Failing Upward Ch 18

Author note: Only two more chapters to go!

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"That was quick," Shackleton snapped, turning to Deal. "I expected you to take your time."

"Yes, he is very attractive," Deal said as he stepped behind Shackleton. "But he was already spent. Wes, remember not to wear him out in the future. I prefer Sid fresh."

"I'm not that particular," Shackleton said, reaching out and brushing his fingertips against my cheek. I shrunk back, slapping his hand away. "He looks delicious after a good fucking-- all ruffled and flushed, don't you think?"

The metal table vibrated in back of me. Was that really me doing that? I closed my eyes. If only I could better control what I could do. I cursed my weakness. If I had all this power, why was I so fucking helpless?

Deal stood beside Shackleton. Deal smiled as his eyes rested on the syringe in Shackleton's hand.

"Yes, he does look good," Deal answered, looking from me to Shackleton. "I'll have plenty of time with Sid later, after he's rested."

"You know, I could assist you with him..."

Shackleton smirked, "I rather have him to myself."

"I promise to keep quiet if you let me watch..." Deal reached for the syringe, and Shackleton handed to Deal. I wiped the sweat off my upper lip then took a halting step backward.

"You're not going to make sarcastic remarks about my bedside manner, are you Deal?"

This wasn't going as I expected-- where Deal comes in and rescues me, like in some Bruce Willis movie.

I stepped back again.

"I think you'll need to hold him, Shack."

"My pleasure Pete."

Shackleton's cold hands snatched my forearm as I lunged away, jarring the metal table. He yanked me around. I was cornered like a mouse-- that's the way I felt-- tiny and vulnerable. They stood large, shoulder to shoulder. Shackleton's eyes lit up with perverse glee, and I held my breath waiting for Deal to stick me with serum. Deal dramatically held the syringe up, inspecting it closely. As he looked through the clear liquid into my eyes, he winked.

Shit. I blinked. Had I seen that right? He winked again. At me! With one swift jab, Deal plunged the needle into Shackleton's arm.

"You fuck!" Shackleton yelped in shock. "What did you do?!" Shackleton collapsed to the floor, swearing.

I stood stunned. Maybe this was a Bruce Willis movie-- Yeah, Die Hard would be good... I smirked like Shackleton had done to me. Yeah, Shack, take that...

"There you go you horny bastard," Deal laughed, punching me in the arm like some teenage boy who's smacking his buddy after telling some inside joke.

"I had you going, didn't I?" he said to me.

"Fooled me. I thought I was fucked. Literally?"

"Now would I let that happen to you? Oh, wait! I did! I watched! What was that you were screaming to Sid? Oh yeah, 'Fuck me with your monster'? Was that it?"

Shackleton swore at us again from the floor as he struggled to get to his feet.

"Will you shut up. We need to get out of here. Can't they see what's happening?" I asked, pointing at the camera.

"No, Shack wanted some 'privacy' and turned off the cameras."

Deal took his foot and pushed Shackleton back down on the floor. His eyes bled into Deal's, and he choked and sputtered on the cold tile. I reframed from kicking him. It was tempting. Very tempting.

"Why's he acting like that? The serum doesn't do that to me..." I asked.

"That serum was meant for you-- not some ordinary immortal like him. I imagine it's fucking with him something awful..." Deal knelt down. "Poor Shack, just pull that hard dick of yours out and wack off. That's what you usually have to do anyway lately..." Deal stood up, and he pulled me out the door, Shackleton rolled over, trying to get to his feet again.

"Come back here," his groaned. "Deal, you pig. You can't have him-- he's mine."

"Not today, I'm not," I answered. "But if you wait awhile, Frank will help you out. He might even blow you if you ask nice."

We left, muffled curses came from behind the door. I turned my head. At the end of the hall stood Sid.

Sid bounced on his heels, smiling. I ran down the hall, beating Deal.

We stood by a large white door.

"How do we get out of here?" I asked, turning to Deal. "Where's the fucking handle?"

Deal placed his hand on a clean panel parallel to the door.

"It's a biometric hand-reader-- security assurance. The hand key is coded for only a few of us." He placed his palm flat on the reader, and the door clicked open. We cautiously pushed the stairwell door wide enough to check the stairwell.

"Come on, we're heading up to the roof."

"Roof?" I wondered aloud.

The vibration-- it was stronger.

"Chopper's up there..." he said, taking the stairs two at a time. I had to laugh at myself. Shit, Shackleton had me believing I was the one vibrating the building... Then I heard Sid huffing behind me.

"Shit, I h-hate helicopters..." he stuttered. "They're so... unsafe."

I stifled another laugh.

Yelling came from the stairs below. My legs burned as we reached the top step. Deal ran to the door, putting his left hand on the hand key for the roof door. It didn't open.

"It's still locked. They must know," Sid said.

"No... just the wrong hand... " Deal placed his right hand on the reader, and the door clicked.

The wind from the chopper hit us. I swore under my breath. Why didn't I get a haircut? My forehead felt like bees were stinging me, my t-shirt slapped my body. We started for the chopper. With less than twelve feet to go, Sid froze in his tracks, staring.

I yelled into his ear, "After all we've been through, you're afraid of a little helicopter ride? Fuck it Sidney-- come on!" I grabbed his shirt, and thrust him toward the chopper. Deal had already leapt inside. He was pointing behind us. I turned my head. We ran. Whatever Deal shouted to us was whipped away in the chopper's blades, but above the whirling I heard a pop and then three more. Gun fire.

The chopper was lifting.

On the pad, the chopper hovered above our heads. It dipped lower, tipping back and forth like a duck in pond. I pushed Sid up and in while Deal pulled. I felt a burn in my legs, my side was on fire. I knew I'd been shot. The chopper hovered, then lifted. I jumped up. My fingertips grazed the lip of the door. Too high. They were almost to me. The chopper tipped toward me. And I made another try and missed. I could see inside, Deal motioned to the pilot to go down; Sid yelled for me to jump. I tried again. This time I caught the doorframe. Sid grabbed my wrist, and with one swift yank, he pulled me inside.

I fell on the floor like an old rag.

They were shooting blind at the chopper as it lifted, sounding like popcorn. I waited-- where was the bad guy? But no one clung to the rungs of the chopper like in Schwarzenegger movies. No one dropped and splattered to the ground either. Very disappointing.

"I thought for a minute you weren't going to wait for me..." The sun glared through, and I closed my eyes.

"We'd never leave you."

I knew that voice.

My eyes popped open. It was the pilot. She turned and smiled. Angela. The sun's setting rays filtered around her head in a shimmering aura.

"Are you an angel sent from heaven?" I asked.

"No angel. But my lab coat is white--" she said. "I suppose I do have wings. And I am good."

I listened and watched Sid. His back rested against the frame by the door, his legs hugging his chest.

"What does that make me?" Deal asked.

"You try to be good," she answered, "but you never quite live up to it. It's always been that way with you. I guess that's why I love you-- good girls are always attracted to bad boys."

"What? I'm good," he said, kissing her cheek.

"You enjoyed rubbing up against Sid far too much to be good, hon. You're talking to me, remember? You're no Mr. Nice Guy."

After the performance in the lab, I wasn't sure why Deal had helped. Frankly, I didn't give a shit-- there was no other available opportunity at the time, but now I had to wonder... why?

Sid turned to look at Deal. I sat up, scooted over and leaned against Sid's leg. He rested his hand on my knee.

"Where are we going?" Sid asked, looking out over my shoulder in space, eyes unfocused.

"To the lake. Lots of sand there. I can watch you two get it on, maybe catch a quicky with Angela. Nothing like love in the sand--you know to spice up our love life. Then you two can go POOF into what ever dimension you belong, and we can get our Sid and Wes back."

"Poof? You make it sound so easy," I said. Sid's thumb traced absently back and forth as he stared ahead.

"Listen, we need our Sid back," she explained. Sid's attention rested on her. "He knows the meaning of the message. Your Sid probably does too, but we haven't got enough time for him to have a eureka moment."

"You talk about me like I'm not here--your Sid, his Sid, this Sid, that Sid. And what is this message? What do you mean?"

"The Code. Your counter-part knows what the code really meant. 'To see the universe in a grain of sand...' that binary code. There's clues in the poem to your power. Your parents knew. They left the message for you to find..."

Sid looked off again.

"And Sid has the answer?" I asked. "All that time, I thought that poem was just some metaphoric mumbo-jumbo..."

"There's something hidden," Deal said. "It is metaphoric, but not mumbo-jumbo. He knew what it was. He spent months searching, learning. Old Lancaster gave him the idea. When he figured it out-- he was afraid to tell anyone."

"Even me?" I asked.

"You? You are a different Wes. Our Wes is not the same. You already know that. He and Sid are both close. Sid cares for-- loves-- Wes. But as for Wes-- I think Wes loves Sid-- he just hadn't come to the same point you two have. Maybe they've realized this where ever they are now."

"Maybe..." I said.

"But here, before, Wes had not. He often confided in Sid-- about his immortality and the changes that had taken place. Sid felt helpless for so long. He was afraid of how Wes was changing. Then Shackleton showed up. That's when Sid began to look for the answer."

"Sid told me he knew-- before they left. He told me Wes had changed," Angela confided. "He told me everything except the message..."

"He was going to tell me," Deal interrupted.

"Yes, but he didn't trust you Peter," she added.

"Well, he's just as smart as me there," Sid said, then looking to Deal then to me. "Yeah, funny isn't it? All the time you thought it was nothing. I wonder..." I could see the rich violet sunset refracting off Lake Michigan. His eyes caught the view I was taking in.

"Why is what I want to know. Why is it important to find out the truth?" I asked.

"To stop him," she answered.

"Is that all?" I asked Deal.

"I'm curious. True. I want to know. If there is some way that I could feel again... Hell, I want that."

Sid nodded. My stomach knotted. So much I didn't understand...

"I'm going to land and let you both off."

"What? We're not going to watch the show?" Deal asked.

Angela stuck her tongue out at Peter. "You wish."

"I always wish."

We hovered above the ground. Sid dangled his legs over the side.

"No offense but I hope we never see the two of you again--" she said.

Sid jumped out.

"Thank you for helping us. And I hope we never meet again too," I replied, and followed him.

The free blowing sand burned every inch of our skin as they flew off. It went through my t-shirt, down my jeans, clung between my fingers, scraped in my scalp. I itched-- with a nightmare chill I recalled being buried alive. I reached for Sid to feel something real.

Lights from houses down the shoreline moved us farther down the beach, searching for privacy. The shore line looked familiar. We took off our shoes and ran, dodging in and out at the icy cold edge of the water, splashing each like children as went ran. We spied a secluded spot between dunes and investigated the possibility, avoiding a huge dune thistle-- Sid, in one of his know-it-all-Sid moments, gave me an ecology lesson.

"Most unusual. It's called the Pitcher's thistle. An endangered species. Hard to believe a thistle so menacing could be on the endangered species list? Yet this isn't like thistles you see in lawns and such-- it's not a weed. It has an importance in the evolution and adaptation of the dune cycle. You know, it takes the thistle five to eight years to flower? It's roots go over six feet deep. The stalk on the flower shoots over three feet high-- judging from the size of this, it might flower. But after it does, its seeds dry up and ripen, and fly away. And that's the plant's mission in life. It dies, then--"

"Looks like a good place," I interrupted. Sid nodded and smiled. An inlet. Quiet, serene. I knew this place. It was not far from our cottage. We sat between clumps of marram grass while the silvery leaves of poplars spun in the breeze off the lake. I thought about the thistles seeds floating away and starting a new life, and how sad it was that the mother plant would pass on. Life. There and gone. Was it fair to be immortal? The sun was gone-- just the ripe plumb horizon beckoned deep within his eyes. I sighed and leaned into his kiss, so promising and sweet. His hand tucked me safely into the crook of his neck.

"I'll follow," he whispered.

"No, we'll go together."

We fell back in the sand. It was already cooled. He melted on top of me like water seeps down into the sand on the shore. Our clothes washed away by lapping hands. T-shirt, jeans, discarded one by one. He called my name like a promise. We held each other's hands tight, closing our eyes to images of home. That was the last I remembered until I opened my eyes to mist on the boundless lake of early morning.

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We found ourselves in the same place. I was naked and my backside was cold. The only warmth came from Sid cuddled around me like a mother cat. His eyelids danced open.

"It's still you," he mumbled, flashing me those sparkling eyes framed with those familiar smile lines. I hadn't seen nearly enough of that recently.

"Yeah, it's me. But it looks like nothing's changed."

He buried his head into the back of my neck, then stretched-- I felt the rush of his spine popping. He lolled on his back. He closed his eyes and yawned, then reached his hand into mine and gave it a protective squeeze.

"Um, Wes," he said with a lazy grin, "where are our clothes?"

I sat up, looking around. I didn't see them. Fuck. This wasn't good.

My skin prickled from the cold wind coming off Lake Michigan, and I chaffed my arms to get them warm.

"Tossing them off like that probably wasn't a good idea," he recollected.

"At the time, it was musical." I started to stand. "Although, you know technically they weren't our clothes. Who knows what they did with them-- maybe shrugged them off running down the beach. They could be half way to Wisconsin by now."

Sid head turned to the large clump of blueberry bushes. I looked too. A slight willow tree up on the dune moved.

"Did you see that?" he whispered.

I nodded.

"I hear something too." He stepped forward, and I grabbed his arm.

The wind whistling across the sand was all I heard.

"What?" I asked.

"Giggling. I heard giggling."

I turned my head up the dune again.

"I hear it too... it sounds like..." I straightened up. "It does sound like someone laughing." I saw my ratty t-shirt waving from behind the willow tree like some rescue flag.

Giggles. More giggles.

I smiled.

"Give us back our clothes right now Lynn!" I hollered. "It's not funny!"

"Come and get them!" She jumped out. Green and white polka dot bikini top with faded and frayed cut offs danced and waved my jeans above her head, then with a wicked look hitched them between her legs and ground into them like some exotic dancer.

"Hey, those are mine!" I squeaked.

My scrawny self started up the dune. Sid laughed as I darted my lily white ass after her, cussing her out under my breath. Man the dune was steep. She pranced along the crest, molesting our clothes while sand flew behind her. Now Sid's shirt was getting attention-- she made a production as she rubbed Sid's shirt on her breasts and moaned, "Give it to me stud."

I heard hysterics from the other side of the dune. Fuck. Alan and Les were watching Lynn Live.

I was at the top of the dune-- sure as shit Les and Alan were rolling with laughter on the other side.

"Look at that manly, boy belly with peach fuzz," Alan shrieked.

"What are you laughing about peasants?!" I spread my arms wide. "Gaze on my Adonis like beauty." I turned to Lynn, who was now within an arm's length of me. "Listen," I said to her under my breath, "you're making me look bad in front of my boyfriend."

"Good!" She chirped, scattering our clothes and laughing at me as she ducked over the dune to the guys on the other side.

The laughter faded on as they ran off.

"Better get back to the cabin you two!" Les hollered over his shoulder.

I picked up our clothes, bare-ass sticking out in the breeze, then tried my best to run back down the dune and look self-important. Well, as self-important as a skinny white boy can look running naked down a dune-- not an easy feat to achieve when you trip simultaneously on your dangling belt and a large chunk of driftwood. I landed face first with my mouth open.

Maybe if I just laid there Sid wouldn't notice the love of his life was a klutz. Sure, I thought, he wouldn't, and my mouth's not full of sand either. The sand squeaked near my head, and I saw Sid's toes peeking near. The cool cast of his shadow fell on my back while I weakly tried to think of something profound to say to him. I turned my head and opened my mouth, but wet sand plopped out. "Gawd," I mumbled pressing my head into my forearm, now that's sophistication. He took his belt from my hand and slapped me a good one on my ass. I yelped.

"Sorry," he laughed, "I guess seeing those nice round globes wagging in the air like that was just too hard to resist. Must be men with Adonis-esque physique have that effect on me."

I laughed at myself as he helped me up. We pulled on our clothes then followed our friends footprints in the sand to the cottage.

I didn't need to hear or see any more. Alan's chuckles. The Lynn's antics. We were home. A mixture of fear and relief trickled through me. With sadness, I looked over to where the Pitcher's thistle was last night, and it was no longer there. Neither was my sister.

We walked the line of dunes back. I saw the cottage. As we neared the back door, Alan came out on the breezeway.

"I was amazed at how fast you could sprint," he laughed at me. "But don't blame Lynn too much. We told her to go out there and get your attention. Figured you had enough alone time."

He leaned against the doorframe. "You remember we're heading home this morning, right?"

"Yeah, sure..." I said.

Alan shook his head and pulled at a thread at the bottom of his washed out orange tank top.

"You two have been stranger than usual lately. Hope you're over it."

"Yeah, we're over it," Sid said, kicking sand at me.

I blushed and began perving over how good that belt felt on my bare ass.

"We were just so glad you both made up last night-- we didn't want to disturb you," Alan smirked.

I caught Sid winking at Alan over my shoulder.

"We thought you'd be safe since Shackleton is still missing. But still, we were getting worried. You never know. I think Les went out to check more than a few times last night."

What is it with the winking? I was beginning to think everyone I encountered had Tourette's.

"We gotta get going," Alan said, opening the screen door. "Everyone else is packed."

Lynn greeted me by throwing one of my crusty old shirts in my face.