Free Renegade Rupture by J. C. Fiske Page A

said.
    “Don’t just write me off! I’ve been waiting, preparing for this moment for as long as . . .” the Strife started, until Whip raised his voice and interupted him.
    “Well, why don’t you do it over there, ok? The adults are talking,” Whip said.
    “I’ll, I’ll,” the Strife started.
    “You’ll what?” Whip asked.
    The Strife, lacking anything better to say, walked away.
    “Weird guy,” Gisbo said.
    “He’s a Strife, what do you expect?” Whip said.
    “But, he really did just . . .” Gisbo started.
    “Read your mind?” Whip asked.
    “How did you . . . now you’re doing it too!?” Gisbo asked.
    “Gisbo, sometimes you’re a little slow, even for me,” Whip said.
    “I just need a beer,” Gisbo said. “Whip, thanks, I . . .”
    Gisbo froze, noticing something far away.
    “What is it? What’s wrong?” Whip asked.
    “Whip, you can sense things far more than anyone else I’ve known. Ever since last year, I’ve, it’s going to sound crazy, but I’ve had someone watching me and he gives me the shakes,” Gisbo said. “Act like nothing is out of the ordinary, but right now, he is standing at the side of Renegade Joe’s Steakhouse, just leaning against it. I see him, but nobody else seems to! Tell me, Whip. Do you sense anything over there?”
    Whip sat still and raised his nose to the wind and took in his surroundings.
    “Through the smells of beer, fresh grease spitting from the grill, seasonings, and somebody on the third table to the left of us belching up cigar residue, there is nothing over there, Gisbo,” Whip said. Gisbo turned, and once again, the Goat Man was gone.
    “Forget I said anything, he’s gone. I just . . . maybe I . . .” Gisbo started.
    “Maybe you need a beer? And maybe you need to buy your friend Whip one too since he forgot his wallet at home and has been waiting for some poor victim like you to come along?” Whip asked. Gisbo smiled.
    “I’m on it, pal,” Gisbo said. Gisbo raised his hand and bought two, tall, cold mugs of golden ale and placed them down.
    “Cheers, pal, to the rest of our lives,” Whip said. Gisbo clinked glasses and they chugged away at their beer. When Gisbo put his mug down, he looked out of the corner of his eye and saw the Goat Man return.
     

 
     
    Chapter Six: The Blond Swan
    The next day, Gisbo rolled out of bed with the sun shining in his tree house, alone except for his roommates’ Boons, who had all snuggled up on the top bunk with him. All except Fao, whose whining and scratching at not being able to climb like Jackobi’s fox, Chara, or Rolce’s eagle, Harpie, had woken Gisbo.
    “Aw, sorry, girl, I’ll be down in a . . . ah, DAMN IT, HARPIE!” Gisbo yelled at the eagle, who had nuzzled up in his neck and left three decent sized bird droppings all over his chest.
    “Get off me, you stupid bird!” Gisbo yelled as he flung the eagle off him. With a squawk of protest, Harpie fluttered down onto Rolce’s bed and Chara just looked up with twitching ears to see what all the commotion was about. Gisbo rolled off his bunk and once again grabbed Rolce’s pillowcase. He wiped the bird droppings onto it and thrust it back upside down.
    “Damn bird . . .” Gisbo mouthed under his breath as he scratched Fao behind the ears, and she followed him about the room as he made breakfast, got dressed, and sat down with a book.
    “No voices . . . none at all. Listen, Fao! None!” Gisbo smiled as he nuzzled his wolf’s face playfully. “Ah, now just to relax with a new book and . . .”
    There was a knock at the door, followed by the door opening a crack as Nina peeked her head in.
    “Can I come in?” Nina asked. Gisbo looked up, and suddenly, he felt a fierce pain in his stomach as Malik’s face seemed to flash all over her features.
    “Seems like you’re already halfway in. Might as well,” Gisbo said as he picked up his book and pretended to read. Nina came in and sat across from him on the couch, just looking at him,