Chapter 12

PRESENT

2020

“You’re the worst map reader I’ve met in my entire fucking life.”

Angel twisted the map for the ninth time that minute and Jenarius stood by, leaning on a wall, with his arms crossed over his chest.

“That’s your personal problem,” she grumbled hotly.

So maybe she didn’t know which way to find the Shaman, so fucking what? She would figure it out because that’s what she always did.

The night had come and gone, it had taken the time for sleep with it and replaced it with the sun that hovered high above them- like always- a reminder that they were running out of time.

Jenarius kept staring at the calendar on the wall. He felt as though October 12th was just a breath away, a moment away, and he hated it. He glanced at his boy, the reason why he kept on, who was still sound asleep under the red covers.

Angel had been watching him the entire time.

“Don’t worry about him,” she warned. “We’ll save him.”

“Focus on your map work,” he snapped.

Angel, for once, kept her mouth shut and did as she was told.

She didn’t have to fight and they didn’t have the time to. They would have to find a way to meet the Shaman and then travel to Massachusetts in time to keep The Mist inside the Wishing Well. She pinched the bridge of her nose and released a breath of air.

So much tension.

So much anger.

So much annoyance.

But this was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? This was what she had left her foster home for, her future for, to save this boy she didn’t know.

Was it revenge or was it just boredom?

She had spent every moment since she was eight dreaming and obsessing over the destruction of The Mist only to find herself letting her life go for a demon that had moved on from her. She told herself it was impossible, though, and Jenarius was living proof of it. Twice he had been attacked by The Mist, by his daughter, and it would happen again and again until his son was dead.

“What’s his name?” Angel asked randomly.

Jenarius had sat down on a bed and his thoughts had wondered to which gun he would allow Angel to hold when she spoke up.

“Why?”

She shrugged, “I’m here trying to save a boy’s life. I’d like to know who I’m saving.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, “Harvey Jenarius Hughes.”

Angel nodded and a small smile played on her lips.

“What?” he snapped in annoyance.

She grinned, “Just so selfish of you to name your son after yourself.”

“Not what you think,” Jenarius rolled his eyes and stood to his full height. “His mother came up with that.”

Angel nodded thoughtfully.

“What about you? What would you have named him?”

He had never thought of the question or the option before. His mother had cared for him, loved him and died for his life; something Jenarius would always blame himself for. He had no right to even be the boy’s father and he definitely didn’t have a right to want to or attempt to change the one thing left that Harvey’s mother had given him.

“I love his name,” and it wasn’t a lie. “I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Angel barely knew him, barely even cared to, but there was truth in his eyes when he said the words. She could see it.

“Now,” Jenarius sighed, “have you found it?”

Angel sighed heavily, “We’ll just go to where I found the last one. In Indiana.”

Jenarius scowled at her.

“And if we don’t find him?” he snapped. “We risk Harvey’s life for nothing.”

Angel knew he was right but she didn’t think there was a right or wrong choice anymore.

“Don’t be stupid,” she retorted, roughly. “The Mist will find you anywhere you go, you already know that. Us going to Indiana might save Harvey. There are so many Shamans there who still know what we’re dealing with. Who can help.”

“Why are you doing this, anyway?” Jenarius snapped. “What the fuck is in it for you?”

His veins ticked on his forehead, he locked his jaw and glowered at her.

Angel flinched at his tone. She hadn’t expected such a hoarse voice to rise to such a pitch.

“I just want to help him,” she desperately glanced at Harvey. The best excuse she could come up with.

Jenarius read through her lies.

“You’re a little slow if you think I’ll believe that,” he laughed, it wasn’t out of amusement. “Tell me what you want from us. Now.”

Angel had been keeping it in like a dam she had accidentally swallowed. She stepped right up to his face, those dumb and fearful but also angry eyes, and glowered right back up at him.

“I want revenge!” she yelled. “I want him to pay for what he did to us, to me, for all the days I felt alone, for all the nights I couldn’t sleep, for all the times I drank to get through the day- for everything!”

Her blood boiled hot, brown hands shook, her pretty eyes started to water as the fire she had held at bay- for too long now- was set free.

“Can’t you see?” She cried out. “They have taken our lives, our meaning. Anything that ever-made sense is dead. We have to live in fear, I am alright with it, but I won’t let myself live knowing he’s doing it every year to people like us, Jenarius, people who don’t fucking deserve this pain!”

She sucked in a breath and brushed at her cheeks with her left hand. She turned, facing away from the older man she had just dramatically yelled at, and smiled apologetically at a frozen, wide eyed Harvey, who had woken up because of the commotion.

“Sorry kid,” she said softly.

Harvey awkwardly shrugged.

Angel faced Jenarius again and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You don’t care?” she shrugged, “That’s fine with me. I thought you’d want to help save your child, and all those other kids. I don’t have the guns-,” she roughly shrugged her shoulders and dropped her hands- “I’m not going to force you to get into my car and risk your son’s life. You’re the last victim who The Mist isn’t finished with yet, you are also my only hope.”

She felt her jean pockets for her car keys. Once sure they were there, she turned around and moved to the door. She opened it, just a peep, and then glanced back to wave a final goodbye at Harvey.

“Be brave, kiddo,” she smiled but it was sad. Jenarius noticed.

Harvey nodded his head.

Angel opened the door and came face to face with a bloodied youngster.

He looked ordinary from his shoes, those trendy high tops she saw on kids all the time, and his low hip grey jeans and t-shirt didn’t alarm her. It was the sight of those familiar pitch-black eyes, that knowing smile, and the black wisps of mist behind his back.

Angel stifled her scream, took a step back and reached for a throwing knife she had forgotten she was carrying. The knife flew past the door, skating in one direction, and easily slid through the forehead of the possessed boy.

He didn’t drop. He only continued to smile.

“Nice to see you again, Jen,” the kid said in the familiar echoing voice all three of the victims in the motel room had heard before.

Jenarius shoved a frozen Angel aside and pulled the trigger of his shot gun. His whole body jerked backwards from the force of the kick as the bullet was released from the barrel. He shot the kid right in the face, black eyes popping out of their sockets and hanging from empty spaces like empty balloons, but the kid was still talking.

“I’ll find you,” the echo got deeper, the echo got louder, “I will always find you.”

Jenarius shot him again, and this time, he dropped dead to the ground.

Angel stood beside Jenarius’ shaking body, shielding Harvey from the sight, and together they watched as a black swirl rose from the body of the blown-up kid on the ground.

It moved up, into the air, and sailed away with the wind towards the clouds.

Angel turned to look at Jenarius just as he turned to look at her.

Something was exchanged between them, call it trust or respect – who would care to put a name on it in such a moment? - but they both knew that a decision had been made.

They were going to fight The Mist no matter what it took.