Alchemist (The Four Corners of Santerria), Page 2

  He sneered and shook his head. “That isn’t a fair comparison. I love Jo and I would do anything for her.”

  “What? How is it any different? You had the choice and you made it.”

  He shook his head again. “One day when you’re married you’ll understand.”

  She folded her arms again and leant against the kitchen side. “Okay then, explain it to me. What makes it so different for you?”

  “No, were not having this discussion, you just wouldn’t understand.”

  “Do you ever intend to tell her?” she asked, changing the subject.

  He looked at her for a minute. “Maybe,” he looked away regretfully, “maybe one day.”

  Terry sighed. “That’s what worries me.”

  “Me too.” He shook his head in resignation. “She’s likely to freak out if I ever told her. It could destroy our marriage.”

  “Jo might understand.” She said, but Terry could tell by Conner’s expression that he knew she was only being polite.

  “Yeah...maybe.” He looked away, lost in reflection. He smiled. “Do you remember when all this was fun? The secrets, when you’re younger its fun having a secret. Having super powers.” His smile faded. “But now it’s just not the same.” He looked at her again. “I remember when we were 15 I was scared to death almost all of the time with everything we did. I just wanted it to be over.” He shook his head, his look regretful. “Now, I’m ashamed to say, I miss it a bit.” He laughed, more at a loss than humour. “Isn’t that weird? Do you ever feel like that, or is it just me?”

  “No, I feel like that too. Life was a lot easier when we were saving the world.”

  Conner laughed. “I wouldn’t say that, we never quite saved the world.”

  “No, but we did a lot more than most people will ever do in their lifetimes.”

  “It makes you kind of long for trouble again doesn’t it?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. In fact, I just wish that I could go home.”

  Connor’s heart sank. “I’m sorry.”

  She waved his apology away. “It’s ok, it wasn’t your fault.” It was mine.

  A sudden flash of lightning in the night sky caught their attention. And the metallic taste was in terry’s mouth.

  Chapter 2

  After Dark

  Conner and Terry made their way across the field. “Are you sure it was over here?” asked Conner, directing the torch.

  “I’m positive, I can smell it and I had that metal taste in my mouth again. It was too strong to be anything else.” Terry said with conviction.

  Connor waved the beam of light far in front of them. “I still can’t see anything. Wouldn’t it have left a mark in the grass?”

  Terry stopped without word.

  When he noticed, Connor turned back and directed the light at her. “What?”

  She looked about for a few moments before settling to the south west. She cursed under her breath.

  “What? What is it?”

  She sighed. “They tried to open a portal here then when it failed they tried one over there.”

  Connor pointed the torch the direction she was looking, the white beam dissipating into the gloom. “How far?”

  Terry sniffed at the air. “I’d say about a mile.”

  Conner sighed. “Now you tell me. If you had told me that five minutes ago I could have saved us from walking.”

  “I didn’t want you to light up like a Christmas tree and attract even more attention if we’re not the only ones who saw it.” She said as her skin began to change colour.

  “No one would have seen me.” Replied Conner, as he watched her transform.

  In her standard Alchemist form Terry appeared to be wearing a metal suit of armour.

  Her torso was reminiscent of the top half of an hour glass. Although thin near her middle, she widened again at the waist, her limbs were thin but coated in plates, raised in parts, but smooth. It appeared black in the poor light of the moonless night. Her feet were wide, pronged into two large toes and a third support at the back

  Two raised metal plates lined both her shoulders, curving up and back, the ones at the back larger than the first. But the armour ended swiftly at her neck, forming a bulky collar.

  “You can never be to sure.”

  Connor looked her up and down, the torch light glinting off her armour. The dense alloy seemed to drink it, dulling the brightness. “So why’s it ok for you to run around looking like that?”

  “Like I said,” Terry raised an arm and a twelve inch curving blade grew out of the underside of her elbow. Flexing her hand, it retracted. “I don’t light up like a Christmas tree.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned, running off into the night at a high speed.

  Conner lost sight of her in less than ten seconds. “Whatever.” He muttered, flicking off the torch and dropping it. Ignoring her warnings and igniting himself into a human flame. The fire rippled over him like liquid. With a small burst beneath his feet, he took off into the sky.

  Terry was first to arrive, with a bitter copper taste in her mouth. It was so foul, she had to spit. A burned semi circle of grass drew her attention. She knelt down for a look. But on closer inspection there was nothing remarkable about, no tell tale signs of who had came through. There were no signs of footprints; which she found odd. Standing, she let her gaze sweep across the hillside, but there was no sign of anyone.

  Conner landed just behind her. “Was it one then?” he asked, hurrying up to her side.

  “Yeah...but I don’t think anyone came through. Not that I can tell anyway.”

  Connor peered into the gloom. His eyesight was nowhere near as good as hers but he was happy to take her word for it.

  “Why would someone go to all that hassle to open a gateway and not bother coming through?”

  She shrugged, seeming even larger than before as the plates on her shoulders rose for a moment before falling. “Maybe the machine broke. It would explain why they tried to make two portals.”

  Connor scratched the stubble on his jaw line, realising that he had not shaved for a couple of days. “A bit worrying...who do you think it was.”

  She shook her head, staring off into the night. “I don’t know.” She knew who she hoped it was though, but she did not say it allowed. “It could have been anyone.”

  Connor looked at her. “How long has it been since the last time this happened? It’s got to be what? Five, six years?”

  “Seven. Five months and twenty three days.”

  He stared at her in open amazement. “You’ve kept count?”

  “No, I just have a far better memory than you.” She said, turning away.

  “Should we not hang around for a bit and see if they come back?”

  “There’s no point, no one came through.” She shouted in reply, heading back the way they had came.

  The two of them arrived back at the house at around the same time, Connor changing back to normal behind a hedgerow before making their his way across the street. Terry had to bolt, still dressed in her full armour. Without it on, she would have been naked; having shredded her clothes earlier when she transformed.

  “I should be heading back.” Said Conner.

  “Yeah, no problem.” Terry stopped at the flight of the steps and stared at the door.

  “What?” said Conner following her gaze. Then he saw it.

  The front door to the house was slightly ajar. Terry lowered her voice. “You closed the door behind you properly, right?”

  “Yeah.” He whispered.

  Stepping toward the porch, Terry drew one of her blades, which she kept low at her side so as to hide from view of anyone who might be on the other side of the door. Conner followed closely behind, a flame ball in one of his hands. “Don’t throw anything unless you see someone.” Terry whispered, looking over her shoulder. Conner nodded.

  Terry carefully pushed the door, opening it only a little, but enough so that she could peer round the side. While most people woul
d consider the move dangerous in case robbers were armed and opened fire Terry had no qualms about being shot in the head. It had happened before and had done no damage. Even as a human the microscopic metal robots that lived in her cells would repair any damage within a few seconds while in an Alchemist guise the bullet would have ricocheted, causing no damage. It still hurt though when it pierced the flesh though. It was the microscopic robots that gave her the ability to change her body to almost any metal creation she could imagine. They manipulated the bones, the tissue and the vast amounts of minerals in her body to form any extension she wanted.

  Seeing no one in the hall, she gestured Conner in. Pressing her back against the wall, Conner did the same on the opposite side. She gestured for him to sweep the bottom floor while she indicated that she would go upstairs.

  Conner nodded in understanding and carefully moved off into the first room on his left. Terry glanced through the open door to the living room as she walked passed. There were no signs of anyone within. She sniffed but there was no scent. Odd, yet again, she thought.

  Turning her attention to the stairs, she slowly made her way up, walking at an angle to conceal the blade from the sight of anyone who might be standing on the landing above. Making it to the top of the stairs, she swept her room and the two spare ones, but there was no one there. Nothing had been disturbed, just like there was no sign of anyone ever having been there.

  She met Conner at the foot of the stairs. “I take it you found nothing.”

  “Nope, you?” but she already knew the answer. If there had been someone there would have heard the commotion.

  “There’s no one here. If there was, they’re gone.”

  “Nothing had been touched and there’s no scent either. What about down here?” she asked, making her way into the living room and flicking on the light.

  Conner shook his head. “Nah, nothing’s been touched.”

  Terry relaxed, the blade disappearing into her arm once again. “You must just not have shut that door properly.”

  Connor shook his head. “Sorry, I should have double checked.”

  “It’s alright.” Terry said, waving away his apology. She flicked on the light as she walked into the kitchen. She glanced around cautiously and then resumed what she had been doing before the lightning strike; taking the dishes to the sink. “I’m just glad the place wasn’t robbed while we were out.”

  “Yeah.” Connor agreed, looking at his watch. “Listen, I better go.”

  “Aye, no bother.” She wiped her hands on a tea towel and went to show him out. “Thanks for coming to see me anyway.”

  He smiled as he stepped out onto her doorstep. “It’s ok. It’s just nice to get to talk to you properly for a change.”

  She laughed. “Talk? We didn’t get to do much of that.”

  “Well, maybe next time. I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye.” She smiled, waving and shutting the door behind him.

  Terry locked it and sighed, realising how tired she was. Heaving her tired bones away from the door, she headed upstairs and back to her bed.

  ******

  Guests were still arriving at the party despite the late hour. Lyle Jones’ fifty acre estate had always been a magnet for the wealthy socialites looking for a drink and a wild time. Lyle was vain in his company. He was old enough to be a father and old enough to know better, yet he often trashed his own home just to show his peers a good time.

  Despite his gaunt figure, high cheekbones and greying hair, he always lived in the moment and partied like a man half his age.

  Sitting in an arm chair which had been pulled out into the court yard along with several other items of furniture Lyle sipped from a bottle of beer, overlooking the party atmosphere that folded before him. Two speakers had also been pulled out onto the lawn, to the end of their extensions and the courtyard had been turned into a makeshift dance floor.

  Drunken men and women danced about, other stumbling into one another from intoxication. One man lay flat on his back some distance away, asleep. Toward the end of the garden, where the lights began to fade Lyle could just see the outline of a drunken couple going at it.

  He took another long gulp of his beer and relaxed. He felt tired. Two parties in two nights had left him rundown. He looked around. The young blonde woman who had desperately been trying to get his attention earlier on had vanished. Usually he would be happy to oblige to any hot woman who gave him a hint of attention, but this night he was in no mood for it. His stomach gurgled loudly, causing him to wince for a moment. “Shut up.” He mumbled to himself before drowning the complaining organ with some more beer. But the liquid did nothing to quell his appetite. Instead, he found himself beginning to size up the meat that walked past. Catching himself, he rubbed his dry, tired eyes. “I must be hungry.” He told himself aloud.

  I must be if these fools are starting to look like snacks, he thought. Sitting the bottle aside he stood and headed to the kitchen. He side stepped two girls who were leaving the room and continued on in.

  He opened the fridge door, to have it shut again by someone’s hand. He looked around to see the young, hot thing, leaning against it with a charming smile on her face and a seductive pose. Lyle shut his eyes for a second before he could bring himself to talk to her. “Can I get in there please?” he asked politely.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, moving in between him and the fridge.

  “Yes.” He said softly. Please, move. His stomach gurgled again.

  “Then why not eat me? I’ll fill you up.” She said, running a finger down his chest.

  That’s not a bad idea. But he knew he would regret it if he did. Humans were very grisly. “Maybe later.” He smiled, carefully gliding her aside. Opening the door, he peered inside the fridge to see what he could scoff.

  The woman pouted, stung. “What is the matter? Do you not like me or something?”

  Lyle peered round the door. “No of course I do.” He turned his attention back to the fridge, picking out a plate full of cling film covered sausages.

  “Then what is it?”

  Lyle bit into one of the sausages and between chews said, “I’m not feeling to well this evening.” He turned away, taking the plate with him.

  She sneered, trailing after. Stepping in his way, she blocked his path. “You don’t look ill.”

  He shook his head while he licked his greasy fingers. “I get weird cravings when I’m sick.”

  She was not convinced. She gave the sausages a funny look. “If you eat all those you’ll make yourself even worse.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. “No, trust me, it won’t.” Pushing passed her; he left the kitchen, leaving the young woman raging.

  “Lyle.” said a voice in the distance.

  “Uncle Lyle.” It came again, this time closer.

  “Terry.” He mumbled without having to open his eyes. His voice sounded hoarse and dry and distant. He tasted vomit. The daylight stung his eyes when he opened them. Wincing, it took a few seconds for his niece to come into focus, standing over him. He forced a tired smile. “Morning.”

  Terry smiled back, taking his hand and pulling him up. The world spun for a moment as he came up into a sitting position. “Ah.” He moaned, his head aching from the sudden movement. He reached up and pressed a calming hand against the trouble spot.

  “Rough night?” she asked.

  Lyle surveyed the carnage. Everyone had gone but the mess had not. “You would think when you had a party the least guests could do would be help you tidy up afterwards.”

  “No one would come to your parties if they were expected to do that.”

  Lyle laughed through the taste of vomit and a stuffy head. “What can I do for you?”

  Terry shrugged. “Nothing, I don’t need a reason to come round and visit you do I?”

  He smiled back. “No not you.” He stumbled onto his feet, his arms flailing in circles as he struggled to catch his balance.

  Terry nearly had to offe
r him a helping hand but at the last second he caught his footing. “I’m okay, thanks.” He said, waving her away. He dug his hands into his pockets and stretched his back. Then he squinted at the sun. After a few seconds he looked at Terry and asked, “What day is it?”

  “Sunday.” She supplied.

  “Yeah...” he said, seemingly lost in a daze for a moment. He wiped his eyes again. “Do you want a cup of tea or something?” he offered.

  “Nah, your kitchen’s a mess.”