The Shield

Joe stood up and moved away from Frank and Chet. The wind column, which now had them completely cut off from the rest of the world, wobbled and expanded. It looked as if it was observing and orienting itself to keep Joe firmly within the confines of the madly revolving wind trap.

Frank dragged his eyes away from his brother and turned his focus on Chet. He looked worse. He had turned into a sickly grey and the veins looked like they were spreading even more. He slowly placed two fingers on Chet's pulse and was completely taken aback when the black, ink-like substance in his friend's vein seemed to withdraw rapidly away from the point his own fingertips made contact.

It almost looked like it moved away from me, it occurred to him suddenly. Just like what happened with Joe's hand. Before he could even begin to understand what just happened, Joe yelled.

"Frank, get ready!"

Looking up, he realised his brother was beginning to distract the supernatural twister in earnest. Whenever Joe moved closer to the visible wind currents, the column shrank away from his immediate vicinity, while simultaneously contracting closer to him from the sides. This wobble was causing the eye of the storm to centre around Joe, and the edge of the eye was moving closer and closer to Frank and Chet, the wind barrier thinning around the edges.

Chet showed no signs of waking up, even though whenever Frank touched him on the arm or neck, the poison vanished. Frank figured he would have to carry Chet to the other side of the stream in order to cut him completely off from whatever force that was draining his life. He took a deep breath and hauled Chet's six-foot frame weighing hundred and sixty pounds smoothly into a fireman's carry with a grunt.

"Now!"

With Chet's heavy body limp on his back, he ran through the thinning twister in a headlong rush towards the direction he was sure where the stream flowed. The wind rose around him in fury and its piercing wails of defiance hurt his ears. The flying debris caught in the wind battered at his exposed face painfully. He kept his eyes narrowed in a squint as he ran, barely enough to see where he was going.

The wind died as suddenly as it had swelled, which told him that he was out of the influence of the mad twister and the forces that control it. He blinked to clear his vision and kept going, barely slowing down as he approached the stream that was growing rapidly into a small river in the rain that was pouring down in sheets. He hadn't realised the change in weather inside the eye of the freak storm.

Crossing the gushing water and its strong current with Chet's weight was one of the hardest things he had done as far as he could remember. Frank felt as if his friend gained more weight by the second as he struggled to put one foot in front of the other as cautiously as he could on the slippery, muddy and occasionally rocky bottom of the stream. He couldn't afford to slip and fall, dropping Chet into the water with him. They would both end up injured worse and Frank wasn't sure he had the energy to pick up his heavy friend again. The adrenaline surge that had him going was waning fast and he had to get himself and Chet to the other side as soon as possible.

Most importantly, he couldn't afford to waste any more time before getting back to his brother. The words of the old lady at the emporium rattled around his brain as he struggled to cross the stream.

You do not let him out of your sight, yes?

He continued to advance through the stream with gritted teeth and stubborn determination at what felt like a snail's pace. The water crashed against his knees, pushing and pulling him toward the direction of the rapid currents. The rain continued to fall in sheets, drenching him and Chet to the bone, adding even more weight and visibility issues to his already very difficult task.

He was more than willing to let Joe have the lead in dealing with whatever this was, although he was still reluctant to fully give into these ghost stories and supernatural beliefs just yet. It was already obvious that Joe's instincts were astoundingly accurate when it came to dealing with this strange and extremely dangerous force. But, his big brother instincts were screaming at him to get to Joe as fast as he could, that he really shouldn't leave him alone for too long. His brother was dealing with something they had never dealt with before, acting purely on his gut feelings. Frank knew that Joe would need all the help to get out of that damn twister and the weird things in it, alive.

After what felt like a struggle of hours, he finally set foot on the solid ground on the opposite bank of the stream. By some minor miracle, he managed not to drop Chet like a wet sack onto the muddy ground. He fell to his knees next to Chet's still form and unbuttoned his shirt with trembling fingers. The black veins stood apart in stark contrast to Chet's pale and drenched skin, still wriggling and moving through him in rapid movements, showing no signs of fading. Muttering a few fervent prayers, Frank placed both his cold, wet hands on Chet's torso, hoping the slimy poison would react the same way they had earlier.

Blinking to see against the rain that was still pelting down hard all around him, he saw the exact moment the black ink started to dissolve from Chet's bloodstream. It was rather an extraordinary thing to witness, and Frank had to marvel at the way it all seemed to flow rapidly towards the points his hands made contact with Chet's bare skin to pool into tiny little black spots before disappearing without a trace.

Chet moaned softly and opened his eyes when the last of the black spots vanished from his skin.

"F-Frank?" he blinked and stuttered, shivering hard in the cold rain.

Frank ran a hand roughly across his face to wipe the water and summoned up a tired smile. "Hey Chester, welcome back."

"Wh-what h-happened?"

"That's a great question. How are you feeling?"

Chet hugged himself and shivered some more, looking miserable. "Tired," he mumbled softly and closed his eyes. "Did I get h-hit by a truck or s-something?"

"Or something," Frank muttered. He had to get Chet inside shelter from the rain. "Here, you think you can get up if I help you?"

Chet opened his eyes again and let out a weary sigh. "Probably."

Frank got to his feet and extended a hand that Chet clasped with his own. Then he pulled him up with a grunt and supported his friend when he swayed alarmingly to the side.

"Alright?"

"Oh, boy, head rush," Chet muttered, leaning heavily against Frank's shoulder.

Frank gave him a moment to catch his breath and regain his balance. When Chet gave him a nod that he was ready, they both started to slowly move towards the toolshed where Frank had parked their van earlier. He unlocked the van and helped Chet into the back, who flopped on the seat with a groan. He closed the door and got in the front to start the engine and crank the heat up, knowing it would warm up soon enough. Then he dug his phone out of the inner jacket pocket and pushed it into Chet's hand, causing him to startle awake from the short doze he had slipped into.

Chet rubbed his eyes with a knuckle and stared at the phone with a frown on his face, contemplating whom he should be calling right about now. Their entire situation was freaky enough, even Frank had no idea who could actually arrive in time to help.

"Maybe call your landline?" he suggested with a shrug. "Your mom and dad might be home.'' He didn't want Chet to walk all the way back by himself to their house in the rain. He still hadn't completely recovered from his ordeal and the van provided both shelter and warmth for the moment. "And wait here until I get back."

"Where are you going?" Chet asked, looking up. Before Frank could reply, he figured it out himself. "Where's Joe?"

"He's still back there," Frank said, gazing through the blurry windshield worriedly. The opposite side of the stream stayed hidden behind the thick, forbidding cloud of white fog.

"Go," Chet said. He still looked tired. But he was gaining some colour and the chills seemed to be fading as the interior warmed up. "I'll be fine. I'll get dad to get me a change of clothes if they are back."

With a nod to Chet, Frank got out of the van and hurried back towards the stream and the thicket beyond the thick, gloomy curtain of mist, hoping and praying that he wasn't too late to get to his brother.