Volume One: The Road Out
Chapter Three
Verse Three: The Purity of the
Bone Man
The Bone Man
continued speaking to Harley, "You are not hard to find and not
hard to follow. The events of the story are well known. And, of
course, you have few places that you can run to at the moment."
"We seem to be
managing. And if the story is so well known, how can you stop us?
Doesn't the story need to be told?"
"The story
needs to be told, but the actors can change. And the story has
branches. Our story has the narrative for ten thousand years, the
story that you are fighting for does not have a favourable track
record."
"I guess
that's our job to change then, isn't it?"
"Is that
optimism, or false bravado intended to fool me?"
"It's more
like an appraisal of the situation. If I heard you correctly, the
band I'm playing for hasn't had gigs for a while so I have to change
things."
The Bone Man
chuckled, a sound like dice rattling in a cup.
"Good Luck. I
am coming, and will be here soon."
The line went dead
and Harley silently handed the phone to Marion.
"We're in
worse trouble than before you know." Harley said as he drove.
His voice remained calm and reasonable and he didn't take his eyes
off the road as he spoke. Marion did notice that Harley's hands were
clenching the steering wheel tightly enough that his knuckles were
going white.
"Well, we have
a shadow dog thing chasing us, which I can't imagine is ever a good
thing. But we've found the kids, somebody actually helped us instead
of just prodding us mysteriously or threatening us and we seem to be
following what the story wants us to do. So how do you figure worse?
I mean besides the shadow dog, because that thing was creepy and I
barely saw it."
"Now, for all
intents and purposes, we really are kidnapping Darius Salt's
children. The real or fake or I don't know government agent looking
guys know where we are and there aren't that many places to get off
the highway for the next fifty miles or so. So we know are doing the
criminal thing we're accused of, which will make us look more guilty
for anything else they try to pin on us. And we're exposed and our
direction and locations will be easy to predict until we have a
chance to change that."
"Why do things
always sound worse when you explain them?"
"Because I
listen for danger before it eats me. That's why I'm the stable one."
"Do you mean
that the guys chasing us will know where we are?" Fitzroy asked.
"They can't
help but know," Harley said, "The highway doesn't allow for
us to change routes much. Why?"
"Because I see
cars blocking the road way down there." Fitzroy pointed.
"You have
crazy good eyes kid," Marion said, "I wouldn't have seen
that."
The land was flat
and the road was visible well into the distance, Marion suspected
that the block might still be several miles away, but he wasn't good
at judging distance. What Marion saw was a series of white shapes
lined across the highway, blocking it.
"I'm listening
to him though, that looks like a road block. So we're turning
around."
Harley brought the
goblin to a halt on the empty highway and performed a neat three
point turn and headed back in the opposite direction.
"But they're
back there too and stuff aren't they?" Maia asked.
"They are, and
we're running back and forth like a bad comedy routines. If we could
hear the gods watching us right now, they'd be laughing."
The goblin lumbered
back across highway it had already crossed making sounds that seemed
to suggest the van was not pleased with the wasted effort. All four
of the goblin's passengers scanned the landscape looking for a dirt
road turn off they might have missed or at least a spot where the
ditches on either side of the highway were gentle enough to
accommodate an off road excursion. But soon enough the slight curve
of the highway and the gentle hills of the landscape revealed a line
of white vans blocking the road. Harley hit the brakes and
immediately began a three point turn. But the slight cover given by
the terrain meant that the goblin was far closer to the road block
this time and the agents had quite obviously noticed the van and its
occupants.
The lead agent
pointed a finger at the group and suddenly Marion saw that he was
pointing a gun and not a finger. Marion blinked, the agent hadn't
drawn a gun, had merely pointed at them and then the finger was the
barrel of a gun and the agent was holding it.
The gun fired and
marion jumped as the round struck far to close to the goblin for
comfort.
"Did you see
that?" Marion asked as they ran, "He summoned a gun from
nowhere."
"Nobody
summoned anything Marion, He drew a gun, that what people do,"
Harley said, his gaze fixed on his driving, "My mind can accept
a lot, but people don't summon weapons out of nothing."
"I did, in the
other world, I summoned my tomahawks. I've done it three times now."
"In visions,
this is the real world."
Marion shook his
head, "I saw the agent do it. I don't know what the real world
is anymore."
"Are we going
back towards the other bad guys?" Maia asked.
"We are,
because we don't have other options, because they've got us trapped."
Fitzroy said quietly.
"They are
attempted to trap us," Marion, "The trap is a giant net
currently floating down upon us like a giant airborne jelly fish of
entrapment with deadly tentacle stingers."
"Mr. Dreamer
that didn't make sense." Maia said.
"Sorry forget
I said anything. The trap isn't locked, remember that."
"I'd like to
note that we are now officially being shot at, perhaps we should
remember that?" Harley added.
"Also a valid
point." Marion said as the goblin picked up speed, clunkering
mightily towards the other road block.
Fitzroy looked back
through the rear window, "They're getting back into their
vehicles. They're going to follow us. We aren't going to be able to
get away, because they're following us."
"Any
reasonable plans Harley?"
"I'm going to
run their blockade. Even if I have to use the goblin as a battering
ram."
"Oh my. Is
nice Harley about to go in the box?"
"Oh no. Nice
Harley is doing fine, but people are shooting at a vehicle containing
children and at this point I am out of more sensible ideas. Sadly,
running the roadblock is currently leading as the most sensible idea
left that we have."
"Fun fun fun."
Marion said.
As they approached
the roadblock, Marion and Harley quickly assessed it looking for weak
points. Once they were close enough to see clearly, Marion's
shoulders slumped. The vans were staggered in a double line across
the road, broadsides facing the oncoming traffic.
"We can't
break through that by force." Harley said flatly.
"The shoulder
isn't bad, we could drive around them." Marion said cautiously.
"Not at high
speed. We'd have to slow down. And they've graduated to shooting at
us."
Harley slowed the
vehicle to a stop about a hundred yards back from the road block.
"Step out of
the vehicle!" A voice ordered through a bull horn.
"any ideas?"
Marion asked.
"Step out of
the vehicle or we will open fire." The voice added.
"Step out of
the vehicle and get ready to run." Harley said.
Slowly, the ground
climbed from the goblin to face the suited figures. The agents
surrounded the vehicle. One agent stepped forward, "Escape is
impossible, submit."
"Marion, now
would be a really good time to have a conveniently useful vision or
something." Harley said, his hands clenched into fists.
Marion wracked his
brain. This was a story, he was part of it. That much was obvious.
But the story was jumbled and he was clearly starting in the middle,
and he couldn't untangle the two main story threads, the other world
he kept getting pulled into and this world. In this world Marion kept
getting the sense that a veil was being briefly lifted so he could
see the way the world really was, but that was at odds with the fact
that he kept getting pulled into an alternate world that seemed very
fairy tale like in construction and obviously not the real world.
What was the connection between the two things? He didn't know.
"You know it
almost like everything is trying to tell us that this world isn't
real." Marion said aloud.
The agent smiled
and shook his head, "Incorrect, This world is temporary,
irrelevant. What matters is the story. In the Shadowlands the story
is immortal."
Marion wracked his
brain. If the story world was what was important to them, if the
story logic was what mattered then maybe they could be beaten with
story logic.
"Harley, I've
got a really stupid idea. If it doesn't work, you're going to have to
rescue me."
Harley nodded, "If
it doesn't work, I won't be around to rescue you. Get crazy."
Marion reached back
to the feeling he'd had in the previous three attempts, the feel of
his tomahawks in his hands. He felt ridiculous, like a kid playing
make believe, the summoning had been a lot easier to justify in his
head when he was in a fantasy world. He couldn't feel the tomahawks,
it wasn't working.
The agent advanced
and put a hand on his shoulder.
"This ends
storyteller." The agent said.
Marion looked at
the agent, with his unreal supernatural bureaucratic appearance. They
all looked identical, the same hair, and nose and chin, as though
stamped from a mold or generated by a computer program. This is a
fantasy world, Marion realized, this is just as unreal as a mythic
pseudo-Europe. No reason that magic wouldn't work in a world that
summons armies of identical suit wearing drones.
That did it. The
realization that the enemy was using storybook logic was what Marion
needed and suddenly he could feel his tomahawks in his hands. Marion
rammed Edgar- the tomahawk in his left hand- into the gut of the
agent, causing the drone to double over. The other hand brought
Victor's cutting edge chopping down through the exposed neck of the
agent. As the blade cut through the agent's neck the body
disintegrated into smoke and Marion spun through the misty remains of
the agent to face the others.
The agents froze
and took a step back in unison.
And Marion charged.
The agents didn't stand a chance. They summoned up pistols, and this
time Harley actually saw the guns form like congealing smoke into
their hands. But they were much too slow. Marion flowed through them
a hurricane composed of cutting edges, The agents billowed and
exploded into smoke one by one leaving Marion standing breathing
heavy at the centre of a slowly dispersing ring of smoke.
Harley stood,
staring that the tomahawks in Marion's hands.
Harley took
everything in for a brief moment and then, mentally collected, he
nodded.
"Okay, now we
run again. Everyone into the goblin."
They piled into the
goblin and Harley inched the goblin around the roadblock on the
shoulder. Behind them the vans from the previous road block were
approaching.
"They won't be
able to get around as easily. That will buy us some time. I'm going
to run the goblin into the ground to get some distance on them before
they can chase again." Harley said.
As they picked up
speed, Harley's cell phone rang.
"That'll be
the Bone Man to give us our next threat, I imagine. i have to drive.
marion can you listen to him rant?"
"With
pleasure," Marion said and grabbed the phone, "This is
Dreamer. How may I help you."
"You will
regret that decision, I think."
"I doubt it. I
can beat your goons now. I know how to play this game."
"Indeed, you
are awakening to your role. Allow me to submerge you in it."
"What are you
talking about."
"You have
awakened, but not fully, you are unclean. I will purify you and let
you truly awaken to your role, that should remove you from play
effectively. Consider it my gift. I would also like to point out that
only your most admirable progress in awakening has made this
possible."
"What?"
Marion began to say and suddenly an audible wave of pressure burst
from the receiver of the phone and knocked Marion against the window
of the car causing him to drop the phone, the wave clipped Fitzroy in
the back seat as well, driving him back into the corner of the seat,
his head knocking hard against the seatbelt ring.
"Marion, can
you hear me?" Harley said loudly, "Marion are you there?
Can you hear my voice, Marion?"
Marion didn't
respond, and the silence stretched.
Harley reluctantly
took his eyes of the road and glanced at Marion. his friend lay
slumped forward in the seat, eyes open but staring blankly into
nowhere. Harley noted that Marion had a nosebleed. The cellphone lay
in Marion's lap, the call disconnected.
"Marion!
Marion wake up! Can you hear me?"
"He's not here
anymore. He's in the Shadowlands," Fitzroy said, his voice
wavering as he spoke.
"What do you
mean? How do you know where he is?" Harley asked.
"I can see him
there. He's not here anymore, they pushed him out."
"Out of
where?"
"I don't know,
but I can see here at the same time as I can see there, "Fitzroy
said, speaking in a halting wavering voice, "It hurts. I can't
focus on either."
