The next time I met with Jaxon, I looked at him with different eyes. I’m not sure why that was; the man has proven time and time again that he can be put through the grinder and still push forward…but all the suffering he went through—the very country he fought to protect turned against him—and the belief that his wife had died broke my heart.
He walked into the room wearing jeans, t-shirt, and cowboy boots. He took one look at my face, and let out a groan.
Stop it.
“Stop what?”
Stop feeling sorry for me. I lived through it, didn’t I?
“You did. Now tell me how. Tell me what happened after Skie woke up.”
It was beautiful, just beautiful. Even the dreams I had while I was sleeping next to her were beautiful. That’s why I didn’t want to wake up, but there was this soft voice singing in my ear. I’ve never been woken up by a soft voice singing in my ear, so I figured I might as well crack an eye and see what was going on.
It wasn’t easy. My eyes were heavy. I was very tired. My body had been through the ringer, but that voice kept calling to me. Then I felt the softest touch upon my skin as a hand traced my cheekbones.
I opened my eyes.
Sunlight was streaming through the room. The figure next to me was bathed in light. I couldn’t make out her details, but I was positive the song came from her. I let her finish. I really didn’t have the energy to stop her anyway.
When she was finished, she moved her dark head just a fraction of an inch, and blocked out the sun. I could see my wife smiling down at me. The tubes and wires were no longer connected to her body.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” Skie said. “Where’ve you been?”
I started crying.
“I tried,” I said. “I couldn’t find my way home.”
“You did find your way home,” Skie said. “You woke me up, Jaxon. You woke me up.”
I took her in my arms. I probably squeezed her a bit too hard, but she didn’t complain. She just laughed that laugh I hadn’t heard in way too long. I could feel her smile against my neck, and I started laughing as well.
“We have company,” Skie said.
I looked at the foot of the bed. I saw Dudley. He was standing before us bawling his eyes out.
“Thanks, Dudley,” I told him.
He left the room. When he returned, he had everyone with him. Twenty minutes after that, my parents arrived with Skie’s kids. Against the doctor’s wishes, there was a small celebration in our room. I, of course, was strictly forbidden to join in on the festivities, but that didn’t matter. I kept dozing off anyway, and I wasn’t feeling my best.
“What song was Skie singing to you?”
“Down to the River to Pray.”
“I’m not familiar with it. I’ll have to look it up.”
Skie told me she learned it from the pretty young girl that kept watch over her. She said her name was Sally, but no one in the hospital knew anybody named Sally.
Skie didn’t let it bother her. She was too happy to be awake. She was also energetic. Unlike me, she was able to get out of bed without any problems. The doctor couldn’t explain it. He also couldn’t explain how she got unplugged from all the medical contraptions that kept her alive. In essence, it was like Skie had taken a big long nap, and now she was ready to put her dancing shoes on.
The only thing that kept her in bed was my appearance, something she was very unhappy about.
“Jaxon,” she said. “I’m okay. You should go heal yourself up in the shower. Your broken nose is starting to freak me out.”
I didn’t answer her. I didn’t know what to say.
“Jax,” Skie said with an undertone of worry. “Why do you have an IV in your arm?”
Then she moved the covers off the rest of my body and saw for the first time how skinny I had become through my hospital gown. Her eyes immediately welled up.
“Don’t cry,” I said. “I’m here. I’m alive, and so are you. That’s all that matters.”
“I didn’t even notice before,” Skie cried. “I was so happy to see you. I was so happy to be awake. “
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll catch you up on everything. Just relax a bit.”
She made a move to take my hand. I pulled it away from her. I had kept my hands hidden from her since she woke up in an effort to not freak her out. She tried to take my hand again, and when I still moved away from her, she grew angry.
“Let me see,” she said.
Everyone in the room was quiet. Ivana went to her side and touched her shoulder.
“Maybe this is all a bit much for you right now,” Ivana said. “Maybe you should take your time a bit more.”
“Have you seen my husband?” Skie demanded. “Who the Hell did this to him, and why the Hell can’t he heal?”
Everyone sort of looked at their feet.
Skie got out of bed, and marched over to Miriam.
“Miriam,” Skie said. “I want answers, and I want them now.”
“He can’t heal because he’s lost his powers,” Miriam answered. “Your husband is a normal human being, and so is everyone else. His hair is grey because the age he avoided while he was the Guardian has finally caught up with him, now that he is powerless. The scars, and the overall damage to his body are the result of his imprisonment, and subsequent torture.”
Hardin walked into the room before Skie could gather her thoughts. Everyone looked at him. In turn, he looked over his shoulder. Then he looked back at my wife who was standing before him.
“Did I pick a bad time to visit?” He asked.
Skie began screaming at him. I mean: she really let him have it. She probably called him every name in the book, and when Miriam tried to defend the man, Skie turned on her as well. The bitch-out session lasted damn near thirty minutes, and when it was over, my wife banned both of them from our room.
The festivities were over at that point. Skie asked a nurse for our doctor. Then she got tired of waiting, and marched off in search of him. She wanted to know how bad I was. She wasn’t happy to find out.
The only ones allowed to visit after that were the Regulators, family, and the medical staff. Hardin and Miriam didn’t even try. I think they were too afraid of angering my wife.
As the days went on, I became stronger and stronger. Eventually, I was strong enough to get out of bed, and walk around with a leg brace and a cane. After that, I had some minor surgeries on my hands. They were still pretty useless after the surgery, but at least all my fingers were pointing in roughly the same direction. I was supposed to have additional surgeries, but I refused them. I told everyone it was due to the pain, but in reality, I just wanted to go home.
“Did you get to go home?”
I did. I went home to my family. My days of playing hero were done. I was beat up, busted up, worked over, and pretty much good for nothing at that point. At least that’s how I saw myself.
“I’m a bit confused. The public at large thought you went back to El Paso to continue the fight. There are even pictures of you and the team boarding a helicopter at the hospital.”
Those were body doubles. The powers that be asked us very politely to keep the country in the dark about our status. They also paid us quite a bit for our discretion.
“Can you explain to me the reason for the deception?”
They felt the country would panic if I weren’t holding down the fort. They wanted people to believe their hero was still out there, keeping them safe. Also, other countries needed to believe that as well. If the truth came out, the panic might even spread throughout the world. They were worried about foreign borders closing on Americans.
“I see. So now that Mr. Hardin was back in the captain’s chair, how exactly was he keeping the zombies from breaking out of El Paso?”
Well, that was tricky. Continued operations in the city had been terminated once the Monster turned on Major Crass, because the Monster started killing all the operatives. Nobody was killing the zombies anymore.
Instead, they were feeding them. Since they couldn’t enter the city, they had helicopters dropping out fresh corpses onto the streets in order to keep the zombies from searching out new food.
This was a necessity, but it didn’t make Hardin very happy at all. Of course, I had no knowledge of this at the time. I was a civilian. The Regulators were civilians. We were all busy living out what was left of our lives. It wasn’t much of a life; believe me.
Everyone but Javie was suffering from PTSD. I had nightmares every single time I tried to sleep. They were horrible. Thousands of people reaching out to me for help as the dead closed in upon them. I stood on top of a great hill watching them panic. I turned my back when the dead reached out for them. Their screams would wake me up. I learned to hate sleeping.
Worst of all was when I got home and saw Merrick. Age had caught up to her as well. She was getting pretty long in the tooth when I became the Guardian. The power sort of reversed her age and kept her young.
She wasn’t young anymore. She had arthritis in her joints. She had surgery scars where tumors were removed. Still, she wiggled when I came through the doors. I remember sitting down on the floor with her, and wrapping her up in my arms while she licked at my face.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I asked.
“We didn’t want you to worry,” my mom answered. “After all you’d been through, we didn’t want to add any more stress.”
It couldn’t have been easy for Merrick, but she cuddled in even closer to me when she saw I was becoming agitated.
“You should spend time with her,” my dad said. “I don’t think she has too many more days left in her.”
That was some tough news to hear, let me tell you. In the end, I think she held on as long as she did because she was waiting for me. She wanted to see me one last time. My heart was breaking as I scratched her ears.
Months went by.
Merrick held on, but she was just a bit weaker every day. I spend a lot of time with her. It was my turn to be loyal. I gave her treats. I helped her onto the couch when she couldn’t get up herself.
“How long were you in Ruidoso?”
About six months.
“So you hadn’t been in El Paso for around two years?”
That’s correct.
“How did you enjoy civilian life?”
It sucked. I was in pain all the time, and my dog was dying. I had anxiety attacks at least twice a week. I could barely get around on my own, and I was developing a large gut due to inactivity. I also lost all of my muscle mass due to the starvation, and with my messed up body, I’d never be able to do the running and exercising necessary to gain it back.
I saw a psychologist that specialized in PTSD four times a week. Fortunately, I was a wealthy man. Fighting zombies pays really well, by the way. I give the man credit. He tried his best with the entire team, but we were damaged goods.
I tried to put on my happy face for my wife, but it wasn’t easy. She saw right through me most times. In the end, I went through the motions of living a normal life, but my heart wasn’t in it. I missed the action. I missed the challenge. I hated what my life had become. I was tired of the nightmares, and anxiety attacks. The power had somehow protected all of us from the worst of that shit.
I was also worried about Dudley. He rarely got out of bed. He never showered. He seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into madness. Georgie and Nick were also having problems, but at least Georgie stopped having suicidal thoughts. Javie would visit me daily. It was a short drive for him. The military purchased a small resort in the woods for the team, but Javie was the only one that visited me at my parents.
We couldn’t work. We weren’t supposed to be seen by anyone. The days were long. I couldn’t even go to the veterinarian with Merrick. Time sort of dragged along in our meaningless lives.
Hardin visited one day. I was shocked that Skie didn’t try and shoot him when he got out of his car.
“How are you feeling Jaxon?” He asked.
“How do I look like I’m feeling?” I answered. The truth was I was in a Hell of a mood. At that point, Merrick was unable to get out of her doggie bed. Her time was nearing. Everyone but me thought she should be put down, humanely. They were probably right, but every time I went over to her, her tail would wag. I couldn’t let her go.
“Well, I’m sorry about that,” Hardin said. “I’m sorry about the way everything went down.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said. “You got screwed like the rest of us.”
“I guess I did,” Hardin said. “Can we talk for a bit? Or would you rather shoot me with the .38 in the waistband of your jeans?”
“Doubt I could pull the trigger,” I said as I grabbed a seat on the steps of the front porch. I had problems standing up straight, and I disliked people seeing me all hunched over.
“It’s like this,” Hardin said after sitting next to me. “I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got but it’s not enough. I’m only treading water, and Max is going to make his move soon.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked
“He called me,” Hardin said. “He told me to watch the news tonight. He’s going public with something. When that happens, the shit’s gonna hit the fan.”
“So why are you telling me?” I asked.
“I’d like you to come back,” Hardin answered.
“Are you going mental?” I asked. “Have you seen me? I can barely walk.”
“It would only be in an advisory capacity,” Hardin said. “We need someone that thinks like a Guardian. All we have are military-minded individuals. Guardians think differently than we do. They come up with plans we could never even conceive of.”
“No,” I said. I wanted my old life back, but that didn’t mean I was going to take what was offered to me. Not after all that had happened.
“Well,” Hardin said. “Perhaps you could explain that to the man I brought with me.”
Hardin motioned his hand towards a man in his car. I turned my head to see who else was with him behind the tinted windows and was shocked to see the President of the United States himself walking towards my porch.
I didn’t get up.
The President offered his hand. I didn’t accept it.
“That’s fair,” the President said. “I certainly deserve that. Perhaps you didn’t hear how well Major Crass framed the group of you. The video evidence alone was pretty damning. Then you began shooting the Men in Black agents. How was I to know?”
“You should’ve known,” I said.
The President looked at me. He really looked at me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. I should have known. What happened to you and your team was unforgivable. I wanted to talk to you myself, I really did. My protection detail, however, thought that would be too dangerous. I have failed you, Mr. McQuaid. I will never make that mistake again.”
“The man came here to personally apologize, Jax,” Hardin said. “That has to count for something.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“It’s not for me,” the President said. “The world needs you. If Major Crass is correct, the former Guardian wants to unleash this plague upon the entire world.”
“If things go bad, I’ll help you boys out,” I said. “Now leave me be. My dog’s dying.”
I left them on the front porch, and I went inside to go sit with Merrick. Her tail wagged once again. I got comfortable next to her doggie bed, and she lifted her head up and rested it on my lap. I stroked her ears, and whispered that I loved her.
I forgot entirely about the President and Mr. Hardin.
Max made his move at around 9 p.m. I’m not sure how he managed to get the video to the news station, but inside of ten minutes every station we turned to was covering the story. My family gathered around the television as the anchorwoman set up the clip.
The video showed Max sitting before a desk. I was happy to see that his nose was still pretty messed up. He also hadn’t recovered from the burns Dudley had given him. His hair was gone. The flesh on his scalp was an angry red, and in some places, it peeled away from his skull. I could see that in addition to his metal cheek, he also had a partial metal skull. I then remembered bending my Ti-Lite as I stabbed him, and I figured he was probably thoroughly armored beneath his skin.
“Hear me now, citizens,” Max purred in his weird voice. “I am the man that shall bring about the apocalypse. I am the man that shall create a new world; a world forged in my image. Abandon your weak. Forget about your former lives. There will be no law I do not create. Cities will fall. Governments will crumble. The dead will walk the earth. In the ashes of civilization I will rise, and you will follow me. I am the Monster. My legions will march in three days.”
Somebody cursed. I think it was Skie.
The phone rang. My mom answered it.
“Jax,” my mom said. “It’s Mr. Hardin.”
I took the phone.
“Did you see that?” Hardin asked.
“I saw it,” I answered.
“The son of a bitch is going to attack the borders with an army of zombies,” Hardin said. “He’s going to break them out and let the plague spread.”
“We kinda expected that, didn’t we?” I asked.
“I didn’t truly believe it,” Hardin said. “The possibility was there, but I didn’t really believe it. Who would want such a thing?”
“A madman with an ego,” I said. “Do you know where he’s going to attack?”
“Yes,” Hardin answered. “The same place you used to escape the city. He called me just a bit ago to invite me to stop him.”
“What happens if his army of zombies crosses into New Mexico?” I asked.
“They’re gonna go nuclear if that happens,” Hardin said. “They have a new warhead they want to try out with a large fallout range. If they don’t kill them in the initial blast, they’re hoping the fallout finishes the job. Basically, it’s everything we were afraid of. I have one chance to stop him. If I fail…let’s just hope I don’t fail. Hold on a second.”
I heard Hardin talking to someone in the background but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“This is getting pretty bad.” Hardin said when he got back on the phone. “A number of foreign nations have already begun closing their borders to the United States. They’re hoping that by cutting us off, the outbreak won’t spread to their countries.”
“I can’t say I blame them,” I said. “I doubt it’ll work, but they probably feel the need to do something to protect themselves.”
“Hold on another second, Jax,” Hardin said.
I waited once again while he discussed things with someone in the background.
“All right,” Hardin said. “I need to go. Tomorrow begins the evacuation of all the neighboring areas inside the fallout zone. I need to make sure nothing in the evacuation proceedings will interfere with what I have going on.”
“Good luck,” I said.
“Thanks,” Hardin said. “Let me meet and discuss some strategies with the higher-ups. Then I’ll swing by and see what you think about everything. I’ll also have your family removed from the area to a location of your choosing.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sounds good.”
Truth is I was barely paying attention at that point. Seeing Max again had an effect on me. My thoughts were chaotic. I went over to check on Merrick. She gave her tail a slight wag but she didn’t lift her head off her pillow.
I scratched her ears, grabbed my cane and limped my way to the front door. After opening it, Skie called out to me.
“Do they still want your help?” She asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Shouldn’t there be a new Guardian by now?” She asked.
“I guess so,” I answered, “but there isn’t. Miriam’s not sure what happened.”
“Close the door,” my dad grumbled.
“I’ll be back soon,” I said and closed the door behind me.
This is where things get weird and unexplainable. Outside a storm was brewing in the distance. The wind had picked up, lightning was flashing in the sky. By morning, the weather was going to be nasty but at that moment the storm was a ways off. There was only a slight drizzle.
I made my way down a nearby path and into the woods. I didn’t bring a flashlight. I didn’t need one. The moon and stars were bright enough to light my way. At some point I went off the path and ventured down a valley in an effort to get out of the wind. It wasn’t really smart of me. I was going to have a bitch of a time climbing back up the hill.
The ground was littered with pine needles. My feet were crunching as I made my way through them. I could hear the wind whistling in the trees above me. I had no destination in mind. I only wanted to wander until my head was clear.
Seeing Max again royally screwed me up. This was the man that had my wife shot. This was the man that wounded my teammates, and nearly beat me to death. I wanted to kill him. I really, truly, wanted to kill him. I may have missed being the Guardian before, but that was nothing compared to what I was feeling as I walked through the forest.
The rage I felt as I left my dying wife in the hospital was back. It began in my heart, and crawled through my veins. I began thinking about the nightmares I’d been having. I had failed everyone, and more people were going to die because I wasn’t strong enough to hold onto my power.
I hated myself.
I did. I hated the weakness in my body. I hated the lurching shuffle I was forced to walk. I hated not being able to stand up straight. I hated the ugly, damaged nose I saw in the mirror every morning.
Most of all, I hated Max.
I entered a clearing of green grass. It was an almost perfect circle. I walked to the very center of it and stared up at the moon. I could hear thunder booming in the distance. The sounds rumbled and spread throughout the forest.
I looked in that direction. I watched the lightning flash; sharp etching across the sky. The anger, the hate, and the self-loathing, washed over me. I felt their menace as my useless fingers twisted against the grip of my cane.
I imagined what I’d do to Max if I weren’t a broken man. Different scenarios flashed across my mind. Each of them grew more violent. Each of them ended with his death. I gnashed my teeth as a soft drizzle turned into a downpour that soaked me to the bone.
I remembered holding my dying wife in my arms. I remembered the beating he gave me. I slammed my cane to the ground. I was trembling. My back was hurting me. My leg was threatening to give out. Even my skeleton ached. The pain only fueled my rage.
A final image of holding my bleeding wife in my arms, and I could take no more.
“FUCK YOU!” I screamed out to the nighttime sky. “I gave you everything! I risked my life! I saved people, and this is how you leave me?”
The rain came down even harder. Lightning began to flash above me.
“I fought my heart out for you!” I screamed. “Where are you when I need you the most? Where are you? You coward; you took everything from me!”
Lightning arced down, and lit up the forest. Thunder began to grumble out a menacing warning, but I would not be denied. Not even when the lightning touched the ground only ten feet away, creating a small fire that burned despite the rain.
“I am the Guardian!” I screamed. “I’m not finished! I want it back! I want my revenge!”
Again the lightning touched the ground, and again after that. The hair on my arms was electrified, and standing straight up. The clearing was almost glowing, and my rage was spent.
“I was a fool for doing your work,” I grumbled, and limped away.
Now, I’m not sure how I got my powers. Maybe it was some mysterious entity. Maybe it was a Sasquatch. Maybe it was an alien. Maybe it was God. Maybe it was Mother Nature. I don’t know. Miriam doesn’t know. Nobody knows, but I’ll tell you this, whatever being was responsible finally started paying attention. They also seemed to be a bit pissed off.
More lightning strikes hit the ground in front of me, one after another. I was a bit worried at how close they seemed to be getting. I even backed up a tad but it did me no good. The fourth strike hit me square in the chest.
It wrapped me up in its electrified grip, and squeezed the Hell out of me. I was shaking and screaming. I levitated eight feet from the ground. All I saw was the bluish-white light. I wondered why the strike was lasting so long. It should have hit me and vanished. Instead, the damn thing was sticking around to torture me.
Blackness.
I woke up in my bed with no memory of walking home. I felt hung-over. Maybe I had a few drinks, I couldn’t remember. Skie wasn’t in the bed.
I couldn’t find my leg brace or my cane. I grabbed a decorative walking stick and used that instead. I made my way out into the kitchen. Everyone had gathered there. All of them were looking sullen.
“Is it Merrick?” I asked.
“She’s suffering now, Jax,” Skie said. “It would be cruel to keep her any longer.”
I left the room and went to my dog. There was no tail wag to greet me. Her eyes were open but she couldn’t focus. Tears filled my eyes. I sat down beside her.
“After all the things we’ve been through,” I said. “Who would have thought?”
I started petting her. She didn’t even look at me. I talked to her. She didn’t respond. Her breathing was labored. Her mouth was hanging open. Skie was correct; keeping her any longer would be cruel.
“What do you think?” My dad asked.
It took me a bit before I could answer him without blubbering.
“Let me take a quick shower, and we’ll go.”
I don’t know why I wanted a shower. Perhaps it was because I smelled like burnt hair. More likely it was just my way of delaying the inevitable.
“You’re not supposed to go out in public,” my dad said.
“I don’t much care about that right now,” I said.
Reluctantly, I left Merrick’s side and limped my way to the shower. My heart was breaking. I’ve lost dogs before; it sucks tremendously. Skie tried to hug me. I brushed her off gently. I wanted to be alone with my grief.
In the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. My cheek scruff had gotten a bit charred. I took the clipper, and ran it over the stubble, cutting off the burnt tips. After that I wet my hand and washed away any loose clippings still clinging to my face. My hand ached like a son-of-a-bitch.
As I turned on the water to the shower, my face began to itch terribly. I assumed my skin was sensitive around the burns, so I pushed my face under the warm water of the shower. The itching intensified. I also felt a tremendous pressure in my sinuses.
My hands came away full of grey whiskers after rubbing my cheeks. My nose began to bleed, and the pressure in my nose grew stronger.
SNAP
POP
I could hear the cartilage inside my nose rearranging itself. I cursed out loud. It hurt like a motherfucker. Large drops of blood fell to the floor of the shower. I found myself getting light-headed. I grabbed out at the tiled wall in order to steady myself but the sudden stabbing pain in each of my hands made that impossible.
In the back of my mind, I knew what was happening but that didn’t make it feel any better. The crunching bones in my hands laughed at the pain in my nose. The screams came at that point. I couldn’t help myself. The pressure on my bones would build and build only to release in a break as they refitted themselves into their correct positions.
My knees gave out.
Consciousness was lost for the briefest of moments, and the water fell directly on my wounded knee. The pain is almost indescribable. Seriously, how do you explain to someone what it feels like to grow back the damaged cartilage in your knee? I’m not sure I can. I swam on the edge of awareness. My brain wanted me to go to sleep, but the pain was having none of that.
Skie was banging on the bathroom door.
She was asking me if I was all right.
“Give Merrick a bath,” I shouted through gritted teeth.
“What?” Skie asked.
“Just do it!” I shouted. “Put her in the tub and pour water on her.”
The pain spread out from my hands and knee. It circled around my hip and danced along my spine. I heard every bit of it. I felt every bit of it. The pressure was too much. I wasn’t as strong as I used to be. When my spine began to crack, I finally passed out, and I wasn’t complaining.
I woke up to screaming.
I also woke up feeling like a brand new man. I laughed out loud and found my feet. A loud ruckus was going on at the opposite end of the house. My family was running from something. I went to the mirror and wiped away the condensation.
The face that looked back at me seemed ten years younger than the last time I saw it. The grey stubble and hair had been replaced by light brown. My nose was no longer misshapen.
I flexed my hands. They were a little stiff, but they worked just fine. The scars and burns all over my body had vanished. In their place was healthy pink skin. I was still pretty skinny, but the slight impression of muscle was now evident. Unfortunately, the paunch that hung over my waistband was still there, but even that had begun to shrink away.
I heard my dad laughing. I heard the sound of a table being turned over, and then I heard the giggles of multiple people.
I stepped out of the bathroom.
I went to my closet and dressed in running shorts and a t-shirt. I then threw on some shoes, and stretched.
I was smiling from ear to ear as I stepped out of my bedroom. The smile turned to laughter as soon as I entered the living room. A soaking wet Merrick was chasing my family around the living room. Skie was rubbing her butt where she’d evidently been nipped.
Gone were the signs of age Hell-bent on claiming her life. The dog once again had the energy of a puppy. Her paws scrambled against the hardwood floors of the cabin as she tore around the room.
“Merrick,” I called out.
The dog stopped in her tracks.
“Come see Daddy,” I said.
Merrick ran towards me at full speed. She jumped from five feet away, and I caught her out of the air as if she were weightless. I laughed, and wrestled around with her on the floor. From the corners of my eyes I could see everyone watching us in disbelief. They wanted answers. I was too hyper to give them.
“I’m feeling much better,” I said to their astonished faces. “I think I’ll go for a run.”
I didn’t wait for them to say anything. Instead, I scooped up Merrick and bolted out the front door, a soft rain greeting us, as we jumped off the front porch. The rain was a friend. The living, beating heart of the forest was our ally, and we tore off through the mud.
I wasn’t nearly what I used to be. That became evident almost immediately. My speed was off. My reflexes were slower, and I got tired. But I was running! I was running, and jumping, my way down the trail. I wasn’t one hundred percent but I was on my way. It takes time for the power to settle in. Waiting a few months wouldn’t be a problem. I was running again.
We ran to the clearing.
There was no evidence of lightning strikes anywhere. Not even the smallest bit of burnt grass could be found. Perhaps I dreamt the entire thing. Perhaps the Guardian power recoiled inside my mind after I was told Skie had died, because I truly gave up at that moment. I lost my will to live, and perhaps the rage I felt upon seeing the Monster on television brought forth the power once again.
I have no idea. I also don’t care. For good or bad, the power was once again mine. I had work to do in the near future. My mind was already churning. However, the moment was mine. I gave myself one day in which to play, and I wasn’t about to waste it.
I had gotten my breath back with the brief rest. I wanted to lose it again. Calling out for Merrick, I tore into the woods. I didn’t need a trail. Trails were for pussies. Around trees we went: jumping, sliding, crouching. We ran fast. Merrick did a lot better than me. I’m not sure how she managed to stay in respectable shape despite her advanced years, but she was embarrassing me.
I had to stop frequently. When I did, I would lie back in the nearest patch of grass and watch as the living tendrils slowly climbed up my body. A few hours before dark, I took a nap. My heart wanted to keep on running, but my body had reached its limit.
I fell asleep in the forest with Merrick resting beside me.
The sun was slipping past the horizon when I woke up. The grass released me from its grip as I stood. The rain was pouring, and a soaking wet Merrick looked at me rather grumpily for resting so long.
We ran.
We ran all the way back home. I didn’t stop: not even when the burning in my chest became almost unbearable. I wanted to push myself. The freedom was what I sought. The thrill of moving fast through the wet forest: I loved it.
I hit the path at a dead run. From there, it wasn’t far to my parents’ cabin. As I stepped from the forest, I saw the team all standing there in the rain on the muddy driveway. Each of them looked at me as the rain drenched their clothes. None of them said a word.
I joined them.
We stood in a loose circle. Thunder boomed above us. Lightning flashed over our heads.
CRACK
BOOM
Georgie smiled. He then raised his fist over his head.
“REGULATORS!” He shouted.
“REGULATORS!” The rest of us echoed.
We were back. We didn’t need to discuss things. We were ready to go. The horrors and regrets inside our minds had quieted down. We were back with a vengeance.
I looked towards the cabin. I saw my wife looking out at me from the window. I told the boys to wait as I went to her.
She was washing the dishes as I entered the kitchen. The rest of my family was nowhere to be found. She heard me walk in but she didn’t turn around, a bad sign.
“Skie,” I said. “Don’t you want to talk to me?”
“Nothing I say matters,” she said.
“It does matter,” I replied.
“Is this why you stopped your physical therapy?” Skie asked. “Is this why you refused all the surgeries even though they would help you with the pain?”
“I think so,” I said. “At least, I hoped my powers would return.”
“So now you’re back,” Skie said. “I love that. I really do. I’m happy for you. Of course I am. All you did since I woke up was mope around. I did my best, but a normal life isn’t enough for you anymore. You’re only truly alive when you’re out there risking your life fighting monsters.”
“I’m the only one that can,” I said.
“So what?” Skie said.
“I need to go,” I said.
“Why?” Skie asked. “Why does it have to be you? Why not just take your life and run? Let someone else deal with the nasty things out there. I saw what they did to you, Jax. I saw your body. I saw the hurt. How do you expect me to let you go?”
“Because everything I do,” I said. “I do it for you. I do it for my family. I do it so you can sleep safely at night.”
“I don’t care about that,” Skie screamed as she threw a glass across the room. “He beat you. He hurt you. I don’t want you fighting him again. I don’t want you to get hurt. Why do you rush off so eagerly to face him again after what happened?”
“How could I not?” I asked. “How can I let him live after what he did to you? I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time I close my eyes I see you lying there covered in blood. I couldn’t wake you up. I kept trying but you wouldn’t answer me. I see that, and I can’t go on. I see a man that hurt my wife and I can’t go on.”
“He’ll kill you,” Skie said and walked out of the room.
I stood there for a bit and collected my thoughts. I cleaned up the broken glass. My dad walked into the room.
“She needs time,” he said. “She was getting used to the idea of having you around all safe and sound.”
“I guess so,” I said.
“Tell Dudley and the rest of that bunch to take their shoes off before they come in,” my dad said. “Your mom will be pissed if they get mud all over her floor.”
The team brought booze, lots and lots of booze. Before I knew it, the shots were flowing, and the jokes were rolling out. We were laughing. We were pounding drinks. Georgie was so happy he was literally jumping up and down. Eventually, he made the mistake of humping Nick’s leg. Nick, in turn, smacked him on top of his head, which led to Dudley smacking Nick in the balls. All of that led to a free for all.
My mom came running into the kitchen. She didn’t want us rough-housing inside. Things ended up getting broken that way. Dudley tried to give her a shot. She refused, but my dad came into the room behind her, with no thoughts of turning it down. The kids eventually ventured into the party. Merrick was happy to see them and began running in circles.
The doorbell rang.
Ivana walked into the cabin. All of us cheered out for her and raised our glasses. The poor girl was crying. She made a beeline straight for me, and held my face in her hands.
“My favorite boy,” she said. “I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t dare to hope.”
I heard later that as soon as Georgie hit the shower and got his powers back, he ran up and down the hallways screaming about how the Regulators were back. Word had spread pretty fast after that, though the boys didn’t stick around. Instead, they made a beeline straight to my parents’ cabin to see what was going on.
“You need a shot?” I asked.
“I need a million shots,” Ivana said as I threw her over my shoulder, and made my way over to the liquor.
Two hours later, the doorbell rang again.
Miriam walked in. She smiled when she saw us.
“I knew this day would come,” Miriam smiled. “I knew it in my heart. I can’t tell you how happy I am.”
“Somebody pour her a shot,” Dudley said.
The party continued. We were loud. We were rowdy. We told jokes. We told stories. We made up for lost time, and we had a great time doing so. It got late. My parents and the kids went to sleep. The rest of us continued.
At one point Dudley tried to convince Miriam into letting him color her hair. In turn, Miriam threatened to turn him into a rat. Javie broke out the music and began ripping his shirt off. Nick started crushing beer cans on his forehead, and Georgie began moaning about wanting a fine glass of wine.
“Whiskey is for bad asses,” Nick growled. “Bring up wine one more time, and I’ll shove a wine bottle up your ass.”
“Beer is for high school kids,” Georgie laughed. “I’m a classy motherfucker, you beer chugging pantywaist.”
Georgie farted loudly.
Nick threw a beer bottle cap and hit Georgie in the forehead. I jumped on Nick’s back, and started riding him like a bull as everyone counted out eight seconds.
Skie entered the room.
Her eyes were puffy. She was wearing a t-shirt with my emblem on it. Everyone quieted down immediately as she grabbed a beer and proceeded to chug. When she finished half the bottle, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and raised her bottle into the air.
“REGULATORS,” she screamed out.
Everyone cheered as she ran over and jumped at me. I caught her easily and spun her around. She was smiling that big smile of hers. My heart was singing.
“Still mad?” I asked.
“I know the man I married,” Skie said. “He’s not a quitter, and I love him for that. It just took me a few hours to figure things out. Now make me a promise. I won’t ask you to not do anything stupid. I know you better than that. Instead, I’m asking you to return to me. I want you to survive this battle. I want you to come home.”
“Silly girl,” I said. “Haven’t you learned anything yet? I always find my way home to you.”
Skie tilted her head back and laughed heartily. I spun her around the room. I kept kissing her cheeks as she giggled merrily. This was my wife. This was my life. I had it back. The future would be tough but the present was upon us, and we were going to celebrate.
The party raged on for another two more hours until a soft knock was heard upon the front door. Dudley let Hardin into the room. He was smiling broadly and carrying a wooden box.
“Wow,” Hardin said. “I don’t even have the words. I won’t stay long. I know I’m unwelcome. I only had to see for myself.”
“Balls,” Skie giggled drunkenly. “You’re as much a part of this family as everyone else. Grab a drink, and get after it.”
Hardin did as asked. He partied with us. I couldn’t remember seeing the man unwind before. As far as I knew, all he ever did was work. It was strange seeing him clap the boys on the shoulder and join in on their jokes.
“Awe,” Javie said in his best Brad Pitt impression. “What’s in the box?”
Everyone looked at the box.
“Yeah,” Dudley said. “I was wondering about that myself. Then I drank some more and forgot all about it.”
“Best to leave the man and his box alone,” Georgie added. “I’m personally uninterested in his vibrator collection, and have no desire to hear all about it.”
Hardin laughed.
“This here is a gift for Jaxon,” Hardin said. “I found it on the wall of Major Crass’s office.”
I went to the box. Something about it kept drawing my eyes from the moment Hardin walked into the cabin. It was a plain box, stained a light color. The gloss on the wood was of the highest quality, and it even reflected the light a bit. The two hinges popped open with a slight creak. I lifted the lid.
My fingers twitched. I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. The metal had been refinished. I couldn’t see a scratch. The handle had been replaced. The new wood was pale and waxed.
My tomahawk.
The weapon called out to me from a bed of velvet cushioning. My hands were shaking as I reached for it. The handle felt warm. The metal felt alive.
“I sent it down to our weapons team,” Hardin said. “They were more than happy to fix it up for you. Even went so far as to polish it up and everything. Made them a little nervous to handle it though, I’m not sure why. Where’d you get that thing anyway?”
“To tell the truth,” I said. “I can’t really remember. I’m sure I ordered it somewhere. I just can’t remember ever doing the ordering.”
“Well,” Hardin said. “There you go. I thought you might want it back.”
“Oh fuck yeah,” Georgie said. “Now we’re talking. Let’s see the Monster deal with that shit.”
“I’ve got the dirt on the Monster as well if you want to hear it,” Hardin said. “Major Crass held out for a while on that score, but eventually he cracked.”
I heard Hardin. I was interested in what he was saying. Yet I had been reunited with an old friend. I needed a moment. I took a practice swing. I tested the weight. I tested the balance. The tomahawk sang with each swing. I smiled.
“Let’s go somewhere and talk,” I said.
That somewhere ended up being my underground bunker. The girls and Merrick stayed behind. The team, Hardin and I went to talk.
We all pulled out a seat at the table while Georgie made coffee. Playtime was over. I was in the mood to work.
“Tell me about Max,” I said.
“Every read any Mary Shelley?” Hardin asked.
That had to sit a bit. Of course I had read Mary Shelley. I knew immediately what Max had become. But I didn’t know the how of it.
“Who’s Mary Shelley?” Nick asked.
“She’s an author,” Dudley said.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Nick asked.
“She wrote Frankenstein,” Javie said. “Are you trying to tell us that the Monster is the Monster from the book?”
“Not really,” Hardin said. “He’s had many upgrades that the original creation never had, but he was created in the same way.”
“How did Major Crass do this?” I asked.
“The original Monster was created using two different items,” Hardin said. “Black energy and Ichor: mix them both together, and there you go. You see: Ichor is a fluid that stops decomposition and infection completely. Black energy is an energy source that behaves very much like traditional electricity, but it can only be used to power a body.”
“Where did you send Crass after I beat him up?” I asked.
“We sent him to the Arctic circle,” Hardin answered. “It was a punishment: a horrible job investigating some tunnels that had been discovered. Evidently he found something in those tunnels. He shared what he found with a scientist at his station, and together they created the Monster.”
“I don’t get it,” Georgie said. “How did they get a hold of Max’s body?”
“I’m not sure about that one yet,” Hardin answered, “But somehow they managed.”
“Wait a second,” I said. “Let’s go back to black energy and Ichor. How does all of that work?”
“Sometime in the late 1700’s,” Hardin said. “A depressed scientist began experimenting with fresh corpses. The first thing he did was pervert electricity into something that would power a corpse. Now, don’t ask me to explain how. I’m not a scientist, but he created what we now call black energy. However, this wasn’t enough. The bodies were still decaying because they weren’t truly alive. For that, he needed Ichor. Momo believes Ichor was created from that black fluid the vampires like to drool.”
“So that glowing disk over Max’s heart was his power source?” I asked.
“Yes,” Hardin said. “That disk created the black energy that powered his body.”
“I destroyed that disk,” I said.
“The body can survive up to twenty four hours on the left over charge,” Hardin said.
“Max wasn’t the same,” I said. “He seemed comprised of a bunch of different pieces.”
“All made possible by the Ichor in his veins,” Hardin said. “With Ichor, you could mix and match all sorts of body parts together and make them work. You can also add metal body armor under the skin, without fear of killing the host.”
“That’s why fire got to him,” Nick said. “Frankenstein doesn’t like fire.”
“The Monster isn’t called Frankenstein,” Javie said. “Try and read a book every now and then.”
“Whatever, asshole,” Nick said.
“Geez,” Dudley interrupted. “How awesome would that be? You could basically upgrade yourself whenever you wanted to.”
“It wouldn’t be awesome at all,” Hardin said. “The creature isn’t alive. He doesn’t feel things like a human being. He functions, but he feels very little. Pain means almost nothing to him. Only fire can create a strong enough sensation for him to feel.”
“So how do I fight him?” I asked.
“You don’t,” Hardin said. “We’ll get a big enough gun and tear him to pieces with the bullets. Not even a Guardian can fight a creature that feels no pain, has no weaknesses, and won’t get tired.”
“He’ll get tired twenty four hours after you pull his battery out,” Georgie added.
“Yes,” Dudley said, “but who can fight him for that long? Mr. Hardin is right. We need to either light him up or blow him to pieces with the guns.”
“How strong is he?” I asked.
“The original creature was incredibly strong,” Hardin answered. “Max seems to be an upgrade from the original, so I won’t even hazard a guess.”
“He gets his strength from the Ichor in his veins, doesn’t he?” I asked.
“That sounds pretty accurate,” Hardin answered. “You can’t bleed him out either. Ichor is thick. It doesn’t flow like blood.”
“Jaxon,” Dudley said. “You’re not going to fight him. You don’t need to. We’ll take him out at a distance, okay?”
“Yeah,” I said only because I didn’t have a solution to the problem…yet.