Wednesday Briefs: Broken Path, Starless Tail Chapter Five

 

“Where am I?” Beckett stumbled to his knees. “Where’s the bathroom? Colby? Mrs. R!” He was alone, and he was not in a house. He was as far from in a house as he could possibly be; he was freezing, and it didn’t help that he didn’t have a shirt on.

Glowing light in the dark trees to his left was the only sign of civilization. The forest looked dead otherwise, the trees’ limbs bare and spindly as they rattled against each other in the wind, and nothing but white bits of snow blew around the dead grass and dirt path.

Beckett pushed himself to his feet, hissing at the pain in his chest. That hadn’t gotten any better either. He wanted to cross his arms, to huddle as close as he could for warmth but he couldn’t stand to even touch himself. He stumbled toward the light, hoping he’d just fallen asleep and somehow was dreaming or something.

It had to be a fever dream. But would his socked feet burn that bad if he was asleep? His nipples feel like they could cut glass?

To be honest, Beckett wasn’t sure. But he could go toward the light or he could stay where he was. And he wouldn’t do that. The one thing Beckett wasn’t was a quitter. Just ask all the teachers he’d annoyed over the years. He couldn’t suppress his smirk, even if he was freezing, and in pain, and lost in a dark, scary forest with no fucking idea what the hell was going on in his fucked up brain.

“Time to follow the light, I guess,” he muttered. “And great, now I’m talking to myself.” The light had been dim at first, but he realized it wasn’t so much that it was getting brighter but that it was really close to him. He only had to walk about a minute before the trees spaced out into a clearing, and he found a giant snarl of branches arching together.

“About time you got here. I thought you were going to die instead of ask Colby for help.”

I gaped at the top of the tunnel of branches where… Parallax? Well, something like Parallax sat up there, larger than life, and the source of all the light that lit up the clearing. He had to be easily as tall as me, if he was beside me. He was somehow transparent, his fur dark and ruffling in the wind, but sparkling as if lit by a thousand multi-colored stars in rainbow colors.

“Are you just going to stare at me? I mean, you’re usually smarter than the usual human. That’s why I always had you get me food. At least you did it right and didn’t curse me out or try to hit or kick me.”

“What? No one would have done that!” None of the guys would have done that. He was just a cat; he needed food and didn’t have hands to measure it or anything.

“Right. You believe those delusions.” He stretched, his overlarge ears flicking. “I bet you think this is a dream, don’t you?”

Beckett shivered violently. “Y-yes?” Could a person freeze in a dream?

“You’re not going to freeze. And this isn’t a dream. Look, I know this is a big shock to a human like you, but then again, you’re not exactly as human as you think you are. Or were.”

Wow. His brain had really gone on a field trip. No more fantasy books for him for a while. He pinched his arm. “Ow!”

Parallax hissed. “Seriously? Could you stop already? We don’t have much time before the portal opens, and I won’t be able to help you anymore. And I need your help.”

Beckett rubbed the sore spot on his arm that joined his chest in throbbing. Great, just great. “So, I need your help because you need my help? Or you need to help me so I can help you?” If this was following the usual sort of fantasy adventure trope, that was how it would go. Some sort of animal familiar would call on a human to go on a quest for the good of the world, and boom! Danger, darkness, pain, possible dismemberment and death….

“Wow, dramatic much? I can see why Colby likes you so much. One, I am not a familiar. You and I are connected, but you are not a witch, you do not have magical powers, and I am not some sort of conduit to the spirt realm or a mystical wellspring of power. I am, however, the embodiment of the Cosmos, and someone has stolen my star.” What had begun with a subtle derision had turned to a statement of pride then ended up with utter furious bewilderment.

And, dream or reality, whatever connection they had meant that not only could Beckett hear what Parallax was saying, he could feel those crazy emotions. “Wait… were you reading my mind? You were saying stuff about things I never said!”

Parallax abruptly sat, swiping one paw through the air, razor sharp claws that were longer than each one of Beckett’s fingers glowing like death’s sickle-bladed scythe. “That’s what you focus on? Spirit of the stars, with the very fundament of my being, my power, having been stolen, and you worry about me reading your thoughts? Humans,” he muttered.

Maybe it would be better to play along, if Beckett wanted to wake up or go home or whatever else would get him out of this frozen dark hell. He was done fighting this. “So what do you need to help me do to help you?”

“Finally! I thought I got the open-minded and smart one, and you were starting to worry me. I’m going to open the portal. You’re going to find my star.”

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Julie Lynn Hayes

Wednesday Briefs: Broken Path, Starless Tail Chapter Three

 

“You look like shit, man.”

“Mr. Reviee, language!” The football coach barked at him and then moved on, having bigger worries than Colby’s rude ass comment. Then again, Colby never cursed and so that just went to show how shitty Beckett looked.

“Let’s get out of here.” Beckett didn’t feel like sitting on the bleachers, and the rest of the football team wasn’t leaving fast enough for him.

“My mom’s home.”

“We can go to my house.” Well, the backyard at least. They had some loungers set up and he could soak up some sun. “You can hose off in the back. I tucked a couple of sodas in a cooler this morning and swiped two bags of chips and cookies.”

“Cookies, chips, and sugary soda? Are you trying to abduct me, sir?” Colby looked fake shocked.

“Oh shut up, like I’m some old guy and you’re some young child. You turn eighteen in three months.” Beckett leveraged himself up off the bleachers, feeling like his joints had locked up. He needed some sun or something, but that didn’t feel great either.

“So you admit I’m still a child for three months, and you’re luring me in with cookies and soda!”

They walked down the bleachers, and Beckett shouldered Colby. “Shut up!”

“You shut up!” Colby shoved him back, one hand pushing against his chest. Beckett winced and gasped, curling his shoulders in and covering his chest with both arms.

“Ouch! Fucking shit, damn!”

“Laund! Language! Don’t think I won’t make you both run laps.”

Beckett narrowed his eyes, raising his hand up to flip off the coach who’d been jogging by the front of the bleachers on the field level. Colby caught his arm. “Stop. He’ll do it.”

He snorted. “How? I’m not even a student here anymore, remember? He can’t make me do squat.”

“No, but he can make me run until you join me because they know you won’t let me suffer in the heat all by myself until I puke or pass out.”

Beckett scowled. Colby was his best friend, and the damn teachers had taken advantage of that fucking fact in order to make him do shit he didn’t want to do. Colby laughed it off, but they’d threaten him to make Beckett cave, and they were sadistic enough assholes to do it too. Well, most of them.

“Let’s just go.” His chest hurt, his stomach didn’t feel good, and he just wanted to go lay down and soak up some sun. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in three days.

They took off down the bleachers, the metal rumbling as they pounded the stairs down to the field and towards the tree line for the shortcut to Beckett’s house.

 

“You sure you don’t want any?” Colby asked.

Beckett grunted. He was laying on his back on the lounge chair, sprawled out. Eating was too much effort.

“Sure you’re not getting sick?”

Cracking open his eyelids, he rolled his head sideways. “No. I’ve slept like shit since your cat dive bombed me the other night. I’ve got PTPS, once and for all.”

“Ha-ha, you know that’s not funny for people who really have PTSD.”

“Name one person you know with PTSD.” Beckett waited, his eyes closed again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. And if they’d been dive bombed and clawed up by your cat, they’d have post-traumatic Parallax syndrome too.”

“Wait, what? Parallax doesn’t claw anyone. He just used his immense size to knock the wind out of you, scare you awake, and make you do his bidding.”

“Apparently that wasn’t enough this time.” Beckett shook his head. “And you should tell your parents to like, clean his feet or his litter or some shit because it fucking hurts.”

Colby’s chair creaked. “Let me see.”

“My scratches? No. Eat your cookies, drink your soda, and relax like a good little captive child.” Beckett’s dad hadn’t come home for lunch, so he was in the clear for at least another three hours. He could nap, and damned if he didn’t want to right then and there.

His shirt was yanked up before he realized what was happening. Beckett sat up, yelling, “Hey!” but Colby didn’t let go of his shirt. His eyes were huge.

“We need to go to my house.”

“What the fuck, man? Let go of my shirt.” Beckett yanked it out of Colby’s hand and covered the raw, red punctures on his chest that he’d swear were growing. But he knew better. They were just healing. Red and warm meant healing to the area.

“You said you weren’t sleeping?” Colby’s question came out as more of a statement.

“Yeah, so?” He was a stomach sleeper and that wasn’t happening.

“Have you had any… dreams?”

Nope. No way. Not going there. “Hard to dream when you’re not sleeping,” Beckett said. He was tired, sore, didn’t feel good, he was not crazy. Not admitting to dreaming about a talking cat who insisted he was really talking to him in his dreams.

“If your chest hurts bad enough you can’t sleep or get into a REM cycle, you should let someone see it.” They both knew that wouldn’t be Beckett’s parents. “Mom took care of that cut on your foot last summer, remember?”

She had. Beckett knew his dad was just tell him that’s what he got for running around barefoot, but Mrs. R just cleaned it, butterflied it, and covered it with a bandage. She even checked on it three days later when he was over for dinner.

“Fine. But later, after my nap.” He didn’t have the energy to walk over to Colby’s house right then.

Colby looked anxious. He checked his phone. “Okay. Yeah. They won’t be home for an hour or so anyway.” He kept staring, fiddling with his phone.

Beckett sighed. “Stop staring and chill out. I’m not even mad your cat attacked me. It’s gonna be fine.” 

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Julie Lynn Hayes

Wednesday Briefs: Broken Path, Starless Tail Chapter Four

“Mom, Dad, you back from the store yet?” Colby was yelling the second they walked through the door. Beckett winced. His head was throbbing, and Colby’s voice pierced through his brain like a hot-red spike. The nap hadn’t helped at all.

Worse, when he’d opened his eyes, Colby had been staring at him and there was something off about the expression on his face. A mix of fear, awe, and something Beckett couldn’t pinpoint but made him super uncomfortable. “What, was I drooling?” he’d asked.

“No, but you were mumbling a lot.”

“Oh.” Beckett shrugged, wincing when the movement pulled the skin on his chest. “Dunno about what.” He couldn’t remember the dreams he’d had that time. Just lights and something so cold he could swear it was invading his soul.

He still felt cold, even if they’d been laying outside in the sun.

“In the kitchen putting away groceries.”

They walked to the kitchen and stopped in the open area of the dining room by the table. Mr. and Mrs. R were moving around each other in the kitchen, putting away groceries from the bags without saying a word. They didn’t even need to talk about it or look at each other, they just moved around putting things where they went without bumping into each other.

The connection they had always made Beckett want to sigh with romantic envy. Then blush with embarrassment. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he wanted a boyfriend, hell, even a date. Not in this town, though.

“Mom, uh, Beckett needs you to check something out.” Beckett wanted to elbow Colby but moving his arms was starting to hurt more because of the healing inflammation, so he didn’t.

“Hey,” he hissed instead. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he said louder. “Colby is just being paranoid.”

“Parallax clawed him. Now he’s cold, not sleeping, and they look pretty bad.”

“They’re not that bad,” Beckett said defensively. “And Parallax is just a cat. He didn’t do it on purpose.” He didn’t want to lose his permission to come to Colby’s house if his parents thought he was blaming the cat—or them.

“Of course, hun. Just a moment.” Mrs. R folded up a bag, glancing at Mr. R. He’d paused with a jar of sauce in his hands, exchanging a look with Colby. What was it with this family? Something about the way they wiggled their eyebrows or something; it was like they had a whole facial language. “Let’s go to the bathroom. I have some disinfectant and gauze in there.”

“Um, okay. I did wash them with peroxide and have used soap each day in the shower.” Beckett didn’t want her to think he hadn’t done anything.

“I’m sure, I’m sure.” Mrs. R. patted him on the back, guiding him toward the hall bathroom off the living room even though she was so much shorter than he was. Tiny, she was tiny, but they didn’t say that in fear of incurring her wrath which was not tiny. “So, not sleeping, huh? That’s got to be rough on a teenager during summer vacation. Isn’t that half of your daily schedule?”

Beckett smiled. He liked how casual she was about it, not giving him a hard time about being a teenager or wanting to sleep in, even if he’d graduated high school. “Not according to my dad. I’m supposed to have a job and be an adult who faces reality head on.”

“Oh, there’s plenty of time for that. Seems to me too many people in this world forget the magic and freedom of not being mired in so-called reality.” She said it with a touch of disgust, and Beckett laughed.

“Well, I’m free for now.”

“Hmm,” Mrs. R had him sitting on the edge of the tub so she could see his chest and not have to lean too far down. “Take that shirt off while I get all this out.” The brown bottle she pulled out didn’t even have a label, but the gauze came out of a normal red and white package.

Beckett slowly took off his shirt, and it hurt so much that he was still pulling his arms down when she was already soaking the gauze with the smelly brown fluid. He grimaced.

“Oh damn.” She paused with the cotton halfway in the air between them. “Lowell, come here!” Feet came trotting down the hall, and Mr. R and Colby both stopped in the doorway.

“Those are worse than they were before.”

“How long ago?” Mrs. R said quietly.

“Less than two hours.”

“I’ll get Parallax.” Mr. R turned and left.

“What can I do?” Colby asked.

“Come help me.”

Beckett watched, his forehead wrinkled, when Colby laid his hand on the back of his mother’s neck. She touched one of the punctures on Beckett’s chest and he winced, biting back the yelp.

Her disinfectant burned. She swiped the first mark, then the second, third, and fourth. Sweat was beading on all their brows before she turned to the other side of his chest. “Damn him,” she hissed. “Why now? Why him?”

“I think we all knew it would be, Mom.”

His head was swimming, stomach churning, and Beckett’s mouth was watering with the urge to vomit so he kept swallowing over and over. Nothing they said made sense, and he wasn’t sure why these damn cat scratches were so bad. Had he gotten a blood infection?

“Do I need to go to the hospital?”

“No,” all three of them said in unison. Oh. Mr. R was back. Parallax was in his arms, his body limp. Was the slug asleep? Probably. Usually you could tell if his tail was up or hanging limp, but Beckett couldn’t see his tail. He looked strangely… faded.

“Put them together,” Mrs. R ordered.

“Huh?” Beckett didn’t know what she wanted put together until Mr. R leaned over and pressed Parallax into his arms and up against his chest. Beckett braced for the pain, but it was like the usually heavy cat weighed nothing at all. He nearly melted against Beckett’s chest.

Looking down, Beckett saw the moment Parallax opened his eyes and he gasped as he fell inside.

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Julie Lynn Hayes

 

Wednesday Briefs: Broken Path, Nameless Tail Chapter Two

 

Something sharp poked his chest, and he jolted awake. His breath caught, what little he could with the weight on his chest and the daggers at his throat. Nothing prepared him for this, and he should have known better.

“I swear I locked that door.” Parallax was Colby’s cat. Or the family’s cat. Or a cat that lived in the woods that bordered their side of town, and he somehow had free reign on their house and demanded food the moment the horizon began to light and the stars began to fade before he scampered off to wherever he hid all day.

He took the cats were night creatures thing seriously. Beckett had never seen him awake during the day, and he could be downright lethal if whoever was his chosen food preparer of the day didn’t get right on with it.

Hence the chest and throat assault. The prick of claws wake up and baleful stare were just the start. In less than a minute, the blue black fur on his body would start to fluff, and he’d make a noise that would vibrate the bones in his victim’s skull until they had to get out of bed to shut him up and make it go away.

Plus whoever was around would assault Parallax’s chosen victim with whatever was within arm’s reach to make them do it, just in case he decided to pick someone else instead. Not that Beckett had ever seen that happen. Any time he stayed over, Parallax always picked him as his chosen breakfast slave.

“You know, I was up late reading,” he informed the cat. His eyes felt like they had twenty-pound sandbags on them. “And there was a cat in the book. Lazy thing, spent twenty-three hours a day sleeping.”

Parallax spent a lot of the time sleeping, but not that much. The clock hadn’t even made it to six yet. Beckett groaned. He needed coffee for this. He snapped the button on the pod with his cup already loaded. Colby must have set it up. Such a good best friend. Then again, Beckett was up at the butt crack of dawn feeding Colby’s cat.

Maybe he was the best best friend.

 

The next night, Beckett sank into his own bed with a sigh of relief. He was alone in the house, his parents going away on a weekend trip, and he didn’t have to be anywhere for the next two days. No sneaking out of the house to avoid hard looks, spending his days sweating it out waiting for Colby to finish practice or hoping he’d get a call or text on a job he was damn sure wasn’t going to materialize.

Opportunities didn’t just fall out of nowhere.

The air-conditioning was going full-blast, for once the late June day weather holding through the evening hours. Beckett pulled the sheet up over his bare chest, blocking the chill air. Some days he wished he was even a little hairy. Okay, more than some days. The guys had laughed their asses off because somehow Parallax had ringed both his nipples when he sunk his claws into Beckett’s chest that morning, leaving them red and sore.

“Ass cat,” Beckett muttered again. They were still tingly under the covers, just the slightest bit tender.

He rolled onto his side and smushed his pillow up under his neck. “Sleep.” He wanted it. Needed it. Craved it. Something about the nighttime made it hard to sleep, and he was always tired. All Beckett wanted to do was curl up into a ball and take a nap when the sun was highest—and wasn’t that a problem during fourth period Chemistry or U.S. History, or Trig.

Teachers had this thing about staying awake.

But he couldn’t. He’d prop his chin up on his first, eyes trained on the notes or the page, and then be a goner. All the last semester, Beckett had gotten be the same dream, or a version of it. Now I was exhausted.

No way was a dream keeping Beckett up tonight. He’d taken a little pharmaceutical assistance before hitting the hay.

 

He woke because something was stabbing him in the back. “Ow, did a fucking spring break?” He tried digging underneath him, but Beckett couldn’t find the spring.

His hand closed on something warm, kobby, and firm. Yanking it out, he stared at the brain. One end was chewed, devoid of leaves and branches, even the bark gone, like it had never existed. Just smooth wood with a slightly slippery texture.

“What the hell?” Beckett muttered. He reached over to the side of the bed, dropped the wood, and rolled over. He wasn’t sure if the sun was up, but there was no way he was greeting that evil ball of heat and light two days in a row.

He sighed, relaxing, then jerked when something poked him in the ribs on his left side. “No way,” he grumbled. Sure enough, it was another stick. Shoving back the covers, Beckett jumped out of the bed.

Instead of a soft mattress, it was a slightly concave platform, the edges woven together to form a nest. Sticks stuck out here and there, similar to the ones that’d been poking him. No bark, no blemishes, just smooth wood. But he could have sworn he’d laid down on a soft mattress.

Then Beckett looked up, jumping to find his best friend’s cat, his ass parked right on Beckett’s pillow, waiting for him. “Good evening, Beckett.”

“No fucking way. What are you doing here?” Was this a prank? He looked around, trying to find Colby. He’d be there somewhere, snickering.

Wait. The cat just talked. To him. By name.

Beckett pinched his leg. Nothing. Whew. This had to be a dream.

“You are dreaming, Beckett, but I’m not really a dream,” Parallax said.

“Oh sure.” Because that made perfect sense. He nodded along anyway, because everyone knew that was how you made a nightmare go away. 

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Julie Lynn Hayes

Wednesday Briefs: Broken Path, Starless Tail Chapter One

 

New story time!! Check out some inspiration images below! 

Beckett rolled a blade of grass between his fingers. The bottom of the stem was full and round, and the blade fluttered when he spun it again. Grasping the two pieces, he pulled slowly, trying to get the whole blade off the stem before it broke.

“Damn.” It tore, so he tossed the grass down on the field and pursed his lips, looking for another one. A foot kicked his hip, rolling from his belly to his side.

“What are you doing?”

“Dying of boredom.” Beckett squinted up at the dark shape, the sun burning his eyes so they watered. He rolled all the way over away from Colby and back onto his belly. The grass here was in the shade of several full birch trees and cool against his stomach where his T-shirt rode up. “How was practice?”

Colby slumped to the ground beside him, sighing in relief once he got into the shade. “Hot.” He lifted Beckett’s bottle of water, the ice tinkling against the metal sides, and guzzled at least half the water inside.

“Hey! Don’t drink it all.”

“I need it.” Colby gasped a little for air, out of breath from taking such a long drink. “I’m parched.”

“Parched.” Beckett huffed at his fancy word. “Can’t you just say you’re fucking thirsty?”

“I could, if I wanted to use language only fit for teenage hooligans or my teammates.” Colby lifted the hem of his jersey and wiped off his forehead.

“So I’m a hooligan?” Beckett for damn sure wasn’t on the football team. No way would he be caught dead in those pants or taking part in a team sport.

“You said it, not me.” Colby smirked, lounging back on his elbows. “I thought you had a job this summer before you head off to college.”

“So did I.” His dad insisted, so Beckett had complied, but then the bookstore closed. Now all the summer jobs in their small town were taken, and he had fuck all to do. His dad couldn’t complain; Beckett had put in applications everywhere, but no one else was hiring until some teenager pulled some irresponsible bullshit and got fired.

So he had time on his hands. He definitely wasn’t going to spend it at home, and without the bookstore to hang out in, the high school campus was as good a place as any. “Shouldn’t you go shower or something?”

“Nah, Coach doesn’t open up the locker rooms for summer workouts, just drags up the hose for the water pipe and points us at the woods on the north side of the field if anyone has to go.”

Beckett snorted. “Piss, you mean?”

“You know what I meant.”

“So I gotta sit here and smell you?”

“Aww, you big baby. We could go to my house. My parents are working.” Colby was a junior, well senior now that the school was out, and even had a car. With his light brown hair, dark brown eyes, easy grin and the way he always tried to speak properly, adults loved him and the girls were always trying to date him. No one knew how they’d become friends, at least until they talked to them together or realized Colby and Beckett always carried around the same books.

They were a lot alike, despite seeming like opposites. Sure, Colby was popular and Beckett had a reputation because he didn’t take crap from anyone and more than one teacher had written him up for swearing. His attitude didn’t stop him from getting scholarships and grants to pay for college and into a dorm because what came out of his mouth wasn’t what came out on paper, and he had an exceptional imagination his Lit teacher always said.

“Why?” Going to Colby’s house made Beckett uncomfortable. There was something….

“Because I see your bookmark on the last page of The Path of Shards, and I finished mine last night. Well, this morning at almost two which is why Coach was shouting at me for dragging ass. I got the next two books in the series from Amazon.”

Beckett rolled up to sitting. He plucked a blade of glass. “Really?”

“Yep. Used a gift card my aunt sent me so it didn’t even cost a dime.”

“You could have used it for something else.” He squinted at the blade, pulling gently.

“Other than books?” Now it was Colby’s turn to snort. “We all know that’s all I buy from Amazon with gift cards. Come on, the sweat’s starting to dry on my back and it itches. I want to shower and start reading, and I can’t do that if you’re not reading too.” He pushed off the ground in a single shove, and where he found the energy after working out in the low eighties even before noon, Beckett didn’t know. He sighed.

“Fine.” Beckett grabbed his water bottle and his book and gracelessly rolled onto his knees and then pushed up with his knuckles to get to his feet. “But I’m making quesadillas for lunch.”

“Since Mom said only you’re allowed to cook lunches? Duh.” Colby jabbed him in the ribs. “She got those tomato wraps and the good cheese too. Let’s go!”

 

Colby showered while Beckett cooked two full-sized quesadillas and then sliced them up with the pizza wheel. If they used napkins and only held the books with their free hands, they could eat and check out the second book in the series. Usually he had a no eating and reading rule, because he didn’t want to damage his books, but the colorful covers of The Eyes of the Abyss were too tempting.

Plus the cliffhanger from the last book was brutal. Who did that? It was a good thing he had  a rule never to read a series with less than three completed books. Otherwise, he never knew what crazy things an author might leave the characters facing while their readers were stuck holding their breaths. 

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