The Permutation

Apex (Part 5) Paul

A more well-adjusted version of himself would have acknowledged the fact that in some twisted way, he enjoyed doing things for the greater good, but that was a dangerous thing to admit. If he did, people would start expecting good things from him and that wasn't his style. Being the good guy was going to be a one time thing. Besides, Paul being the good guy still meant slit tendons and split skulls.

I'm not built to be a hero. They don't make heroes in size XXL.

The scattered group of people returned to the truck as their implied rally point. They immediately started chattering on how to proceed. None of them appeared to be on the same page.

The Asian woman was focused on asking questions, and that's how Paul remembered where he knew her. She was a newswoman he occasionally saw online when he tried to keep up to date on local news. While she did her reporter thing, the kids, with the exception of the one that had huddled in the truck with tear stained cheeks, were more interested in making the Beings "fix" Jordan's mother, but the two Beings seemed as confused as everyone else.

The tall man in the trench coat stood apart from the group. He hadn't participated in the fighting. He had waited by the truck. Coiled anxiety radiated off of him in waves, like he was prepared to spring into action but only in a moment of true danger.

Apparently nothing before qualified.

The rest of the group was too busy trying to talk over each other to notice two things. One, the dog seemed to be just as engaged in the conversation as everyone else. He had his head cocked to one side like he was listening with rapt attention. Two, the feverish glow of a fire was approaching their group. Not at a rapid pace, but its path did not deviate a hair.

It's definitely headed towards us, and it looks almost... white.

Paul broke into a sweat. He could almost feel the heat from here. He called to his tendrils and they responded. Paul felt the tendrils start to encircle his frame, but they were unable to do much more.

Despite Paul's recovery, the tendrils couldn't carry him away without the aid of the Relaxzen Rocker. The chair had been a good focus for Paul's energy, and it was something he was as familiar with as the back of his hand. Paul knew the difference between each and every stain whether it be a splotch of salsa or a darkened circle of dried sweat.

I even know the exact amount of change in the cushions. $1.17.

"I don't mean to be the rain on your wedding day, but if you all could pull your heads out of your collective asses, we've got a problem," Paul said, "Unless of course any of you gentlemen carry around a fire hose in your pants."

To Paul's surprise, the trench coat man reacted first. He took a couple of unconscious steps backwards, and that's when Paul noted the soot on his face. It all made sense. The guy had a run in with the fire before, and the fire had come back for best two out of three.

As the fire approached the perimeter of the fence, Paul could make out silhouettes of forms on all fours ringing the edges of the fire, like they wanted what was inside, but still had enough inhibition to not jump inside. They were content waiting for whatever was inside.

"It's time for you to go," said the woman with purple hair.

She had been silent for the large majority of the fighting, but her patience had reached its end. 

Paul didn't blame her. Indecision is the trademark of a fool even if the fool had good intentions.

"I couldn't agree more," said the more thoughtful of the two Beings. His face seemed to droop while he watched the fire as if his face were made of wax.