Jax

Jax helped whenever she was directed, though the sheer scope and size of Jack’s armory was clearly a bit overwhelming. How could there be ANYTHING dangerous left in Maroa with Jack watching over it, with all this?

In the end he barely had to suggest they turn in. Jax was almost asleep where she stood, tail looped around her wrist as she yawned a massive, sharp-toothed yawn. If provided any sort of bedding whatsoever, it would immediately be fashioned into a little nest.

Her dreams were dark and fretful.

But come the next day she was as awake and alert and solemn as if preparing for…well, battle. Jack would find her already awake when he stirred, perched at one of the windows and staring out across the lot as if expecting the Thing to come crawling over the broken-down chain link. “Jack give thanks ask help doll Jax make,” she suggested over her shoulder, quite seriously. 

The night before a hunt was sometimes difficult. It was not fear but the anticipation and excitement of putting a plan into action. Later on in life, he learned to compare it to the night before Christmas morning.

Jack felt stiff as usual from sleeping on his floor mattress. He rose and began putting on his armor before anything else.

“Small Jack here safe is, while big big real Jack out danger meet. Jack ask one other be, one other safe keep.” When he was done she stood up and looked down at her own sweater. Meager protection. 

“Oh.” She drooped a little. As she listened to him, her eyes flickered in the firelight, long hands folded over her knees. It made her seem smaller than she was.

“Helpers? Humans help people not humans help both?” She asked after a moment of consideration, tilting her head. “But…not learn hear of, not know til Keegan meet speak. How others know helpers find seek?” All the secrecy made her head hurt. And knowing that there were people out there, people who knew about aliens and wanted to help them but made themselves hidden anyway…it almost felt more lonely than if they weren’t there at all.

“What Keegan group family name is?”

“I know,” Mercy sighed, as Jax’s confusion was not without merit. “It’s not ideal. We must abide by the Regulator’s secrecy.” A hint of bitterness had found its way into his voice, but he continued: “We are also new to this area so many have not heard of us.”

He then fished around in his pockets and retrieved a small slip of paper. Another quick rummage revealed a small pen and the Saint began to write down a number.

“...What numbers say mean?” She asked finally, blinking at Mercy owlishly. “Secret is? Word...word code is? Solaris word secret numbers is?” A note of excitement and befuddlement entered her voice.

Jax gave his hand a sudden squeeze, as if gripping onto him for safety. But then she relented, offering him a somewhat watery smile. “Jack alone together Jax with,” she replied, and then laughed a little at how that sounded. “But yes! Yes. Finish will, win will!” She nodded her wild-haired head with more confidence than perhaps she felt.

Standing back up, she clapped her hands together, tail curling around her leg. “How where start now? All this all weapons Jack bring?”

He gave a soft laugh and finished pulling out the harpoon parts from their crates. They seemed weighty even in his grasp, but he still hefted them with ease. “We’re bringing this to set a trap. Since its touch is toxic, we may want a ranged approach. I have a bow and arrow.” He turned and went suddenly to another box, this one with bright orange EXPLOSIVE stickers decorating it. “…Exploding arrows. Good idea!”

Invigorated, Jack went through several boxes and collected weapons and gear to stack on a table. When he was done, their plan was based around trapping the creature under felled trees and harpooning it to prevent its escape. Then Jack, with Jax guiding him, could fire upon it with the explosive arrows.

In the end he barely had to suggest they turn in. Jax was almost asleep where she stood, tail looped around her wrist as she yawned a massive, sharp-toothed yawn. If provided any sort of bedding whatsoever, it would immediately be fashioned into a little nest.

Her dreams were dark and fretful.

“Not Regulator is,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Not feel smell Regulator. Human is…many thoughts have, many thoughts in eyes see but not Keegan thoughts speak.” Jax made a somewhat alien gesture, drawing a line with her fingertips between her gaze and his, as if tracing an invisible string. “And, Keegan not surprised by Jax is, know alien word vampires. Some humans…alien friends make? Okay is some humans meet?” She perked up hopefully at the thought. The fire in her little stove crackled and popped, and smelled good, as if she’d learned what trees yielded the most fragrant wood for burning.

It was good she had broached this topic herself. Mercy–Keegan–folded his hands atop each other to brush calloused thumb over weathered knuckle.

“No.” A shame. “It was a blessing that you met me tonight, but I’m an exception to a rule. You should not approach other humans–for your safety and theirs. Regulators would not approve.”

He smiled. “I am part of a small group of helpers. We help with…” Mercy gestured at Jax’s mended wounds. “… That and otherwise, and we do it without Regulators. Should you ever meet someone who needs help, we can look into it.”

“Helpers? Humans help people not humans help both?” She asked after a moment of consideration, tilting her head. “But…not learn hear of, not know til Keegan meet speak. How others know helpers find seek?” All the secrecy made her head hurt. And knowing that there were people out there, people who knew about aliens and wanted to help them but made themselves hidden anyway…it almost felt more lonely than if they weren’t there at all.

Mercy allowed the fretting, though his own glance fell distractedly to Jax’s labored breathing. He hovered in the midst of the platform and took in the artistry of interwoven function and form before his host’s movements drew his attention from the wooden platform to the homely oven.

A moment of pause swept over him as surely as the night breeze did through bough. “You’ve given me plenty,” he stated with a reserved smile.

His internal, mental document on Bahije had already reached 63 pages in length.

”You should rest. I am happy enough to see your home.”

64.

“Hmm.” Jax sounded unsure about that. The distinctive strike of metal against stone sounded, and a spray of sparks glittered into the kindling of the oven. In a twinkling a cheerful fire was crackling in its clay house. She fed bits of wood to it and then sat back a little, patting the space across from her.

It was strange how that worked.

He recalled quiet laughs in the southern hills of Italy, among bent boughs and ditches of Ireland, and ached.

”Ah, yes. I don’t mind sitting for a moment.” Jax’s tree was homely and he lowered his bulk onto the space she’d indicated with grace. Nonetheless, he heaved a sigh. “Forgive me, but I am a bit old.” The phone in his pocket vibrated and he reached to mute it.

“No!” Jax blurted hurriedly, her eyes popping with worry. “Jack alive should be! Help Jax, help others! Jax not dead should be, even if sad is lonely is. Find Jack, help Jack.” She reached out and put her long hand on top of his, warm and soft. 

“No, family say Jax stupid not smart is,” she replied with a soft, hooting laugh. “But okay is.”

Jax glanced up at him and then let him have his hand back gently. “Jax…worried also is. Scared is. But also…” Her face scrunched. “Confused is. Many feelings not same is all one time is. Coronarium gone is, nothing home have. Thing home from home live. But bad is, hurt will. Dead should be.” She shrugged, and grabbed automatically for her tail to worry at.

Jax noted the sudden tang of anger and anxiety that came off of Jack when she touched his face, and made a silent promise not to do it again. But she was gentle with his hand, turning it over and exclaiming over his claws and fretting over his scars.

“Eight hundred?” She gasped, head snapping up to blink at him. “Old, very old Jack is! Many many years, many hunts have!” Her anxiety over the upcoming conflict eased almost immediately. Someone didn’t live to be 800 years old if he wasn’t very good at staying alive.

Jax turned and beamed at him joyfully. “Yes!” She agreed, and then started scrambling upwards, grunting a little at the flashes of pain rippling down her side. “Craven tree grow help! Wait hold Keegan! Ladder have!”

Her rustling sounds faded upwards. A moment passed in silence—somewhere, an owl muttered in the dark. Then with a hoot of warning the sound of something rattling and crashing towards him broke the nighttime serenity. A sturdy plank and rope ladder unfurled itself all the way to the ground—it was clearly handmade.

“Okay! Up up! Keegan climb can? Help need?” Two pricks of light far overhead indicated she was peering down at him with anxiety.

Ah. She expected him to climb up.

… He shouldn’t be surprised.

Mercy reached for one of the rung and gave it an experimental tug. He then ran his hand across it as though it was cause for curious study rather than something he was uncertain about. He glanced up at the twin reflections that were Jax’s worried eyes.

“Keegan good climb! Good!” She reached out to run her hands over him as if checking to see if he was alright, even though her own breathing was shallow and painful. She was going to have to rest for a long time before climbing again. Good thing she had plenty of food.

“This Jax home tree home place!” She announced, gesturing behind her at her tent and hanging chimes and clay oven. Amongst the branches hung bags and strings of dried fish and fruit, sloshing gourds and containers full of water. It was peaceful and quiet here.

“Yes!” She chirped, unbuckling carefully and tumbling out of the car. The sudden movement made her sway, clutching at the handle with her eyes screwed shut. But then she seemed to regain her sense of balance, and shakily started off into the gloom.

She paused and looked behind her, blinking. “Keegan walk come? Jax woods trees know, safe is. Help human Keegan way find not trip fall!” If he consented, she would be true to her word, leading him carefully through the autumn underbrush. Even injured, she was sure footed, pointing out hidden stones and sudden dips in the forest floor to her human friend. After all, he couldn’t see so well in the dark.

It was soon obvious which tree was her home—it loomed above all the surrounding trees, more massive than any old growth Keegan had likely ever seen. And the sound of wooden windchimes sounded from somewhere overhead.

Mercy followed Jax’s direction to the letter, and he arrived under the shadow of her home tree’s boughs without encountering any more difficulty than a stray branch or two snagging on his over-broad shoulders. The sound of the chimes had him lifting his chin to peer up into the spiraling branches of this forest behemoth. The sky overhead with all its wisps of clouds and peeking stars could scarcely penetrate through the canopy.

Her rustling sounds faded upwards. A moment passed in silence—somewhere, an owl muttered in the dark. Then with a hoot of warning the sound of something rattling and crashing towards him broke the nighttime serenity. A sturdy plank and rope ladder unfurled itself all the way to the ground—it was clearly handmade.

Jax gave tiny hoots of alarm when the car went too fast for her liking, but otherwise behaved herself. The drive-thru was intriguing—was there a human inside that little box Keegan spoke into? Why would they do that? Why was it so bright? What was a homewrecker?

The sheer wall of Good Smell entering the car along with all the bags erased all these questions. Her eyes bugged straight out of her skull at how much FOOD was inside all of them. She sniffed, threatening tears again at this generosity. “Not know what is but good smell, good! Thank Keegan money food buy!”

She puzzled out the foil burrito wrapper easily enough, holding it with surprising and comical delicacy as she bit into it. A noise of surprise and delight came out of her. Jax loved spicy foods, even though she didn’t know the word for it—lots of spices and heat, just the way food ought to be if you were going to cook it, because cooked food was special and for a special occasion. Her sharp teeth made absolutely short work of the burrito, licking the foil even once she was done. Jax made surprisingly little mess.

“Good!” She finally said aloud after so much quiet munching. “Good is! Warm hot mouth feel! Leaves in small small, but okay is.” She stuck her face into a bag of chips and sniffed. Fried foods were new to her.

Mercy glanced at the mirror and watched Jax enjoy what must have been her first burrito. He kept one hand on the wheel as he took the time to enjoy his own while he drove, managing to stay almost as neat in his consumption as his passenger. The city lights began to fade in the rear view mirror when trees rose in their stead.

After several more minutes passed he began to slow before coming to a gradual stop. Trees surrounded them and the road was narrow and quiet; almost eerie. In the near distance the faint pulse of the tower‘s light kissed the tops of the trees with every blink. Mercy glanced over his shoulder. “Is this close enough?”

She paused and looked behind her, blinking. “Keegan walk come? Jax woods trees know, safe is. Help human Keegan way find not trip fall!” If he consented, she would be true to her word, leading him carefully through the autumn underbrush. Even injured, she was sure footed, pointing out hidden stones and sudden dips in the forest floor to her human friend. After all, he couldn’t see so well in the dark.

“Jack old is?” Jax immediately padded over and crouched in front of him, brow creased in concentration. She reached out and felt around for the edge of his mask, clearly capable of plucking it off but not committing to doing so. “Not old act walk see. Big is strong is, straight bones straight back.” She grabbed one of his hands instead of his mask, holding it up to her face and inspecting it.

“How many earth years centuries word?”

Jack hadn’t bothered to look up as Jax approached, so the hand on his face came as more as a shock than she intended. He stopped everything and twisted his shoulders away. There was a steely silence as Jack let the kneejerk anger flow through him and fade. His hand lifted off the winch into hers without any resistance.

Jack was talking about mechanisms and tactics beyond Jax’s scope. She squinted. “Wires? Long metal thin is? Hmmm. Work might. But strong is, watch out!” She didn’t know if it could bite through metal…probably not. Hopefully not.

“How…Jack have many things weapon things?” She asked, eyeing all the crates with the sudden realization that most everything Jack owned was a killing implement.

Jack set a three-foot-tall machine on the ground. It was clearly handmade, with a metal frame containing a sideways winch and an oversized power source jerry rigged into it.

Jax gave tiny hoots of alarm when the car went too fast for her liking, but otherwise behaved herself. The drive-thru was intriguing—was there a human inside that little box Keegan spoke into? Why would they do that? Why was it so bright? What was a homewrecker?

The sheer wall of Good Smell entering the car along with all the bags erased all these questions. Her eyes bugged straight out of her skull at how much FOOD was inside all of them. She sniffed, threatening tears again at this generosity. “Not know what is but good smell, good! Thank Keegan money food buy!”

She puzzled out the foil burrito wrapper easily enough, holding it with surprising and comical delicacy as she bit into it. A noise of surprise and delight came out of her. Jax loved spicy foods, even though she didn’t know the word for it—lots of spices and heat, just the way food ought to be if you were going to cook it, because cooked food was special and for a special occasion. Her sharp teeth made absolutely short work of the burrito, licking the foil even once she was done. Jax made surprisingly little mess.

“Good!” She finally said aloud after so much quiet munching. “Good is! Warm hot mouth feel! Leaves in small small, but okay is.” She stuck her face into a bag of chips and sniffed. Fried foods were new to her.

Mercy glanced at the mirror and watched Jax enjoy what must have been her first burrito. He kept one hand on the wheel as he took the time to enjoy his own while he drove, managing to stay almost as neat in his consumption as his passenger. The city lights began to fade in the rear view mirror when trees rose in their stead.

Jax furrowed her brow, folding her hands against her chest as if she no longer wanted to touch any of the weapons in the room.

“Not…know,” she said slowly. “No tracks ground leave. Quiet quiet is, no sound make. So….not legs, probably not legs have.” She glanced at him out of the corners of her eyes. “Hard hunt is. Dangerous. Let hunted self be first. Easier let Thing you find. Then: one die one kill.”

“Yes–my thoughts as well. If I could bait it into a trap to keep it from escaping, that would be the ideal. If not legs, then…” He tilted his head back and sighed. “It must have some sort of mass. A torso. Can we not just pin it under the trees?”