Invisible Dawn

by Weston Kincade

  The dark van left the driveway as silent as it had come, disappearing around the tree line just as the flames breached the outer walls. The gas filled house ignited, filling the quiet night with a tremendous explosion. Assured of their success, Koiyo set the binoculars in the glove compartment, rolled up the window, and put the car into gear.

  The two dream watchers caught one last thing as he pulled onto the dirt road, “Well, Jedd, you’re now officially dead. Congratulations.” Koiyo’s attempt at humor was lost before it had begun and the words fell on dead ears.

  As the car disappeared, the world around the two men again spun out of control. Daniel looked over at the man next to him. Jedd’s expression was vacant and confused as he found himself looking at yet another dizzying slot machine of life. The spinning wheel settled once more on another snapshot from Jedd’s past. However, this was one he had not experience himself, having been unable to attend.

  Before them, stood a large group of people on a grassy field littered with tombstones. They were huddled around a grave, its coffin wreathed in flowers. A priest stood next to a picture of Jedd, grinning with his wife and newborn son.

  “We took the photograph a couple days after returning from the hospital,” Jedd muttered.

  The picture of the young family cradling their newborn spoke volumes about the world Jedd had left behind. Daniel watched his friend’s mumbling form relive the death of his life.

  “His name’s Matthew,” Jedd continued for the benefit of his sanity.

  The picture grew closer and the priest’s words came to them as they were deposited onto the damp grass. “We do not trust in ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead: ‘Who delivered us from so great a death, and in whom we trust that he will yet deliver our son, Jedd Altran, into his loving arms.’”

  At the mention of his name, the priest placed the last nail in the coffin. After twelve years, the reminder of the choice he made tore him apart. Tears streamed from his eyes, but he was unable to look away. He stared at the distraught family he left behind. His wife stood shrouded in a black veil, one hand dabbing at her eyes with a folded handkerchief. The other patted the back of two-year-old Matthew, who clung to the hem of her black dress, his face seeking salvation in her leg. His muffled sobs echoed over the priest’s sermon, crying out, “Where’s my Daddy? I want my Daddy!”

  Daniel watched with sorrow and concern as Jedd lost the last semblance of control he had maintained.

  “I’m so sorry,” he screamed, but the boy could not hear him. He persisted, “Matthew, Faith, I’m sooooo sorry, but I had to. I love you so much, but I had to! I had too!”

  His hysterical cries reverberated into the black hole that surrounded them, as though from the depths of a deep, dark well. Daniel waited in nervous anticipation for the darkness to reply; thinking Jedd’s heart wrenching screams might have alerted heaven or hell itself. Jedd fell to the nonexistent floor in despair.

  Daniel tried to cross to him, but before he could take a step, the world around them swirled counterclockwise in a multitude of artist’s colors. The abstract kaleidoscope merged to form another picturesque night sky, one illuminated by a different lake house fire. Outside, numerous agents stood gazing at the large conflagration.

  A small girl in an ash-covered nightgown stood in the midst of it all. She was entranced by the crumbling home, a grubby teddy bear clutched in her hands. As the image panned around the child, Daniel found the jade eyes he knew so well. They reflected the fire in their glossy surface, but also the family she would never know again.

  His trusted friend whimpered from behind in a huddled mass of tears. “No, no, no, not again. Not again!” he shouted. “I’ve seen enough. The misery’s … too … much. It’s too much.” Grief and sorrow challenged Jedd’s sanity and forced him to his feet. He shouted into the flame-lit night, but the darkness ate his words and hungered for more.

  The only answer was the murmured pleas of a young girl echoing through the darkness. Her mouth failed to move while she stared at the inferno consuming her childhood, but her voice resonated around them. “Help me, please.”

  It was as though even this brutal reality could not contain the entreaty of such an innocent. A young girl that time forgot, who may still have a place in the future. Daniel saw the necessity of what had to be done. With this realization they were thrust from the darkness and into consciousness.

  The scarred soldier woke with a start, but for once he did not flinch as he looked into the mirror across the room. The charred remains of a child stared back. Eyes that had lurked around every corner, now greeted him. Not with kindness, nor hatred, but with knowledge. Daniel did not expect his past to disappear, but he felt he could live with the crimes he committed, now that he knew what to do; what his first step toward atonement would be.

  Lurching out of bed, he threw on his cargo pants and flew out the door. He entered the adjoining room with a zest for life that he had forgotten. He found Jedd awake and shuddering as he fought to dislodge the tears from his face. He tore at his cheeks, but the mere action would never be enough to erase the memories. Instead, it left his face red and gleaming. Daniel pulled a chair up to the moonlit bedside and seated himself next to his friend. The sight of Jedd subdued Daniel’s enthusiasm, and replaced it with concern.

  “You okay, bud?”

  Jedd chuckled at the thought. “I haven’t been okay for a long time. Does it look like I’m okay now?”

  The sarcastic response was par for the course as far as Daniel was concerned. “I know it’s hard to deal with your demons. But I think we were shown that last memory for a reason.”

  “What the hell do you mean?” Jedd almost shouted. “I’ve lived with that memory for years. It’s one that haunts me every night, like yours.”

  “Think about it. It showed us the worst things from our pasts, and then Madelin told us how to find our way to salvation. We can save ourselves if we help Madelin,” he said, unable to curb his enthusiasm. “This way, our past doesn’t define us.”

  Jedd composed himself and bottled his emotions before turning cold eyes on his friend. “Are you religious, Daniel?”

  “No, but I hope I haven’t damned myself already, in case there is a heaven.”

  “Neither am I,” he replied and continued with mocking sarcasm. “What you’re saying will bring about our ‘salvation’, is what got me into this mess in the first place.”

  Daniel’s tone hardened as he tipped toward the edge of anger. “Dammit, Jedd, then finish what you started.”

  “I’m going to. Do you think I’d leave my goddaughter to the likes of those PASTOR bastards?” Jedd shouted.

  Both men stared at one another, their anger flaring as they sat locked in a battle of wills. Daniel was the first to relax, releasing the tension that had built up in his muscles. With a chuckle, he astounded Jedd by saying, “Look, I know it’s hard, but we’ve made these decisions and we’ve got to live with the consequences. Like you said, we have to admit our mistakes, confront our demons, and try to be different people. I’m sure your son’s an outstanding boy. You just saw his first reaction to losing you. He’s had twelve years to grow up since then. At this point, we have to consider how to make things right.”

  The logic of Daniel’s words calmed Jedd, and the flames behind his eyes dwindled. “I know. It’s just hard to deal with it all at once.”

  “Yeah, talk about turning the tables,” Daniel replied with a smile.

  Jedd chuckled, masking his unease. “Hell, I thought I was coming to help you.”

  “You did, my man, you did.” Daniel stood up and replaced the chair before walking out of the room saying, “A few minutes ago, I woke up more rested than I’ve felt in decades. I think I’ll go catch a few more Z’s before morning.”

  Jedd knew Daniel was right, but could not get the visions out of his head. As the gears within his mind churned, he wondered about the genteel lord whose roof they now slept under. With a small effort, he willed himself t
o sleep, enough to project himself once more.

  I’ll have to be careful, he thought. Who knows what these people can and can’t see? I already know they’re capable of a hell of a lot more than they let on.

  Jedd slid through another worm hole before landing at his bedside. He stuck his head through the door and peered down the long hallway. No one was out, so he stepped through and began his search.

  The large rectangular building was symmetrical, each hallway mirrored by the opposite end of the building. The kitchen and servant’s quarters were set apart in back. There were very few people up at this hour, but a few auras wandered the halls of the manor. He kept them at a distance, avoiding rooms they occupied. However, he searched all empty rooms and even those being used by normal people. He found little of interest until he reached Lord Alain’s room.

  It was an elegant, yet peculiar domicile; large and spacious with one lone window at the far end and a king-size bed sitting opposite. Four enormous masts lifted the corners three feet off the ground.

  With that craftsmanship, the thing could weather a squall out at sea.

  It was draped in rich silk linens that gleamed in the scant moonlight filtering through the window. A multitude of elegant, crimson pillows topped it. They were fringed in gold, adding to the air of royalty.

  Wow, for the cost of those, he could feed a small family for a year, Jedd thought. He was never one for extravagance when the money could be better used elsewhere.

  The sides of the bed posed an intriguing question though. They were hinged between the cushions, and low to the floor was an elegant handle covered in worn velvet. It was as though it had seen repeated use.

  Jedd speculated on the possibilities of such a bed, but was unable to find a reasonable answer. It looks like Alain can pull the sides up over him, closing him in like an enormous coffin…

  He considered the possibility of what people in his world called Vampires, but dismissed it. The whole idea’s just a myth, a figment of creative imaginations, not truth. If they really existed, people would know. The extravagance of the bed is just the product of a warped mind and too much money. The man’s just got too many fetishes to occupy his spare time.

  He nodded with finality and attempted to ignore the feeling of something crawling up his spine. He pushed the nagging feeling aside and settled his rapid heartbeat.

  Relieved, Jedd decided to retire for the night and vanished. He returned to his room and body with every intention of discussing the oddity with the others in the morning. He was sure they would come to the same conclusion, but something about the man still had Jedd on edge.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 21: Lacking Modesty

  Saturday, June 24th

  For the first time I woke up feeling great. And to my surprise there was a present waiting at the door. I was thrilled…

  ~Excerpt from the Journal of Madelin Boatweit~

  The following morning, Daniel awoke to dim sunlight filtering through the shade tree outside his window. The dreams had not pestered him for the remainder of the night. He awoke refreshed and lurched out of bed as though it were the first vacation of his life. Daniel stretched as he walked to the window. His muscles groaned with the effort and his excavated wounds screamed, but the subtle warmth of the orange rays filtering through the branches helped to sooth them. He stood with arms outstretched and allowed the breeze to cleanse his skin. Days here were milder than on his world, especially under the shade trees that covered the town. Within the town limits, it was as though the settlement went through constant variations of dawn, dusk, and twilight as the sun roved above, then receded each night.

  It’ll be a nice, cool day, he thought, yawning wide, as though he were a bear roused from a long winter’s sleep. There was no need to find a bottle to drown in this morning, and the dreamless sleep left his body feeling rejuvenated. His hands did not shake and the morning felt like a new beginning. The chirp of birds added to the morning’s calm.

  Daniel cast around for his pants, but failed to find them. He remembered tossing his cargo pants at the base of the bed, but now they were nowhere to be seen. As though on cue, a rap at the door interrupted his late start. He walked over and peered out. Whoever knocked had come and gone, but at his feet was a stack of folded clothes. He brought them in and searched for the rest of his possessions. Nothing remained, except his 9 millimeter, which still sat on the nightstand. He had not turned out his pant pockets and neither had the thief. Daniel’s anger flared at the thought of someone intruding in his quarters while he slept. It did not matter who owned the building.

  With no option left but the new pile of clothes stacked on the bed, Daniel resolved to dress and find the man responsible for the theft. He lifted a folded garment from atop the stack and was stunned to find a shirt reminiscent of early French and English fashion.

  “What the hell is this?” he asked, scanning the frilled collar and pleated fabric. The ends of each sleeve were covered in decorative lace, and although they were appropriate for this place, Daniel swore he would never wear such a thing. Throwing it aside, he grasped the next garment, a free flowing off-white over shirt. The fabric was thick, but smooth and comfortable. It’ll do, he thought, pulling it over his bandages.

  Daniel sifted through the pile before turning to the mirror. He found himself looking like he just stepped out of a wild-west film. He admired the clothes in the mirror with grudging acceptance. The jacket fit well and was made of thick, gray wool. It had a high collar that arched over his shoulders, guarding his neck from the wind. The boots had also been tailored to fit, although they were less comfortable than his own. The pants were tight, as was the tradition. He had seen many affluent patrons wearing their like in the tavern, but they were obviously not made for comfort or utility. Daniel fell back onto the bed and struggled to dislodge them from his legs.

  Minutes later, he again stood in front of the mirror, but this time without the trousers. He needed his cargo pants and boots, but admired the other clothes. The knee-length jacket shadowed most things from his knees up. He grabbed the pistol and stalked into the hallway to introduce the person responsible to his close, metallic friend. He passed through the hall with a determined stride and ignored the astonished stares of the other manor occupants.

  Where is Farlin, he wondered. He would know what happened.

  It was not long before he found the head servant chastising the lead chef of the kitchen. The other cooks were attempting to ignore the elephant in the room and busied themselves preparing other dishes. However, Farlin was not quiet, nor was the chef willing to take the abuse of a servant.

  “And what the hell do you think you’re doing barging into my kitchen?” asked the chef, emphasizing who was in charge.

  “Trelaine, don’t presume that you have any power over me when I am here at the bequest of the lord.”

  “And what errand has Lord Alain sent you on that concerns me?” Trelaine patronized.

  But before Farlin could answer, Daniel’s stiff form appeared behind him snarling, “Farlin, hey, Farlin!”

  Lord Alain’s head servant turned at the uncivilized greeting. Seeing one of his lord’s guests, he shooed the boisterous cook away and turned to greet the man. Farlin feigned a smile and ignored the veteran’s bare legs, “Mr. Robertson, it is a pleasure to see you up and around this morning. I see you found the clothes I left. Were the pants not to your liking?”

  The rhetorical question was innocent, yet the mocking undertone chafed on Daniel’s nerves. “Listen up, Farlin, and listen good. I want the pants you stole from my room.” Daniel did not stop until he was an inch away from the short man. He stared down at the servant’s distended, rat-like face.

  “But, Mr. Robertson, I didn’t steal your clothes. I wished to wash them for you. If you don’t mind my saying so, they reeked. I couldn’t in good faith allow you to wear them in their current condition.”

  The servant did not bat an eye under Daniels intimidating gaze. Farlin sidest
epped the brute and walked into the next room as though he owned the place. He returned seconds later with the large man’s pants, cleaned and folded with his boots sitting on top.

  “These pants were obviously tailored for someone much larger than you, weren’t they?” he asked.

  “What do you mean? They weren’t tailored at all.”

  “That explains it then, sir,” replied Farlin. “When I first saw you, I noticed that they hung like your tailor had forgotten what scissors were for. I had them pressed too, but they didn’t come out as well as I would have liked. The excess material gave them problems.”

  The shock at what they had done broke his stare; however, his concerns were not alleviated. “Look, Jeeves…” Daniel began. The servant’s inability to understand his opinion on fashion was quite irritating.

  Not to be put down, the man corrected him, “Farlin, sir.”

  Daniel began again with the tolerance you might offer a child. “Look, Farlin,” he paused for emphasis, “thanks for the cleaning, but if you haven’t noticed, I don’t give a rat’s ass about fashion. I just want my pants and my stuff.”

  “Oh, that’s already been taken care of, Mr. Robertson,” Farlin replied, tapping one of the boots as he handed the bundle to the half-clothed man.

  “Wait a second, how’d you find out my name?” asked Daniel.

  “Your … I-den-ti-fi-ca-tion … card,” Farlin stuttered, again patting the cleaned boot.

  Daniel glanced inside and noticed a small package wrapped in leather. It was tied with a cord. He discarded the jacket without hesitation, throwing it to Farlin to hold, and slipped into the cargo pants. He then pulled the jacket back on with a contented sigh. The kitchen staff stood staring at the ostentatious sight until the head chef ushered them back to work. Daniel pulled up one of the cook’s stools and unwrapped the package.

  “Everything’s there, sir, but may I ask a question?” Farlin pressed on without waiting for an answer. “I couldn’t help but notice that you and your friends aren’t from around here. If you don’t mind my asking, where did you come from and why are you here?”