Heat Sick (9) : The temperature is unbearable. Heatwaves have made it impossible to enjoy some of these otherwise perfect days–and they seem to be having as much of an effect on the City as they are on the people. Strange tears are appearing throughout the city, as though something has clawed right through reality. Sometimes you can’t see them, but you can feel them–and the sweet relief of a cold gust of air billowing through the crack. The rifts mostly appear transparent but if you peek in at just the right angle you might see a terrifyingly dark realm. Sometimes items vanish near these weird tears, and sometimes people do as well. Items might be found thrown across the room or across town, or not at all. Thankfully, nobody seems to disappear for long; they always wake up unconscious somewhere else. Sometimes, they don’t remember anything except for a cold breeze. Sometimes they say they were stuck in a strange, dark realm where they heard monstrous wails and saw strange little imp-like creatures scurrying around them. Thankfully, they are ejected before harm can come to them, but the realm is frigid and frightening. Doctors are saying it’s heat exhaustion and that delusions and wandering are common, so they advise staying indoors and staying hydrated.
Nataniel had never been a fan of summer.
It was hot. It was noisy. There were sweaty people in swarms everywhere - and he couldn’t figure out why, since this had to be the least temperate portion of the whole year. That alone should’ve been enough to keep everyone inside and away from him, except it wasn’t.
Even in the predawn darkness, a time that he typically considered for himself, there was a small sampling of individuals enjoying the cooler reprieve of the outdoors before the sun broke the horizon. Which would be fine if he was out gathering energy and needed targets. As it was, he wasn’t. A man getting into his car over there, a woman distantly jogging the back end of the track that circled the park, and to Nataniel’s deepest and most sincere displeasure: an older gentleman sidling up next to him with a water bottle.
At ********. And when Nataniel was feeling particularly crotchety from sleeping in his office for the past week.
It was his own fault, his own choosing. He shouldn’t be offended, but he was, and he harbored a certain extra distaste for anyone that had the misfortune of lingering too close to him.
The stranger was smiling as he offered the bottle, bedazzled in a sequined koozie with a red charm dangling from it. The corners of his eyes crinkled and the wispy remains of salt-and-pepper hair fluttered in the light breeze. “You don’t look nearly prepared enough to be out exercising in these temperatures, son! Where’s your water? Where are your shorts?”
Nataniel declined the bottle with a stiff shake of his head, but his hand was immediately full of it, anyway. “I brought my own. I prefer not to carry it around.” Which wasn’t a lie, but he couldn’t add that if he was in especially dire straits, he would just teleport away and wouldn’t have to fight with getting back to his Ducati. The bike that was the reason he wasn’t wearing shorts, either. He didn’t fancy burned calves. His black track pants were perfectly acceptable at this hour, thank you. “I appreciate your concern, but it is unnecessary. I have been out in the mornings long enough now to know what I am doing.”
He hoped it sounded like a dismissal as Nataniel headed out of the parking lot and up toward the cement jogging track.
But it apparently didn’t. The man kept pace with him.
“An experienced jogger, such as yourself, should know how dangerous our city is. Especially at night. It’s best to have some company, I think.”
‘Company’ had never done a great job of warding off the particular dangers that lurked in Destiny City. The scarier monsters probably preferred groups. More energy, more starseeds, less time spent hunting. Nataniel couldn’t say that, either. He had to say something, though. His exercise mornings were the only times of peace he had a drop of normalcy while everything else seemed turbulent, and he couldn’t stand letting it be squandered by some too-personable weirdo. “I am not the best company to keep.” He emphasized this by being very deliberate as he popped his airpods out of their case and fitted them in his ears. No one should be out trying to meet people at three AM. They weren’t friends, they had no reason to need to stay together.
“Ah, that’s alright.” Nataniel heard the response as he desperately flipped through his music. “I’ll stick with you, just in case.”
He would’ve groaned in frustration, but he kept himself together. Because this was fine, really. Nataniel wasn’t much of a sprinter, but he was far from slow and he had the stamina to go on for a while. He could pull away from this stranger once they’d set off.
And that was his intention. Despite being determined not to change his routine course or pace, Nataniel found that it hardly took more than a few minutes for him to be itching to run a bit faster, to escape the proximity of this man. He’d thought someone of more advanced age would struggle to match him- a trained officer. But it wasn’t working out like that. It wasn’t what Nataniel had hoped or expected. And honestly if he were a touch more proud, his ego might have been bruised. The guy was keeping up quite easily, and between the louder instrumentals of his music, Nataniel could hear that he was still speaking. About what, Nat couldn’t say, but that had to be an additional strain on his oxygen levels- to be talking and running.
At this point he was more shocked than miffed. And with all his focus on the man in the corner of his eye, he almost didn’t even notice the awning rift that had split the darkness in front of them.
The man looped his fingers sharply through Nataniel’s tank top sleeve and neck hole and jerked backward. “There, you see that? Weird phenomenon in this city, I tell ya.”
He wanted to snap, ’Please do not touch,’ but he had to be more attentive to… whatever was happening in front of him. Nataniel felt more than saw anything strange. It was a whisper of cool wind, some flickering reality that looked a bit like something other, as if the light was being bent just so. If he leaned in, adjusted his glasses a bit, and tried to peer inside…
“Stop that,” the man snapped at him, giving another firm yank on Nataniel’s shirt, as if he was pulling a toddler away from the toy section of a grocery store. “Don’t get so close; we don’t know what it is.” And when he glanced back over his shoulder, expression terse because this man was being unreasonably familiar with him and Nataniel needed to comment on how unacceptable this was- he stopped. The man was holding a tablet. A Negaverse tablet. Angling it toward the strange rift to snap a photo.
Nataniel went entirely still, giving a slow, stupid blink back at the stranger. “...You are an agent.” And being quite bold about displaying it. So either he wasn’t planning on letting Nataniel walk away, or, what seemed more likely: he knew that Nat was as well.
But the answering, “Mhm,” did nothing to confirm nor deny his suspicions.
“You might have said,” Nataniel muttered stiffly.
“You should’ve inferred.”
So, yes. The second option. It still begged the question of why they were meeting here, like this, instead of more formally, with their identities still intact. Nataniel’s expression soured. “Do I know you?”
“No.” A shutter click as he took another picture, and then he flicked the tablet back into a pen in a practiced motion. “But I know you. Rather, I know you’re looking for something. Someone. And I think I can help with that. I just had to make sure you were someone I’d be willing to invest some time and effort into.” The man swept an appraising gaze up and then down Nataniel’s figure. “And I must admit, I’m not sold for the long haul. But we can see how it goes, Nataniel.”
An uneasy prickle slid down his spine. This man knew his name and had known where to find him. And Nataniel still had nothing besides a face and a, ’maybe I can help you out.’ “I admit that I am not sold, either,” he muttered hotly.
A flippant shrug. “In time. You can call me Rob. Here.” From his pocket, he produced a folded slip of paper. “My contact. For whenever you’re ready, hm? I think we can help each other out, given the proper incentives.” He paused as he glanced back toward the rift and then out to the still-dark sky. “But not this morning, I suppose. I should let you continue as you were. Just so we’re clear: I hate to wait.” Just like that, with a flippant wave, the man, Rob, set off back the way they’d come, leaving Nataniel standing in the cool breeze of a strange rift, with an uncomfortable feeling churning in his gut.
[WC: 1350]
