Strandline

Strandline - Episode 18: Face-plant

The schooner‘s patchwork sails marked it as one of the Greenmen’s ships just as much as the green man stenciled on the prow. Although Petra had no idea why Naveen was sprinting straight toward it, letting him get near a crew of witches couldn’t end well. Without breaking stride she hurled a verbal and psychic command at him: “Naveen, sleep!”

Naveen slowed, shook his head, then kept running. He was closing on the ship’s gangplank fast.

Astounded and nearly out of breath, Petra slowed to a stop. Craig and Kristin soon flanked her. “It didn’t work!” Kristin exclaimed.

Naveen’s work boots thudded on the gangplank. Desperate to do something, Petra grabbed Kristin’s and Craig’s hands. We’ll try again, she told them both. Ready? They nodded. “Sleep!”

Naveen crumpled, face-planting on the worn plank of wood with a thud. Craig winced and Kristin yelped, but at least it had worked.

As they hurried across the sun-warmed sand to the ship, a young dark-haired woman looked over the bow at Naveen’s prone form. “¿Qué estás haciendo? ¿Estás bien?”

The gangplank wasn’t quite wide enough to walk two abreast, so Petra strode up the ramp first. In Spanish she told the young Greenman, “Sorry about this. He’s had one too many.” She carefully stepped around Naveen’s splayed limbs, stopping near his head. Sunlight glinted on a trickle of blood from his face.

“Do you need help?” the woman asked.

“No, thank you,” Kristin replied. “We’ll take care of him.”

Petra kneeled, then glanced over her shoulder. The Greenman was out of sight, so she turned around and met her companions’ eyes. He’s bleeding. Help me turn him over. The task was easier said than done; Naveen was solid.

As soon as he was laying on his back, Kristin gasped and covered her mouth with one hand while Craig’s eyes went wide. Petra, who’d been leaning over Naveen to help turn him, sat back and followed their gazes. A deep gash ran up Naveen’s forehead to his hairline, white bone showing in one spot. Blood flowed from it as well as his broken nose. Although the blood made Petra’s stomach twist, she refused to show her discomfort. Naveen’s injuries were her fault, in a sense. Thank goodness his chest rose and fell with sleep.

“Shit, ‘Veen!” Craig whispered as his stripped his T-shirt off. After wadding it into a ball, he leaned forward to press the cloth to broken skin.

“Wait!” Kristin said.

Petra was about to ask why when she saw it. The patch of skull was gone. She watched split skin knit itself together, and his swollen nose return to normal. The crookedness of his nose wasn’t normal, but it was better than deep gashes and bleeding.

“Holy crap,” Craig breathed, pulling his hand back.

Kristin nodded, then cocked her head. “No bar code,” she murmured.

Petra’s heart stopped. “Did you say ‘bar code’?”

“Yeah.” She pursed her lips, then added silently, We’ve seen it twice. A glowing bar code on his forehead.

Petra made herself take a deep, calming breath.

Craig fixed a suspicious yet worried look on her. “What?”

He needs to see Dodgson right away, she replied.

Why? Craig asked at the same time that Kristin said Who?

Petra started wiping the blood off of Naveen’s face with the hem of her skirt. Lewis Dodgson, the founder of Strandline, she explained. He’ll know what to do.