Father

By Julia Skinner

Den sloshed through the streets of the City With No Name. Overhead, a sagging wire sparked as it trembled in the rancid wind. There’d be another fire soon. He should probably call some Smokers out to take care of it. Instead, he turned down an alley.

Where is he?

Dusk coated the outback city, summoning hulking shadows that hid the ash staining the streets and buildings. It drove all the respectable folk behind barred doors. But not Den. Den wasn’t respectable. And apparently, his boy wasn’t either. “Roy’s s’pposed to be better.” Den muttered to himself, kicking putrid water into the air.

He hadn’t asked for his best friend to go full-out evil villain after his wife died. Den hadn’t asked to end up raisin’ his best friend’s five-year-old son, or playing the role of father, or actually having to clean his ratty apartment every day. But here he was. Eleven years later, now a master of hygiene and chasing after a kid who hated him.

This is probably your fault, he thought. What did you expect, raising Roy in this kind of place? But this was one of those dumps where Lord Berilo wouldn’t bother coming to. If Den’s old friend stumbled upon them and found out that Roy had powers just like him… that the boy was actually valuable… Den clenched his jaw and threw a murderous glare at the low-lifes tailing him. They scuttled down a side street with quiet curses.

He slipped out of the alley and made for a small building on the side of the main street, still in view of that blasted sparking wire. They’d have to take the long way back home so they didn’t get stuck in the inevitable fire.

Eyeing the shambled building with no sign or name on it, he clenched his trembling fists. This was where bad people came to get hired to do bad things. But the knot in his gut told him this was where he would find the kid.

Grinding his teeth, he marched up and eased the door open. The inside revealed a familiar small room with a desk at the opposite end. The hulk of a man sitting behind it scowled up at Den’s entrance. Royal clutched a pen as he looked at a sheet of paper.

“Don’t you dare Royal T. Berilo!” Den bellowed. Royal jerked around, his green eyes the only bright thing in the dank room.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” he snapped. “Stop following me around, creep.”

Den stalked across the room. “Boy, don’t you give me that. I was the guy who cleaned your bed sheets every day for two years ‘cause you kept wetting them.” He grabbed the paper. It was a job agreement. With the local gang. The one Den used to run with. He shredded it, glaring at the man behind the desk. How many times had he threatened these people that they’d better not hire his boy?

“Great job, Den,” Royal said. “Do you know how long I argued with these freaks to get them to hire me?”

Den stomped to the door. “Come on.”

“Den, I want to go places! Do things!” Roy’s voice wobbled, like it always did when he knew he was losing a battle.

“You are. You’re going back home.”

“That rat hole apartment isn’t home.”

Den paused in the doorway, his back to the boy. He knew it wasn’t. It was small, and dirty, and loud, and… it was all he could afford. As it was, he could barely even put food on the table for the two of them. He swiped a hand down his face. “Just c’mon.”

“I’m staying here.” Roy’s voice hardened.

“No you ain’t.”

“And,” Roy said, “once I get enough money to pay my fare to Beryl City I’m joining my father to learn how to fully use my powers.”

No. Den slumped against the doorframe. Of course he messed this up. Of course Roy would want to go to… to… “I’m supposed to protect you,” he whispered.

Roy laughed. “Den, I can literally move things with my mind, I don’t need protection!”

I promise, he’d told the boy’s mother, I won’t ever leave him alone.

And Den always kept his promises.

Straightening, he dug his hand into his pocket. “Royal.”

Roy huffed. “Yeah?”

Pulling out his money chip, he turned back to the boy. “There should be enough on this for two tickets to that man’s wretched city.”

“But… I thought…” Roy’s brow furrowed as he looked from the money chip to Den.

“I ain’t gonna let you go alone, boy,” Den said. That’s what fathers didn’t do—let their kids face monsters alone.

A small smile crept across Roy’s face. “Thanks.”

“C’mon,” Den repeated, thumbing over his shoulder to the door.

Stepping out of the shack, he paused for a moment. Down the street, orange flames lapped at the buildings, spitting black smoke into the sky.

“Huh,” he said. That escalated quickly. He turned towards the street that led to the train.

Behind him, Roy sucked in a breath. “A lot of people are going to die, aren’t they?”

Probably, Den thought, silently stepping over a trash heap.

“Den.”

Den sighed and turned back.

Green light wove around Roy’s hands, and his eyes were almost glowing.

“I think I’ve got one more thing to do before leaving this mudhole.”

“And that is?”

Royal grinned and sprinted straight for the fire.

Freaking kid, always so sure of himself. Den stomped back over to the building and leaned against its paint-chipped siding. As Roy neared the inferno, green light burst through the air, drowning the destruction in its glow.

“That’s my boy,” he whispered.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Julia Skinner is a seventeen year old writer, blogger, and ice cream enthusiast. When she’s not working on one of her (many) Sci-Fi Fantasy novels, she can be found playing video games, happy-ranting about one of Brandon Sanderson’s books, or wondering just how many germs are on the door handle. Julia strives to bring glory to her Savior, Jesus Christ, and if any good comes from her journey, it’s because of Him.

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