Heirloom

I stood beneath the steel awning, listening to the pattering of heavy raindrops above me. Glass panels extended down to about my ankles, allowing the rain to sneak through the bottom and lick my sneakers. I knew I should have gone with the boots today.

For the fourth time in as many minutes, I turned my wrist to check my watch. Nine twenty-seven. The bus was now eighteen minutes late.

A man approached from across the street, his long wet hair clinging to a ruined suede jacket. He made no effort to hurry into the relative cover of the bus stop.

“You looking for the 9:09 or the 10?” I asked, hoping to get a response that made him seem somewhat less like a serial killer.

He reached upward and grabbed at his long, black beard, smoothing it out with one quick motion. “Neither,” he said. That wasn’t helping his case.

“Well, one’s late,” I said, shifting my weight, “or it came early and I’ve been waiting for nothing. The other one doesn’t show half the time.”

He turned his head to look down at me, towering at least a foot taller. As his gaze fell to the pendant on my neck, his eyes narrowed.

“Where’d you get that,” he asked.

I furrowed my brow. “Get what?”

A long, bony finger hovered inches from my necklace. “That.”

I wrapped my fingers around it, taking a step back. “Family heirloom. It’s not worth anything.”

He closed the gap between us, still holding his finger in the air. “Don’t you lie to me. I know what that is. So either you’re hiding who you really are, or you’ve been tricked into something you couldn’t fathom.”

Another step backward pinned me against the glass panel. My heart began not race as he matched my step, blocking my exit.

“It’s just some colorful rock,” I said. “I don’t know what you’re on, bud, but there’s nothing special about this. Now, please, step back.”

His lip curled up as his nostrils flared. “I said don’t lie to me, boy,” he said, lifting a hand toward my jacket collar. A hint of a strange accent slipped through, though I didn’t take the time to try and place it. Instead, I squirmed to my left, toward the corner, just avoiding his grasp.

“Get the fuck away from me,” I said, lifting a leg to kick. If I could just get him to move a little, I could run past him.

“That pendant ain’t yours,” he said. “And you can’t go flaunting it around like that. Not while they’re here.”

He shoved my leg aside as I kicked, throwing me off balance. I fell backward into the glass, my head banging hard against it. For a moment, my vision blurred. It was long enough for him to grab ahold of me with his right hand.

As he pulled me closer to him, he muttered something in a guttural language I didn’t recognize. Then he stepped back, shoving me away from him in the process.

I felt a sudden warmth on my chest. Reflexively, I lifted a hand to my pendant, feeling a strange, almost electric vibration. My eyes fell to it and saw a dull, yellow light shimmering across its surface.

“What the hell?” I muttered, losing myself for a moment in its patterns.

“Christ, you really don’t know, do you,” the man said.

I glanced up at him, unsure wether to demand an explanation or just to run. After a brief second of staring at his cold, dull eyes, I opted to run.

One foot landed in a puddle outside of the bus stop before I felt my jacket tighten. The man had grabbed my collar, and once again yanked me back inside. He pushed me down with his right hand, his left still in his jacket pocket, and stood over me.

“You need to stop trying to get away from me,” he said. “Else you’re gonna end up dead on the streets, and that pretty rock of yours is gonna fall into the wrong hands.”

I glanced down at the stone, its shimmer faded. Perhaps it never happened in the first place. Maybe I was just concussed.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked. Maybe I could get him talking, let him lower his guard. Then I could run.

“Your only hope of survival,” he said. “And at this rate, humanity’s as well.”

I glanced around, looking for any sign of help. The street was deserted. No one ever wanted to travel in the rain. I’d curse the city for being so damned wet all the time if I could.

Play his game, then. That’s what I decided. I just needed to play along until someone strolled by. Or until I saw my opening.

“You aren’t going to run from me, kid,” he said. “I see you looking for a way out. I’m telling you, it ain’t gonna happen.”

“If I’m so important, why threaten me,” I asked.

He shook his head. “You ain’t important. The stone is. You just happened to be the one with it.”

Christ, the man was legitimately out of his mind. I knew the city’s drug problem was on the rise, but this was pushing my limit. Maybe it was finally time to give up this dream and move back home.

A low rumble rose in the distance, and I turned my head to see a large, silver bus rounding the corner a few blocks down. My heart leapt. This was my chance. I just needed to stall long enough for the bus to get here.

The man’s eyes lifted, peering through the glass behind me. His brow fell. “They’re coming,” he said.

I turned and looked through the panel. Rain slid down its surface. The red brick building behind us stood as still as ever, showing no signs of life within. Not even a stray cat.

Then a strange, putrid smell rose to the air. I paused, searching for the nearest sewer drain, unsure how such a smell could appear so rapidly. But then a strange motion caught my eye, and my stomach churned.

The drops on the window began to flow upward. They rose to the tip of the window and turned to steam, rising from the bus stop like a stovetop. Every passing second they flowed faster, taking a wider path.

I turned to see the bus at the nearest intersection, waiting for a signal.

“The hell is this,” I said, standing. The air turned still, humidity growing rapidly. Down the street, the bus engine revved hard as it started its final stretch toward us.

“Ifryn,” he said. I didn’t recognize the word, or the language it might have come from.

The bus pulled to a stop in front of us, the door swinging open. I’d never been so relieved to breathe in the heavy, leaden smell of burning diesel. I pushed forward, past the man, and stepped into safety.

“I’ll find you when it’s safe,” he said, staring.

I stared at him as the doors closed, heavy rain on the windows obscuring my sight. Behind him, for just a moment, I saw a red and yellow flicker. And, despite my better senses, I could have sworn I saw eyes.

I found my seat and relaxed, fiddling with my necklace, hoping to never see that man again.

*****

THE END.