The contraption was huge, made from several pieces here and there and it looked like something that a seven year old boy interested in electronics would make. Max stood back and admired what he had created, wondering why the idea hadn't come to him sooner. All he needed to do now was produce a tiny amount of electricity to make it work.
"How is it supposed to work?" Nestor inquired.
"We need a small power supply," Max replied.
"As if that is going to happen anytime soon," Womack interjected. She also muttered, "Power's been out for a while, you moron."
Franklin shot her a look and Womack cracked a sad little smile and shrugged her shoulders. A sort of what-the-hell-am-I-supposed-to-do-couped-up-in-here-with-an-idiot expression.
Max looked around the bunker and then he said with strict confidence, "Round up electrical extensions, and see if you can find some alligator clips and..."
His hand slammed down on the radio, trying to get the signal in clearer. "You heard it, right?" Max asked the others. "Tell me you heard that!" Franklin stood over the radio and glanced at Peters, Nestor and Womack, who were sitting at the kitchen table. All of them exchanging looks as if their intrepid leader had gone insane. Max's attention went back to the old radio, his head pressed against the speaker. To Franklin and the others the radio was unplugged and broken, covered in layers of dust and cobwebs. It couldn't work since there was no electrical current running through it. "He's losing it," Womack said in a hushed tone. She unhitched her holster. "One more crack like that out of him and he'll blow our hiding space." "We got to do something," Peters said. "We've been hiding now for weeks and it's not getting any better." The five of them had been holed up for a while now, itching to get back into the fight. But under orders they were told to hold up in this abandoned shack until a sentry returned to get them. "This is damn maddening," Womack said. Her long silver hair was radiant in the candle-light; she was beautiful at her age. She looked like a war-hardened Helen Mirren, and maybe, just maybe, Nestor thought, she was. In the other room, Franklin stood over Max. He hated to see him go through bouts like this. Every now and then the 'crazy' would seep in and Max was off in his own world. But these days it had been getting longer and longer. Franklin didn't like the idea of putting a bullet in his head...
"And now the character that always reminded me of the Professor is actually undercover as a professor... Oh, and their new base of operations is a subway!" Angst said. "That's cool," Goner said. "No," Suki frowned. "It means reality is ripping us off." Angst smirked. Aqua said, "I think it's more synchronicites, like Max talks about. It was like watching all the stuff with Sam and Dean and Castiel and Crowley and how much it was like when we learned about the version of Maggie that's Magriel and Lucy and all that stuff." Frank's voice came in over the comm, "Tangos incoming. Keep it down or you're going to get our show cancelled."
"So what time does the portal open?" Max shouted over the sound of gunfire. "In approximately seven to ten minutes," the Professor's voice replied on the earbud. "And when does the bomb go off?" Mags shouted as the bullets chewed up the edges of their cover. "In approximately seven to ten minutes," the Professor said. Max and Maggie looked at each other, shaking their heads and smiling.
Max nestled his head in the pillow as Mags reached over and switched off the bedside lamp. "Night sweetie," she said.
Max murmured back to her and felt sleep drag him down quick.
He opened his eyes and was inside a tent, dawn light faint through the fabric, the smell of gunpowder and trees, howls and shouts getting closer.
Max ran through a mantra designed to confirm that he wasn't dreaming. Checked his chronometer; it had only been seven minutes since he had gotten into bed.
"Yes we will!" Angst shouted, finishing her cheer and spraying bullets from her twin uzis into the swarm of spectres that surrounded them. Max felt a sharp impact in his side and suddenly his t-shirt was soaked with blood. Maggie dodged under a swipe from one of the shadowy claws and her katana flashed upwards in a counterstrike. Max winced as a gash appeared on his bicep. Angst kept spinning and firing and another hole tore open in Max's leg. Maggie straightened out of a combat role, growling, and thrust into another demon. Max grunted as a wound punctured his shoulder. "Dammit," he whispered as he dropped to one knee. Maggie saw him go down and noticed the injuries that had appeared on his body. "Defense only, Angst!" she shouted. "We're in a Hex Warp!"
"It's been going on six days straight," Summer sighed. A gust of wind made the steady downpour bend to a 45 degree angle, then it returned to falling straight down. Aqua watched water drip from the brim of her cowboy hat. Summer shivered. "Isn't there something we could do? Maybe that's why we are here, to figure out how to make it stop? Isn't that how this works?" Aqua watched the crowds of miserable people scurrying in the heavy rain. She said, "I think I saw an umbrella store a few blocks from here, yesterday. Based on the signs in the window it looked like they had raised their prices a few days back. Bet they don't have much of a security system..." Aqua winked and Summer smiled.
... and finally moving beyond or is it within to the place where the Kami dwell which is only really the world without deception where Valhalla is only the present without fear and the wingbeats of the valkyrie only the passing of the present into the past to make room for the future, the skull a shrine, the spine is Yggdrasil, or the reverse and the reverse, here where the truth happens and the layers upon layers of confusion and delusion and history and fragments and iterations no longer obscure and obfuscate but are simple cartography, the sword and pen and tongue and thought, the runes and circle and words a map to find his way... ... and would he not then divine the route home? who would not after so many worlds and centuries and battles seek the safety and the surety and certainty and the continuity of home? who would not ask that gift from the Aesir and would they not grant it to one so deserving? ... when the time and a chance to make magic, real magic happens is this not the spell Akimoto should be casting? ... yet Maggie is still sick, and Max is still trapped, and his companions still stand watch, ready for the next battle... [he has the sense of deja vu, the feeling of remembering the feeling of a dream, and so he knows that the magic is working] Akimoto says the names of Freyr and Freyja and the names of the runes and draws his blade across his palm to make blood. But he does not do so for himself.
