Marlow

by Andy Briggs

  “I was.” Carlos reached across the table and squeezed his daughter’s hand. “I was always impressed with you. You were a better Hunter than I ever was. You excelled...”

  “You never said that.”

  The two of them looked at each other across the table. The air heavy with unspoken regret. Carlos was the first to find his voice again.

  “I was afraid. To see your daughter become everything you could never be... and when your mother passed...” He sucked in a deep breath before he could continue. “I immersed myself in work. Hunting was the only occupation I had to keep my mind off the real world.”

  “And me and my sis?”

  “Your sister coped admirably,” Carlos said with a slightly admonishing tone.

  Marlow nodded, apparently no longer willing to argue. “Still doesn't change the fact that it's too dangerous for you to come, Dad. You're not what you used to be.”

  Carlos pulled back his hand and steepled his fingers. After a thoughtful pause he nodded solemnly, and the disagreement had dissolved into awkward unspoken feelings.

  Carlos offered his car, pointing out that they wouldn’t get much further in a stolen vehicle. Marlow loaded the Ford Estate with canvas bags and boxes she and Carlos had taken from the basement. Aside from practical conversation, nothing much further had passed between the two. Dan extended his arms and turned his face to the sky, snow blurring his glasses. He enjoyed the feeling of the flakes melting on his face; the soft sting from the cold. It was something he hadn’t had chance to do for so long. To pause and enjoy being alive.

  Marlow slammed the boot closed and sighed as she regarded her father standing on the porch, hands thrust in his pockets to fight the cold. A look of envy and sadness etched on every crevasse of his face.

  “You have the UV lamps?”

  “Yes, dad.”

  “And the titanium cartridges?”

  “You saw me load the box.”

  Carlos nodded absently. “And the neurotoxins for Boris...”

  “All here, dad.”

  “Red topped ones, remember. They will sink him deep into a Conductive state, so be careful how you use them. What about the sandwiches?”

  “Dad...”

  Carlos cleared his throat, clearly wanting to say more than, “Good. Well. Remember the plan. Be safe.”

  Dan swore Marlow blushed. She bashfully kicked into the snow with the tip of her boots to avoid eye contact.

  “Just one more thing,” said Carlos, then disappeared briefly into the house, returning with a sheathed sword in the shape of a Samurai katana. “I want you to have this.”

  Marlow took it reverently. She’d trained with the sword as a child, and remembered it being much bigger and heavier then. Now it seemed small and fragile, although the craftmanship was more apparent than ever.

  “I can’t, dad. It’s your most treasured possession.”

  “Not quite,” said the old man. “There is your sister.”

  Marlow was about to snap back when she caught Carlos’ mischievous look. Carlos tapped the sheath.

  “This was forged from a meteor by your great-great grandfather. It will slice through any Nightmare.”

  “Thanks.” Marlow couldn’t think of anything more meaningful to say.

  Carlos pulled something from his pocket. “Oh, Daniel. Don't forget this.” He tossed a small white-capped glass vial to him. At the last second, Dan caught the container inches before smashing on the ground. He was impressed, although still sluggish, his reactions were vastly improved. “More wake-up juice. The moment you feel tired, take half. Can't have you falling asleep now, can we?”

  “Thank you Mister Cornelius. Thanks for everything you've done for me.”

  A rare smile crossed the old man’s face. Then he turned to Marlow and the smile faltered into something more neutral.

  “Watch your backs.”

  Marlow opened the car door and hesitated. She rested her elbow on the roof, rubbed her bloodshot eyes, then forced herself to look at Carlos.

  “Thanks, dad. Thanks for everything. I... I couldn't have done it without you. Any of it.”

  Dan saw the tear in the corner of Carlos's eyes, but it was swiftly swept aside as he pretended to adjust his glasses.

  “I know. And you were wrong.” Carlos wagged an admonishing finger. “I was always impressed. It's just difficult to accept the student can outgrow the master. Especially when she's your own flesh and blood. I'm proud of you, Marlow.” Now it was Marlow's turn to feign wiping snow from her eye. “Maybe after this... you might pop by for Christmas?”

  Marlow's face twisted - and it took a moment for Dan to realise it was a smile - a genuine smile, not a smirk or a grin.

  “Only if we get Gina to cook. You were always a terrible cook.”

  They climbed in the car and Marlow gunned the engine. She glanced in the rear-view and gripped the wheel thoughtfully, then she became aware that Dan was staring. He opened his mouth to speak, but Marlow revved the engine to drown him out.

  “Shut up, kid.”

  Without a further word or gesture, Marlow pulled away from the house. Dan lowered the side window, admitting a blast of cold air into the car, and waved goodbye until they turned a bend in the drive and lost sight of Carlos who held his hand raised in a silent farewell the whole time.

  “How you feeling?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “You ain't falling asleep on me now, are ya?”

  Dan had been staring out of the window for a couple of hours as they drove through the increasingly heavy snow. Marlow had stayed off the major roads so as a result the car had skidded a few times, but she had always managed to keep them on the road.

  “Where are we?” said Dan with a yawn.

  “You just yawned,” snapped Marlow.

  “I know I did. I'm bored, not tired.” That wasn't strictly true. While he wasn't feeling the familiar warm narcoleptic embrace, he was still weary and for the first time in his life he understood why people insisted on power naps. He thought it best not at alarm Marlow. “So where are we?”

  “About five hours from home. I'm gonna have to pull over and take a nap. You on the other hand will have to stay awake and keep watch. Closer to home we're gonna have a tough time of avoiding the law so need to be on peak performance.”

  “I'm hungry,” said Dan as his stomach rumbled. It was the only thing he could think to say.

  They parked in a rest stop and ate the dry sandwiches Carlos had provided. Marlow reclined her seat to get comfortable, and Dan promised to stay awake and ensure the car didn't get snowed in.

  Every time Marlow turned to get comfortable the car rocked, but that was preferable to her long honking snores. Dan watched the hypnotic snowfall. He was starting to relax; beginning to unfold into...

  He shook himself. No! He couldn't risk falling asleep. He searched for the button to lower the window before finally realising it was done with an old crank handle. Just cranking it open an inch was enough to admit stabbing icy winds that blew snow into the car. It pricked his senses awake, but not enough to take away the underlying drowsiness he was beginning to experience. He pulled the white-capped vial of wake-up juice from his pocket and held it up to the low light coming through the windscreen. He could take a shot now, but he was certain he'd need the kick later. He took out his mobile and powered it up.

  Marlow snorted, pulling her coat tighter around her neck. “Damn cold,” she muttered,

  “It was getting a bit stuffy in here.” Dan expected her to wake in panic to make sure he wasn’t drifting off. She mumbled something incoherent then lapsed into silence. Dan wasn’t sure if she was asleep or not. “I would've thought you taken the chance to shower at your Dad's.”

  “Nice to see you patch things up with your Dad.” Silence. Dan sighed and played with his phone for a moment. “Pity you couldn't be bothered doing the same with your own children.” He continued flicking through his collection of games before realising that Marlow was staring at h
im. She hadn't moved position, but the faint light from the phone made her eyes gleam, reminding him of a cat. “What?”

  “What would you say?” she asked.

  “To your children? How about sorry for being a crappy mum. Sorry for being too scared to pick up the phone and talk to you. Maybe a little about how they meant the world to you and how you'll make up all that lost time.” The words had come out in a pent-up rush and Dan had to catch his breath. “That's what I'd want to hear my dad say.” Dan sensed Marlow's gaze bore into him but refused to meet it. Talking was one thing but he had no energy for an argument. She suddenly snatched the phone from him. “Hey! What're you doing?”

  Marlow's finger hovered over the screen. Dan could see the indecision play across her face. He held his breath, surprised she was even considering doing the right thing, and willed her to make the call.

  With a hiss, Marlow chucked the phone back into Dan's lap.

  “What's the point? It's too late now.”

  Dan offered the phone to her. “This could be your last chance.”

  Marlow lowered her seat, resigned to losing the battle with sleep. “What d'you mean?”

  “I thought it was obvious. Me and you driving into battle against the Darkmare. Tearing a hole between worlds just so you can blow it away. You act like there's no danger involved.”

  “Nothing I can't handle.”

  “Rubbish. You could die doing this. Look at you. You’ve been beaten up pretty badly already by just a couple of Infiltrators, now you expect to effortlessly stop them all? And what about me?”

  “Conduits are always safe.”

  “What if the Darkmare decides that I'm more hassle than I'm worth? What if it decides to kill me and start all over?” Marlow's jaw clenched, she'd obviously hoped Dan wouldn't be aware of the danger. “Or worse. You fail completely and the Darkmare breaks through. Then I'd be trapped in a permanent vegetative state. I’d never wake up would I? Just grow old and slowly starve as it runs riot, killing mum, grandpa, you - everybody I care about!” Marlow blinked in surprise - but Dan steamrolled on. “It's time you grew up and realised that not everybody else you is like you! You can't drown all your problems in a bottle and you can't choose to ignore people who might actually want to be around you!” Dan's temper flared. He let it out, the only thing now keeping him awake. “Did you give even a second's thought to how I might feel about you using my grandpa to fight this thing?”

  “He–”

  “You’re using him as bait! I don't care that he was trying to hide all this from mum. I know he was doing it because he cared! I know he made a mistake, and if he is the only one who can help us then he'll have to whether he likes it or not. And that hurts! That makes me feel like I’m betraying him!”

  “He used us! Why should you care? He never told you the truth.”

  “Which is exactly why I see we have to do what we have to do. That's what I'm saying - sometimes you have to take the toughest option to do the right thing. It's about time you did that too.” He folded his arms. A clear signal that the conversation was not only over, but any further words would just be a waste of oxygen.

  “Maybe we should run the engine a bit. Warm us up,” Marlow said in a dry croak. It took a few turns of the key to spark the engine to life. The air conditioner came straight on, full blast, blowing frigid air at them. Once ticking over it took several minutes for the vehicle to warm up. Marlow made use of that time to get out and clear the accumulated snow from the windows and clear the wheels. When she got back in Dan spoke as if nothing had passed between them.

  “Are you awake enough to drive?”

  “I'm awake enough to kick the world into shape. Thanks for your concern.” The last was steeped in sarcasm.

  Dan considered it a personal triumph that he stayed awake for the rest of the journey. The cold air and locking onto the loudest rock stations had occupied him while Marlow bore the distractions in sullen silence. The snow had kept the majority of traffic off the roads, particularly police patrols, so it was with a huge sense of relief that Dan saw a signpost indicating home lay ahead.

  This was it. Full circle to face down his own personal nightmares. He only hoped that Marlow knew what she was doing.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Marlow didn't know what she was doing.

  She had become increasingly anxious as they approached the town. The traffic had naturally increased despite the late hour and constant snow. One police car had passed them but the lack of any sudden high-speed pursuit had boosted their confidence, but did little to calm Marlow's frayed nerves.

  Towering metal poles decorated with jolly Christmas illuminations and topped with a compliment of surveillance cameras became more frequent. Marlow prayed the snow would provide enough cover against a vigilant operator consulting the Most Wanted list. Added to that was the ever-present and increasing fear that Dan would fall asleep. As far as she could tell the kid had been awake for twenty-four hours. She knew most people couldn’t last much longer without sleep and that terrified her more than she liked to admit.

  With each passing moment her desire to ditch the vehicle increased until she finally pulled over in a bland housing estate, each building looking like a clone of the other. The occasional one was decked with colourful illuminations that blazed pointlessly through the night.

  “What're we doing here?” Dan asked. “This isn't anywhere near where I live.”

  “Close enough,” Marlow cut the engine. “We walk from here. You'll just have to carry a few things.”

  The few things weighed Dan down as his feet slipped in snow that came above his ankles and seeped into his trainers, making his feet wet and cold. Marlow had opened the cases in the car, revealing an arsenal of gleaming weapons; obviously not belonging to her as they were well maintained and gleamed in the yellow streetlights. The thrill of shouldering several high-powered rifles soon vanished when she added a backpack filled with ammunition and strapped her chipped baseball bat to that.

  Marlow was similarly laden with equipment, including her trusty blunderbuss, but further scrutiny was denied when Marlow wrapped a cloak around her and then fastened one around Dan. Less to keep out the cold and more to artfully disguise the fact they were carrying an enormous amount of illegal firepower.

  Marlow's hands shook as she tied Dan's cloak. She'd always felt frightened facing Infiltrators, no matter how many times she'd done it, which is why she preferred to stagger into battle drunk. Now she was not only sober, but responsible for the kid's safety as they faced down the very beast she had sneered at his father for believing in.

  If that were not nerve jangling enough there was a further complication, a feeling that was alien to Marlow. It had taken her most of the drive to identify it: the intangible honour in fulfilling her family obligation. The look in her father's eyes had conveyed more words than he’d ever spoke to her. They were wide with pride, wide with love, and wide with the certain knowledge he wouldn't see his daughter alive again.

  As they tramped through the snow towards Dan's home, she shooed the negative thoughts aside. There was no room for them tonight. She would survive this. She was determined to protect Dan and, just as importantly, prove her father wrong. That alone was worth living for.

  Letting Dan take the lead, they kept to the darkest streets, thankful there was nobody around. A few vehicles had passed, mostly taxis, so they both lurked in the shadows until the coast was clear. It wasn't until they were several streets away did Dan speak up.

  “What are we going to tell grandpa?”

  Marlow didn't have a clue. She knew the moment the door opened that the kid's mother or Boris would be racing to the phone to call the cops. She'd have to stop them as painlessly as possible.

  “Dunno,” she finally admitted. “You ain't feeling tired are ya?”

  “The cold's doing a good job at keeping me perky.”

  That sounded evasive, but she didn't purse it. Dan suddenly stopped on a corner.

  �
�What's wrong?” Marlow looked around suspiciously.

  “We turn onto my street here.” Dan peeked around the corner - and quickly pulled his head back. “Uh-oh.”

  Marlow peered around the corner and immediately saw the problem. A police car was parked outside, no doubt waiting for the wily kidnapper to make contact and demand her ransom. This was a problem she hadn't anticipated.

  “Crap,” she growled. “Now what?”

  Dan cleared the slush from his glasses. “I have an idea.”

  Marlow listened. With each sentence she felt increasingly uncertain. The plan Marlow had concocted with her father lacked several vitally important details, especially in execution and how to get out alive. However, they had not discussed how to deal with unwelcome human interference. Dan's plan was rough, full of potential pitfalls, and so clearly improvised that if it was analysed for more than a few seconds it began to fall apart. Sadly, it was the only option they had.

  When Marlow finally nodded her consent, Dan looked awkwardly away and spoke so low that Marlow could barely hear.

  “Just so you know... whatever happens. Thank you.”

  Marlow was shocked. Nobody ever said thank you. They were often so relieved that the hideous creature, which had trampled through their house was destroy that they threw the cash at her on the doorstep in their haste to get rid of her, as if it was Marlow's fault the Infiltrator had appeared in the first place.

  Marlow flinched when Dan reached out and awkwardly patted her on the arm. “You've been a friend. A real friend who stood by me when... well, when things went crazy and nobody else would. I’d hug you… but you stink.” He handed her his phone. “While you're waiting. It's got enough credit on it. Good luck.”

  Dan dumped his equipment in Marlow's arms, only making sure he had the wake-up juice and neurotoxins hidden in his pocket. Then headed to his home, a dark spot devoid of any festive sheer. Unaccustomed to meaningful human contact Marlow stood in shock, wondering what had just happened. It was only when Dan was halfway to his house did she duck into the shadows of a side street and lost herself in the park.