The Cupid War (12 page)

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Authors: Timothy Carter

Tags: #teen, #teen fiction, #young adult, #humor, #afterlife, #young, #fiction, #youth, #flux, #romance, #paranormal, #adult, #love

BOOK: The Cupid War
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22

T
he bus ride out to Ryan's place was too long for Fallon's liking, even though it only took twenty minutes. He was also feeling annoyed because he'd been unable to climb onto or off the bus without Trina's help. It only had the one step, but that was enough.
He'd hoped that stair climbing would have come with the ability to shield himself, but no such luck.

Trina hadn't even asked if she should skip school to accompany him. To her, this was the right thing to do, and Fallon was deeply proud of her.

When they arrived in Ryan's neighborhood, Trina led Fallon from the bus stop to the nearest side street
. “It's one of these,” she said, pointing at a trio of houses in the cul-de-sac. “That one, I think.”

“Are you sure?” Fallon asked her.

“I only came over the one time,” she admitted. “And it was night. But I'm positive it's one of these three.”

“Okay. I'll check them out,” Fallon said, and he walked quickly over to the first house and vanished through the front door.

Two minutes later he reappeared.

“Not this one,” he said, together with the unspoken prayer that he would never walk in on old people having sex ever again.

The next house was a lot more promising; Fallon entered into the living room and saw photos of Ryan on the wall. He searched the main level and found no one, but he heard voices when he reached the main stairs. Susan Sides. She was here, and she was with Ryan.

Fallon ran at the stairs, and was in up to his chest when he realized he still couldn't do it. He backed out of the stairs and concentrated on meshing his foot with the atoms of the first step, but it simply wouldn't work. He needed a person to take him up. He needed Trina.

“I need your help,” he said as he came back out through the front door. “She's up there with him, and … ”

“ … you need me to get you up the stairs,” she finished for him. “No problem, let me … oh. Spoke too soon. It's locked.”

Fallon couldn't believe he hadn't thought of that. He tried to think of a way around the obstacle, and was about to suggest she break a window, when he saw her pressing the doorbell.

“Stop! Are you nuts?” he said. “Now she knows we're here.”

“Now she knows someone's here,” Trina corrected. “She doesn't know who. And if we're lucky, Ryan'll come answer the door to find out. Or she'll come, and I'll deal with her.”

Once again, Fallon was impressed.

“You'd better do the talking,” he said. “She'll sense me if I'm too near.”

“Then get lost,” Trina said. “I can handle Susan.”

Wanting to stay as close as possible, Fallon ducked back inside the house and hid himself in the living room. He watched the stairs, expecting to see someone coming down at any moment. A minute passed and nothing happened, so Trina tried the bell again. Fallon moved into the main hallway to see if he could hear anything.

“ … don't need to see who it is,” Susan was saying. “Who'd be coming to see you at one-forty? It's probably just some door-to-door loser.”

“I still wanna check it out,” Ryan said, his voice weak and with more than a trace of desperation.

“Oh, no, mister, you stay in bed,” Susan said. “I have to take care of you.”

Crap
, Fallon thought as he darted back outside. “She's not letting him out of the room,” he told Trina.

“I'll get his attention,” Trina said. “I'll be back.”

She hurried around the side of the house. Fallon walked back inside, wondering what Trina was up to, and saw her reappear in the backyard. As he watched through the kitchen window, she tossed a small pebble that struck one of the upstairs bedroom windows with an audible clonk.

“What was that?” Ryan asked.

“Stay in bed, I'll check,” Susan said, but Fallon could hear the sound of rustling bedclothes.

“It's Trina,” Ryan said.

“What does she want?” Susan said, and there was an edge to her voice.

She suspects something's up, Fallon thought.

“I'm gonna go let her in,” Ryan said, and his footfalls left the bedroom.

“No! Tell her to go away,” Susan said as her footfalls chased his. “You don't need her, you've got me!”

Now she sounds desperate, Fallon thought. He liked the thought of that. He moved in closer to the stairs and crouched down to get a view of the upstairs landing. He saw Ryan appear, but before the boy could descend the stairs, Susan grabbed him.

“Stop,” she said, her hand on his chest. Ryan, who already looked like a miserable wreck, depressed further and slumped to the floor.

She's zapping him, Fallon realized, feeling equal parts anger and frustration. He was so close, yet not close enough.

“See? Look at you,” Susan said. “You can't even stand. Let me take you back to bed. Trina will go away, and you can call her later.”

Ryan breathed out heavily. He really didn't look like he could stand, let alone get down the stairs to let Trina in. When she knocked on the door, however, he tried. He pulled himself free from Susan's hands by sheer force of gravity, then slid the first few steps down on his bum.

“Ryan!” Susan called as she went after him. Ryan pulled himself down using the banister while Susan tried to snatch hold of his shirt.

They were close enough. Fallon stepped into the staircase, right into Ryan's body, and projected a force field of Love. It was similar to the shield he'd used to block Louis's power, but composed of Love instead of his life force. Susan stumbled into the shield, fell forward, and landed right on it, her face inches away from Fallon's own.

“You!” she snarled, and Fallon nearly laughed. He couldn't believe she'd actually snarled!

“Out of my way!” Susan shouted, hammering her small fists onto the shield.

“Not this time,” Fallon said, and he expanded the shield outward by a meter. It happened so suddenly it threw Susan backward, up the stairs onto the landing.

Fallon smiled widely; it felt good to defend himself from—and fight back against—Susan's power. She stared down at him in surprise and shock. Now she knew she had a fight on her hands.

Behind him, Fallon heard the front-door lock unclick. Good for Ryan, he thought.

“Ryan!” Trina cried as she flung the door open. “Ryan, it's gonna be okay.”

“Help me up the stairs, Trina,” Fallon said. They could take care of Ryan later. Right now, Susan was the priority. He backed out of the stairs and let Trina pass him, then slid his hand into her heart.

In that instant, Fallon knew Trina's entire emotional landscape. She was pissed at Susan, and still felt a lingering sadness from when Susan had touched her. Trina was also very concerned for Ryan, and relieved that they'd got here when they did. Was she interested in Ryan? If so, Fallon had set them up. It was the least he could do.

But, first things first. Trina advanced up the stairs toward Susan, pulling Fallon along behind.

“Stay away from me,” Susan said, scrambling back to her feet. She looked scared. Good, thought Fallon.

She turned and ran for the bathroom. Trina ran after her, but Susan slammed the door in her face and locked it.

“Don't worry about it,” Fallon told Trina. “I can take it from here. You go take care of Ryan.”

“Watch yourself,” she said, then she headed back down the stairs.

Fallon, the floor now solid beneath him, stepped forward through the bathroom door. Susan cowered by the toilet; Fallon produced his shield and expanded it, flattening her against the wall.

“You're finished, Susan,” he said.

“Ricky, please,” she said. “What are you going to do to me?”

Fallon opened his mouth to tell her, but no words came out. He had no idea what to do with her. Projecting Love at her hadn't worked before, but that was really the only way to stop a Suicide. In order to destroy her, he would first have to get rid of her human body.

And that meant killing her.

He looked into her eyes and saw the fear there. He could do it; he could use the shield to crush her against the wall, but he was no killer. He wasn't capable of cold-blooded murder.

Susan looked back at him, and the fear was replaced with amusement.

“You can't do it, can you?” she said.

Fallon responded by pressing her harder. It had to be done—she had to be destroyed. If he didn't do it, how many like Ryan would be subjected to a slow, painful death? She wasn't going to stop, and he couldn't protect everyone from her.

He had to kill her. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

“Fallon!” Trina called from downstairs. “Look out!”

He turned just in time to see Owen leap through the door toward him like a guided missile.

23

F
allon fell backward through Susan, Owen tackling him around the waist. They both passed through the bathroom wall and out the side of the house, plummeting to the ground. Fallon landed hard in the backyard, taking the brunt of the impact. Owen, cushioned by Fallon's body, rolled off him and climbed shakily to his feet.

“I'm starting to really dislike you,” Owen said.

Fallon might have responded that the feeling was mutual, but before he could, he took Owen's foot in the guts.

“I don't know how you got out of Limbo,” Owen added, “and I don't much care. You've crossed the line, big time.”

Fallon was uncomfortably aware that, while he could shield himself from energy attacks, physical punishment was another matter. He tried to get up, and made it as far as his hands and knees before Owen kicked him down again.

“Stop this!” Trina yelled, running from the side of the house and placing herself in front of Fallon. “Leave him alone.”

Owen laughed and kicked through her, catching Fallon under the chin.

“Get lost, sweetie,” Owen said. “There's nothing you can … hey! Cut that out!”

Fallon saw Trina waving both hands in and out of Owen's face. It couldn't hurt him at all, but it was obviously distracting. Fallon clambered back to his feet and was about to launch himself at Owen when someone slammed into him from behind. Two sets of hands grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet. Fallon recognized them—Walt and Joe, the ones who'd thrown him into Limbo.

“What is this?” he asked.

“You just close your mouth,” said Louis, emerging through the backyard hedge. Trina saw him, and had just enough time to register fear on her face before Louis blasted her in the chest.

“No!” Fallon shouted, struggling hard against his captors as Louis let Trina have it. She screamed but he didn't stop; the deadly bolts kept coming. Louis's face remained neutral, as if he were merely watching the news instead of instigating torture.

Fallon remembered his shield abilities and projected a field around Trina. Louis stopped his barrage, leaving Trina panting on the ground.

“Look what he's doing,” Fallon said. “He's attacking a teenage girl! Don't any of you think that's wrong?”

“Boy needs some softening up,” Louis said.

“Yes, sir!” Owen replied, walking over to Fallon with a look of pure evil pleasure. He threw a fist hard into Fallon's face; Fallon fell to one knee, his head reeling. Walt and Joe laughed and hauled him up again, and Owen threw another punch.

Fallon staggered against his captors but didn't pass out; it seemed his body wasn't able to. It also didn't seem inclined to break. His head absorbed the impacts, but it wasn't damaged much by them. The pain was as intense as Fallon expected, however. And if his body couldn't break or lose consciousness, Owen could take shots at him for as long as he wanted.

Source, Fallon thought, if you can help me, now would be a really good time …

“I think he gets the message,” Louis said, then blasted Trina once more.

Fallon tried to project a shield but couldn't, and then a kick to his stomach made him forget everything else but his pain. He fell to his knees, and Owen reared back his leg for another punt.

“Stop!”

Fallon looked up and saw Jada rushing up to him. Louis pointed and fired a bolt at her, but then Caleb appeared and put himself in front of the discharge.

“Stop this,” Caleb said as the shock waves coursed all over him. Louis stopped, but he did not lower his hand.

“Get out of here,” Louis said. “This isn't your business.”

“Louis … ” Caleb said dangerously.

“That's an order!” Louis snapped.

“Stop this,” Caleb said.

“I'm not warning you again,” Louis said, his hand aimed at Caleb's chest.

“Neither will I,” Caleb replied, and he charged. Louis fired, but the blast barely slowed the bigger man down. Caleb barreled into Louis, and the two hit the ground and rolled into the house.

“Owen, let Fallon go,” Jada said.

“No!” Owen replied. “This is what he deserves, Jada. I caught him trying to kill a girl.”

“Like Louis was doing?” Jada said, pointing down at Trina.

“She'd been helping him,” Owen said simply.

Jada looked over at Fallon, and her face wrinkled. Fallon guessed that, even though he couldn't break, he obviously didn't look at all pretty.

“Owen, what are you doing?” she said. “I never knew you could be so … ”

“Get lost, Jada,” Owen said. “I'm not done.”

Owen reared back his leg for another kick. Jada stood in front of him and said, “No. Don't do this.”

Owen put his foot back down. Then he grabbed Jada by the shoulders and threw her to the side.

“Oh, you did not!” Jada said, climbing back up. “You did
not
just … ”

“I said get lost!” Owen said, trying to shove her again.

Jada deflected him with her left hand and drove her right hand fingers-first into Owen's left eye. “Uh uh,” she said, as he screamed and reeled backward. “One shot at me's all you get.”

She followed up with a side kick so fast that Fallon barely saw her move. The blow knocked Owen off his feet, and he landed clutching his face. Jada gave him no time to recover; she walked over and grabbed one of his arms and twisted, then planted a foot on his back to keep him from moving.

“Not much fun being on the receiving end, is it?” she said. Owen swore at her, so Jada twisted his arm even harder.

“Havin' a little trouble with the lady, Owen?” Joe asked, and Walt snorted with laughter.

Great, Fallon thought. Not only are they brutal and evil, they're sexist, too.

“Should we help him out?” Walt asked.

“You boys think you can … ” Jada said to them, then looked over their shoulders at something.

“Aw, don't fall for it,” said Joe.

And that was the last thing he ever said. He and Walt suddenly went slack, all their muscles failing. Fallon fell from their grip; he crawled forward, then turned over to see what was going on.

Susan Sides stood behind them, her hands in Walt and Joe's backs. Her face was one of ecstasy, as if she were having the biggest orgasm of her life.

Walt and Joe slumped to the ground. Susan followed them down, her hands never leaving their hearts.

Fallon looked over at Jada and Owen, who stared at the sight with equal parts shock and horror. Fallon knew for certain that Jada had never really believed him about Susan. She did now, though. The evidence was staring her in the face.

“Let me up! Let me up!” Owen begged, and Fallon actually thought Owen might run to his friends' aid. Instead, the second Jada released him, he scrambled to his feet and ran off in the other direction. Jada shouted after him, then turned back to the situation.

“Fallon, what is she?” she asked, her voice on the edge of hysteria. Walt and Joe had lost their physical forms now, just like the Suicide that Fallon and Caleb had stopped. Their souls appeared, shining brightly—until Susan grabbed them. Their lights dimmed and greyed over, taking on the Suicide's astral aspect.

“She's a living Suicide, like I told you,” Fallon said as he crawled toward her. “Killed herself and became a Suicide. She was revived in a hospital.”

“How do we stop her?” Jada cried, firing Love bolts that had no effect at all on Susan. “How do we stop her?”

Fallon had no idea. He knew they should run—they'd be next, otherwise—but then he saw Trina lying facedown in the dirt. If he ran, she'd be Susan's next victim.

Susan opened her eyes and her hands, and the two souls drifted aimlessly. At the same time, Caleb flew out through the wall of the house, blasted by one of Louis's bolts. He collapsed next to Trina, groaning. He did not look good.

Susan stood back up, looked at all of them, and smiled.

“This … is … awesome,” she said.

Source, please get us out of this, Fallon thought, as Susan started toward them.

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