“Sure,” Awan said, noticing light in the eastern sky. “Better be quick.”
Daniel hopped into the Jeep and the other two watched through the windows as he opened his satchel and emptied a few vials and instruments onto the seat next to him. He used a syringe to extract material from the vial of Caller residual, and injected it into another small dark jar. Then he began adding more liquid and powder from other vials.
“I could never get the hang of that stuff,” Awan muttered as they watched.
“What stuff?” Winn asked.
“You know, mixing stuff. Powders and compounds. Like a foreign language to me.”
“What do you concentrate on?” Winn asked. “Anything?”
“No,” Awan replied. “I’m a generalist, I guess. Nothing seemed to jump out at me.”
“Not time? Or Callers? Or something Native?”
“Nope,” Awan said, turning from the window and taking a couple of steps from the Jeep. “Nothing in particular. It’s all interesting, but I don’t know a lot about any one thing. You, on the other hand…”
“I’m a generalist like you,” Winn said, still watching Daniel moving slowly, deliberately inside the car. “No one thing.”
“Except vortexes,” Awan said.
“What do you mean?” Winn asked.
“You have an interest in them, don’t you? It makes sense you would, that whole thing with your friend when you were young.”
“They intrigue me,” Winn answered, “but I’ve never studied them or anything.”
“You’d like to become one someday,” Awan said calmly.
Winn turned to look at him. “You’re creeping me out a little, Awan.”
The corners of Awan’s mouth, normally thin and straight, curled up slightly. “Just something I thought I picked up.”
“Stay out of my mind,” Winn said. “You don’t want to be poking around in there. Lots of weird shit.”
“Wasn’t poking around,” Awan replied. “Just a sense I got when you told your story about the vorghost and what’s missing in you. But now I’m intrigued about your mind. Sounds interesting.”
Light was beginning to wash across the valley as the sun, still minutes from rising over the mountain in the east, lit the sky to a dim blue. They heard a yelp from inside the Jeep, and Winn returned his attention to the windows. Inside, Daniel was lying back in the seat, his body convulsing. Something was pressing out of his chest, a large, round mass that was causing the cloth of his shirt to bulge up strangely.
“What the fuck?” Winn said, staring through the window.
“The syringe,” Awan said, pointing. “See the syringe in his arm?”
Winn dropped his gaze from Daniel’s chest to his bare arm, where the needle from a syringe was dangling, almost bouncing free. Inside the syringe was an inch of glowing blue fluid.
“He didn’t get it all in before…” Awan said.
“Before what?” Winn asked.
“Before whatever’s trying to come out of him started to come out!”
Winn opened the door to the Jeep and rushed inside, reaching for the syringe. He grabbed it, pushing it more deeply into Daniel’s arm so it wouldn’t dislodge. He pressed on the plunger.
At first Winn thought the terrifying growl he heard was somehow coming from Daniel’s throat, but he quickly realized it was from the large, curved object trying to rise out of Daniel’s chest. The cloth of Daniel’s shirt was tightly stretched over what looked like a bowling ball or the top of another person’s head. As he emptied the last of the syringe’s contents into Daniel’s arm, features began to form through the stretched cloth of Daniel’s shirt; strange, twisted features that weren’t human. A round depression formed in the cloth surface, bending inward as if pulled by breath.
A mouth, Winn thought instinctively, horrified at what might be emerging. He pulled the needle from the man’s arm and reached up to slap at Daniel’s face, trying to revive him. “Daniel!” he shouted, his hand repeatedly hitting the man’s cheeks, hoping for a reaction.
The mound pressing out of Daniel’s chest began to twist and move, stretching upward as if a long neck below it was pushing it out. It slid along Winn’s arm, and he felt the depression in the cloth against his elbow.
Winn moved out of the seat, away from the rising head. He reached in to slap at Daniel’s face, hoping to bring him back to consciousness. As he watched, the bulge in Daniel’s shirt began to slowly recede, the features becoming less distinct as the stretched cloth loosened.
Once it had disappeared entirely, Daniel’s eyes fluttered open.
“I blacked out,” Daniel muttered, looking around him. “I was injecting myself, and I blacked out.”
“Something was trying to come out of your chest!” Winn said, pointing at Daniel’s shirt.
The first streak of light crested over the ridge of the mountain and direct sunlight began to fall into the valley.
“Close,” Daniel said. “I thought I had more time, but I must have misjudged it.”
“I found the syringe in your arm,” Winn said, “only half used. I pumped the rest of it into you.”
“You saved my life!” Daniel said, reaching out to grab Winn’s arm. “If you hadn’t done that, I’d be gone!”
As Winn helped Daniel from the Jeep, he considered Daniel’s thanks. He might have been gone, he thought, but something else would have been here, instead. The three men stood in the desert as the sun began to rise.
“How do you feel?” Winn asked Daniel.
“Fine, just tired,” Daniel replied.
“What was coming out of you?” Winn asked, still concerned.
“I’m starving,” Daniel replied. “Literally. Can we get something to eat, quick? I’ll explain, but I need some food.”
“I wouldn’t mind breakfast,” Awan said. “I’m pretty hungry.”
“Let’s drive back into Mesquite and get something,” Winn suggested. “Then we’ll get you back to Indian Springs and your car.”
They piled into the Jeep. Daniel filled his satchel up with the items he’d removed, and they drove north.
Chapter Six
Awan and Daniel pounded pancakes as Winn sipped slowly at coffee.
“These are really good,” Awan said. “Sure you don’t want any?”
“Not feeling the pancake thing,” Winn replied. “Carma loaded me up on croissants yesterday and I’m carbed out. Might do some eggs in a bit.”
“They are good,” Daniel echoed, wolfing down a stack.
“You sure you’re OK?” Winn asked. “You’re eating those pancakes like a madman.”
Daniel stopped and placed his fork down. “You’re right,” he replied. “Side effect. I need to slow down.”
Daniel paused, seeming to be carried away by another thought.
“What was trying to come out of you?” Winn asked.
“Did something try to come out?” Daniel asked. “Oh, that’s right, you said it did. Sorry, my memory is a little off; I feel like the last hour has been a blur.”
“Where did you go?” Awan asked. “Why didn’t you finish the injection?”
“The timeslip had cycled back,” Daniel required. “Time was up. Without the compound in my system, I wouldn’t have been able to stop it from pulling me into its differential. I’d have been permanently gone.”
Awan looked at Winn. “You?”
“Nah,” Winn replied, and turned to Daniel. “You realize that didn’t make any sense to either of us, right?”
Daniel picked his fork back up and began to cut off a small piece of pancake. “Jargon,” he said. “Sorry.”
“Are we talking about the same differential as the symbols?” Winn asked.
“No,” Daniel replied. “I had performed a demonstration at our presentation back at the hotel in Tonopah for a couple of other enthusiasts. I was sure I had enough compound to counter the cycleback, but I realized I made a mistake…”
“Cycleback?” Awan asked.
&nb
sp; Daniel took a deep break. “It’s a little complicated.”
“Try me,” Awan answered.
“OK,” Daniel said, holding his fork in the air with a piece of pancake on the end. “The theory is that there’s an infinite number of universes playing out in parallel with the one we’re in right now. In those other universes, every possible difference occurs. There’s one where I fell over with a heart attack ten seconds ago. There’s one where a man runs into the diner and gives you a million dollars. Every possible thing you can imagine. You with me?”
“A little hard to conceptualize,” Winn replied. “But OK.”
“Alright,” Daniel continued. “Well, you know there’s a little gathering of time enthusiasts back at the hotel. That’s why I’m down here from Spokane.”
“Yes,” Winn answered.
“Well, I had given them a demonstration of a technique I use to initiate a timeslip, which is a way to move temporarily from this universe to one of the other parallel universes and back again.”
“No way,” Awan said. “You’re bullshitting us.”
“No, it works, I promise you,” Daniel said. “For a brief moment you get to see the target universe, then you come back.”
“Fuck me!” Winn said. “That’s unbelievable!”
“How do you do it?” Awan asked.
“It’s kind of like a slingshot,” Daniel replied. “You know in space movies when they use the gravitational force of a planet to slingshot their ship to a new speed and direction? It’s kind of like that. It starts a cycle that’s like a boomerang; it speeds out to the target, slows down as it turns around, and then comes back.”
“So back in Tonopah you went to an alternative universe?” Awan asked. “Like Fringe?”
“Not quite,” Daniel responded, smiling, and sticking the pancake into his mouth. “It’s not some place I can stay, or even get much in the way of bearings. I get a glimpse, then I’m pulled back. And keep in mind, it’s one of an infinite number of parallel universes; what’s there can be completely chaotic or mind-bending. For example, what if five seconds from now the building blows up? Or we all liquefy into puddles? Or a gigantic prehistoric creature breaks down the door and devours us? Every possible series of events exists out there, as wild as you can imagine. More than you can imagine.”
“Why do you do it, then?” Awan asked.
“To prove he can,” Winn answered.
“Exactly,” Daniel replied.
“So what was going on back in the Jeep?” Winn asked.
“The way this works is, I return to the universe I started from, which I did of course, but the momentum of the cycle continues, slowed down. It takes about ten hours to cycle back, but when it does, it tries to pick you back up and carry you onward. As long as you inject the compound prior to the cycle’s return, it stops the momentum of the cycle completely when it arrives, and you’re safe.”
“And you found out you didn’t have any compound?” Awan asked.
“That’s why I was desperate,” Daniel replied, eating more pancake. “Once I realized I’d made a mistake, I had to do something. I knew I had some Caller residual back in Spokane, but I didn’t think I could make it home in time. My best option was to make some. When I saw someone selling it just an hour away, I thought I’d try to buy it from them. That’s when you two showed up.”
“But what was coming out of your chest?” Winn asked.
“What did it look like?” Daniel asked.
“It was a head, or a face,” Winn replied, “but not like an animal or human face. It was twisted.”
“A hitchhiker,” Daniel muttered. “It found the active cycle and followed it. They have a habit of latching onto things trying to ride between differentials.”
“A monster?” Awan asked.
“Possibly,” Daniel replied. “Some are attracted to the variances created by the timeslip, and like to feed off it. Others are trying to ride the cycle with you, to get somewhere.”
“So you would have been gone,” Winn said, “and that thing would have been here instead?”
“The cycle would have taken me into the timeslip, but picking me up would have slowed it down dramatically,” Daniel replied. “I would have never reached another universe. I would have been slowly dragged along forever between this one and who knows what. My body would have gone into a coma.”
“And the monster?” Winn asked.
“It would have emerged and stayed here, I guess,” Daniel replied.
“Sounds dangerous,” Awan said.
“No, I’ve done it many times, this was the only fuck up,” Daniel replied.
“No, I mean bringing these hitchhikers into our world,” Awan replied. “Who knows what it might have been, or have done.”
“Add it to the lot,” Daniel replied dismissively, taking another bite.
“The lot?” Winn asked.
“All the crap that The Dark River brings into existence,” Daniel replied. “The evil they produce far exceeds any threat these hitchhikers might present. Most of them die the moment they arrive, anyway.”
Winn looked at Awan. “Dark River?” he asked Awan.
“I’m not gonna talk about that,” Awan said, looking down at his plate of food uncomfortably. “Moving on.”
“Wait, you know what he’s talking about?” Winn asked Awan. “A Dark River?”
“Not gonna talk about it,” Awan said, stabbing at his food.
“Why not?”
Awan placed a forkful of pancake into his mouth and began to chew, not responding.
“Many people don’t talk about The Dark River,” Daniel said to Winn. “Verboten. Sometimes it’s a cultural thing.”
“We’re very familiar with the evils certain cultures inflict upon others,” Awan said. “That’s plenty for me.”
“Let me guess, your parents warned you to never talk about it, right?” Daniel asked.
Awan began to look perturbed. “So what if they did? I’ve done pretty well following the advice of my parents.”
“I’m not saying you haven’t,” Daniel replied. “Just pointing out that fear of it is something that’s taught.”
Winn could see that Awan’s body was completely tensed up. “I’m fine with talking about something else,” Winn said, Awan relaxing considerably in response. “That device you mentioned, Daniel…the one that could help translate the symbols?”
“Yes?” Daniel asked.
“Do you still have the picture on your phone?”
Daniel dug in his pocket, pulling out his phone and swiping through it until he located the image he’d shown Winn earlier on their drive to Mesquite. Winn took the phone and studied it.
“It’s so familiar,” Winn said. “I know I’ve seen something like this before, I just can’t place it. These pictures are so fragmentary…it’s like I’m looking at pieces of a puzzle unassembled.”
“Well, keep in mind the images you’re looking at are of a salvaged mechanism that sat at the bottom of the ocean for two thousand years,” Daniel said. “It’s hard to conceive of how it must have looked before it became so deteriorated. But, I think…” He gestured for Winn to hand the phone back.
Winn passed the phone and Daniel began swiping and typing. Eventually he turned the phone back around, showing Winn a new image.
“Here’s an artist’s attempt to show what they think the entire mechanism looked like before it was ruined,” Daniel said. “Of course it’s just a guess.”
Winn’s face lit up as he examined the image. “I know!” he said, rising out of his chair so quickly he bumped the table, causing the dishes to shake.
“Whoa!” Awan replied. “Sit back down for a second. What do you know?”
Winn forced himself to lower into his chair. “I know where I’ve seen it before! This device!”
“Where?” Daniel asked, surprised.
“Deem’s house!” Winn replied. “There was one sitting on the mantel in her living room!”
▪ ▪ ▪
Winn slipped the key from the lock and replaced it in the hide-a-key tucked behind a planter. He pushed the back door open, and the three of them slipped inside Deem’s house.
“Anyone home?” Winn called, walking into the kitchen. His voice echoed through the house. “Margie? Virginia?”
“You knocked for five minutes before we came in,” Daniel said. “I doubt anyone’s here.”
“Just makes me a little nervous walking in like this,” Winn said. “Deem’s mother was never my biggest fan.”
“Hello? Anyone home?” Awan called loudly as they walked out of the kitchen, his voice bouncing from the walls.
“No table,” Winn observed, looking at the spot where the dining room table once stood. “Oh, no…”
Winn rounded the corner into the living room. Depressions in the carpet marked the spot where the sofas, coffee tables, and hutches had previously stood.
“No!” Winn repeated, walking to the mantle above the fireplace. “It was right here!”
“Were they robbed?” Daniel asked, looking around.
“Moved out, I’d say,” Awan replied.
“Come on, help me search the rest of the house,” Winn said, starting for the staircase. “Check each room carefully!”
They spread out, moving through the residence, inspecting everywhere. Soon Winn met Daniel again in the living room. Daniel raised his arms and shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Last time we were here was, what, two, three months ago?” Winn thought back. “David and I were in the basement, and Deem was acting as bait upstairs. All the furniture was still here. But her mother wasn’t — that’s right, she’d gone to spend time with her sister in Arizona. With Deem not living here anymore, she must have decided to move her things out. Shit! That device is probably in Arizona now.”
“Maybe not,” Awan said, walking in from the kitchen with a piece of paper in his hands. “Look.”
Awan handed the blue paper to Winn. “St. George Moving and Storage,” Winn read aloud, his eyes dancing over the NCR form. “It’s a moving receipt, dated six weeks ago. They scribbled a note at the bottom.”
The Massacre Mechanism (The Downwinders Book 5) Page 6
