In Hell We Dance

Embers

"Matthew... It's such an... unassuming name."

I throw out my shoulders defensively.

"What were you expecting? He's common trash. Ain't anything special about that motherfucker."

Corin hammers away on her iPad, one of the few possessions she took with her on her flight to Hell. So she wasn't entirely bored. Not many power outlets around here, but she's got herself a nifty little portable charger. I don't remember her crashing here with it so I asked her about it one day.

"I've gone home," she said simply.

"And your parents are fine with you showing up out of the blue like that?"

"When they're not home... Did run into Sammy. Very ugly. He's a quiet one, bottling up all this rage. Feel like he needs a punching bag or some shit."

"I dunno. Kind of defeats the point of running from home if you keep coming back to get what you want."

Corin had shrugged defensively. "I'm not gone permanently. Just until I've figured shit out."

"Feel like you could figure shit out at a hotel or something, darling."

"Oh come now, Isaac. We're both here for the same reason. It's where we belong."

"Yeah," I grunted. "Maybe."

I've noticed the trembling. There's dirt under her fingernails and her eyes sometimes get this glossed-over look. I know the signs, but it's not my place to say anything. She's got her own shit. I've got mine.

"Alright," she says after a while, leaning back, stretching her toes. The burbling of the water sounds almost deafening, but maybe everything's just set to a hundred. My heart's racing, unsure what to do with itself. "this is him."

"That simple?" I breathe.

She shrugs.

"Must not have been trying real hard."

I bristle, taking that personally. To be fair, it wasn't a simple Google search. No results showed up. Corin worked a little of her magic, magic being a force these muddy toes daren't dip in.

"How'd you track him? Leave a digital footprint or something?"

"I got in contact with some people. And yes, I did find connections. A place he was employed at recently. Lots of phone calls. Lots of time. I had fun."

She tilts the screen toward me. The page flickers then a white box opens to a map. The little red line reveals all. He's only an hour and a half away. He's close. I'm closer than I've ever been. Maybe running to this backwater city wasn't such a terrible idea after all.

"I..." I gulp, suddenly at a loss for words. Weird.

"He might not be here, but..." she pushes the screen back then her fingers dance along the keys until a new screen pops up. "Right. Here. There's a pub near the place. You're bound to find someone there whose seen him. If not..." Corin trails off, but I press my lips into a line. Nothing will go wrong. I'll find him. I know this game; I know it well.

Forcing myself to my feet, I steady myself against the willow and clutch at my head. It's not just the dizziness. My head's flaring, skin tearing at itself, a primal force begging for release. I feel the cool metal of the gun in my back pocket and that works wonders. I'm not calm, just cool. There's a difference.

It's a steadiness, a perfect measure of control. You're never quite there, but you trick your mind, your soul into believing you are. Except it don't feel like a trick. I've never felt so damn certain. About anything. 'Cept maybe Connor.