Volume One: The Road Out
Chapter Three
Verse Two: One Hero's MacGuffin
Marion and Harley sprinted around the corner of the yard away from the old woman yelling and the now aware Men of Black and White that had already surrounded their aging van. Passing into the shadow of the creaking old house, Harley's eye's were caught off guard by the sudden change in light and he collided head on into something roughly ahead shorter than him and both he and the unknown thing went sprawling. Harley shook his head to clear the haze from the impact and heard voices as his eyes adjusted to the shade of the new surroundings.
"Fitz! Are you all right? Mr. Dreamer! Oh my gosh! Fitz we've found them! We're safe!"
Harley's vision cleared and he saw a young girl who looked like she was twelve years old or younger, and boy in his early teens- whom Harley suspected he had just ricocheted off at both groups rounded the corner. A sudden shocked awareness spread over Harley and he looked to Marion in shock. Marion nodded, the look on face was the look of man who had just discovered that somebody had ordered strippers for his twelve year daughter's birthday party.
"These are the kids, aren't they?" Harley said.
"These are Maia and Fitzroy. Marion said, still nodding like a bobble-head toy, "These are definitely them. There is clearly somebody writing this story we're in. And clearly, he's a hack."
Maia and Fitzroy stared at Marion and then at Harley. Fitzroy looked bewildered and Maia wore an unmistakable expression of sheer joy. "I told you Fitz! I told you the Dreamwalker would help us! That's what the stories said, and here they are. And now we don't have to walk the Witch Road alone."
"And they look just as lost and desperate as we do. I don't know that this helps."
Marion looked at Harley, "I don't think the agents were here for us."
Harley looked behind them at the agents approaching rapidly and then over the children's shoulders at the agents approaching rapidly from that direction. Harley grabbed Maia by the hand.
"That's right, here we are. Run for your life." Harley said pleasantly.
And then he took off to their left, with Maia struggling to keep up and Marion and Fitzroy charging along behind them. They spun around the the front of the building and saw more figures in suits and sunglasses.
"Okay, running in a different direction then." Harley said and he grabbed Maia and Fitzroy each by the wrist and dragged them back into the shadow of the house before, hopefully, the agents spotted them. Marion hung in the open for a moment longer than Harley would have liked before noticing and following Harley's lead. Harley quickly climbed over the white picket fence in to the yard of the woman who had called them out and, Marion and the children scrambling after him, Harley nestled himself into the cover of a line of well tended globe cedar shrubs and waited. Footsteps passed them by twice, coming from both directions, and then silence. Harley could hear all four of them breathing, and he prayed nobody else could. Time passed, and Harley was unsure how much, the adrenaline had dilated his perception of time. Harley's brain was convinced it could walk to Bangladesh and back in the space contained within a second. Harley wasn't listening to his brain, because he knew the chemicals pulsing through his brain right now were rendering it entirely unreasonable, and so he just sat in silence and waited, trying to bring himself back to a state where practicality could retain control of his decision making process. And then, once more, a women's voice shattered the quiet.
"What are you doing in my garden? First you hide in the empty lot and now my garden. What are scruffy ruffians doing here? And who are these children. Oh. Oh!"
"Never lucky. Never lucky. Never lucky." Marion said in dejected tones as the women spoke.
"You're those kidnapped children." The woman said in a warbling lilting voice, "And you're the boys wanted in connection with the kidnapping."
"No, no, no," Maia said quickly, "We weren't kidnapped, we ran away. Our dad is a really bad man, he had my mom killed. He had her killed. he had her shoved her in a fridge. Why would somebody do that? And they aren't kidnapping us at all. They're saving us. We called them, because he," She pointed at Marion, "Was nice to us when we were visiting his book store, and I didn't know who else to call. Who do you call for help when your Dad has your Mom killed and he can buy the police and stuff?"
The woman turned pale, "Oh dear me, are you serious?"
Fitzroy broke in, "She's very serious, Maia's always serious, she doesn't lie, even when she should. We're in a lot of trouble, we probably can't get out of it. You shouldn't help us, because then you'll be in a lot of trouble too. But it would mean a lot if you helped us anyway, because otherwise we have no hope at all. Please."
"Oh dear me, you poor dears. Of course I'll help you. I am eighty five years old, what can anyone do to me that time hasn't done? Get in my house you poor things. Right now."
Marion shook his head in shock, "Was that the universe giving us good luck?"
"These are kids." Harley said, "Weren't you the one who said we needed to follow the story. This is their story isn't it? Not ours. We get to be Obi-Won Kenobi. I think they're the heroes."
As they spoke, the woman ushered them into the tiny little one storey war house and closed the door. She locked four deadbolts on the door as she shut it and then wiped her hands in satisfaction.
"Now then, I am Mrs. Boots. Retiree, busybody, gardener, reader of tea leaves and scary lady that everyone says is a witch."
Mrs. Boots was surrounded by cats in a way that made Marion think of Mrs. Trilby. Mrs. Boots was an enormous woman however and leaned on two sturdy black canes for support. The effect of the canes and the multitude of cats was to make it look as though the Cats leaning into Mrs. Boots were holding the woman upright.
Mrs. Boots continues, "You too are the children of that business man, whom you have said had your mother killed. Which is awful on the level of raising taxes in Sherwood Forest and Performing Shakespeare to dubstep by the way. But who are you two?"
Harley shook his had, "Two guys that fate decided to throw to the wolves. As Maia said, my friend Marion was present for an altercation between their parents at his job. Then he got fired and those guys in the suits have been chasing us, and I think they've been chasing the kids too, yes?" Harley looked at Fitzroy for confirmation, and the boy nodded.
Mrs. Boots raised an eyebrow, and a look of recognition crossed her face. "Well then you need help if the official authorities are against you, yes? What can I do?"
"You believe us?" Marion asked in shock, "Not that I don't, or I guess that we don't appreciate it, but unsolicited help hasn't been really common since this started and it kind of feels weird."
"Yes, I believe you. You aren't dreaming. I really will help. What can I do? I'm suspecting that you need to get out of town, and you didn't walk in now did you?"
Harley raised an eyebrow as she talked, listening to her word use.
Maia answered Mrs. Boots, "We hitchhiked," and then Maia added, "Do you know the Witch Doctor?"
Mrs. Boots raised her eyebrows and clicked her tongue and gave Marion and Harley a questioning look. Then after a moment, she shook her head and said, "So, not yet? Well that explains some things. But that's who you children arrived, what about you too young men?"
"We drove but the guys in suits have our van surrounded," Marion said.
"Then you need a distraction. I can help with that."
Harley shook his head, "Alone? There are a lot of them."
Mrs. Boots shook her head, "I never do anything alone. I need a little yin to my yang. I'm going to call my girlfriend and we'll keep those boys in monkey suits busier than a fox in a hen house filled with bear traps."
"That is mental image that make me happier than it should." Marion said.
"All right. I'm going to make a phone call in a minute and then make a lot of noise. That's your signal to run for your little goblin."
"Wait a minute," Harley said, but Mrs. Boots cut him off.
"We don't have a minute, those boys in black and white will start searching houses pretty quick and you don't have time. Just run for your car and let fate take care of the rest. I suspect you four are on a quest, which means you have to trust the path. But fate always sends guides, mentors, so watch for them: your very own Alec Guinness in wizard robes, you have to find his sanctuary, his temple, his monastery.These things are normally in hidden valleys, deep dark forests, barren deserts or on isolated mountain tops. Trust the dream and and walk the path. Now, out my back door, I'll be using my front door for the distraction. Get ready." Mrs. Boots shooed them to the back door as she picked up her phone and began dialling.
As the four made their way tot he back door, Harley heard Mrs. Boots began talking to whoever was on the other line, "Hello old boy, Yes it's me. No time Mercer dear, I'm glad your feeling better, but I need some assistance so get everyone ready."
Marion opened the back door and the four of them crept to the fence and peered over it to the goblin. Two men in suits stood watch.
"That's yours?" Fitzroy asked in concern, "Because it looks old. It looks like it could die on the highway and nobody would notice, because it's so old."
"It is old, but it's tough and easy to repair." Harley answered a little more defensively than he would have liked, "The goblin is what we have right now, and you can trust him. He's noisy but dependable."
"Mrs. Boots called him the goblin, didn't she? How did she know that, and she talked like knew more things like that and other stuff."
"Yes, she did. And I don't know." Harley answered.
"Everyone seems to know more than we do." Marion added.
"What are you doing over there?" Mrs. Boots voice cried from the front yard, full of horror and outrage, "You let her go! She's just a little girl!" Her voice rose with each word.
"Time to run again," Harley said as the two remaining agents ran in the direction of Mrs. Boots' voice.
They charged the Goblin and scrambled in.
"Seat belts." Marion added as Harley slammed the key into the ignition and started the van. Harley put the goblin into reverse and headed back out of town the way they came.
"What's the plan oh mighty sane one?" Marion asked.
"Get back onto the highway, and head in any direction other than what we were heading in previously and figure it out from there."
"Sounds good."
As they drove out of town the streets seemed clear, the search for them seemed to currently be confined to southern half of town, presumably on the assumption that they need the amenities and supplies available there. But as they drove a dark shape caught Marion's eye and he turned to see a shadow thing flit between the shadows cast by the houses. It looked vaguely canine, but Marion couldn't see it clearly.
"Doesn't anyone else see that thing?" Marion asked pointing.
Harley didn't look, focusing on driving, but both kids looked and Maia quickly nodded and looked worriedly at Marion.
"It looks like a dog, but like shadows."
From the shadows at the side of the road came a howl that echoed as though the thing had howled into a pipe organ. Harley pushed the gas pedal down and brought the goblin up to highway speed, racing along abandoned suburb streets. The goblin's engine and tires expressed their outrage as Harley calmly manhandled the vehicle to the highway. Harley brought the goblin on the highway like a torpedo and then shifted wheel and slammed the brakes, spinning the goblin ninety degrees into the southbound lane and accelerated again. The howl sounded again, but more distant.
"Did you see it Harley?" Marion asked.
"No, I was driving, but everything I have dealt with so far has been human looking. What you described sounds like the story raising the stakes again, so the reasonable thing is to take it seriously. Find me a place where we can change direction, east or west, I don't care."
Marion nodded and began scanning the map.
Harley adjusted the rear view mirror to look at the children, "Okay. Marion's met you I think. I just want to confirm something, you two are actually Maia and Fitzroy Salt. Right?"
Fitzroy shook his head, "No. Because a last name would mean family. Because we've lost our family, because family doesn't do the stuff that ours did. Father said we chose exile instead of the family business. But that's because the family business is evil."
"Okay, I'm hearing you two talking like you know more than me and more than Marion. So bring us up to speed on what we're into here. We're listening."
Maia spoke, "I've been having dreams and stuff about bad things and future things. Mom kept having bad things happen to her in the dreams and it was always his fault and those men in the sunglasses and suits were always there and there was a big black snake and I couldn't stop the dreams and I couldn't stop it from happening here either."
"Breathe," Marion said, "We have time. You don't have to rush."
Fitzroy took over, "Maia started have conversations with somebody who called himself the Witch Doctor. I couldn't see him, because this happened in her visions. It was hard to believe, because I couldn't see it. But the Witch Doctor phoned us on my phone and Maia recognized his voice."
"He told us to grab our mom and run and he told he told us to do it right away and we didn't and then Mom got killed and if we'd listened and if we'd listened." Maia broke down into body wracking sobs and Fitzroy wrapped an arm awkwardly around his sister.
"None of this makes sense. We didn't run, because this is all insane. We're probably going to die, because how do you fight this craziness? But we aren't going to die without a fight, because whoever they are, they killed our mother."
"That is some seriously tragic heroic back story right there."
"We're not heroes. We're victims."
Harley shook his head, "Not if it's your story. The one constant that that Marion and I keep hearing from everyone who knows more than we do is that this is a story somehow. Not that it will make a good story, but that this is somehow a story in the big mythic sense. And everyone seems to want this to be their story. If it's your story, you aren't victims. If it's your story, your heroes with a tragic backstory."
"How do we now?"
Marion twisted in the seat to look back at the children, "I don't think anyone can say for sure, but in general the hero is determined by who tells the story. So let's be storytellers shall we?"
"Do you know what's scary?" Marion said, "I prefer this to our normal lives."
"I don't hear you." Harley said, "Why on earth would you prefer this?"
"We hated our normal lives. They give you until about five years old. And then they lock in a class room, send you to the salt mines and stuff you in a retirement home. Nose to the grindstone work until you're no use to the empire anymore. We hated it. You hated it. I hated it. The fact that we accept this as normally is insane."
"It is normal."
"You know it's only normal because everyone agrees it is. If this was all really normal we wouldn't be causing global warming or overpopulation or mass extinction or destroying the coral reefs or all the other horrible things that we do just by carrying on living in this way and calling it normal."
"The correct term is climate change."
"Not the point. If all this was actually normal, people would be happy- they wouldn't pray to lottery tickets and medicate with caffeine and prescription drugs. I'm happier now, on the run with people shooting at me and supernatural dogs and creepy agents chasing me than I ever was when things were normal. Or are you missing your day job?"
"I don't miss my day job."
"So let's embrace the weird."
"We could die you know. That's a little more weird than I want from my life."
"So, death is the only thing we all get to do."
"Everyone can't walk away from the normal or civilization will collapse."
"Didn't I tell you? I had a vision where everything collapsed anyway? For all we know it collapsed because of the normal."
Harley's cell phone rang.
"Marion can you grab that? I'm driving."
Marion reached into Harley's jacket pocket and produced the phone.
"Hi, this isn't Harley." Marion said.
"I know Dreamer, you cannot deceive me." The voice on the other end said.
"Hi. I'm definitely not trying to deceive you, whoever you are. If I was trying to deceive you I'd be telling you that I was Simon Templar or James Bond or something clever like that. Besides, I don't know who you are, so why would I try to deceive you?"
"Because deception might prolong your time in the role of Dreamer. Because if I capture you, your continued survival comes heavily into question."
"Right, so you're ramping up the creepy. I get that. But I've fought giant snakes covered in oil like they've escaped from a Captain Planet episode. I fought cannibal ghosts and mystic secret agents. Why should I be afraid of you?"
"Because I can see the trail of disorder, the scar upon the story that you four leave as you flee. You cannot hide from me. I will simply follow the damage until I find you. I will march behind you, until I can cleanse your infection from my perfect narrative."
"Who are you?"
"Call me the Bone Man. Nothing more is necessary. Do you hear that howl?"
"Yes."
"The hound is hunting for you. The hound is older and stronger than I am. Older and deadlier than my men, than my King. He does not answer to the Grey as Falsenight does. For centuries the Grey has kept him on a leash. I say, he but gender is irrelevant. The hound is not a thing. The hound is a concept, and it is inescapable. It can smell the children, smell their fear. You have one chance to avoid it. And as it turns out, you have the same one chance to avoid dying by my hand. Give the children to us. They are still children in this world, still young and physically immature. You are grown young men and could easily over power them. The vehicle is yours. Turn the vehicle around and drive it back into the hamlet you have just left. Give us the children and all the unpleasant things that have happened to you will stop. You will not be on wanted posters or the evening news. You will have your lives back. Just accept that you are playing a game that you cannot win. Accept that you are out of your depth. Accept defeat with dignity and you can preserve both your dignity and your continued existence."
The kids stared at Marion and Harley. The only sound was the sound of the engine and wheel on the road. Harley reached across and took the phone, turning off the speaker option.
"You didn't give Marion visions. Did you?"
"I can do many many things Walker."
"Yes, you can. But I didn't hear you say that you gave Marion those visions. You didn't. Or you would have said so. You aren't the only player in this game. And we are fighting alone. You're right, we haven't heard the whole story, and we are out of our depth. But you should listen closely, because this is important. You didn't take our lives away. This game took our lives away when didn't listen to it's warnings. So you can't give us our lives back. You want them, come and get them."
"I intend to Walker. Just recall that this was your decision."
"Just keep telling yourself that. There are too many forces shaping this for that to be true."
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