Last Rites by Eden Hudson

Author:Eden Hudson [Hudson, eden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: wizard sorcerer demons warlock monster hunter god, men's adventure private investigator shapeshifter, paranormal urban supernatural magic legends myth horror dark gritty metaphysical quest disturbing, science fiction cyberpunk thriller, vigilante justice noir hard-boiled secret society, hell pulp hitman organized crime occult detective
Published: 2021-10-04T16:00:00+00:00

Jubal

BECAUSE OF CARINA’S mental lap dance antics in the office, I didn’t have the chance to sneak away and search the Between for the sledgehammer during the interview. Or rather, I had the chance, but I didn’t want to let go of the moment. It was better than holding her in a PCM fit, even if it was killing me just the same.

But all good things that can’t be synthesized must eventually come to an end. When the Boxmaker ran out of questions and remembered her unfinished project on the workbench, she abruptly got to her feet.

“Look at the time,” she said, not looking at anything that would have told her the time. “Well, I have a lot on my bench at the moment, and I’ll need to get back to it. Thank you for stopping by.”

“It was our pleasure!” I gushed, letting the undershorts box flap open again to remind her what was inside, then slapping it closed with a clumsy hand. “We’ll just see ourselves out.”

The Boxmaker shook her head, tricolor ringlets bouncing. “No, you’ll never find your way Between.” With one hand, she motioned for us to follow her, and with the other she dragged the rolling chair back out into the warehouse.

Carina glanced at me. I swept a stupid-looking bow and gestured for her to go first again, a micromotion of one eyebrow telling her to keep the Boxmaker engaged in conversation.

She caught up to the smaller woman. “So, when did you first start making boxes?”

“We’re all making boxes all the time,” the Boxmaker said. “I just make tangible versions. Sort of like memorials. Do you have memorials in this time? I forget what’s First Earth and what’s... Is this still the Building Age?”

Carina smiled, genuine warmth coming through. “It’s already been rebuilt. We’re on Revived time now.”

We rounded a corner, the same one that had taken us to the office, then headed down an aisle of towering shelves crammed with boxes.

I let my steps slow by imperceptible degrees while they talked.

They pulled five feet ahead of me, then ten as they approached the low doorway on the far wall. The Boxmaker was saying something about the era before the Dark Ages as she and Carina disappeared into the lightless void.

I hesitated another immeasurable fraction of a second, then stepped through the doorway.

Blackness surrounded me. Somewhere ahead, Carina asked the Boxmaker how she decided which boxes to display, but I shut the words out, closed my eyes, and focused.

Most people never try to experience their surroundings without seeing or touching them, but if you concentrate, you can sense the solid pressure from walls or the airiness of doorways. The closer they get, the more you can feel them.

I let my senses attune to the space and echoey directionality of the feminine voices. When an unseen wireframe structure started to take shape in my mind, I took a slow step forward, then another, then another.

Wall.

More wall.

Another wall.

Emptiness.

I stopped. I shifted the box of underwear to my left arm, then I reached out with my newly free right.

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