The Decoder - Chapter 4

I rocketed backwards into my home world – into my home town – into one of my favorite inn’s small, rickety beds. I lay panting for a minute, then sat bolt upright. Why was I in a bed? The decoder fell out of my hand. I grabbed it, then stormed out of the room into the bar. I checked my watch. Ten in the morning.

“Hey, you,” I shouted at the barman, shouldering my way through several indignant customers. “Look here, someone has been moving me around. I was sitting in my chair – ”

“No worries, miss,” he smiled benevolently. “Ye was fallen asleep in ye chair, so me an some of the lads ’ere took the liberty of carrying you out. You were right out of it, miss. Slept sound straight through, miss.”

“Oh,” I said, somewhat deflated. “I was asleep.”

“Fast asleep, miss. Me an’ the laddies, we suspected foul play, till ye started snorin’. He-he he-he…” The laugh quickly turned into a guarded cough as I glared at him.

“One bottle of still water,” I snarled, in a reasonable imitation of Victor, slamming the payment for the night onto the counter and whipping around to glower at the indignant, but certainly very silent customers. I collected my water and marched outside, where I stepped on broken roof tile.

“Ouch – sh – ” strangled oaths escaped my clenched teeth, as I lifted my foot to check for cuts and bleeding. Fortunately, I had very hard soles from running and the jagged edges had failed to pierce my layers of fossilized skin and mud.

I limped out into the street. It was just warming up for the day and promised to be a scorcher. I clenched the decoder in my hand, peered around suspiciously and set off. It always calmed me down, running. I headed away from my home – I needed more time to think, about the decoder and the marriage. I groaned. The marriage was old news, but still worrying. She hadn’t even told me! I put on a burst of speed to get rid of the thought. The decoder. Now that was much worse. I didn’t know where to begin: one second here, the next in a pack of wolves. It just wasn’t fair. Where were the clues? The trails?

“Esme!”

I ignored the voice.

“Esme! Stop right there! I’m the town javelin champion and I’ve got a stick!”

It was Amy. I slowed and turned. She was actually posed with the damn thing ready to launch.

“Amy,” I laughed, “were you actually serious about that threat?” There was a loud thump behind me.

“Dead serious,” said Wayne, as I spun around.

“So where is Lucy?” I queried. They were the Esme Retrieval Team. I was sure that my mother paid them to fetch me when I ran. They were also my most trusted friends and training buddies. Amy was, as she said, the javelin champion. Wayne was a spectacular long jumper and Lucy was the sprint queen.

“Look behind you, Essie,” Wayne grinned cheerfully. I spun and was nearly strangled as Lucy grabbed me.

“Look at this!” she blurted, pushing a book in my face. “The new Divine Watchers novel! I just bought it today!”

Lucy was a devout follower of those rotten teen fictions with the black covers and the miserable girls skulking on the foreground. I stuck to Dickens for safety.

“The Black Phantom,” I read. “This looks nice. What’s it about?”

Lucy’s face glowed with enthusiasm. “It’s this girl, Nathalie, who is an angel. She fights the powers of eeeevil,” she reveled in the morbid syllable. “Then there’s this bad guy, Leon, who’s got magic powers! I think he’s going to fall for her and turn into a good angel too. It’s soooo cool!”

“Enough of that,” laughed Amy. “We hear that you’ve been a naughty girl. Running away from home again, it seems.”

“Did you hear the rest of it?” I growled, returning to my bad mood. “My mother has decided to marry that idiot Bernard guy! And she only told me afterwards!”

“What?! No! That is completely foul!” Amy said, shocked. “She can’t just do that!”

“I’m really sorry about that, Esme,” Wayne said sympathetically.

“Esme, we’re on your side,” Lucy declared seriously, clutching her precious volume.

I stared at my old friends, all wearing similar expressions of defiance and righteous anger, and started to laugh. It had been coming on for a while and when it burst out, it was explosive in its hilarity.

“I’m sorry,” I gasped, “I just need to let off some steam. I’ve had a very strange night – I’ve slept over at – you won’t believe me – werewolves!”

This brought on another fit of irrepressible laughter, ending in a strangled squeal as Amy poked me with the stick.

“Esme, what is going on?” she said, real concern in her voice. The team dragged me over to a bench and sat me down on it.

“Do you think she’s gone mental because of the marriage?” Wayne asked Lucy.

“Wait, she’ll probably say more once she’s gotten over the hysterical stage,” Lucy replied. She narrowed her eyes as she turned on me. “Esme, what are you talking about?”

I stopped laughing. This was going to be hard.

“Okay,” I took a deep breath, holding out the decoder. “This is a decoder. Possibly the decoder. I’m not sure exactly what it does, but it certainly can cause strange hallucinations. Last night I was holding it and it sort of transported my mind into a painting.” I could see this wasn’t working. Only Lucy seemed impressed.

“Do you think it could take people into books?” she asked eagerly.

“I don’t know! I just got it last night. I slept over at the werewolf family, remember!”

“Werewolves?” Amy laughed.

“It’s not funny! I was covered in hair! And harassed, held hostage and almost eaten!”

“Where did you get it?” Wayne asked, slowly.

“I sort of stole it – ”

“Esme!” Amy gasped. “You can’t steal things!”

“No, but this doesn’t really count,” I protested. “I was running along quietly, when suddenly this strange search party comes up and – ”

“Search party? How did you know?” Wayne broke in.

“They were carrying flashlights and stop interrupting me!” I yelled.

So, with many more interruptions despite my threats, I told the whole story.

“Ooh, you could publish that, it’d make a fortune,” Lucy observed.

“I still think you’re crazy,” said Wayne.

Amy was silent. “Prove it,” she said at last.

“All right,” I said, twisting the decoder. It snapped open. I repeated the action until it was a thin, flat sheet. Lucy raised her eyebrows. “What’s next?”

I turned it over. There was the writing.

“State: Annoyed

159.323”

“See?” I said triumphantly. “What happens is that the numbers race backwards yes, look – it’s going…” my voice trailed off as the torpor embraced me.

“Esme! What’s going on?” the team clutched at my shoulders. I couldn’t move.

“Oh no,” said Lucy. “Look at the numbers!”

“State: Worried

153 478.1

State: Anxious

167 456.8

State: Worried

137 914.2

State: Relaxed

96 264.6”

“It’s got us too!”

I cast my eyes downwards, and through a mist of happy oblivion, found The Black Phantom.

“State: Alpha

672.5”