An ice-cold pint of beer covered in a layer of frost sat before him. As the glass warmed with the touch of his fingers, the honey-colored liquid became exposed through the melted spots. He grabbed the handle and took a long drink; the rush of chilled beer went down his hot throat. He leaned back against the high wooden booth as he placed the glass mug down on the table made of sturdy wood. The lights of the Roxford were low and music hummed softly in the background while the barkeep towel dried glasses behind the antique bar with the leisure that came right before the rush.
“So, you’re saying that Lily won’t have a playmate?” He asked teasingly. The man across from him starred down at his own beer. His chestnut hair fell slightly across his left eye in careless waves. Effortlessly perfect all the time, Eric gave credit to his incredible barber.
They were the only patrons in the pub at the moment. A woman came by and placed a bowl of pretzels on their table. She winked at Eric as she sauntered away in a blue skirt that cradled her endowed backside. Their eyes met for a moment when she looked back, and then he turned away, uninterested.
“Maybe.” Eric replied. “I just don’t think I want kids. She wanted them, though.”
Darius starred at his friend. He felt like he hadn’t seen him in years, but hadn’t he just seen him all day at work? Eric’s eyes seemed strikingly green, like bright moss. They often changed colors, but today they were unusual, with streaks of darker and lighter green that seemed to swirl around the irises.
Eric changed the subject. “I need to make a drop later tonight. Do you want to go?”
The smile from Darius’ face disappeared and a sense of alarm seeped in from some place that forewarned of terrible things. “No, and you shouldn’t, either. It’s dangerous, Eric. You know that.”
Eric grinned, unconvinced, and asserted, “It’s not as dangerous as you think. No one knows who I am except for Lydia and Ryan.” He paused in thought, “and the High Lord whose name I cannot say, but you know who he is.”
“Yeah, and that’s three people too many. Don’t forget that I know who you are, too. I don’t know about High Lords. Can you really trust them?” Mr. Maple with his pressed suits and hurried gestures came to mind, but Darius wouldn’t utter his name. If Eric wouldn’t say it, neither would he.
“Yes, but you don’t count because you wouldn’t say anything, would you? And the High Lord, well-” he sighed and rather than finish the sentence, he took a drink.
The music in the background changed. The sounds of bass replaced the quiet rhythm of the violin, and the room became noticeably louder and crowded with people. Some were dancing while others stood in groups, chatting. Darius looked around and wondered why the Roxford was turning into a club. It never was before. The lights overhead flashed with different colors. A woman dressed in lingerie came by to refill their empty glasses from a pitcher of beer. The glasses frosted over again, and she smiled as she walked away with a grin of satisfaction.
“Ryan turned you in, remember?” Darius said as he leaned forward over the table. He suddenly remembered that Eric was in prison, yet he was sitting right in front of him. How can that be?
“Look, we’re running out of time,” Eric shot back in a louder voice. “You know they’re coming for you. They’re going to keep harassing your wife and they might even arrest her if they can’t find you.”
Darius put his hands up. “Just stop. I know that and I’m thinking about what to do.”
“Well, go ahead and keep thinking, because it’s getting you nowhere really fast. I mean, shit, you made it all the way to New Mexico and now what? You left them both behind and they’re both in danger. Man up.” Eric finished sarcastically as he raised his glass to his lips.
Darius eyed him. “Do you have any ideas?”
“Yeah, go save your family and stop being a coward.” He slammed his glass down. The beer splashed up and onto the table. Some of the beer pooled together while other parts slowly drifted towards the edge of the table and spilled over in a single stream like water from a facet. “You just keep running away, don’t you? I asked you to join me. If you had made a stand earlier, then maybe I wouldn’t be in jail. I wouldn’t have joined forces with Ryan because you would have taken his place. We would have written The Maverick together.”
Darius became defensive.. “well I started The Independent Nation because of you. I felt like I owed it to you to keep your work going. I felt bad for not helping you when you asked. And yes, I agreed with you back then and I agree with you now, but I just didn’t want to take the risk-”
“No, you took the risk,” Eric interrupted, shouting, and pointing his finger at him, “you took the risk without me, but before that you let me fall.”
Darius looked away and spotted two GPU officers near the bar. He became alarmed at their presence. They scanned the crowd, and he wondered if they were looking for him or Eric.
“I think we should go.” Darius suggested suddenly. As he looked back at Eric, he noticed his eyes had become dark, almost black. Stacks of paper surrounded him, spilling over into the booth. Darius picked up one and tried to read it but couldn’t. Yet he knew it was The Maverick and, in his mind, he knew what it said. He folded the paper and placed it in his jacket pocket.
“I won’t be going with you.” Eric replied somberly.
“What do you mean?” Darius said, concerned as he rose to his feet. He put his hand out for Eric to take it. Maybe he had too much to drink. “We need to go now before the GPU sees us. They’re over by the bar looking for someone.”
Eric laughed and stood up. “Typical Darius. I’m not going with you because I can’t. I’m in prison, remember?”
Suddenly, the wall behind their booth opened up. A vortex of wind swooped into it, carrying pages of The Maverick with it into the black hole. Pieces of the booth broke away, sucked into the darkness. Darius grabbed Eric’s arm and tried to pull him away, but Eric didn’t seem alarmed by the danger. He stood fearlessly, staring at Darius as the wind brushed his hair and lapped at his open jacket. Some people who were dancing screamed as it sucked them into the abyss, while others continued to dance. Few took notice and those that did went back to their conversations and glasses of booze, as if the vortex had no effect on them.
“What is it? What’s happening?” Darius searched the crowd as he held onto Eric’s forearm. “Come on, let’s go.”
He tried to move, but Eric stood in place. A little girl with curled pigtails and pink dress came skipping up to them. He wondered what a child was doing in a bar. She reminded Darius of Lily and was around the same age. She stopped in front of him and presented a book.
“Here.” she said in her little voice. “He told me that you’ll need this, too. You can’t leave without it, silly.” She skipped away, and Darius eyed the Holy Bible in his hand, confused.
“Keep that with you.” Eric said. “God’s love is coming back to the Earth and you must be worthy of it. If not, you’ll die with the Faction and their followers.”
Darius squinted his eyes as the wind grew fiercely stronger. “what do you mean? Do you know what’s going to happen?”
Eric nodded. “It’s time, my friend.”