“You’ve got to do better!” The Editor-In-Chief slapped the table hard. “Readership is down. People don’t want to ‘read’ the news anymore. Not when you can watch a recorded live-stream or whatever else today's technophiles are doing. You know what that creates?”
The gathered reporters peeked around the table, waiting for someone else to blurt out an invariably wrong answer, Chaz among them. Well, almost all of them, he noted. Krystal Fae, seated beside him, fiddled with something at her wrist and paid little attention to their boss.
“A generation of the half-informed. Our privilege, our duty, at the Sentinel is to fill in the gaps this attention-deficit world is suffering from.” The E.I.C. continues. “We’ve got to make them realize how much they need us. That means you need to start finding those stories before any clod with a smartphone can turn them viral!”
Krystal murmured something to herself and began to snatch up her belongings, peering authoritatively over the rim of her glasses at their boss, who returns an acquiescent nod back. There she goes again, thinking she’s so freaking special she doesn’t have to listen to your morning pep-talks like everyone else.
She grabs for and takes Chaz’s pen, which had rolled near to her own, off the table. Chaz scowls. You’re not getting my pen, too. He reaches to her arm to catch her attention before she leaves, trying to reclaim his property.
A flash of light.
Chaz's body twists and turns as if caught in a taffy-pulling machine while being pumped like air in an accordion.
He snaps back to existence and tumbles backwards to the dirt. Rolling to one side he empties identifiable chunks of his bacon-and-egg breakfast bagel onto the ground.
"Chaz! What are YOU doing here?!" Krystal wiped something away at the corner of her mouth.
Between eruptions, Chaz answers her question. "Losing my breakfast, at the moment..."
Krystal continued to droll on, something about first times, having to do work, and he didn’t care what else. She forced a crystal into his hand and warning him not to wander off.
“Whatever, mommie,” he snarked at her back as she moved off. You could be doing something useful, like not dragging me along like Toto as you wicked-witched yourself somewhere.
Standing up and wiping the dirt away from his khaki pants, Chaz surveyed the surrounding battlefield.
“Great. Back in Bursa, once more,” he said to the broken bricks and fieldstone rubble piles. Staring to the top of a nearby hill, Chaz sighed in relief as he noted Jinn had not returned to tower over the Turkish city. Being present for the field reporting during the original encounter, Chaz had no interest in participating in a repeat performance.
“If she thinks I’m going to follow her around like Fleagle, she has another thing coming.” He moved in the opposite direction from her path. “If there’s a story here, I’ll find it on my own and scoop her while she’s ‘heroing’.”
The colors of twilight hugged the battle-torn terrain, light enough to see, but causing the objects in view to take on a noticeable variation of hue. The lack of people walking the stone-paved streets and inactive streetlights indicated he was in a barely habitable section of the once beautiful city. Excavating equipment parked beside remnants of fallen buildings warned Chaz that he needed to be careful as he explored, not wanting to fall into an exposed basement or sewer pipe.
Eyeing the sky, Chaz watched for capes flying around as a guide for where some notable activity might be occurring. Nothing beside birds and fluffy clouds passed above him. He stumbled on a jagged paving stone or something at his feet, catching himself before slamming to the ground. After regaining his balance, he glanced about, looking for any onlooker who might have seen his embarrassing gait.
A dozen yards ahead, a shift of red fabric caught his gaze. He spied the back of figure dressed in deep crimson robes, resembling the classical garb of a priest or monk, including a rope belt cinched at the waist. The person disappeared behind a tall, metal dumpster before Chaz could see more, but from the body language Chaz observed, the figure moved furtively, wanting to go unseen.
“Well, well, well,” Chaz whispered to himself. His reporter instinct kicked in, signaling emphatically with his ‘Stop the Presses’ vibe. “What do we have here?”
Before following the figure, Chaz checked to see what almost tripped him. A dusty shaft of wood had been caught between the flagstones, likely a loose piece of debris pulled out of some basement and dropped onto the street. Surprisingly straight and sturdy, he pulled it out from the shallow crevasse it found itself in. He wiped at the dark wood, revealing a smooth finish as he cleared away dried dirt and tire treads from the surface.
“Just in case they aren’t friendly,” Chaz said as he gave his improvised club a test swing. Nicely balanced, he nodded with satisfaction as he pursued his target. He rolled Krystal’s silver band over his wrist as he moved forward, wanting to keep his hands free if he needed to use them.
He kept the ruins of fallen buildings between him and where he believed the robed figure to be heading. Stepping softly, Chaz listened for any disturbance or warning he might be close to his prey.
If the Editor-In-Chief needs someone to bring a story that wasn’t being easily observed by the masses, I'll be just the reality writer he wants.
Voices from around the corner brought Chaz to a halt, bracing his back against the gritty stonework of am end corner of wall. Rough, guttural barks in a Turkish dialect Chaz could barely understand echoed from the other side, lower to the ground, as if in an uncovered cellar or basement.
“—find it. A last gift from--. Power we can harness--,” the voice said.
Chaz brought out his smartphone and angled the camera lens around the corner edge, watching the screen. He shifted in his position and turned quietly to get a better view. His faint movement must have dislodged a smattering of stones from the top of the broken wall, evidenced by a cascading of stone dust onto his head. And by the sound of it, on the other side of the wall as well.
An unrecognized word, barked with the cadence of an order, resounded from behind the wall and warned Chaz trouble might be nearing. He backed away from the corner, unable to have seen anything of the activity on the other side.
Through the wall, a body appeared. Similar to the ghost demons the Jinn summoned to fight the assembled heroes weeks ago, the figure swiped at Chaz, coming within inches of his face with gold-tipped claws.
Chaz swung his makeshift staff at the arm and connected solidly. He slammed the limb into the stonework with a gratifying THUD.
A feral scowl crept along the creature’s features, pleased and angered at the same time. Pulling completely free of the masonry, it stepped closer as Chaz backed further away. Others came from around the corner of the building, gathering together like a pack of wolves prepared to rend their dinner into tiny chunks of flesh, striding toward Chaz.
“Keep back,” Chaz swung wildly at the lead being. He smacked his opponent square against the mouth, knocking out a spray of teeth. Red blood splashed against the rough, weathered stone.
With a his, they flooded forward, a wash of crimson about to swell over and engulf Chaz. A frigid chill blew over Chaz from behind. The attackers stopped moving as a rime of ice encased them into a massive frozen prison.
Chaz stared at the creatures, stunned by the elemental intervention. He dropped his weapon and it skittered noisily on the sidewalk as he retreated. Darting his eyes about, searching for additional threats, he spotted Krystal wiping the corner of her mouth clean once again.
Sighing with relief, Chaz gathered his wits as he smoothed his clothes, making sure he hadn’t had an involuntary emission in his pants. He straightened his back and moved closer to Krystal.
"Why didn't you use the bubble?" Krystal asked.
He glanced at the crystal bracelet she gave him, suddenly remembering her words when she uttered when she gave it to him. "I forgot.” Chaz muttered with a sheepish grin. ...and I'm a grown man, I could have handled this myself...
Krystal walked to the wooden shaft Chaz dropped to the ground and picked it up. “Ah, just what I came here looking for. You were wielding a remnant of Jinn’s Magic.” She turned to Chaz and raised an eyebrow. “Pray tell, how did you come to possess this?”
“You can read the story just like anyone else this time, Krystal,” he replied with a false grin, hiding his shock at what she claimed he had possessed. He didn’t want to admit he literally only stumbled onto it.
She studied him for a moment. “Oh, you found it on the street. How convenient. Are you ready to go?”
His shoulders slumped at her pronounced assessment. As she turned and headed back in the direction they arrived, Chaz scowled at her back before following after her.
“Damn telepathic Fae. I keep falling for that trick.”
Ahead of him, Krystal called out over her shoulder. “Yes, you do.”
0 Comments