Dream Stalkers

by Tim Waggoner

  “You might understand the basic concept of our plan,” Withrow said, giving Jinx a withering look, “but you cannot conceive of the glory that is to come.” A look of regret crossed her face, and she sighed. “I only wish I could witness it.”

  “That sounds rather ominous,” I said.

  “The presence of other minds only interferes with the Wakener’s work,” Withrow said. “In the end, there can only be the Wakener and the Dreamer. And so I must depart.”

  Menendez stepped forward and embraced her. They held each other for a long moment, and, when they broke apart, he said, “You shall be restored in the world to come, I promise you.”

  She reached up to touch his cheek. Tears glistened in her eyes, but she smiled bravely. “I know.”

  Menendez then snapped his fingers and Withrow was gone, just like that.

  He continued to look at the empty space she’d occupied.

  “I’m going to miss her,” he said. “At least, this version of her.”

  “How did you manage that nifty little trick?” I tried to sound nonchalant, but inside I was on the verge of pissing myself with terror. If Menendez had already somehow gained the Dreamer’s power, we were well and truly fucked.

  “It took quite some doing, but I’ve implanted a number of hypnotic commands in the Dreamer’s subconscious,” Menendez said. “Each has a corresponding trigger to activate it.”

  “I’m bored,” Jinx said. “Can I stomp him now?”

  “Not yet.” We needed to learn as much as we could about Menendez’s hold on the Dreamer if we were to have any chance of breaking it. Besides, if we did try to rush him, he might well activate one of his “commands” and cause the Dreamer to excise us from reality, just as he’d done with Withrow. When you’re up against someone who’s hijacked God’s power, the direct approach won’t work. You have to get sneaky.

  I walked over to the Dreamer and gazed down at him. Menendez joined me, not hurrying, but not taking his time, either.

  “Our talking doesn’t seem to bother him,” I said.

  “He’s been asleep for billions of years,” Menendez said. “If he were that easy to wake, he would’ve done so long before now.”

  The others came over and joined us.

  “How did you manage to get through to him?” Russell asked.

  “I’m a Somnacologist,” Menendez said. “Just as you and Audra were born Ideators, I was born with my abilities, which are primarily psychic in nature. When it comes to M-consciousness – the part of all beings that’s connected to the Maelstrom – I’m like a master musician playing a relatively simple instrument. But reaching this consciousness” – he gestured to the Dreamer – “took all my knowledge and power. Now the Dreamer is on the verge of consciousness, but there’s still one problem remaining. Or, I should say, four problems.”

  “Hey, he means us!” Jinx said.

  “Indeed,” Menendez confirmed. “Melody and Trauma Doll had already managed to infiltrate the Shadow Watch and get themselves assigned as your trainees. But after what happened with Montrose, I decided that I should take a more direct hand in dealing with you. And when I realized the two of you were Blending…”

  “You gave us drugs that made the condition worse, not better,” I said.

  Menendez smiled. “Yes. I’d hoped that your Blending would become such a distraction that Melody and Trauma Doll – and the Discarnate assassins they hosted – would be able to eliminate you without much trouble. But when it became clear that wasn’t going to happen, I tried to get the Dreamer to remove the two of you from reality on numerous occasions.”

  “You did?” I said. “We weren’t aware of it.”

  “That’s because none of the attempts were successful. I couldn’t figure out why you were immune to the Dreamer’s power. At first I thought that the Dreamer, for whatever subconscious reasons, was protecting you. Now I think it may be because you were exposed to some kind of energy I’m unfamiliar with. I can sense it on you – all four of you, as a matter of fact. I’d love to study it further, but I am going to be terribly busy recreating the universe.”

  I assumed he was referring to the energy from Between. Russell and Bloodshedder had had far more exposure than I, so they were immune to the Dreamer’s power. And Russell had kept me in the Between to speak with me in private, and then Jinx and I both got a dose of the Between’s energy when the Thresholders opened a portal to rescue Russell. That would explain why Russell and I – and later Jinx – were aware of the excisions when no one else was, and why eventually we could remember them.

  “Once you discovered we were immune to the Dreamer’s power, you realized we were a much bigger threat than you could ever have imagined,” I said. “And, since you couldn’t use the Dreamer directly against us, you used him indirectly. You used his powers to excise the negator collars, the lights in Deadlock, and the Shadow Watch, all in attempts to stop us. And of course you had Melody and Trauma Doll – and their other selves – try to kill us along the way. And you armed them with special weapons to give them an edge over us. I assume the null guns were something you had the First Dreamer whip up for you. Too bad the damn things were so fragile.”

  “Melody and Trauma Doll were stupid enough to lure us to the Sick House and try to kill us there,” Jinx said. “If they hadn’t done that, we might never have figured out what was going on.” He shook his head. “Dumbasses.”

  Menendez scowled. “Yes, well, good help is hard to find and all that. But enough talk. I’ve enjoyed our conversation, but as I said, I have a great deal of work to do so…”

  He clapped twice and the four of us were suddenly enclosed within a large cage formed of solidified M-energy. It was virtually indestructible, so of course we all had to attempt to destroy it. I blasted the bars, ceiling, and floor with my trancer. Jinx pounded on them with his hammer. Russell used his arm, and Bloodshedder employed her teeth, claws, and tail. Our efforts got us exactly zilch.

  Menendez stood by and watched our pathetic attempts to escape with an expression of mild disdain. When we finally got it through our heads that we weren’t going to muscle our way out of the cage, we settled down and Menendez smiled.

  “Feel better?”

  “Fuck you,” I said.

  His smile widened. “I’ll take that as a yes. Now perhaps we can get on with things.”

  “Get on with this, asshole,” Jinx said. When his clothing had been restored by the influx of unshielded Maelstrom energy, he’d also received a new boutonniere. He now angled the left side of his chest toward Menendez, and a stream of liquid shot from the plastic flower, arced between the bars of the cage, and struck Menendez in the face. Menendez sputtered and wiped his eyes, but he remained unharmed. He spat a couple times and said, “This tastes awful! What is it? Some kind of acid, I assume.”

  Jinx frowned, touched his finger to the center of the flower, then quickly drew it away with a hiss of pain.

  “I don’t get it,” he said. “The acid works.”

  “Not on me, I’m afraid,” Menendez said. “When I learned how to influence the First Dreamer, the first thing I had him do was make me impervious to any kind of harm. Just in case someone like you four showed up to try to stop me.”

  “You know something?” Jinx said. “You’re a devious bastard. I respect that.”

  Menendez bowed his head, as if accepting a compliment.

  “So we’re at a stalemate,” Russell said. “We can’t hurt you, but you can’t hurt us.”

  “Not true,” Menendez said. “The First Dreamer can’t – or won’t – do anything to harm you. But I still can.”

  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a 9mm pistol. He didn’t aim it at us, but switched the safety off and held the gun at his side.

  “A bullet will kill you and Audra as easily as it ever would. And, while I might not have enough ammunition to do any lasting damage to your Incubi, the psychic shock of your deaths would incapacitate them for some time. But I’m hoping
it won’t come to that.”

  “Why are you even talking to us?” I said. “You have us trapped. We can’t hurt you or interfere with you in any way. Why not just reshape reality and be done with it?” I paused as realization set in. “Wait a minute. It’s because you can’t, isn’t it?”

  Menendez’s face clouded with anger, but he didn’t deny it, so I went on.

  “Sure, you like to hear yourself talk, but even an egomaniac like you wouldn’t be talking this much if you truly had the upper hand. You’d simply make us witness your glorious triumph as you directed the First Dreamer to rewrite Existence to suit yourself. Since you clearly aren’t doing that, it can only mean that, for some reason, you can’t. And since you are talking to us–”

  “He thinks there’s some way we can help him,” Russell said.

  “He did say he was happy to see us when we got here,” Jinx added.

  Menendez glared at us for a moment, but then his anger drained away and he looked embarrassed.

  “It’s true,” he said. “I have encountered an… unexpected setback. I’ve been able to influence the First Dreamer to the point where he is essentially no longer dreaming. But, no matter what I do, I cannot get him to wake all the way and relinquish control of the Maelstrom to me.”

  “So he won’t let you play with his toys,” Jinx said. “What a meanie.”

  “Yes,” Menendez said, shooting the Dreamer a dark glance.

  “I don’t know how in hell we could possibly help you,” I said, “but, even if we could, we wouldn’t.”

  Menendez looked at me once more. “Are you certain? Reality as we knew it is gone. Both Earth’s dimension and Nod’s are no more. All that remains is the Idyllon and the Maelstrom.”

  “And the Threshold,” Russell whispered, but so softly that I don’t think Menendez heard him.

  “Regardless of whether you approve of what I’ve done or what I plan to do, right now there is nothing. Nothing! I need access to the First Dreamer’s mind in order to take control of the Maelstrom and bring a new reality into existence. I could tell you that it will be a far better reality than the one we had, as much like a paradise as I can possibly make it, but, in the end, isn’t any reality better than none at all?”

  “If you leave the Dreamer alone, won’t he just fall back into a deeper sleep and begin dreaming once more?” I asked. “Reality would begin again on its own.”

  “As I said earlier, I’ve brought the Dreamer to a near waking state, but, now that he’s there, he seems to be stuck. I can’t wake him fully, nor can I return him to deep sleep.”

  I wondered if Menendez was only telling half the truth. I had no doubt that he was unable to completely rouse the Dreamer on his own. But had he really tried to put him all the way back to sleep? I doubted it. Menendez wanted power, ultimate power, and he wouldn’t give up on obtaining it – not when he was so close.

  “So where do we come in?” Russell said.

  “We don’t,” Menendez said. “You do.”

  Russell frowned, and Bloodshedder growled, low and dangerous.

  “It’s because of the… strange energy in us.” I didn’t know if Menendez knew about the Thresholders, but I didn’t want to say their name in case he didn’t. “It somehow blocks the Dreamer’s power. You want to use it against the Dreamer to weaken him so you can break his hold on the Maelstrom and take control of it yourself.”

  Menendez smiled at me. “You’re more intelligent than I thought, Audra. Bravo.” He looked at Russell. “I don’t know why, but you have more of this energy in your body than the others, even your dog.” His eyes narrowed. “At first I thought it had something to do with that arm of yours – fascinating thing, by the way – but I can see it’s fashioned entirely from M-energy. This other energy is actually a part of you on the molecular level. It’s very strange.” He smiled. “But oh so very useful.”

  “I’m not going to help you,” Russell said. “There has to be another way to restart reality other than letting you drive the bus.”

  “I was afraid you’d feel like that.”

  Menendez raised his gun, aimed it at me, and fired.

  Fifteen

  The bullet slammed into my right shoulder, and the impact knocked me backward. I fell against the rear bars of the cage, staggered, but I didn’t fall. The trancer slipped from my right hand, which no longer seemed to want to grip anything, and I clapped my left hand to the wound to staunch the bleeding as best I could. First my goddamned ribs, and now this! It just wasn’t my day. The wound hurt like a bitch, but I was more angry than anything, and that anger helped me deal with the pain.

  Bloodshedder lost it. She threw herself against the bars, snarling and snapping. Jinx’s reaction was more restrained, but far deadlier. He pulled a pack of cards from his jacket – all jokers, of course – pinched them between his thumb and forefinger, and shot them between the bars. The cards had razor-sharp edges, and they flew toward Menendez like fifty-two flat but still quite deadly shuriken. But the cards lost momentum all at once and fell to the floor.

  Menendez grinned and raised the 9mm once more. “I have demonstrated that there is nothing you can do to hurt me. I have also demonstrated that I can hurt you any time I wish. So, Russell, if you do not allow me to use the energy in your body, I’ll put a bullet in Audra’s head in addition to the one already in her shoulder.”

  Jinx’s face became a mask of hatred that could’ve inspired a million nightmares. As I looked at him, I thought he started to crouch down, but then I realized what was happening. He was beginning to shrink. Reducing his size was one of his clown abilities. He’d once told me that’s how so many clowns were able to fit into those tiny cars they drive. Jinx was planning on shrinking to the point where he could pass between the bars and attack Menendez. In other circumstances, his plan might’ve worked, but, as Menendez had shown us, nothing we could do would hurt him. Even if Jinx got out of the cage, it wouldn’t do us any good.

  I stepped toward Jinx. My right arm hurt like hell, so I put my left hand on his shoulder to get his attention. That hand was covered with blood, and it soaked into Jinx’s coat, but I didn’t care. Jinx looked at me, and I gave my head a slight shake. His shrinking paused, and then he slowly grew, regaining the couple inches he’d lost. He might not have realized why I wanted him to stop shrinking, but he trusted me enough to do as I asked, and that was all that mattered now.

  Menendez had been looking at Russell the entire time, and he hadn’t noticed my exchange with Jinx. That was good. I had no idea how or if Jinx’s shrinking might come in handy, but at least we had one weapon in our reserve.

  I looked at Russell then. He’d adopted a cold, almost cruel expression.

  “What makes you think I give a shit about her?” He said her as if it were an especially disgusting and painful venereal disease.

  Although I knew he was putting on an act, I still felt a twinge hearing him speak of me like that. After all, he was the closest thing to a boyfriend I had right then. But he’d worked for the Thresholders for years, and during most of that time he’d posed as a cold-blooded mercenary. He was highly skilled at pretending to be something he wasn’t, and I thought he had a good shot at fooling Menendez. But the doctor only chuckled.

  “Please! I’ve been observing all of you since you arrived. You and Audra may both repress the hell out of your feelings for one another, but only an idiot couldn’t see how much you truly care. So you can drop the act.”

  I could see the defeat in Russell’s eyes then. Menendez could hurt me, Bloodshedder, or Jinx. The 9mm wouldn’t do much to the Incubi, but I was certain Menendez had other dirty tricks up his sleeve. And Russell knew it, too. He should’ve refused to help Menendez, but I knew he would. If I’d been in his position, I’d have done the same.

  Russell let out a long sigh, and he almost seemed to wilt. “What do you need me to do?”

  A look of satisfaction came over Menendez’s face, and I wanted to punch him so bad.

 
; “Extend one of your hands through the bars, please.”

  Russell did so, and Menendez approached the cage. He tucked the 9mm back in his jacket pocket and removed a device that looked something like a tire pressure gauge.

  “This is a devitalizer,” Menendez said. “Somnacologists use it on patients who’ve developed an excess of M-energy. It should work for what I have in mind.”

  He touched one end of the device to the back of Russell’s hand and then pressed his thumb to the other end. There was a soft click, almost like the sound a ballpoint pen makes. But that was all. While the device’s operation wasn’t particularly impressive – no flashing lights, no electronic sounds – the effect on Russell was instantaneous and dramatic. He let out a deep moan, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his body fell limp. Bloodshedder yelped in alarm as he collapsed to the floor of the cage, and she rushed over to him and began frantically licking his face. He didn’t respond, though. I hurried to him, knelt as best I could, grimacing when both my ribs and shoulder complained. I took hold of his wrist to check for a pulse. He still had one, but it was weak.

  I tried to stand, but when I couldn’t manage it on my own, Jinx helped me.

  “What did you do to him?” I demanded. I didn’t bother trying to keep the fear and despair I felt out of my voice.

  “I drained that strange energy from his body,” Menendez said. “Most of it, anyway. But don’t worry. Once I create a new reality, I’ll make sure he’s whole and healthy once more.”

  “Sounds like you plan to be a benevolent God,” I said, in a bitter voice.

  Menendez didn’t catch my sarcasm, though. He walked over to the Dreamer, who was still sleeping peacefully on his bed of palm fronds.

  “I do. Far more benevolent than this child ever was.”