ASCENSION (6 page)

              Jake pointed to the crowd. “I just want the girl. You can keep your winnings.” Jake started to walk out of the ring towards the outcry. A large man stepped in front of him, folding his arms.

              “Get out of my way,” Jake warned. He felt the fire inside him gurgle. The man did not budge.

              “The fight's not over!” a skinny man said, waving a wad of money. “I've got two weeks’ wages riding on this, boy! You know the rules, Ben: it ain't over ‘til one of ‘em gives up or can't get up.”

              Jake heard the girl scream once more. Two liquor-sodden men were pulling at her clothing, cackling all the way.

              “Give us a little look, just a peek,” one said.

              “Girls like that don't just give looks. They like for you to take them,” the other man said, his eyes glimmering greedily.

              Jake could feel the ill intentions of the men around her. It ate at him like an acid. He was running out of time.

              Jake pushed past the man in front of him, then felt a fist crash into his chin, splitting open his lip. The copper twang of blood rushed into his mouth. Jake tensed up, waiting for the inner animal to come unshackled, but it did not. Instead, Jake struck out with his own fist, not the monster's. Perhaps it had been his imagination, but Jake had sworn the fist he threw was glowing. The strike was solid, landing perfectly centered on the side of the tall man's head. The man collapsed into a heap. The crowd fell into a hushed awe. “Move!” Ezekiel barked, and the crowd obeyed, parting wordlessly.

              “Get off of me!” the girl cried as Jake approached. The man tugging at her shirt only laughed. As Jake went to grab him, however, the girl picked up a bottle off of a nearby table and cracked the man across the face with it. The man cursed and staggered backwards.

              “She broke my nose!” he choked out through tears. “She smashed it all to hell!”

              “Touch me again and I'll break more than that!” the girl spat. Her ferocity impressed Jake. She was a fighter too, but of a different caliber. Her skin was glowing like the full moon. Staring at her, Jake had almost forgotten what he was doing.

              “Someone ought to teach you some manners!” the other drunk said, striking at her with the back of his hand. Jake stepped in and caught the man's hand mid-air. The moment their skin made contact, Jake nearly doubled over. He could feel the blackness inside the man. It was sticky and thick, like tar. The darkness clung to his soul, made Jake want to vomit. It sapped him of strength.

              “Y-you are filled with sin.” Jake said, recoiling from the man's touch.

              The two drunks looked at each other strangely, then back to Jake. “What are you, mah preacher?” Jake ignored the man.

“Just leave the girl be, and we have no qualm.” Jake beckoned to the girl, who came running to his side. He looked into her mahogany eyes, finding a warmth he had never known before. It felt peaceful, as if the forces inside of him had balanced out, if only briefly.

“What is your name?” he asked dimly.

              “Sophie.” she said.

              Her voice was melodic and melancholy, like a violin. Her smile was sweet and simple, genuine. It was mesmerizing, so much so that it would have been impossible to see the knife being plunged into his stomach. He felt it though, the point, and the warmth of his own blood. Then he heard a distant scream before everything faded to black.

              Chapter 4

(Jake)

              Jake awoke. He was coated in sweat, which caused the thin sheets to cling to his bare chest. “Sophie!” he said, lurching forward.

              “I'm right here,” the angel said. Jake felt instant relief when he saw her. Her dark hair and pale skin, and her eyes. They soothed him, like balm over a wound. Then he remembered the knife. Jake ran his hand over his stomach, but found it blemish-free. There was no wound, no blood, not even a scar. Had he dreamed the whole thing?

              Sophie must have seen the confusion on his face because she began to explain. “It was a miracle,” she said. “The man I hit with the bottle, he sneaked up behind you with a blade. When I saw the wound, I thought...” she paused. “But the bearded man you were fighting scared the drunks off. He brought us here, said his friend was a doctor. He didn't murder you, he helped you,” she said.

              “Where's here?” Jake croaked. His throat was parched.

              “Ben's house. That's the bearded man's name. He's a really nice man. He gave me some of his wife's old clothes, said we could stay here as long as we needed. But nobody expected you to get better so soon, or at all, really.”

              Jake jumped out of bed and looked out the window. “Where is he now?” he asked suspiciously.

              Sophie shrugged, taking a sip of something warm in her mug. “Hot chocolate?” she offered.

              Jake shook his head. “No, I need to leave, now!” He made a beeline for the door.

              “Leave?” Sophie asked, shocked. “Why? You're safe now. What's the rush? Ben doesn't mind, really. It's just him and his two kids here. Zack and Mary. They're both adorable.”

              “There are children here!” Jake said in outrage. This was a nightmare. “What was he thinking?”

              Sophie frowned. “He was helping us. He even said he wouldn't tell anyone about the...”

              “The what?” Jake urged.

              “Miracle.”

              “Stop saying that word,” Jake barked. It was annoying him.

              “It really was, though. This wasn't some drop of holy water and weird dancing, no magic trick. It was a real miracle. We both saw it. Your skin mended itself, with a white light, made you whole again. It was amazing.”

              Jake's stomach turned. Every time someone saw his secret, something bad would happen. They would find him. Track the rumors to the source. Nothing would stop them. And if the children were here when they found him... Jake became dizzy. “Where is Ben now?” Jake asked.

              Sophie frowned. “His wife's grave. He thinks his wife healed you, her spirit.”

              Jake closed the blinds and sighed. “Has anyone else been here? A mailman, a gardener? Anyone?”

              Sophie shook her head. “No, just me, Ben, and the doctor, of course.”

              “The doctor! We have to go. The faster we leave, the less danger this man and his family will be in,” Jake said.

              “Danger? What are you talking about?” Sophie asked. She looked scared, confused.

              Jake found a shirt, a thick wool one. It was going to be a cold, long walk. “Gather your things and dress warm. We're leaving.

              “W-what? No,” Sophie stammered. “I'm not going anywhere, not until you tell me what's going on.”

              Jake sighed, exasperated. “They will find out we are here, if they don't already know, and when they do, nothing will stand in their way. NOTHING.”

              “Who?”

              “I'll explain later. Right now we need to stay as far away from here as possible, and pray our trace dissipates before they arrive. That's the only chance Ben's family has now.”

              “Trace? Are you a crazy person?” Sophie yelled.

              “Come on.” Jake grabbed Sophie by the collar.

              “Stop! I'm not leaving,” Sophie insisted.

              Jake let her go. “Fine, stay. Just know that when they come, what they do is your fault. I hope you can live with that, because I couldn't.”

              “Why do I have to go? No one is looking for me,” Sophie said.

              “You carry the mana's mark, too. I can feel it. It's the curse of the gods. They can sense it, too. And so long as you possess your power, whatever it may be, they will be able to hunt you. So we have to go now, they are coming. Do you understand?” Jake urged her to get up, extending a hand.

              “No, you're wrong,” Sophie insisted.

              Jake gawked at her. “What do you mean?”

              “I've never told anyone this before... but.” Sophie paused. “It just sounds so ridiculous when you say it, but I can't think of any other way to put it.”

              “Will you just spit it out already!” Jake howled. This girl was unbelievable.

              Sophie leaned in and whispered. “I can see the future.”

              Jake cocked his eyebrow. “Okaaaay...” he said with a weak smile.

              Sophie shook her head. “Don't look at me like that. It's true. Not just the future, but the past, too. I can sense danger as well. Know information I shouldn't. It comes to me in visions. In my head.” She prodded her head for emphasis.

              “Right...” Jake said with a smirk. “I think I just figured out why you like to run into the middle of boxing matches to save strangers.” Jake mouthed the word 'crazy' silently.

              Sophie shook her head in exasperation. “This is pretty much how I pictured this going. The point is. I can sense danger, that's how my, what did you call it, mana? That's how mine works. And I don't sense anything, at all. I'm telling you, we're safe. I know it.”

              Jake stopped stuffing his duffel bad. “You're certain?”

              “Yes! I'm tired of running, of searching.” Sophie said. Jake could see the weight of her burdens in her eyes. The pain was the price of her power. A fact he knew all too well. Jake sat down on the bed. His body longed for rest as well, as did his spirit. For as long as he could remember he had drifted, aimlessly, with no end. Perhaps the girl was right, he realized. Besides, he was tired of running too, so tired...

****

(Sophie)

              Sophie's mystery man was slouching on the edge of the bed, his eyelids growing heavy. Day-old stubble speckled his chiseled jaw line, and his chestnut hair was matted and unkempt. He was fascinating, and beautiful too, even more beautiful than in her dreams. What had led her to him, though? What purpose? And what was he? Where did he come from? Where was he going? She had so many burning questions for him, but she could see the exhaustion in his eyes, so she held her tongue.

              “What, what were you searching for?” Jake mumbled vaguely as he lay back on the bed.

              “For you,” Sophie admitted. She could feel her cheeks heat up as she spoke. It was embarrassing, now that she thought about it. What would he say if she told him she had been looking for him for an entire year, stalking his every movement by dream? She’d never felt so self-conscious before.

              “But you've never met me before,” he mumbled.

              Sophie shook her head. “I have, though. In my dreams. I was supposed to find you. The fates willed it.” She wanted to crawl into a hole and die now, alone.

              Ezekiel laughed. “Fate is a choice.”

              Sophie nodded. “Yes, but not your choice.”

              Jake was all but asleep now. “You're not very bright, but you are beautiful,” he mumbled before falling into a deep sleep.

              Sophie smirked privately as a rhythmic snore filled the air. “What a charmer,” she mumbled to herself.

              “He sure does sleep a lot,” a high-pitched voice behind Sophie said. Sophie turned to see Ben's daughter, a curly-haired strawberry blonde with a freckled face, buck teeth, and knees that were covered in Band-Aids.

              Sophie laughed. “He's had a hard couple of days. He needs it.”

              Mary shrugged. “So is he going to die, or what?”

              “Mary!” Sophie said, shocked.

              “What? Everyone is wondering the same thing. Me, Zack, even Daddy.”

              Sophie shook her head. “Where is your brother, anyways?”

              Mary rolled her eyes. “In the barn, training.”

              “For what?” Sophie asked. The boy was barely eleven, what could he possibly be training for?

              “To be a bare-knuckle boxing champion,” Mary explained. “Just like my dad.” Mary leaned in. “But Zach's got noodle arms and a glass jaw. That's why Dad says I'm going to be the fighter,” Mary whispered, then winked at Sophie.

              Sophie laughed. “I wouldn't bet against you.”

              Mary's gap-toothed smile suddenly faded to a frown.

              “What's wrong?” Sophie asked.

              “You're going to leave,” Mary said, crossing her arms. “I don't want you to go.”

              Sophie tousled Mary's curly hair. “Well, I can't stay here forever. I don't think your dad would like that too much.”

              Mary scoffed. “He doesn't like anything anymore. Not since Mom died.”

              Mary's face made Sophie's heart ache. She was so accustomed to pain, so hardened by it, but Mary's pain was new, fresh, the worst kind. Mary had to feel it all. Sophie hugged her closely. “He loves you and your brother. You can be sure of that.”

              Mary pulled out of Sophie's embrace. “He has a funny way of showing it. When he's not fighting at that stupid tavern he's in the barn, training. The only reason he's been in the house at all is because it's wintertime, and you guys are here. Once you're gone, it will be back to the way it was... empty.”

              “Don't you have any friends?” Sophie asked.

              Mary shook her head. “I did, but dad doesn't let me see them anymore. He said people can't be trusted. That's why I'm surprised he let you stay here. It's because of your friend, I think. Dad really believes the reason he didn't die is because our mom's spirit is still here, watching over the house.”

              Sophie finished the last few drops of hot chocolate, which had gone cold ages ago. “How did she die, your mother?”