11 – Distance Provides an Illusion of Safety

Erika stood in a narrow alley between a pair of large garbage bins, watching the minute hand of her watch fly over the numbers. A pair of fire escapes, mounted on opposing brick buildings, now sported GoPro cameras strapped to their lowest rungs, aimed down either end of the alley. With no doors close to Erika, anyone who entered the alley and got anywhere near her current position wouldn’t be both obvious and caught on one of the cameras.

With a slight mental tug, Erika bent time around her watch, triggering the release. A faint thrum spread outward, about half as noisy as the farmhouse incident. The hands of her watch slowed to a stop, held their position for several seconds, then slowly started ticking backwards, charging its capacity to hold ripples once again.

Ripple dump complete, Erika pulled up her collar, shoved her hands in the pockets of her long coat, and headed out onto the main street. She paused, glancing up at The Eclipse’s headquarters. If things went sideways, at least the cavalry was close… pissed as they might be about a fight breaking out.

Erika crossed the street, flipping off a cab that ran a red light, and shouldered through the front door of a narrow building wedged between a Thai restaurant and a closed-down shoe shop. Taking the elevator past an insurance office, dental practice, and a vacancy, Erika stepped out just in time to hear the crackle of pool balls breaking.

Rack City Billiards spread across the fourth floor in a way that made Erika wonder if some magic was afoot—it felt bigger than the building’s exterior could possibly hold. Pool tables occupied the main area, lit by low-hanging cone lamps casting warm amber light over the space and a bar ran along the back wall with racks of bottles that brought up unpleasant memories for Erika. A faint scent of cigarette smoke lingered despite indoor smoking having been outlawed since before she had been born, making her wrinkle her nose.

About half the tables were occupied by couples who clearly thought a pool hall was a better date spot than an arcade. A woman in heels took aim, looking like she had never held a cue before, while her partner watched her lean forward with his attention focused more on her backside than the game. Two guys at the bar sat close enough that their shoulders touched, sharing a basket of fries. A group of college-aged kids clamored on about their double-date tournament loud enough that Erika knew all of their names by the time she reached the corner booth.

Rick had his laptop open in the corner booth, GoPro feeds on screen with a half-empty pint at his side. Anna, across from him, swirled something dark in a shot glass, glaring out the window, while Leslie occupied the end of the booth, eyes on the pool hall’s entrances with no alcohol in sight.

Sofia was absent tonight. Given that Varn’s had customers, technically, and Daniel couldn’t watch the place on his own, she hung back with him and Delilah.

“Ripples dumped,” Erika announced as she slid into the booth next to Rick.

“No problems?”

“I got here fine, didn’t I?” Erika said as she gave him a look, leaning over to confirm that his GoPros were showing up on his laptop. They were, earning him an even more bewildered look. “The Monk didn’t jump me in the elevator, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Rick pointed a finger at her watch. “I mean like, your magic thing. You said you weren’t sure if you broke enough stuff earlier.”

“Oh.” Erika rubbed her thumb over the clear glass of her watch, watching as the hands still slowly wound backwards. “I didn’t want to make a big giant bomb again, but that felt… noticeable enough?” She shrugged. Not knowing exactly how they tracked her breaking things, Erika couldn’t give a real answer.

“No sign of your date yet,” Anna said, still swirling her shot without actually drinking it.

Erika plucked a fry from the central basket and dragged it through some smokey barbecue-mayo sauce. “She said fifteen minutes two hours ago.” She popped the fry into her mouth. “Then spent a full half hour trying to decide what to wear with her phone tossed aside, and was still rummaging through her closet when I finally hung up. I texted this place to her, so if she shows, she shows, and if she doesn’t… Well, maybe I’ll suggest she organize her closet a bit better.”

Anna put on a thin smile, finally tipped back her shot, and let out a hot breath. “Not even denying it’s a date?” she asked with her smile turning into a taunt.

Erika let out a long, withering sigh. “Don’t even ask. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Then… do you want it to be a date?”

Resisting her first instinct to shake her head, Erika paused to consider. It had been a long time since she went on a date, let alone dated someone. Knowing she was different than other people, even before she knew why, put up some barriers that even she found difficult to break down. Even if it wasn’t their closest-guarded family secret, she didn’t feel like magic powers were something to blab about, at least not before trusting someone.

One gigantic secret like that made trust all the more difficult.

Erika’s thoughts shifted tracks as realization hit her. Daniel, Bethany, The Hunters, the rest of the supernatural community out there… she could tell them her secrets without feeling weird about it. Most of the people she knew already knew about her, making the point moot to begin with. A whole world of potential romantic interests could be out there if she just looked.

But with new potentials came new problems.

“You know how in movies and books and… games, I guess… there are always the main couple who end up getting together, and then bone in some moment of quiet just before the climax?”

Her phrasing earned an immature snort from Rick, then immediately a near identical snort from Anna.

“You two are children.” Erika rolled her eyes, about to quip that Leslie was the only adult at the table, only to catch him smoothing his hand over his beard like he was trying to hide his smile. “Anyway, yeah, that?” she said, deciding to carry on with no further comment. “I can’t even imagine it. Like, I’m being hunted down by some weirdo immortals and cultists, The Prescient is throwing the pressure of apocalypses on my shoulders, I’ve got to balance relationships between factions who hate each other, my mother is my father—and vice-versa, which is a whole can of worms—and even after dropping completely out of school, I still feel so busy, like how do these people find time or the emotions for romance in the midst of things like this?”

“They aren’t people, Erika,” Anna said with a surprisingly wide grin. “They’re characters.”

“I know—”

“Besides,” Rick said, “those kinds of scenes always feel out of place. Like it is obviously the director’s barely disguised fetish on display.”

“Or the producers thinking sex sells.”

“Both,” Rick agreed with a firm nod of his head.

“I get that,” Erika huffed. “The point is, with all this shit going on, I can’t even imagine what might make me horny enough to want to fuck right before going and bashing in some giant bird god’s head.”

The elevator dinged, opening for a woman dressed in a sleek black dress that left almost the perfect amount to the imagination. A leather harness cinched over the dress, tracing lines over her chest and around her ribs for no other reason than making people stare. Black lipstick parted into a thin smile as her black heels clicked against the floor.

The Stalker did not look around. She didn’t scan the room for familiar faces or search for her group. Her eyes locked onto Erika’s before she even left the elevator, shimmering faintly with her power.

“Not even that?” Anna whispered, earning a flat look from Erika that didn’t last long before she turned back to the approaching Stalker.

She wasn’t the only one who watched. A full half of the patrons stopped what they were doing to follow The Stalker’s gait through the room.

“You think she planned that timing?” Rick whispered back, tone far more suspicious than Anna’s.

The Stalker strutted up to the table, stared at Erika, and shifted, mouth twitching like she wasn’t sure if she should say something or wait to be spoken to.

Erika took the option from her. “You’re late.”

The Stalker’s eyes flashed victoriously. “I’m fashionable,” she proclaimed. She held a haughty pose for a few seconds before she slowly withered, sinking into the booth alongside Erika. “Ugh that’s so cringe.”

“Why’d you say it then?” Anna asked, not hiding her mocking grin.

“Simone told me to. She knew someone was going to complain…” The Stalker dragged her fingers through her surprisingly lush hair. “Anyway, I brought the whips and chains.”

Rick coughed, spraying a mouthful of his drink across his laptop’s screen. Anna flinched, wincing back even as she dragged a napkin off the table to dab at her face. “I’m sorry,” he wheezed out. “What?”

The Stalker sneered, swinging a small duffel bag that Erika hadn’t even noticed onto the table, rattling the glasses. She unzipped it, revealing a vast array of handcuffs, thick iron manacles, some blank metal mask with grills over the mouth, and more besides. “So… who are we killing again? I wasn’t paying attention over the phone.”

“Of course you weren’t,” Erika sighed.

“We’re just on watch for now.” Rick jiggled his finger on the laptop trackpad, making the taskbar pop up. “If nobody shows up before we get kicked out, this plan probably won’t work to draw them out… they clearly won’t be checking every single instance of ripples.”

“Or they figured out how to tell the difference between the watch-ripples and active breaking,” Anna said. “Frankly, I’d have expected someone to show up by now if they were really interested in catching you.”

Erika dragged another fry through the sauce, scowling at the thought of her plan falling apart on the first step. “We can always try another night. I’ll just break more crap until dumping the ripples makes the same explosion as what happened at the farmhouse.”

“Might not be enough.” Leslie shook his head. “Consider what The Warrior told us: those chain substitutes might take time to make. They won’t come for you until they’re ready.”

“Well… shit,” Erika huffed, sitting back in the booth.

“Don’t start losing hope just yet,” Rick said. “If I were in charge of our unfriendly cult, I’d send out someone to check every instance anyway. They just might not be in a big hurry over it.”

Despite his reassurances, the rest of the table didn’t look so convinced—except The Stalker, who stared around with a puzzled look on her face. “I still don’t know what we’re doing here.”

“Just keeping watch for anyone who walks down that alley,” Erika said, pointing out the window. “Ideally, you get a good glimpse of them so we can track them later, but even knowing they show up at all is good.”

“Sounds like boring-ass shit.”

“That’s why we’re here instead of huddled in Rick’s van,” Erika said, spreading her arms over the table. “Do you eat?”

“I can. I don’t get much out of it.” To demonstrate, she grabbed Rick’s pint, ignored his protest, and downed the remaining half. She let out a long, refreshed sigh afterwards. “Like, I’ll get a bit buzzed, but I won’t get drunk no matter how much I drink. My body is dead; it doesn’t get much use out of food.”

“How does that work?” Anna asked, leaning in with interest. “The undead part. Are you a ghost possessing your own body? Do you remember much about—”

“Hell if I know,” The Stalker snapped, tone irritated. She ground her teeth, making Anna back away. “No Specter-class being I’ve talked to knows why we exist. Guess some people just aren’t good at dying when they’re killed,” she growled.

“Sorry,” Anna muttered.

The Stalker breathed in, held it, and breathed out—and didn’t breathe in again. Erika watched, tense at the sudden outburst, but her apprehension turned to wonder over whether The Stalker’s breaths were real or just performance. She almost asked, but not after The Stalker had just bitten Anna’s head off for something similar.

Confirming that there was no interesting activity on the streets below or on Rick’s laptop screens, Erika stood, shooing The Stalker out of the booth so that she could get out.

“You know how to play pool?” Erika asked, deciding that even if The Mummy didn’t show, the evening wouldn’t be a waste if she figured out what was up with The Stalker—and in the hopes that a game would be a good distraction from Anna’s faux pas.

The Stalker sent a wary glance at the pool tables, particularly the group of four playing doubles. “Do you?” she asked.

“Hit balls with stick.” Erika shrugged, figuring it didn’t matter if neither of them knew.

Rick let out a loud snort at her phrasing.

After flipping Rick off, Erika tossed her coat over the back of the booth seats. “Whistle if anything happens,” she said before dragging The Stalker off to one of the unoccupied tables.

“The first shot is called the break,” Anna called out, making Erika pause.

The pool balls were already set up in a triangular shape with the white ball on the opposite side of the table. Erika watched one of the neighboring tables for a moment, observing how the others held the cue and lined up their shots, then turned back to her table with a small frown.

Anna called that out for a reason. Erika had fully planned on mucking about while chatting with The Stalker, but now she was curious to see how she could take advantage of that terminology. She didn’t want to break the balls themselves, or the stick—both sounded like great ways to get kicked out—but she had to try after hearing that.

“Are… you going to do anything?” The Stalker asked, taking a pair of cues from the rack and handing one over to Erika.

Erika held up a finger, but accepted the cue. “I’m thinking…”

“Well, whatever. You aren’t feeling awkward, are you? I mean, about me being here and dressed like this and…”

“Not really,” Erika answered as she leaned over the table, lining up a shot. Still not having decided how to go about this, she pulled back after testing the pose. Would it work to break the triangle? That probably wouldn’t damage the balls or the stick… “A little surprised though. You and The Hanged Man have a falling out?”

“Haven’t seen him since before… that night,” The Stalker answered, her tone a perfect neutral as she rested against the pool table.

Erika couldn’t help but note that her answer wasn’t a yes or no. Pausing her mental calculations over how to break the pool balls, Erika looked over The Stalker, watching as the woman fidgeted and shifted, constantly staring around the room before her gaze inevitably returned to Erika.

In truth, Erika did feel awkward. More so now, after Anna’s little speech over whether this was or wasn’t a date. Or… rather, it wasn’t that she wasn’t sure, it was that she wasn’t sure how The Stalker was seeing things at the moment.

Dancing around subjects wasn’t Erika’s style, and things tended to go poorly when she tried, so, Erika simply asked, “Are you interested in me? Romantically, I mean?”

The Stalker adopted a scowl, one aimed at herself rather than Erika. “No fucking idea.”

“Well, that doesn’t clear things up.”

“Look, I wasn’t exactly popular when I was alive. After dying, The Puppet took me in, but The Hanged Man gave me tips on how to live… unlive?” She shook her head, rolling her eyes at herself. “Long story short, it ended up with me and him meeting up randomly, usually during a fight, and we’d… Fuck, I’m doing that thing, rambling about an ex.”

“I brought him up,” Erika offered, then asked, “is he an ex?”

“I’ve got no emotional attachment to him anymore.”

Figuring that was the case, Erika nodded. She had a feeling she knew for certain what Carter took from The Stalker in exchange for her almost life-like beauty. Noting someone else at the pool tables rubbing a little cube on the end of the cue, Erika mimicked them, using the action to buy a little time for thought.

Even though The Stalker hadn’t given her a straight answer, Erika could read between the lines. The real question now was what she wanted. The Stalker wasn’t unattractive, she could admit that, especially now that her skin wasn’t drier than a desert. But like she had been telling The Hunters, did she really have time for other people?

Or did she? It wasn’t like Erika spent every waking moment plotting The Mummy’s downfall. If The Stalker was around more often, the times she did plot might go smoother, especially if The Stalker got a bead on her various enemies.

But that all felt like using her.

Erika clicked her tongue in annoyance. “I think I’m overthinking things,” she muttered. “You know what? I don’t need to explain my situation to you, you know it, so you know I’ve got enemies and shit. I’m going to flat out admit right now that I think you’re kind of hot, but I don’t think I’m actually attracted to you—even if I was I don’t have the time to be attracted to anyone.” Watching The Stalker deflate a little, Erika added, “If you still want to try, be my guest. It might be fun. Under one condition.”

Eyes lighting up at Erika’s offer, The Stalker nodded her head. “I’ll do it.”

“I haven’t even said it yet.” Leveling off her cue, Erika took aim at the white pool ball. “Last year, you stalked me and threatened me over a five minute interaction with The Hanged Man.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts. You stalk anyone I know like that, and I’ll break it off.” Erika slammed the cue forward, sending the white ball rocketing into the triangle of pool balls. They clattered together, bouncing off the felt walls and one another, skipping across the green until each of them found one of the side pockets, sinking in one after another. As the last ball went into the corner hole, leaving the table completely clear, Erika turned a victorious grin on The Stalker. “Don’t test me. I’m very good at breaking things.”

“Okay. I’ll stop.”

“What do you mean you’ll—”

Anna, hands cupped over her mouth, called out from the corner booth with a laugh in her tone. “You lose if the white ball goes in!”

Smile thoroughly wiped from her face, Erika rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at the woman. “Congratulations I guess,” she said, nudging The Stalker.

“I didn’t even get to hit a ball,” The Stalker said, though she was smiling at Erika.

“We’ll set it up and play normally. That was just me messing around and making a point—”

A sharp whistle from Rick called their attention back to The Hunters’ booth. He hurriedly waved them over.

“Or not,” Erika amended. “Looks like we’ve got work to do.”