The Traveler fr-1

by John Twelve Hawks

  The clerk stared at Gabriel when he entered the store, and he went down an aisle to avoid her curiosity. The shelves held boxes and jars without any words printed on them. Instead, the different containers had colorful drawings of the products hidden inside. Cartoon children and their parents smiled cheerfully as they consumed breakfast cereal and tomato soup.

  Gabriel picked up a box of crackers; it weighed almost nothing. He picked up another box, ripped open the top, and discovered that it was empty inside. Checking other boxes and jars, he went over to the next aisle and found a little man kneeling on the floor as he restocked the shelves. His starched white shopkeeper’s apron and red bow tie made him look neat and organized. The man worked with great precision, making sure that the display side of each box was facing out.

  “What’s wrong?” Gabriel asked. “Everything is empty.”

  The little man stood up and looked intently at Gabriel. “You must be new here.”

  “How can you sell empty boxes?”

  “Because they want what’s inside them. We all do.”

  The man was drawn to the warmth of Gabriel’s body. Eagerly, he stepped forward, but Gabriel pushed him away. Trying not to panic, he left the store and returned to the square. His heart was beating quickly and a cold wave of fear rushed through his body. Sophia Briggs had told him about this place. He was in the Second Realm of the hungry ghosts. They were lost spirits, fragments of Light that were constantly searching for something to fill their painful emptiness. He would stay here forever unless he could find the passageway out.

  He hurried down the street and was surprised to find a butcher shop. Lamb chops, pork roasts, and sides of beef were lying on metal trays inside the brightly lit store. A heavyset butcher with blond hair stood behind the case with his assistant, a young man in his twenties. A boy wearing a man’s apron was carefully sweeping the white tile floor. The food was real. The two men and the boy looked healthy. Gabriel’s hand touched the brass doorknob. He hesitated, then went inside.

  “You must be a new arrival,” the butcher said with a cheerful smile. “I know just about everyone around here and I’ve never seen you before.”

  “Is there something to eat?” Gabriel asked. “What about these hams?”

  He pointed to three smoked hams hanging from hooks over the display counter. The butcher looked amused and the assistant sneered. Without asking permission, Gabriel reached up and touched one of the hams. It felt wrong. Something was wrong. He pulled it off the hook, dropped it on the floor, and watched the ceramic object shatter into pieces. Everything in the store was false: imaginary food displayed like the real thing.

  He heard a sharp click and spun around. The boy had locked the door latch. Turning again, Gabriel saw the butcher and his assistant come from behind the display case. The assistant pulled an eight-inch knife from the leather holder that hung from his belt. The owner held a large cleaver. Gabriel drew his sword and stepped back so he was near the wall. The boy set aside the broom and pulled out a thin, curved knife-the sort of thing that was used to cut fillets off a bone.

  Smiling, the assistant raised his arm and threw his weapon. Gabriel jerked to the left as the blade buried itself in the wood paneling. Now the butcher came forward, swinging and twirling the heavy cleaver. Gabriel faked a cut to the head, then came down low and slashed the butcher’s arm. The ghost grinned and displayed the wound: cut skin, muscle, and bone, but no blood at all.

  Gabriel attacked; the cleaver came up and blocked his sword. Two blades rubbed against each other, the steel screeching like a caught bird. Gabriel jumped to one side, got behind the butcher, and swung low, cutting off the ghost’s left leg below the knee. The butcher fell forward and hit the tile floor. He lay on his stomach, groaning and reaching out his arms as if he were trying to swim on dry land.

  The assistant grabbed a knife off the chopping board and Gabriel got ready to defend himself. Instead, the assistant knelt beside the butcher and stabbed him in the back. He cut deeply, pulling the blade down through the muscle to the hips. The boy ran over and joined this attack, cutting off pieces of dry flesh and stuffing them in his mouth.

  Gabriel unlocked the door and ran outside. He crossed the street to the little park at the center of the square and realized that people were coming out of the buildings. He recognized the woman who had been playing the piano and the little clerk with the bow tie. The ghosts knew that he was in their city. They were searching for him, hoping that he could fill their emptiness.

  Gabriel stood alone beside the bandstand. Should he run away from them? Was there a way to escape? He heard a car engine, spun around, and saw headlights coming down one of the side streets. As the car got closer, he saw that it was an old-fashioned taxicab with a glowing yellow light on the roof. Someone began honking the taxi’s horn over and over again, then the vehicle pulled up to the curb. The driver rolled down the side window and grinned; it was Michael.

  “Jump in!” he shouted.

  Gabriel scrambled into the car and his brother circled the square, honking the horn and steering around the ghosts. He turned down a side street and went a little faster. “I was up on the roof of this building and then I looked down and saw you in the square.”

  “How’d you get the cab?”

  “I ran down to the street and this cabdriver showed up. He was a skinny old guy who kept asking if I was ‘new’-whatever that means. So I yanked him out of the cab, punched him in the face, and drove away.” Michael laughed loudly. “I don’t know where we are, but I doubt if I’ll be arrested for car theft.”

  “We’re in the Second Realm of the hungry ghosts.”

  “That sounds right. I stepped into a diner and there were four people sitting in the booths. No food anywhere. Just empty plates.”

  Michael jerked the steering wheel hard and turned the cab into an alleyway. “Hurry up,” he said. “We’ve got to get into this building before anyone sees us.”

  The brothers got out of the cab. Michael was holding a sword with a gold triangle embedded in the handle.

  “Where’d you get that?” Gabriel asked.

  “Friends.”

  “It’s a talisman.”

  “I know. It’s good to have a weapon in a place like this.”

  The Corrigan brothers left the alleyway and hurried down the sidewalk to a four-story building with a granite façade. The large entrance door was made of dark metal and it was divided into squares with bas-relief sculptures of wheat, apples, and other kinds of food. Michael pulled the door open and the brothers slipped inside. They were in a long windowless hallway with a black-and-white checkerboard floor and lamps hanging from brass chains. Michael jogged down the hallway and stopped at a door marked LIBRARY. “Here we are. Safest place in town.”

  Gabriel followed his brother into a two-story room with a stained-glass window at one end. All the walls were lined with oak shelves crammed with books. There were ladders on wall tracks running the length of the room and a catwalk fifteen feet up that gave access to another set of shelves. Heavy wooden chairs and reading tables covered with a green leather surface were in the middle of the room. Lamps made of dark green glass illuminated the tables. The library made Gabriel think of history and tradition. Any book of wisdom could be found in this place.

  Michael strolled around as if he were the librarian. “Nice, huh?”

  “And no one will come here?”

  “Of course not. Why would they do that?”

  “To read a book.”

  “No chance of that.” Michael picked up a thick book with a black leather binding and tossed it to his brother. “See for yourself.”

  Gabriel opened the book and found nothing but blank pages. He dropped it on a table and pulled another book from the shelves. Blank pages. Michael laughed.

  “I looked in the Bible and the dictionary. Everything’s blank. The people who live here can’t eat, drink, or read. I bet they can’t have sex or go to sleep. If this is a dream, then it’s definitely
a nightmare.”

  “It’s not a dream. We’re both here.”

  “That’s right. We’re Travelers.” Michael nodded and touched his brother’s arm. “I was worried about you, Gabe. I’m glad you’re all right.”

  “Father’s alive.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I went to a place called New Harmony in southern Arizona. Eight years ago, Father met some people and inspired them to start a community living free of the Grid. He could be in our world-this world-anywhere.”

  Michael paced back and forth between the reading tables. He picked up a book as if it could give him an answer, then tossed it away. “All right,” he said. “Dad’s alive. That’s an interesting fact, but it’s not relevant. We’ve got to focus on our current problem.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “At this moment, my body is lying on a table at a research center near New York City. Where are you, Gabe?”

  “I’m at a deserted church camp in the Malibu hills.”

  “Are you surrounded by guards?”

  “Of course not.”

  “When I return to the normal world, I’ll tell them where you are-”

  “Are you crazy?” Gabriel stepped closer to his brother. “You were captured by the Tabula. They’re the same people who attacked our house and burned it down.”

  “I know all about it, Gabe. A man named Kennard Nash explained everything. But that was in the past. Now they need a Traveler. They’re in contact with an advanced civilization.”

  “What difference does that make? They want to destroy any kind of personal freedom.”

  “That’s the plan for the ordinary people, but not for us. There’s no right or wrong about this. It’s going to happen. You can’t stop it. The Brethren are already putting the system into place.”

  “Our parents didn’t see the world that way.”

  “And what the hell did that get us? We didn’t have any money. We didn’t have any friends. We couldn’t even use our real names and we spent our entire lives running. You can’t avoid the Grid. So why not join the people in control?”

  “The Tabula have brainwashed you.”

  “No, Gabe. It’s the other way around. I’m the only one in the family who ever saw things clearly.”

  “Not this time.”

  Michael placed his hand on the handle of the gold sword. The two Travelers looked in each other’s eyes. “I protected you when we were growing up,” Michael said. “Guess I have to do it again.” He turned on his heels and hurried from the room.

  Gabriel stood between the tables. “Come back here!” he shouted. “Michael!” He waited for a few seconds, and then ran out into the hallway. Empty. No one there. The door squeaked faintly as it closed behind him.

  51

  Michael sat on the surgical table in the middle of the Tomb. Dr. Richardson and the anesthesiologist stood back and stared at him while Miss Yang removed the sensors from his body. When the nurse was done, she took a fleece-lined sweatshirt from the tray and held it on the open palms of her hands. Michael took the shirt and slowly pulled it on. He felt exhausted and very cold.

  “Maybe you should tell us what happened.” Dr. Richardson sounded worried.

  “Where’s General Nash?”

  “We called him immediately,” Dr. Lau said. “He was over in the administration center.”

  Michael picked up the sheathed sword lying on the table beside him. Like a guardian spirit it had traveled with him through the barriers. The gleaming sword blade and the gold handle were exactly the same in the Second Realm.

  The door opened and a thin shaft of light appeared on the dark floor. Michael returned the sword to the table as Kennard Nash hurried across the room.

  “Is everything okay, Michael? They said you wanted to see me.”

  “Get rid of these people.”

  Nash nodded his head. Richardson, Lau, and Miss Yang retreated through the lab door underneath the northern gallery. The computer technicians were still peering down from the gallery windows.

  “That’s all!” Nash said loudly. “And please switch off the microphones! Thank you very much!”

  The technicians reacted like schoolboys caught peeking into the teacher’s room. Immediately, they moved away from the windows and returned to the glowing light of their monitors.

  “So where did you go, Michael? A new realm?”

  “I’ll describe that later. There’s a more important issue. I met my brother.”

  General Nash stepped closer to the table. “That’s wonderful! Were you able to speak to each other?”

  Michael swiveled so that he was sitting on the edge of the table. When he and Gabriel were traveling around the country together, Michael had spent hours staring out the windshield at the passing scenery. Sometimes he would concentrate on one particular object beside the road and hold that vision in his mind for several seconds until it disappeared. Now that same sensation had returned to him with an increased power. Images lingered in his mind and he could analyze the smallest details.

  “When we were growing up, Gabriel never looked ahead or made any plans. I was the one who always figured out what to do.”

  “Of course, Michael. I understand.” Nash’s voice was soft and soothing. “You’re the older brother.”

  “Gabe gets a lot of crazy ideas. I need to be objective. Make the right choice.”

  “I’m sure the Harlequins have told your brother all their foolish legends. He doesn’t see the big picture. Not like you.”

  It felt as if time had slowed down. Without effort, Michael could see the split-second changes in the expression on Nash’s face. Normally, everything happened quickly during a conversation. One person was talking and the other was waiting to respond. There was noise, movement, confusion, and all these factors helped people conceal their true emotions. Now everything was clear.

  He remembered how his father had acted with strangers, watching them carefully while they spoke. That’s how you did it, Michael thought. You didn’t read their minds-just their faces.

  “Are you all right?” Nash asked.

  “After we talked, I left my brother and found the passageway back. Gabriel is still in the Second Realm, but his body is lying in a church camp in the Malibu hills.”

  “That’s wonderful news. I’ll send a team there right away.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to hurt him. Just get him under control.”

  Nash glanced down as if he was getting ready to conceal the truth. His head shifted slightly and he showed his teeth with a terse smile. Michael blinked and then the world was normal again. Time continued to move forward, each new moment falling into the future like a line of dominoes.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll do everything we can to protect your brother. Thank you, Michael. You did the right thing.”

  General Nash turned and hurried through the shadows to the exit. The heels of his dress shoes made a sharp noise on the polished concrete floor. Click-click. Click-click. The sound echoed off the walls of the Tomb.

  Michael picked up the gold sword and held the scabbard tightly.

  52

  It was close to five o’clock in the afternoon, but Hollis and Maya still hadn’t returned. Vicki felt like a Harlequin, protecting the Traveler who lay on the cot in front of her. Every few minutes, she touched Gabriel’s neck with her fingers. His skin was warm, but there was no sign of a pulse.

  Vicki sat a few feet away from him and read some fashion magazines she found in the closet. The magazines were about clothes and makeup and finding men and losing men and being knowledgeable about sex. It embarrassed Vicki to read some of the articles, so she skimmed through them quickly. She wondered if she would feel uncomfortable wearing tight clothes that displayed her body. Hollis would find her more attractive, but then she might become one of the girls who received a duplicate toothbrush and a ride home the next morning. Reverend Morganfield was always talking about shameless modern women and the harlot by the side of
the road. “Shameless,” she whispered. “Shameless.” The word could sound like a feather or a slithery snake.

  Vicki tossed the magazines into a trash can, went outside, and looked down the hill. When she returned to the dormitory, Gabriel’s skin was pale and felt cold. Perhaps the Traveler had entered a dangerous realm. He could have been killed by demons or the hungry ghosts. Fear came to her like a soft voice growing louder and more powerful. Gabriel was losing strength. Dying. And she couldn’t save him.

  She unbuttoned Gabriel’s shirt, leaned over his body, and pressed her ear against his chest. Vicki listened for a heartbeat. Suddenly, there was a thumping noise, but Vicki realized it came from outside the building.

  Abandoning the body, she ran out the door and saw a helicopter descend to the flat area of land beside the empty swimming pool. Men jumped out wearing helmets with bulletproof face shields and body armor that made them look like robots.

  Vicki ran back into the dormitory. She put her arms around Gabriel’s chest and pulled him, but he was too heavy for her to carry. The cot fell on its side and she had to lower the body onto the floor. She was still holding the Traveler when a tall man wearing body armor ran into the room.

  “Let go of him!” he shouted and pointed his assault rifle.

  Vicki didn’t move.

  “Step back and put your hands on your head!”

  The man’s finger began to squeeze the trigger and Vicki waited for the bullet. She would die beside the Traveler, just like the Lion of the Temple had died for Isaac Jones. After all these years, debt paid.

  A moment later, Shepherd strolled into the room. He looked as stylish as ever, with his spiky blond hair and tailored suit. “That’s enough,” he said. “No need for that.”

  The tall man lowered the rifle. Shepherd nodded his approval, and then approached Vicki as if he was late for a party. “Hello, Vicki. We’ve been looking for you.” He leaned over the Traveler’s body, took the sword away, and pressed his fingers against Gabriel’s carotid artery. “Looks like Mr. Corrigan has gone off to another realm. That’s all right. Sooner or later, he has to come home.”