by Andy Briggs
Marlow suddenly remembered another essential fragment of information. Walkers were in their own dream world and could create guardians, familiar faces that populated their dreams. Marlow suspected the figure walking from the shadows was Dan's dream-version of Boris.
“Don't worry Dan,” said the unseen figure. “You ain’t going anywhere.” It wasn't Boris's voice, it was one laced with menace.
Marlow scrambled for a list of possible people Dan would have conjured up as a mentor - and drew the inevitable conclusion. Marlow’s heart sank at the thought of being forced to battle a fake-version of Dan's own father, right in front of the kid.
“Get behind me, Dan,” the figure prompted as it moved from the shadows. Dan did so, his gaze never leaving Marlow.
Marlow was poleaxed when he saw the figure. The voice was unfamiliar, but the face wasn’t.
She was looking at herself.
Or rather a new and improved version of her. Her hair was washed, straight and flowed in an invisible breeze. Her skin was perfection, her face serene. Even her perfectly fitting clothes were not covered in a menu of food stains. She was both horrified and flattered that Dan had chosen her as his ultimate protector.
The dream-Marlow eyed her foe critically. “Don't look right does it? Got the nose wrong for a start, and I ain't so fat and disgusting.” Dan giggled as the imposter circled Marlow. “It must be some kind’ve shapeshifting dream monster.”
Marlow surmised that in the Darkmare's influence, Dan couldn't see the beast, or even the other Infiltrators. As far as the kid was concerned he could be standing at home when the second Marlow appeared.
“Dan, this is not me,” said Marlow pointing to her perfect counterpart. “This is a fake, something the Darkmare created to keep you asleep. Can you see the Darkmare?”
Dan looked vaguely in the Darkmare's direction but looked right through it.
“He's talking balls,” said the impostor, causing Dan to giggle again. “I'll crack his head open.”
Marlow’s fists clenched. “Don’t you think–”
Her doppelganger punched her across the jaw so hard that Marlow was lifted off her feet, and crashed to the floor.
She tasted blood in her mouth as the clone gripped her around the neck and pulled her back to her feet. Marlow hadn't been expecting the speed or strength of the attack. She could barely breathe as the fake angled her left then right, inspecting her closely. Out of sight from Dan, the doppelganger’s face bubbled and twisted as it made subtle refinements in its guise.
Marlow felt a punch to her solar plexus with such force, tears streamed from her eyes. She glimpsed Dan's concern, before the imposter stood between them.
“Dan...” she gasped, reaching for him. “You’re dreaming...”
A heavy boot slammed into Marlow’s side and sent her sliding along the dais, through the slick embryonic gloop surrounding the Darkmare.
Marlow knew time was against her. She couldn't survive much more pummelling. She defiantly clambered to her feet, one hand using the cold body of the Darkmare for support as the fake-Marlow bore towards her like a locomotive.
“Dan - I'm Marlow, kid. It’s me. Think hard... would I really go nuts ‘n’ beat up someone like this?”
The fake leapt for Marlow - but this time she sidestepped - her foot slipping in gloop, that sent her sprawling once again. She saw Dan looking thoughtful as the imposter took a superhuman leap - covering the eighteen-foot gap between them in a single bound.
Once again, the breath was crushed from Marlow, and more ribs popped, as the fraud landed on top of her. She tried to lash out but the imposter’s weight was crushing – and increasing with the inevitability of a nightmare. Her attacker’s fists moved so fast they were a blur - and pain exploded across Marlow’s back as her kidneys took the brunt.
The fake leaned so close that Marlow could smell its stale fishy breath. “I’ll butcher ya right here, Nightmare Killer,” it hissed.
Marlow’s struggles were futile; the doppelganger was immovable. With a sharp click the ‘ganger’s right forearm split into two forming scissor-like serrated claws which pressed either side of Marlow’s neck.
This is how I buy it, Marlow thought with uncharacteristic calm. A wasted life and I’m about to be decapitated in someone else’s half-dream.
There was a sickening crunch and a bitter smell. Marlow had once read that the head could stay alive without the body for up to a minute. She fully expected to see her own corpse going into spasm. Instead the weight shifted off her. It took seconds for Marlow to realise that she was still alive.
She sprang to her feet and rounded on her foe - only to see her split in half all the way down to her stomach. It was a gruesome sight watching herself severed in half, even with the Infiltrators blue crystalline guts spewing out. As the corpse split aside, she saw Dan hefting her katana.
“Faker,” he growled and spun the sword with the expert skill only a dreamer possessed. The sword must have fallen when Marlow first fell.
With Marlow’s face grotesquely dangling from its split torso, the fraud raced towards Dan. Marlow booted the creature’s side – enough to send it straight past Dan and off the dais. The drop was only a couple of feet, but it still shattered with a satisfying crunch.
Marlow peered over the edge to confirm her kill.
“Good riddance.”
Then she felt cold steel against her throat. Dan’s grip on the sword was unwavering as he slowly stepped into Marlow’s field of vision and studied her with deep mistrust.
“How do I know you’re real?”
“Welcome back, kid. Good sword, ain’t it? Did I ever tell you it was forged from a meteor?”
Dan pressed the blade and Marlow sucked in a breath.
“Easy, kid. Unlike our pal there, I ain’t no figment of your imagination.” Uncertainty wavered across Dan’s face as he glanced down at the rapidly dissolving remains. “The Darkmare made you create it in the form of somebody you trust. Somebody you c-care about,” the words almost choked her. “You can see the Darkmare, right?” She didn’t move, only look upwards.
Dan quickly followed her gaze but shook his head.
“You’re in a dream... kinda. You’re seeing what you want to see. The Darkmare is convincing you you’re someplace safe coz it needs you asleep.” Dan took a deep breath, trying to work things out. “Remember our plan?” Marlow still didn’t dare move, but saw the army of Infiltrators were still keeping back, watching expectantly. She could even see the Darkmare had stopped moving, waiting for the outcome.
“How can this be a dream?” whispered Dan almost to himself.
“By keeping you asleep it’s able to open a rift into our world. You’re really back home, with your mum.”
“My mum...?” whispered Dan again. “I’d almost forgotten about her.” He moved the sword away, letting it hang from his side.
Marlow moved slowly backwards, gently rubbing her neck. “In your dream you can create whatever you want. You once told me how cool it was to suddenly realise you were dreaming so you could create anything you wanted. Me... I never dreamed before.”
“Lucid dreaming. I remember.”
“Good, good. Keep on remembering.”
Dan looked around, his frown was still in place, but she could see the veil of fog lifting from his perception.
“The Darkmare,” he said quietly as he kept slowly turning around. “It wouldn’t be that massive thing towering over us, would it?”
Marlow could barely stop the grin spreading across her face. “Oh, so you can see it. Good start. That means you can wake up.”
The ground suddenly shook with such violence that cracks spread across the dais. What Marlow had first thought was an earthquake was the Darkmare booming roaring as it felt Dan slip from its clutches. Every limb thrashed in frustration.
“It knows you can wake up!” shouted Marlow. “So hurry up and do it! Unlike you, I ain’t dreaming. This is very real!”
“How?” s
houted Dan over the rumbling bellow.
Before Marlow could answer the Darkmare swung a tentacle the size of a Redwood at him. Marlow braced herself and instinctively held up her arm, palms outstretched in an odd gesture.
“What’re you doing?” screamed Dan as he started to back away.
“Trying to create a shield!” shouted Marlow. “You said you can create stuff in your dreams!”
“But you said you’re not dreaming!”
The Darkmare’s tremendous limb was feet away – hurtling down with lethal force. The last thing she heard was Dan screaming:
“Nnnnoooo!!”
Chapter Eighteen
Bryony screamed loudly. It was the last line of defence she had as the living room door broke into matchsticks and the window imploded as the two Infiltrators closed in on her.
At that exact moment, Dan’s entire body flexed and he sprung from the sofa as if he’d been electrocuted. His unexpected movement escalated Bryony’s screams as, with the reflexes of a cat, Dan landed on his feet just as a leathery arm shot into through the window. Its target had been Bryony, but now Dan stood in the way and the Infiltrator’s arm suddenly jinked to the side. It scraped a gouge across the wall in a desperate attempt not to hurt him.
A tentacle from the doorway was around Bryony’s ankle when Dan spun around and snagged a jagged spare of wood that had been the coffee table and brought it down with all the force he could muster.
The Infiltrator screeched as the stake impaled the sensitive limb. There was no way the tiny weapon could inflict any real damage, yet the tentacle rapidly recoiled and both Infiltrators swiftly disappeared.
“Dan!” His mother hugged him tight. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy the embrace. “Thank goodness you’re OK.”
Dan pulled away. Something in his memory was vying for attention but traces of his dream were already vanishing like fog. He noticed his Grandpa on the floor and crossed to him, gently stroking his forehead. “What happened?”
Bryony hesitated. “One of those monsters hit him over the head.”
“Grandpa, wake up!” said Dan shaking him.
“He’s unconscious, not asleep.” A roar erupted outside, followed by tumbling masonry. Bryony peered through the broken window as snow flurries blew inside. She saw the corner house collapse to rubble as the leathery-armed Infiltrator fled into another street. “Why are they still here? I thought they were supposed to vanish when you woke up?”
Dan joined her, his mind racing. Purple clouds expanded over the town centre; the portal between worlds was still open. That meant Marlow was inside, but was she still alive?
Already details from the dream world were dissolving from his memory. The harder he tried to hold on to them the quicker they slipped from his mental grasp. It was a dream... he was at home... a home like this but bigger, nicer... and his father... no, not his father.
Marlow! Yes, that was it, Marlow was there but with dream-logic she was also his dad and they were playing football in the sun and...
He couldn’t remember. “Think!” he yelled out loud. It did the trick. A fragment of his dream jogged back into place.
A second Marlow had appeared. There had been a fight... the real Marlow had come to save him. But then the Darkmare attacked. The details were sketchy again. Dan had ran to help Marlow, moving at such an impossible speed he had managed to position himself between them...
But what had happened? Dan couldn’t recall any detail other than the sensation of falling. Shards of memory slotted together. He had fallen from the platform. His stomach had lurched and seconds before impact...
He had woken up.
So the nightmare should have ended, yet it was still happening around them. Infiltrators were still seeping into the world. Somehow the Darkmare had kept the portal open. But how?
“Marlow’s in trouble. We need to help her.”
“She can look after herself. We are leaving town,” Bryony began searching Boris’s trousers for the car keys. “We can drive out of here!” Their car was one of the few outside that wasn’t trampled. “You’ll have to help me carry Grandpa.”
The solution snuck up on Dan. One second he was wondering how the Darkmare was succeeding - and the next he knew. He also knew how to defeat it.
“It’s Grandpa.”
“That’s right,” Bryony lifted Boris’s arms. “Get his feet.”
Dan didn’t move; the plan was still crystallising in his mind’s eye. “I inherited this from Grandpa. He’s now the one keeping the portal open! Because he’s unconscious it’s staying open. Don’t you see?” Bryony shook her head, lost. “He doesn’t have to Astral Walk. He’s unconscious, already trapped between worlds. The Darkmare can keep him like this... he’ll never wake up. The portal wasn’t just because of me - either of us could open it, like a shared dream. I still feel part of it, even if I’m awake. It’s weird...”
Bryony dropped Boris’s arms and he crumpled back into a heap on the ground, his head cracking on the floor. “Sorry!” she gasped, kneeling to rub her father’s head. “I have no idea what you’re rambling on about!”
“I’ve got to find Marlow, then we can stop all this.”
“No, Dan! You’re back here and you’re coming with me.”
“Sorry, mum. I can’t.” He indicated to Boris. “Take him away from here. Go as fast and as far as you can. I’m still half asleep - and I’ve got to save the world.”
Dan didn’t even hesitate as he vaulted through the smashed living room window and out into the darkness.
Being dead wasn’t so bad, Marlow had to admit. Sure, every bone, muscle and nerve ending in her body throbbed painfully, but it could have been worse. She wasn’t sure what constituted worse but she was pretty sure the lack of breathing was in that list.
Breathing... if she was breathing then she couldn’t be dead. Marlow pulled herself together; now wasn’t the time for a philosophical discussion with herself. She’d only end up losing.
The Darkmare’s flailing limb had rushed towards her. She’d raised her arms and willed a shield to appear - only to realize that creation was the privilege of those who dreamed. Just when she was about to die, Dan has reacted with superhuman speed. There was a shimmer of light and Dan had created a shield of pure silver, which the Darkmare had struck.
While it absorbed much of the impact, the punch had still swept Dan and Marlow off the edge of the dais. As she had been thrown in the air like a ragdoll another snake-like appendage had plucked her from the zenith of his arc and drew her to the Darkmare’s colossal mouth. Jagged teeth the size of car doors had gashed inches from her face as she was tossed into the mouth.
The teeth slammed down behind her, tearing her trailing jacket, and she was suddenly falling. That’s when she lost consciousness.
So, she was now inside the Darkmare’s gullet. That would explain the darkness, the smell and the rancid liquid she felt sloshing around her. Marlow reached out and felt several spherical shapes with holes in. They were solid, but covered in a wet material. She suddenly recoiled – they were skulls. Human ones.
Her hand sloshed through other debris - most of which she desperately tried not to identify - before her fingers fell on cold steel. It was a gun. She traced the long barrel as it widened to the end… it was her blunderbuss. The Darkmare must have eaten everything on the dais.
Now we’re getting’ somewhere, she thought with mounting relief. Now to find a way out.
The cold air stung his lungs as Dan ran through the streets. There was an eerie calm over the town. The ruined streets were devoid of any life: not a single person, pet or Infiltrator.
It was snowing heavier than ever, and Dan regretted running from his home without putting on anything warmer than his t-shirt. He paused to catch his breath and enjoy the heat from a burning van. He oriented himself, which was difficult with no streetlights. Only the purple glow from the portal provided a form of illumination.
After rubbing the warmth back into his hand
s, he prepared to run again - but suddenly stopped. There was something crunching in the snow. Something was approaching. He hunkered down as close as he dared around the burning vehicle.
The first thing he saw was a shadow, instantly betraying the Infiltrator's fearsome shape. He had assumed they’d all returned to the Coliseum, commanded by some intangible signal from the Darkmare. Perhaps this was a sentry. The Infiltrator appeared at the road junction. It was twice Dan's height and bore a resemblance to a heavily armoured cockroach, walking on five legs. A pair of forearms were raised like gun barrels that dripped green ooze. Antenna on its head twitched as it sampled the air.
Dan didn’t move as the creature's head slowly swept the junction - fixing on the burning wreckage. An excited click reverberated in its throat. It had sensed Dan.
There was no point in hiding, so Dan stepped from around the vehicle displaying more courage than he felt. He was unarmed, alone and hopelessly outmatched.
“You know who I am?” The Infiltrator hesitated, its head cocking rapidly left and right as it tried to work out what to do. “That's right. You can't touch me, can you? I'm too valuable.” That was his ace card.
The creature stepped forward, drooling mandibles clacking together. Dan bravely held his ground. The creature raised its forearms at him. With a retching sound, liquid spheres shot at him. Dan rolled aside, the snow softening his fall as the liquid splashed across the van and immediately started dissolving the burning metal.
“No! I’m valuable!” warbled Dan as he clambered on his feet.
The acid shooters tracked onto him and fired - once again narrowly missing. Droplets splashed onto his t-shirt and burnt through to his skin. The pain was searing. He hefted snow over the burn to cool it. It was the time to put his theory to the test. It was a long shot and he felt stupid for not trying it when his life didn't depend on it.
With a terrible wet belch, the monster fired again. Dan raised his arm - and to his own amazement a shield materialised just in time to stop the acid barrage. It was solid and heavy and felt every inch real. The liquid hissed and bubbled on the shield but failed to make a dent. At the same time, Dan's other hand arced around. The air shimmered around his fist and he was suddenly holding a duplicate of Marlow’s katana as if it had always been there.
