Dream Stalkers

by Tim Waggoner

  “And what, pray tell, might that technique be?” Mordacity asked.

  Jinx’s mouth curved into a cruel smile, and his teeth looked sharper than they had a moment ago.

  “It’s called ‘Stay out of Jinx’s Way’,” he said.

  * * * * *

  “How much longer is he going to be?” Russell said.

  Russell, Mordacity, Bloodshedder, and I sat on the edge of a fountain outside the Maul’s main entrance. Mordacity stood, arms crossed, staring impatiently at the entrance’s titanium doors. Bloodshedder lay on the ground, head on her front legs, eyes closed. She looked like she was sleeping, but I knew she’d be awake and rending flesh in an instant if there was trouble.

  The fountain outside the Maul has a statue in the middle – a staggered column of large marble skulls perched one on top of the other, with equally large coins clamped in their teeth. Crimson water – at least, I hoped it was water – trickled from the skulls’ eyes and noses, and ran down the column into a circular basin. A phrase was carved around the base’s circumference: Superesse Emptor. Let the Buyer Survive.

  “He’ll be here soon,” I said.

  Mordacity harrumphed. I’d forgotten how cranky the Maul made him. Unlike most Incubi, he wasn’t a fan of mayhem for its own sake. Plus, he hated the fountain. He thought the skulls were an affront to “ossified individuals everywhere,” as he’d once told me.

  “How long have you and Jinx been…” Russell trailed off, as if searching for the right words.

  “Occupying each other’s bodily space?” I offered. “Less than a day. I’m hoping we can get the situation resolved soon.”

  “I hope so, too.” He smiled. “The next time we kiss, I want to know for certain that it’s really you behind the lips.”

  I smiled sweetly. “What makes you think there’s going to be a next time?”

  Before Russell could reply, the doors burst open and an Incubus came flying out. The creature – which looked like an eight foot long trilobite with a scorpion’s tail – flew through the air for a dozen yards and landed on the concrete with a loud cracking sound. The Incubus skidded for several feet before it managed to flip over, and then it skittered down the street, moving as if it were jet-propelled. I got a good enough look at it to see that its shell was cracked and its tail was bent at a funny angle.

  Jinx came striding forth from the Maul after that, his clothes torn and soaked with blood. In one hand he carried a gore-smeared Cuthbert Junior. In the other he carried a blood-stippled shopping bag. His right cheek was swollen, probably from where the triloscorp had stung him. His gait was a bit wobbly, most likely because his body hadn’t neutralized the poison yet.

  “Sorry it took me so long,” he said. “I forgot where the chocolate shop was.”

  He came over to the fountain and handed me the bag. I took it gingerly, doing my best to avoid getting any blood on my hands. I peered inside and then looked at Jinx.

  “No dark chocolate?”

  “They were out.”

  “Oh, well. Milk chocolate’s good, too. Thanks.”

  I pulled out one of the candies, unwrapped it, and popped it in my mouth. I promptly started making ‘mmm’ noises that, if Russell’s expression was any indication, sounded like I was enjoying myself a little too much. Too bad. Chocolate is an ultimate good and is meant to be enjoyed to the fullest.

  After Jinx had cleared a path to the exit for us, I’d sent him back inside to get me a little something from Chocolatears. The Incubus who runs the shop cries her candy, hence the name.

  As I chewed, I said, “It’s a bit saltier than usual.”

  “Sucre told me she broke up with her boyfriend last week,” Jinx said.

  I nodded. “That explains it.”

  Russell made a face as I tossed a second chocolate into my mouth. “I can’t believe you’re eating that stuff. It came out of a living being’s eyes, you know.”

  “I needed something to get the taste of gingerbread out of my mouth,” I said. “Besides, don’t knock it til you’ve tried it. And it beats Jinx’s favorite sweet shop.”

  Jinx looked at Russell and smiled, revealing chocolate-smeared teeth.

  “It’s called Eat a Candy Bar Out of My Ass,” he said.

  As Russell and I stood up to go, I had a sudden feeling that something wasn’t right. I turned back to look at the fountain, but it seemed the same as it always had been: basin with the Latin phrase, column of oversized skulls, red liquid running from their eyes, noses, and wide-open – not to mention quite empty – mouths.

  I stared at those skulls for a moment, a thought nagging at the back of my consciousness, as if I were trying to grab hold of a memory that remained stubbornly out of reach.

  I wasn’t the only one staring at the skulls with a puzzled expression. Russell was, too.

  “Something wrong?” I asked him.

  He hesitated before answering.

  “No, I guess not. Let’s go.”

  * * * * *

  Even though entering Nod through the Maul isn’t the safest way to get there, we’d survived more or less unscathed thanks to Jinx’s near-demonic skills at psychotic shopping. You never know where an Earthside Door will lead to in Nod, although Incubi can usually tell where a Nodside Door will let out on Earth. It was a lucky break that we’d arrived in Newtown instead of the Cesspit, or someplace even worse, like the Edgelands.

  Ever since his breakdown, Nathaniel had been held in Deadlock, in the wing for the criminally insane, or what Incubi sometimes refer to as “overachievers.” After the Angler had forced Nathaniel to swallow the shuteye pill, he’d become a mindless savage, lashing out at anyone who came near him. His condition had improved somewhat over the years, but not enough for him to be released. I hoped he’d be able to talk rationally with us – especially with Mordacity present – but there was no guarantee of that.

  Since Deadlock is located in the Murk, there’s only one relatively safe way to get there: the Loco-Motive. And we were only a few blocks away from the Arcade station. As we headed for the station, I wished we had time to stop at the Rookery so Jinx could get a new set of clothes. But I didn’t want to risk missing the train. And, to be honest, I didn’t want to run into Sanderson. Despite the fact that Jinx and I were in his good graces at the moment, I feared he might not approve of our talking with Nathaniel without his authorization. Better to ask forgiveness than permission. For me it’s more than a saying – it’s a way of life.

  One good thing about Jinx’s current revolting state was that it caused pedestrians to give us a wider berth than they usually did when they saw him coming. Considering that we didn’t know if there were any other assassins gunning for us, the more distance everyone kept from us, the better.

  While we were walking, I decided to call Dr Menendez and check on how Melody was doing. I raised my wisper close to my mouth and said, “Call Menendez.”

  Russell looked at me, obviously curious as to who I was calling and why, but he didn’t ask. It took several moments for the wisper to make the connection, and then I heard his voice.

  “This is Dr Menendez.”

  Russell’s eyes narrowed when he heard Menendez speak, but otherwise he kept his expression neutral. Smart boy. Jealousy is so unattractive.

  “Hi, this is Audra Hawthorne.” I gave my full name for Russell’s benefit. Menendez and I weren’t friends, and there was no reason to make Russell think otherwise. Although I admit it would’ve been fun to torture him, just a little. “I’m calling to see how Melody’s doing.”

  “Hi, Audra. Good to hear from you. Ms Gail’s condition hasn’t changed significantly since we last spoke, but that’s only to be expected. It’s going to take some time for her to recover. I’ll be sure to contact you the moment Ms Gail shows any sign of improvement.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

  I still felt guilty as hell over what had happened to Melody, but at least she was receiving the best care available in two dimensions. I
was about to say goodbye when Menendez said, “How are you and Jinx doing? Have you experienced any more incidents of Blending?”

  “A couple,” I said. “But they weren’t too bad.”

  Russell gave me a look.

  “Okay,” I admitted, “they were a little bad. Especially the last one.” I quickly described to him what had happened to Jinx and me in Wet Dreams.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Menendez said when I’d finished. “You’re still in the early stages of treatment. You and Jinx should take another dose of the medicine I gave you, and remember to stay near each other.”

  “Okay, we will,” I said

  “Good. Keep me posted on your progress, and, as I said, I’ll be sure to contact you if there’s any change in Ms Gail’s condition.” He paused, and then in a warmer, more personal tone, said, “Take care, Audra.”

  “You too,” I said, and then ended the call.

  We all continued walking in silence for a few minutes afterward. I took out the bottle of medicine Menendez had given me, shook out four pills, gave two to Jinx – who inhaled each through a separate nostril – and dry swallowed mine. After I tucked the bottle back into my jacket pocket, Russell said, “So… about this doctor…”

  “Don’t start,” I said.

  Russell scowled, but he didn’t say anything more. Bloodshedder, who was padding along at her master’s side, let out a snuffle-snort that was the demonic hound equivalent of a laugh.

  Before long, we reached the train station and went inside. Outside, the station was a modern-looking glass-and-steel building, although, like so many structures in Newtown, its angles didn’t seem quite right, and it hurt your head to look at it for too long. But inside, it resembled something from the late 1800s on Earth. Cracked marble floor, dark brown wooden benches, white brick walls, and a single glass-windowed ticket counter. The benches were filled with Incubi waiting for the Loco-Motive to arrive, and there were more lined up to get tickets.

  Mordacity, Russell, and Bloodshedder scanned the crowd, keeping watch for anyone who looked suspicious. More suspicious than normal, that is. Jinx was busy playing with a dead lizard he’d pulled from one of his pockets. He was using it as a ventriloquist’s dummy, holding it with one hand while propping it up on the palm of the other and waggling the head back and forth. The lizard introduced itself as Senor Largarto in a high-pitched voice, and it kept up a running commentary on how ugly the Incubi around us were. Mordacity turned his impassive skull face toward Jinx, and I thought he might draw his sword and take off Jinx’s head. But he managed to restrain himself and we made it to the ticket window without any of us trying to kill the others.

  I didn’t feel like waiting in line, so I took out my badge and flashed it at the Incubi ahead of us as I walked directly up to the window. A few people grumbled, but when they saw Jinx – blood still wet on his shredded clothes and making a dead lizard talk – they decided to keep their mouths shut. Jinx, taking the silence as encouragement, began doing Abbott and Costello’s famous “Who’s on first?” routine with Senor Largarto, causing more than a few people to abandon their travel plans and head quickly for the exit.

  The words Booking and Ticketing Office were carved into the cement above the window, and the Incubus behind it wore a dark blue uniform jacket with gold trim at the cuffs, light blue shirt, and a dark blue tie. She wore a billed cap, also trimmed in gold, with a badge on the front displaying the letters LM. I assumed the Incubus was female because of the swell of breasts under her uniform. The gender was difficult to determine from her face since she didn’t have one. In its place was a gaping hollowed-out wound that stretched from her forehead down to her chin. The edges of the wound were ragged and bloody, and the inside looked like the wet red pulp of a partially emptied watermelon.

  I hate watermelon.

  I showed the ticket officer my badge, not that I was sure she could see it. “Official Shadow Watch business. We need five tickets for the next departure.”

  “Six!” Jinx said in his Senor Largarto voice, and gave the dead lizard a shake.

  I sighed. “Six tickets. Charge them to the Watch’s account.”

  Since we didn’t have Sanderson’s permission to speak with Nathaniel, the “official” part was a fib, of course. I hoped Mordacity wouldn’t make an issue of it. It was exactly the sort of thing he would’ve disapproved of in the old days. I sensed he wasn’t comfortable with my lying, but he didn’t object.

  The ticketing officer may have lacked a face, but she still had ears – and hands. She reached out to run her fingers across my badge, and when, in doing so, her skin briefly came in contact with mine, I couldn’t stop myself from shuddering. If she noticed, she gave no indication, not that my reaction would’ve bothered her necessarily. As you might imagine, a lot of Incubi love scaring humans. It is, after all, quite literally what they are born to do.

  Satisfied that my credentials were legitimate, the ticketing officer – who wore a nametag on her jacket that said Adorabelle – turned toward a computer keyboard. She rapidly typed a sequence of letters and numbers, and her printer spat out our tickets.

  As she handed them to me, I said, “Thanks.”

  She made a wet gurgling noise that might’ve meant “You’re welcome” or something else altogether.

  I stepped away from the window to allow her to serve other customers, and I walked over to the train schedule mounted on the wall. It was an old-fashioned blackboard in a black frame, with information written on it in white chalk. Russell and Mordacity accompanied me, while Jinx continued to regale ticket-buyers with his dead lizard ventriloquist routine, and Bloodshedder sat next to him, watching and occasionally thumping her spiked tail loudly on the floor. There’s no accounting for taste, I suppose.

  Train Timetable was written at the top of the chalkboard, and below it was a list of stops and times. The Nodian clock begins at thirteen and goes to twenty-five. The Loco-Motive is the only train, and it runs in only one direction: edgewise. The train tracks are a Mobius strip, even though the train travels eternally forward, it makes more or less regular stops at various points in Nod’s separate zones throughout the day. According to the timetable, the Loco-Motive was next due to stop at the main station at 22:17. I tapped my whisper and saw that the current Nodian time was 21:19.

  I turned to Mordacity and Russell.

  “We’ve got a little less than an hour to kill,” I said. “I could use some dinner. Except for coffee and chocolate, I haven’t eaten all day.”

  “I don’t eat in my Night Aspect,” Mordacity said.

  “Right,” I said. “The whole animated skeleton thing. I almost forgot. How about you, Russell?”

  “I could eat.”

  From Mordacity’s stiff posture – stiffer than usual, that is – I could tell he was irritated.

  “I don’t understand how you two can be thinking of food right now. You should be staying focused on our mission.”

  “Easy to say when you don’t have blood sugar to get low,” I said.

  “In our line of work, you’ve got to eat when you can,” Russell said.

  Jinx was still putting on his show with Senor Largarto. But, at that precise moment, Bloodshedder sprang forward, snatched the dead lizard out of his hands, and swallowed it down in a single gulp.

  “Case in point,” Russell said.

  “NOOOO!!!!” Jinx wailed

  Bloodshedder licked her lips.

  Jinx reached into his inner pocket and removed a lily. He knelt down and gently placed it on the floor. He stood and then bowed his head.

  “Domo arigato, Senor Largarto.”

  Bloodshedder burped.

  * * * * *

  Mordacity remained in the station to wait for the Loco-Motive. He promised to call me if it arrived early. I don’t think the Loco-Motive has arrived early in the couple centuries it’s been in existence, but Mordacity can be kind of OCD in his Night Aspect, so I allowed him his illusion. Besides, there’s always a f
irst time, right?

  He asked Russell and me to get our food to go and bring it back to the station, not so much because of the train, but because he was uncomfortable having us out of his sight when Gingerdread Man and Demonique might make another attempt to kill us. I told him he had a good point and none of us should be left alone. Russell asked Bloodshedder to stay behind with Mordacity. She pouted because Senor Largarto was little more than a snack for a creature her size, but she brightened when Russell told her he’d bring something back for her. Mordacity didn’t seem thrilled at being left with a babysitter, but he didn’t protest.

  Jinx came with me and Russell. He was unusually subdued, and every now and then he had to choke back a sob. I decided to keep a lookout for any other dead vermin that could replace Jinx’s departed ventriloquist’s dummy. Not that it would be easy since Jinx is very particular when it comes to dead animals.

  There are a lot of restaurants and bars near the Main Station, and we had a fair amount of choice. Most serve food that humans would find hard to digest, if it wasn’t outright poisonous to us places such as Chef Borgia-Dee’s, Strychnine and Sons, Fiberglass Po-Boys, Industrial Effluvia and Frozen Yogurt, and most ominous of all, a place simply called Buffet.

  I looked at Russell and he shrugged. “Your call,” he said.

  I sighed. “Buffet it is. May the First Dreamer have mercy on our digestive systems.”

  Russell and I started heading in the restaurant’s direction, but I quickly realized that Jinx wasn’t following us. I turned back around and saw him standing there, looking uncomfortable.

  “I’m, uh, not really hungry. And I’m still in mourning and everything. Poor Senor Largarto. Taken before he even had a chance to begin properly rotting. I was thinking of stopping in there for a second.”

  He hooked a thumb toward a place with a glaring neon sign which said Misery Loves Company.

  “I thought I’d get a cup of coffee.” And, before I could protest, he added, “I’ll order decaf, I swear!”

  “It’s been a while since my last dose of caffeine,” I said. “Maybe all three of us could go there. They’re bound to have something to eat.” I looked at Russell. “Sound good?”