"What the hell?" I muttered under my breath, the words barely escaping my lips as I stepped through the Portal's shimmering veil. The familiar surroundings of my living room warped into view, but not as I left it. My foot caught on something—a kayak, of all things—and I stumbled, sending a cascade of small, brightly coloured vessels crashing to the ground. My heart raced, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I struggled to make sense of the mess.
"Gladys," boomed a deep voice, slicing through my confusion. It was Cody, standing in the kitchen with an usual nonchalance, seemingly unfazed by the pandemonium.
My gaze lifted, sweeping over the disarray. "What the hell happened?" I demanded, my voice harsher than intended. The raw sting of my departure from Jamie still lingered, a fresh wound that left me with little patience for trivialities.
Cody brandished a single sheet of paper like a flag of truce. "It's Gladys's doing," he announced, as if that explained everything. "And she's left you a note. Shelving will be delivered tomorrow." His words trailed off, punctuated by the sharp clink of glass as he raised a bottle to his lips, the amber liquid disappearing in one swift gulp.
"Ah, this is great stuff you've got here, Luke," he commented offhandedly, as if the quality of my whiskey was the most pressing matter at hand. "I had to open a new bottle. Hope you don't mind."
My frustration boiled over, the absurdity of the situation sharpening my anger. "I'm not talking about the camping shit," I snapped, my voice rising in volume, echoing off the walls. I gestured wildly at the kayaks now littering my floor, the symbol of my disrupted sanctuary. "I'm talking about the fucking body!"
Cody's eyes widened, the casual indifference washing away to reveal a flicker of genuine surprise—or was it confusion? "Body?" he echoed, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "What body?"
"Joel," I replied, my voice laced with a chill that could freeze the sun. The name hung in the air, heavy with unspoken accusations and dark memories.
Cody shrugged, a subtle lift of his shoulders, as if the gravity of my words was lost on him. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he said, his tone casual, almost dismissive.
Frustration gnawed at me as I clambered across the living room, navigating a sea of kayaks and camping paraphernalia that now invaded my space. Each step felt like a battle, the clutter a physical manifestation of the chaos unfurling in my life. I pushed into the kitchen, the familiar tiles cold under my feet, seeking solace in the ritual of a drink.
I reached for a fresh glass, my fingers brushing against the cool surface as I slid it across the bench with more force than necessary. Cody, perhaps sensing my growing turmoil, was quick to fill it, the golden liquid flowing with a smoothness that belied the tension between us.
"We found Joel's body," I stated, the words heavy, final. I accepted the drink, the glass cold in my grasp, a stark contrast to the heat bubbling inside me.
Cody's reaction was immediate. A cough burst from him, harsh and uncontrolled, as if the words were a physical blow. Expensive whiskey splattered across the bench, droplets glistening like tiny, misplaced jewels. A small trail of saliva escaped him, a lapse in his composed demeanour.
"Yeah," I said, my voice steady, watching him closely. "That's what I thought."
"I'm so sorry, Luke," Cody murmured, his voice a blend of remorse and confusion. “I had no idea he’d get away.” He shook his head, a gesture that seemed to carry more weight than his words, as if he was trying to dislodge the truth from the tangle of lies.
I fixed my eyes on him, searching for any hint of deceit. "I hardly think he got away by himself." My voice was steady, but inside, a storm of emotions raged—anger, betrayal, disbelief.
"Shit! I didn't think of that!" he exclaimed, his composure slipping further.
"So, you did know!?" I pressed, my voice rising, echoing off the kitchen walls. The air between us was electric, charged with the weight of his impending confession.
"Yeah, I knew who he was, but I thought…" Cody's voice trailed off, his gaze shifting away, unable to meet mine.
"Then why the fuck did you pretend you'd never seen him before!?" My question was a demand, a challenge, pushing him into a corner from which there was no easy escape.
"Huh?" He feigned confusion, a poor attempt to buy himself time, to weave another layer of deception.
"Joel. Why'd you act like you didn't know him?" I was relentless, my patience worn thin by his evasions.
"Ahh, shit!" Cody cursed, his hand moving to rub his forehead, a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. It was an admission of guilt, a silent acknowledgment of the web of lies he'd spun around us.
"What?" I demanded, my voice sharp, cutting through the thick tension in the room. I wasn't sure if it was frustration boiling inside me or the confusion swirling like a storm cloud overhead.
"I'm not talking about Joel." Cody's words were calm.
"Then who the fuck are you talking about!?" My voice escalated, a reflection of the mounting perplexity and irritation.
"Griffin Langley," Cody replied, his back against the side bench, adopting a posture that suggested a casual chat despite the seriousness of our conversation. His muscles tensed visibly, his palms pressing against the cool stone surface.
I extended my glass towards him, an unspoken request for a refill to steady my nerves. "And who the hell is Griffin La…?" I attempted to inquire, but the name slipped away from me, elusive, like trying to grasp a wisp of smoke.
"Langley," Cody supplied, a hint of patience threading through his tone.
"Yeah, him," I acknowledged, grasping onto the name like a lifeline in the whirlpool of confusion. I threw back the whiskey, feeling the liquid burn its path down my throat, a fleeting distraction from the web of deception unravelling before me. Placing the glass on the bench, it landed with a loud clatter, a sound that seemed to echo the turmoil inside me.
"He's a Portal Pirate," Cody declared, his voice carrying a weight that demanded attention.
A wild smirk involuntarily spread across my face. "A Portal Pirate?" I scoffed, the absurdity of the term sparking a flicker of amusement amidst my brewing storm of emotions. The idea seemed plucked from a child's fantasy, yet the gravity in Cody's gaze hinted at a starkly different reality.
"Yes," he affirmed, his expression hardening, the playfulness draining away as if it had never been. "And I believe his partner, Nelson Price, may be in your settlement."
I shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that belied the rapid calculations spinning through my mind. "Nobody's mentioned seeing anyone unfamiliar," I remarked, my hand reaching out almost instinctively for the whiskey bottle. The notion of unknown dangers lurking in our already beleaguered settlement added another layer of complexity to the already tangled web of survival we were woven into. "The people I do know are already struggling to survive. I doubt anybody that I don't know about could survive on their own for long. And besides, I really don't care right now." My words were dismissive, an attempt to deflect the mounting tension with a veneer of indifference.
But Cody wasn't having any of it. In a swift motion, he snatched the bottle from my grasp, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that brooked no argument. "Luke, this is serious. They're incredibly dangerous.”
His stern tone, the urgency in his gesture, it all served to pierce the bubble of denial I'd been encasing myself in.
"I don't understand," I confessed, my voice laced with a growing frustration and a tinge of fear. "How did he get into my settlement without me seeing him?" The idea of such a breach under my watch was unsettling, to say the least.
"He may not have, but if he did, you'd never know it. They're sneaky bastards." Cody's words were stark, unvarnished by any attempt to soften the blow.
My eyes widened, a reflection of the alarm stirring within me, as I gazed out the kitchen window. The glass pane threw back my own image, a man grappling with the dawning realisation of a threat he hadn't even considered. "Are they the ones who attacked Joel?" I found myself asking, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to fall into place, albeit reluctantly.
"I believe so," Cody confirmed, his tone sombre.
The information hung heavily in the air, a cloud of unease that settled over me. "But even so, if you took Joel's body, how did it end up at our settlement?" The question was out before I could reel it back, a testament to the whirlwind of thoughts churning in my mind.
Cody exhaled deeply, his sigh echoing in the tense air of the kitchen. "I captured Griffin and was holding him captive at Belkeep. But somehow, he managed to escape." He paused, the weight of his next words apparent in the brief silence that followed. "He stole the truck with Joel's body."
"Can't you just follow his tracks?" I inquired, my hand outstretched toward the whiskey bottle once more, seeking a sliver of solace in the amber liquid.
"No," Cody responded, his frustration palpable as his fist met the island bench with a resounding thud. "That's the thing with pirates, once they have recorded a location, they can access any other recorded Earth or Clivilius location from it."
My heart sank. "Shit! There are more settlements in Clivilius?" The question escaped my lips before I could corral it, revealing my ignorance and amplifying my growing sense of unease.
"Yeah… uh… I think that's a conversation for another time," Cody deflected, his evasion adding another layer of complexity to the already convoluted situation.
"Shit," I mumbled under my breath, the room seemingly spinning as the weight of our predicament settled over me. The reality of our circumstances, the existence of other settlements, and the threat of these so-called pirates—it all meshed into a daunting mosaic of relentless challenges.
"But wherever Griffin took Joel, it can't be too far from your settlement if you found Joel's body there." Cody's attempt at reassurance did little to quell the storm of thoughts raging in my mind.
"And if his partner is there, how do we find him?" I pressed, the potential danger to my community overshadowing my personal turmoil.
"Not sure. If there are no signs of life around you, which I suspect is the case, then it is likely that he will not know where he is either." Cody's analysis was grim. "A pirate's instincts are for survival. He will happily steal whatever he needs and he won't hesitate to use violence if he thinks the situation calls for it."
The torrent of information from Cody felt like a relentless wave, each word laden with implications that were hard to fully grasp.
"But in all likelihood, he will hang around the Portal for a few weeks, or as long as he can last, in the hope that another pirate will come along and he can finish making the location connection. He will attempt to record the location at every chance he can get – but he needs the Portal to be active to do it. So, expect him to remain close to your Portal. You could attempt to flush him out, but he is dangerous." Cody's voice was steady, but the urgency in his eyes betrayed his concern.
I felt a surge of emotions as his words sunk in, a mixture of fear, responsibility, and an overwhelming sense of isolation.
My hand moved instinctively to my face, swiping at a small tear that had breached my defences, catching it just before it could trace a path down my cheek.
"You okay?" Cody's voice cut through my swirling thoughts, his hand landing firmly on my shoulder, an attempt to ground me back to the moment.
My body shuddered unexpectedly at Cody's touch, a reminder of the comfort I longed for but never received from Jamie.
"Luke?" Cody repeated, his voice laced with worry.
I felt the solidity of the kitchen cupboards against my back, as my legs gave way beneath me. My knees wobbled, betraying my attempt to stand strong, and without any conscious permission from my mind, I found myself descending. I tucked my knees close as I slid down, the cold, hard tiles of the floor meeting my body. Then, as if a dam had burst within me, floods of tears erupted, streaming uncontrollably from my eyes, now swollen with the weight of unshed emotions.
Cody, unfazed by my collapse, crouched down to meet me at eye level, his hands finding their place on my shoulders with a firm, grounding pressure. "Luke, what's going on?" he asked, his voice a mix of firmness and concern.
The scent of his hard work and sweat filled my nostrils, a raw, earthy reminder of the day's toils. I tried to avert my gaze, to escape the intensity of his deep eyes that bore into me with unwavering concern. Yet, they were inescapable, drawing me in with their sincerity, as compelling as a bee is drawn to the nectar of a sweet wildflower.
"Just too much whiskey," I managed to utter between the sobs, a feeble attempt to mask the overwhelming torrent of emotions that Cody's presence and the day's revelations had unleashed.
"Come on. Get up," Cody urged, his hand outstretched towards me, a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of my emotions.
As my fingers clasped around Cody's hand, a surprising jolt coursed through me, a sensation so unexpected and intense that it rivalled the shock of cold water. It was a tingle that started at the point of our contact, spreading like wildfire up my arm and cascading down my spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. In my vulnerable state, the physical connection sparked an alarming clarity: I didn't just want Cody's support; I craved his presence, his touch. It was a need that transcended the platonic, fuelled by the raw exposure of my emotions and the intimate proximity of our interaction.
In a misguided attempt to prolong the contact, to feel something other than the despair that clawed at my insides, I feigned a struggle to stand. With a calculated weakness, I let my body weight pull me back down, tugging on Cody's arm, a deliberate ploy masked as an accident.
The result was more dramatic than intended. Cody's knee hit the tiled floor with a jarring smack, a sound that echoed my internal turmoil. "What the fuck did you do that for?" His confusion and pain were evident, his tongue instinctively seeking out the source of a new, sharp pain—a small but defiant bead of blood emerging from his lower lip.
"Sorry, I slipped. Way too much alcohol," I stammered, my apology tumbling out in a rush of guilt and desperation. The words felt hollow, a feeble cover for an impulsive act driven by a maelstrom of need, confusion, and the overwhelming desire to connect. I hoped my excuse would suffice, masking the turmoil within and the accidental harm inflicted in a moment of reckless longing.
Cody's expression shifted, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected turn of events, as he twisted to sit beside me on the unforgiving floor. He dabbed at his lip, trying to stem the flow of blood, but another drop swiftly replaced the one he wiped away.
The sight of the blood, stark against the tone of his skin, was strangely captivating. It beckoned to me, a vivid splash of red in the otherwise muted world of my current despair.
You want it, Luke, the soft, seductive whisper of Clivilius echoed in my mind, blurring the lines between my own thoughts and the external influence. Take it.
The urge was overpowering, a primal call that I found myself unable to resist. My body moved with a mind of its own, drawing me closer to Cody, our shoulders touching in a semblance of solidarity and shared vulnerability.
Cody's swallow was loud in the quiet of the room, a clear sign of his nervousness or perhaps anticipation. His eyes met mine, and in that gaze, I searched for a reflection of my own turmoil and desire.
Did he hear the same whispering voice? Did he feel the magnetic pull drawing us together? My mind raced with questions as our faces drew closer, the space between us charged with an unspoken tension.
As my lips brushed against his, feeling the roughness of his injured flesh, there was a moment of surreal clarity. It was an intersection of need and desire, confusion and longing.
When Cody's hands pressed against my chest, there was a hesitance in his push, a lack of conviction that spoke volumes. It was as if part of him wanted to resist, to maintain a boundary, yet another part was curious, perhaps even welcoming, of the intimacy and connection we found in our shared low moment.
In that instant, our actions transcended words, speaking a language of need, comfort, and human connection, a language born from the chaos of our circumstances and the inherent human need to feel understood and not alone.
As my tongue ventured forward, exploring the unfamiliar yet enticing terrain of Cody's mouth, I encountered the iron tang of his blood. It was a sensation so primal, so intense, that it sent waves of electricity coursing through my veins, awakening a part of me I hadn't known existed.
Cody's initial tension melted away, his body language shifting from resistance to a tentative acceptance, then to participation. His tongue met mine in a gentle dance of curiosity and shared vulnerability, his touch light yet charged with an unspoken understanding.
As I explored his lip once more, a shiver ran through me, a convulsion that seemed to echo the tumult within. Cody's hands, firm on my shoulders, anchored me in the reality of the moment, offering a sense of security amidst the storm of emotions and sensations.
Then, as if a switch had been flipped, images began to flood my mind, unbidden yet vividly clear. Faces and names cascaded through my consciousness—some familiar, like Jeremiah Atkins from my own Clivilius vision, while others were strangers, their significance to me unknown. A vivid image of a small settlement, nestled amongst rocky cliffs, battered by the relentless sea, surged to the forefront of my mind. It was Belkeep, a name that resonated with a deep, inexplicable familiarity.
The intensity of the vision, the clarity of the name "Belkeep," jolted me back to reality. I whispered the name, a soft exhalation of breath, as I gently pulled away from Cody, distancing myself from the intimacy we had shared. The name hung in the air between us, a bridge to another place, another piece of the puzzle in the intricate tapestry of Clivilius and Earth, binding us together in ways I was only beginning to understand.
"Did you know?" My voice was a mix of curiosity and a newfound depth of connection as I held Cody's gaze, searching for answers in the depths of his eyes.
"Know what?" Cody's response came with a furrow of his brow, deep lines etching across his forehead, signalling his confusion.
In that moment, a flicker of doubt crossed my mind. If Cody was unaware of Joel's miraculous return to life, how could he possibly grasp the mysterious bond that now seemed to link us? The revelation of Belkeep, the visions that flooded my mind—were these experiences unique to me, or were we both part of a larger, unseen tapestry?
"So, I'm your first," I whispered, half statement, half question, a gentle probe into the nature of our connection.
Cody's admission came with a mix of vulnerability and revelation. "Yeah. I've never been this close to a guy before," he confessed, the words tumbling out amidst a palpable shift in his demeanour, a mixture of acknowledgment and unease. His subsequent movement, a subtle yet unmistakable shifting of weight, spoke volumes of his inner conflict. "We should stop."
My response was a grin, not of amusement, but of recognition of the complexity of our situation. "As sweet a sentiment as that is, that's not what I'm talking about." The words left my lips with a gentle firmness, an acknowledgment of the depth and the layers of our interaction that went beyond the physical—a nod to the unseen threads that seemed to weave our destinies together, hinting at a connection that transcended the ordinary, hinting at mysteries yet to be unravelled.
"Then what are you talking about?" Cody's confusion was palpable, his question hanging between us like a tangible entity.
As I gazed into his eyes, a gateway to myriad unspoken words and uncharted territories, the clarity of my visions intensified. Images of the twins, the settlement, and the heart-wrenching narrative of Gladys unfurled in my mind's eye with vivid detail, eclipsing our current reality. The pressing danger of the pirates faded into the background, overshadowed by my overwhelming desire to delve deeper into these revelations.
Compelled by an irresistible urge, I bridged the gap between us once more, pressing my lips against Cody's with an urgency that brooked no hesitation. My tongue sought out the wound on his lip, drawn to the point of broken skin with a mix of curiosity and a deep, inexplicable need. As I took a deep suck, a convulsion rippled through me, a visceral reaction that seemed to tap into something primal, something elemental within my being.
Cody's reaction was immediate, a mix of concern and self-preservation as he pushed me away. "I think you've been under too much pressure lately," he observed, his voice laced with a blend of worry and rationality. "Not to mention the whiskey."
But his words barely registered. "No," I responded, my voice a soft yet firm contradiction to his assumption. "I see you now. Just as Clive sees us all." It was a revelation, a moment of profound connection and understanding, as if the veils had been lifted and I could perceive the intricate web of life and destiny that bound us.
As the intensity of the moment waned, my body yielded to the exhaustion of the day's emotions and revelations, slumping against the cool, hard surface of the cupboards. A peaceful, elated smile graced my lips, a testament to the clarity and understanding I had achieved. My eyes closed gently, surrendering to the serene aftermath of the storm of revelations, feeling every cell alive with the fierce emotion and newfound vision that had washed over me.
