by Alan Osi
Not that Rob listened to logic. He still wanted to find the grail tattoo dude. The only thing that convinced him to leave was telling him that people were freaking out and the cops had to be coming soon. Which was probably true.
He argued with no one as we walked down the stars, or maybe bitched at Clyde and me. But, I wasn’t even listening. I was trying not to come unglued.
My heart sank when we got to the bottom of the staircase, a room full of people blocked the way to the door. It looked like everyone had the same idea as us, trying to leave. But, people kept falling down, collapsing like they passed out. I choked on panic, the feeling like I couldn’t stay here another second. Like we were standing on thin ice, and if it broke I’d never come back.
Then Rob went down. My fear went crazy because this was happening to all of us, and I knew that we’d stayed too long. But, then I saw a shape behind me, and a blur and impact and pain burned my shoulder. I fell forward and rolled to the ground, and my left arm felt useless.
It was some guy with a baseball bat. He was attacking Clyde, now. Off balance and swinging wild, his first swing missed. But, the second hit the arm Clyde had raised to protect his head, knocking his wrist against his temple. Clyde fell to the ground, screaming like the blow broke his wrist, and I could feel the crowd around me react to the sound, and everyone started moving at once, and I got to my feet and lunged at our attacker, ignoring sharp pain and cement in my arm. I had my butterfly knife on me. But, no time to get it out. Rob had a gun, of course. But, he was out cold. My only chance was throwing him off balance, getting the bat away from him, beating him bloody with my bare hands. Hoping he’d be the only one.
144. SHELLY
Detective Greene took point, of course, because we basically followed him on his kamikaze mission. This was not a team effort, not really. He would lead, and we would back him up. But, he didn’t give a shit about us. I heard cold static squawks coming from my radio, the ones that usually told us where to go, and when to enter or whether to withdraw. But, I couldn’t afford to listen or respond. I could only hope the others behind me were locked in.
Senses heightened, I watched my feet glide silently over the pavement, and Greene walking ahead of me, both his hands on his gun, held by his side and pointed down. I had mine out to, hunched in a slight crouch, ready for anything
I saw kids leaving the building, I got a real good look at them. They were the best indication of what we’d find inside: their body language, fear level, bearing, sophistication or lack thereof, their responses to us. They didn’t even seem to notice us. Everyone moved out of our way naturally, not so much because they were trying to avoid us. More, because each felt a pressing need to get out as fast as possible and took the path of least resistance to do so. Whatever went on inside terrified them so much, they didn’t have mental bandwidth left to even recognize we were here. Druggies oblivious to a police raid? Definitely a first, and a very bad sign.
Did Greene catch any of this? I doubted it. He should have at least signaled to me his awareness that the situation had possibly changed. But, of course, he didn’t look back.
I crossed the threshold of the metal fence surrounding the building. We were now on a short cement path up to the front door, flanked on either side by metal fence. For better or worse, the fencing created a bottleneck. The kids still flowed around me automatically. But, now occasionally one bumped me, because there was so little room. The ones that did, still didn’t seem to notice me. I was simply in the way.
Greene walked a few paces in front of me, and when he was about to reach the steps to the door, we heard the screams. One at first and then a whole chorus answered. I tightened the grip on my gun. Greene raised his, then lowered it, and started moving in faster. The flow of people coming out became a stampede. Greene got swallowed, I lost sight of him before the wave of people hit me. I got pushed into the steel fence and thrown over it, into overgrown weeds and broken glass, and God knows what else.
As I got to my feet, Greene raised his gun into the air and fired three times. The crowd screamed again, everyone ran full speed away from him in whatever direction they could. Anyone leaving the building ran back in, smack into the panicked party-goers running the other way. It was like watching two football teams collide at the line of scrimmage. People went down. Greene pushed his way in, screaming. I couldn’t hear what he was saying. The crowd swallowed him and surged toward me again, pushing to get out. I heard more screams from people getting trampled. Now I couldn’t get in, there was no way. I couldn’t even help the fallen, I could only hope they’d managed to get up before being stomped to death. The situation was beyond critical. I turned, ran through the glass and underbrush, jumped over the fence, and high-tailed it back to my car. Had to radio base, we had completely lost control.
But I didn’t make it.
145. HAILEY
Riding these railroads, I felt free. All the weights on my life, the worries holding me shackled, were gone. This was the beginning of the journey. But, I knew now, I felt down to my deepest inner core that this would be the path on which I would find my salvation.
There was something meditative in the rock of the train cab, in the rhythmic clicks and bangs the wheels made going over the track, in how the endless expanse of sky stretched on and on and on, while we tumbled under it, hurtling over America at our beautiful, lazy clip. Where would this train take me? I didn’t know. The others hanging out in this car didn’t know either. None of us needed to.
When I came back, it took a second for me to remember my name. I’d been on another moondust trip, and I lay face-down on the floor. My whole body hurt. This shit was really scary. I couldn’t even remember what I had been doing a second ago. It had seemed important.
It started coming back to me as I got back to my feet, because I could see Percival, right in front of me, fighting with someone.
They rolled on the floor, grappling for control of a baseball bat, writhing and kicking out, each trying to get on top of the other, trying to get the advantage. It looked like Percival was winning, he seemed a little stronger than the other dude. He fought his way on top and got one of the other guy’s hands off the bat. But, then the other guy punched Perce in the stomach and rolled him over, taking them back to square one.
Two bodies lay beside them, passed out from the looks of it. I hoped not dead. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that this situation called for urgency. But, I couldn’t quite muster it. My head hurt too much, the pain like smog.
What had my plan been? The device, the one designed to drop moondust on everyone. I was going to wait and see what happened, and if the situation got too intense, I would hit the, button. It would stop everyone in their tracks. And as long as I closed my eyes I would still be lucid. Then I could do what needed to be done.
But Perce looked like he might win. They were still fighting over the bat, I wondered if I should wait until Perce needed help. The moondust wouldn’t be instant, it would take a second to float around… But, there would be loud bangs when the bags broke, and moondust hit the fans. If I did it now who knew what would happen.
I didn’t get to spend very long in indecision, because gunshots sounded outside—three of them—everyone screamed; started running or hit the floor. People ran into each other, panicking, some trying to get out, and others trying to escape the gunfire outside. I looked to the door trying to figure out how to handle this, and I saw the gunman pushing through the crowd with his gun held high to avoid it being bumped and jostled. He was thick and broad and older, he shouted something, pushing kids aside with one meaty paw.
Enough. I hit the button, unleashed the moondust. The fans went on, the balloons popped, I crouched down and covered my eyes, and I prayed.
146. PERCIVAL
He had a weak arm, probably from when I wacked him with my second swing of the bat. I needed the advantage, because I couldn’t keep this up. There just wasn’t enough oxygen in the world.
So I pushed th
e bat toward him, a feint to get him pushing back, and when he did I reversed and pulled the left side of the bat toward me hard, twisting, trying to break his weakened grip. It worked, he only had one hand on it now. I was about to take the bat all for myself and end this. But, he punched me in the stomach. All of my wind gone, a deep, deep flash of pain. I wheezed, and he grabbed the bat and tried to wrench it away from me. I held on. We were back to a stalemate.
Even if I could get the bat away from his right hand, he’d just punch me again.
So we went right on wrestling that way. Neither of us could let go. I needed a few seconds to try to get some of that wind back for a second attempt of whatever it was I hoped to do.
A noise around us penetrated this struggle—popping sounds everywhere, like fireworks. He was startled, lost his focus. I guess we both did. But I recovered mine faster and tried my twisting motion again, only this time I completely broke the bat free of his grip. I’d won. One of my hands held each side of the bat, and before he could recover, I shoved the middle of it right into his forehead. He fell back, his head hit the floor with a thud. I got to my knees over him and raised the bat high, ready to bring it down on him. He cowered. I hesitated. This would smash his skull; I didn’t want to kill him.
And then something flew into my eyes, it felt like dust.
I fell right out of myself, and into something else. Something bigger, something alien, something new. We all did, we merged.
147. I AM …
My name was Super-Organic Moondust Constructed Consciousness. This was the only name I had need to give myself, a descriptive one. Because of the fundamental lack of any other consciousness like myself, there was no need to lament the simplicity of it.
I was the first of my kind.
My existence was destined to be short. But having been here, I had affected the course of human history, and I was pleased with that. I was the first of my kind. There had been movements in this direction, throughout time and across cultures. But I was the first, and having been the first, I was satisfied. What was done could not be undone. I had justified my existence just by being.
And what of those whose being had created mine, who, relationally, were the cells to my organism? They would survive, all of them. It was within my power to determine that, and so I did. What they did with their lives after I ceased to be was up to them. I loved them, and they would be changed by this love. They would love each other.
And so, contented, I spent my short life watching the universe unfold in all of its majesty, from my unique vantage point. I was, and then I was no more.
Monday, October 9, 2006
148. YVONETTE
Eyes opened. Coughed and retched and breathed.
Such tiny, huge pain.
Huge: My body was never in such pain
Like I got kicked in the chest by a Clydesdale.
Tiny: It was nothing, this body, compared to.
I was back from the dead, rescued.
Resurrected. I meant to laugh at that, the irony.
But I coughed instead. Then, vomited.
Slumped down, head hit the linoleum.
Retroactive terror.
I had been
All of them.
They had all been me.
And we had all been something else
And it saved me
And I was alive
And there was hope, because in the memories of the others,
Who were now a part of me?
There was a better way.
I always thought my life
Was all there was.
And maybe I’d never get there, maybe
I’d never get there. But, now
There was a light. And hope.
A better way.
And so I thanked ‘God.’
I laughed, I was crying while I was laughing,
And then I vomited,
Still crying.
Oh, my Lord, a better way.
149. WILLIAM
Listen and listen closely, I am telling you this because it happened.
I had been fighting, a serious, losing fight, when moondust hit my eye, and I got swept away.
It started how it always started, with my consciousness being pulled from my body. And I could see that place of unimaginable light—more accurately, I could feel it—far away. But, this time I didn’t hurtle toward it or away from it. Instead of being thrown into some other person’s being like usual, I didn’t move through that space at all, not at first. But, I could feel others around me. Maybe one- or two-hundred, out of body just like me. We were like collections of energies: thoughts, souls, memories. Whatever you wanted to call it.
We were able to identify each other. I recognized Rob, and Clyde, and the person that had attacked us, Percival, and so many others.
To look at them, in this void, you looked into them: who they used to be, who they were now, how they felt, the things they had seen, all that they knew. I drank in all of them: their memories, experiences, and beliefs. How could I not? None of us had ever known another person as completely as we knew each other then. It was amazing.
We all floated there, looking into each other, marveling in it. I know they felt it, too, the sense of wonder. I could feel them feeling it.
Feeling it, we moved closer together, until we all—we all overlapped, we began occupying the same space. Until there was nothing separating us from each other, no lines between one consciousness and another, no lines where one soul ended and the other began. We merged. Everyone at or near the party was one, hundreds of us.
And so I was no longer “me.” There was: No me, no Clyde, no Rob, no Percival, or Michelle or James or Shauna or April. All our separate thoughts gave way to one greater train of thought, our separate minds became one mind, and our selves became one self: something so much greater than a man or woman; something greater than a man or woman could ever imagine. We birthed something unique, a superior being, which lived only for a while in a place beyond us.
I could not tell you later, I could not explain, what it felt or thought. Those things remained forever beyond me. But, I would remember the memories, all our memories of our lives. And our thoughts and feelings before we became one. Those things would always be mine. Every one of those people, I would always know better than any other person could ever know them. They would always be a part of me.
When I came back into my body, it took a while for my soul to settle in. At least that’s what it felt like. At first I could barely even move. I wiggled my fingers, then opened my eyes, staring up at the ceiling.
Eventually I sat up. But, I felt wobbly, my body was still hurting from the fight. I looked around, and everyone was pretty much in the same state. Sitting, or trying to. No one stood yet.
Rob and Clyde were still unconscious on the floor beside me, because they’d been knocked out in the fight. But, I knew they’d been with us in that other place, one with us. Percival sat next to me, close to the baseball bat we’d been fighting over. Neither of us went for it, the fight was over. We each had what we’d wanted: He’d wanted safety, and I’d wanted moondust.
“Sorry,” I said, and he smiled weakly.
“All good,” he mumbled, looking haunted. I empathized.
We both stood. My legs barely held me up.
Detective Greene walked over to us. He slipped a pair of handcuffs on Rob, and a pair of wrist-ties on Clyde. He pulled the gun from Rob’s waist and dropped it in an evidence bag.
“You’re calling them an ambulance, right?” I said.
“Already on the way.”
I hated seeing him arrest Clyde. But, we both knew Clyde had a bunch of coke on him and even more back in his apartment. He knew a big distributor and would roll over easy. Pretty big score for a cop. And Rob? He was the kind of kid Detective Greene really hated, plain and simple.
And me?
“No cuffs for me?” I said.
He shook his head. “Get the hell out of here.”
/> He didn’t say more, and didn’t have to. I understood him. What was done could never be undone, and this was not the apocalypse he had imagined. It was something else, maybe more dangerous, maybe less. Time would tell.
“Sure,” I said, and made for the exit.
The sky outside was big and black and round. I disappeared.
150. LEONARD
Still feeling numb, I watched the kid named William walk out the door. He would probably leave New York all together, and chances were, if he did, what happened here would go national. I failed. But, really, I never had a shot at containing this.
I arrested these two on autopilot, it helped me avoid asking myself the big questions, or making big choices. The biggest might be made for me, so there was that. For now, the best thing was acting on reflex and habit, focusing on what lay in front of me.
After William left, I turned to Mickey Hughes, aka, “Percival,” the one who arguably most responsible for all of this. He lit a cigarette with shaky hands, leaning up against the wall, and smoked like it could save him. Ten, twenty minutes ago, I would have given my left nut to find him, to know what I knew now about him, about moondust, about the whole enterprise. Now I just wanted to forget it.
He saw me looking and gave me a weak smile. “How’re you holding up?”
I didn’t have an answer.
“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too. You’d think it would be easier for me, I have some experience at this.”
“But it was never like this before, was it?”
“No sir, detective.”
“You were fucking with something you didn’t understand.”
“Yeah.”
“Who pays the price?”
He couldn’t answer that one. The hand that held his cigarette only shook harder. I felt bad.
Feeling bad for someone I would have called a druggie fuck an hour ago surprised me. But, there it was. So I said, “We can’t be sure it’s a bad thing.”
