The Demons New Princess, page 4
Stop being such a fucking failure, Marley Jean, you’re such a fucking disappointment. I stop rocking the thought, making me realize I’m having a panic attack. My mother’s voice is never the voice of reason. No, MJ, that’s not true. Fuck her. She doesn’t know anything about us. Push her thoughts away. What’s another trick she’s taught you? My heart pounds. Counting. You like counting, remember? And counting backwards from one hundred usually helps.
100. 99. 98. 97… Count, MJ, count
93. 92. 91. 90… Why do you count backwards?
85. 84. 83. 82. 81… Because the last number gives you a definite stopping point, remember?
77. 76. 75. 74. 73. 72. 71… Remember to breathe with each number; in through the nose, out through the mouth.
65. 64. 63. 62…
I keep counting, my internal voice reminding me of my therapist, though I’m becoming coherent enough to realize I’m just talking to myself in the third person. The kids’ cries and shouts are becoming clearer now, and I can hear Joey complaining about having to get stuck with the most dysfunctional adult to save them. Imani’s little cries showing her fear fracturing my heart.
I’ve got to pull myself out of this for those kids. I can’t leave them alone. It’s not right for these kids to be left by themselves because someone’s too busy dealing with their own personal bullshit. We all may not have asked to be here, but the older we get, the stronger we become. They aren’t at that point yet. I need to get myself together.
As I open my eyes, something whacks me in the face.
Ow! What the hell?
A pillow falls into my lap, and I tilt my head to see Joey staring at me, anger radiating from his eyes. Glancing over to Imani, I notice worry and fear coming from her almost as strongly as Joey’s anger. I can’t believe I let myself have a panic attack in front of two kids.
You’re supposed to be the adult in this situation. You completely failed them already. We haven’t even left my house yet. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Hello! Earth to MJ!” Joey shouts, his face up close and personal with mine. I recoil, another memory trying to emerge, but I forcefully suppress it. I can’t fall apart like that again, and I don’t want to confront those memories ever, but especially right now.
“S-sorry, but don’t-don’t yell in my face like that. Okay? It won’t end well for any of us.” I explain, attempting to pull myself together.
“What are you going to do?” Joey barks at me.
My eyes blaze as I watch Joey sit back in his spot, his little jerk attitude grating on my nerves, but as I look at him, I notice flickers of understanding, so, taking a few more deep breaths, I decide to drop it.
“Our options are limited. We should go somewhere safer with more food and adults.”
“You are an adult,” Imani says.
“An adultier adult then. I don’t know how to care for children. I can barely take care of myself,” I explain.
“We can’t go out there! Did you miss the arm-tearing thing running around?” Joey shouts at me.
My eyes flash red with a heartbeat, the way he acts like I’m not attuned to the dangers we all are going to face pushing a button inside me. I open my mouth to answer, but a loud scream and growl echoing in from outside silences me in a heartbeat. Blinking my vision clears as I catch myself lightly scratching at my leg to the beats of my heart. Stop that MJ. Shaking my hand out to remind myself scratching isn’t healthy.
He’s right. What stops them from coming in? A few inches of thick wood? Yeah right. What’s stopping them from triggering another earthquake that levels this place? MJ stop, no catastrophizing right now, it’s not helpful to anything but your anxiety.
“No. I didn’t miss it, but I also don’t think just sitting here waiting for our deaths is a good option either.” They both look at me, mouth agape. “I want you guys to get one thing straight. I will not sugarcoat shit for you. I am a blunt, forward bitch who swears like a trucker, but that is going to be helpful here because you guys need to know the risks right here and right now. We are royally screwed either way. We don’t know if there are even any actual people at the high school-”
“Then why should we go there?” Joey spits.
I glare at the boy, pissed at being interrupted and doubted again. “Sitting here is a death sentence. We’re waiting for the creatures to jump and destroy the door. Here we are sitting ducks and for sure are going to die. It’s just a matter of when. I think we need to move. We need to get out of here and try to find more people in a situation like this. There is power in numbers. However, there are also issues if we are too big of a group, so we have to be cautious either way.”
“How are we going to get there?” Imani asks.
“We will have to walk. I don’t have a car.”
“You expect us to walk God knows how far with no protection from those things running loose?”
“I said nothing about being unprotected.” I smile as the kids stare at me as if I’d grown a second head. My body, oddly stiff, as I stand up and unlock my spare bedroom. Pushing the door open, I gesture for the kids to look inside.
“Holy shit.” Joey gasps.
“Joey!” Imani starts but stops short, her mouth hanging open as she steps through the doorway.
This room is always locked because it has my weapons collection in it. My mom trained me a long time ago in many forms of martial arts and with any form of weapon she could get her greedy little hands on. Except guns I refuse to keep guns in my house, which has the lead scientist of Gonzalez Laboratories, the world’s leading climate and atmospheric research facility, aka my mother, on edge because she believes I should carry one around with me everywhere. ‘You never bring a knife to a gunfight’ was always her reasoning, but my arrows are truly aimed and just as deadly. They don’t give away my position and most people don’t know how to use them, so they can’t be turned against me.
“So, in here we have my three-custom made English longbows with bow bags, string silencers, quivers, tip protectors, and arrows, of course.” I walk deeper into the armory, my panic finally subsiding. “Two bronze swords, two Celtic swords, a cutlass, a Viking sword, two Katanas, a new England axe, a ten piece tactical axe set, a six-piece hatchet collection, a broad axe, a Viking axe, a three-piece tomahawk set, four throwing axes, twelve pocket knives, a handful of hunting knives, three machetes, some butterfly knives, a twenty-five piece throwing knife set, a drawer of throwing stars, a crossbow, couple clubs, two bow staffs, a couple batons, and a bolo.” I grin down at the kids as they stare at my weapons mouths still glued to the floor. “I’ll set you guys up with a small package to carry the weapons and teach you the basics of one, so if we get separated, or you have to fight, you can defend yourself.”
Watching the kids is interesting. Joey instantly walks to the swords but after a few seconds he’s drawn to the axes, the hatches mostly.
I think that’s what I’ll teach him. I’m a firm believer in the best weapon chooses you; you don’t choose it.
Imani, on the other hand, is staring at my small machete, which on her is probably more of a sword, but I’ll do my best to show her how to use it. Reluctantly, I pull my weapons from the room, moving all of us towards my bedroom, where I keep all my spare bags and have all my clothes. After a quick search, I find bags the kids can easily carry when full. Sending Joey into the shower first; I stuff clothes into each bag. They may be big on them, but some clothes are better than no clothes and hopefully once we get to the school they’ll have clothes that will actually fit them all.
Next, I carefully pack the limited canned food, silverware, and reusable items into the bags, ensuring they don’t become too heavy. My go bag only having enough for me since I’ve only ever had to worry about myself. Then I work on my weapons. Luckily, I always keep safety measures on them, sheaths and covers and whatnot, so they are easy to pack up.
To fit everything, I’ll have to carry two bags. It’s stupid that I have to push myself harder just to make sure we all make it. Why doesn’t everyone prepare their kids for a disaster and make sure they are strong enough to survive it? Like seriously, it’s not fair, but I also can’t just leave them to it themselves and hope for the best. Especially if I want all my stuff to make it there as well. I can’t overload the kids’ bags and expect them to walk to school. I pack everything minus a couple of hatches, machetes, and knives for each of us, as well as my largest bow and arrow set for me, feeling awkward in the nearly empty room. While I finish packing, Joey sits outside the bathroom for Imani to ensure she doesn’t pass out again. Once they’re finished, I place the bags in front of the door.
“Okay kids, now for the hard part. I’m going to run you through some quick techniques I hope you never have to use.” Imani grows pale, and Joey stands tall, still shielding his sister with his body. “Let’s start with knives. I hand each kid one knife before placing them in opposite corners of my living room, “okay so hold it in your dominant hand, whichever hand you write with, and have it so the knife is pointing towards the sky when you hold it. Like this.” I show with my knife in my right hand, the blade pointing towards the ceiling. After they both maneuver the knife until it’s comfortable, I show them their first basic cut.
“Holding the knife in hand, bring it down to the opposite waist, dragging the knife across an imaginary body. Next, bring the knife to the opposite shoulder, dragging it down to the dominate side hip. Then you’ll draw the knife across from hip to hip in one direction, then straight back before stabbing forward.” Watching the kids, I see how awkward their movements are. They’re too choppy, too focused on being precise. “It can be really awkward at first if you’re not used to it, so practice each movement a few times, then all together.”
Joey gets it down easily, starting off slowly before flying through the motions, but Imani struggles with some motions. I tell Joey to try the motions out of order. You can’t always do the same things. That’s how your opponent will know exactly what’s coming for them. Turning my full attention to Imani, I notice she seems to get upset at herself because the movements aren’t working the way she wants them to. Her face is scrunched up, and she looks a few seconds away from just throwing the knife across the room.
“Hey, Imani, when in doubt, just stab. However, if that’s what you’re going for, then hold the knife so the blade is facing down; it’s a stronger stab that way,” I explain, showing her how to hold the knife and reminding her she has to be mindful and not to overdo it because she could slip and stab herself.
After knives, I discuss the machete, stating they can use similar techniques, but the proper way to swing it is by tightly gripping the handle with the thumb and forefinger. The remaining three fingers lightly wrap around the base. I also explained how it should wiggle just a little when they are holding it correctly.
“That doesn’t make any sense!” Joey blurts out before I can finish my explanation. “Shouldn’t we make sure it’s being held tightly, so it doesn’t go flying?”
“You don’t want it to wiggle too much, but you want to have enough slack because of the way the weight is in the machete. It gives you the ability to counteract the weight in certain movements, so you don’t hurt yourself in the process. It’s weird, I know, but just trust me.” I explain. Looking between the two, I notice Imani’s eyes are wide, but she just slowly nods her head like everything I’m saying is completely nuts, but she’s going to listen. Joey looks skeptical, though, unsure if he should listen or just take his sister and run.
Then I show them a basic swing straight down and straight across their attacker, reminding them to use their whole body, not just their arms and shoulders, in order to generate the most power. Imani’s skill is oddly amazing, and I’m grateful I could see the spark in her eyes as she looked at them. It gives me hope she can make it to the school alive.
Last, I will show them how to use the hatchet. I explain how to hold it with the dominant hand on the helve and the other hand on the butt. Lifting the axe across the body until the head is just above theirs. Having them face away from me, so if they lost their grip on the hatchet, it would not go flying into my body. I have them practice just bringing it up correctly. Once their movements are smooth, I have them start the hard part. As they bring the axe down, the dominant hand slides down the handle, meeting the other hand in a whiplike action.
“Okay guys, we’re out of time. We have to get moving. It’s getting dark, and I don’t know for sure, but have a feeling those things only grow stronger after the sun goes down,” I explain after they get some practice in with the weapons. The tension in the room becomes so thick as I speak it could cut with a knife. Imani’s eyes keep darting around the room as if she’s expecting something to suddenly appear and attack. While Joey creeps closer to Imani.
“What if we get separated?” Joey asks, his voice strong but his body almost curling around his hatchet. The hard question I honestly didn’t even want to think about hanging in the air between us.
“Do you guys know what street signs are?” I ask, looking between the two. Joey nods, but Imani shakes her head. “The green signs on the corners of streets. On top of the large metal poles.:
“Oh yeah, I’ve seen those before.” Imani says, her eyes brightening at the realization.
“Okay, we’re currently on Center St. The high school is on 600 South. Imani, that is six zero zero and then an S. It will face the same way the road goes, so you’ll see it pretty easily. If we get lost, you guys stay close to each other and move towards 600. The school is big, so once you’re on that street, you’ll see it. If not, walk away from the freeway and you’ll find it, eventually.” I look at them both, my chest tight. “Repeat the street you need to get to.”
“600 South,” Joey says.
“Imani?” I ask, but she just looks confused. “600 South. Remember it, just in case, okay?” I crouch, locking eyes with her.
“600 South.” She repeats it to herself a few times before nodding and continuing to mouth it.
“Okay, let’s get moving. I know it’s hard to be quiet for long periods of time, especially when you’re younger, but you guys need to be as silent as you can be-”
“We know how to be quiet,” Joey cuts me off with harsh words before sliding his backpack onto his shoulders and gesturing towards the door.
Leaving it at that, I nod before slowly opening my front door and stepping onto the balcony. Keeping my body low to the ground, I listen for any movement. Car alarms blare in the distance, demonic howls, and terrified screams shoot through the air, but it all seems pretty far off, so taking the chance, I gesture for the kids to follow me down the stairs.
I pause once we’re on the ground, motioning for the kids to wait. Keeping low, I make my way to the edge of the building, looking around and checking the street that should take us straight to the high school.
The road’s large cracks knocked over cars, and some were smashed into each other on the sidewalk. They should give us enough cover to make it to the next crossroad. I motion for the kids to follow me. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, my muscles stiffen as I slowly scan my surroundings. Something doesn’t sit right with me, but I can’t place my finger on it. I push the thought aside. I don’t have time to just sit here. We don’t have time. I wave for the kids to follow me, reminding them to stay low. I cringe at every step they take, hearing the crunch of the rocks beneath their feet as they make their way to my side. I’m frozen as I stare at the two of them. When they stop in front of me and the area goes silent again, I sigh in relief when no monsters attack us in those first few minutes. I turn to face them, crouching low. Even though I don’t want to, I have to speak to them. Not attracting things as we go is more important.
“Okay, watch me,” I whisper so quietly I don’t know how they even heard me, but they nod so I show them to step by only using the balls of their feet, tip toeing essentially, or by placing their foot flat so the heel can’t make extra noise. They stare at me but slowly nod, their faces still completely confused. Sighing and knowing they didn’t fully understand, I lean in and bring their ears to my mouth. “The heel is the loudest part of your step. We must be quiet. We do not want to attract unwanted attention.”
When I pull away, the realization is clear in their eyes which fills me with happiness despite my hunter instincts telling me I should leave them and save myself because they are a hazard to my safety. But I can’t bring myself to do it. Maybe it is biology or something finally working? Kick starting a maternal instinct I’ve never wanted.
Come on MJ, you can’t be letting yourself get attached to anyone right now. The world is literally falling apart in front of your eyes. The more you care about other people, the more hurt you’ll get if something happens to them.
The way the children stare up at me, the fear radiating off them, making the air between us feel thick and slimy. An icy chill runs down my spine, making my body twitch as if I have ticked. From what I understand, it’s mostly because of my anxiety. I guess it’s a normal response our bodies do when anxious. Fear can also trigger anxiety disorders, and it’s no surprise my body reacts to fear. This whole thing feels like a nightmare.
My legs feel like jello beneath me as I take a few more steps. The pit in my stomach gets harder with each movement, while every sound drifting on the wind has my head snapping towards it. Deep breath, MJ. You’re okay. We cannot have a panic attack when demon dogs are roaming the streets. Let’s check our five senses. We can do that while we walk.
First, what are five things you can see?
Breathing in, I glance around the abandoned road. I can see a purple minivan half on the curb, half on the road.
