“What can we do?” a young lady in her mid-twenties asked.

  “Can you get us more people?” Second asked.

  Another lady nodded. “I know the staff from the other hotels. I’ll go get them.” She ran off.

  “Great. The rest of you, we need to secure these kids and administer the antidote. Go in pairs and get them ready,” Second ordered the crowd and they all dispersed.

  In less than twenty minutes, with their new team of assistants, they had contained the situation. Children and teenagers alike were scattered all over the park. Each were being watched over by one of the caring souls who had volunteered. They made sure none of their patients puked on themselves or stopped breathing.

  Eugene sighed. He didn’t know what to do. The situation was spinning out of control and they weren’t getting any closer to finding the werewolves.

  He slowly walked towards the truck, hoping to dry himself with the sun. Out of the corner of his eye, Eugene saw movement. He turned around to find the female werewolf from the club—the same one who’d hit him. Without thinking, he rushed at her. The girl was leaning against a car with a grin on her face, as if she was enjoying the drama she’d created. Then she turned to face Eugene.

  “Really, little boy? You don’t learn, do you,” she said, still smirking.

  “What is wrong with you?” Eugene shouted at her, his hands clenched and shaking at his sides.

  “Nothing. I just don’t like humans. Not my fault your drugs are so good,” she told him with a laugh.

  Eugene couldn’t stop himself. He threw a punch, and he almost fell over as he did. But he missed by a mile.

  “You need practice,” the girl told him, laughing. “I’m glad your face recovered so quickly. It would be a shame to permanently damage such a beautiful specimen.”

  The girl gave Eugene a kick to the chest and he went flying backwards, landing flat on his back on the ground. He tried to get up, but she’d knocked the air right out of him. He hunched over, trying to catch his breath.

  “Bye, handsome,” The girl waved, then hopped in her car.

  Eugene rolled over with both his chest and pride injured.

  “Eugene, are you okay?” Bob shouted as he came running with Shorty and Second in tow.

  “E, what were you thinking taking on that chick all by yourself?” Shorty asked him while Bob and he helped Eugene to his feet. “I saw that girl take on five guys at one time and she destroyed them.”

  Eugene gave Shorty a wide-eyed glance. “Now you tell me.”

  “How was I supposed to know you were going to go all Mortal Combat on her ass?” Shorty asked him. “You are the sensible one in the group. That’s the kind of stuff Isis would do,” he said, inspecting him for injuries.

  “Nice job, Rookie. I was impressed,” Second told him.

  They climbed in the truck and headed towards Reapers. This day was not going as well as Eugene had hoped.

  “By the way, nice throw,” Bob told Eugene. “If she was human, you would have taken her out. We need to work on your speed and dodging, then you will be in top fighting shape,” Bob told Eugene.

  “Thanks,” Eugene replied. He liked the idea of being able to hold his own. “I will take you up on that offer and start training with you guys.” Might as well. Bob and Isis had offered to train him on multiple occasions. At the time, he had never seen the need, although part of his hesitancy was from embarrassment. Isis was so much better than him, so he didn’t want her to laugh when he sucked. After this week, he didn’t care. Eugene was ready to take care of himself and his friends.

  “I think we can take off now,” Bob told the group. “We need to stop by Reapers and get Eugene dry clothes and regroup. Shorty, keep patrolling and report if you find anything,” Bob told Shorty.

  “Will do Big Bob,” Shorty replied and took off for his truck.

  “Aren’t you glad you had a big breakfast?” Bob told both Interns as they headed towards the truck.

  “At this rate, I’m sure I have burned all the calories I ate,” Eugene told Bob, who only smiled in response.

  The boys were quiet all the way back to Reapers. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts. It had been a long day already and it wasn’t even noon yet. Eugene was staring at his hands, afraid to look out the window. He was sure if he did, he would only see overdosed kids.

  He was grateful when they made it back to Reapers, although he wasn’t ready to face Constantine and tell him he failed again.

  After clearing all the securities, Bob parked Storm in its assigned space. Second jumped out of the truck, full of energy. Eugene, on the other hand, dragged himself out.

  “Oh wow,” Second said in a high-pitched tone. “That was insane. I have not seen that kind of action in decades. What am I saying? I have never seen that much action. Not ever. We need to get ready. I’m going to make more antidote.” He took off running for the lab without waiting for an answer.

  “Is he always that excited?” Bob asked Eugene.

  “Never,” Eugene replied. “Then again, I’m finding out that I really don’t know my peers as well as I’d thought. So this could be his normal self and I didn’t know it,” he told Bob as he stared in the direction of the lab.

  “Eugene, what’s the matter?” Bob asked him, concern etched into his words.

  “She got away again,” Eugene whispered, looking at the floor. “Things like that wouldn’t happen to Isis.” It was time for a pity party, and he needed to cut it out.

  “Are we talking about the same Isis?” Bob asked Eugene.

  “Of course. How many people named Isis do you know?” Eugene met Bob’s eyes.

  “The Isis I know is a work in progress, and although we love her, she is nowhere near perfect,” Bob told Eugene. “For the first six months on the job, she got beat up left and right.” Eugene gave Bob an incredulous look. “Isis is a musician, a fact you already know, but it took her a while to get used to her new role. She never gave up, though, regardless of how much she hated it. Every situation is not going to go perfect; the catch is to learn from them and get better.” His features softened.

  “I guess I never thought about it that way,” Eugene answered.

  “Take a shower and get some clean clothes. You will feel much better,” Bob told Eugene. “I’ll go brief the boss.” Eugene nodded at Bob and watched him head towards the loft. Bob and Isis were both prior military, so they hadn’t lost their soldier tendencies. Reporting back with an update was one of them.

  Eugene headed inside Bob’s apartment with his shoulders slumped. He stepped inside the apartment and flicked the light switch on.

  “Hi Eugene,” Death said.

  Eugene screamed like a little girl who just had her favorite doll stolen.

  “I’m so sorry that I startled you,” Death told Eugene, trying to hide a smile.

  “Are you trying to take me to my final home?” Eugene asked Death with his hand over his heart. “I think I had a heart attack. Maybe not, but I might’ve peed my pants,” he confessed.

  “Those are your only options?” Death asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure I have more, but they aren’t polite enough to say out loud,” Eugene told Death, finally making eye contact.

  Death always scared the hell out of Eugene. He saw Death as a tall man, with dark hair and dark eyes that resembled a strict school principal or angry librarian. Eugene had no idea why, since Isis explained that for her Death was a beautiful woman. Eugene wondered why he couldn’t get the beautiful woman instead of the angry man.

  “Are you breathing again?” Death asked Eugene, rising from the couch and fixing his suit. Death always had incredible tailored suits. That’s one thing his version and Isis’s had in common: the clothes were exquisite.

  “I think so but I’m not sure for how much longer,” Eugene confessed. He had never had a private visit from Death before.

  “I’m not here to collect you,” Death told him.

  “I’m confused then,” Eugene said.

  “Why did you save that child?” Death asked Eugene.

  Eugene wasn’t sure how to reply. He took a deep breath before trying. “He was an innocent little boy. He didn’t deserve to suffer like that,” he told Death.

  “But you are okay with adults dying?” Death asked Eugene, making him uncomfortable.

  Eugene shrugged. “I guess.” He had never thought about it. “I don’t really want people to die.” And as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he actually meant them.

  “Why do you work for Pestilence then?” Death asked, and that was the question he’d been avoiding asking himself.

  “I don’t know,” Eugene blurted.

  “You do know. Why Eugene?” Death pressed him.

  “I like doing experiments. I just never thought about the consequences of those experiments.” The truth made him feel selfish, and that upset him more than anything else.

  “Eugene, we all have a purpose and path in this existence,” Death told Eugene. “You are a gifted scientist, hence the reason Pestilence recruited you. You can work for her and still have your boundaries,” he explained.

  “How?” Eugene asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “Same way you target what groups you pick. Avoid groups with children,” Death answered.

  “Wouldn’t the Mistress get mad?” Eugene asked, sure if he did that he’d get fired.

  “Pestilence can be difficult and demanding, but she also understands humanity,” Death told him. “Talk to your peers. You will discover that each of them have a soft spot for something. That’s how she balances the lab.”

  Eugene really needed to pay more attention to his people.

  “Is that why you are here? To give me a pep talk,” Eugene asked.

  “Sometimes Interns need confirmation that they are on the right path,” Death told him.

  “Death, what if I can’t stop the werewolves?” Eugene asked, playing with his shirt.

  “You are not alone, Eugene. The weight of this problem does not rest only on your shoulders. Trust the team. They won’t let you down.” Death looked deep into Eugene’s eyes, and he was convinced Death could read thoughts.

  “What if I let them down?” That was his biggest fear. He didn’t want to let anyone down. Not again, and not anymore.

  “If you let them down, which you won’t, it won’t be the first or the last time,” Death said with a smile. “You are human, Eugene, and a young one at that. You will disappoint people and let some down. It’s the nature of growing. Stop beating yourself up. You moping around is not helping anyone, including yourself.”

  Eugene straightened his back. “I wasn’t moping.”

  Death crossed his arms and angled his head.

  Eugene put his hands out in front of him. “Fine. I was having a pity party. And by the looks of it, the party is over.” The last thing he needed was to be known as the moping Intern.

  “All you need to do is try, Eugene. As long as you are trying to do your best, people will trust you,” Death told Eugene.

  That sounded way too simple.

  The front door to the apartment opened and Eugene turned around. Bob rushed through the door.

  “Why are you standing here? You still haven’t showered?” Bob asked Eugene.

  “Sorry, I was just talking to Death.” Eugene told Bob, pointing behind him.

  Bob gave him a strange look. “You were, huh?”

  Eugene turned to find Death no longer there. “Where did he go?” Eugene asked. “I swear, he was here.” Was he going crazy now?

  “Relax Eugene. I believe you,” Bob told him. “Death does that all the time. It took me a few months to get used to it. Are you feeling better?”

  “Actually, I do” Eugene told him in a confident tone. “All I can do is my best. Nothing more, nothing less.” He gave Bob a pointed stare, daring him to argue.

  “That’s all we ever asked of you,” Bob said. “And your best is pretty impressive. Why do you think Constantine lets you come back?”

  “I thought it was because Death made him,” Eugene answered.

  “Do you honestly think anyone, including Death, can make Constantine do something he doesn’t want to do?” Bob shook his head for added emphasis.

  “You have a valid point there,” Eugene said “You guys don’t mind that I keep losing stuff?” Eugene’s voice was a little shaky when he asked.

  “Between you and Isis, there is never a dull moment,” Bob admitted. “But enough talk. We need to go soon. Abuelita wants us now.” He headed towards the door.

  “Do I still have time to shower?” Eugene asked hopefully.

  “Oh, you better. I just wiped down Storm,” Bob told him. “But make it quick,” he said as he stepped out.

  “Yes Sir,” Eugene told Bob, then he rushed to the bathroom.

  Eugene was hoping for a long shower, but that was not an option. He settled for another super-fast shower. When he forced himself to climb out, he threw on a pair of cargo pants and a lose t-shirt, then stepped out of the room. When he walked in the living room, he found Bartholomew inspecting Bob’s TV stand.

  “Holy crap. What is it with you guys appearing out of the blue?” Eugene told Bartholomew. “First Death tries to give me a heart attack, and now you.”

  “Sorry, Eugene,” Bartholomew said, blushing. “Bob said you were on a tight schedule and I wanted to catch you before you took off,” he confessed.

  “I’m kidding, Bart. What’s going on?” Eugene smiled.

  “Bob said you tried to take on a werewolf by yourself,” Bartholomew told him.

  “Did he tell you how much I sucked?” Eugene’s good mood was disappearing.

  “No. On the contrary, actually. He said you did pretty well,” Bartholomew told Eugene, who was surprised by that comment. “The problem is not you,” Bartholomew said, and Eugene gave him a skeptical look. “Not entirely. Yes, you need more training, but you are still dealing with supernatural beings. That means the playing field is not fair.”

  “Bart, you are not making me feel better,” Eugene confessed.

  “I know, sorry,” Bartholomew said in a hurry. “Here.” He gave Eugene a package he had picked up from the couch. Eugene hadn’t even noticed it.

  “You got me a present,” Eugene told him with a hand over his heart.

  “I ordered it last night after I saw the results of your fight,” Bartholomew told Eugene. Isis had bragged Bartholomew had the best delivery service on the planet. Eugene felt the need to tell Isis that had been an understatement.

  “What is it?” Eugene asked Bartholomew as he eyed the box.

  “It works better when you open it,” Bartholomew told him.

  Eugene ripped the box open to find a pair of black combat boots, and some brass knuckles. He pulled the boots out and noticed they were his size.

  “Am I getting an Isis uniform?” Isis had more combat boots than most active-duty soldiers. Eugene always admired her boots, but he wasn’t sure how they were going to help him today.

  “These are better,” Bartholomew told him in an excited voice. “Instead of steel toe, you got silver. Same thing with the knuckles. They are silver and coated in wolfsbane.” Perfect for knocking out werewolves, or just keeping them away.

  “You got these for me?” Eugene wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug Bartholomew or cry.

  “You are my boy. I can’t let you walk around unprotected,” Bartholomew told Eugene. “I just wished they had been here earlier,” he added.

  “Bart, it’s perfect right now. Thank you so much,” Eugene told him and gave him a fist bump.

  “Glad you like it,” Bartholomew said with a huge smile. “It won’t kill them, but it will give you a fair chance. Okay, I have to get back upstairs. Bob told me to tell you to hurry. Don’t be late,” he mumbled the last part before running out the door.

  “Thanks Bart,” Eugene told him again as he took a seat on the couch to change his shoes. He was surprised how much his confidence had risen just by receiving a pair of boots. He wasn’t helpless. Even if the werewolves could take him, he was planning to give them hell before they did.

  Eugene rode in the truck with Bob in a much better mood. He was feeling a lot more secure and even fearless. He was sure it was an adrenaline high, but he didn’t care. His friends didn’t hate him and it was okay for him to avoid kids in his experiments. Eugene hadn’t realized how many things he’d been worrying about under the surface.

  “You look a lot happier,” Bob told him as he drove down Highway Eighty Two towards Abuelitas. Abuelitas was a small Tex-Mex restaurant on Nash, right off the highway. The owner was Abuelita, the coolest grandmother Eugene had ever met. She was around six feet tall, with fabulous silver hair. She was still beautiful for her age. Eugene dreamed of having a grandmother like her. Not to mention he loved her food.

  “I feel calmer,” Eugene told Bob. “I loved Bartholomew’s gifts. I’m also hoping Abuelita has food ready.” Eugene was hungry and would take any excuse for a plate of Abuelita’s chicken enchiladas.

  “It’s Abuelitas. Of course there will be food,” Bob told him. “The goal would be to not eat so much we end up in a food coma and unable to work.” Eugene hated when Bob added reason to his food plans.

  “Thanks,” Eugene mumbled. “I was ready for the food coma.”

  “I’m sure you were,” Bob told him, shaking his head in amusement. “Did your boots fit?”

  “Bartholomew is good. They fit perfectly.” Although Eugene had no idea when Bartholomew had checked his shoe size.

  “Here, this is for you,” Bob told Eugene. “They are Chinese throwing stars, small enough so nobody will notice them. Best part is, they are made of silver.”

  Eugene ripped the box apart. “Oh wow, these are great,” Eugene said as he played with the stars.

  “Glad you like them,” Bob told Eugene as he pulled into the parking lot of Abuelitas.

  “That’s weird. The place is empty,” Eugene told Bob.

  “Abuelita keeps changing her hours. She is only doing dinner on Tuesdays,” Bob explained.

 

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