by Gareth Otton
“Say that again,” he demanded.
“What? That we can’t destroy this.”
“No, about getting stronger. That’s it, that’s what we need to do.”
“You got some kind of Dream steroids I don’t know about?” Tad asked, trying for funny but the joke falling flat.
“You bet I do,” Tony answered. “And you’re looking at them.”
He tapped his own chest, then nodded at Rodney and then at Thomas. It was a testament to how tired Tad felt after trying to break the dreamcatcher nonstop for the last hour that he didn’t realise what Tony meant at first. However, slowly the meaning sank in and he shook his head.
“No, there’s got to be another way. I’m not—”
“Tad, if you say you’re not ready one more time, I’m going to get you out of here by beating you to death so at least your ghost can leave,” Tony snapped. “If there was ever a time to take advantage of who you are, it’s now.”
As always when Tony spoke like this, Tad’s anger spiked. “Tony, I’ve told you before. I am not Joshua King. I will not—”
“Do you care if Tad merges with you just so he can learn your skills and get stronger?” Tony interrupted, speaking to Rodney. “Or what about you? Would you let Tad Proxy for you in return for him learning everything you could ever teach about politics?”
Both ghosts hesitated when they were put on the spot. However, both said it wouldn’t bother them.
“See. No one cares. Just you. What does it matter if you’re using them if they don’t care?”
“I care,” Tad snapped, refusing to back down. “I have to live by my standards, Tony.”
“So by your standards you can watch Rodney and Thomas slowly go mad? Or is your new standard to force ghosts to move on whether they are ready or not?”
“That’s not fair,” Tad said and was about to elaborate, but Tony was getting worked up.
“Fair? It’s not fair that the kids Amber rescued are losing their minds because other kids bullied them relentlessly. It’s not fair that they were dead in the first place. It’s not fair that I died at fourteen instead of getting to live and grow like normal people. It’s not fair that you had to lose Charles and Miriam because of an arsehole like Joshua King. The world isn’t fair, but that doesn’t mean we should stop living.”
“I haven’t stopped living,” Tad complained.
“Yes you have!” Tony screamed, pushed over the edge by Tad’s stubborn refusal. “You are a Proxy, Tad. When Charles, Miriam, and even Maggie were here, you’d never been happier. I know there are trade-offs, but you were content with your family and since they’ve been gone, there is a hole inside you that you won’t fill because you’re too afraid it will empty right out again. Don’t shake your head. I’ve been in that head, remember. I know you as well as you know yourself. Keeping Charles here, helping Miriam watch over Kate, helping solve Maggie’s murder, and even helping me have been amongst the most fulfilling experiences of your life.” Tears actually leaked from his eyes as he said, “You know full well I love you like family. I know you love us as well, and that’s why it hurt so much when King took them from us. But for you to close yourself off from ever taking on new ghosts for fear of feeling that way again… they’d hate you for that. Worse, they’d think you were selfish.”
“Selfish?” Tad questioned, though he nearly choked on the word as he struggled to hold back his own tears.
“Yes, selfish. Because you’re so afraid of getting hurt that you’ll put everyone else at risk to protect yourself from it. You’re making excuses to get out of doing what needs to be done. You need more power to get out of this trap and there are two batteries here ready and waiting. There’s no downside. They both want you to Proxy for them, and whether you want to admit it or not, you need to Proxy for them.”
“There is a downside,” Tad said, not to Tony, but to Thomas and Rodney. “If you agree, there are no half measures. The first time we merge, I know everything about your life like I lived it myself. You do the same with me. There are no secrets. You will remember things you wish you forgot, and you will have to live knowing that someone else shares your deepest, darkest thoughts. Can you live with that?”
Neither ghost answered for a long minute, but finally Rodney said, “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try. I stayed behind after I died because I wanted to help people. I have been hanging around with you because I thought that around you is where I can do the most good. I’d be pretty hypocritical if I backed out now.”
“See, Rodney’s in,” Tony pressed. “And you?” he asked of Thomas.
The politician glanced at Tad and held his breath, weighing his options. Tad could tell he was reluctant, but he nodded his head.
“The long and short of it is I’m not ready to move on,” he said. “I have things to atone for before I go, and I’m not achieving that anytime soon. If I want to stick around, I’ll need a Proxy to keep me sane, so I have to do this eventually. And like him,” he nodded at Rodney. “You’re at the centre of the things I want to help with. If I’m going to Proxy with anyone, it might as well be with you.”
“Okay,” Tony said, clapping his hands like he was a cheerleader trying to lift everyone’s spirits. “Not the glowing commitment I was looking for, but it’ll do.” Looking at Tad he said, “Come on, mate. Time to shit or get off the pot. We’ve got stuff to do and you’re not going to get it done sitting on your arse in the middle of Texas.”
Part of Tad’s mind was screaming at him to say no, to shut Tony down and find another way out of this. But Tony’s words had sunk in and he recognised that part of him for the traitorous voice it was. Tony was right, he needed to get out of here, and every minute wasted was time he could be helping someone else.
A new thought struck that triggered his guilt again in a different way. Would he even be in this situation if he had followed Tony’s advice before and accepted these ghosts sooner? Not only could he break out of this trap, but with Thomas’ political knowledge he might have been able to head off this bill and it wouldn’t have pushed Jacob to such extremes.
So many what ifs, he thought to himself.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said, and Tony clapped for joy.
“Thank God. It’s about time,” Tony said. “Welcome back buddy.”
“You know how this works, Tony. I need to sleep so we can merge properly. I need you out here keeping watch. Wake me if anyone comes or there’s anything I need to know.”
To the other two he said. “Tony will talk you through the rest. This is your last chance to back out. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Hesitantly, both men looked at each other before nodding.
“Fine. Let’s do this.”
Taking up his discarded jacket, Tad balled it into a makeshift pillow and lay down. Taking a deep breath to get his nerves under control, he forced his eyes closed and willed himself to sleep. He didn’t think he’d be able to manage it with everything going on, but he’d worn himself out trying to break the dreamcatcher. Soon enough he was back in a familiar location, a round room he hadn’t been to in quite some time. He entered Dream without this staging area these days. However, it was good to be back.
As always, he was blind here, but he didn’t need his eyes to know that two doors had formed beside the usual Dream door. One was spartan and strong, so Tad assumed it belonged to Rodney’s mind. The other was ostentatious, but the ornamentation was only surface deep, like it was trying to pretend it was something more than it was. He suspected this door was Thomas’.
As he recognised the doors, they merged into one. Before Tad reached for it, he thought of his old friends and wondered what they thought of this. Miriam’s face came to mind, and she was looking at him in a disappointed manner, like she was angry he was even questioning her. She moved on by choice so she could be with the woman she loved. She was happy and fully expected Tad to have moved on. When he thought of Charles, he thought of that incredible smile and a he
art that was always open to everyone. Maybe the kindest person Tad had ever known, his surrogate father figure’s answer was every bit as obvious as Miriam’s. He wanted only what was best for Tad, and as Tad thought about Tony’s words he knew he was right. Proxying for ghosts was a part of who Tad was, and more than anything he missed his family. He had enjoyed having ghosts around again recently, even if it wasn’t the same.
Nor would he want it to be the same, he realised that now. But that didn’t mean it was a bad thing.
Accepting his decision, he reached out and opened the door.
28
Wednesday, 17th February 2016
11:36
Not only is it pitch dark on the mountainside, but it’s raining so hard Rodney feels like he’s taking machine gun fire. Screaming wind threatens to push him off the mountain, and it’s all he can do to keep himself and his friend stable. He is wet, cold, numb and exhausted, but giving up is not an option. In weather like this they can’t survive long without shelter, especially with his teammate in the condition he’s in.
“We shouldn’t be here,” Dave groans, his words slurred in a way that worries Rodney. “It’s too-”
“I know. It’s my fault,” Rodney answers, experiencing a spike of guilt for pressuring his friend into staying out despite the weather. Nearing the final weeks of SAS training, Rodney hasn’t fought this hard to let a little rain stop him. Even when that rain turns torrential and the wind picks up he refuses to turn back. Even when Dave, who wants this as much as he does, begs him to recognise that this weather isn’t normal, Rodney won’t see reason. He is focused on completing his goals no matter what, and he won’t give up under any circumstances, or at least he thinks that.
When his friend slips in the rain, hitting his head so hard on a rock that Rodney hears the crack even over the screaming wind, he changes his mind. Even in the pitch dark the blood is obvious and Rodney suspects his friend has a cracked skull. Suddenly he realises the truth that they shouldn’t be here. Even for them this is suicide.
It flips a switch in his head and he turns his determination toward a new goal. He needs to get his friend some help. But that’s easier said than done when that friend can barely walk. In better weather he would leave him somewhere safe and run for help, but there is no chance of that. All he can do is support his friend as they navigate the treacherous terrain, hoping they can make it out before Dave succumbs to his injuries.
The weight of Dave’s arm over Rodney’s shoulder is suddenly heavier, nearly pulling him down as the man’s legs give up. It’s all Rodney can do to keep them upright as he struggles to find solid footing on the slick hillside. The rain has made the stone as slippery ice, and the soil so loose it gives way with the slightest pressure.
They slide, Rodney only keeping his balance out of determination. When they skid to a stop, he turns to his friend. It’s not good. He is only upright because Rodney is bearing all his weight, and when Rodney asks what’s wrong, he doesn’t get an intelligible answer.
“Stay with me, Dave,” he shouts, fighting with the wind to be heard. “Just a little further.”
He thinks that’s true. He can’t see anything, but he is confident they are on the right track and soon will reach an old farmhouse they passed earlier. If nothing else, they should be able to find shelter there, but Rodney is hoping there is a car or a phone to call for help.
Again Dave mumbles incoherently and no matter what Rodney tries, he can’t get the man to stand under his own power.
What now? he asks himself, panic creeping in. If his friend dies, it will be his fault. He can’t live with himself if that happens.
So don’t let it happen, a voice in his mind whispers. It’s the same voice that forces him to keep going despite the weather, the same voice that has got him through all his trials so far. If he can’t walk, carry him, the voice screams, and he knows it’s right.
Planting his feet, he leans into his friend, trying to manoeuvre his weight over his shoulder, and then he stands, groaning under the effort. After hours hiking, the wind and rain sapping his strength faster than normal, somehow he finds the strength to stand and not fall over.
“You can do this,” he says aloud and again starts out on his path.
He doesn’t look ahead, visibility is too bad for that. He focuses only on putting one foot in front of the other and not slipping. He can’t afford to lose his footing. To keep him motivated, that voice is talking constantly.
Forget about the rain, it’s nothing but a shower. Focus on your next step. Find your footing, don’t slip. You don’t even feel the rain. That’s it, one more step. Good, now another. And another.
The voice barks commands like a drill sergeant, allowing Ryan to fall into a state where he can surrender his body to the will of someone else. He no longer feels the pain of stinging, cold skin, nor the rain that falls as hard as hail. He ignores the weariness in his legs and the aching of his muscles. He just keeps pushing on, refusing to give up.
However, even that isn’t enough to fight nature forever, and his next footstep is not so secure. He slips.
It’s everything he can do to keep from collapsing. He plants his trailing foot, surrenders to the slide, and drops to one knee, sending a spike of agony up his leg. But he doesn’t crash out, and he doesn’t drop his friend.
Breathing heavily, fighting through the pain and trying to find the strength to stand again, he looks around and gasps.
Where there has only been darkness, suddenly he sees light. Electric yellow, barley more than a sliver from where it seeps between curtains, but light nonetheless. The farmhouse.
It’s not far off because in Rodney’s focused state he travelled further than he thought. However, the house is set into the hillside and he will need to climb to get to it.
What’s wrong with you? Scared of a little incline? I thought you wanted to be one of the elite. If you can’t walk up a bloody hill, then you should give up now.
Gritting his teeth and growling, Rodney surges to his feet.
Focus on the next step. Make it a good one. Solid footing, don’t slip. Just one more step. Keep going.
Despite his determination, it’s getting hard to ignore his pains. His legs feel like jelly, his body is numb, stinging when every raindrop drop is like a razor blade. The weight across his shoulder becomes unbearable, and though he tries to ignore it, there is only so much he can do. His steps get shorter and became more of a shuffle. Soon he is barely moving at all.
He glances up and sees the light again. It’s closer now. He’s nearly there, but it feels so far off. He doesn’t know if he can make it.
Do you need to make it?
New strength floods him at the thought and he looks up in surprise, the idea nearly making him weep. He might be close enough now.
“Help!” he screams at the top of his voice. He is dismayed at how quiet he sounds against the screaming wind, but he tries again. “Help!”
He knows his chances of being heard will be better the closer he gets to the house. So he presses forward, always concentrating on that next step and screaming for help. Hoping that at any moment the light will grow brighter as a door opens.
“Hel—”
He is halfway through the call when his body gives in. He has supported his friend for miles after hiking ten times as far before the accident. He has carried him God knows how far and pushed on despite everything, but his body hits its physical limit.
The muscles in his legs refuse to lift him any higher and his front leg buckles. He knows he is going down and it will be bad. The weight of his friend makes him fall awkwardly, and that will send him back down the mountain. Dave won’t survive that kind of fall with his injuries.
With the last dregs of his strength, he pushes his friend away and up the hill, hoping he will land in a way that he won’t roll. He screams with the effort, but his friend flies away and darkness consumes him as Rodney tumbles down the hill.
He hits the ground hard, the bre
ath rushing from his lungs. Agony explodes through his back as his legs flip up over him, forcing him into a backward roll down. He can’t catch his breath as he rolls again and again, bouncing down the mountainside. He bangs his head, smashes his body and picks up fresh bruises and cuts that are nothing but endless agony. Then there is an enormous crack, the pain goes away, and he stops rolling.
The change is instantaneous. One moment he is in agony, the next he feels normal. Suddenly his skin is no longer stinging, his muscles are no longer tired, and he isn’t even aware of the rain. He feels like his trials are over and everything is fine.
There are heavy thumps as something large rolls down the hill, but he can’t see what it is and doesn’t care. Instead, he turns his attention back up the hill to his friend and suddenly he is running, desperate to find out if Dave is okay.
He is vaguely aware of how this isn’t normal. He shouldn’t have this much energy. However, he is more concerned about his friend than how he is managing this, so he pushes on.
He sprints up the hill and soon discovers his friend lying in the grass, groaning in pain. He breathes a sigh of relief as he picks his friend up, lifting him as easily as if he weighed nothing. Then he is sprinting again, barely able to believe the energy has.
The distance between himself and the house is covered in an instant. Soon he is hopping the fence and rushing through the garden towards the door that is already opening. Light, warm and electric, chases away the darkness and it is the greatest things Rodney has ever seen. Silhouetted against that brightness is a short man whose best years are behind him.
“I thought I heard shouting,” he greets them. “What’s that on your shoulder?”
“My friend has been hurt,” Rodney answers. “I need to get him to hospital. Do you have a car, or a phone so you can call the ambulance?”
“I got my jeep round the side of the house. Let me just grab my keys.” He nods toward his car and disappears inside. Rodney runs to the jeep, impatiently waiting for the old man to catch up. It might only be a minute, but to Rodney it feels like an hour.