Demon Derby (5 page)

Read Demon Derby Online

Authors: Carrie Harris

“So if it wasn’t such a big deal, why are we running like the hounds of hell are about to pounce on us and devour our gizzards?”

“Dude, people don’t have gizzards. That’s chicken.”

“Whatever.”

Rachel pulled out her keys and pressed the button to unlock the doors to her Mini Cooper. We got in and immediately rolled down the windows. It was already warm even though it was still midmorning; the air felt soupy and on the verge of rain.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ve got to tell you something. It’s driving me nuts.”

“All right.” Rachel folded her hands and put on her best listening face, which normally made me want to laugh. Normally. “Spill.”

So I told it all, starting with the disembodied voice and ending with the … well, the disembodied voice. And then I waited for her to call me a lunatic.

“You sound like Dad,” Rachel said.

Our father believed in everything. His reality included things like men in black, alien abduction, spirit animals, demonic possession, voodoo dolls, Kyrilian photography, leprechauns, poltergeists, Ouija boards, reincarnation, pyrokinesis, subliminal messages that could be blocked by the generous application of tinfoil, and the theory that dolphins were really Atlanteans in disguise. The fact that some of these beliefs were incompatible never seemed to bother him. Frankly, he didn’t even appear to have noticed.

“I know.” I hung my head. “But I don’t know what to think. At first, I figured maybe I’d gotten my meds mixed up. But I would have noticed that, right?”

“I’d think so.”

“So …” I didn’t want to say what I was thinking.

“It’s the only logical explanation, Casey. He flicked a cigarette at you, just like that cop said, and you hallucinated it was tears. I mean, stranger things have happened. One time when I came to see you in the hospital, you were so doped up you thought I was Lady Gaga. And I wasn’t even wearing my meat dress that day.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You sound less than convinced.”

I threw up my arms. “Well, this sucks! I don’t know what was real. Maybe the guy didn’t look at all like I thought. Maybe he was an albino midget with only one arm. How do I know I’m even telling them to look for the right freaking person?”

Tears threatened to spill down my cheeks, but I wiped them away ferociously. I hated feeling scared, and things like this, inexplicable things, terrified me. Because there was another explanation I couldn’t bring myself to say out loud. That stupid voice at the back of my head kept squealing,
Brain tumor! It’s a brain tumor! It was only a matter of time!
I tried to tell myself the voice was full of crap, but if I hadn’t dorked up my meds, it was the only other logical explanation. I was hallucinating for no reason. That couldn’t be good.

“I hear what you’re saying.” She sighed. “But getting all worked up over it is only going to make you red in the face, and with the no-hair thing, you’ll look like a tomato on a stick.”

After a shocked moment, I started giggling. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Me either.” She flashed a grin, but it faded fast. “All joking aside, though, this pisses me off. It’s like, we almost lose you once, and then some crack-smoking douche bag comes by and almost kills you in an alley? I’m seriously not okay with this.”

I sighed. “I’m fine, Rachel. It was scary as hell, but I’m okay.” What I needed was to go to a hospital, but I wasn’t ready to face it yet. I could hide my head in the sand for just a little while.

“Did you tell Detective Whatshisname the whole story or the edited one? You need to tell him everything, even if it makes you feel stupid.”

“I left out the parts that made me sound like a total lunatic. Can you blame me?”

“You need to tell him, Casey. If you don’t, how can he get the job done?”

I looked at the squat building and envisioned walking back inside, through the sock-scented waiting room and into Detective Johnson’s grotty little cubicle, and then admitting I’d been hallucinating last night. It was the last thing I wanted to do.

“I’ll call him later,” I said. “He seemed kind of busy.”

“You better. No one messes with my little sister. We’ll find the guy and hang his balls from my rearview mirror.”

“Eeeeew.”

Rachel finally put the car into drive and sped out of the parking lot like the hounds of hell were in fact following us, despite our lack of gizzards. Not that she was reckless; she just ran at a higher speed than the average human.

I braced myself against the armrest as we flew around a corner, and then I checked the dashboard clock. “Think you could drop me off at the dojo? It would do me some good to get out of the house under circumstances that don’t involve any burning.”

“Your wish is my command, dahling,” she deadpanned.

My nerves stopped jittering as soon as I got out of the car, which was a major relief. I hadn’t been to the dojo since I’d gotten out of the hospital. Every time I’d decided to go, I’d felt like puking and canceled at the last minute. But now? After what had happened yesterday, I felt like I had to come, despite the continued temptation to vomit. It was either that or be paralyzed with fear for the rest of my life.

The thwack of bodies hitting the mats was clearly audible outside the doors; sensei had probably propped them open in a vain attempt to make the thick air circulate through the
building. I slipped inside, stepped out of my shoes, and bowed to the
kamidana
shrine on the wall.

About fifteen students milled around, shrugging on gi tops, stretching on the mats, and throwing each other around for fun. A couple of black belts came through the back door with armfuls of bamboo practice swords, and I saw Sensei’s distinctive bristle-cut hairstyle among them. I sidestepped a white belt warming up on the floor and headed in that direction.

“Sensei?” I called out.

The acoustics in the dojo left something to be desired; everything echoed underneath the high ceilings. My voice got lost in the commotion, and he went back outside without seeing me.

One of the black belts intercepted me.

“Welcome to Black Sands Dojo! Can I help you?” she said, flashing a gap-toothed smile. Her hair was longer now and pulled back into a messy ponytail, but I would have recognized those teeth anywhere.

“Darcy, it’s me. Casey.”

The smile flickered and then pasted itself back on with fervor. Darcy fastened her eyes to my face, deliberately looking anywhere but at my bald head. I was beginning to regret shaving it. Even the leper ’fro would have been better than this.

“Casey! I didn’t recognize you!” She gave me a one-armed hug that took me completely by surprise and nearly resulted
in a face full of sword. We’d been training buddies for a couple of years, but we’d never hung out too much outside of the dojo because she went to Saint Joe’s and I went to Mackinaw Central. But inside the dojo, we’d been pretty inseparable, which is what happens when you start training about the same time and you’re both tiny junior high girls.

“It’s so good to see you!” she said, her voice high and breathless. “Are you coming back to training?”

“I was thinking about it,” I said. “Congrats on the black belt, by the way.”

“Thanks! I had to work pretty hard, but you know how that is. You should come to the white belt class first thing on Saturdays. That would be a great way to get back into things! Today we’re doing
gogyo
again.” Darcy brushed a hair out of her face. “But next Saturday? I could give you a ride, if you want? I’m teaching the class, so I’ve got to be here early.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s cool. Listen, I’ve got to get the rest of the gear for today, but I’ll catch up with you after training, okay? Bye!”

She leaned over and gave me a quick smooch on the cheek like we were long-lost BFFs. We’d never had a huggy kind of friendship before; she’d always been the shy and reserved type. By the time I got over the shock, she was out the door.

Maybe that hadn’t really been Darcy. It might have been an alien clone.

I took a seat at the back of the dojo, telling myself I wasn’t wussing out; I was just respecting the rule about senior students not training without a gi. The students organized themselves
into meticulous rows behind Sensei and bowed to the
kamidana
to officially begin the class. He began to lead them through the
gogyo
, a series of moves representing the five elements. I had always loved
gogyo;
it was amazing how each move felt different, like the elements were actually channeling through me. I liked the flash and arc of fire and the heaviness of my feet in earth, the buoyancy of air and the liquid way the moves rippled into one another in water.

Void was the most difficult element to master; everyone said so. But this time, something clicked as I watched Sensei punch, toss an imaginary
metsubishi
, and kick. I stood up without even realizing it and pictured the man from the alleyway, struck him with one hand, threw a
metsubishi
into his eyes to obscure his vision, shifted to kick. The moves blended together so it felt like I was striking from all directions at once. Being everywhere. Being void.

Once I started, I couldn’t stop. The familiar cadence of moves carried me out of myself; all conscious thought ceased. I forgot all the angsty emo crap for a while and just moved. When the hand fell on my shoulder, it was like coming back to earth.

“Yes!” Sensei said. “That’s exactly it.”

I stopped midkick and bowed to him hastily. “I’m very sorry, sir. I know I’m out of uniform. I’ll bring my gi next time.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re not here.”

I looked down at myself, trying to figure out what he was talking about.

“You’re everywhere and nowhere, right?” He punched me lightly on the shoulder, the way he used to when he made a joke, regardless of how dumb it was. “You’re void, right?”

Now I couldn’t keep from smiling. “Something like that.”

The flash of humor on his face was gone so fast, I almost thought I’d imagined it. “It is good to have you back,
Kunoichi
,” he said, bowing deeply.

Tears sprang to my eyes, sudden and surprising. But I kept my voice steady and returned the bow. “It’s good to be back, Sensei.”

He straightened and winked, mercurial as always. “Now sit down, or I’ll have to bust your butt for breaking my rules.”

I plopped back onto the bench, and he returned to the other students, moving among them, making jokes, correcting with a light touch of the arm or a potato smack to the head. Then they moved into some basic sword strikes, and it was so hard to sit when my muscles itched to move, ached to quit surviving and start living again. Finally I’d found something that hadn’t changed. If I could recapture ninjutsu, I could get everything else back too. Screw that theoretical brain tumor and the horse it rode in on. I was probably all freaked out over nothing. Heck, maybe I’d gotten roofied. Sad but true, that thought was reassuring. Here was a rational explanation that didn’t involve my dying at the end, and it was totally feasible! That was why I’d hallucinated. No relapse. No metastases. No need to panic.

The wave of relief made me literally rock back in my seat;
it hit me that hard. I was going to be okay, and I was going to train again. I didn’t have the stamina to pull off a ninety-minute class. Not yet, but I would.

After class was over, Darcy pounced before I could even stand up from my bench. She was practically squealing with excitement. I put my hands to my temples; I could feel the headache developing already.

“So are you allowed to go out?” she asked. “Because if you are, I could pick you up for the basics class on Saturday, and maybe we could go and get some coffee? Unless you don’t drink coffee? I can’t remember if you do or not. I love coffee. If I could drink it in my sleep, I totally would.”

“Of course I’m allowed. I went to the Halloween Bash on campus last night,” I said.

“Sweet! Did you dress up? I went as a ninja this year, which is so not creative, but it was all I had.”

“I wore my sister’s old roller derby uniform.”

“Ohmigod!” Darcy waved her hands in excitement, agitation, or some combination thereof. “Do you like derby? You’ve got to come to these tryouts with me in a couple weeks! Say you will; no one else wants to come, and I don’t want to go by myself.”

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