Volume One: The Road Out
Chapter Three
Verse Two: One Hero's MacGuffin
Marion and Harley
sprinted around the corner of the yard away from the old woman
yelling and the now aware Men of Black and White that had already
surrounded their aging van. Passing into the shadow of the creaking
old house, Harley's eye's were caught off guard by the sudden change
in light and he collided head on into something roughly ahead shorter
than him and both he and the unknown thing went sprawling. Harley
shook his head to clear the haze from the impact and heard voices as
his eyes adjusted to the shade of the new surroundings.
"Fitz! Are you
all right? Mr. Dreamer! Oh my gosh! Fitz we've found them! We're
safe!"
Harley's vision
cleared and he saw a young girl who looked like she was twelve years
old or younger, and boy in his early teens- whom Harley suspected he
had just ricocheted off at both groups rounded the corner. A sudden
shocked awareness spread over Harley and he looked to Marion in
shock. Marion nodded, the look on face was the look of man who had
just discovered that somebody had ordered strippers for his twelve
year daughter's birthday party.
"These are the
kids, aren't they?" Harley said.
"These are
Maia and Fitzroy. Marion said, still nodding like a bobble-head toy,
"These are definitely them. There is clearly somebody writing
this story we're in. And clearly, he's a hack."
Maia and Fitzroy
stared at Marion and then at Harley. Fitzroy looked bewildered and
Maia wore an unmistakable expression of sheer joy. "I told you
Fitz! I told you the Dreamwalker would help us! That's what the
stories said, and here they are. And now we don't have to walk the
Witch Road alone."
"And they look
just as lost and desperate as we do. I don't know that this helps."
Marion looked at
Harley, "I don't think the agents were here for us."
Harley looked
behind them at the agents approaching rapidly and then over the
children's shoulders at the agents approaching rapidly from that
direction. Harley grabbed Maia by the hand.
"That's right,
here we are. Run for your life." Harley said pleasantly.
And then he took
off to their left, with Maia struggling to keep up and Marion and
Fitzroy charging along behind them. They spun around the the front of
the building and saw more figures in suits and sunglasses.
"Okay, running
in a different direction then." Harley said and he grabbed Maia
and Fitzroy each by the wrist and dragged them back into the shadow
of the house before, hopefully, the agents spotted them. Marion hung
in the open for a moment longer than Harley would have liked before
noticing and following Harley's lead. Harley quickly climbed over the
white picket fence in to the yard of the woman who had called them
out and, Marion and the children scrambling after him, Harley nestled
himself into the cover of a line of well tended globe cedar shrubs
and waited. Footsteps passed them by twice, coming from both
directions, and then silence. Harley could hear all four of them
breathing, and he prayed nobody else could. Time passed, and Harley
was unsure how much, the adrenaline had dilated his perception of
time. Harley's brain was convinced it could walk to Bangladesh and
back in the space contained within a second. Harley wasn't listening
to his brain, because he knew the chemicals pulsing through his brain
right now were rendering it entirely unreasonable, and so he just sat
in silence and waited, trying to bring himself back to a state where
practicality could retain control of his decision making process. And
then, once more, a women's voice shattered the quiet.
"What are you
doing in my garden? First you hide in the empty lot and now my
garden. What are scruffy ruffians doing here? And who are these
children. Oh. Oh!"
"Never lucky.
Never lucky. Never lucky." Marion said in dejected tones as the
women spoke.
"You're those
kidnapped children." The woman said in a warbling lilting voice,
"And you're the boys wanted in connection with the kidnapping."
"No, no, no,"
Maia said quickly, "We weren't kidnapped, we ran away. Our dad
is a really bad man, he had my mom killed. He had her killed. he had
her shoved her in a fridge. Why would somebody do that? And they
aren't kidnapping us at all. They're saving us. We called them,
because he," She pointed at Marion, "Was nice to us when we
were visiting his book store, and I didn't know who else to call. Who
do you call for help when your Dad has your Mom killed and he can buy
the police and stuff?"
The woman turned
pale, "Oh dear me, are you serious?"
Fitzroy broke in,
"She's very serious, Maia's always serious, she doesn't lie,
even when she should. We're in a lot of trouble, we probably can't
get out of it. You shouldn't help us, because then you'll be in a lot
of trouble too. But it would mean a lot if you helped us anyway,
because otherwise we have no hope at all. Please."
"Oh dear me,
you poor dears. Of course I'll help you. I am eighty five years old,
what can anyone do to me that time hasn't done? Get in my house you
poor things. Right now."
Marion shook his
head in shock, "Was that the universe giving us good luck?"
"These are
kids." Harley said, "Weren't you the one who said we needed
to follow the story. This is their story isn't it? Not ours. We get
to be Obi-Won Kenobi. I think they're the heroes."
As they spoke, the
woman ushered them into the tiny little one storey war house and
closed the door. She locked four deadbolts on the door as she shut it
and then wiped her hands in satisfaction.
"Now then, I
am Mrs. Boots. Retiree, busybody, gardener, reader of tea leaves and
scary lady that everyone says is a witch."
Mrs. Boots was
surrounded by cats in a way that made Marion think of Mrs. Trilby.
Mrs. Boots was an enormous woman however and leaned on two sturdy
black canes for support. The effect of the canes and the multitude of
cats was to make it look as though the Cats leaning into Mrs. Boots
were holding the woman upright.
Mrs. Boots
continues, "You too are the children of that business man, whom
you have said had your mother killed. Which is awful on the level of
raising taxes in Sherwood Forest and Performing Shakespeare to
dubstep by the way. But who are you two?"
Harley shook his
had, "Two guys that fate decided to throw to the wolves. As Maia
said, my friend Marion was present for an altercation between their
parents at his job. Then he got fired and those guys in the suits
have been chasing us, and I think they've been chasing the kids too,
yes?" Harley looked at Fitzroy for confirmation, and the boy
nodded.
Mrs. Boots raised
an eyebrow, and a look of recognition crossed her face. "Well
then you need help if the official authorities are against you, yes?
What can I do?"
"You believe
us?" Marion asked in shock, "Not that I don't, or I guess
that we don't appreciate it, but unsolicited help hasn't been really
common since this started and it kind of feels weird."
"Yes, I
believe you. You aren't dreaming. I really will help. What can I do?
I'm suspecting that you need to get out of town, and you didn't walk
in now did you?"
Harley raised an
eyebrow as she talked, listening to her word use.
Maia answered Mrs.
Boots, "We hitchhiked," and then Maia added, "Do you
know the Witch Doctor?"
Mrs. Boots raised
her eyebrows and clicked her tongue and gave Marion and Harley a
questioning look. Then after a moment, she shook her head and said,
"So, not yet? Well that explains some things. But that's who you
children arrived, what about you too young men?"
"We drove but
the guys in suits have our van surrounded," Marion said.
"Then you need
a distraction. I can help with that."
Harley shook his
head, "Alone? There are a lot of them."
Mrs. Boots shook
her head, "I never do anything alone. I need a little yin to my
yang. I'm going to call my girlfriend and we'll keep those boys in
monkey suits busier than a fox in a hen house filled with bear
traps."
"That is
mental image that make me happier than it should." Marion said.
"All right.
I'm going to make a phone call in a minute and then make a lot of
noise. That's your signal to run for your little goblin."
"Wait a
minute," Harley said, but Mrs. Boots cut him off.
"We don't have
a minute, those boys in black and white will start searching houses
pretty quick and you don't have time. Just run for your car and let
fate take care of the rest. I suspect you four are on a quest, which
means you have to trust the path. But fate always sends guides,
mentors, so watch for them: your very own Alec Guinness in wizard
robes, you have to find his sanctuary, his temple, his
monastery.These things are normally in hidden valleys, deep dark
forests, barren deserts or on isolated mountain tops. Trust the dream
and and walk the path. Now, out my back door, I'll be using my front
door for the distraction. Get ready." Mrs. Boots shooed them to
the back door as she picked up her phone and began dialling.
As the four made
their way tot he back door, Harley heard Mrs. Boots began talking to
whoever was on the other line, "Hello old boy, Yes it's me. No
time Mercer dear, I'm glad your feeling better, but I need some
assistance so get everyone ready."
Marion opened the
back door and the four of them crept to the fence and peered over it
to the goblin. Two men in suits stood watch.
"That's
yours?" Fitzroy asked in concern, "Because it looks old. It
looks like it could die on the highway and nobody would notice,
because it's so old."
"It is old,
but it's tough and easy to repair." Harley answered a little
more defensively than he would have liked, "The goblin is what
we have right now, and you can trust him. He's noisy but dependable."
"Mrs. Boots
called him the goblin, didn't she? How did she know that, and she
talked like knew more things like that and other stuff."
"Yes, she did.
And I don't know." Harley answered.
"Everyone
seems to know more than we do." Marion added.
"What are you
doing over there?" Mrs. Boots voice cried from the front yard,
full of horror and outrage, "You let her go! She's just a little
girl!" Her voice rose with each word.
"Time to run
again," Harley said as the two remaining agents ran in the
direction of Mrs. Boots' voice.
They charged the
Goblin and scrambled in.
"Seat belts."
Marion added as Harley slammed the key into the ignition and started
the van. Harley put the goblin into reverse and headed back out of
town the way they came.
"What's the
plan oh mighty sane one?" Marion asked.
"Get back onto
the highway, and head in any direction other than what we were
heading in previously and figure it out from there."
"Sounds good."
As they drove out
of town the streets seemed clear, the search for them seemed to
currently be confined to southern half of town, presumably on the
assumption that they need the amenities and supplies available there.
But as they drove a dark shape caught Marion's eye and he turned to
see a shadow thing flit between the shadows cast by the houses. It
looked vaguely canine, but Marion couldn't see it clearly.
"Doesn't
anyone else see that thing?" Marion asked pointing.
Harley didn't look,
focusing on driving, but both kids looked and Maia quickly nodded and
looked worriedly at Marion.
"It looks like
a dog, but like shadows."
From the shadows at
the side of the road came a howl that echoed as though the thing had
howled into a pipe organ. Harley pushed the gas pedal down and
brought the goblin up to highway speed, racing along abandoned suburb
streets. The goblin's engine and tires expressed their outrage as
Harley calmly manhandled the vehicle to the highway. Harley brought
the goblin on the highway like a torpedo and then shifted wheel and
slammed the brakes, spinning the goblin ninety degrees into the
southbound lane and accelerated again. The howl sounded again, but
more distant.
"Did you see
it Harley?" Marion asked.
"No, I was
driving, but everything I have dealt with so far has been human
looking. What you described sounds like the story raising the stakes
again, so the reasonable thing is to take it seriously. Find me a
place where we can change direction, east or west, I don't care."
Marion nodded and
began scanning the map.
Harley adjusted the
rear view mirror to look at the children, "Okay. Marion's met
you I think. I just want to confirm something, you two are actually
Maia and Fitzroy Salt. Right?"
Fitzroy shook his
head, "No. Because a last name would mean family. Because we've
lost our family, because family doesn't do the stuff that ours did.
Father said we chose exile instead of the family business. But that's
because the family business is evil."
"Okay, I'm
hearing you two talking like you know more than me and more than
Marion. So bring us up to speed on what we're into here. We're
listening."
Maia spoke, "I've
been having dreams and stuff about bad things and future things. Mom
kept having bad things happen to her in the dreams and it was always
his fault and those men in the sunglasses and suits were always there
and there was a big black snake and I couldn't stop the dreams and I
couldn't stop it from happening here either."
"Breathe,"
Marion said, "We have time. You don't have to rush."
Fitzroy took over,
"Maia started have conversations with somebody who called
himself the Witch Doctor. I couldn't see him, because this happened
in her visions. It was hard to believe, because I couldn't see it.
But the Witch Doctor phoned us on my phone and Maia recognized his
voice."
"He told us to
grab our mom and run and he told he told us to do it right away and
we didn't and then Mom got killed and if we'd listened and if we'd
listened." Maia broke down into body wracking sobs and Fitzroy
wrapped an arm awkwardly around his sister.
"None of this
makes sense. We didn't run, because this is all insane. We're
probably going to die, because how do you fight this craziness? But
we aren't going to die without a fight, because whoever they are,
they killed our mother."
"That is some
seriously tragic heroic back story right there."
"We're not
heroes. We're victims."
Harley shook his
head, "Not if it's your story. The one constant that that Marion
and I keep hearing from everyone who knows more than we do is that
this is a story somehow. Not that it will make a good story, but that
this is somehow a story in the big mythic sense. And everyone seems
to want this to be their story. If it's your story, you aren't
victims. If it's your story, your heroes with a tragic backstory."
"How do we
now?"
Marion twisted in
the seat to look back at the children, "I don't think anyone can
say for sure, but in general the hero is determined by who tells the
story. So let's be storytellers shall we?"
"Do you know
what's scary?" Marion said, "I prefer this to our normal
lives."
"I don't hear
you." Harley said, "Why on earth would you prefer this?"
"We hated our
normal lives. They give you until about five years old. And then they
lock in a class room, send you to the salt mines and stuff you in a
retirement home. Nose to the grindstone work until you're no use to
the empire anymore. We hated it. You hated it. I hated it. The fact
that we accept this as normally is insane."
"It is
normal."
"You know it's
only normal because everyone agrees it is. If this was all really
normal we wouldn't be causing global warming or overpopulation or
mass extinction or destroying the coral reefs or all the other
horrible things that we do just by carrying on living in this way and
calling it normal."
"The correct
term is climate change."
"Not the
point. If all this was actually normal, people would be happy- they
wouldn't pray to lottery tickets and medicate with caffeine and
prescription drugs. I'm happier now, on the run with people shooting
at me and supernatural dogs and creepy agents chasing me than I ever
was when things were normal. Or are you missing your day job?"
"I don't miss
my day job."
"So let's
embrace the weird."
"We could die
you know. That's a little more weird than I want from my life."
"So, death is
the only thing we all get to do."
"Everyone
can't walk away from the normal or civilization will collapse."
"Didn't I tell
you? I had a vision where everything collapsed anyway? For all we
know it collapsed because of the normal."
Harley's cell phone
rang.
"Marion can
you grab that? I'm driving."
Marion reached into
Harley's jacket pocket and produced the phone.
"Hi, this
isn't Harley." Marion said.
"I know
Dreamer, you cannot deceive me." The voice on the other end
said.
"Hi. I'm
definitely not trying to deceive you, whoever you are. If I was
trying to deceive you I'd be telling you that I was Simon Templar or
James Bond or something clever like that. Besides, I don't know who
you are, so why would I try to deceive you?"
"Because
deception might prolong your time in the role of Dreamer. Because if
I capture you, your continued survival comes heavily into question."
"Right, so
you're ramping up the creepy. I get that. But I've fought giant
snakes covered in oil like they've escaped from a Captain Planet
episode. I fought cannibal ghosts and mystic secret agents. Why
should I be afraid of you?"
"Because I can
see the trail of disorder, the scar upon the story that you four
leave as you flee. You cannot hide from me. I will simply follow the
damage until I find you. I will march behind you, until I can cleanse
your infection from my perfect narrative."
"Who are you?"
"Call me the
Bone Man. Nothing more is necessary. Do you hear that howl?"
"Yes."
"The hound is
hunting for you. The hound is older and stronger than I am. Older and
deadlier than my men, than my King. He does not answer to the Grey as
Falsenight does. For centuries the Grey has kept him on a leash. I
say, he but gender is irrelevant. The hound is not a thing. The hound
is a concept, and it is inescapable. It can smell the children, smell
their fear. You have one chance to avoid it. And as it turns out, you
have the same one chance to avoid dying by my hand. Give the children
to us. They are still children in this world, still young and
physically immature. You are grown young men and could easily over
power them. The vehicle is yours. Turn the vehicle around and drive
it back into the hamlet you have just left. Give us the children and
all the unpleasant things that have happened to you will stop. You
will not be on wanted posters or the evening news. You will have your
lives back. Just accept that you are playing a game that you cannot
win. Accept that you are out of your depth. Accept defeat with
dignity and you can preserve both your dignity and your continued
existence."
The kids stared at
Marion and Harley. The only sound was the sound of the engine and
wheel on the road. Harley reached across and took the phone, turning
off the speaker option.
"You didn't
give Marion visions. Did you?"
"I can do many
many things Walker."
"Yes, you can.
But I didn't hear you say that you gave Marion those visions. You
didn't. Or you would have said so. You aren't the only player in this
game. And we are fighting alone. You're right, we haven't heard the
whole story, and we are out of our depth. But you should listen
closely, because this is important. You didn't take our lives away.
This game took our lives away when didn't listen to it's warnings. So
you can't give us our lives back. You want them, come and get them."
"I intend to
Walker. Just recall that this was your decision."
"Just keep
telling yourself that. There are too many forces shaping this for
that to be true."
