Chapter 24: Night Shift

Chapter 24: Chapter 24: Night Shift

[I don’t know.]

Jared blinked. "What?"

[I said I don’t know. What happens before the transmigration is successful isn’t in my data. I only wake up after it’s complete.]

"That’s not a good enough answer."

[It’s the only honest one I have.]

Jared lowered the phone slowly. He had expected a joke, or a long, smug explanation, or at least a sarcastic remark. The system had an answer for everything. It had spent the entire day correcting him, mocking him, and filling in details he never asked for.

"You must know something," he said.

[I can tell you what the data suggests. A boy wrote a note, went to sleep, and didn’t wake up. The pattern fits a death. Logically speaking, that’s the most probable outcome.]

"Probable."

[It’s not certain. I can’t confirm it. I don’t know where he went. I don’t know if he went anywhere. I only know that he was here on the 22nd, and you were here on the 23rd.]

Jared stared at the panel.

’Even the system doesn’t know.’

It was a strange, unsettling thought. He’d gotten used to treating it as a kind of oracle, a walking encyclopedia with a bad attitude.

Something that saw everything and knew everything and simply chose to tease him about it. To find out there were blanks in its knowledge, whole stretches it couldn’t see into, made the room feel colder.

’That doesn’t sit right with me.’

’Your response doesn’t seat right with me! ’

But there was nothing to do about it. He couldn’t pry the answer out of a system that didn’t have it. So he exhaled slowly, nodded, and let it go. He would stick with it. He’d have to.

He set the phone on the nightstand, lay back against the pillow, and stared at the ceiling.

He thought about the body he was lying in, the hands he was using, the voice that came out of his mouth.

’It seems so strange. Using someone’s body.’

A cold feeling crept up his spine.

’This is wrong.’

He lay very still. He didn’t know if it was guilt or fear or something in between. He only knew it wouldn’t go away. It sat on his chest like a stone.

His eyes grew heavy. He told himself he’d close them for a second. Just to rest.

The room faded.

* * *

"THIS IS WRONG!"

Jared bolted upright in bed, gasping, the shout still ringing in his ears. His heart was hammering. His shirt was soaked through with sweat. The blanket had tangled around his legs like a rope.

For a second he had no idea where he was.

This second shout hadn’t come right after the first. He had slept in between, deeply and without dreams, and woken up with the words already in his mouth.

[Good morning. It’s evening. It’s night, actually.]

He rubbed his face. "What time is it?"

[Past 10 pm.]

He groaned and swung his legs off the bed. The floor was cold under his feet.

For a minute he just sat there, elbows on his knees, staring at the carpet. The shout kept echoing. This is wrong. This is wrong. Like a bell that wouldn’t stop ringing.

’I don’t feel like myself.’

He didn’t. He didn’t feel like the Jared he knew he was. Mentally he was losing it. Delayed effect of the transmigration maybe or something he’s bringing upon himself just now.

He didn’t feel like the hospital aid, or the boy in the photograph, or anyone at all. He felt like a coat that didn’t fit. Like a house with the wrong name on the door.

’I need to do something.’

He stood up. He yanked a coat from the closet, pulled on a pair of dark pants and his boots, and grabbed the pouch from the desk. He tied it tight to his belt, then slipped the phone and the car keys into his pocket.

[Where are we going?]

He didn’t answer.

He crept down the hall, past Zoey’s door. The light under it was off now. He paused with his hand on the wood, listening to her slow, even breathing. She was asleep. He stood there a moment longer, then stepped quietly down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the front door.

He locked it behind him.

’She’ll be safe. She’ll be fine. She’ll sleep through it and maybe then we can talk.’

Jared knew he wasn’t fine or even ready to talk in his current state. He knew in his current state there was something else he had to do.

The thought felt guilty and necessary at the same time. He tucked the key into his pocket and walked to the driveway. Their mother’s silver car sat under the glow of the porch light. He climbed in, started the engine, and pulled out onto the road.

The city was dark, but it wasn’t asleep.

He’d expected empty streets. Instead, the avenues were alive with neon and headlights. Late night food stalls steamed on every corner. A group of beast masters in guild jackets laughed on a sidewalk, a pair of glowing wolves trotting at their heels. A woman in a bathrobe carried a cage of tiny, squeaking birds across the road. People moved around in this city regardless of the time.

He wasn’t going for food.

He turned north.

"I need to..." he muttered.

[You need to what?]

"I need to..."

[You’ve said that 4 times.]

"I need to..."

[Rex. Take deep breaths.]

He didn’t respond. He gripped the wheel tighter and kept driving. His jaw was set. His eyes were fixed on the road. He would soon arrive at the city wilds.

He’d decided to bring only the Ground Dragon. It was the safest choice. She was the only beast anyone knew he had, and he wasn’t trying to have anyone question him. A new gem would raise eyebrows. A pouch full of them would raise alarms.

It was a strange rule, but he’d picked up on it from the memories. Beast masters who ventured into gates were less likely to be questioned about their new gems. Gates were dangerous, and everyone understood that anything could come out of one. But he hadn’t been in a gate. He had no record. No proof. If anyone asked where his other gems came from, he had no answer, and there was nothing to stop them from seizing the lot.

’One gem. That’s the plan.’

He pulled up to the wilds’ entrance a little after 11.

A tall iron gate stood open beside a small guard booth. A pair of guards sat inside, drinking something steaming from paper cups. Jared rolled down the window and gave them a nod.

"Evening."

"Evening," said the first guard. He squinted at Jared’s face, then at his license. "Rex. You’re the one from the documentary."

"I guess."

"That’s wild." The second guard leaned over to look. "Look at that. A celebrity at the city wilds at 11 at night."

"I’m just training."

"It’s kinda funny, seeing you here by this time." The first guard smirked. "A little sus. You think a little training is going to make you some big shot?"

"I don’t think that."

"Sure, sure." The second guard waved a hand, grinning. "Okay. Suit yourself."

They lifted the barrier.

Jared didn’t answer. He rolled the window up, put the car in gear, and drove through. He didn’t have time to waste on them. He didn’t have energy for it, either.

[Ouch.]

’Don’t.’

[I’m just saying, they were rude.]

’I know.’

Jared drove slowly, hunched forward, watching the road.

After a while, he began to hear sounds.

Rustling in the underbrush. A distant howl. Once, a flash of red eyes in the ditch, gone in an instant.

He eased the car to a stop and killed the engine.

"I’m guessing this is where my mom’s car stops," he said.

[Wise choice.]

"I can’t risk it getting permanent damage."

He stepped out into the night. The air was cool and smelled of damp leaves and rich dark earth. Crickets sang somewhere close. He locked the car, took the red gem from his pouch, and dropped it onto the dirt.

It cracked. Light flared. The Ground Dragon rose into the dark, She gave a low, warm rumble.

"Hey, girl," Jared whispered. "Let’s go for a ride."

He swung onto her back. Her skin was warm and rough, and he found a handhold on the ridge of her spine. She turned her head and glanced at him. Then she started forward, her heavy footsteps thudding softly.

They began a slow, wide rotation, circling through the trees. Jared sat low, scanning the shadows. He wasn’t here for sightseeing. He wanted something to kill, and he wanted it quickly.

’Come on. Show yourself.’

Something moved to his left.

A shape. A blur. A whip of darkness cutting through the air.

A branch struck him across the chest.

It hit like a baseball bat. The air burst out of his lungs and he nearly toppled backward off the dragon. He clung to her spine, wheezing, as a thick, gnarled limb whipped around and lashed at him again. He ducked.

[ManShrub: Enhanced strength.]

"A what?" he gasped.

The shape rose out of the shadows, a squat, bristling thing, as tall as a man and twice as wide. Its body was a knotted mass of branches and thorns, with two thick, root like legs and a cluster of whipping limbs. A pair of hollow knot holes glared at him from where a face should have been.

"A shrub," he said.

[A man shrub. Don’t underestimate it. It has very good arms.]

The ManShrub swung again. Jared didn’t think. He just raised one hand and pointed.

"Fire!"

The dragon opened her jaws. A quick, hot burst of flame shot out, bright and loud. It hit the ManShrub square in the chest and the whole creature went up like a torch. It shrieked, a rasping, creaking sound, thrashed once, and collapsed in a heap of blackened branches.

[ManShrub (lv4)] defeated!

Jared let out a breath.

Then he looked around.

The flames hadn’t stopped. They’d spread. A curl of orange crept from the ManShrub’s remains to a patch of dry leaves, and from there to the base of a nearby tree. Smoke boiled upward, gray and thick. The crackle grew louder. The forest around him was tall and dense and very, very dry.

"Oh no," he whispered.

[Oh yes.]

"Water! Water, now!"

The dragon swung her head and unleashed a rolling wave across the burning patch. It crashed over the leaves and roots, hissing, smothering the flames in a cloud of white steam. In a few seconds the fire was gone. The air smelled of wet ash and scorched wood.

Jared slumped against the dragon’s neck, heart pounding.

’That was close. That was really close.’

"Don’t." He said before the system could come with its remarks.

[You’ve learned so much. Using fire in a forest. A very strategic decision.]

"I said don’t."

[It’s just that it reminds me of something. A certain roof. A certain boy who swore he’d be more careful.]

"I was being careful."

[You set a tree on fire with a burst you didn’t aim.]

He groaned and let his head fall back. The dragon snorted, and he swore she sounded amused.

Then something cracked.

It was a sharp, wooden snap, off to the right. Then another, farther away. Then a third. A rustling spread through the dark, a slow, creeping chorus of snapping branches and shuffling roots, rolling toward him from every direction.

Jared went very still.

"What was that?"

A new panel flickered in front of him.

[ManShrubs detected: 25.]

He read it twice.

"Twenty five." His expression displaying his very real shock.

[Twenty five.]

His shoulders rolled once, loosening. He glanced down at the spot where the first shrub had died. There was nothing there but ash and a smear of charcoal.

"That one didn’t even leave a gem," he muttered.

[Rare drop. Don’t take it personally.]

"Well." He cracked his knuckles. "There’s more than one this time."

He lifted his head and looked out into the dark, where dozens of knotted, thorny shapes were rising from the underbrush. His mouth curled slowly into a smirk. It wasn’t a wild smile, or a cocky one. It was quiet and serious, the look of someone who had finally found what he came for.