The Wellzinger Project

Chapter Two (3-3)

If Marc still had a pulse, he was sure it would've been incredibly fast right now. Julius hadn't been as easy to fool as he'd assumed. He'd been aware the whole time that he'd been pickpocketed and yet hadn't accused him of doing so.
Instead he stole his heart.
"But...but..." Marc stammered, suddenly feeling like running away, but also like punching Julian if only to wipe the smug little smile off his face.
"Don't worry. I only used it to make the most curious creation. Your heart's what's powering it, of course, and giving it sentience."
The fact that he was explaining all of this so calmly only made it all the more terrifying.
"In fact, I've never had a creation of mine that was so...lively. So I suppose I should thank you for pickpocketing me in the first place, therefore giving me a valid excuse to steal your heart."
He frowned slightly. "Though, I'd have to admit, stealing hearts has never been particularly fun for me, though it's a necessary evil. Comes with the job. And from what I've heard, being alive without a pulse is more than a little disorienting..." He snapped his fingers as a sudden idea seemed to come over him, a wide, charismatic grin spreading across his face. "Marc. What if you-"
Marc wouldn't get to know what Julius had been so excited to share- not yet, at least, because as if on cue, the door slammed open and Jack ran in looking as if he'd just gotten into a fight with a fireplace. He was covered in ashes and had a wild look in his eyes, a lit cigarette jammed into his mouth.
He bolted over to the table, tracking ash everywhere and leaving a trail of smoke behind him. Jack skidded to a stop and slammed his fists down on the table. "YOU IDIOT!" Jack hissed at Julian in a voice that was his, but also not his.
Marc was used to his friend's raspy, monotone manner of speaking. Now he was all rage, a deep, wild light burning in his eyes. "You led them tight to us! This was a trap, wasn't it? An ambush?" He spat fiercely.
"What? I had nothing-" He peeked over Jack's shoulder, and paled. "Oh, dear. That's not good."
Saying that it wasn't good was most definitely an understatement. Marc turned in his seat and was sure that if he still had a heart, it would've stopped at the sight of three things shuffling towards Barney's.
They looked an awful lot like people, but they were crudely built out of different materials. One looked to be made out of stone, one mud, and one out of metal, but the metal one seemed to be on fire, and was beginning to melt, but not fast enough.
The waitress came shuffling back to Marc's table and Jack hastily sat down next to Marc.
"Are you ready to order?" She drawled, then glanced at Jack. Anyone that wasn't sleep deprived would've noted his change in appearance, but all she did was murmur, "No smoking, please." Jack- predictably- did not stop.
No one ordered anything, obviously, with much more pressing things on hand.
Julius turned to Jack, face lit up as if he'd just hit the jackpot. "A firetaker!" Then, "You are a firetaker, right?"
Jack nodded, then glanced at Marc. "Yeah. Lit my dear old Pop's shoes on fire." He chuckled dryly, though he'd developed a faraway look in his eyes.
"He was still wearing them, and it likely scarred him for the rest of his life, but it helped me escape at least once. It was enough...I was eight, then."
Julius whistled. "Impressive. And I assume you tried fighting my golems?"
"You wouldn't think it was impressive if you'd been there." Jack muttered so quietly that Marc doubted Julius could hear him.
"Those- those things are yours?" Marc sputtered, then turned to Jack. "Firetaker? Shoes?"
Before Jack could explain anything, Julius spoke. "Yes. Every good necromancer has at least one of every golem- iron, clay, and stone. Run best on human hearts. Useful enough for anything that requires menial work, but utterly incompetent when it comes to brains."
He sighed. "And it seems as if their hearts have gotten all scrambled- I knew that I should've replaced them earlier- but regardless they've all seem to have gone haywire."
"Haywire how?"
Julius winced. "Oh. They'll take their creator's heart first- all creations are made that way, to encourage the creators to take proper care of them- and they'll likely take yours, next seeing as your so near my vicinity. So I suggest we get out of here while we still can."
They made a mad dash out the door- though not without Julius leaving an overly generous tip- and headed for Jackie Jr.
"Your car?" Julius puffed.
"Oh, never." Marc answered. "That's all Jack."
"Your one intriguing man, Jackie." Julius smiled winningly at him, but Jack was already preoccupied with his precious vehicle.
"Runs like nothing else." Jack was the first in the car, with Marc scrambling into the passenger's seat, and Julian in the back.
Jack started the old car in record time and sped off towards the highway. The golems immediately changed their course and started shuffling towards the car, but Jack kept Jackie Jr. at a pace that allowed them a view of the creatures but kept them far away from attack.
He was truly the perfect getaway driver.
"So..." Marc began. "Firetaker. That isn't just some slang for a smoker, right?"
Jack smiled and started up the radio, playing the one of those cassettes he loved so much. "I wish. Unfortunately it isn't. It means I can...manipulate fire. Make fire where there isn't any. Shouldn't be any."
Marc had a vague image of Jack running through a movie theater shouting, "FIRE, FIRE!", with his hands on fire and cackling like a madman.
"There's drawbacks to this...power, I'd supposed you call it. I can't go too long without being around an open flame, or else I'll weaken and eventually die. Smoking doesn't really have an effect on me. I sound and look the way I do because I'm a firetaker, so it's like...like I carry a piece of fire inside me all of the time."
"Oh." Was all Marc could manage. For as long as he'd known Jack, he'd always smoked but he'd always just assumed that it was a coping mechanism from his earlier years- which he'd always been very tight-lipped about. There was so much that he didn't know about his best friend.
"Jack, do you-"
Julian shouted something, maybe, "Swerve!", or "Duck!", but before either could even comprehend what had been said, something hit the car with a bone-jarring thud.
Then a whole lot happened in rapid succession, though to Marc it all seemed to be happening in slow motion.
The car started to spin out of control, heading for the side of the highway, miraculously avoiding the three lanes of traffic all the while.
Jack cursed and tried to pull the vehicle right, but it wouldn't budge. So he cursed and tried the brakes. That didn't work either. He must've hit some dial or switch because the music was suddenly a whole lot louder.
Julian had unbuckled and turned around in his seat, facing the back of the car, speaking some incantation that no one could hear among all of the other noise in and outside the car. He moved his hands in a series of peculiar gestures, and ended by spreading them outward.
Then time seemed to right itself and the car squealed to a stop just short of the guardrail. Everyone seemed to relax.
A mighty explosion from somewhere behind the car sent out a wave of heat and force that was just enough to send the car flying over the guardrail and send it down some 50 feet below into who knows where.