Dream Stalkers

by Tim Waggoner

  “Another assassin?” I said.

  “Looks like,” Jinx answered. He cocked his head to the side. “I wonder how it managed to drive the motorcycle and fire the rifle without any hands or legs.”

  “Good question. Let’s ask it.” I’d kept my trancer trained on the Incubus the entire time, and now I kicked it in the lung. “Sit up. Slowly.”

  The Conglomerate sat up and looked at us. It had a pair of eyes attached to a brain that rested on top of the pile of organs that formed its body. However it had managed to hold onto the M-rifle, the creature had lost its grip on it when the motorcycle crashed, and it was weaponless.

  “Feel like talking?” I didn’t see a mouth, but I assumed the creature had some way of communicating.

  Jinx smiled at the Incubus. “Please say no.”

  The Conglomerate glared at us. At least, I think it glared. It was hard to tell since the Incubus didn’t have eyelids, or, for that matter, a face.

  The words the creature spoke were moist and thick, as if it produced sound by sliding organs against one another.

  “I don’t have anything to say. But he might.”

  The creature’s body rippled and blurred, and it became a humanoid form comprised entirely of sand.

  “Montrose?” I said.

  His sandy lips stretched into a smile.

  “Didn’t expect to see me again so soon, did you? You won the last round of our game. Now it’s time for Round Two.”

  But, before Montrose could do anything, Jinx angled the left side of his chest toward him, and a stream of thick liquid shot forth from his lapel flower. The substance struck Montrose in the face, and he staggered back, raising his hands in an attempt to wipe the gunk away. But, as he did so, his hands stuck fast to his face. He managed to tear them free, but huge chunks of his head came away with them, leaving two large depressions in his face. An acrid smell filled the air, and I realized that Jinx’s flower was shooting some kind of powerful glue.

  Jinx kept up the glue attack, running around Montrose in a circle to cover his entire body and apply layer after layer. Eventually, the stream became intermittent and then with a final gurgling sound, it stopped altogether.

  Jinx stopped running around Montrose. He returned to my side and sighed. “I was afraid of that. The works are all gunked up.”

  He plucked the daisy from his lapel and tossed it over his shoulder. It hit the ground with a gooey plop, and immediately began to wilt. The flower had done its job, though. Montrose looked like he’d been encased in acrylic, and he had been rendered immobile.

  We quickly moved to check out the motorcycle. The front wheel had been destroyed by my trancer beam, though, rendering the vehicle useless.

  I turned to Jinx. “Why the hell didn’t you use that glue on Montrose when we first fought him?”

  “I didn’t have any then. I picked some up at Misery Loves Company, just in case we ever ran into his sandy ass again.”

  I frowned. “I thought you just made your toys appear. You know, like magic.”

  He looked at me as if I had just said something incredibly stupid.

  “There’s no such thing as magic, Audra. You know that. There’s only Maelstrom energy. I pick up all my clown supplies at Misery Loves Company. They have a supply room in the back. It’s the only reason I go in that damn place. Their coffee sucks.”

  Now that the fighting was over, the Darkuns crept as close as they could to the light without being harmed by it. Jinx drew Cuthbert Junior, but the only weapons I had left were my two fists, and I didn’t think they were going to do much against the dark creatures that gathered around us in ever-increasing numbers.

  Something came flying toward me out of the darkness. I tried to dodge it, but there wasn’t enough light to see clearly, and I didn’t get out of the way in time. Something sharp grazed my right shoulder, slicing through my jacket, shirt, and the top layer of skin beneath. The object kept going until it hit the motorcycle seat and stuck fast.

  “Fuck!” I clapped my left hand to the wound to slow the bleeding and turned to look at the object that had cut me. It was an obsidian crescent with extremely sharp edges. The light we stood in was strong enough to cause the crescent to emit a sizzling hiss, and then it disappeared in a small puff of smoke. One of the Darkuns had sacrificed a piece of its substance to attack me, probably to probe our defenses. I fired a couple blasts from my trancer into the crowd of Darkuns, but without much effect. The weapon’s beam grew weaker with each shot, and I knew it didn’t have much power left.

  I heard a soft whirling sound, and, before I could react, Jinx swung Cuthbert Junior in front of me. Another black shard, this one shaped roughly like a knife blade, thunked into the hammer’s wooden head. Jinx didn’t bother trying to dislodge it. He stepped in front of me, Cuthbert Junior gripped tight in his hands, a look of absolute homicidal menace on his face.

  “I appreciate the gesture,” I said, still pressing my hand tight to my bleeding wound. “But they can attack us from multiple directions, remember? There’s no way you can protect me. Not this time.”

  Another dark shard went flying by me, this one coming way too close to my head for comfort.

  Jinx didn’t respond to my words. Instead, his brow furrowed in concentration, and I felt an attack of vertigo coming on.

  “Are you trying to force us to switch bodies?” I asked.

  “Maybe.”

  I know it sounds weird, but I’d never loved that lunatic more than I did at that moment. He knew I’d have a better chance of survival if I were in his body instead of my own.

  “Thanks, but don’t.”

  The sensation of dizziness continued to grow stronger.

  “Seriously,” I said, in my you-really-don’t-want-to-piss-me-off voice.

  The vertigo continued for several more seconds before lessening and then going away altogether.

  Jinx sighed.

  “If you were a real friend, you wouldn’t stop me from stealing your body.”

  “Yeah, I can be a real bitch sometimes.”

  The shards stopped coming, and at first I didn’t understand why. But then I realized the fire from Jinx’s Molotov cocktail had almost burned itself out, and the remaining motorcycle light was dimming. What little protection we had from the Darkuns would soon be gone, and they’d be free to attack. I could hear the scrape and scuttle of claws as the Darkuns drew closer, along with excited breathing that made me think of hungry, eager wolves. The air around us grew cold, and I could see our breath mist the air. We had only moments left, and I searched for some profound and touching final words to say to Jinx, the nightmare creature I’d inadvertently created and who had become the best friend I’d ever had.

  “This blows,” I said.

  “Hard,” Jinx agreed.

  The Darkuns edged closer.

  “You know, we don’t have to stand here and wait for them to come at us,” Jinx said.

  “That’s true.”

  “We could take the fight to them.”

  “We could,” I said. “It wouldn’t last long.”

  “Maybe not.” His red lips stretched into a slow, scary smile. “But at least we’d go out on our terms.”

  “Something to be said for that,” I admitted.

  Jinx looked at me. He was grinning, and wild mad light glimmered in his eyes.

  “On the count of three?”

  I nodded. “One.”

  “Two…”

  I was about to say three, had the tip of my tongue pressed against my two front teeth to make the TH sound, when twin beams of green light cut through the darkness. The Darkuns surrounding us shrieked in terror and agony as their ebon substance began to sizzle and smoke in the beams’ unforgiving glare. They fled in all directions as the sound of a powerful but finely tuned engine filled the air, and a moment later a sleek black vehicle pulled up to the wrecked motorcycle and stopped, engine still running. It was a hearse, but not just any hearse. This was the Deathmobile in its Night Aspec
t, and, while it was an eerie sight with its unearthly green headlights and spectral wraiths that hovered over its roof, I can honestly say that I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

  The driver’s side window rolled down and Connie Desposito grinned at us.

  “You two need a ride?” she asked.

  “We were about to commit a spectacularly futile double suicide,” Jinx said, pouting.

  “I’ll try to find a way to make it up to you,” I told him. “When this is over, I’ll take you to visit the body farm of your choice.”

  That perked him right up. “Really? Can we go to the Forensic Anthropology Research Facility at Texas State University? It’s supposed to be the largest in the world!”

  “Why not?”

  Jinx whooped with joy as we walked around to the Deathmobile’s passenger side, and I opened the door so we could climb in. I looked into the hearse and saw that the Fata Morgana, in her guise as Dr Cecelia Kauffman, sat next to Connie. She smiled sweetly at us.

  Jinx looked at me.

  “There’s still time to kill ourselves.”

  I scowled at him.

  He shrugged. “Just saying.”

  Twelve

  The Deathmobile roared over the Murk’s rough terrain, but the ride was unearthly smooth. In its Day Aspect, the Deathmobile would’ve been shaken to bits by driving over the uneven ground, but its Night Aspect had no problems. Its green headlights – which possessed the ability to rapidly age whatever they touched – kept the Darkuns away for the most part, and, if any still tried to attack us, the Deathmobile’s wraiths drove them off.

  The Fata Morgana and I sat in the front with Connie, while Jinx took the back seat.

  Connie kept a first aid kit in the Deathmobile, and she gave it to me so I could bandage my shoulder, which I’d done. I hadn’t said anything to Jinx, but I’d been afraid the Darkuns’ substance might be poison, but I felt fine, so I figured I was in the clear on that score.

  “What happened to you after the fight in Wet Dreams?” I asked the Fata Morgana.

  She frowned. “Nothing happened. I merely went to the restroom. When I came out, you and your friends were gone, and without as much as saying goodbye, I might add.”

  I then asked Connie how she’d known where to find us. “For that matter, how did you know we needed finding?”

  The Fata Morgana was the one who answered me, though.

  “Russell sent me a telepathic message. I imagined he contacted me because he assumed I’d be the only one capable of receiving it. Even with my powers diminished, I still possess my sensory abilities.” She pursed her lips in irritation. “More or less.”

  “She then called me,” Connie said. “It was close to dawn by that point, but the Deathmobile and I swung by Wet Dreams to pick her up, and DM was able to locate a Door large enough for us to pass through just as the sun began to rise. We barely made it through in time.”

  The Fata Morgana continued. “The Thresholders helped him contact me, using whatever arcane powers they possess. Russell said the two of you were in Deadlock and needed help.”

  Connie picked up the story at that point. “Once we were in Nod, the Deathmobile hauled ass to the Rimline. At first I didn’t think she would be able to get through, but the wraiths formed a shell of ghostly energy around her, and that did the trick. Once we were inside the Murk, the Deathmobile caught your scent, and we made straight for Deadlock.”

  “Sorry,” Jinx said. “That’s all me. Sometimes it’s hard for a clown to maintain his freshness on the run, if you know what I mean.”

  “You’ve been spending entirely too much time in my body,” I said.

  Both Connie and the Fata Morgana gave me a strange look.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I said.

  “You’re still Blending?” the Fata Morgana asked.

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “It’s been getting worse, even with the medicine we got at the Sick House.”

  The Fata Morgana frowned. “That’s odd. If you’re undergoing treatment, your condition should be improving. Maybe it’ll just take a bit more time.” She seemed doubtful, though.

  “I understand why Russell might’ve thought you’d be the only one to pick up his weak signal,” I said. “But why did you call Connie, and, for that matter, why did you accompany her? It’s not as if Jinx and I are your favorite people.”

  “Frankly, I did it to amuse myself,” the Fata Morgana said. “It’s awfully boring being stuck in my Day Aspect all the time. Besides, this way I’ll be present when you and Jinx eventually make a mistake. And, with any luck, you’ll both die horribly in the process.”

  “I hate to be the one who brings up the whole logic thing,” Jinx said, “especially when I don’t use the stuff much myself. But what you said doesn’t make any sense. If you wanted us dead, you only had to keep from calling Connie. And, even if you came along with her because you wanted to watch us die, you had an excellent opportunity to do so outside Deadlock, when the Darkuns were about to get us.”

  Every once in a while, Jinx’s brain fires on all cylinders, and it looked like now was one of those times.

  “And don’t tell us you couldn’t stop Connie from saving us from the Darkuns,” I added. “I’m sure a wily bitch like you could’ve found a way to trick her into hesitating before rescuing us, at least long enough for the Darkuns to tear us into bloody bits of confetti.”

  A haughty – okay, haughtier – expression came over the Fata Morgana’s face, and for a moment I thought she was going to deny it. But then she lowered her head, as if defeated.

  “Fine. Connie, show her your arm. Either one will do.”

  Puzzled, I looked at Connie. She was wearing a long-sleeved sweater and I couldn’t see her arm. She took a hand off the wheel – not that the Deathmobile needed a driver – and pushed up the sleeve on her other arm to reveal clear, unmarked skin. A cold chill ran through me at the sight.

  “What happened to your tattoos, Connie?” I asked.

  “Not you too!” Connie said. “The Fata Morgana tried to tell me I had tattoos – a lot of them. But I don’t have a single tat on my body and no, I’m not going to strip naked just to prove it to you. Sure, I’ve thought about getting tattooed. I had this idea for getting a racetrack inked all over my body, and then having all kinds of cool cars driving around on it.” She shrugged. “But I never found the time, you know?”

  “Another excision,” I said softly.

  “Is that what you’re calling them?” the Fata Morgana said. She considered a moment. “Not a bad name, actually.”

  “So you’re aware of them, too,” I said.

  “Of course. As I said before, I may be greatly diminished in power, but I am still a Lord. Before you ask, I have no more idea what’s causing them than you do. That’s the real reason I accompanied Connie. Whatever’s happening, we need to do something about it.”

  “What do you mean, we?” I asked. “With any luck, Sanderson and the Watch M-gineers –”

  “Who are they?” Connie said.

  I felt suddenly ill.

  “You’re kidding.” I turned to the Fata Morgana. “Please tell me she’s kidding.”

  “It’s true. Sanderson and the Shadow Watch are gone.”

  My mind reeled. “If the Watch is gone, does the Rookery still exist? If it doesn’t…”

  The upper level of the Rookery housed the Unwakened, the master dreamers who maintained Nod and protected it from the turbulent energies of the Maelstrom. They also maintained the Canopy, as well as the conditions that permitted life to exist in Nod: gravity, atmosphere, the whole bit, synthesizing them all from the Maelstrom itself. If the Unwakened were gone, if they’d been excised, then it was only a matter of time before the Maelstrom rushed in to reclaim Nod, destroying everyone and everything in it.

  “Of course the Rookery still exists,” Connie said. “That’s where the Unwakened are. It’s where they’ve always been.”

  Relief washed over me
. So the Shadow Watch was gone, but the Rookery and the Unwakened had been spared. For the time being, at least.

  Jinx frowned at the Fata Morgana. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you try to destroy both Earth and Nod’s dimensions not that long ago? I may be insane, but my memory works just fine.”

  “The Lords don’t want to destroy anything,” she said. “We want to provide complete access to the Maelstrom for all beings, so they’re free to shape reality as they wish. You can’t shape what doesn’t exist.”

  “What about the other Lords?” I asked. “If they’re aware of the excisions too, maybe they can stop them.”

  I was still reeling from knowing that the Shadow Watch no longer existed, and had in a sense never existed. It seemed Jinx and I were the only two Shadow Watch officers left. But, if everyone else in the Watch had been excised, how come we were still here?

  “The Lords are a force of chaos,” the Fata Morgana said. “We don’t exactly work well together. I’m sure the Lords – those who still exist, anyway – are working as individuals to try to determine what’s happening and reverse it. I’d be doing the same if I still possessed my full power. Since I don’t, I’m forced to rely on you two.”

  “I’m surprised,” I said. “Considering how badly we kicked your sorry ass before, I’d think we’d be the last people you’d want to work with.”

  “Make no mistake. I hate you two, and nothing would bring me greater joy than to kill both of you as slowly and painfully as I could.”

  Jinx leaned over the front seat and kissed her on the cheek.

  “You say the sweetest things.”

  She elbowed him in the jaw, but he just laughed as he sat back.

  “I decided that if you two could defeat me,” she said, “then you’re my best bet to stop the excisions. I don’t have to like you to work with you.” She paused. “Come to think of it, I don’t like anyone.”

  I sighed. I really wasn’t up for saving the world – worlds – again, but it looked as if I didn’t have much choice.