The Silver Token

by Alan Marble

  “Somewhere safe. Try not to worry about it for now.”

  “Try not to worry?” He glanced out the window again, panic starting to creep up in his chest. Here he was, in a strange truck with a strange woman, who was making her way to the quickest route out of town. “Turn around … look, the cops already think I’m up to no good, I can’t be leaving town like this … they said they’re watching me.”

  Rebekah showed no indication of changing her mind, accelerating the truck quickly up to highway cruising speed. “Maybe they are.”

  Jonah’s eyes widened a little as he realized that she wasn’t taking him seriously. “Stop the truck.”

  “What?”

  “I said stop the truck. Pull over, stop the truck, right now.”

  Finally she turned to look at him, that playful little grin back on her face. “What, right here, in the middle of the highway?”

  Jonah bunched his fists and gritted his teeth. “I said stop the freakin' truck!” As soon as he had made the demand, Rebekah mashed her foot on the brake, and the truck responded by screeching angrily to a halt. Jonah was caught off guard, whipping forward with nearly enough force to smash his face right against the dash, stopped just in time by the tension in his seat belt snagging him about the chest. A vehicle that had been following not far behind them swung wildly about, the driver pounding on the horn, whining out a fading, angry song as it passed. When they finally came to a stop, he turned to look at the redhead with a wild, accusatory stare. “Jesus Christ, what the hell are you trying to do?”

  “Stopping the truck,” she responded, flatly.

  “In the middle of the freakin' highway?”

  All at once she turned to stare him down, those green eyes flashing with no small hint of anger. He found himself recoiling as he thought she was going to hit him, but instead she simply reached around him, pushing the passenger door open and gesturing out into the night. “Decision time, Jonah. You want to go crawling back to the cops, pray that they can keep you safe from that murderous madman? Well, the door’s open, I’m not going to keep you here against your will. Get the hell out and out of my sight.”

  A part of his mind urged him to take that offer without hesitation, the urge to slip out of the truck and run as far away from this crazy woman as he could palpable enough that his legs twitched in anticipation. In spite of himself, he remained seated long enough to wait until she spoke up again. “Stay with me, and I’ll keep you safe. Yeah, the cops might be on the lookout for you but I can keep you safe from them, too. I promise. But if you choose to come with me, you’re going to sit back, shut the hell up, and do what I say. My job is to keep your ass safe, not suffer your whining and complaining. Got it?”

  Another vehicle barreled past them on the freeway, again honking the horn, the sound about making him jump out of his skin. Against his better judgment, Jonah remained seated, reaching over and pulling the door to the truck shut, sitting back meekly in his seat. “Got it.”

  “Good,” Rebekah said, her demeanor instantly brightening again as she threw the truck back into gear and quickly got it back up to speed. “You should sit back and try to get some sleep. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

  Jonah didn’t respond, at least not at first, but inwardly wondered where this woman was actually planning on taking him. After watching mileposts pass by for several minutes, he finally allowed himself to speak up again, to ask the question. “Can I ask where we’re going?”

  “North. Someone who needs to see you. A friend,” she answered, cryptically.

  With a heavy sigh, Jonah leaned back in the seat, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He found himself wishing that he were simply in a nightmare, that he would wake up in the morning to find the whole thing some figment of his imagination, that old Sammy would be alive and well in his shop, that he would find his bike in one piece. It had been just another day when he woke up that morning, and now his life had been turned completely upside down. “You gonna give me a straight answer to any questions?”

  “What’s that mean?”

  Opening his eyes again, he turned to look at the driver, Rebekah, with a slightly disdainful grimace. “I mean, give me a real answer. One that doesn’t include ‘someone’ or ‘somewhere’.”

  She hadn’t turned to look at him, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Depends on the question,” she shrugged.

  “Ugh. That’s exactly what I mean,” Jonah complained, leaning back again with another sigh. “You tell me I’m supposed to trust you, that I’m supposed to just sit back quietly while you cart me off to God knows where, and you can’t even answer a few simple questions. This is unreal.”

  “Look. Jonah. I’m not trying to be difficult, I promise.” Her voice was surprisingly gentle when she spoke again, furrowing her brows before continuing. “It’s just that … well, it’s not easy to answer some of your questions. You aren’t really ready for the answers, and I’m not really equipped to give them to you. Not here, not now. There are other people, better equipped to tell you what’s going on, but in the meantime you’re just going to have to take my word for it when I tell you that what’s going on is … important.”

  “Oh, hell,” he spat, covering his face with his palm and just shaking his head.

  Rebekah turned to look at him with a frown. “What?”

  “I guess if you were some kind of psycho who wanted me dead you could have left me with Frankenstein back there,” he mused a little sardonically, combing his fingers back through his hair. Briefly he paused, turning to look out the window and at the darkened landscape slipping on past, gazing off into the blackness in the distance. “But really? This nonsense about not being ready for the answers? That it’s not the right place, the right time? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?”

  “Look, I’m just trying to watch out for your best interests …”

  “So you’ve said,” Jonah interrupted. “By keeping me in the dark. Right. What are you really on about? What are you really after?”

  There was another brief pause, nothing but the sound of the truck as it made its way north along the highway. When the driver did speak again, she did so a little hesitantly, with more than a hint of frustration. “Fine. All right. Let’s play it your way. What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. Who are you, where are we going, what the hell is going on.” When she turned to look at him with a withering glance, Jonah threw his hands up in the air and sighed. “Ok, well, what about Frankenstein? Just who was that guy? I mean, how the hell did he pick up a five hundred pound motorcycle and throw it at us?”

  “He’s a bull drake,” she responded flatly, fixing her gaze on the roadway once again. “They’re bred for brute strength and obedience, but they aren’t exactly the most intelligent creatures you’ll come across. I suppose it suits the role just fine, though. Not much room in that little head of theirs other than to carry out their assigned task.”

  Jonah blinked a little at the answer. “Uh, wait. Did you just say ‘bred’?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  He snorted a little at the response. “Like, as in, breeding animals?”

  “Yes,” she repeated, a little flatly.

  “Okay,” Jonah replied, a little dubiously, throwing her another sidelong glance. “So, like … genetic manipulation, or something like that?”

  Rebekah shrugged but did not divert her attention from the road. “I suppose if that’s what you wanna call it, but it’s not like there’s any test tubes or laboratories involved. No different than the way animals have been bred since the Stone Age.”

  “But, he’s a human. That’s different.”

  “No, he isn’t. I told you, he’s a bull drake.”

  Jonah blinked at the response, and wanted to sigh loudly, but merely shook his head. “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, sorry,” she muttered by way of apology. “You really wouldn’t know what that means. It’s a kind of dragon. Less intellige
nt, more, shall we say, feral, but a breed of dragon all the same.”

  The unexpected patter of raindrops on the windshield announced the arrival of an unexpected downpour, steady but light, the kind of unpredictable weather that Florida was well known for. Rebekah flicked the wipers on, their steady and quiet thump, thump helping to fill the void of sound that now dominated as Jonah stared forward, into the night, not sure how to respond to that. It was only after a long moment that he spoke up again. “A dragon.”

  “Yes, a dragon.”

  He wanted to accuse her of being crazy, of being nuts, or at least of just playing some kind of stupid game, but he reminded himself of just how crazy the evening had been so far, of just how nuts it was that he was in a truck driven by some strange woman who had appeared in his apartment just as he was faced down by a murderer. Somehow it didn’t seem right to call her out for being crazy. Instead, he answered with a rather flippant “Well, he sure didn’t look like a dragon to me.”

  “Well, he was in human form,” she responded flatly, shrugging again.

  “Ah. Of course. Human form,” he muttered, nodding, his voice still laden with sarcasm. “And you know this, because …”

  She answered with another shrug, and once again in that flat voice. “Because I’m also a dragon.”

  He waited for her to turn and grin at him, or to laugh, or some other indication that she was enjoying a goofy joke at his expense. Instead there was nothing but the rhythmic sound of the wipers competing with the light rain, the rumble of the engine as it carried them along further northward. When it became apparent that she was not going to qualify her statement, Jonah shook his head with a derisive little snort. “Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into … you really are crazy …”

  “You asked for the truth.”

  Again he laughed. “The truth, yes. But dragons? You’re crazy.”

  If she was offended she didn’t show it. In fact, she continued to show no real emotion, keeping her gaze on the road, her hands relaxed while they clutched the wheel. “And how does that make me crazy?”

  “Come on. Dragons? Really? That’s ridiculous.”

  “I’m sure you have a better, less ridiculous explanation for how that man not only picked up your motorcycle but threw it a hundred feet, then. A better explanation for everything that’s happened tonight, since this morning.”

  “Of course,” he huffed, a bit indignantly.

  Finally she turned to look at him, her lively green eyes looking him over with a little hint of doubt. “Well, out with it.”

  Jonah sputtered where he sat. He tried to tell himself that it was not really a question that should have been dignified with an answer, that he wasn’t the one here who should be answering questions and explaining himself, yet at the same time he realized that he did not, in fact, have a satisfactory answer to the question. In truth he had no idea how any man could have the strength required for that kind of feat, but there had to be some kind of logical explanation, one that did not involve dragons. He, unfortunately, could not think of it.

  Defeated for the moment, he folded his arms over his chest and shook his head again. “Christ. This is just … stupid. How the hell do I get caught up in this stuff? Wait, wait, don’t tell me. That damned coin I bought is actually some magical coin, which sought me out on purpose, right? And, wait, let me guess, it’s because I’m actually a dragon and never knew it, right?”

  He thought he could see a little smirk forming on her features. “Well, actually …”

  “Stop,” he interrupted, shaking his head again and sighing. “Just … stop.”

  “Have it your way,” Rebekah replied with another little shrug, the nascent smirk on her face fading away as she focused once again on the drive.

  The silence was still uncomfortable, though, and while Jonah felt a bit agitated at the weird turn the conversation had taken, he realized that he wasn’t quite finished with his questions. “So. Where is it that you are taking me?”

  “Like I said, to see a friend. Someone who is a little better at answering these questions than I am,” she said, her demeanor beginning to relax once again.

  “Let me guess, he’s a dragon, too.”

  The little smirk that had reappeared on her face bloomed into a full, if quirky, smile. “Of course.”

  In a way it was almost infuriating, for Jonah could no longer tell if she was indeed, crazy, or if she really was just out to make him look like some kind of fool. Leaning back in the seat once more, he closed his eyes and let out another low sigh. “Well. I suppose it’s a good thing this road goes right through Orlando.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You can drop me off at the Magic Kingdom. I could do with a dose of reality after tonight.”

  “Oh, very funny,” she retorted, even if she did, in fact, let loose a quiet little chuckle. Once the chuckle died down, however, another bout of uncomfortable silence settled in. Jonah didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if he even should respond. He wasn’t sure which seemed like the crazier option - go along for the ride with some strange woman who claimed to be a dragon, or take his chances with some maniac who apparently had it out for him.

  Again he found himself silently wishing that it would all turn out to be some kind of strange, twisted nightmare.

  “Well.” Rebekah’s voice broke through the silence again, after a moment, a little hesitantly at first. “Like I said, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us, and you’ve had a long day. You should sit back and try to get some sleep. Everything will start to make a little more sense once we get where we are going.”

  Jonah didn’t respond. He still was not sure how to respond. He wanted to know where she was taking him, wanted to know more about her, what her motives were. He did, in fact, have dozens of questions that he wanted to ask but did not know how to put into words. Wishing for nothing more than for the night to fade away into normalcy, he kept his eyes closed, and somehow drifted away into a deep, restful sleep.

  FOUR

  “They’ve found us. I don’t know how, but they’ve found us.”

  The woman’s voice, strained with fear, brought Jonah to attention, but what he saw in front of him was unexpected and confusing. He was sitting on a couch in a living room of sorts but the decor was terribly outdated. He had been watching television on an old console TV, encased in its own wooden frame and resting on a set of legs. The image on the screen itself was all in black and white and was nothing that he vaguely recognized.

  At his feet was carpeting done up in a garish green color, and his surroundings were not much better. The lamps at either side of the couch, a fireplace in pastel colors, wallpaper that looked like it was better suited to an airport or a casino than a home; all of it screamed ‘kitsch’.

  He was viewing it all through a haze, too, unable to fully focus on anything that he saw. Standing nearby was a woman, black hair done up in a bouffant style, was dressed to match the surroundings. “Were you listening to me?”

  Jonah tried to squint away the blur that was marring his vision but it simply would not retreat. To his surprise he found himself standing and he began to speak without even willing the words, as if he had been reduced to a mere spectator in his own body. “What? Are you certain?”

  “I saw them at the grocery store. They had to have seen me, they had to have followed me back home,” she said, her voice strained with panic.

  Stepping over to a window and pulling back the curtains, Jonah took a look outside. Though his vision was still blurred, he could make out a scene that looked to have been stolen right out of some television show about nostalgic Americana. Big cars with gaudy fenders and whitewall tires lining the streets, well-manicured lawns, trees just beginning to shed their leaves - if the colors had been a little more faded it may as well have been a postcard he was looking at.

  A pair of white, windowless vans coming around the corner caught his attention, and he frowned at the sight. Letting the blinds fall shut again, he turne
d to the woman who was standing nearby. “Get the children.”

  Jonah knew there would be precious little time. Watching the woman disappear down a hallway, he stepped over to the front door and latched the deadbolt shut. Turning down the hallway as well, glancing into one of the rooms in time to see the woman leaning over a small bed, he continued on toward the master bedroom. Without any hesitation he walked right into the closet, located a pump action shotgun that was hidden away on a top shelf, pulling a handful of shells from a box and hefting them in his hand.

  Satisfied, he turned back toward the hallway, where the woman now stood with two small children. One, perhaps five years old, stood at her side and rubbed his eyes, while the other, hardly more than an infant, was fussing quietly in the woman’s arms. Stepping past them, barely able to notice their bewildered looks through the haze of his vision, he moved with nervous intent. “Come on.”

  Once he was sure the little entourage was in tow, he made his way toward a sort of study that was located near the entrance to the hallway. Making his way straight for a bookshelf at the side of the room he pushed it to the side to reveal a darkened stairway leading down and out of sight. “We’ve talked this over before,” he said, trying to remain calm, turning to look back at the woman with the children. “You know the plan.”

  He could see enough detail in her face to know that she was staring at him, wide-eyed. “You’re not coming with us?”

  “Stay down in the shelter for three days, not a second shorter, understand? Close the door behind you. It should be pretty soundproof down there but try your best to be quiet.” Pausing to look down the stairway and catch sight of the heavy concrete door at the bottom, he turned once more to look at her. “When three days are up get on the first bus out of town. Don’t pack anything, leave it all behind. Go at night if you can.”