Saving Grandpa pt 4- Grandpa

Zinc bellows. I fall and knock over shelves of metal tools. They clang, answering his shout. The azure glow is gone, but the lighting retains a fuzzy, surreal sparkle as if shadows have gone rogue.

Zinc’s dark eyes flick to me. I probably look like a lunatic, gaping at him, cow skull atop my messy hair, eyes and apron a pale green I have yet to see elsewhere in this dimension.

“Did you just kiss me?”

I scramble to my feet, chin held high. “Our grandson brought me here to rescue you.”

“I’ve never met you.”

That comment is so blunt, it’s sharp, and I wince. “You were trapped in stasis, and he said the only way to free you was to kiss you.”

Zinc raises one dead-grass-colored eyebrow. “You only had to touch me.”

Of course. Juan will meet my wrath via the biggest sandal I can find.

I turn, but my grandson is gone. The guard fills the doorway. A snarl twists his face as his bloodshot eyes zero in on Zinc.

Trident raised, Snarly charges, and I drop. He sails over me, weapon aimed at Zinc’s heart. A scream wells in my throat.

Zinc ducks, and the trident’s prongs skim his grassy hair as his weight glides from one foot to the other. His hands brush the floor and scoop up two fist-sized rings. As he curves around Snarly’s back, lightning covers those hoops and trails his movements. He punches them against the guard’s spine. Snarly stiffens and falls to the floor like a plank.

A burning smell fills the air as distant hollers grow louder. More guards pour down the stairs, bursting from the arch, and Zinc spins to face them.

I remain on the floor, wide-eyed. The shredded strips on the back of the downed man’s suit are a darker shade of scarlet than the rest. Is that blood? Steam rises from him, but dust swirls away from his mouth. He’s breathing. He’s alive.

Where is Juan? Is there something else he has to take care of? Did he see these guys coming and flee? Is he planning a counter attack?

I did not come all the way here to “save Grandpa” by gaping on the floor like a beached fish. I didn’t come here to watch a horde of red-eyed, twisted-face goons trample the guy I’m supposed to save. They kick at him, slash and stab with so many weapons I can’t even begin to name, but he keeps moving. He is the lightning that trails his fists, untouchable.

He doesn’t need me.

A club sweeps Zinc’s knees out from under him, and he goes down rolling, rings held above his head so as not to shock his own core. The guards close in, a million pointy things glinting.

On my feet, I pull off one shoe and hurl it into the horde. It smacks the back of a bald head, and the guard swivels with a growl. His crimson-streaked eyes cut to me.

Somersaulting, Zinc throws me a look that simultaneously says, “That was stupid,” and, “You’re brilliant.”

Baldy lunges, and I backpedal. My legs tangle in a pile of long-handled tools congregated in the corner. Something sharp scrapes my ankle, and I glance down.

An ax!

I grab its handle, but it’s too heavy and too entwined with the other tools. Baldy’s spear races at me, and I shift the ax handle just enough to block it. The blow sends the whole pile into a noisy cascade with me in the middle of it.

A mop falls across my chest. As the spear careens down again, I grab the familiar tool and knock the thrust aside. Baldy staggers, and I kick at his shins, then slide to my feet and high-step over the other handles.

I have never been so delighted to see a mop.

I try to dart around him, but Baldy attacks again. I wield my trusty sidekick like a bow-staff, stance wide. The spear jabs at my nose and stops short as the wooden handles of our weapons clank together. Teeth bared, Baldy pushes, and I skid back lopsided, footing unbalanced with only one shoe.

My rear knocks against one of the shelving units. The case tilts, gaining speed. It crashes into another and sends that one into a pair of Zinc’s opponents. I only have time for a quick glance, but a grin stretches across my face. Did my clumsy butt actually do something useful?

Baldy strikes, and I duck. With all my weight and momentum, I swing the mop at his side.

No effect. He doesn’t even flinch, and my smirk vanishes.

I thrust the mop’s stiff tendrils at Baldy’s face. A flash pulses behind him, and he falls, revealing Zinc in a low fighting stance, lightning rings held at chest level. He’s sweaty and bleeding, and he stares at me.

He and I are the only ones standing.

I still look like a lunatic. The skull helmet fell off at some point, and my hair reigns so wild even I can see it wafting in my peripherals. Plus, I’m still gaping at him.

“What are you?”

How am I supposed to answer that? I’m a girl? A klutz? An inventor? A pet store clerk and a whiz with a mop. In another timeline, I was your sweetheart, and we grew into a crazy old couple.

“I’m human,” I say instead.

“Your eyes sing the song of the land.”

I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but it sounds poetic. I play it cool, chuckling as I lower my mop and lean on it. “Maybe the land sings the song of my eyes.”

“The land has been singing that song for longer than your eyes have been around.” His chin tilts, and his obsidian stare bores into me.

I stand my ground, wispy hair flying as I shake my head. “Not to me. I’ve had my eyes for longer than I’ve known this land existed.”

He quirks an eyebrow. A smile tries to spread his lips, but he keeps them tight and his dark, ticking gaze narrow. “I don’t know you, but I feel I should. What’s your name?”

“Gabriela Martini, and you’re Zinc Alta. I came to rescue you, so with that out of the way…now what?” I spin. “Juan, seriously, now what?”

Zinc steps back. “You’re with Juan?” The lightning rings brighten as he grips them tighter.

“Our grandson,” I explain, and he looks at me like I’m crazy. “Like I said, we came to rescue you—”

“Now Zinc, what have I told you about maltreating my zombies?” The familiar voice comes from behind, and I whirl. The speaker stands in the doorway, surrounded by more guards.

My idiot grandson neglected to mention that the tyrant we have to save this world from is none other than my Juan.

Continued in pt 5- Letting Go

Thanks for reading!