know,” Rachel said. “Better than you give me credit for.”

Wendy just shook her head.

“So…” Aidan said.

Wendy stood, moving to his side so quickly I almost missed the movement. He jumped.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked. “The process is not pleasant.”

“How unpleasant are we talk-“

Wendy slid the needle into a vein on his arm, and his entire body just froze up, as if in shock. She pulled the needle out, and he started to convulse, as every muscle in his body contracted and expanded against his will. After a few seconds, he started screaming.

When he finally calmed down, he just lay there, breathing heavily.

“That did not look fun,” Rachel said. She held her arm out to Wendy. “Me next.”

She went through the exact same process, but didn’t scream like Aidan did. She grunted through gritted teeth, but she didn’t scream.

“Last one,” Wendy said. “Will you do this, seeing the results?”

I looked at the other two, sweating and panting, slouched in chairs, barely able to move.

I extended my arm.

“Anything for Charlie,” I said.

Next Week: For Charlie

Chapter 53 – Impossible Is Her Bread And Butter

Published by Rachel Fierro on November 19, 2017

Rachel, One Day Before Impact Day

“What are you doing here?” Sadie asked. The holographic version of her projected onto my glasses folded its arms, pouting.

I knew from what she’d told me that Charlie could actually see Sadie, as clearly as any corporeal person. That had confused me for a while, but so far as I could figure without Charlie herself to test on, what she was seeing was a psychic projection. In reality, Sadie was effectively constructed of a collection of quantum-locked molecules combined in some combination unlike any naturally-forming material, in some impossible state of matter. A fifth state.

It was the closest to a confirmation of the existence of a soul I expected to ever see. Though it was difficult to pull any hard data, the soul particles, as I was thinking of them, seemed to radiate pure energy in a way that entirely contradicted what I understood about the rules of the universe. That energy seemed to be responsible for connecting a soul to a body, and without a body…

She should have dissipated long ago, or more likely detonated, releasing all of that energy all at once. Instead, some impossible force was keeping her together. An impossible force called Charlie.

Regardless, it was that output of energy that let me track her position in the first place. I couldn’t measure the soul particles themselves, but I could measure their impact on the air around them. They didn’t create sound in the sense of vibrations in the air, but it was did broadcast something on a wavelength not dissimilar to the technology behind wireless communication.

All that added up to my ability to track and interact with her, albeit through several complicated pieces of tech I’d thrown together. It was a fun challenge.

“Rachel?”

Oh yeah, she asked me a question, didn’t she?

“I like it here,” I said. “It smells like Charlie. Besides, I figured you could use the company.”

“Shouldn’t you be looking for Charlie?” she asked, with a hint of accusation.

“I told you, I know where she is. I just can’t get to her.”

“Can’t you build some kind of mech suit or something?” she asked.

I laughed. The idea wasn’t actually impossible. Given enough time and infinite resources, I probably could put together some kind of super suit. Unfortunately, I had neither of those things. Still, it was a fun idea for the future. Maybe Charlie and I could be like Captain America and Iron Man. But like, the angsty teen versions.

“I told you my plan,” I said.

“Your plan is stupid,” she told me. “It’s been five months.“

Don’t take the bait. She’s hurting, just like you.

“I’m doing the best I can,” I said, through gritted teeth. “I’ve examined every possible approach, okay? I’m keeping an eye on Aidan and Liz, who are doing everything you want me to be doing. And surprise, they’re failing. Because it will never work, because we’re three teenagers who don’t have any powers between us except a superhuman ability to understand how things work. Meanwhile, there’s a superhuman just sitting around running a fucking café who could just walk right in and pluck Charlie out, and she’s doing nothing. You get it? She’s the best hope we have. And I am working on it.”

Sadie sat there in silence, and I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. My tech wasn’t precise enough to pick up micro-expressions or the nuances of body language.

“What if she doesn’t ever change her mind?” Sadie asked.

“There’s got to be a way,” I said. “I’m not just giving up. I’m not leaving her. I just won’t.”

“…What if I talked to her?” Sadie suggested.

“What?”

“You could use this stuff. Let her see me. Maybe she’d listen to me. Maybe if she knew…”

A smile began to creep across my face.

“Sadie, you have the makings of a genius yourself.”

Wendy frowned as I entered the café, Sadie trailing behind.

“We’re closed,” she said. “And I’m not interested in talking about—” She stopped, and sniffed the air. “What is that?”

“You mean my fancy eyewear?” I asked. “That’s actually—”

“Not that,” Wendy snapped, dropping the visage of pleasantness. “That smell, it’s…”

She approaches rapidly, with that inhuman speed and grace that she usually worked so hard to keep hidden. Astonishingly, she stopped right in front of Sadie.

“Me?” Sadie asked, squeaking in surprise.

“What’s here?” Wendy asked. “Who’s here?”

“Incredible,” I said. “It was your nose that gave her away? That’s gonna have some implications…”

“Who is it?” Wendy demanded.

“Sadie,” I said. “Charlie’s sister. That’s why I’m here.”

I handed her a pair of glasses with connected earphones, a matching set to my own.

“You figured out how to communicate with the dead?” Wendy asked.

“Just one,” I replied. “I don’t have a lot of test cases to work with.”

She put the glasses on, and gasped when she looked at Sadie properly.

“Impossible,” she said. “You should be…”

“Welcome to Charlie’s world,” I said. “Impossible is her bread and butter.”

“It’s nice to meet you…” Sadie said.

“How long have you been like this?” Wendy asked.

“Twelve years,” Sadie replied.

“I think Charlie keeps her stable,” I said. “But it’s getting weaker. I think… I think Charlie’s losing hope. And if she does…”

Sadie stared at me, mouth agape. I hadn’t shared any of that with her. I hadn’t wanted to. But if we were going to save Charlie, we needed to convince Wendy. And if we were going to convince Wendy…

“A single soul contains enough energy to level half the state,” Wendy said.

“Five million dead in an instant,” I said.”

“No!” Sadie said. “No, you never told me that!”

“I didn’t want to,” I said. I wanted to save your genuine reaction for Wendy, I didn’t say.

“I need to get away,” she said. “Far away, where I can’t hurt anyone.”

“It’s not just that,” Wendy said. “Soul energy isn’t like, well, energy. Energy is just a property of matter. Specifically, local matter. But soul energy exists outside of the local space. A detonation of that magnitude could rip a hole in the walls of reality itself.”

“Like to the version of Earth that you come from,” I said.

“Yes,” Wendy replied, confirming my suspicions.

“I’ll try to find a way to contain it,” I said. “I’ll find a way to save you, Sadie. Maybe I can shove you inside a different body, or…”

“No,” Wendy said. “That won’t… Just trust me. It won’t work.”

“Then what do we do?”

“I need to think,” Wendy said. “And you need to leave.”

“Don’t take too long,” I said. “There’s a lot at stake here.”

Next Week: Charlie Can’t Know

Chapter 52 – This Is Some Real Conspiracy Theory Shit

Published by Liz Effe on November 12, 2017

Liz, One Day Before Impact Day

Six months, and we weren’t any closer. Six months of one plan after another failing. Everything we tried seemed to almost be sabotaged. Either that or we had the worst luck in the world.

“What do we do?” Aidan asked, pressing his forehead into his desk. “What else is left?”

“I could try to get in,” I said. “If anyone could…”

“It’s a slim chance, and if you get caught, you die.”

“And if I don’t, we’re out of options,” I retorted. “So fine, I might die. I probably will. But at this point, it’s all we have left.”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted. “If you die, Charlie loses the best chance she has of ever getting out.”

“So what do we do, then?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Do you think Rachel’s making any progress?” I asked.

“I think we’d know,” he replied. “Whatever else she’s up to, she does care about Charlie. She’d do anything to save her.”

We were pretty sure we’ve managed to lock her out of all our systems, but with Rachel, it was impossible to be sure. We always made sure never to be too careless with what we discussed, just in case she was listening.

“What would Charlie do in this situation?”

“Exactly what you just suggested,” Aidan said with a sigh. “Rush in and cause a mess.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “She acts reckless, but I don’t think that’s who she really is. She’s… clever.”

“Not clever enough to keep her from getting caught,” Aidan muttered.

“I said clever, not infallible. But it does make me wonder.”

“What, you think she got caught on purpose?”

“I didn’t say that,” I insisted. “But I don’t want to completely ignore the possibility.”

“Why would she possibly want something like that?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe she thought she could take them out from the inside. Maybe she’s gathering intel. Maybe she wanted the drama. Who knows with her?”

“Okay, let’s assume she did,” he said. “It would stand to reason that Rachel would be in on it, right?”

So much for being careful.

“Most likely.”

“So what does Rachel want? What is she pushing us towards?”

“She’s pretty keen on getting Wendy’s help,” I said. “But she’s also been minding her own business for months now. Mostly.”

“She interfered with that assassination,” Aidan pointed out. “Who knows what else she’s pulling the strings on.”

“But why?” I asked.

“Because there’s only one thing she wants,” Aidan said. “She wants us to go to Wendy.”

“But Wendy already refused to help.”

“Because she doesn’t trust Rachel or Charlie,” Aidan said. “But she doesn’t have a reason to doubt us. And if we’re kept in the dark, she won’t see through any deception or ulterior motive.”

“This is some real conspiracy theory shit,” I said.

“That’s what we’re reduced to,” he muttered. “It’s all we have left.”

“But it doesn’t help,” I told him. “It doesn’t get us any closer to saving Charlie.”

“I guess I’m starting to wonder if we should be saving her.”

“What?”

“I don’t like being a pawn,” he said darkly.

“You don’t know that you are,” I retorted. “And besides, even if we are pawns, even if Charlie is pulling all these bullshit strings that you think she’s pulling… Does it really matter? Would you really abandon her because of that?”

He looked at me, defiance shining in his eyes. Then he deflated.

“No,” he said. “Of course not. I’d do anything to save her.”

“I won’t say I’ve never questioned it,” I admitted. “Some days, I wonder why I even…”

“Love her?”

“Yeah.” I sighed. “I mean, it never really felt like a choice. She’s just this… You just have to, you know?”

“I know,” he said. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve felt…”

He trailed off, and I knew why.

“You can say it,” I told him. “We’re so far beyond judgement right now.”

“She’s supposed to be like a sister to me,” he said. “But I…”

“It’s not healthy, is it?”

“No,” he said, without needing to think about it. “But it’s too late to do anything about it now.”

“Maybe this is just what love feels like,” I said.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It doesn’t feel like that with… uh…”

He shook his head, and turned away from me.

What?

“Aidan?”

“Forget it,” he said. “We have more important things to talk about.”

“Aidan, if you’ve got something to say…”

“It’s stupid,” he mumbled.

“Aidan.”

“Come on, don’t act like you don’t know,” he said.

“I really don’t,” I promised.

“Then let’s just forget about it.”

“After all that build up?” I asked. “Not a chance.”

“Uuugghh.”

“Aidan, we’ve spent six months with nobody else in our lives, desperately trying to find our best friend. Do you really think there’s anything you can’t say to me?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Why?”

“You don’t even like me,” he said.

“What?”

“You never did,” he told me. “Charlie was the only thing that kept us around each other. Even now that she’s gone, she’s the only thing we have in common.”

“Do you really believe that?” I asked.

“Am I wrong?”

“…Maybe it was like that one,” I admitted. “But you have to know it’s different now.”

“I don’t know that.”

“Aidan, you’re the only person in my life that knows I killed someone. Three someones, now. What could you possible have to hide that’s worth than that?”

“I love you,” he said abruptly.

“Wh-what?”

“I know, I know, I’m pathetic,” he said. “Just another sad white boy who falls in love with every girl who’s nice to him.”

“Charlie was never nice to you,” I said, and he laughed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to make this… You know. You don’t even swing that way.”

“According to who?” I asked.

“Well, Charlie is…”

“You’ve never heard of a bisexual?”

“Wait, are you—”

“I never really thought about it,” I confessed.

“Right.”

“You’re special to me,” I told him. “Of course I love you.”

“What a delightfully weird triangle that forms.”

“I’m gonna be honest, I never really thought of you as the, uh…”

“Yes?”

“The loving type,” I said.

“Wow.”

“Not like that! Just like, in that way. Charlie being the obvious exception.”

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah, no, I know what you mean.”

“You do?”

“It’s all very confusing, alright? It feels different to me. It’s supposed to be normal, but I never really wanted anything to do with it.”

“What’s ‘it’ in this context?” I asked.

“Any of it,” he said. “Dating. Sex. For a while, I thought I was gay, because I wasn’t interested in any girls. But I wasn’t really interested in boys either. Or anyone else.”

“So, you’re like…”

“Asexual,” he said. “According to the internet, anyway. “And maybe aromantic? I don’t really know. Like I said, it’s weird. And I guess I’ve fallen in love twice, so…” Just then, his phone rang. “Now? Really?” He answered, and his eyes widened. “Alright. We’ll be there.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“That was Wendy,” he told me. “She wants to talk to us. Tomorrow.”

“You’re kidding.”

“She sounded upset,” he said. “Something must have happened.”

“Should we go?”

“I think we have to,” he said. “This could be the chance we’ve been waiting for.”

“Or the beginning of a trap,” I said.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

I sighed. “Me too.”

Next Week: Impossible Is Her Bread And Butter

Chapter 51 – Until You’re Dead

Published by Liz Effe on November 5, 2017

Part 6 – Impact Day

Liz, Four Months Before Impact Day

I stared at the young woman, unable to shake the feeling that something about her felt off, in a way I couldn’t quite explain. It was like she’d been superimposed over a scene in a movie, maybe? Nothing in the world reacted to her the way that it should.

She wasn’t paying attention to me. Rather, she stood over the body, unperturbed by the sight of it. As I watched, she nodded, and spoke.

“That’s right.” A pause, and then, “Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt.” She had an accent, maybe British. It was strange to hear, like I was hearing it in my mind, not my ears.

She extended her left arm, and without warning, a massive scythe appeared in it, the kind you’d expect to see in the hands of a black-robed skeleton. She swung it, then it vanished again.

A scythe that size, swung at that speed, it should have displaced the air. I should have felt something, but… I didn’t. There was nothing.

“How did you get in here?” I asked, without intending to speak. She turned, slightly surprised. Not to see me, but to be acknowledged by me.

“Same way I get everywhere,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “You can see me?”

“Is that unusual?” I asked, though I didn’t really need to. The answer was implicit in the question.

“Not for the dead,” the woman replied.

I recalled the scythe, noticed again the way the world didn’t seem to acknowledge her presence at all. I felt like I was on the verge of understanding.

“Did I…” I tried to asked, but couldn’t form the words. “Am I…?”

“Nope,” she said breezily. I tried to relax, but relaxing seemed impossible with her around.

“You’re…” I searched for the name. “An angel?”

What else could she be?

“Reaper, actually,” she said, shrugging. “But yeah. I guess that counts? It’s all semantics, isn’t it?”

“You’re here for him,” I said gesturing to the body.

“Yeah, but he’ll keep. I’m more interested in you. Has this ever happened before?”

“I’ve never killed anyone before,” I said, not sure why I felt suddenly defensive.

“Hmm,” she mused, walking closer to me. There was curiosity in her impossibly silver eyes, eyes sparkling and changing like a grey ocean in the middle of a moonlit night. Why did I think that? “Well, this definitely isn’t normal.”

I found myself disappointed. ‘Not normal’ hardly felt like an answer. This woman, this impossible creature, this Reaper, should have been able to explain to her what was really happening.

“That’s it?” she asked, petulantly. “You don’t know what it means?”

The Reaper smiled, and took another step closer. “Let me get a closer look at you,” she said, as she stood close enough to me that I could have touched her, if I had the nerve. I didn’t.

“What are you—” I asked, but was cut off as her hand gently touched my skin. The feeling was strange, like being touched by a statue. Not that it felt like cold marble, more like the sensation of being touched by something that shouldn’t be able to move, to touch. A statue doesn’t touch you, you touch it.

Something within me responded. A chill, a weight, a hunger. Deep in my core. My soul? Was that what she touched?

For just a moment, the sensation overwhelmed me, became my entire world. There was no room, no Reaper, no time or space. There was only that feeling. That hunger. Then it passed, and the world returned, and the sensation slipped through the cracks of my memory.

“Well now, that’s interesting,” the Reaper said, taking a step back.

“What?”

“I can’t tell you,” she said. I bristled.

“Can’t tell me what?”

“That’s all I can say until you’re dead,” she crooned. I wanted to hit her, but I had a strong instinct telling me that would be a bad idea.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“Good.” She seemed pleased with herself. I hated it. “Let’s keep it that way. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Can you help me?” I asked, taking myself by surprise almost as much as it surprised her.

“Uh…”

“My friend,” I said. “She’s trapped. I think they’re…” I couldn’t bring myself to say what I was worried they might be doing to her.

Would this strange help Charlie? She had no reason to, but she might have been the only one who could. Wendy was a non starter.

“What do I look like to you?” the Reaper asked. “I deal with the dead, nothing more.”

“She’s immortal,” I blurted out. Would that make a difference?

“…Dammit,” the Reaper said.

“Will you help her?”

“I should have known,” she said, suddenly angry. “This has Charlie written all over it.”

“You know her?” I asked, astonished. Not that it didn’t make sense. Rather, it seemed very likely that a harvester of the dead would know the identities of those they couldn’t harvest. Even still, it surprised her to know Charlie was as important as she seemed to believe herself to be.

“You could say that,” the Reaper said darkly.

“Please,” I begged, desperate.

“Nothing I can do, man. Sorry.”

“What do we do?” I asked, unsure if there was anything we could do. Everywhere we turned, we hit brick walls.

My world was unraveling around me. The existence of an immortal had shaken me, more so because it was someone I thought I knew intimately. A superhuman entity, lurking in the very same city. Now a Reaper? All of this impossibility, and no way to change the fate of my best friend, it seemed.

“I’d tell you to brace yourself, but…” She smirked. “Well, I’m not big on spoilers.”

“You know what’s going to happen?” I asked.

“Good luck, Liz,” she said, and vanished.

I slumped to the floor. None of this made sense. The world didn’t make sense. I felt powerless, for the first time in a very long time.

Absently, I pulled out the crucifix around my neck, rubbing my thumb against it. Once I became aware of myself doing this, I gripped it more tightly. Is that where I would find my answers, I wondered?

That’s all I can say until you’re dead, the Reaper had told me. What did that mean? What did death mean? For me, specifically?

I looked down at the body on the floor. A life, taken by me. Not an innocent one, but a life I had no right to take. No divine writ. Just a selfish, mortal desire.

I’d always told myself there was nothing immoral about assassinations. We were tools, weapons, not killers. The killers were those who ordered the death. But this, this wasn’t a hit. This was an act of desperation. Was it a sin, then? Would I be punished for it? Did I deserve punishment for it?

I would do it again. I was certain of that. If I’m to be judged on the weight of my actions, I will act with conviction. I owe that to the Lord, at least.

Next Week: This Is Some Real Conspiracy Theory Shit