by David Simms
It sped up and charged.
“It came for us, Muddy.” Yet Otis didn’t waver.
“All because I forgot to close the door.”
He held the sticks at the ready, an odd grin forming on his face. “Dude, we screwed up. It’s time to set things right.”
Nodding, he framed the snake before him, swung down as hard as his arms could and shook the world with thunder. From Otis’ feet to the creature’s tail, the vibration of the street drum raced, cracking a line in the road and smashing right into the behemoth. The other-worldly sounds echoed and shook it. The beast lost its beat. Both teens left the ground as the serpent slammed itself into the street.
Muddy smacked Otis lightly on the back. “More! Don’t stop.”
Shaking off a good case of the nerves, Otis found his footing and began to roll out a rhythm that would shame most of the great rockers in history. The snake swung around, knocking a school security cart and sending it flying into the building.
“Uh-oh,” Muddy muttered. “There goes the budget for next year.”
With a swift shake of its tail, the serpent began the maraca-type sounds once more. With each undulation, it moved closer to the other band members, nearly knocking over several students who remained frozen in place.
“Poe?” He began to run, then stopped. This wasn’t his game. He turned to his drummer. “Otis?” His voice sounded strange, even to himself.
“Gotcha, buddy,” Otis said, not missing a beat. “I see her. Now shut up and stand back.”
The snake and drummer began a battle of percussion in a match of musical chess. For each line the snake slithered out, Bones countered with one that altered the rhythm, first going along with it then changing it slightly.
He’s drawing the thing in, suckering it. Beautiful! Just hope we survive the song!
Muddy began to feel his eyes glaze over as the snake began a more hypnotic rhythms. Maybe if he started playing?
“Don’t,” the drummer replied, sensing his friend’s intention. “I’ve got him.” He played along with the creature, adding more and more to the beat while Muddy felt himself begin to stiffen up from head to toe.
It was overpowering, whatever they got from the other side.
Its progress stopped right before the two of them, almost within snapping distance. The man-length teeth slammed into the street, rendering Muddy deaf and petrified, glued to where he stood. Fear rippled through him, thoughts racing, praying Otis could win out, but his mouth failed when he tried to cheer on his friend.
Rattle. Dissonance. Jangle of alien chords.
Counter rhythms. Double beats. Trebly rim shot.
The two danced musically while the snake’s jaws yawned precariously over the drummer’s head. Whether Otis felt no fear or he was entranced with his own beat, he showed no reaction.
On and on it went until…Otis stopped.
The snake attempted to halt its swaying, jangling, beating body, but it couldn’t.
Otis smiled then launched into the exact opposite of what both had played.
The creature froze then stumbled then flopped onto its belly, shrieking.
The drummer intensified his new beat, stepping right up to the massive jaws.
Don’t, Otis. Don’t.
But he did. He began to play on the serpent’s pipe-like teeth. He beat a wild rhythm on each massive fang.
With a cry Muddy would hear for months in his sleep, the creature howled and spun away. Its body swung and slithered as if on ice, back in the direction it came.
It bolted away from them and as it moved, its song became a disjointed mess.
“Dang,” the drummer said. “It doesn’t die?”
“Maybe back there, but not here. I have no clue. More importantly,” Muddy said, beginning to feel again, “Where’s it going now?”
They knew before either moved their lips.
The crossroads. Like a beaten dog, it meant to head home with its tail between its legs.
“Do you think Silver Eye knows?”
“Are you kidding? He knows all about what goes in and comes out of that thing.”
Corey stared at his friend. “Then why isn’t he here? Why didn’t he come to help? Why didn’t he know?”
The world suddenly morphed from color to black and white as a thought cut like a razor through Muddy.
They began to run toward the landfill, toward the portal where they left the door wide open when Muddy stopped short.
“Look.”
“What? Is that Bentley?”
Their nemesis, the cocky musician stood frozen before them.
Otis shook his shoulders. “Forget it, man. He probably didn’t even see us.”
“He didn’t have to,” Muddy replied.
The teen held a cell phone in the air. “He recorded it?”
“I guess.”
“Well, don’t be an idiot. Take it and hit erase.”
Muddy tried to wrestle the skinny phone from the boy’s big hands but as he was a few moments ago, Bentley remained frozen. “I can’t get it out! What do we do?”
“Hope,” said Otis. “We have to make sure it’s gone.”
They ran off to their bikes and sped off to the trail leading to the crossroads.
As they arrived, the creature had just finished slinking back through the portal.
“What’s that on the ground?” Otis’ voice shook.
“No. No.” Muddy’s mind broke as he realized the full gravity of his mistake.
“It’s Silver Eye.”
“Crap.”
“Is he...?
“No, but he seems close. Very close.”
Chapter Thirteen
When Poe and Corey showed up half an hour later, Muddy figured out that Silver Eye was in fact alive, but barely.
“Hold on, buddy.” Corey cradled the old man’s head.
“What you talking about, little man,” Silver Eye replied. “I’m fine. Just get me to where I’m supposed to go next.”
By then, Poe’s eyes had brimmed with tears.
“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault!” Muddy cried and yelled into the ground as he hung his head. “We were so stupid. So dumb—just like they always said we were, especially me. We should’ve waited for you but we didn’t.”
Silver Eye gurgled, his wounds visible to the group for the first time. A pair of long fang marks had punctured his chest, dark fluid oozing out in thin rivulets. “No, I did the same thing when I was your age,” he said and wheezed.
“You killed your friend?” Corey hugged the old man closer. He must have felt the kinship he’d abandoned when he moved from Iron. “You were an arrogant jerk who left the door open and let something crazy in to kill someone you cared about?”
The bluesman smiled, blood welling up at his lips. Clouds began to fill his good eye. “Something like that. There’s a reason I live where I do, why my only friend is a beastly beagle and scraggly old cat.”
Poe cried harder. “We’re your friends! You have all those celebrities who looked like they love you in those photos.”
He sighed, deflating just a bit. “Maybe they did one day. Maybe they did. But then I got cocky and she—” He coughed up some blood.
“Don’t talk,” Poe said, stroking his forehead. “The ambulance is almost here.”
Something inside of Muddy told him that it wouldn’t matter, that only one place could save him now. From the color of Silver Eye’s skin, he knew the snake had some serious venom in its bite and had been seeking out the man all along. It had likely smelled him, sensed him—sent by someone over there.
First it aimed for him. And then for the band.
* * * *
“She was special,” Silver Eye continued. “Someone I wanted to bring over, to impress and teach, to be my partner, in music and in love.” He gazed up at Poe. “Grab it while you can, missy. It don’t come around often.” Then he turned his head, to Muddy. “Even if the other fears what will happen.”
“Who
was she?” Poe’s tears streamed down her shirt.
He managed to lift a hand, if only to wave them off. “Doesn’t matter now. “I’ll be seeing her soon enough and we’ll see if she forgives me for what I did.” He pulled at Muddy. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you ever, ever betray her and turn your back on your world.”
“I wouldn’t,” Muddy cried. “I did this! If it wasn’t for me and this idiotic plan, you’d still be relaxing in your house.”
“And dying slower,” the man finished. “Who wants to fade away? You know the song. I’ve heard it myself. The lyrics came from ages ago. It’s better to burn out.”
He coughed again as he gripped Corey and Muddy’s hand. “Find him. Make things right if you can. Just don’t give up. Don’t let the Dark Muse turn the blues to black.”
The guitarist sobbed, not caring how he looked in front of Poe or the rest of the band. “First, my mother. Now you. I can’t do this.”
As his eyes closed, he said, “Muddy.” The boy leaned in close. “Yes, you can. You have something in you that your brother never did. That, my boy, will give you the best chance. Now bring me over.”
* * * *
While Corey and Muddy helped Poe staunch the blood flow, Otis pulled out his cell and made a call. Five minutes later, an Explorer screeched to the curb.
“Satch?” Muddy shot an expression of both surprise and relief at the sight of their music teacher.
“I came as soon as Otis called me.”
“How?” Then he remembered his friend had received music therapy lessons during one of his bouts with death a few years ago. The family had made a friend for life. “Thanks for believing in us.” His words tasted both bitter and relieved.
“I had a feeling this crossroads thing was real all along. I wish I had the guts you kids do.” He bent over the bluesman. “I’d always hoped to meet you. Tell me how to help.”
“Did you run over any strange snakes while driving here?” The old guy managed to sputter.
“No,” Satch smiled, “but when a golf cart flew into my band room, I figured I’d better do something. There aren’t many reasons a reject from a SyFy movie would be traipsing down Carteret Avenue during a school day.”
“Enough!” Muddy stomped his heel to punctuate his point. “We do this now. He’ll be trapped here if we don’t. The crossroads—now.”
No one said another word as they loaded him up with care in the back of the Explorer and piled in. Tires pealed as they sped toward the crossing. Within minutes, they arrived at the zone where one world met the next.
The group laid Silver Eye at the center of the crossroads.
“Want me to come?” Satch helped unload the SUV and turned to his students, a confused expression on his face.
The guitarist looked at his teacher. “Thank you, but go. This isn’t your fight and without an instrument over there, you’d be dead weight, literally. No offense.”
He regarded Muddy with a tear in his eye. “Muddy,” he said, his voice unsteady. “Are you sure about this?”
Muddy looked back into the eyes of his teacher and friend, thinking about what lay ahead. The fight. Finding Zack. The creatures already encountered and those yet to be faced. To trust Lyra and the stranger with her or not. Dying, like his friend here who was dying because of his impulses.
“I have no idea, but we’re not coming back until we get Silver Eye to safety and find my brother.”
“May the blues be with you,” the teacher spoke with a smile, repeating the cheesy line he often used as he dismissed the class. “Just come back.”
Muddy turned to his band and counted to four. The most heartfelt song he’d ever imagined poured from him as he felt blue in every inch of his body. Poe, Corey and Otis joined in as their fading friend held on, breathing through one of his harmonicas and sounding the softest note, but one which carried enormous power.
The strings vibrated under Muddy’s fingers, coming alive in both hands. Each wire he struck, each note he fingered, shook his being into that place where he needed to be. He felt all of himself become the song he played.
The curtain not only shimmered but dropped on the band just as Satch dove out of the way. With a splash, Muddy left the others behind as he tumbled headlong into the River. He realized with no regret that the place was an actual River, flowing with a substance he knew nothing of and knowing he might not live to surface again. He grabbed hold of Silver Eye’s hand and prayed he had what it took to deliver him safely to where he could heal.
The blues entered his skin, flowed into his blood and circulated up and down his arms, his legs vibrating with harmonics he barely heard, but felt. It smacked into his brain and heart as though his guitar's strings were connected to the battery of the world's biggest truck.
Silver Eye, his mind screamed. He felt like he was drowning but couldn't stop playing. Something called to him. It begged his fingers to keep playing to squeeze the soul out of each note. I’m so sorry.
Don't stop. Keep in the blue. Ride the River.
It pulled at his will power. Muddy felt himself sinking further, the strong current tugging at every inch of him, down, further away from his friends and the crossroads. Like an ocean, the pressure built up at his ears, but instead of pain, it yielded a high beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. Better than his first kiss. Better than the Hulk rollercoaster at Universal. Better than the first time playing onstage. Better than when he met Poe. The more he played, the more intoxicating the feeling.
The harder he played, the deeper he sunk.
The faster the riff, the wider the vibrato and the further down he went.
In the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't good, nothing feeling like this could be good, but the calling overpowered his common sense. Each time he inhaled, a cool blue flow of something filled him up and he cared less about rising to the surface, to his friends.
He was probably drowning—and didn’t care.
“Muddy.”
The voice sounded from below him. The sound of his name broke up into waves. He swore his imagination was screwing with him.
“Muddy.” Louder this time. Still wavy but heavier, like someone had dumped a tidal wave his way.
“Yeah?” He opened his mouth to call back but the blue coolness flowed inside, squashing his voice into a whisper. Would he really drown here? Silver Eye was, but then again the bluesman acted like dying here wasn't such a bad thing.
He looked down and through a kaleidoscopic view, his eyes focused on the old man just floating out of reach. His eyes uncrossed and drew the old man into focus. The man stared at him through eyes that were no longer glassy. Their power nearly parted the blue between teacher and student.
“Boy,” the voice spoke. “Take my hand. Now.”
Muddy shook the blue substance from his head and stretched down with his left hand letting the guitar loose. It almost reached, but not quite. He extended himself further, throwing his shoulder and hip into it, and turned more than expected. Without something to ground him, his body was at the mercy of the River. Fingers touched fingers and the old man encircled his. A sudden warmth washed over his body and it dawned upon him that sinking was wrong.
His arms and legs kicked like a swimmer struggling against a rip tide. “Relax,” spoke a strong thought from outside his head.
The hand held like iron and visions flooded his mind. Sounds and images of their impending mission branded themselves on his psyche. Now he knew what the group had to do in order to save Zack.
But instead of comforting him, it scared the heck out of him, bringing back the chill of the blue surrounding him. It would take all of them, some together and some separate, to survive the trials of the Triton and save his brother from the Dark Muse.
“Muddy,” Silver Eye said. “Do you understand?”
He nodded but the images ran cloudy.
“Then let me go and get your butt out of here.” Muddy looked at the source of the voice and saw a man growing younger by the
moment.
“No!” he screamed in his head. He couldn't let the man drown down here.
“But,” Silver Eye said, the smallest of smiles curling his lip. “Don't you realize? This is where I'm supposed to be. I'm home now.”
Muddy still held firm but felt strong hands reach under him and yank hard. The connection broke. The blue River’s current washed stronger, as the image of Silver Eye faded away.
As he rose, he heard the old man say, “I'll be with you all the way, a part of you, just like the pick in your hand.”
Chapter Fourteen
The sunlight broke through the darkness, blinding him. Corey, Otis and Poe dropped him onto the path. “What the...?”
She looked at him. “Are you okay? We couldn't find you for a while.”
“But,” Muddy replied, confused, “you didn't play the song. How'd you get through?” Then he looked around them. The landfill was gone. The tide had carried them to the other side.
Otis patted him on the shoulder. “Man, you're a lot stronger than we thought. You surfed that River and told it who was boss.” But even he knew the truth. Both of them nearly died in there.
“How’d we get here?”
“Your song's more powerful than you know. I guess you really wanted to save him.”
Panic struck him from all sides. Where was he? “We have to pull him out! He's too weak to do it himself.”
Corey wrapped an arm around him. “Muddy, he ain't down there. Maybe this was his plan all along. Look around. The River isn’t something we can get to now. We have live people to save. Zack, remember?”
“But we have to do something.” Muddy looked down and sighed.
They stared at the river flowing between the crossroads. It had been fading, draining from a deep, dark current to what it remained now; a slow trickle that dried up right before their eyes.
Otis clawed the dirt. “Where'd he go?”
Muddy stood up and grabbed his guitar. “He'll be with us every step of the way.”
When he opened his right hand, a silver pick lay in his palm.
* * * *
They looked down the trail that lead to the town and then at the unknown path. “We need Lyra. We need a guide to get us to the mountain.” Muddy slipped the pick into his pocket, right next to the one he’d retrieved from the creature. Silver Eye’s and Zack’s. He prayed it would give him the confidence he knew he would need.
