Together We Will Go

by J. Michael Straczynski

  * * *

  Hi, I’m Audio Recorder!

  Tap the icon to start recording.

  KAREN: Can I just say how much I’m loving this? The worst thing about the Spider is that it stops me from going out and doing things because moving is pain. But right now I don’t have to move. I don’t have to do anything. I can just stand here and let the music wash over me. The bass roars through my body like I’m not even here. I can feel it in my bones. My skin vibrates where the music touches it, like if I close my eyes, I AM the music. One big, bad, beautiful wall of sound.

  Lisa! Hey, Lisa! Are you okay? Over here!

  Shit, I lost her. Hey, excuse me, did you see where those guys were going?

  END RECORDING

  * * *

  Hi, I’m Audio Recorder!

  Tap the icon to start recording.

  TYLER: So I’ve been listening to Clusterfuk ever since they came out with Lost Road two years ago. Everybody’s been saying the band stalled out, but I just saw Jimmy Rose pull out a Gibson custom limited edition electric guitar and those things retail for at least five grand. He didn’t have one on his last album or any of the concert videos, so if he’s confident enough to bring it on the road, that means he’s cool if it gets smashed up by accident and that is not the sign of a band that’s stalled out.

  I don’t know if my phone mic is sensitive enough to pick it up, but they’ve been playing “Vizion” for the last ten minutes, which is only a four-minute song so they’ve added a lot of new lyrics. I wonder if they’re going for a Grateful Dead thing, adding more to the songs as they go.

  VOICE 10: Oh my God, I love how you got your face blue, it looks so natural.

  TYLER: Thanks.

  VOICE 10: How’d you do it?

  TYLER: Born that way.

  VOICE 10: Cool.

  TYLER: So would you like to get a beer or—

  KAREN: Tyler, hey, have you seen Lisa?

  TYLER: Not since we came in. Why? Is she okay?

  KAREN: I’m not sure, I saw her with some guys and—

  END RECORDING

  * * *

  * * *

  AdminMark

  I called D and gave him the info while Karen, Vaughn, Tyler, and I started searching for Lisa.

  We found them behind the porta potties behind the main tent. Lisa was unconscious on the ground and they were just getting her skirt up when they saw us coming. We yelled as loud as we could and they started to run.

  Then Dylan came out of nowhere and launched himself at them like something out of a goddamn comic book. He threw the guy who’d been on top of her into a wall, then punched another guy right in the face. So now instead of scaring them off, they’re drunk and in for the fight. Karen grabbed the third guy’s hair and yanked him back as Vaughn pulled off his belt and swung at him, hitting him hard across the face with the buckle. Then the first guy got back up and came at me, and I grabbed a plastic chair and hit him in the head as hard as I could.

  Dylan threw Lisa over his shoulder and yelled “Go!” We ran for the exit as they came after us, two of them on their phones, calling for backup.

  We’d just reached the parking lot when Tyler went down, breathing hard. He couldn’t talk but waved for us to keep going. Vaughn and I ran back to get him, which slowed us down, and I guess their buddies showed up because now there were six of them coming at us hollering, “Gonna kick your ass, sonsofbitches!”

  Then Karen moved like I’ve never seen her move before, running up alongside Dylan and yelling, “Keys!”

  “Right pocket!”

  She fished in his pocket, came up with the keys to the bus, and took off. She was crying hard and I thought it was because she was scared, but when I caught her eye I saw that she was in pain, like a lot of pain, but she kept running anyway. She got to the bus and opened the doors and we piled inside as Dylan jumped into the driver’s seat, gunned the engine, and took off. The shitbags chased us halfway down the parking lot, throwing beer bottles and empty garbage cans and anything else they could get their hands on, then we hit the main road and kept going.

  I shook Lisa, and her eyes fluttered open a little. “Lisa, it’s Mark, can you hear me?”

  She nodded, but didn’t respond.

  I shook her again, pushing against whatever they’d given her. “Lisa! Stay with us. We’re getting you to a hospital.”

  “No!” she said, slurring her words. “No hospital! They’ll find me.”

  “Someone should check you out—”

  “No! I’ll be okay! No hospital! Promise me!”

  “Okay,” I said, though I didn’t like it. “I promise.”

  Then she closed her eyes and passed out again.

  Tyler knew first aid, because of course he would, so while we looked for a place to crash he checked her pulse and respiration every few minutes until we reached an Embassy Suites. Some of us still wanted to get her to a doctor, but Tyler seemed pretty sure she’d be okay.

  “I’m not a doctor,” he said, “but I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals and I’ve been through this before with friends. She’s way out of it, but her vitals are solid and she can come out of it when she has to. I’ll put her in my room and sleep on the couch so I can keep an eye on her. If she goes south even a little, I’ll dial 9-1-1, so either way she’ll be safe.”

  I nodded, relieved but still pissed, not just at what those assholes did to Lisa, but because they were gonna run as soon as they saw us coming until D threw the first punch and got their backs up so they had to come after us.

  We need to discuss this.

  * * *

  TylerW1998

  Midnight. Finished checking Lisa for the third time. Her heart rate was a little slow earlier and I was getting concerned, but now it’s back to normal. I woke her up enough to check her hand-eye coordination and ask if she knew her name and who I was. She was groggy but answered correctly and seemed more clearheaded than before, so I made sure she drank more water without throwing up, tucked her in, and went back to the couch.

  I’m glad I was able to help because it’s the only thing keeping me from feeling like a completely useless asshole.

  When the fight started, everybody jumped in except me because I was afraid that if I started in on these guys my heart would pick that moment to give out. I’m not afraid of dying, I’ve been over that a long time, but if I went down during the fight they’d have to leave me behind or stick around with me being dead and the police would shut down the bus and I’d ruin everything for everyone.

  So all I could do was stand there with my thumb up my ass as everyone else did the fighting, even Karen, who can barely handle the pain of walking across a room. And Vaughn! Holy shit! He whipped off his belt and wrapped it around his fist in one move, swinging this big metal horseshoe-buckle like a fucking ninja, and took one of the guys down so hard he’s gonna be bleeding for a week.

  And I did nothing. I couldn’t even make it out of the parking lot. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t walk… I was so bad off they had to pick me up, and the whole time Vaughn’s carrying me with his right arm, he’s got that belt in his left hand and his pants keep slipping down, so he has to run and carry me and keep pulling up his pants so he doesn’t trip.

  I slowed them down so bad that if it wasn’t for Karen, we never would’ve made it out of there in one piece.

  Once Lisa’s on her feet, maybe I should just get off the bus at the next stop, find a bridge somewhere, and jump. It’d be easier for everybody.

  * * *

  AdminMark

  Nine a.m., and this happened.

  From: Jay Ellis JEllis@charterpublishingpartners.com

  To: Mark Antonelli MDAntonelli@gmail.com

  Subject: In Regard to “The Long Road”

  Dear Mr. Antonelli:

  My apologies for the delay in replying to your email and the attached proposal we received last week. As you can imagine, given the subject matter, I had to run the material past the rest of the editorial staf
f here at Charter as well as our people in Legal and Business Affairs.

  On the one hand, we find the subject matter intriguing and timely. On the other hand, for obvious legal reasons, we cannot be seen as condoning or in any way encouraging you in the actions described in your proposal. When and if the manuscript is completed, it will be necessary for our attorneys to review the book before giving any consideration to its publication in order to assess whether or not there could be the potential for ex post facto litigation.

  As you state in your email, the release forms signed by all parties should help mitigate the risk of publication, but they can still be voided if it can be shown that they were signed under false or misleading pretenses, not to mention the many legal issues involved with the journey itself.

  There’s much that I can’t say in regard to your proposal, so let me just say this: if the project is completed as described in the proposal, if no illegal actions occur during the process of gathering material, if this produces a completed manuscript that can be submitted for examination by our editorial staff, and if all legal concerns can be satisfactorily addressed, we would be open to the possibility of publication.

  Your proposed journey is equal parts dangerous and fascinating. It could be useful, prescriptive, and of great value to readers in similar situations. It could also be seen as promoting actions that society deems inappropriate, or of trivializing the subject should the treatment be too light. If you condone, you lose; if you condemn, you also lose. How you navigate those diametrically opposed positions is something that I suspect even you do not yet know, but are hoping to determine along the way.

  I will not say best of luck for all the obvious reasons.

  I will say only to be careful.

  Regards,

  Jay Ellis

  Editorial Director

  Charter Publishing Partners, Ltd.

  * * *

  Karen_Ortiz

  I was crying last night when I told Mark that I wouldn’t be joining them for breakfast, maybe not lunch either, that I was in a lot of pain because of what happened at the festival and I really needed to sleep. He said it was probably safer to stay off the road for a while anyway.

  So I walked/crawled/staggered down the hall to my room and collapsed on the bed, feeling like every inch of my body was being ripped apart. I had to bury my face in the pillow to keep from screaming. You don’t know what it’s like. It’s the worst agony in the world. I doubled up on painkillers but they barely did anything, all I could do was lie there and cry and hurt, God, it hurt so much. I must’ve blacked out to escape the pain, because the next thing I remember is waking up on the floor an hour later.

  The pain also woke up, like insects under my skin trying to bite their way out. I climbed back into bed and dropped sleeping pills on top of the painkillers, but it was still almost dawn before I finally fell asleep. Didn’t wake up until two thirty. Everybody was texting to check on me. I replied to a couple but let the rest go so I could order in some soup and tea and toast because that usually helps me stop shaking but in this case, yeah, not so much.

  I need a real meal, I thought. Bacon and eggs would be wonderful, but it’s too late for breakfast and I don’t know if I can hold it down right now anyway.

  It was almost dark by the time I was strong enough to step outside.

  So of course the first person I saw was Lisa.

  She came over to ask if I was okay, and even though I knew that what happened wasn’t her fault, that she was the one who got attacked, I was angry and in pain and I wasn’t thinking right and I totally lit into her.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I yelled. “You never let somebody touch your drink or hand you a cup at one of those things! That’s the rule, you know that!”

  “I do! I’m sorry!”

  “Don’t fucking I’m sorry me, Lisa! You were out of control! You didn’t give a shit what happened to you or us, or—”

  “It wasn’t on purpose, none of it was! When I get like that, I don’t go that far!” She was crying and yelling, not at me but at herself. “It’s like there’s some part of me that thinks she can’t be hurt, that she’s too smart to get roofied, so when he handed me the cup the front of my brain didn’t even think twice and the whole time the back of my brain is screaming, What are you doing?!

  “I’m not stupid!” she said, fists balled up and crying hard. “When I get manic it’s like I can’t see something dangerous when it’s right in front of me, or I just don’t care! I mean, shit, nobody else does, so why should I? And I’m sorry you’re in pain and Tyler got screwed up! I’m sorry about all of it! It’s tearing me apart and I can’t stand being in my own skin anymore and if there’s anyone who can understand what that feels like it’s got to be you or I am completely fucking alone here!”

  “You’re not alone, you asshole!” I said, and I realized I was crying too. “None of us are! That’s the whole reason we’re doing this! So we don’t have to be alone, so we can rely on each other! We do care about you!”

  “Bullshit! I’ve seen the way you look at me. I piss you off!”

  “Oh, hell yeah. Hugely. Like all the time. You’re a jerk, but that doesn’t mean we don’t care.”

  “I’m not a jerk!”

  I just stared at her.

  “I’m not,” she said, and laughed. “I’m just fucked in the head, that’s all. I’m nutty as squirrel shit.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “Squirrel shit?”

  “My aunt used to say that. Well, she said squirrel poo, but I think squirrel shit is funnier.”

  “It is,” I said, and I could feel my mood softening. “Look, I’m sorry I yelled. I didn’t mean to get angry, I’m just tired and sore and we were all scared for you—”

  “I know… and I’m sorry, I really am, and thank you. Mark said you were the one who saw me and figured out something was wrong. If you hadn’t stepped up—”

  “I’m just glad we were able to find you. You should’ve seen Vaughn. He went full-scale road warrior on those guys.”

  “I heard, and I feel so bad now about giving him such shit.”

  “Are you all right otherwise? They dosed you pretty hard.”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Tyler was great. I started calling him Nurse T. He thinks it was either roofies or GHB. Still got a headache, but it’s nowhere near as bad as it was.”

  “Good, I’m glad.”

  She backhanded the tears from her cheek. “Can I at least buy you breakfast? Make up a little for last night?”

  “They’re only serving dinner, and your card’s maxed out, remember?”

  “Not a problem. I stole one of Mark’s cards the night I slept in his tub. Stupid jerk hasn’t even realized it yet.”

  So we went inside the hotel restaurant and split a Cobb salad with extra egg and bacon.

  * * *

  TylerW1998

  Once I was sure Lisa was going to be okay, I ducked out for breakfast around nine, then came back, checked her again, and crashed hard. When I woke up, it was almost five and she was gone. I changed and went outside and found Vaughn sitting at a concrete patio table in the courtyard.

  “Hey,” I said. Not the smartest conversation starter, but it’s all I had. “Nice day.”

  He nodded back at me. “It is, indeed,” he said. “I checked the weather and it looks like clear skies for a while, maybe a little rain later tonight, so driving conditions shouldn’t be too bad as long as we get going soon.” I get the feeling that deep inside, Vaughn’s one of us “history of the watch” people.

  “Have you seen Lisa?” I asked.

  Vaughn nodded. “She’s in the restaurant with Karen.”

  “Should we go in there and break it up before somebody gets hurt?”

  “No need. They were having a bite together and laughing. So either they patched things up or one of them is an alien imposter and needs to be turned over to Homeland Security.”

  “Well, I’ll keep an eye out for tentacles,” I
said, and the smart part of my brain jumped in front of the stupid part of my brain before it could say especially the hentai kind because no way was I going to try to explain that one to Vaughn.

  Instead I started to apologize for being totally fucking useless during the festival fight, but he waved it away like it was nothing, wouldn’t even let me finish.

  “You know what I’ve decided?” he said. “I’ve decided most people are morons.”

  “Okay, maybe a bit broad—”

  “The reason they’re morons is they spend years, decades, hell, their whole lives regretting or apologizing for things nobody else even remembers. They carry those things around like bags of sand that keep them from going to all the places they could’ve gone and would’ve gone if they hadn’t been so busy thinking about the goddamn sand.

  “You want to go around hauling sandbags, that’s your business, but don’t do it on my account, because I never thought twice about it. We’re in this together, we do what we can when the moment comes that we have to do it.”

  Then he smiled in this kind of embarrassed way and shook his head. “Damn, sometimes I sound old even to me. But I’m not. I’m not that fucking old. I’ve just given it all a lot of thought.”

  “Is that why you kicked in the money to get us into the festival?”

  He shrugged. “I had it, they didn’t. Not a big deal.”

  “I’m just surprised you were carrying around that much cash.”

  He looked at me for a second, like he was making a decision. Then I guess he must have made it because he stood and said, “You want to see something I’ll bet you’ve never seen before?”

  He led me into the empty bus, reached under his seat to pull out one of the two suitcases he’d brought on board, snapped open the latches, and pulled out a bag slightly bigger than a shaving kit. Unzipped it.