A Shrouded World 4

by Mark Tufo

  I had to agree with him. We’d been walking and eating, not so far that going back would be difficult. In fact, I was contemplating telling Trip we should stop to eat, odds were pretty good he’d have no idea he’d just chowed down. I was looking for the vendor, who was looking to the street and waving his arm. I followed to where he was waving. Shouldn’t have been too much of a shock. I grabbed Trip’s arm.

  “We need to go.” I was hustling him along.

  “Cops, right? It’s always the cops, man. It’s getting so you can’t even carry a couple of kilos anymore.”

  “Kilos of what? Forget it, between whatever your drug of the month is and the armament I’m carrying, we’re going to end up in some hot water.”

  “Oooh, I could use a shower.”

  “Not that kind.” We were moving as fast as I dared go without drawing any attention to ourselves when I saw the flashing of lights coming up behind us. Red and green, which I thought was weird, like we were getting pulled over by the elf patrol or something.

  “You there!” a voice said. I was actively ignoring it; Trip turned and waved. “Stop walking!” he commanded. “Yeah, I’m talking to you two fashion plates, quit walking!” I did as he asked, so did Trip. How much more would I do, though? I couldn’t let him frisk me, I definitely couldn’t let him take me into custody. How far would I go? Harming an innocent man was not high up on my list. Sure, I’d always had an issue with authority figures—didn’t mean I wanted harm to befall them, I just wanted them to leave me alone.

  “I’m just carrying for a friend!” Trip blurted out, his hands held high above his head.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I said. The cop had stopped his car and was exiting his vehicle. Onlookers were keeping a wide berth of us. If I was going to do something, it was going to have to be quick as I’m sure he had called for backup. I was reaching for my sidearm; my initial plan was to forcibly take his car and get the hell out of there.

  “Steve! Steve, there you are!” A man was approaching us.

  I was wondering what the hell was going on because he was smiling, even if it was forced, and he was definitely talking to me, though I’m pretty sure my name wasn’t Steve.

  “You found Uncle Vinny!” the man said. He was weaving his way through some of the people that had stopped to watch the drama unfold.

  “That’s me! I’m Uncle Vinny!” Trip said as he let one arm down and pointed to himself. The old stoner had caught on to whatever was happening much quicker than I had.

  “Steve, you get that bicycle part I asked for?” The man had some familiar facial features, but other than that I was certain I’d never seen him before in my life.

  “He sure did!” I about lost my shit when Trip grabbed my rifle through the poncho and was pulling it outward for display.

  “You’re going to get us killed or worse.” I hissed at Trip.

  “Worse than killed? We’re not in a crumbling space buckle, are we?” He looked around.

  “I’ve been looking for you guys. We need to fix Robert’s bike before he comes home from his friend’s house,” the sort-of-recognizable man said, now within arm’s length.

  “Bill, you know these two?” the officer asked.

  Bill, pretending like he just now noticed the cop, turned and said “Oh hey Jimmy, yeah this is Steve, Steve Rogers; and my Uncle Vinny. I told you about him, he’s from over in Midgard, he’s special needs,” he whispered. “Steve keeps an eye on him.”

  “I…I think so, the last time we played cards, right?” the cop answered tentatively.

  “Yeah…yeah, that’s it. Do you mind if I get them home? Robert’s birthday is coming up and I promised him that new mountain bike, and the part I’ve been waiting on finally came in.”

  Pretty sure the cop wasn’t buying half of what Bill was selling, but they appeared to be if not be friends then at least acquaintances, and Bill apparently had some weight in the community. The cop looked to Bill, then me, then Trip who was smiling like an eight-year-old on Christmas day.

  “All right; curfew is coming up, get them to your house before they do anything else.”

  So fucking close, I just couldn’t help myself. “Ummm, exactly what did we do before?”

  “Shit,” Bill said almost imperceptibly.

  “You got a problem?” The cop who had been getting into his car was now coming around the front.

  “I merely asked a question. Is that not allowed?” I realized my fuck up for what it was and still didn’t give a shit. As far as the cop knew, I’d done nothing wrong except wander into his city. He was reaching for his version of a nightstick, a large silver club that had a small knobby mace at the end that looked like it could do some serious damage.

  “Right about now,” Trip said. He was staring off into space.

  “All cars, all cars we have a 45-22, I repeat 45-22, officer down, corner of Fyris Wolds and Kormet” came over the radio. The cop looked torn between busting my skull open and helping a fallen comrade. In the end, I think it was the thought of how much additional paperwork he would be forced to do if my brains leaked out that persuaded him to move on, definitely not any altruism on his part.

  “Bill, get your uncle and this other fucking half-wit home. Steve Rogers, I catch you out alone and we’re going to have a private little talk.”

  I flipped him off, he looked at me strangely but got in his car and sped off. Bill let out a sigh of relief as the burgeoning crowd dispersed, slightly upset that no blood was shed.

  Trip was smiling. “You just told the cop you loved him.”

  “So apparently the bird doesn’t mean ‘fuck you’ here?”

  “Well, sort of, but in a more tender and loving way.” Trip was fighting back tears.

  “That’s just wonderful. Oh hey, thanks Bill, I think we were in for a rough spot there.”

  “Come on, let’s go,” he said as he urged us on.

  “Where?” I asked.

  “My house,” he replied.

  “Why would you do that? Do you know us?”

  “The question is, do you know Jack Walker?”

  I stopped in my tracks. “Do you know where he is?”

  “That answers that question. He left in the middle of the day two nights ago, I’ve been looking for him ever since. He’s my brother, though he doesn’t think so.”

  “Huh?” I was confused. Jack and I weren’t exactly lifelong friends, but we shared a certain camaraderie, definitely a bond forged in combat, and he’d yet to say anything about a brother. If anything, I assumed he was an only child. Or if he had a brother, he disliked him enough to never mention him.

  “He kept telling me he wasn’t from here and that he didn’t have a brother,” Bill explained.

  “All right, get us to your house. You need to tell us everything,” I said.

  Bill all of a sudden became hesitant. Can’t blame him. Here were two people he did not know, and he would have had to be blind and just plain dumb to think I wasn’t armed. And I was asking him to bring us into his home.

  “I’ll explain what I can, and you might believe some of it, but we’re not from here. We were brought to help Jack, that’s it.”

  He seemed to make up his mind; here was a guy who believed Jack to be his brother and I just sincerely told him I was here to help.

  “Is it dinnertime?” Trip asked. “I could really go for some more cool cats.”

  “Sorry, Lynn won’t allow those in our house. Considers them damn near poison—I have to sneak them at work.”

  “Lynn?” I asked. I was trolling through the Rolodex of information I knew about Jack, and the name Lynn struck a chord. “Jack’s wife is here?”

  “What? No. Lynn’s my wife,” Bill said, recoiling.

  “Whoa,” Trip added. “Talk about a mind fuck,” he said very shrewdly.

  Something clicked in Bill’s head as he put the puzzle pieces together. “Wait, he thinks Lynn’s his wife? That would explain some of his reaction, but why would he think
that? I mean, he and I vied for Lynn’s affection years ago, and they dated for a while before they broke it off. But Lynn and I have been married for a long, long time. He had accepted that, or so I thought, but when I saw him again the other day he turned white when she walked into the room. Like he’d never really gotten over her.”

  “Yeah, the Jack I know was very much in love with Lynn,” I said.

  “I…I’m having a hard time with this. Jack said he didn’t know me; I just thought maybe something was wrong in his head or something. I hadn’t seen him in fifteen years. Who knows what could have happened in that time? Are you seriously going to tell me there are two Jacks? Like, one is a clone?”

  “More like alternate realities, and your Jack is still very much missing. I guess my Jack is still missing, too. But I’m pretty sure the Jack you encountered belongs in a different world.”

  “Your world?” Bill asked.

  “Actually no, if you can believe that. See this stoner here? Well, he actually has the ability to jump time and dimensions—and no, I don’t know how; not sure he could tell you either.” We were both looking to Trip, who was licking the wrapper of a long-gone Slender Joe.

  “I feel like I’m going to fade away from hunger,” he stopped licking to say.

  Apparently, he’d forgotten about the six cool cats he’d just scarfed down.

  “Jack and I were sucked into a place called Atlantis. Something had happened there; the government had been doing experiments that ended up ripping a hole through the fabric of their very existence. Brought with it a bunch of monsters.”

  “You saved them though, right? Those people of Atlantis? Like, you are time warriors or something?”

  “Not so much.” I had a pained expression on my face. “Atlantis was doomed before we ever got there. No, our job was to keep the tear from opening any further and devouring a much wider path of existences.”

  “Did you succeed?”

  “Well, we’re still here, so I’m thinking so.”

  “Then what brought Jack to Valhalla?”

  I looked to Trip for an answer. There was going to be nothing forthcoming there; he was off on his own personal space mission.

  “Jack kept saying we were in danger,” Bill continued. “That we needed to prepare. He was talking about some monsters he called ‘night runners’ and said that the hills had lava pools. So much of what he was saying sounded crazy, I just wanted to get him the help that I thought he desperately needed. No part of me thought what he was saying could actually hold any truth. Even now I’m not so convinced. I mean, you seem decent enough, but I don’t know either of you.”

  “You felt something, Bill, or you wouldn’t have saved our asses back there with the cop.”

  “It was the camouflage utilities, I just figured you had to know Jack. He was all decked out in gear, some of which I’d never seen before. He’s my brother, or at least I thought he was. Even if he’s not, I’m still worried about him.”

  We had approached the walkway leading into Bill’s house. He hesitated now that he realized he was about to allow two strangers inside his castle. It was Lynn who broke the tension as she opened the front door.

  “Did you find him?” she asked her husband, then looked at Trip and me.

  “Damn,” I said under my breath. “Now I know why Jack was in a rush to get home.” I made abundantly sure that no one else heard that. Might not have mattered, as Trip catcalled. Come to find out he’d smelled dinner, its aroma wafting through the open front door. He took that as a sign of welcome.

  “Friends of his,” Bill answered.

  Lynn looked up and down the street. “Get them in here before someone says something.”

  I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was strange here, like the entire city was wound tight. Almost how I pictured the Soviet Union might have been, everyone worried about the KGB coming to pick your ass up for some perceived infraction, your neighbor turning you in for not drinking your vodka every morning—that kind of tension. Bill ushered us inside; not sure if he was relieved or distressed about it.

  “Can I take that?” Lynn asked of my poncho after she shut the door.

  “Don’t be alarmed,” I told her as I moved it over my head.

  “Albert Messinger!” Bill said, I think in vain. Would love to hear that story someday.

  “Sorry,” I said as I gingerly unstrapped my weapon.

  “Can I put that in the closet?” Lynn asked. She grabbed it like one who was unfamiliar with snakes might, like it could bite at any moment.

  “Lynn this is…hell, I don’t even know your names.” Bill looked absolutely terrified that he had opened his door up to strangers. I was thinking he was regretting his decision more and more by the minute. If I didn’t get him on my side soon, there was a good chance he’d call the cops.

  “Yeah, I guess ‘Captain America’ isn’t going to work.” I smiled. He did not return it; apparently Steve Rogers was just an average Joe in this world.

  “Mike. My name is Mike Talbot. You have nothing to fear from me or Trip.” As I said those words, there was a loud noise in the kitchen.

  “Nothing broke!” Trip assured us.

  He had spilled a large pot and a couple of pans onto the floor. “Looking for food,” he said sheepishly.

  “If even some of what you said is true, I think you just being here is cause for concern,” Bill said.

  “Bill!” Lynn admonished him. “These are our guests, and they know Jack.”

  “Not our Jack, Lynn.”

  “What?” She was clearly confused.

  I gave her a quick rundown of what I’d told Bill. There was skepticism, but maybe not as deeply rooted as what Bill was feeling. But really, how could I blame either one of them? I was a damn cliché and possibly a crazed psychotic one. “I’m from the future and I have a dire message!” Wasn’t that the gist of how most science fiction novels started out?

  “So, the night runners are real?” She placed a hand on her throat.

  “We ran into a group of them before we got here,” I told her. “Spent the night in some less than desirable accommodations.”

  “How have we not heard of this?” she asked.

  I didn’t have an answer for that. Were the night runners such a new phenomenon to this world that news of them hadn’t spread? Was the news tightly controlled by a government that hadn’t wanted the populace to know? But they were real and they had wreaked some devastation. I hadn’t felt any of the telltale signs of a changing in reality—that cold snap or the pulsing of time waves that would signify we had changed from one time to another. I had to assume everything I had done and that we had experienced was in the here and now, and, if that was the case, this place was in trouble. I looked out the window: we were minutes from night. The closet Lynn had placed my rifle in now felt entirely too far away.

  “Robert, you said the name Robert, is that your kid?” I asked. Referring to the bicycle part I was supposed to have.

  “We have two kids, Robert and Nicole,” Lynn replied.

  “Where are they?”

  “School. They both have afterschool activities.”

  “Can you get ahold of them, make them come home early?” I was once again looking out the window, the sun nearly a thing of the past. I let the curtain fall back into place as I watched a police cruiser pull up, its Christmas lights flashing, immediately followed by a second and a third.

  “Shit. Trip, we have to go!” It would have been impossible not to know what was happening as the strobe light effect was illuminating the entire front of the house.

  “What’s going on?” Lynn asked.

  “I’ll talk to them,” Bill said.

  I didn’t think that was going to do any good. At no time had three cruisers ever pulled up to someone’s home and not taken someone with them. Unless Officer Jimmy wanted to take me up on my middle finger offer.

  “They’ve drawn their guns, Bill. I don’t think you should go out there.”

 
; “Bill Walker, this is Lieutenant Jonson with the Valhalla Officer Department, we need for you and every occupant in that household to come out with your hands above your head.”

  I had to stop Trip from doing that.

  “What?” he asked. “They always serve food in jail.”

  I could see some of the neighbors coming out of their houses to watch the show, some deciding to watch from the relative safety of their windows.

  “How much trouble am I looking at?” I asked. If giving myself up meant Bill and Lynn would stay out of the thick of it, then it was something I needed to mull over.

  “The rifle alone could get you hanged,” Lynn answered. Bill had tried to prevent her from saying that. Can’t blame him. If she’d said a ticket, maybe a warning, I would have given myself up and got our potentially dangerous asses out of their home with no further trouble. Not many people are willingly going to give themselves up to a public execution, though.

  “Hanged?” Of all the ways one could go out, this was pretty far down my list. “No matter how this goes down, you have got to tell them I was holding you both captive.” There was no sense in all of us hanging from the gallows; I was going to do my best to prevent that scenario.

  “If you don’t come out in two minutes, we will be forced to come in!” the lieutenant shouted through his radio megaphone.

  I went to the closet and retrieved my rifle, then went to the side of the window and slid it open. “I’m sending out the hostages!” I yelled.

  “What are you doing?” Lynn asked.

  “Saving you; you didn’t ask for any of this. What good am I doing here if I get you both killed?”

  Bill had grabbed Lynn’s shoulder and was urging her forward. “What are you going to do?” he asked me.

  “Oh, don’t you worry about Ponch here, he always has a plan,” Trip replied as a puff of smoke blew past my face. “Turkish hash, this stuff is wonderful.”

  “Go!” I urged.

  “We’re coming out!” Bill shouted.

  I was keeping an eye on the cops, I didn’t like the way they seemed so ready to spring into action. I was getting a feeling they would shoot first and fill out the paperwork later. Bill and Lynn got to the edge of the walkway with no added holes before two cops ran up quickly and ushered them into the back of a cruiser.