by Gareth Otton
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep that up.”
“I should thank you,” he said. “You saved us all.”
“It was the least I could do after you getting us out of there.”
Her words conjured dark memories of smoke and fire, and suddenly his brain let him experience the thoughts his mind wouldn’t tolerate twenty minutes earlier. The place he had lived his entire adult life was more than just a house and possessions, it was a home filled with irreplaceable memories. Now it was a charred ruin.
Deep inside him, a hole grew wider and deeper. This was yet another loss in a long succession of losses and Tad wondered just how much more he could lose before that hole consumed all that was left of him. Another part of his mind focused on what he had left to lose. Stella, his daughter, his dogs, Tony… there were still plenty of things in his life that he cherished more than life itself, and tonight someone had tried to take that from him.
A flood of rage filled that hole, and it only intensified as Tony added his own anger to Tad’s fire. Tad wasn’t the only one who had lost much over the last year. Tony had lived in that house every bit as long as Tad, loved the people that Tad loved, and his outrage at someone trying to take those things from him was every bit the equal of Tad’s.
Filled with manic energy, Tad jumped to his feet, surprising Stella in the process. She only needed to look at his face to know what was going on in his mind, and he didn’t need to say anything.
“Take us to the DTHQ first. We’ll drop Jen and the dogs off to be safe. Then we need to find your other ghosts before we go anywhere. I doubt Kuruk and his people will still be at the house, but if they are, then I want you fully powered up before we face them.”
Tad was struck again by how lucky he was to have Stella in his life. He was reacting solely on instinct and ready to jump home without a second thought. But once again Stella proved her ability to think clearly in a crisis and he knew that hers was the better path.
Gently scooping up his daughter as Stella crouched over all three dogs, making sure she was in contact with each one, Tad stepped up beside her so they were touching and changed the channel. The walls of his round room were replaced with the walls of the garage at the DTHQ, the only place anyone could dreamwalk inside the building. The sense Tad felt for the world around him vanished and an explosion of light made him blink. Strangely, even though he could now see, it was so much less detail than his Dream sense that it was almost like being blind.
Stella groaned and doubled over, clutching her stomach as she tried not to be sick. She hadn’t been able to jump when he dreamwalked her here and nausea hit her hard.
“We need to get you a dreamcatcher of your own,” he said, thinking that it would solve this problem for her. If she could dreamwalk under her own power, then she wouldn’t have to worry about feeling sick every time. Now he thought of it, he wasn’t sure why they hadn’t done it before. Yes, she had Freckles, but that wasn’t always ideal.
Stella looked up and was about to answer when the garage door banged opened and Denise burst inside along with three members of the tactical team. A look of relief washed over her face as she saw them.
“Thank god you’re alright. Trevors and his guys are at your house now trying to get inside. We all feared the worst.”
Stella climbed to her feet and was about to say something when she was surprised by a fierce hug from her assistant. Despite everything that happened tonight, Tad smiled at the startled expression on Stella’s face. Even after a year of changes, she still didn’t believe that there were people in the world that cared for her so strongly. However, that smile didn’t last against the other dark thoughts in his mind.
“Stella, we need to go,” he said, loath to intrude on Stella’s moment but not prepared to wait on this. He knew it was unlikely, but he hoped Kuruk was still at the house. He would pay for what he took from Tad tonight… For everything he tried to take.
Stella nodded and disengaged from the hug.
“Please look after these four,” she said to Denise, motioning to Jen and the dogs.
“Where are you going?” Denise asked.
Stella glance once at Tad before her own expression hardened.
“To war,” she answered as she grabbed Tad’s hand and jumped.
◆◆◆
Less than five minutes later, a fully powered up Tad stepped out of Dream with Stella at his side, both ready for a fight. Tad’s body shook with adrenaline, and only that kept him on his feet as he was presented with something he wasn’t prepared to face.
Kuruk and his dreamcatchers were gone, and in their place was a chaotic mess of activity as fire fighters filled the streets, police kept reporters and normal people back, and at the centre of it all, the shell of a ruined house continued to smoke. The windows and exits were still covered with concrete so no smoke escaped from there, but the roof had long since collapsed and there were flames rising from the wreckage. A column of greasy black smoke plumed into the sky like the aftermath of a volcanic eruption, and Tad needed no more information than that to know that his home was gone. There was no rescuing this.
There were startled shouts at their arrival, but Tad ignored it all, focused on the ruin of his home.
He dared to let himself be happy tonight, let himself relax. That mistake nearly cost him everything.
You should have been ready, he told himself. You should have had your ghosts with you at all times. You should have prepared an escape route for a situation just like this. You should have hunted Kuruk down like the animal he is and put him out of his misery. You should…
He snapped out of his spiralling thought pattern as he felt a hand on his arm. He looked over at the concerned expression on Stella’s face, but his thoughts never calmed. If anything, he only grew angrier.
Kuruk would pay for this.
“There was nothing you could have done,” Stella said, misreading him for the first time tonight.
“If I had my ghosts, then this couldn’t have happened,” he said, thinking about that strange ability of his to draw power from multiple ghosts to level up his dreamwalking abilities. It was something no other dreamwalker could do and had made the difference when dealing with Jacob. Facing people armed with dreamcatchers, it wouldn’t even be a contest.
Thinking of that strange ability made him wonder again why he could do what no one else could. Ashley Evans said it was because of what he was. However, he hadn’t been able to pin the man down to explain in more detail. It was yet another way he dropped the ball recently. He kept making these mistakes and it was costing him so much. It was long past time he got his act together because something like this couldn’t happen again. From now on, there could be no more mistakes, not with war coming…
No. War wasn’t coming, he realised. It was already here. What was this if not a first strike?
He couldn’t afford any more errors. He had to take this seriously. Though he hated to push Jen aside, Christmas had to be cancelled because he had a war to fight. He would hunt down Ashley first and get answers, then he would do whatever needed to be done to win this war and make the Borderlands safe again. It was the only way he could protect the people he loved.
Stella was saying something else and inside his ghosts were protesting the direction of his thoughts, but he ignored them all. He was stuck staring at the ruins of his home while remembering a single image. Kuruk had been smiling as he met Tad’s eye earlier that night. He wore a gleeful grin as his people tried to burn Tad and his family alive.
For the first time since Norman told Tad of the threat of war, Tad welcomed the coming conflict. He put aside the last vestiges of the history teacher who shied away from violence and devoted himself to a single promise.
He would not rest until Kuruk paid for what he did tonight, and when that moment happened, it would be Tad who was smiling this time.
Grim faced and resolute, Tad turned from his home and the man he used to be
, and prepared himself for war.
4
Saturday, 24th December 2016
11:40 (Local time)
Lizzie always assumed that if she ever went to New Zealand, it would be to see the beautiful scenery, learn about Maori culture, and to follow a more traditional tourist itinerary. She did not expect that her first visit would lead her down a graffiti ridden back alley in Wellington, nor to the dingy pub hidden away on the corner. Thanks to a handy little tattoo she’d gotten to ease Tad’s worry for her safety, that was exactly where she was. Just thirty seconds earlier she was in her studio finishing her notes. Despite the unpleasant destination, travelling that way would never get old.
Her dreamcatcher was still cooling as she stepped over the threshold of the bar and looked around.
What a dive, she thought, tucking her hands into her pockets so she wouldn’t have to touch anything.
The word dank best described the little pub. Despite it being the start of the summer in this part of the world, the lack of windows and poor lighting created an oppressive gloom. A bar large enough for six stools ran down the wall on the left, leaving the remaining space as standing room only. Those stools were little more than threadbare cushions atop rusty metal legs, a similar aesthetic to the bar itself. Why anyone would choose to come here voluntarily Lizzie would never know.
There were only three people in the room, two of whom looked up as she entered. The barman was a skinny man with spindly limbs, leather-like skin, and a face that bristled with white whiskers that looked like they belonged on a toilet brush. He didn’t smile in greeting. In fact he ignored her, turning his attention back to the conversation he was having with a red-faced woman on the other side of the bar. The woman wasn’t so quick to look away, her milky grey eyes unfocussed as she tracked Lizzie’s movement across the pub towards the final patron who hadn’t looked up.
He was a man in his middle thirties with black hair, olive skin, and a powerful physique. His hands that held the large glass of whiskey were broad and rough, the hands of a man used to hard labour. The unhealthy purpling of his face, the darkness around his eyes and the extended gut that poked out from under his stained t-shirt showed it had been a while since he had participated in that labour. He was also the man Lizzie was here to see.
“Jalen Doukas?” she asked.
He flinched at the sound of his name, and his eyes darted up from the amber liquid in his glass. They were unfocussed at first, but slowly cleared as a frown formed.
“Owd ooh know at name?”
This wasn’t her first time chasing a drunk for a lead and she had long since learnt to understand their language. She ran his slurred words through a translation process in her mind.
How do you know that name?
Pulling out the stool next to him, she sat down at the bar, noticing out the corner of her eye that the barman looked up and was frowning.
“I’ve been looking for you, Jalen.”
“What for? I don’t owe you any money,” he stated, though it sounded more like he hoped that was true than stating a fact.
“I’m not here for money. I’m here to talk about why you left Athens.”
It took a moment for her words to cut through the alcoholic fog clouding his brain, but when they registered they had enough power to wash that fog away. His eyes darted towards the door as panic flooded his expression.
“There’s no one with me. I just want to ask a few questions,” Lizzie said, trying to keep him from fleeing.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Lizzie Bradley. I’m a journalist and I was hoping I could ask a few questions about why you left Athens.”
The man shrank away further, and Lizzie suspected that if he was even a touch more sober, he would have already run.
“How did you find me?”
“It wasn’t easy,” she admitted and wondered if that might have been the understatement of the year.
When Leon and Stella told her about the shadowy group called the Eidolon, she hadn’t believed them entirely. But something about their story rang true, and curiosity was always her downfall. A month later and she was a woman obsessed. She found little at first, just a few rumours here and the odd story there, which fueled her desire to keep looking. Soon the stories grew more outlandish and led to bigger stories, ones with more troubling conclusions. The more people she talked to, the more she discovered of what might be the biggest cover up in history.
There were traces of this group everywhere she looked. Nothing concrete, but it felt like she was seeing the very tips of the roots of a giant tree. Those roots were far reaching and touching many things, but if she followed them back far enough she might find the source.
A month of chasing leads and jumping from one story to the next led to a rumour of a man with first hand knowledge of something more meaningful. This man had fled Athens over a year ago and disappeared. She interviewed his family, chased down old friends and looked far and wide for the man with no luck. Worse, it seemed that she wasn’t the first person to have interviewed these people, as she wasn’t the only one looking.
She struck gold when she tracked down an old friend who travelled with the man in their youth. He mentioned how their travels took them to New Zealand where they both found short term work. He described it as the happiest time of his life and suggested Jalen might have felt the same. Both of them expressed a desire to go back one day, but that had been years ago, and he had almost forgotten the notion.
It was a long shot that paid off. Lizzie went to the place where they both found employment and learned that Jalen had been through this way, but had been fired because he spent more time in the bar than he did at work. That comment led Lizzie here, where she hoped to finally get answers.
“That was the point,” Jalen said, sounding more sober by the minute. “No one was supposed to find me.” He drained what was left of the whiskey in his glass and looked like he was about to go. “I need to—”
“Let me buy you one more,” Lizzie interrupted. “I just have a few questions and after that I’ll leave you alone.”
“You don’t understand. If you found me, then they could be right behind you. I’ve got to go.”
“Who could?” Lizzie asked, hoping for confirmation, but the man just shook his head. “Listen, it was only by dumb luck that I found out about your time here, and it was a long shot at best. If travelling wasn’t so easy for me, I might never have come. Whatever the case, you definitely have time for a few questions. Stay, have another drink.”
Before he could answer, she waved at the scowling barman who reluctantly pulled himself away from the conversation he was having like it was the biggest imposition in the world.
“What do you want?” he grumbled, not winning any awards for customer service.
“Another one of those… In fact, make it two,” Lizzie said. They would both be for Jalen because not only had she never developed a taste for whiskey, there was no chance she would drink anything from the glasses in this place.
The barman threw out a number that seemed steep to her, but she paid regardless. It would be worth it if she could get Jalen to talk.
Jalen eyed the whiskey that refilled his glass with a troubled expression. It was clear that a part of him still wanted to leave, but the allure of the whiskey was testing his resolve.
“Just a few questions for a few drinks, that’s all I ask,” Lizzie said. “Then you never have to see me again.”
She nudged the nearest glass toward the man and that pushed him over the edge of indecision.
“What do you want to know?” he asked, snatching up the glass and draining half of the drink in a single swallow. At that rate he’d be through both drinks in moments, so Lizzie decided not to hang around.
“Why did you run?”
“People were looking for me,” he muttered. “Bad people.”
Lizzie refrained from saying something insulting about his obvious response, and asked, “Why were they after you?
”
He polished off the first tumbler and reached for the second before answering.
“Because of what I saw.”
Lizzie felt like snatching the second glass out of his hand and demanding that he answer in more detail if he wanted the drink, but he finally elaborated on his own.
“I was a stone mason and was just finishing up a huge job in the city. Most of my work is outside stuff, but this one was different. The client wanted loads of stone work done inside. Custom designs, marble cladding… things like that. And he was paying big… Biggest job I ever had. We’d been on it for over a year because the building was so big.”
With another huge swallow, the next drink followed the first, leaving Jalen frowning at the empty glass. Reluctantly, Lizzie waved at the barman, motioning for two more. She just hoped she could get the answers she needed from the guy before he passed out.
“On our last day on the job, we were finishing up work on the penthouse. I’ve never seen a place like it. Windows everywhere, looking out over the city with views like I’ve never seen before. Anyway, I was just finishing up when there was a delivery. Enormous crates, hundreds of them.”
“What was in them?” Lizzie prompted when he felt silent as the barman poured the next drinks.
“I don’t think any of us were supposed to know. That was the mistake. The delivery guys were only supposed to drop off the crates, they weren’t supposed to open the boxes.”
Dark thoughts rushed through Lizzie’s brain about what could have been in those boxes, and she prepared herself to hear something awful. However, she needn’t have worried.
“They were full of statues and antiques… Only… These were like no statues I’ve ever seen. They were beautiful, like you can’t imagine. The people looked so real it was like they could actually come to life and start walking around. I’ve never seen… I’ve worked with stone all my life, and I never knew something so perfect could come from it.”
