Humayre: The Chronicles of Ronin Wilder

“Where’s the rope?” asked Kevin. He was at least fifteen feet off the ground.

“It’s hanging from the side of the hospital,” said Ronin. “I had to use it to get down.”

Mike and Grace both looked to Kevin with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t worry,” said Grace. “He made us jump too.”

Mike rubbed his hip. “Whatever you do don’t land on your side.”

“Great,” said Kevin. He inched forward until he was right at the edge of the branch. He scanned the snow covered earth. “Here goes nothing.”

“Wait!” shouted Ronin. He was too late. Kevin was already in the air. It was dark and Kevin didn’t see the branch five feet below him.

As Kevin fell, Ronin grit his teeth. It all happened in slow motion. First, Kevin’s foot caught the branch. His mouth opened wide. What must have been a curse word in some foreign tongue echoed through the pine trees. Next, his arms stretched out over his head. Somersaulting twice, Kevin’s eyes crossed and then closed. A thud sounded out as his hands hit the snow first, followed by his face. His feet somehow managed to kick the back of his own head. Mike, Grace and Ronin ran to where Kevin lay.

Mike picked up Kevin’s limp body and rolled him over on his back. Kevin’s face was covered in snow and slush. Ronin inspected Kevin’s face, nothing seemed to be missing. Kevin’s eyes fired open as he sat forward. Both Mike and Ronin jumped back.

“What happened? Where am I?” He looked at Mike, then at Grace. Kevin’s eyes found Ronin’s last.

“Oh my holy Hades,” said Kevin. “I am going to kill you.” He stood up but then fell back down into the snow.

Mike, Ronin and Grace all started to laugh. They looked around and quickly remembered how close they were to the hospital and quieted down.

Mike shook his head. His teeth glistened in the moonlight. The smile on his face was huge. “Bro! That was freaking insane!” Ronin and Grace had to subdue their laughter. “Bro. You flipped through the air like three times. And the face plant. Oh man that face plant was wicked. You landed that so good.” Mike held has massive fists in the air and opened both hands revealing ten fingers. “That was a perfect ten, bro.”

“Happy I’m here for your entertainment,” said Kevin. He looked to Ronin. An evil smile formed on his face. “I owe you for this one.” Resting his hand on his head, he tried to shake the cobwebs out.

“That was pretty funny though,” said Ronin. “You should’ve seen your face when you were falling. Definitely worth whatever torture you have planned for me.” He chuckled. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Kevin looked towards the hospital. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Good idea,” said Grace.

They grouped up and headed into the forest. Ronin was on point. The wind blowing at their backs precipitated Ronin to have to use the marking he had made on the pine trees to find their way back to BrightWood. Ten feet ahead of the group, Ronin was quiet and absorbed in his thoughts.

“So what happened?” asked Kevin. “What did you find out?”

Grace looked to Kevin and shook her head. Mike gave him a similar look.

“What?”

Ronin stopped and turned to the group. “Nothing,” he said. “There was nothing on my parents. This whole deal was for nothing.”

“Shoot,” said Kevin. “I’m sorry, man.”

The wind changed course. Instead of blowing west it blew north-west. It was just for second. But in that second Ronin caught a familiar smell. It was Ryan.

“Hold on.” Ronin raised his chin and closed his eyes. The wind changed back and the smell was gone.

“What was it?” asked Grace.

“I think I smelled Ryan.” Ronin headed south-west. As he passed his friends, he added, “Stay here. We don’t want to lose the trees I marked.”

Ronin got about hundred feet from his friends when he heard a noise. It sounded like a footstep in hard snow. It came from behind a pine tree just in front of him. He peeked around the corner. A dark flash fired towards his face. Ronin’s left cheek exploded in pain. His head flung backwards. The clouds were the last thing he saw before he blacked out.

“Ronin,” said a voice.

Ronin felt pressure on his chest. He opened his eyes. Mike’s big head was right above him.

Feeling below his left eye with his right hand, Ronin sat up. His cheek throbbed and he could barely see out of his left eye. “What happened?”

“I don’t know Bro. One minute I’m watching you walk behind a tree the next minute I see you laying on your back in the snow.”

Feeling under his eye, Ronin said, “I think someone hit me.”

Getting up off his knees, Mike said, “I didn’t see anyone.” He shook his head. “But Bro, if that’s what happened, we’re as good as caught.”

“I know,” said Ronin, rubbing his aching cheek. “And to make matters worse I think it might have been Ryan.” He picked himself up, grabbed a hand full of snow, and clumped into a ball. Pressing the snow ball to his eye, he added, “This is not good.”

Three hard knocks startled Ronin awake. He threw his covers off and headed for the door. As he passed Kevin’s bed he noticed his friend’s eyes. They looked as scared as Ronin was feeling. Three more knocks, even louder than before. They sounded serious. Kevin sat up. Gus put a pillow over his head. Kevin frantically motioned for Ronin to come over to him.

“One second,” said Ronin in a raised voice.

Ronin leaned close to Kevin.

“What if it’s Mr. Wetstone?” whispered Kevin. “I bet they found out. What do we do?” His eyes looked like they were about to burst from his head. “What if Ryan told them? What if someone else saw you?”

“Don’t worry,” said Ronin in a whisper. He knew who was at the door. The aftershave mixed with a specific body chemistry gave it away instantly. He wasn’t going to tell Kevin though. No need to freak him out before he even got the door open.

Glancing to his left, making sure Gus wasn’t listening, Ronin said, “No one saw you. If they figured out it was me at the hospital I will just tell them I did it alone.”

Three more Knocks. This time it sounded like the door might be clubbed down. Ronin nodded to Kevin and headed to the door. For some reason Ronin’s fear and nervousness disappeared, it was instead replaced with a sort of numbness. He opened the door. Mr. Wetstone stood tall before him with a stern expression.

“Come with me,” said Mr. Weststone. There was not an ounce of compassion in his voice.

Mr. Wetstone led Ronin through the stone halls and stopped at two huge wooden double doors. Ronin wondered why they were at the library.

“Follow me,” said Mr. Wetstone.

The library was Ronin’s second favorite place at the school. Although at that moment it might have been his least favorite. Wherever he was being led most likely would be a destination of despair. Mr. Wetstone motioned for Ronin to follow him. They hiked up the spiraling staircase. They passed the first floor, they passed the second floor. The third floor, or the maps floor, was the highest Ronin had been in the six story library. The staircase spiraled around the outer wall of the library and continued all the way to the top. More than a hundred thousand leather-bound books lined the dark wood bookcases, at least according to Gus. Each floor had its own cobblestone fireplace. Plush leather couches and chairs faced the fire places. The perfect atmosphere for reading, or taking a quick nap in between classes.

They passed the map’s floor. Mr. Wetstone’s pace was difficult to keep up with. They passed the fourth and fifth floor. The sixth floor. The top. Or what Ronin thought was the top. The sixth floor had no books or book cases. There was one fireplace in the corner. A couch and a table sat in front of it. The wood floors were covered with some kind of white fur rug. Ronin wondered if it was real, and if so how many poor animals they had to kill to make it.

“Hold on,” said Mr. Wetstone, as he pulled a key out of his pocket and stopped in front of a wooden wall.

The wall was nothing more than that. Ronin wondered what Mr. Wetstone was doing. Placing his hand on the wood Mr. Wetstone felt around until something stopped him. He put his key into the wall. He turned his wrist. A click sounded out. The outline of a door revealed itself in the wood. He opened the door and motioned for Ronin to follow. They walked up a set of stone stairs which led into a small room.

“This is my living quarters,” said Mr. Wetstone. He pointed to a leather chair in front of a leather-top desk. “Take a seat.”

The nervousness was back. Ronin glanced around the room trying to bury his fears. The room looked cozy. Candlelit sconces peppered the walls. A cobblestone fireplace in the corner heated the little room. The desk was messy with all sort of interesting things. A little black chest with ironwork trim sat at its left corner. Various colorful stones sat at the other corner. A stack of paperwork was at the center. Knives of all shapes and sizes littered the front of the desk. Pushed up against the back wall was another desk. The top was slanted in an angle. What looked like two large maps rested across its surface.

“A hobby of mine,” said Mr. Wetsone, obviously noticing Ronin staring at the knives.

Ronin nodded then continued to look around. Book cases lined the walls. But, instead of being filled with books, little statues lined the shelves. They looked old. Just above Ronin’s head was a loft. A small rod-iron spiraling staircase led up to it. From where Ronin sat he could just make out the edge of a bed.

Mr. Wetstone took a seat at his desk, and said, “The hospital was broken in to last night.”

Ronin’s heart jumped into his throat.

“I brought you up here because my office is not secure. Prying eyes and ears everywhere.”

Ronin held onto the silence. He had nothing to say.

“Two guards were seriously injured,” said Wetstone. “They have no idea who their assailant or assailants were. Apparently they were both struck from behind.”

Wait a second. Ronin didn’t do anything to anyone. He wanted to speak out but remembered he hadn’t been accused yet.

“You look surprised,” said Mr. Wetstone. He raised an eyebrow. “Do you know anything about this?”

Relief washed over Ronin like warm rays of sunlight on a winters’ morning. They didn’t know he was the one who broke in. He wanted to exhale and slump down into his seat but didn’t want to give himself away.

“No sir,” said Ronin. “Just shocked to hear someone was hurt.” He hated to lie, but for this occasion it was a necessity, it wasn’t just him that might get expelled. “Will they be okay?”

“Yes. But this is not why I brought you up here.”

Ronin squinted in confusion.

“The records room was robbed. A drawer with your file was left open. Your records were the only ones missing.”

“My records?” blurted Ronin.

“Yes and we don’t know why. But we are trying to figure it out. Our investigation has revealed little. After the robbery we got about two inches of snow. So tracking them was out of the question. All we know is they used a rope to get on to the roof. This is how they entered the building. We are still not sure how they got the rope up there in the first place. We also discovered damage to the north main-gate. So we are guessing that’s how they got inside the property.” He paused. “All of that is beside the point. Whoever broke into the hospital hurt two people pretty badly. Bottom line. Someone dangerous has a significant interest in you. From here on out you are going to need to be extra careful. Don’t go anywhere without friends. And don’t go hanging out in isolated areas by yourself.”

Ronin nodded. A dreadful thought came to him. What if it was Ryan? The idea scared him. If that was the case, then the guy was a true psycho. He looked for something to get his mind off Ryan. The table with the maps caught his eye. He wondered what was on them.

Mr. Wetstone stood up. “Wait here for a moment. I’ll be right back.” He made his way out of the room, the sound of the secret door closing echoed through the stone walls.

Anxiousness drove Ronin’s knee up and down in a frenzied jitter. He glanced around as he fiddled with his index claw. The slanted table kept drawing his attention. He looked back to the stairway and focused. No noise, at least nothing that was close. He fired up out of his chair and headed for the desk. Two maps, just like he thought.

One map was of BrightWood property and the surrounding areas. The other was of the entire U.S. The distance from BrightWood to the hospital didn’t look right. He searched for a map key. Two inches per mile. He pinched his fingers together and lined it up on the map. Ahh. That made more sense. Just east of BrightWood was a town and even further east from that was what looked like a city. Something caught his eye. He leaned in closer. Two crossing swords marked in red. Just like the ones on his fathers’ pendant. Below the swords was a name written in red. It said O’Sheas Pub.

O’Sheas pub, the name sounded familiar. And then it hit him. It was the pub Mr. Wetsone had told him about that fateful day when he took the letter from Ronin. O’Sheas Pub, he said it over in over in his mind so he wouldn’t forget the name. Footsteps caught his hear. They were faint but slowly increasing in volume. Someone was coming. He turned from the table and headed back to his chair. As he passed the desk a little black chest intrigued him to stop. It was partially opened. Just inside Ronin could see what looked like Ryan’s letter. Glancing at the entryway and then to the chest Ronin ran around the desk and flipped open the box. Right there before his eyes lay the letter. He reached down to grab it but the sound of a key turning inside a lock froze him. He closed the chest and hurried to his seat. Just as he sat, in walked Mr. Wetstone.

The journey back to Ronin’s room was exhilarating, even though he was unable to secure the letter. Everything caught his eye in a new light. It was as though he were given a fresh lease on life. Before he knew it, he found himself in the memorial room. Out of habit he searched for the empty space on the wall where his parent’s memorial once was. Standing in front of the vacant space he vowed to find out the truth. Normally the barren stone served as a depressing reminder, but not anymore. The fire inside of him had returned. Anything was possible now, as far as he was concerned. Not only was he going to find a way to clear his parents name, he was going to find a way to pass his classes and remain at BrightWood. He was certain of it.

Ryan. The scent of oily hair Spun Ronin around. Not fifteen feet away was Ryan stealthily making his way towards him. The claws on all ten of his fingers inadvertently extended.

“You’ve been a busy little bee,” said Ryan. He stopped about five feet from Ronin and pulled out a large envelope from inside his coat.

Ronin stepped back and glanced around the room hoping he wasn’t alone. He was.

“Thank you by the way,” said Ryan. The grin on his face was sickening.

“For what?” snapped Ronin.

“For leaving the rope. I wouldn’t have been able to get on the roof without it.” Ryan laughed.

“It was you!” Stepping forward, Ronin’s first instinct was to slap the smile off Ryan’s face. The bruise under his eye throbbed, reminding him how angry he was. Now he wanted to do more than slap him.

“Woah,” said Ryan. He held his hands up in a defensive position. “Take it easy now. Let’s not do anything we might regret. After all. We wouldn’t want Mr. Wetstone to get involved.” He dangled the envelope in the air. “Wouldn’t want this falling into his hands.”

“You hurt those people,” said Ronin, half asking and half accusing.

“A means to an end.” Ryan opened the letter, pulled out what looked like a photograph and held it out.

Ronin took the photograph. It was a picture of him scaling the wall of the hospital. His heart dropped. The color flushed from his face as he looked to Ryan.

“Now I have your attention.” Ryan opened the envelope and showed the inside to Ronin. There were at least ten more pictures. He pulled one out and held in front of Ronin’s face. It was photo of his records. “So, this is how it’s going to work. You are going to use your cat burglar skills to sneak into Mr. Wetstone’s office and steal back my letter.” He laughed. “Cat burglar.” He shook his head obviously amused with himself. “You like how I did that? You know. Because you have claws like a cat.” Scowling, he shook his head. “Filthy beasts. I can’t imagine you are much different.”

It didn’t amuse Ronin in the least. He stood still, glaring at the idiot before him.

“Anyway. You will get me that letter or I will anonymously send these pictures and your records to Mr. Wetstone with a letter stating that the records were found in your room.” He stuffed the envelope back inside his pocket. “You know what the best part is? You won’t just be kicked out of school. You will also be tried for treason. I’m sure you didn’t know that though. Most Freshys don’t read the fine print on their contracts.” He chuckled.

A student walked into the memorial, glanced in Ronin’s and Ryan’s direction and continued on course to the next room.

“Why can’t you just do it yourself?” asked Ronin. More so than anything else Ronin was just trying to figure out what connection Ryan had to the letter. And why he would go through such extreme troubles to get it back. He knew he had no choice and would have to do Ryan’s bidding. The thing Ryan didn’t know was that Ronin had already planned to take the letter back.

“I can’t be seen anywhere near that letter,” said Ryan. He stopped himself. His cheeks reddened. A scowl contorted his face. “It’s none of your damn business. You get that letter or your life is over. You got that? You have a week to figure it out. If I don’t have that letter in my hands within a week, you are done.”