Volume One: The Road Out
Chapter Three
Verse Three: The Purity of the Bone Man
The Bone Man continued speaking to Harley, "You are not hard to find and not hard to follow. The events of the story are well known. And, of course, you have few places that you can run to at the moment."
"We seem to be managing. And if the story is so well known, how can you stop us? Doesn't the story need to be told?"
"The story needs to be told, but the actors can change. And the story has branches. Our story has the narrative for ten thousand years, the story that you are fighting for does not have a favourable track record."
"I guess that's our job to change then, isn't it?"
"Is that optimism, or false bravado intended to fool me?"
"It's more like an appraisal of the situation. If I heard you correctly, the band I'm playing for hasn't had gigs for a while so I have to change things."
The Bone Man chuckled, a sound like dice rattling in a cup.
"Good Luck. I am coming, and will be here soon."
The line went dead and Harley silently handed the phone to Marion.
"We're in worse trouble than before you know." Harley said as he drove. His voice remained calm and reasonable and he didn't take his eyes off the road as he spoke. Marion did notice that Harley's hands were clenching the steering wheel tightly enough that his knuckles were going white.
"Well, we have a shadow dog thing chasing us, which I can't imagine is ever a good thing. But we've found the kids, somebody actually helped us instead of just prodding us mysteriously or threatening us and we seem to be following what the story wants us to do. So how do you figure worse? I mean besides the shadow dog, because that thing was creepy and I barely saw it."
"Now, for all intents and purposes, we really are kidnapping Darius Salt's children. The real or fake or I don't know government agent looking guys know where we are and there aren't that many places to get off the highway for the next fifty miles or so. So we know are doing the criminal thing we're accused of, which will make us look more guilty for anything else they try to pin on us. And we're exposed and our direction and locations will be easy to predict until we have a chance to change that."
"Why do things always sound worse when you explain them?"
"Because I listen for danger before it eats me. That's why I'm the stable one."
"Do you mean that the guys chasing us will know where we are?" Fitzroy asked.
"They can't help but know," Harley said, "The highway doesn't allow for us to change routes much. Why?"
"Because I see cars blocking the road way down there." Fitzroy pointed.
"You have crazy good eyes kid," Marion said, "I wouldn't have seen that."
The land was flat and the road was visible well into the distance, Marion suspected that the block might still be several miles away, but he wasn't good at judging distance. What Marion saw was a series of white shapes lined across the highway, blocking it.
"I'm listening to him though, that looks like a road block. So we're turning around."
Harley brought the goblin to a halt on the empty highway and performed a neat three point turn and headed back in the opposite direction.
"But they're back there too and stuff aren't they?" Maia asked.
"They are, and we're running back and forth like a bad comedy routines. If we could hear the gods watching us right now, they'd be laughing."
The goblin lumbered back across highway it had already crossed making sounds that seemed to suggest the van was not pleased with the wasted effort. All four of the goblin's passengers scanned the landscape looking for a dirt road turn off they might have missed or at least a spot where the ditches on either side of the highway were gentle enough to accommodate an off road excursion. But soon enough the slight curve of the highway and the gentle hills of the landscape revealed a line of white vans blocking the road. Harley hit the brakes and immediately began a three point turn. But the slight cover given by the terrain meant that the goblin was far closer to the road block this time and the agents had quite obviously noticed the van and its occupants.
The lead agent pointed a finger at the group and suddenly Marion saw that he was pointing a gun and not a finger. Marion blinked, the agent hadn't drawn a gun, had merely pointed at them and then the finger was the barrel of a gun and the agent was holding it.
The gun fired and marion jumped as the round struck far to close to the goblin for comfort.
"Did you see that?" Marion asked as they ran, "He summoned a gun from nowhere."
"Nobody summoned anything Marion, He drew a gun, that what people do," Harley said, his gaze fixed on his driving, "My mind can accept a lot, but people don't summon weapons out of nothing."
"I did, in the other world, I summoned my tomahawks. I've done it three times now."
"In visions, this is the real world."
Marion shook his head, "I saw the agent do it. I don't know what the real world is anymore."
"Are we going back towards the other bad guys?" Maia asked.
"We are, because we don't have other options, because they've got us trapped." Fitzroy said quietly.
"They are attempted to trap us," Marion, "The trap is a giant net currently floating down upon us like a giant airborne jelly fish of entrapment with deadly tentacle stingers."
"Mr. Dreamer that didn't make sense." Maia said.
"Sorry forget I said anything. The trap isn't locked, remember that."
"I'd like to note that we are now officially being shot at, perhaps we should remember that?" Harley added.
"Also a valid point." Marion said as the goblin picked up speed, clunkering mightily towards the other road block.
Fitzroy looked back through the rear window, "They're getting back into their vehicles. They're going to follow us. We aren't going to be able to get away, because they're following us."
"Any reasonable plans Harley?"
"I'm going to run their blockade. Even if I have to use the goblin as a battering ram."
"Oh my. Is nice Harley about to go in the box?"
"Oh no. Nice Harley is doing fine, but people are shooting at a vehicle containing children and at this point I am out of more sensible ideas. Sadly, running the roadblock is currently leading as the most sensible idea left that we have."
"Fun fun fun." Marion said.
As they approached the roadblock, Marion and Harley quickly assessed it looking for weak points. Once they were close enough to see clearly, Marion's shoulders slumped. The vans were staggered in a double line across the road, broadsides facing the oncoming traffic.
"We can't break through that by force." Harley said flatly.
"The shoulder isn't bad, we could drive around them." Marion said cautiously.
"Not at high speed. We'd have to slow down. And they've graduated to shooting at us."
Harley slowed the vehicle to a stop about a hundred yards back from the road block.
"Step out of the vehicle!" A voice ordered through a bull horn.
"any ideas?" Marion asked.
"Step out of the vehicle or we will open fire." The voice added.
"Step out of the vehicle and get ready to run." Harley said.
Slowly, the ground climbed from the goblin to face the suited figures. The agents surrounded the vehicle. One agent stepped forward, "Escape is impossible, submit."
"Marion, now would be a really good time to have a conveniently useful vision or something." Harley said, his hands clenched into fists.
Marion wracked his brain. This was a story, he was part of it. That much was obvious. But the story was jumbled and he was clearly starting in the middle, and he couldn't untangle the two main story threads, the other world he kept getting pulled into and this world. In this world Marion kept getting the sense that a veil was being briefly lifted so he could see the way the world really was, but that was at odds with the fact that he kept getting pulled into an alternate world that seemed very fairy tale like in construction and obviously not the real world. What was the connection between the two things? He didn't know.
"You know it almost like everything is trying to tell us that this world isn't real." Marion said aloud.
The agent smiled and shook his head, "Incorrect, This world is temporary, irrelevant. What matters is the story. In the Shadowlands the story is immortal."
Marion wracked his brain. If the story world was what was important to them, if the story logic was what mattered then maybe they could be beaten with story logic.
"Harley, I've got a really stupid idea. If it doesn't work, you're going to have to rescue me."
Harley nodded, "If it doesn't work, I won't be around to rescue you. Get crazy."
Marion reached back to the feeling he'd had in the previous three attempts, the feel of his tomahawks in his hands. He felt ridiculous, like a kid playing make believe, the summoning had been a lot easier to justify in his head when he was in a fantasy world. He couldn't feel the tomahawks, it wasn't working.
The agent advanced and put a hand on his shoulder.
"This ends storyteller." The agent said.
Marion looked at the agent, with his unreal supernatural bureaucratic appearance. They all looked identical, the same hair, and nose and chin, as though stamped from a mold or generated by a computer program. This is a fantasy world, Marion realized, this is just as unreal as a mythic pseudo-Europe. No reason that magic wouldn't work in a world that summons armies of identical suit wearing drones.
That did it. The realization that the enemy was using storybook logic was what Marion needed and suddenly he could feel his tomahawks in his hands. Marion rammed Edgar- the tomahawk in his left hand- into the gut of the agent, causing the drone to double over. The other hand brought Victor's cutting edge chopping down through the exposed neck of the agent. As the blade cut through the agent's neck the body disintegrated into smoke and Marion spun through the misty remains of the agent to face the others.
The agents froze and took a step back in unison.
And Marion charged. The agents didn't stand a chance. They summoned up pistols, and this time Harley actually saw the guns form like congealing smoke into their hands. But they were much too slow. Marion flowed through them a hurricane composed of cutting edges, The agents billowed and exploded into smoke one by one leaving Marion standing breathing heavy at the centre of a slowly dispersing ring of smoke.
Harley stood, staring that the tomahawks in Marion's hands.
Harley took everything in for a brief moment and then, mentally collected, he nodded.
"Okay, now we run again. Everyone into the goblin."
They piled into the goblin and Harley inched the goblin around the roadblock on the shoulder. Behind them the vans from the previous road block were approaching.
"They won't be able to get around as easily. That will buy us some time. I'm going to run the goblin into the ground to get some distance on them before they can chase again." Harley said.
As they picked up speed, Harley's cell phone rang.
"That'll be the Bone Man to give us our next threat, I imagine. i have to drive. marion can you listen to him rant?"
"With pleasure," Marion said and grabbed the phone, "This is Dreamer. How may I help you."
"You will regret that decision, I think."
"I doubt it. I can beat your goons now. I know how to play this game."
"Indeed, you are awakening to your role. Allow me to submerge you in it."
"What are you talking about."
"You have awakened, but not fully, you are unclean. I will purify you and let you truly awaken to your role, that should remove you from play effectively. Consider it my gift. I would also like to point out that only your most admirable progress in awakening has made this possible."
"What?" Marion began to say and suddenly an audible wave of pressure burst from the receiver of the phone and knocked Marion against the window of the car causing him to drop the phone, the wave clipped Fitzroy in the back seat as well, driving him back into the corner of the seat, his head knocking hard against the seatbelt ring.
"Marion, can you hear me?" Harley said loudly, "Marion are you there? Can you hear my voice, Marion?"
Marion didn't respond, and the silence stretched.
Harley reluctantly took his eyes of the road and glanced at Marion. his friend lay slumped forward in the seat, eyes open but staring blankly into nowhere. Harley noted that Marion had a nosebleed. The cellphone lay in Marion's lap, the call disconnected.
"Marion! Marion wake up! Can you hear me?"
"He's not here anymore. He's in the Shadowlands," Fitzroy said, his voice wavering as he spoke.
"What do you mean? How do you know where he is?" Harley asked.
"I can see him there. He's not here anymore, they pushed him out."
"Out of where?"
"I don't know, but I can see here at the same time as I can see there, "Fitzroy said, speaking in a halting wavering voice, "It hurts. I can't focus on either."
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