Authors Note: heyOOO its me :'D so once again, this one was delayed because of the holidays and the fact that im still working on getting my ged (halfway there baby!) so i should be updating regularly again by late january! thanks for sticking around ❤
Trigger warnings for this chapter: Alcohol, some very dumb innuendos
POV: Doyle
I stand before a maze of bookshelves, settled intently in front of one labeled "Historical Nonfiction - Q-S". The air carries old parchment and plastic covers. My hand gently skims the novels, hopping from spine to spine as I mentally recite the titles.
I come across one called "Sumer; Religion in Mesopotamia" and am quick to grab it, along with a few in the same corner. Once I start flipping through, my eyes can hardly parse the abstract drawings and names that can't roll off my mental tongue, but a few images do stand out. I recognize them from the papers once scattered across Doc's desk, from the holograms Drew could translate seamlessly as if she's reading a children's picture book, while I am completely lost. Still, I bring my discoveries back to the group.
"What'd you find?" I ask Zak, who's holding a collection even smaller than mine.
"Not a lot. . . most of it we already knew." He shrugs while plopping his pile onto the table in front of us. The top few in the stack are relevant, but my eyes travel to the colorful and thick book strategically positioned at the bottom, titled "Guinness Book of world records 2015". Nestled right above are some glossy comic books. In times like this, I try not to let myself forget he's 11. It's nice when he doesn't forget either.
The mood abruptly shifts when I catch Ila speed walking to our table, carrying a much heftier stack than ours.
"I used the computer log and found a bunch on Sumerian legends and not tryna be rude about your, uh, ancestors or whatever, but they were weird as fuck."
"We're used to it." I state with a shrug before turning my attention to the end of the table.
"And what did you find Van Rook?"
He's sitting with his feet up, eyes glued to a magazine.
"Working on it."
"Well Jesus Christ Cinderella, take a break, don't work yourself to death."
Paper crinkles as he hastily rolls it up and goes in for a smack, which I narrowly dodge, making him even grumpier. Zak, temporarily playing role of the only adult, brings our attention back to the books.
"Did you find anything good?"
Her response is an unsure hand wave.
"Ehh, not much, but here, take a look at this."
She flips to a page and points out a photograph, it's an etching of a man wearing what looks like a hat with 4 winding tiers. They're starkly reminiscent of the masked strangers we fought.
"They're called 'Anunnaki' or something. It says they were a group of Sumerian deities, their stories are kind of inconsistent though. "
I raise an eyebrow.
"They look like dumbasses."
"You know, everyone kinda looks like a dumbass to me nowadays." Ila remarks, her eyes not leaving the page.
Looking back upon my selection, I grab for the book on religion. When I get to the table of contents, lo and behold, Anunnaki is the first chapter. I gently slam it shut and put it back in our now not so pathetic pile of information.
"Allright, grab your stuff and let's study on the go. I'm not in the mood for having to host the world's first silent library brawl if those guys decide to pop in on us."
As we gather our books to check out, I happen to catch sight of our group in the security cameras.
Jeeeeeesus. What a shitshow.
While the outfit change definitely helped, my face situation is pretty messed up, dark red and purple patches already forming under my eyes and on my nose from operation headbutt. My millionth bad decision this week had almost been forgotten in place of focus, the lingering headache my only reminder. I can see Zak behind me, fiddling nervously with his hood, looking a bit overheated but reluctant to reveal any more of his face than he has to. Ila fumbles a bit as she sets down her stack at the service desk.
The librarian takes one look at us and lets out a sigh. Whatever it's directed at, spiritually I'm in agreement.
"Ila, you still haven't paid your fees from last time. It's almost $40 now."
A nervous laugh escapes her mouth as she leans against the desk, putting on her best ass kissing face.
"I know, but this is an emergency, I promise they'll make it back this time."
"Ila. I say this to you with love. You have most of Naruto checked out right now. Do you know how long Naruto is? I know how long Naruto is. You have to pay for this. "
She grinds her teeth with a defeated smile. While she's trying to think of her next tactic, Van Rook steps between us in an unexpected outburst.
"Uuuugh, you know what, if it'll get us out of here faster. . ."
He slides two $20 bills across the table. The jolt of surprise my body feels is enough to give me flashbacks to when I got cold water shock.
"WOAH, hold the fucking phone, since when do you offer to pay for something?"
He groans and rubs the bridge of his nose, in true angry dad that wants to go home fashion.
"The world is literally ending. If I have to spend my last dimes on a clue to stopping it, might as well!" He shouts, forgetting he's inside a library. The woman before us stops scanning for a moment to shoot him a dirty look.
"Okay, okay, get a move on before you blow a vein old man."
Before we head towards the exit I look for Zak to my left, then my right, and realizing I've come up with nothing, I do a full 180. He's about 10 feet back, standing at the doorway of a small break room, watching a small muted tv. I go to call out his name when I see that It's playing the news. According to the headline, it's a segment on why Venezuela is under martial law because of 'Kur Riots'.
As much as I hate to admit it, It's times like this where I feel some respect for Drew and Doc. (Some.) I can't imagine how often they come across a feeling like this, of utter hopelessness, paralyzed by not knowing what magic words you can say to fix the world your kid lives in. But, since they're not here, I have to make sure that even if I can't say something good, I can say something stupid enough to be funny.
"You think Van Rook's going for world record of most stereotypical Russian guy?"
There's not much of a reaction at first. But after a reluctant moment, his hardened eyes leave the screen and his face brightens.
"He was born with a bottle of vodka in his hand."
I smile back, glad that my jest was appreciated.
"Oh definitely. Bet he already had stubble, too."
He laughs and for a moment, even if it's just a moment, I accept that things feel okay. Okay is better than usual, after all. I hold that moment for as long as possible, and before I realize it we're outside and ready to go home. Unfortunately, there's not much to think about on a snowmobile. There's just the sound of an engine, and snow. And more snow. And more engine. So, when there's something new, no matter how mundane, the paranoia is hard to ignore.
My eyes can't help but follow what looks like a few large trails left by snowmobiles, larger and longer than ours. It strikes me as odd I guess, because this library is so close to city. There's not much need for snowmobiles to come here, unless they're visiting from far away like we are. "Okay" was fun while it lasted, I guess.
We take off. I see snow. And I hear an engine.
No. Engines.
". . . Hold onto something."
I make a sharp turn and then step on it. Van Rook makes a noise that can only be described as 'middle aged man on amusement park ride who was mislead by his children as to how fast it actually goes'. I motion for Ila and Zak to follow us.
"What's the matter?" She shouts once she's caught up to us
"Look behind us, do you see anyone?"
With a quick glance, she shakes her head. Both Van Rook and Zak also look around, but there's nothing to see beyond white. Okay, now I really do feel paranoid.
". . . Nevermind. Just stay close-"
The rev of a snowmobile cuts me off. Two shoot in from both sides to box us. Even being mentally prepared, I have to swerve hard to avoid being hit dead on. As soon as I correct my course, I uncorrect it to drift Fast and Furious style towards the one advancing on Zak and Ila's side. It veers and backs off, coming back to match my speed. I take this opportunity to catch a closer look at our confronters.
I'm surprised at the lack of masks. Their faces are exposed, besides being wrapped with fur lined hoods. All their clothes are dark and sleek, but they're otherwise a very diverse group. They hold a completely different vibe than the people we dealt with earlier. All synchronized. All staring. But they're just. People.
With Zak and Ila riding our tail now, I give another gesture to follow my lead, before cutting a sharp turn away from the city roads. We find ourselves on a particularly hilly area of the terrain. Good for losing bad guys, bad for driving in. Van Rook throws his head back and groans.
"Let me guess, 'hold onto something'?"
I smile apologetically and start zooming again, threading the needle between hills. In an attempt to follow, one of the snowmobiles starts zigzagging, eventually careening out of control over a snowbank. Haha. Been there, done that.
The other is keeping pace, but struggling quite a ways back. I start zooming between hill after hill, making sure Zak and Ila are right behind. I'd be impressed with her ability to keep up if I hadn't already lost a race to her in the past 24 hours. I keep going faster till the constant turns start to make me dizzy, and when I do finally pause look back, there's no one.
I see white. I hear an engine.
I decide to slow down to a reasonable speed. The sudden dip in action feels like we're all taking a moment to catch our breath. As usual though, the break is temporary.
". . . Sooo do we get to go home now?" Zak inquires.
I grimace. We can't head to the cabin until we're 100% sure we've lost them, having a reliable hideout is too important. On the flipside, if we stay out in the open for too long, we're asking to get caught again.
The look on my face as I mentally argue this seems to catch Ila's attention.
". . . We can go to my house if you want." Her suggestion comes out meak, despite her having to half yell over the engine.
"Are you sure?" I shout back.
"Yeah, I got a lot of places I can lay low. You guys don't."
I want to think it over for a moment, but truth be told I'm not sure if we have a moment. I give her a nod and let her lead the way.
Needless to say, by the time we get to Ila's, it's time for bed. Or rather, for Zak to go to bed. I usually stay up and do weird stressed out adult things till I pass out on the couch.
Approaching her home, it looked surprisingly large, but as we enter that feeling is completely inverted. It feels closed off, cozy. Half the rooms are dark, only illuminated by tvs and LED alarm clocks. The other rooms have dim lighting, her kitchen is the only one with full contrast. All the main rooms are connected around corners, except a few towards the other side of a long hallway, which I assume to be bedrooms. The living room holds a giant couch and flat screen to match, with various knick knacks scattered across a coffee table. It feels homier than any of the houses I've actually lived in.
Without a word, Van Rook heads to one of the bedrooms and shuts the door, most likely laying down so he can wake up at 7 AM like a true senior. I pick a corner to set down the bags from our snowmobile, gently, trying not to disturb the night time atmosphere. Zak drops his next to mine, a little less careful. I notice he's deep in thought, apparently not taking in any of the chill vibes.
"What's up?"
". . . I just miss Zon. I hope she's doing okay without us. . ."
I try to feign a helpful tone.
"We'll see her in the morning."
Ila, apparently having been gathering blankets and pillowcases, pokes her head around the corner to give her own encouragement.
"Besides, she's a cryptid, wasn't she accustomed to being alone at some point?"
I can physically see some of the weight come off his shoulders at her revelation. Damn it. Why didn't I think of that. Accepting defeat, I try to change the subject.
"Yknow, we're inside now, you can take your coat off if you want."
He doesn't look too thrilled at the suggestion, hands still gripped to his hood.
Ila suddenly looks deep in thought, walking past us and rummaging around inside a different closet. After a moment, she pulls out a small blue hat, with earflaps and strings on each side and an ornate puff ball on the end. She reaches it out towards him.
"You think this'll work?"
He smiles back, quite possibly the widest smile I've seen since we got to Alaska.
"It was my brother's when he was little. Well, one of them anyways."
"Your brother had a lot of hats?"
"Nah, I had a lot of brothers. And sisters. My parents had a whole mess of us, and when they couldn't have anymore they just started adopting. I bet I have more kid clothes around here somewhere if it doesn't fit."
He hurriedly puts the hat on, tucking hair up on each side before taking a glance at himself in the hallway mirror.
"It's perfect." He beams.
I want to be jealous, but the newly acquainted and not much appreciated angel of forced maturity on my shoulder tells me it's more important that he's happy. Besides, nobody can replace me. Except Drew. And Doc. And Zon, apparently. Maybe fisk too. Van Rook, if we were desperate. . . I guess Ila. Wow. Okay. This shit sucks. I hate being adulty. I wanna go back to throwing concussion grenades into Doc's room while he's sleeping. I don't think that's too much to ask.
"C'mon, sun's only down for a few hours." I state. Yes. That sounds responsible.
He stands up and stretches, taking his coat off on the way and dropping it lazily in the doorway, but purposely leaving his new hat on. Am I supposed to do anything? Tell him to brush his teeth? Go tuck him in? He's 11. Now I'm over analyzing it. Here we go. It's time for weird stressed out adult things.
I grab the snowmobile bags and curl up on a loveseat, pulling out a small radio and some headphones. I try to do this at least once a week, keep caught up on the kur pandamonium. I jump around from a couple different channels and it's nothing but static. A couple more attempts and what I have is a local news station. Probably not worth my time, but it's all I got. As they discuss tomorrows weather, I'm seeing the faces from the snowmobiles. I'm carving out their features in my mind, making sure to be on the lookout for the rest of our time here. As they discuss the opening of a new major park near Anchorage, I'm seeing the outline of the snowmobiles. They looked newer than ours, and so much more expensive. What were they wearing again? Black fur? Or was it black With fur? The channel starts cutting out. I smack it a few times, before it goes completely to white noise.
"You aren't gonna sleep?"
The question breaks through my concentration, and I look up to see Ila in front of me. Her hair is down, framing her face. Her outfit has changed to a tank top and pajama pants. The light from the tv is glowing around her. To see her, the ~doctor~, so casual and inviting, somehow transforms the environment back into something incredibly comforting. My frustrations and envy simmer a bit.
"Nah. Not uncommon for me, though."
Without missing a beat, she pops into the kitchen to pull a large bottle from a wine shelf.
"Want some?"
Well, in the past few months. I've worked hard at trying to become a responsible guardian, but sometimes a bitch has just gotta turn up.
"Pour it directly into my mouth, please."
She me a large mug. Good enough. I pound it all back. I'm not a huge wine fan, so who knows, maybe it'll bore my party genes into sleep. When I put my cup down, she fills it up again, alternating between the two of us. Before long, the bottles gone, and she's grabbing another.
I guess when it comes down to it, she's not the perfect guardian either.
"Ssso. You're a doctor." I slur out, trying to make converssation.
"Eyup."
"Have you ever. . . removed a. . . bone?" I questin.
". . . Nope."
"Never?" I sit up and stare at her in disbeleif. She shakes her h ead.
"Never." She repsonds.
"Could you . . if you like. . . HAd to?"
"It's not really a. . . a common solution." Her facce appears too be genuinly lost in her thouhgts as she speaks. Shes starign blankly at the wall. I lean in.
"Prove yourself to me. Remove. One of my bones. Right now." I demadn.
". . .Why would you w ant me-"
"I just wanna know what would hAppen." I defend, loudtly.
"Your bones would be gone! Is wHat would happen!" She'ss tryign hard not to laufgh.
"JUST- Remove like ONE, like a SMALL one, so we can test the. . ." I forgett the wor d 'medicinal' for a monment. "The properties of it."
"I dont have my bone removal equipment."
"What?" My voice is thicc with judgement at her l ack of profesionalism.
"Go d Doyle, you have to get an APPOINTMENT for that kind of thing, it takes MONTHS. There are. COPAYS."
"Wait wait wait, I got a bone you can get rid of right now-" I start unziping my pantsz clumsily. She bursts out lau ghing, I can't tell if it's m y clever joke, or the sight of me strugling so hard trying to find my d!ck.
"You need some help?"
"Yeah it's just. . . been a while. . . I MEAN," I try quickly t o backpedtal.
"That is-" She laughs. "N ot a hot thing to say."
"Listen it's fine, yknow, it's just like. . . riding a bike." I catchj myself. "SORRY, fucking a bike."
We loose ou r dumb, drunkken sh it. She tries to compocse herself long enough for a respondse.
"Okay, First I fuck my bike. . ." I take a deep br eahte.
"And then I ride my wife."
We're in tearse, in a pile on the fl oor.
"I hate you so muuuch"
"Not enough to remove my bones though!" I shoutt, with faux (foe?) anger.
"Oh I see, that was the plan. Just frustrate me into a blind, b one stealing rage."
I shrujg.
"Maybe. Does the thought of that make you mad. . . So mad you might jjust. . ." I pull on my armn, makign an impresively realistic click so und with my mouht.
We laugh agin, this time it fades and becomes a soothing silencse. Wine makess me tired af ter all.