Page 17 of Bump


  ***

  It had been an uncomfortable car ride. Ryan picked at the faded cloth upholstery in Vanessa’s Honda as she steered it into the city. He was wearing some of the clothes her father had left when he moved out, and Ryan self-consciously adjusted the sleeves of the blue button-up shirt. The clothes were too big for him, but they had made due. The tennis shoes were old and worn but Ryan figured it was better than the alternative of wearing a pair of Vanessa’s shoes, which would have cut off his circulation entirely. In Ryan’s mind, the clothes situation had turned out rather well, it was the almost-assisted suicide that had kept the silence awkward.

  Things had changed dramatically since that morning. For the first time, Ryan detected a faint glimmer of something that felt suspiciously like hope. When he had awoken that morning, everything had seemed lost. Ryan had felt like the bars had slid into place with a resounding clang, locking him into a terrible life of fear and doubt from which there was no relief. He had scrambled blindly and tried grasp hold of any solution he could come to, and in the moments Ryan had thought would be his last, he was certain of his decision.

  Then however, things had changed. The beast was in him, it was a part of him, Ryan knew that. He could still feel it in his head, the strange mental twinge in the corner of his brain. The throbbing pain in his bruised knuckles reminded Ryan that it was more than just a twinge, but Ryan knew that a twinge was nothing compared to the constant danger of Hulking out and hurting people. Only the moon, the man had said, could cause Ryan to do that.

  Ryan wasn’t sure why he was putting so much stock in the words of a man who had burst into Vanessa’s dining room in a shower of broken glass, but the man had seemed to know what he was talking about. The only thing Ryan was sure of was how little he himself actually knew. If this gigantic stranger seemed to know more, that was good enough for Ryan.

  He had never been suicidal before. Even the word in his head now sounded ridiculous and foreign, a word that he never thought would apply to him. Now that he was out of the moment, looking at the morning in hindsight, Ryan knew his actions had been rash. The guilt had hung about his shoulders like a wreath of iron chains, and the thought of living with both the guilt and a constant fear for the safety of those around him…it wasn’t a life Ryan thought he could live. Now however, he knew the beast was caged, more or less, and that there was a great deal more going on here than he had thought. The guilt still gnawed at him like a dagger in his gut that he couldn’t pull out, but he had decided to try and take this insane day one problem at a time.

  His most pressing problem however, had him stumped. Ryan and Vanessa had been silent during the car ride so far, in fact they had barely spoken since sweeping up the glass and finding Ryan something to wear. He stared out the window at the blur of gray freeway concrete, and took a deep breath.

  “Look, I know saying ‘sorry’ isn’t going to-”

  “No, you look.” She interrupted as she signaled and pulled off the freeway to a downtown exit. “This morning was…everything was screwed up. I know I’m the one that always wants to talk about stuff, but not…not right now. It’s pretty obvious there’s something bigger going on here, and I think we need to focus on that.”

  Ryan was taken aback. Vanessa offering to bury a problem like this was unheard of. It was completely uncharacteristic, and that worried him. He worried that in a moment of weakness he had changed their friendship forever.

  Ryan opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. He didn’t want to talk about that morning, but he knew that deep down, Vanessa did. The two were built very differently, and although Ryan wanted nothing more than to forget what had happened, he knew Vanessa would never let that slide. He also knew she was right: they needed to focus. Ryan figured they could deal with their personal troubles later.

  The man’s parting words had hit them both hard. It was comforting to hear someone on the outside of all this say that Ryan was not to blame for what he had done. Ryan didn’t know if he could trust the man, much less what he had said, but he was glad that someone had said it. It made him feel much less guilty for thinking it.

  “Well I’m sorry for…I’m sorry for showing up on your doorstep all wrecked like that.”

  It had only been a few hours, but it felt like a lifetime since Ryan had knocked on her door that morning. For the first time since she had opened her front door, he saw Vanessa smile.

  “You don’t have to apologize for that.” She said. “As emotionally handicapped as you are, I knew those pent-up feelings were going to get to you some day.”

  “Emotionally handicapped?”

  “You used to turn off Scrubs five minutes early so that every episode would have a happy ending. Emotionally handicapped.”

  Ryan laughed and the sound felt strange coming from him, as if he had never expected to hear a laugh again, much less be the one laughing.

  “And as I recall,” He replied, “you used to go and immediately download all those end-songs so you could clog up your iPod with jangly prog rock.”

  She smiled again and silence settled between them, only this time it was almost comfortable.

  Vanessa navigated the city and they snaked their way toward the park the man had directed them to.

  As they pulled into a parallel parking space, with the park on one side and the busy urban sprawl on the other, Vanessa killed the ignition and turned to Ryan before he could open the door.

  “You and I,” She began “we’ve been through a lot. I know most of it was in the last twenty minutes, but that…none of it has ever changed anything. No matter what has happened, no matter what is going to happen, this friendship, it’s…we’re going to make it. There’s nothing you could do or say or…try to convince me to do…that is going to change how I feel about you. I know it’s been crazy and weird, and I have a feeling it’s about to get a lot weirder, but I think if we hold on to this, we’ll both make it out in one piece.”

  He leaned over the gear shift and hugged her tightly.

  “Thanks.” He whispered.

  They broke the embrace and climbed out of the car. Ryan waited as Vanessa ran across the street to buy a newspaper from a vendor, and when she returned they entered the park together.

  The park was one of the largest in the city, and by far the largest in the downtown area. It was roughly square, with wide, criss-crossing footpaths and a small duck pond at one end that was fed by a tiny creek that ran the length. The dying leaves rustled stiffly in the breeze. The grass here, like the grass in the backyard, was still mostly green. It threw the red, orange, and yellow leaves on the trees into sharp relief and painted a beautiful, multi-colored landscape. The winding paths through the trees were covered in a thin carpet of fallen leaves which added a satisfying crunch to every footfall. There was a bite to the autumn breeze, but the sun was out and shining brightly in a sky dappled with large gray clouds.

  It was close to noon on a weekday, but the park was far from empty. A couple in their mid-twenties walked a dozen paces in front of them. The man had his arm over the woman’s shoulder and she held the hand that draped down. They walked erratically and even stumbled a little when their linked bodies lost sync with their own feet. The woman’s dark hair stuck out of the knit cap she wore and flicked lightly in the wind as the man leaned down to plant a kiss on top of her head. Ryan wondered if that would ever be him. He wondered if his life, whatever it was about to become, would ever be as simple or carefree. He wondered if he’d ever be able to get that close to anyone without putting them in danger. He wondered if he’d live that long.

  There were other patrons that milled about and gave Ryan a much-needed distraction. He saw a mother of two trying to carry one and corral the other. He saw an old man in a flat cap and one too many layers of jacket feeding the birds. He saw a woman jogging to the beat of the iPod strapped to her arm. He saw a man with the sleeves rolled up on his flannel shirt as he hefted down the path a cello in its carrying case. He watc
hed, like someone on the other side of a great glass divide, as the lives of the people all around him went on.

  “Got it.”

  Vanessa had been scanning the morning paper for the article the mysterious man had hinted at. She yanked Ryan down onto a bench.

  “Is this him?” She asked.

  Ryan looked down to see a face staring back at him in the harsh contrasts of newsprint. He shuddered slightly at seeing the face of the man he had killed, but he did his best to focus on what was happening here and now. The photo was small, as was the article, but as Ryan forced himself to look closer, he saw that the picture was actually a mug shot. Vanessa began to read.

  “It says here his name was Frank Spalding…he was out, he had jumped bail on an attempted rape charge. Let’s see…he was standing on a residential sidewalk smoking a cigarette when he was attacked…no witnesses. Here we go: ‘Police are keeping a lid on the investigation, but given the man’s wounds and the nature of the attack, the working theory is that he was killed by a large animal. Authorities say they have no reason to suspect foul play, but when asked if the death could have something to do with Spalding being a known dealer of Vain, the police spokesperson denied comment. Law enforcement entities are urging everyone living in the area to keep children inside after dark and to report to the proper authorities if you see any kind of large animal wandering the streets.’ That’s the end of the article, I think that was the only one.”

  “So why did he want me to read it?” Ryan wondered.

  “Well, doesn’t it make you feel a little better? The guy was a drug dealer and a rapist. I mean it’s not like the monster killed a kid or a nun.”

  Ryan grunted in frustration and massaged the bridge of his nose. “I just need some answers. Where is this guy?”

  Just then a large raven landed on the grass a few feet in front of them. It was jet black: from its beak to its tail feathers to its feet the animal was dark as a moonless sky at midnight. Shining out from the blackness however, were the eyes. They were a deep, arresting shade of violet. Ryan was stared right into its eyes, and the bird stared right back into Ryan’s.

  It took one or two deliberate hops backward and Ryan noticed something strange in the way it moved: there was no avian excitability or alertness. It didn’t hop around continuously or twitch its head to and fro, its movements were more graceful. It took one more hop backwards and Ryan and Vanessa both stood up from the bench to follow it, almost instinctively. Then it took flight.

  The raven swooped and glided, but made sure Ryan and Vanessa never got too far behind. They had no idea why they were following the bird, but Ryan hadn’t forgotten the strange coloration of the man’s eyes. Ryan didn’t know if the bird belonged to the man or if the bird was the man. After the events of the last twenty four hours, nothing would have surprised him.

  Onlookers watched as the two teenagers chased after a large bird that was leading them in a remarkably straight line. Once Ryan and Vanessa got to the edge of the park however, the looking stopped. In the city there were a thousand other things to be looking at, and the raven went unnoticed as it led them across the busy street.

  They didn’t have to follow it much farther before the bird banked a hard left into an alley. They jogged along after it and came to a stop at the mouth of the passageway.

  A liquor store made up one side and a low-rent office building the other. Halfway down, a tall chain-link fence divided the alley in two. On their side, there were doorways without exterior doorknobs, piles of flattened cardboard, plastic bags full of trash set beside overflowing dumpsters, and a cacophony of unpleasant odors. There was not, however, a large black bird with purple eyes. Ryan took a step inside the alley and gave a wide berth to the large puddle at his left. He knew it was probably just rain water, maybe some motor oil, but he didn’t want to think of what other kinds of fluids might be mixed in. He took another step and Vanessa reached out and grabbed his arm. He looked back at her and she gave a tiny shake of her head. Ryan shrugged in response and took the step anyway and her fingers slid off him. He took a few more steps and Vanessa followed him hesitantly.

  The sun was high in the sky and the city was enjoying midday. In the alley however, there were nothing but shadows and smells. They weren’t in the safest part of the city, and even though Ryan had seen, and now even committed, more unspeakable things than any mugger or wino ever had, he stepped cautiously.

  A muffled rustle came from behind the dumpster a few feet in front of them. Ryan’s heart leapt in his chest and he took an instinctive step back, but curiosity kept him rooted.

  The man from the house rose from behind the dumpster and stepped out into the alley, his eyes fixed on Ryan.

  “Thank you for coming.” He began in his throaty voice.

  “You mean you were-” Vanessa piped up from behind Ryan.

  “The bird, yes. That is a very long story and it is not the one that I am here to tell.”

  “Who are you?” Ryan demanded.

  “My name is Daniel. I will answer your questions, but I’m afraid we must do so in private.”

  “How is this more private than the house?” Ryan asked.

  “People dismiss the things they overhear being said in darkened alleyways much more quickly than they do in other places.”

  “And what kinds of things are they likely to overhear?” Ryan pressed.

  Daniel didn’t answer right away. His eyes had never left Ryan’s, not even when Vanessa had spoken up, but now they seemed to burrow even deeper into Ryan. His voice was calm. “The kinds of things they will never forget.”

  He watched Ryan and searched his face for some kind of reaction: a flinch, a quiver, a flash of doubt or fear in his eyes. Ryan did his best to reveal nothing. He had no idea what this man wanted with him. Daniel clearly knew what Ryan had done to Spalding, but he didn’t seem concerned about it in the least.

  “However,” Daniel began again, “that was not quite my meaning when I said ‘private’. I am very sorry, but I have to ask that Vanessa wait in the car.”

  She stepped up to Ryan’s side with her tiny hands balled into tiny fists. “Oh like hell!”

  “I am sorry, but I have my instructions. Ryan chose to tell you of his condition, that was his prerogative, and I would not be surprised if he later relays to you everything I am about to tell him. I, however, cannot speak of this in front of you.”

  “Instructions from who?!” She demanded.

  But before she could ask any more questions or get any angrier, Ryan tore his eyes off the man and looked at her.

  “Please.” He said. He kept his voice even, but forceful. Vanessa wasn’t looking at Ryan, she hadn’t taken her eyes off Daniel.

  “Vanessa. Vanessa.” She blinked once and her eyes refocused on Ryan’s. “I’m sorry,” he continued, “but I have to know.”

  Her scowl turned to frown, but she nodded. “I’ll be in the car.”

  And then they were alone.

  “I’m sorry you had to do that.” Daniel said, and it sounded to Ryan as though he meant it.

  Ryan turned back to face the behemoth of a human being. “She’s gone, now spill.”

  “You have already deduced the largest piece: you were bitten by a werewolf and have now become one.”

  “Is it permanent?” Ryan asked as he tried to keep his voice from shaking. He already knew the answer, but he didn’t want to hear it out loud. In his head that made it all somehow worse.

  “Yes.” Daniel answered. His tone was matter-of-fact, but tinged with the unmistakable sound of sympathy. “But you are not without…options. There are ways for you to weather the curse. To acclimate, to learn to live with it. There are others who can tell you more, that is not my task.”

  “It is now.” Ryan interrupted, the anger rising in his voice. The animal in him had nothing to do with it, the anger was all him. “You dragged me down here without giving me any information. I did what you asked: I’m here, we’re alone,
now I need answers and you’re the one that’s going to give them to me.”

  Ordinarily Ryan would never have taken such a tone with a man of Daniel’s size, but only minutes ago Ryan had been preparing to meet Death. A human, even a giant, shape-shifting human, wasn’t quite so intimidating anymore. Daniel stood firm.

  “I will not.” Daniel replied. His voice was still mild. “I will tell you exactly what I brought you here to tell you and nothing more. It will then be your decision as to what to do with that information.”

  Ryan wanted to retort, the anger of being yanked around still bubbled inside him, but he said nothing. Daniel continued.

  “I have been watching you as often as I can since the night you were bitten. You have a good home, a good family, a good life. I confess I wish that such a curse had not befallen you, but it has and so my wishing is futile. We believe that events are in motion that will change the face of this city forever. You may choose the path that many of your kind have chosen over the centuries: to lock yourself in some crude cage every full moon for the rest of your life and deny your true nature in an attempt to maintain some semblance of a normal existence. Or you may choose to look behind the curtain.”

  Ryan’s anger had all but vanished, replaced instead by a strange curiosity. Curiosity, and dread. “What will I see?” He asked quietly.

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “Such stuff as nightmares are made on. You will see death and pain and you will see these things more than you can imagine, and in ways you dare not. You will come face to face with Perdition herself and you will see her smile as she devours you.”

  The man fished in his pocket and produced two items. “Administer this at sundown, and do not stand when you take it or you may injure yourself.”

  He handed Ryan a small syringe of clear liquid topped with a capped hypodermic needle.

  “What is it?” Ryan asked.

  “An immensely powerful sedative to see you through tonight’s transformation. You will not regain consciousness until the following morning. You will still transform, but you will not feel it and the wolf will be asleep as well. Lock your door…lest someone enter and see you in the state of the beast. When you wake up, the moon will be gone and your body will be human once more.”

  “Then why can’t I just take this at every full moon?”

  “Your body adapts too quickly. This compound is as strong as we can make it and even then it becomes ineffective after one, two doses at the most. As I said, take it tonight, and the next morning begin your preparations for the last night of the cycle. As many and as strong of chains as you can afford. And keep them in good repair.”

  Ryan dropped the syringe into his pocket and looked at the second item in Daniel’s palm: a small white business card with no printing. Instead, it bore a handwritten address in an ornate scrawl: 4197 Mockingbird.

  “The chains will work,” Daniel continued, “and if you prefer, it can end there. Be vigilant of the cycle and of your precautions, and you may die an old man in his bed surrounded by grandchildren.”

  “And if I take this?” Ryan asked, gesturing to the card.

  “Then you will still die, but it will be sooner, bloodier, and unimaginably more terrifying.” He replied.

  Ryan took the card from his hand and examined it. “Well then what’s the upside? Why would I ever take it?”

  And then, for the very first time, Ryan saw Daniel smile. A different sort of glint flashed in his eyes.

  “We will all meet Death, Ryan, that much is certain. The only variable is whether, when our time comes, we are running from him…or at him.”

  Ryan stared down at the card once more and he heard a soft rustle. When he looked up, the alley was empty and Daniel was gone.

  He stared at the card for a long time. There was nothing on the back and nothing but the address on the front. Whatever was at this address, Ryan knew it was dangerous and frightening and not at all the sort of thing he wanted to get caught up in. Yet, Ryan didn’t tear up the card and scatter the pieces in the alley. He didn’t flick it into the dumpster as he passed. He didn’t drop it into the gutter as he walked along the sidewalk back towards Vanessa’s car. Instead, he slipped it into his pocket.

  Ryan looked through the window of the convenience store on the corner as he waited for the signal to walk across the street. The clock on the wall read 1:30PM. His history class had just gotten out.

 
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