"Imagine yourself on a train...You have somewhere very important to be and time is running out despite how fast you are hurtling towards your destination. You see, time doesn't care, though. You might think you have more time or less but it ticks at the same speed no matter what. You are to blame for being late. You think that you never have enough time, do you? Maybe if I just did this or prayed to this god, I would have enough time is what you think, but that won't happen because time listens to no one." Time had paused then, leaning forward to take a sip from his strawberry milkshake. The diner was quiet at this time of night, the world outside the window an odd shade of orange. Rain dripped down the neon illuminated window. "Anyways, you are on a train that just can't quite seem to go fast enough and you gaze out the window and suddenly in the reflection, you see something. Is it someone or something you wanted to see? Or does it surprise you? Either way, the question is, does this change your path? Is it a warning? Or encouragement? And what if I told you that this reflection is a window into the past? You are are seeing something that happened in the past in this exact moment."
"I think that depends on what you see." The God of Revenge had said, dipping a French fry into a pile of ketchup on his plate.
"Let's say that you see someone who is dead. Does your path change?"
"Yes. Because seeing someone dead probably means that you yourself will die soon. This is silly. It doesn't make sense, Luke."
"Even if you love this soul? And what if they are telling you that you have to stay on the train no matter what because your own death waits for you? Would you give up what you are in a rush for?"
"No." Jonathan had leant back in his seat, his fingernails tapping against his glass. "Because time doesn't care. Death comes when it comes. No point in fighting it."
"Ugh...You're useless. Apollo likes these questions a lot more." Luke had sighed. "Are you going to eat those?" Luke had pointed to Jonathan's plate which he pushed towards him. "Have you seen Evan recently? I'm a bit...concerned about him."
"Why? Evan is fine."
"No...No, he isn't. Take care of him, Jonathan. You are about to make a difficult choice. Let what is dead stay dead."
Now, the bright Los Angeles sun rose over the sparkling ocean. Life filled the city. Palm trees reached for the bright blue sky, cars passing underneath them towards sparkling destinations. One of these cars was an old blue chevy, the engine rumbling at stop lights before roaring back to life as the driver stepped on the gas. The paint sparkled in the hot summer light, a gentle cool breeze drifting through the open windows as the car drove past the beach. On a day like this, it made sense if someone would feel like they were missing out. The car pulled over as the driver reached for his phone in his pocket, snapping a picture of the busy beach.
Jonathan wasn't sure why he kept taking pictures of the daytime, Evan wasn't around to enjoy them anymore. Maybe it was because it was a habit, but it was mostly because he wasn't over what happened yet. How could anyone move past that? After what he had seen, he didn't want to see another God ever again but in a city like this, he was bound to see them constantly.
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he put the car back into drive and continued down the street. He found himself going for drives more often now, the wind whipping through the open windows and the roar of the engine deafening to him, drowning out the sounds of the world around him. He could go anywhere, but he always came back to L.A. There wasn't anything for him here anymore but he kept coming back. He would drive all the way to Arizona only to turn back around and come back by the time night fell on the sprawling city. Time wasn't around anymore, and Nyx was gone. He didn't want to see Tyler ever again and everyone else meant nothing to him. Even Dionysus. He wanted to keep driving, to keep driving till he couldn't anymore but he kept turning around as if there would be meaning when he came back.
Maybe he kept coming back because he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He didn't know what it was, but something was different. It didn't fit into the normality that had settled back onto the world. Maybe once he knew what it was, he could leave but for now, he found himself back on the highway, the wind pulling at his hoodie as the car sped up. Today he had no destination. He would go where he felt in the moment. For now, he was content to keep going straight. When he got close to the edge of the city, he turned off the highway, coming to a stop at a red light next to a sleek orange sports car.
"Hey!" A voice called out over the roar of the engines. Jonathan turned to see Marcel sitting in the driver's seat of the orange car. He smiled slightly as the light turned green and the orange car sped down the street. Glad for a distraction from his thoughts, he stepped on the gas and followed the trickster God, catching up to him as he turned suddenly onto a quieter street. Jonathan followed, the car in front of him slowing to a stop. A few moments later, the God got out of the car, motioning for Jonathan to do the same.
"What?" Jonathan called out as he got out, leaning against the open door.
"Have you heard the rumours?" Marcel asked as he walked towards him, leaning against the hood of the blue car.
"No. And I don't want to. I especially don't want to hear them from you. I've had enough of Gods." Jonathan spat as he started to get back into his car. Marcel stopped him before he closed the door. "Fuck off." Jonathan warned, his hand ready to grab the knife hidden in his right boot.
"I think you should go pay Tyler a visit." Marcel said, his tone too dark for the cheerful words.
"No."
"Not even to ask Dionysus if anyone else has stopped by recently?" Marcel's smile widened, clearly enjoying taunting the other God.
"I said fuck off, Marcel!" Jonathan yanked the door from his grasp and closed it. He put the car in reverse and backed out of the alley to the street, not looking back till he was far away. "He's fucking with me…" Jonathan decided, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "He's fucking with me." He repeated with more certainty.
Jonathan suddenly turned the car around, driving back to the highway. "Fuck this city." Once on the highway, he sped up, driving east till there was no more buildings but open desert around him. This time he would keep driving. This time he wouldn't turn around. Those Gods wanted to mess with him, they must still be pissed about what happened.
Jonathan knew that they weren't supposed to talk about it. No one was allowed to talk about it. A few weeks ago, he had tried to talk to Brock about what happened but he had frozen up and walked away from Jonathan as if he were a stranger. Jonathan hadn't spoken to him since. Brock seemed scared, he seemed captured. He wasn't the same anymore. Something had happened but Jonathan didn't know what. His hand tightened on the wheel, shaking his head. It wasn't his business and he shouldn't care anymore. He wanted nothing to do with Tyler after what he made him do. He had Evan's blood on his hands now because Tyler was a coward. He wanted to wake Evan up, wanted him to live with the guilt and the pain. He didn't know tired Evan was. He didn't want to let him sleep. Jonathan prayed that he had listened and didn't go back for the Night God. He couldn't even think about what he would do if that happened. He didn't want Evan to suffer, but he also couldn't let him go a second time.
Jonathan turned off the highway, not realising till now how far he had driven and how low the sun had gotten in the desert sky. He drove down the quiet road, dust and cacti lining the hot pavement. Jonathan reached for the radio, hoping that with loud music, his thoughts would be drowned out and he would keep driving into the night. The sky was turning a dark colour of red, the clouds looking like clots of blood and flesh. Jonathan never liked how the desert looked at this hour of day, feeling more like he was in a hellish landscape than California. Cacti looked like figures, still and watching in the darkening light. The nighttime wasn't beautiful anymore to Jonathan. It was disturbing.
Jonathan's eyes looked up, seeing something large on the road illuminated by his headlights. "Fuck!" Jonathan swerved, the tyres throwing up the dust at the side of the road before Jonathan managed to get the car back on the empty road. It was now that Jonathan noticed how quiet the road was, the silence hanging heavy over the dark. "The hell was that?" Jonathan caught his breath and pushed open the car door, looking back down the road.
Some large lay on the pavement. It wasn't a human. Jonathan walked down the road cautiously, reaching for the golden dagger in his boot. After everything that had happened, he wasn't going to go anywhere without one now.
It was a pig. A dead pig. Ripped from throat to hind legs, blood spilling onto the hot pavement. The stench made Jonathan gag. Its eyes were wide open, having died full of fear. Maggots crawled among its spilt organs. Jonathan stared down at the dead pig, knowing that this wasn't just road kill. It was meant for him.
Jonathan looked up, his gaze searching the the empty desert. Among the dying heatwaves floating over the earth, Jonathan could have sworn that he saw someone out there, looking back at him. Jonathan knew that he had seen that figure before, had seen those bent backwards legs and bloody horns before. "What do you fucking want?" Jonathan screamed at the devil. A laugh echoed over the dust. Jonathan knew what he had to do. He ran back to his car, fighting down the feeling of dread building inside of him. He started up the car, barely closing the door before he stepped on the gas and spun the car around. The blue car sped past the dead pig and roared back down the way it had come.
"It was back just before Rome fell...The Roman gods were finding dead pigs. No one ever found out where they came from but everyone knew they were threats. Then Rome fell and no one cared about the Roman Gods anymore." Luke had explained once. Jonathan couldn't remember why they were talking about it. Another thought pushed that one away. Something knew that he would drive down that road when he didn't know that he would. And worse...Did it have something to do with what Marcel told him? Did something not want him to go to Tyler's club? He decided to ignore the threat and go there.
"Imagine yourself on a train...You have somewhere very important to be and time is running out despite how fast you are hurtling towards your destination. You see, time doesn't care, though. You might think you have more time or less but it ticks at the same speed no matter what. You are to blame for being late…"
"Yeah yeah, Luke." Jonathan waved his hand as if Luke were sitting in the car beside him. "Time doesn't care." Jonathan only slowed down when he reached the highway, not wanting to crash into some innocent human just trying to get home after a long day. The city grew up around him as he drove, bright lights reflecting off his car. He turned off the highway, driving through the busy L.A streets.
Turning onto the small street, the sidewalk beside the club was packed with people, all waiting to get inside. He had heard all of the talk about this club. Humans thought it was magical. Dancing girls that seemed to glow, a bartender who could make any drink that seemed to make everyone feel wonderful no matter what their troubles were and an owner in a sleek suit and bright eyes that pulled you in. Some humans said that if the owner liked you, he could give them anything. It was that rumour that made Jonathan wonder; what could war give that was so wonderful? The blue car came to a stop out front of the club. Jonathan checked the dagger in his boot and pulled a handgun from the glove compartment, tucking it inside his jacket. Getting out of the car, a rotten apple crunched under his boot. He looked down at it, the black goo oozing out from under his shoe. Scraping his shoe off on the pavement, he hurried up to the bouncer who recognised him and let him in.
Jonathan pushed through the crowd, wondering if he should find Tyler. He looked up at the stairs but decided that he couldn't face him. So he made his way to the bar, finding Brock there, illuminated by blue neon light, surrounded by glasses and bottles.
"I need to talk to you." Jonathan didn't even say hello.
"J-Jon? W-What are you doing here?" Brock seemed surprised, his eyes glancing nervously to the stairs.
"I just said. I need to talk to you. Outside." Jonathan didn't wait for him, only turning his back and headed back to the door. He knew that Dionysus would follow. He always did. Once outside, the thump of the music now dimmer, he could hear himself think. Brock stepped out, following Jonathan a little ways down the sidewalk away from the crowds.
"What's going on?"
"Who's been here?" Jonathan snapped. Brock seemed confused.
"What does that mean? I don't know! Tyler's got so many people coming in and out recently, how am I supposed to keep track of them all?" Brock cried. Jonathan grit his teeth. "You've been such a dick since…" No one was supposed to talk about it.
"Did Tyler go back on his word?" Jonathan said quietly. Brock froze. His silence should have answered him but Jonathan didn't want his answer. He didn't want to know what Tyler had done but he had to force those words out. "Did he wake Evan up?"
"No." Brock met Jonathan's gaze full on. "No one has been here that you care about. Evan still has a dagger in his chest in Greece. If you come back here yelling about that again, Tyler's going to hear about it." Jonathan stared at him, wondering if he knew about the pig.
"Screw this." Jonathan turned away from Brock, walking towards his car. As he reached his car, he felt watched. That creeping sensation crawled up his spine, making him tense up. He turned, looking around the crowd. Brock had already gone back inside and no one was looking at him. So he looked up. It was dark, the faint glow of the neon light barely reaching the roof of the club but Jonathan saw it. To him it was a shadow, outlined in red quickly moving away from the edge of the roof, not wanting to be seen. Jonathan stared up at the roof for a few moments, wondering what he had seen. What he was certain of though was that Brock wasn't telling him the truth. However, he decided that he could do nothing right now, not with so many humans around.
Kicking the rotten apple away from his car, he got in and sped off down the street, the loud engine startling some of the people waiting to get inside the club. He would keep driving tonight. He was going to keep driving no matter what. There was nothing here for him but liars and cowards. Liars and cowards, and nothing more.
As the moon went higher into the night sky, the stars hidden away by the lights, Jonathan drove. He was far outside of Los Angeles, realising as the clock on his dash ticked to one am that he had gone north. He pulled over to the side of the road, looking out the window to the ocean which looked like a black mass except for where the moonlight was reflected, sparkling in the dim white light. He couldn't drive anymore. The nagging feeling returned. Instead of turning around, he got out of the car and leant against it, looking out over the ocean.
"You always seem to know when something is wrong." Evan had said once, smiling up at Jonathan.
"That's the whole point of me. I'm the God of Revenge, after all. I know when people do something wrong. You've never done anything wrong." Jonathan had said, smiling back. That night had a rosy haze whenever he remembered it. "Revenge." Jonathan said now, watching the waves. He had never felt this before because he was always dealing with other people's revenge. He had never felt this kind of steady rage before and it felt good to recognise what it was. "I have a job to do." With that, Jonathan got back in his car.