101

 

101.  Home

 

Vance stared at the slice of pizza with voracious eyes. Thick cheese dangled off the edges of the green, white and red-striped plate, while the pools of grease that lined its surface gleamed in the afternoon sun.

 

Beyond the wooden bench he sat on stood red maple and eastern hemlock trees, neatly enclosing the small rest stop. Cars whizzed down the four-lane highway that led to the Pittsburgh airport, with some briefly stopping in the tiny parking lot.

 

Across from Vance, Bruce and Winslow sat on the opposite end of the wooden picnic table, devouring their own slices. Dripping from their heads were remnants of the water they’d used to wash the blood off their bodies after they awoke in the public restroom. Their clothes were in tatters, wounds covered their skin, and they were all thoroughly exhausted.

 

The rest stop was deserted, and only contained a small convenience store and a Sbarro’s, a fast-food pizza chain that Vance had frequented often as a youth. Winslow had used what little remained of his psynergy to make a mess in the room behind the counter, then quickly stole three slices with a floating pair of metallic tongs while the tired-looking attendant was occupied.

 

"Damn good pizza," Bruce grunted. “Steal me another two slices, kid.”

 

Winslow sighed. “Just charging my psynergy here makes me feel like my head’s going to split wide open.”

Despite Winslow’s attitude, Bruce only shrugged and shook his head. Exhaustion had taken its toll on him as well.

 

"What happened, anyway?" Winslow asked. "How did we get here?"

 

Bruce wiped a drop of ketchup off his chin and pointed at Vance. “That idiot went apeshit, that’s how. First he tried to rip my head off, then he sucked me into one of those stupid Albavitrean warp holes.”

 

As Bruce spoke, Vance's mind lit up with visions of the smoldering depths of Pandemonium: Bruce in his molten armor, the rage that possessed him, Eden in her shining new form, and his desperate desire to stay with her. With it all came the depressing weight of failure and guilt, which made it hard for him to push the cheesy dough of the pizza down his throat.

 

"I remember that." Winslow gulped down a bite and looked across the table. "Vance, you grabbed Bruce and started screaming a whole bunch of stuff. Then this black spiral started to swirl up..."

 

Vance put down his pizza and opened his mouth. "I must have unconsciously opened up a portal back here. It was probably the first place my mind went to."

 

"Okay. Well, hurry up and open up another one so we can get back." Bruce gobbled down the rest of his pizza and began licking his fingers. "Rose needs me."

 

"Rose needs you?!" As Vance's memories returned, so did his anger. "If you would have just let me get to Eden, then none of this would have happened! Why did you have to fight us?!"

 

"Because you're the enemy." Bruce folded his hands and stared down at Vance with cold eyes. "Your psycho uncle killed the only man I could ever call a father. And I'm going to make him pay, no matter what it takes!"

 

Vance shook his head in disbelief. "Are you seriously still that oblivious to what's been going on?"

 

"Don't even try to argue with me," Bruce said. "Because you're sure as hell not gonna change my mind."

 

"Well, if I did it once..." Vance said shakily, "then I should be able to do it again."

 

"You know what, never mind. You two can stay here for all I care." Bruce stood up. "I'm going to go find Grayson."

 

Vance’s eyes darkened. "You don't even know where he is."

"Bakersfield, California," Bruce said cockily. "That's where the Zexaron base is. And even if he isn't there, I'm sure he has a portal hooked up somewhere. So don't you try and tell me what I know."

 

"Wait! I thought we were the enemy!" Vance called out sardonically, waving his hands. "Aren't you gonna, you know, kill us for the sake of the Zodiacs or whatever?"

 

Bruce turned his back to the two, pausing before he formulated a response. “Fighting in this dimension would just be a pain with the vacuum. I can deal with you later.”

 

Vance's lips curled into a sly smile. "Sounds like you're scared.”

 

Slowly, Bruce turned and threw back a glare. "What did you say?"

 

"I said you're scared," Vance repeated. "You're scared of me now. That's why you're making up some excuse and trying to leave."

 

"I'm not scared of anything," Bruce replied gravely. "Especially not of you two. I can crush you two shitstains whenever I feel like it.”

 

Vance stood up and motioned around to the empty parking lot. "Then do it. There's no one out here."

 

To Vance's surprise, Bruce complied. Losing his temper, the Tiger's body barreled forward, and a weak line of flames sparked briefly from his body. When he reached Vance, he raised his hands as if to squash the young man's head like a grape. Vance flailed and tried to put up a defense, just before Bruce let out a cry of pain. Blood dripped out of his open wounds, repainting his skin with a fresh new coat. Gritting his teeth, Bruce turned his head down and struggled to catch his breath.

 

"None of us are in any condition to fight, let alone run across the entire country," Vance said. "We need to get to a hospital or something.”

 

"Shut up!" Bruce grunted as he dropped to his knees. "I'm not resting until I find Rose."

 

"You can at least heal yourself!" Vance shouted. "I think the Forbes hospital is nearby here.”

 

"That sounds like a good idea..." Winslow murmured, slowly standing up. "I don't feel so good."

 

"I don't know what kind of story we'd be able to tell them," Vance said, "but maybe I can use my old address to get in, and then we can just split later."

 

Bruce struggled to pull himself up and began to walk again. "Whatever. I'm going to find Grayson."

 

"Not on your own, you aren't," Vance said. "We should stay together."

 

"Wait, Vance, I don't know about that..." Winslow's eyes widened. "Knowing him, he'll probably try to kill us in our sleep once he gets better."

 

"He's right," Bruce muttered as he staggered toward the highway. "This is your only chance to get away."

 

"But we're headed to the same place," Vance called out calmly. "I’m after Grayson too."

 

Bruce chuckled darkly. "Suit yourself."

 

Vance fell into stride beside his foe. "Besides, I want to know the details about my mother's death. Why the Zodiacs were after her, what Grayson did to her...everything."

"Well then you're asking the wrong guy," Bruce said with tired grunt. "Because they never invited me to that party."

 

*

 

Night had fallen by the time the three men trudged up the path to Forbes Hospital, the only hospital near Pittsburgh whose location Vance knew by heart. The journey from the travel stop had been long and quiet, as everyone was too frustrated and beaten-up to talk much. The psynergy vacuum had thrown them all completely off balance, and Vance felt like his head wasn't working properly.

 

"So, any ideas on what we should tell them?" Vance asked, as he swung open the door to the hospital.

 

"What else?" Bruce grunted. "We beat the shit out of each other, plain and simple."

 

Vance let out a pained sigh as he held open the door and let the two men pass through. The ER waiting room was a somber place, with nothing but distant voices and beeps echoing off the stark white walls. Olive chairs left over from a previous generation lined the walls, some occupied by zombie-like men and women, others stained and vacant.

 

As the blood-stained trio stepped across the white-and-puce tile, only a few people turned their heads to look. After four steps, Winslow abruptly gave out a groan and collapsed onto the floor.

 

"Hey!" Vance shouted. "Whoa, Winslow, what’s wrong?"

"I figured there had to be a reason why he was being so quiet..." Bruce sighed, leaned over and lifted up the Rooster's body. "Exhaustion and punches are the only things that can shut him up."

 

Two sleepy-looking nurses were seated behind the front desk. When they noticed the three approaching, their eyes became filled with a mixture of concern and confusion. "What happened here?"

 

Vance locked his tired eyes with theirs and took a breath. "We got into a fight.”

 

*

 

When Vance next awoke, he was bandaged up on a hospital bed. Winslow stood beside him, with one arm in a sling.

 

"C'mon, wake up," Winslow insisted, as he began to pull wires off the boy's body. "You don't have any broken bones or anything, right?"

 

"Hey, whoa!" Vance tried to pull himself up through a mixture of aches. "What are you doing?"

 

"Getting us the hell out of here! Hopefully before Bruce wakes up..." he whispered.

 

"Alright, alright." Vance slowly crawled out of bed. "But don't you think it'll be a little too obvious if we just saunter out of here?"

 

"I saw a door to the courtyard that we can probably sneak through,” said a deep, growly voice. “This place isn't secure at all."

 

Vance and Winslow glanced over to the entrance to the patient room. There stood Bruce, bandaged up just as much as the rest of them.

 

“Now we just need to find a vehicle,” he added, sounding significantly less irritated than he’d been before.

 

Vance raised an eyebrow. “You want to come with us now?”

“It’s always better to keep your enemies closer,” Bruce muttered. “Now come on, let’s head to California.”

 

"Fine." Vance winced through the aches as he rose to his feet. "But I need to make a pit stop first."

 

"Where?"

 

"Home."

 

After some more bickering, the young men snuck out of the hospital in the dead of night and escaped to an outlet clothing store nearby. They pilfered some clean, plain clothes there, and afterwards, Winslow used his magnetic force to win them the keys to a Jeep from a used car lot.

 

"Does it have to be a Jeep?" Vance questioned. "We're going to stick out like a sore thumb."

 

"Hey, I think it looks cool." Bruce smirked as he slid into the driver's seat. "Just shut the hell up and let me enjoy this."

 

The Tiger cackled, and soon the Jeep peeled out of the parking lot, swerving left and right down the mountain road as they traveled into the borough of Turtle Creek.

 

"Hell yeah!" Bruce slid his fists around the steering wheel and bounced in his seat a bit. "Hey, what do you want to go to your house for, anyway? Aren't there any pubs around here?"

 

"I just want to stop home for a second," Vance said. "Who knows when I'll ever see this place again. One quick stop, then we can go."

 

"Know anywhere good to eat around your house?" Winslow asked hopefully.

 

"Actually, I do." Vance let out a dry laugh as he leaned back into the vinyl seat. "Never thought I'd be taking you two out to eat, that's for sure..."

 

After another half hour of driving, the group finally reached the residence that had once belonged to the Darcouvers. Vance's old home was a townhouse seated in a hilly neighborhood, purchased by Victoria shortly before Vance was born. He remembered running in the yard, playing hide-and-go-seek in the deep forest behind it, and picking wild flowers for his mother.

 

The house looked exactly the same as he remembered it, but there was something missing: warmth. No car sat in the driveway, and there were no signs of life in the bare, dusty windows. Stabbed deep in the center of the yard was a white FOR SALE sign.

 

Vance opened the car door and got out. "I'll be right back. This should only take a few minutes."

 

Vance glided up along the gravel driveway like a specter as old memories slowly began to fill his mind. After a few glances inside, he realized the house was bare. A few moments were enough for him to visualize every missing piece of furniture from the house he’d spent his entire life in.

 

Birds chirped in the trees that lined the house. Far in the distance, a man mowed his lawn in the setting sun. It looked like a picture-perfect afternoon, yet Vance felt hollow.

 

It all feels so safe when I look back on it... Things were so much simpler back then. The stakes were so low, the scale of my world was minuscule compared to what it is now... Why do memories torture me like this? It makes me want to just drop everything and run away to a place where no one can find me.

Vance stood still, gazing through the window into the empty house. As turmoil bubbled up from within his mind, the comparatively peaceful sounds of surburban life seemed to only mock him.

 

No. I can't run away. It doesn't matter what I try and do...I'll never get that life back again.

 

Vance stomped back to the Jeep with a determined gait and swung his body into the front passenger seat.

 

“We need to make another stop,” he said firmly. “Let’s go, Bruce.”

“Excuse me?!” Bruce roared. “What the hell do you think I am, your own personal chauffeur?!”

 

“Trust me, it’s important,” Vance said. “They got rid of all the stuff I had at home, so Caskett’s journal is long gone. But I still remember where his secret hideout here on Earth was. It’s nearby, and we might be able to find something helpful there.”

“Did you just say Caskett?" Bruce sent Vance a curious glance as he revved the engine.

 

“Who’s that?” Winslow asked from the backseat.

 

"A thief–"

 

"A brave man." Vance cut through Bruce's sentence like a guillotine. "And if I hear anyone badmouth him again, I'm going to kick their ass."

 

"Oh yeah?" Bruce glared down at the teenager.

 

"Yeah," Vance said, turning his eyes back to the road. "Now come on, what's the hold up? I thought you wanted to get a move on."

 

*

 

After stopping at a dingy diner for a greasy bite to eat and using Winslow's abilities to pay the bill with a little magnetic pilfering, the Jeep finally made its way to downtown Pittsburgh. From there, it didn't take long for Vance to guide Bruce to the antique shop, partly due to how much of an impact that fateful night had made on him.

 

By that time, night had fallen, and the dim green glow of the owl lamp in the showcase window once again caught Vance's eye. Instantly, it took him back to that night – the violence, the confusion, and that strange feeling of discovery.

 

Eden and I must have gotten so close to running into each other that night, but we had to travel to a completely different world to finally meet each other. In the end, have I ever had any control over what I find and what I lose? I had a chance to help her back there...and I failed.

 

Guilt sizzled within his gut as Vance walked up to the wooden double-doors of the shop. A shiny new piece of glass had been installed in the window Vance had once broken through so many nights ago.

 

Is someone here? Vance motioned back for Bruce and Winslow to stay in the car, then tried the handle to the door. It was unlocked.

 

Within, the dusty, cobwebbed shelves and display cases seemed just as forlorn and forgotten as he remembered. He slowly scanned the room, searching for any other pieces of Edgar's legacy.

 

Suddenly, Vance heard a noise. He spun around, and struggled to inspect the dim space. As impossible as it seemed, he saw what looked like an axolotl peeking out at him from the corner of a shelf. The creature had light blue skin, pink external gills on the sides of its head, and a tiny green horn in the center of its face. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished.

 

The instincts that had been beaten into Vance's head during the past three months activated, and he scanned the premises for any signs of psynergy. That alone caused a sharp pain to develop in his right temple, but he grit his teeth and struggled to raise his defenses. Only a few steps away from him, behind the largest of the antique shelves, he sensed a sharp psynergy aura that tasted sweet and acidic. For whatever reason, there was a psynergy user lurking within the old store.

 

"Who's–" Vance was startled in mid-sentence as he felt the aura flicker.

 

Another noise sounded, and a woman stepped out from the darkness. She wore a frilly black lace dress with a built-in overbust corset and long sleeves, spiked platform boots and striped black-and-purple stockings. Dark black bangs neatly lined her forehead, showcasing her pale skin and confident smile.

 

"Vance..." she whispered, blue eyes growing wide. "Is it really you?"

 

More of the strange creatures crawled across her body. Vance was frozen, still trying to figure out exactly what was going on.

 

"Come here..." she beckoned with her hand. "I can barely see you."

 

Instead, Vance's instincts told him to do the exact opposite: run. He vaulted over an entire display case and dashed toward the door. He heard crashing sounds behind him and turned back. Salamanders flew off the woman's body to the left and right, crashing through trinkets and shelves in order to try and surround him. As they lurched forward with their tiny appendages, they watched him with beady eyes and dopey, mocking grins.

 

"Vaaaaance!" He could hear the woman calling his name just as he burst through the door. "Where are you going? It's me!"

 

Winslow, who had been watching from the backseat of the car while began to doze off, also watched the spectacle in shock. Axolotls poured out from the antique shop, all led by a frantic Vance.

 

Then, the woman exploded out from the darkness of the store, passing through the axolotls and pinning Vance to the ground with ease. Vance struggled to move as she powerfully straddled him, but this only earned him another pained jolt from overstraining his sore body.

 

"Wh-who are you?" he croaked, finally.

 

The woman leaned down and pressed her full lips to Vance's. Then she happily proclaimed: "Your fiancé!"

Next: Dead Leaves