Akting Out

“Look…”

Angelica was the first to break the mental silence. An hour-long excursion into the Atherean had turned up nothing, literally; the Atherean was eerily, unnaturally silent. Not a single fish, dolphin, or even a shark had presented itself. Beyond that, even the plant life was oddly missing; no brightly-colored flora decorated the pale blue jagged formations that jutted up from the ocean floor.

Nothing was left; as though every life in the sea had been suddenly driven to extinction.

Yet, they were not alone, Reginald knew that. The ever-present tingle at the base of his spine reminded him of that. His eyes darted left and right across the expanse, his breath coming quickly, so as not to give away their position; something was watching them, waiting for them.

Hunting them.

Angelica, behind them, pointed to something that glinted, half-buried in the Atherean’s sandy floor. Reginald followed her eyes and his heart sank; now he understood why Zeus had been so angry.

Jayden, who had taken point, landed first, followed by Reginald, then the ever-apprehensive Lihua and Angelica. “Is that…?” Angelica Reached to all of them, pointing to the long, rusting object. Reginald nodded sadly, pulling the item from the sand. “It is…” He acknowledged. “Poseidon’s trident.”

The weapon had once belonged the king of the seas, Zeus’ cousin. Now, acquiring mold with two of its trines bent out of shape, a cold fear enveloped Reginald; whatever had slain the Poseidon now controlled the Atherean.

“We need to take this back to Zeus.” Reginald Reached, tucking the ruined weapon into his belt at his back.

“Why’re you crying?” Jayden’s tone was accusatory, and aimed at Lihua. She quickly wiped her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not…” Her Reach was meek, “I just…I…”

“The sea king is dead, Jayden.” Angelica chastised, “I think we’re all a little shaken.”

“She’s right.” Reginald confirmed, “The creature that did this is beyond all of us.”

“Poseidon was one being.” Jayden replied, “And my brothers and sisters were unprepared. We’re hunting it now; it’s not going to be able to take all four of us.” His last line was aimed distrustfully at Lihua.

Angelica suddenly looked off into the distance; something had caught her mental attention. The three of them whipped to her line of sight, reaching for their weapons. A school of twenty goldfish lingered, hovering in the distance some fifty yards away. They were in a diamond formation, bobbing in the water observantly.

“Finally, some answers.” Jayden growled. He Reached out to the fish. They didn’t respond.

Reginald felt Jayden’s attempt and reinforced it with his own. Again, nothing.

The fish slowly approached.

Angelica’s Reach was more powerful than all of their combined, and the question was simple enough; “What has happened here?”

Reginald saw horror descend onto Angelica’s face. Lihua’s fists clenched.

The thought was an alarm that blared to all of them. Those are not goldfish!

The fish accelerated.

“Everyone scatter!” Reginald ordered. Jayden went his own way, lunging towards the crimson fish, knife drawn. Reginald drew his axes, darting left, as Angelica began ascending and Lihua merely stepped back, raising open hands.

The fish were quick, and all teeth. Reginald quickly dodged to the right as two fish shot past his left arm, bringing one of his axes down on one of them, cleaving it in half. He could feel Jayden’s bloodlust as the boy engaged seven of them–wiping out five with quick, violent slashes. For a brief moment, Reginald and Jayden made eye contact as the last red-bellied fish fell in two-pieces. Jayden’s smile worried him.

Angelica hovered above all of another seven of them as they approached her mindlessly, baring hundreds of fangs that fit impossibly into tiny mouths. Before they could reach her, Angelica looked to them, blinking, putting her hand at her head–the fish seized in mid-swim, and then floated lifelessly to the floor. Reginald felt a mild twinge at the front of his head, and no longer wondered why Odin and Zeus had insisted upon her coming with them.

Lihua seemed to lose herself in the fray, but her movements were neither wild, nor violent. The water didn’t even react to her. One fish went for her ankle; she merely stepped out of the way. Another tried to eviscerate her, she simply pivoted. She clutched that fish and squeezed, and it was no longer a threat. An open-palm strike to the temple of another fish ended that threat as well. She then waited, exhaling, hands open, as the remaining fish continued to circle her. The peace she exuded belied the apprehension she had shown thus far.

A wave of stale air blasted past all of them, sending Jayden and Angelica tumbling through the water before they recovered. Reginald and Lihua shielded themselves, suddenly buffeted by a water-borne hurricane that came from nowhere. When it cleared, they were no longer under attack.

Instead, Reginald, Jayden, Angelica, and Lihua found themselves looking at a monster. The few fish that remained hovered obediently at its side.

It was pale, sickly, like a well-built corpse. It was muscular, blue veins protruding at various points from its body. Its fingers were thickly webbed, and in its left hand, it carried an off-white trident that matched its skin, and looked as though it could’ve been made of rubber.

It had no eyes, only black holes where eyes should’ve been. A flat, gill-like nose and sharpened yellow teeth. Large, webbed ears completed the creature. It looked like a bastardized version of Poseidon.

And Reginald knew he was looking at the creature that had slain the king of the sea.

“Who are you?” Reginald demanded, trying to mask his fear.

For a moment, the creature said nothing, slowly lowering its head. After a moment, it snapped up, as if suddenly becoming aware of their presence. “Who, me?” He pointed to himself in mock innocence. “I’m Rahab. Welcome to my seas.”

(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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The grassy hills of Mt. Olympus were situated several miles above Heaven, so high that Reginald St. Morias could easily make out its three major cities and scores of suburbs. From here, it seemed both beautiful and conglomerated; Angels were growing wings at younger ages, walking was quickly becoming outdated, and structures were being practically being built on top of each other. Reginald wondered how long it would be before Heaven looked like Asgard; one big marble city with absolutely no walking space.

His thought process was interrupted by the THUNK that had been happening for the last two hours. Exasperated, Reginald slowly turned from the edge of the mountain, back to his young apprentice. Jayden St. Zeneca strode purposefully, jerking what had once been his brother’s knife from the large tree in Zeus’ front yard. He was now throwing from twenty feet away and burying the blade with each toss. As he raised his hand preparedly, Reginald cleared his throat. “You ever stop to think that maybe Zeus likes that tree?” He chastised gently. Irritated that his concentration had been broken, Jayden glowered at Reginald, “I don’t think he’ll mind, Reginald.”

“You want to chance that with someone who can catch lightning?”

As if on cue, a single bolt of lightning, unaccompanied by thunder, struck behind the small thatched hut twenty feet away. Jayden’s look softened, and Reginald smiled. Resigned, Jayden replaced the blade at his ankle. “Not really.”

Reginald smiled, looking warily to the hut. He knew the lightning had nothing to do with Jayden’s activities; Zeus and Odin were arguing, and Zeus had always had a temper…

Reginald barely finished the thought before the brown drapes that served as the hut’s doors were thrown open; Zeus and Odin emerged. There were two women with them, both strikingly beautiful, one tall and tan, the other short, pale, and pensive.

“Sorry for the delay.” Zeus said in a hushed voice, shaking hands with first Reginald, then Jayden. “We had…issues…to work through.” He exchanged a dark look with Odin, who did not appear intimidated. “Meaning we wished to be certain that you knew what you were asking. Do you know what will happen if you are discovered?”

Jayden nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Reginald,” Odin asked, “Are you sure you’re willing risk your family this way?”
Reginald nodded. “They understand. My children play in the Atherean and…” he hesitated, “…Mariah and Bethany were close.”

Odin nodding, understanding. Bethany’s death had been the hardest to bear; it had been hoped she would recover.

“Yang can never know about this,” Zeus seethed, looking directly at Jayden, “You scour the Atherean, find whatever did this to your family, and you…” He looked to the two women, “you deal with it.”

“Sir,” Reginald interjected, “When you say ‘deal with it’, you mean ‘apprehend the murderers’, right?”
Zeus said nothing, only glaring.
Reginald continued, “For a moment, it seemed you were telling a young boy to commit an Unforgivable Act.”
Zues paused before saying, “…no, of course not, unless he felt he had no choice. But if it came to that, I would hope you would not hesitate.”
“Only if it came to that.” Odin said quickly, “Their law doesn’t have exceptions pertaining to Unforgivable Acts.”

“Theirs doesn’t. Ours does.”

“They’re not bound by our laws!” Odin thundered. Again, lightning struck in the distance as the two brothers faced off confrontationally. “My lords,” the tall, tan Angel said, placing a hand on Zues’ shoulder, “We will solve this problem in a way that satisfies everyone.” Her last line was directed at Jayden, who had blood in his eyes.

“Something in the water killed and ate three children.” Zeus seethed, “That is an unforgivable act. One deserves another.”
Zeus stared down at his brother. “Tell me you would not take revenge if you had your wife’s killer before you now.”

Odin said nothing.

“We won’t know how to proceed until we know what we’re dealing with. We won’t know that until we’re in the water.” Reginald spoke firmly, “So the sooner we leave, the sooner we can solve the problem.”

Odin nodded. “Agreed.” He looked to the two women. “This is Angelica St. Mihr,” he introduced the tall one first, whose smile was bright enough to light up Heaven, “and Lihua Fan. They’ll be going with you.”

“Pleased to meet you both.” Angelica beamed. Reginald studied the smaller, pale one, who seemed to shrink under his gaze. “No wings.” He mused. “How long have you been here…?”
Angelica put her arm around Lihua protectively. “She hasn’t been here long,” Angelica replied for her, “But she’s very strong, I promise. She won’t get in the way.”

Reginald saw a fear he could not articulate when Lihua finally made eye contact. She kept her arms folded over her midsection.

Zeus smirked in a way that made Reginald a little uncomfortable. “These girls have gifts. They may save your life out there.”
“They can come,” Jayden growled, finally speaking up, “As long as they stay out of the way.”
“You won’t have to worry about that.” Zeus quickly replied.
Odin glared at his brother for a moment and said to the others, “Do what you must and come home, that is what’s important.” He looked at Jayden, his eyes burning, “Don’t make your parents suffer the loss of another child.”

“The sea won’t get me, sir.”
“I’m not worried about the sea, boy.”

After a moment, Reginald nodded towards the sky. “Let’s go.”
Jayden leapt first, wings outstretched as he took to the air, followed by Reginald and Angelica, who carried Lihua. Reginald wasn’t sure if they would capture or kill their quarry. He remembered the look on his young daughter’s face when he had told her of Bethany’s violent passing. Sadness was not the only emotion in her face; there was also fear; she had been in the Atherean two days prior.

Reginald accelerated to get ahead of Jayden. Whatever had done this would answer for it.

(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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“Are you sure this is safe?” Bethany asked hesitantly, firmly gripping the outside rail of the bridge behind her. She dared to lean over, peering down four miles into the Atherean Sea below. Vertigo quickly set in as the water challenged her; rising and receding quickly. She leaned back against the cold iron railing, checking the multi-colored elastic rope fastened to her waist. Jayce, her older brother to her right, looked into the clear blue ocean as though he couldn’t wait to dive–again. Shirtless, wings pinned at his back, he was nearly hyperventilating with excitement. “Yes, Beth.” He replied, trying not to show impatience. “Look, this was your idea. If you’d rather we took you home…”

“I don’t wanna go home…” Beth objected, shaking her head, mindful that she was grasping the railing. “I just didn’t know how far a fall it was and…”

Darryl, older brother on the left, looked to Jayce knowingly. “I told you she was too little for this.”

Jayce smirked. Beth whirled on her brother. “I am not too little! I’m almost eight!”

Darryl reached down to Bethany, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we try this again, Beth, when you’re nine? It won’t look so scary then…” His tone was blatantly condescending, and Beth scowled. “I’m not scared!” She lied, “Watch, I’ll even go first!”

Darryl and Jayce watched with astonished terror as Bethany threw herself from the bridge, plummeting headfirst towards the sea. They leapt after her, arms outstretched to catch her even as she placed her arms at her sides, accelerating.

She closed her eyes and smiled; the wind frapping against her face, the scent of fresh sea-salt, and the seagulls calling in the distance as though welcoming her…for a moment, she understood why her brothers did this for fun.

Then she nearly forgot what she was supposed to do.

She opened her eyes and outstretched her arms–the water was now yards away and closing fast–she had to focus, focus…thirty yards, twenty yards, ten yards…

Now she could hear her brother’s Reaching into her head, yelling at her in genuine horror, screaming at her to loose her wings, for paralysis was only scant feet away The water was so close that she could perceive stripes of swimming fish…

Something burst from her shoulder blades; her descent leveled out and saved her from what would’ve been a disastrous belly flop–why didn’t the rope break?–and she quickly found herself arcing upwards, forcing her wings to flap, pushing the wind behind her, and rising to safety–

A deafening, bone-crunching impact was heard below as something hit the water with so much force that droplets shot several feet up. Instinctively, she Reached out to her brothers even as she turned…and could only feel Jayce. His attention was now entirely focused on Darryl, and Bethany realized with horror that she had been given the wrong rope; Darryl’s swung lifelessly in the breeze, hanging from the bridge.

Bethany heard Jayce use the knife he kept at his ankle to cut his own rope and fall freely into the water.

Then all was silent.

Not even the seagulls could be heard after a moment. The world went still.

Bethany Reached; nothing conscious came back; only wrenching, horrible agony from deep within the water. She stifled tears as she tried not to imagine how much pain the fall had caused Darryl. Strangely, she could no longer feel Jayce.

Suddenly exhausted as she realized she had not stopped flapping her new wings, Bethany hung in the air and dropped slowly towards the water. She frowned, certain that her eyes were playing tricks; the water appeared discolored as she drew closer, opaque and…

…by Yang, is that a leg…?!

Something exploded through the surface, something that stole the breath from her body. It was pale blue, eight long tentacles that shot upwards towards her, threatening to draw her into an monstrous center that was only teeth. It roared like nothing she’d heard before, like metal scraping against metal.

Bethany tried to flap and push herself away from the thing, but it shot its eight arms downward and rocketed towards her. Terrified, whimpering as the thing came for her, Bethany tried to turn and fly away, but it managed to take hold of her left wing and tore it off, yanking violently to severe the feathery muscles.

Bethany’s vision swam; she couldn’t scream as she fell. As consciousness left her, she didn’t feel the pleasantness that accompanied a body going into self-healing; this was something else, something wrong, as though she would never open her eyes again.

Fear kept her awake, but only barely. The thing eating her was distracted; busy drinking the blood that ran from her wound into the sea. It was down there, waiting for her…what is that thing…

Something caught her; the sudden jolt momentarily brought her back to her senses. She looked up to her rescuer and saw Darryl, a look of pain and horror unlike anything she’d ever seen on him before; bleeding from his head, bite marks on both arms, wings shredded, she could feel a few fingers of his missing…along with one of his legs. He wasn’t blinking; she didn’t even think he was breathing. He was ascending on pure willpower, trying to get them back to the bridge before…

The metal roar erupted from behind them. Bethany looked down and saw that the Thing was coming back for them. Darryl grunted and hurled Bethany up towards the bridge with everything he had. The Thing wrapped a tentacle around Darryl’s waist and yanked him back towards the sea; Bethany managed to cling the railing before watching him dragged under.

Stay awake, she told herself, forcing herself over the railing and collapsing on the other side. She could no longer walk, think…she reached out helplessly to a carriage passing by and was relieved as they slowed down. “Help me…please…”

(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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“Milady, milady, oomph…”
Alyssa half-stumbled, half-barreled through the regal wooden doors of Lady Leeia’s private chambers. Anyone else may have caught the business end of the throwing dagger Lady Leeia kept under her pillow, but the longtime Valkryie Commander had grown accustomed to Alyssa’s haphazard entrances. As such, she merely rolled over and groaned, reluctantly shaking off the last of a deep sleep.
“…Alyssa. Good morning…ooph.” Whatever remained of a pleasant night was ripped away by the young girl’s pouncing on the pristine silk sheets, burying her knees in Lady Leeia’s stomach. Even as Lady Leeia fought to keep her wind, resisting the urge to throttle the child, little Alyssa was carelessly, enthusiastically tearing the covers away. “Milady, you need to see this! C’mon!”
“Okay, okay, Alyssa…may I breathe?” Lady Leeia swung her legs over off the side of the bed and reached up to the wall at her right. She first took down her customized right arm, the one she could turn into anything she wanted, although retirement provided little opportunity to use it beyond anything mundane. After fastening her arm to her shoulder, she quickly donned her jet-black armor. “Now.” Lady Leeia began, “what is the emergency?”
Alyssa, all of five years old, bound over the bed to stand beside Lady Leeia and without hesitation, clasped her artificial, metallic right hand. “Could you please take us to the third wing observatory, please?”
“Okay.” Lady Leeia nodded, “But we’re going to walk.”
Alyssa blanched. “Um, milady? Your way is so much quicker.”
“I know.” Lady Leeia smiled knowingly and held eye contact with Alyssa, “But it looks like such a beautiful morning. I’d rather walk.”
Alyssa lowered her head, nervously biting the nail on her index finger, and nodded. “…k.”
As they exited her private chambers, Lady Leeia was pleasantly surprised to find that things weren’t as bad as they used to be. Unfortunately, Alyssa had learned to run before she could walk, and had never really mastered either. Other Valkryies had been woken by Alyssa’s tear through the barracks and were once again cleaning up behind her, picking up falling busts and replacing the decorative carpets the child had accidentally taken down. The child moved like a tornado but was twice as destructive. The Valkryies threw polite nods at their leader and quick glares to the child.
When they reached the Third Wing Observatory two flights up, Lady Leeia considered letting the Valkryies have the girl. “Alyssa…how many times have I told you not to bother me with one of your moving pictures?!”
“I know, milady, I know. But just watch, please…?”
It was either that or hurling the child through the open window at the left. Lady Leeia chose the former. She didn’t have much taste for the fictional moving images the people of Earth put together, especially the phony-looking battle sequences of their more popular films.
Ten seconds into the film, she noticed this was indeed different. The only shirtless man in the scene engaged another, shorter man with a wooden bear-claw right hand. The lithe, shirtless man attacked with such ferocity and such flawlessness in his technique that Lady Leeia wondered if this might be the real thing. His scream, high-pitched and feral, shook her to the core.
Alyssa smiled at seeing Lady Leeia’s captivation. “You see? You see?”
Alyssa held out her hands and motioned as if pulling something apart. The images split in two, following her hand. This same man was now fully dressed, calmly walking with another, older man in yellow. They were discussing the philosophies of the martial arts…philosophies Lady Leeia hadn’t heard the likes of which since Michael St. Ambrose had come into his own.
There was definitely something different about this man. “Who is this?”
“He was born Lee Jun Fan,” Alyssa replied quickly, eager to please, “But they call him ‘Bruce Lee’ in Amer..Amery…”
“America.” Lady Leeia finished.
“Yes!” Alyssa exclaimed. “America. Milady, I think we should recruit him.”
“For what?! No man can become a Valkryie!”
“No, but a man can train the Valkryies, milady. Uriel St. Morias did, according the libraries.”
“You must not have read to the end of that chronicle and seen how that turned out.” Lady Leeia mused. “I was there. It’s a bad idea. Besides, the Valkryies don’t need training…”
Alyssa grew somber. This next part would be tricky. “Milady…mom.”
Lady Leeia looked down to Alyssa in shock. She hadn’t referred to her like that for a couple of years now. “The Olymparus Patrol has been missing for months. We haven’t talked to the people who live there in almost a year…”
Lady Leeia exhaled. Alyssa spoke the truth. Although centuries had passed since any overt conflict, things had been tense lately near the border. Seven Valkryies missing was a bad omen. “Mom, I know you don’t like to think about it, but what if Yin is back?”
Lady Leeia said nothing, becoming transfixed on the moving picture.
“… If she has, we’ll have to fight…” Alyssa persisted, pointing back at the moving images. “…and if we have to fight, we’ll need people like him to show us how. Please, mom.”
For a moment, Lady Leeia watched the film. Closing her eyes, she nodded. “I need to see more.” She conceded. “If he’s as good as you say, the world will mourn him.”
“The world’ll recover. We’re doing this for them, right?”
“Okay, Alyssa. Return to your studies. I’ll pick up where you left off and let you know of my decision later.”
This story is dedicated to the enduring memory of Bruce Lee.

(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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For a moment, they leaned, in the majestic cylinder atrium. It was dark, pleasantly lit by the millions of stars that dotted the sky far overhead. The brighter stars shimmered above them as if trying to illuminate the mood of the three young angels within the atrium. Michael, the youngest, turned away from the group and braced his head against his forearm, looking out of the open window into infinite space. A comet passed by, whistling as it descended towards a planet they hadn’t named yet. It was as though the universe was in mourning; as it should be.
“So what do we do now?” Gabriel finally asked. He was usually the first to speak his mind, today was no exception. “We never planned for this.”
“We leave his body in repose, and no one ever steps foot in that room again.” Lucifer, the most headstrong spoke up, the wisest of them, “And we begin to cull the herds.”
“What do you mean, ‘cull the herds’?” Michael replied, frowning and turning to him. Lucifer looked at him as though the answer was obvious. “It’s very simple.” His tone was condescending, “We’re the only ones left to watch over this experiment. We make our presence known to the, um, little darlings, and those that don’t fall into line are expunged.”
Gabriel was already shaking his head. “No, no, Lucifer, that’s not what he wanted. We’re not even supposed to know about the experiment, remember?”
“Doesn’t matter. We do. And we’re the only ones left to run it.”
Michael came off the wall and walked towards Lucifer, in the center of the atrium. “No, Lucifer. We’re not going to run the experiment. We wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“I would. I understand how he thought.”
Michael chuckled. “Oh, do you? So he saw fit to bring you in on his plans? Allow you to assist with the world creation?”
Lucifer scowled. “He’s dead now. It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does matter,” Gabriel interjected, stepping up to Michael and Lucifer, “just because he’s gone doesn’t mean we can start running things however we like.”
Lucifer turned coldly to Gabriel and stared down at the young angel. “Why not, Gabriel?”
“Because I said so, that’s why.” Michael shot back. He tried to mask the fear in his voice, but as always, Lucifer saw through him.
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, is that right, Michael? Aren’t I the oldest?”
“Yes.” Michael conceded, “But I was never punished for trying to interfere with the experiment. So I say what’s what. Also…I’m stronger than you.”
Lucifer stepped forward confrontationally. “Oh, is that what you think?”
Gabriel stepped between them, his eyes pleading with them not to fight. Now wasn’t the time. “Guys…”
“We will leave his body in repose.” Michael announced finally, holding Lucifer’s glare, “But we’re leaving the experiment alone.”
Gabriel smiled; Lucifer shook his head. “Who are you to presume to know what he wanted?”
“No different than you.” Michael replied, “But we’re not forcing our will on the experiment; that defeats the purpose.”
Michael looked at Gabriel. “We’ll let them go and see what happens.”
Gabriel smiled his appreciation. Lucifer pointed towards the open window. “If you leave them to their fate, they will wipe each other out, do you understand me?”
Michael was surprised; this was as humble as Lucifer ever was. “We’ll make them aware of our existence, when it’s time.” Michael conceded, “We’ll even guide them along the way, when they ask for it. But what we will not do is force ourselves on them. Their free will is the very purpose of this experiment. We will not interfere with that.”
Lucifer’s shoulders sagged. It was as close to a concession as Michael would get. Lucifer had always been the arrogant one.
“All the energy it must’ve taken,” Gabriel mused, “It was just too much for him.”
Michael placed a reassuring hand on Gabriel’s shoulder and massaged gently. “It’ll all work out. The experiment we’ll go forward. We’ll set up a governing body from here, judge only when they’ve completed their time in the other world.”
“Yeah.” Lucifer growled, “We’ll have to chronicle this too, you know.”
Michael nodded as though he had been expecting that. “I know. “ He extended his hand to Gabriel, who reached inside of his robe and produced a leather-bound book. Most of the pages were empty, save for the first six. They detailed intimately how their father had labored for six days creating the experiment; a magnificent universe teeming with millions upon millions of life. The goal was to see how life evolved on its own.
The entry for the seventh day, the final day, was blank. “What do we put?” Gabriel asked, reading over Michael’s shoulder.
Michael glanced at Lucifer, who turned away. “On the seventh day,” Michael finally said, “He rested.”
Michael closed the book and handed it back to Gabriel. “We’ll make it available to the experiment when they’re ready for it. For now, we have work to do.”

(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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We drive in silence. We were speeding moments ago, not that anyone but the tumbleweeds would notice. Still, pushing a buck ten on a dirt road in a fifteen year old truck may not be the best way to ensure a safe arrival.

He doesn’t say anything to me. He never does, when things like this happen. I always want to ask why he stuck by me for so long. But I never do. If I did, he might leave.

The horizon is reddening as the sun says its farewell for the day, and we’re heading towards it. Fitting, all things considered. I don’t know where we’re going to go. We have gas to get there, though, and that’s all that matters.

My ribs hurt and are soft to the touch. I can’t see well out of my left eye; tends to shut when someone puts their fist into it repeatedly. I guess that’s something I need to work on. It always hurts to breathe for a little while after the work is finished. It’s almost become routine. Make sure you get the winnings. No, I don’t want to go to the hospital. They ask too many questions.

I cough once into my hand. No blood. He keeps driving, not asking questions. I don’t think he’s even blinking this time. I don’t blame him. Things got back this last time around. I wouldn’t be surprised to wake up tomorrow and find him gone. It’s okay. I’ll leave a little money on his clothes just in case.

We’ve worked together maybe twenty times, and there were loads of times I knew we pushed our luck just a little too far, but this last time was it. Someone got our plate—we saw them writing as we hauled ass out of there, that same someone has probably already called the cops. We needed to hurry up and get away from there. But it’s been almost an hour and no black-and-whites have pulled in behind us.

It was supposed to be simple. Just another fight, right? Just me and the other guy. He was the area’s best street fighter, and I can tell you that it was a title well-earned, after spending fifteen minutes getting to know him. Problem was, he was the area’s best fighter, and I was known across three different states. I can brag; I earned the right.

Nando—my silent, soon-to-be- former gopher and driver—had arranged the match because of the huge payday. We met in this little hole-in-the-wall bar in this little hole-in-the-wall town where the population didn’t exceed five hundred, and everyone was counting on their favorite son to make good.

He had a lot of pride, I’ll give him that.
Sometimes, when people watch you work, the cheering stops and the mood grows eerily somber. The only sounds echoing throughout the room are the ones from one man beating the life out of another. It’s ceased to become a spectacle; they are now watching someone die.

I close my eyes. I don’t want to think about it, but it doesn’t work. All I see is him and red. God, I pray quietly, I didn’t want to do that do him. Why didn’t he just stay down!?

Why is winning so important to you? The answer, as always, is almost immediate and comes from nowhere. I open my eyes. Connection broken.
It’s not my fault, I try to tell myself, he knew the rules. He would not stay down. He kept coming. I did what I had to do, that’s all.
That’s all.
I can’t stop the new memories. First, the fists to his kidneys, hoping the loss of bladder control would convince him to stop. Then, the round kicks to the ribs, over and over, hoping the inability to breathe would convince him to let it go. And finally, the uppercut to the Adam’s apple, the one that had stopped him cold, caused his mouth to explode with blood before he collapsed to the floor and stayed there.

Then, fighting against a town of angry civilians who had just watched their hero destroyed. The frozen look of horror on Nando’s face as he looked up at me as though I was the devil himself.
He’ll recover, I keep telling myself, hoping to believe it. He’s strong. He will.

He wasn’t moving. The nowhere voice again, carrying ultimate authority, reminding me that this, too, I will have to answer for one day.
The sky is red, the sun now a massive third of a circle as it continues to dip below the horizon, sending golden streaks through a sky of scattered clouds.
We may be safe in a larger city tonight, but tomorrow, we will have to leave the state. I tell myself, adding one more place I cannot return to a growing list in my mind.

Tomorrow, the sun will rise, I will recover, alone or otherwise. More work will be lined up. More than money will be gambled with. I’ve never tried to understand why I chose this life, or if it chose me, but it is the one I must live, for now.

And so, we continue driving into the sunset.

(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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