Open World

by Casey Moss

  The men only stared at her stoically, not replying.

  “Sounds interesting.” She snapped off a bite of the fruit, then around the mass in her mouth said, “So any word on my cousin yet?”

  “No,” Tavis and Alden replied in unison.

  “Well, okay then.” She took another bite of the banana. As she chewed, she appeared to study each of them. “Hmm, I must say you’ve not lived up to your warrior-like status, Alden. Figured a dude like you would have had her back to her family in no time.”

  “Warrior-like?” Alden sat on the floral print couch.

  “Yeah, Hope once told me and Faith that you reminded her of a brave fighter, a crusader of causes. Buzz must have hidden her pretty good, eh?” She waved the last quarter of the banana in the air. “No matter. I’m sure she’ll turn up soon. I’ll leave you two to your kibitzing and meditating. I have books and a bed calling my name.” She winked and went upstairs.

  Alden leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes. After several long moments of staring at the floor, he looked up at Tavis with a troubled expression marring his features. “Do you think Cassandra’s enlightened already?”

  “She is very intelligent. She had picked up on Buzz’s persona pretty quick. I’d say yes because even I’ve had my suspicions, but I’m not sure. Even if she has, she’ll know to keep it to herself till the time is right.”

  “True. I hope she has gone through the transformation. The last thing we would need is Buzz coming after her. We already have our hands full. Her protector isn’t even here to help the lass with our adversary.”

  ****

  Staying awake while they were out gathering supplies had been such a chore. Faith realized she absolutely, positively needed a good night’s rest. The lack of sleep caused by the overly realistic dreams had caught up to her, and the nightmare of the Hawk-man and his sexual domination had to end before she completely lost her mind and had no more energy left.

  In her room she barely had changed and said a quick silent prayer for a dreamless slumber before she crashed on her bed and promptly fell asleep.

  ****

  Outside the window the grand rust, ochre and amber colored mountain loomed in the distance overlooking the similarly colored, dusty basin, full of ramshackle buildings. The hues of everything were dulled by the gray sky. Slowly, she turned and glanced over her shoulder. Dark paneled walls and a four-poster bed filled her vision.

  Faith’s heart sank. She was in the dream again. Soon Hawk-man would come in and have her pleasure him.

  Her attention returned to the scene on the other side of the picture window. Down below, the beings of the other clan’s world she kept finding herself in went about their routines. Vendors appeared to peddle their wares while customers haggled, both sides waving their arms in the air and pointing. Others sauntered by, ignoring the activity around them. A dusty gust of wind sent the flags atop the vendors’ carts flapping wildly and, in one seemingly choreographed moment, everyone stopped and put a piece of cloth to their faces. When the cloud settled and the flags stilled, movement resumed once more amongst the crowd.

  Taking a closer look, she picked out key components relating to what once was a grand casino on the strip—busted white columns and statues, a small dry pond with three broken fountain mechanisms, and marble gazebos. She wished she could remember what Tavis had told her about the different areas in Vegas and the clans associated with them. Maybe then she’d have an idea of where she was and with who.

  Studying the bustling gathering, she observed their clothing. They dressed as the Hawk-man dressed—minimally. She took note of her own outfit then, a strapless aquamarine bandeau top and a flowing, silk-like ankle length sarong of the same color with crossing lines in varied shapes, sizes and pastel colors. Summer clothing, the type one would wear to the shore on a beautiful day.

  What I wouldn’t give to be at the beach. Swimming in warm waters. Frolicking in the waves with Big T. Sunning ourselves on a big rock.

  The encroaching twilight once more drew her focus to the landscape. Above the mountain faint stars appeared in the dusky sky. Gazing upon the few pinpricks of lights, a warm sensation spread through Faith. A voice within her stated everything would be all right.

  A deep pang of longing for it to be true settled in her core. She put her hand to her mouth and stuck her forefinger’s knuckles between her teeth so as not to cry out. How could she know everything would be okay? How come she felt such intense yearning for the water? She wasn’t really a part of this world. She shouldn’t feel anything about it!

  Behind her, the huge wooden door creaked open and, in the reflection of the window, she watched Hawk-man enter. A toga-like outfit adorned his tall, lean body. The white cloth glared bright against the dark room. A wide gold belt cinched him at the waist. Leather boots fit snug along his calves.

  Casually he came up behind Faith, put an arm around her and positioned her to face him. With his free hand, he captured her chin in a vise-like grip and tilted her head up. Dark beady eyes gazed down at her. A chill streaked down her spine, sending zings of ice along her peripheral nerves.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed her mind to recall what Cassandra had taught her during lunch that day. She was supposed to figure out if she was in the dream or not, which she knew she was. Then she was to take control of the dream and put herself elsewhere by envisioning a new environment. Closing her eyes, she forced a picture of Big T to her mind, and the day they were caught in the kitchen by her sister. Like Dorothy, but without the red slippers, she clicked her bare heels together three times as she imagined kissing him.

  “I know what you’re attempting, my dear,” Hawk-man’s soft voice simmered. He clutched her chin tighter. “You won’t ever be able to control your situation here. There’s no use in trying. You are mine, mine to do with what I will. You will obey me and carry out my commands. You will be my consort, but not my equal.”

  Shocked at his arrogance and compelled by a tug on her mind, she opened her eyes. His voice had the same effect as being under the influence of a drug, lulling her body, but not her feelings into an altered state. She fought the forces sweeping through her mind. Her heart thumped uncomfortably. His head, tilted to one side, descended toward her. He slid his hand from her chin to the back of her head, and pressed his lips to hers, assaulting her mouth more than kissing it.

  Scared by his barbaric attitude and forceful advances, she attempted to pull from him, but he held fast, crushing her body to his. He pried her lips open with his tongue and aggressively explored her mouth. Letting go of the back of her head, his hand found its way to the front of her body. Fingers slipped up and under the lower band of her top. A warm palm and pads of fingers groped her breast. The thumb passed over her nipple several times, bringing it to a hard nub, which he subsequently pinched, rolled and rubbed between his thumb and forefinger. Both his kiss and breast kneading were harsh, unpleasant.

  If she had her way, she would have bitten off his tongue and broken his hand, but her voice advised her against it. The voice also told her to never, ever taste his blood.

  He seemed so brutal this time it irked her to no end and, just as she thought she wouldn’t be able to take his crude advances anymore, he stopped, placed his hand on her shoulders and stepped back.

  “Have you stayed pure? Have you kept your body sacred for me?”

  She looked out the window at the night sky, wondered where her home was. She couldn’t help speculating if she was still in the C.O.V.E.N. game. Was all this supposed to happen during game play?

  Turning back to him with a sigh, she nodded her head.

  “Have you taken a lover elsewhere? Have you been anyone else?”

  Again, the same questions he asked each time they were together. The pattern varied, though. She figured he did that to confuse her, make her tell on herself, and shook her head. Nope, good girl Faith was still a virgin.

  “Good. Very good. You know why? Because you’re
mine. I want you pure.”

  Hawk-man’s head tilted again, as if he were about to swoop in for another kiss, but a knock at the door stopped his advance. “Enter,” he hollered.

  The large door swung open and in the opening stood a tall man dressed and masked similar to the Hawk-man. “My liege, Mabuz,” he said, clicking his heels together, then strode in to the room.

  Her inner voice gasped in surprise. A subconscious frisson of terror shot through her upon hearing Hawk-man’s name.

  “Yes. What is it?” Mabuz paced, apparently irritated at the interruption.

  “Your father, King Marcab, wishes your audience in the war room.”

  “Fine. Who are you?”

  “Dolon, Your Grace.” He replied with a bow. “I’m new to the Majesty’s service.”

  The two men appeared to study each other for a few intense moments.

  Mabuz cocked his head. “Good, we can always use another strong hand in the cause.” He turned back to her and lightly ran a finger down the side of her cheek. “We’ll continue this later, my dear.”

  She jerked her head away from his touch and faced the window, resting her hands on the sill.

  “Dolon,” Mabuz barked behind her back.

  “Yes?”

  “Stay here and keep watch until I get back. Make sure my prize doesn’t go anywhere.”

  Once the door clicked shut, she spun around to face the newcomer. “I hope you don’t think you’re going to take advantage of me like that guy’s been doing.” She pointed at the door, then put her hands on her hips.

  Dolon shook his head. The light golden brown hair not covered by the mask cascaded down his head to his neck in long layered, shagged cuts and swayed with the movement. Eyes behind the semi-transparent glassy beads, over a sun-bronzed body, stared at her.

  “Zya,” he whispered.

  She tilted her head, recognizing the name. Yes, her voice cried. “Yes, I suppose so. Do I know you?”

  He approached her, and the air around them sizzled with an underlying current of passion. Her heart fluttered in her chest. He removed the mask and held it in the crook of his arm. She stared at the ruggedly handsome man as he fluffed the matted locks of hair on his head. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place from where she knew him. His dark green eyes looked into hers and, though it was only for a fleeting moment, she felt as if she had stared into those eyes for ages.

  “You did once,” he whispered.

  “Excuse me?” She stiffened, not realizing she had spoken her thoughts until he replied.

  “You said you felt as if you had stared into my eyes for ages. I said yes. You had, once upon a time.” He placed his free hand on her shoulder. “No harm has come to you here, has it?”

  “Nah. Mabuz, as you call him, can be a bit, umm, overzealous at times, but I’m all right. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I lo—”

  “Dolon,” Mabuz’s bellow from the hall cut off his reply.

  “Beautiful Zya. I must go for now.” He pecked the side of her cheek. “Tell no one I spoke to you. I will come again. All will be revealed.”

  She bobbed her head, having an immediate trust in him. The twinkle in his eye roused a kernel of a memory in her, but the thought of the place or time where she had known him was so fleeting she couldn’t sustain the recollection.

  Once more his name was yelled in the hall but closer. He put the mask on and hurried from the room.

  A spurt of ardent desire for the man she just met dashed through her. She wished he could have stayed in her presence. Dolon emanated an energy that drew her like a bear to honey. She craved more of him, more contact than that brief touch of his hand upon her shoulder.

  PART SIX

  Hope’s Amnesia

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hope appeared in the middle of what looked to be a homeless shelter. It wasn’t what she’d pictured back at…

  She shook her head and scratched it. Where’d she come from? Where was it that she wanted to go? Her mind acted like a blank chalkboard being looked at through a fisheye lens. Writing appeared hazy and indecipherable on the outer edges of the sphere, but the blackness in the middle was clean.

  Her body tensed, reacted as if she should run. With wide eyes, she surveyed the area. People on chairs and benches were scattered through the large room. Broken windows and shattered glass doors at the entrance looked out upon a gray day. The other way revealed an opening to a courtyard type parking lot with long carports on the perimeter.

  A young, Goth-looking cashier with black hair, white makeup and piercings in her lips, eyebrows and ears, gaped at her as if she had grown a pair of horns and sprouted a third eye in the middle of her forehead.

  Hope wavered, trying to reconcile what was happening. She knew her name, knew that she had a family and wanted to be a dancer? But anything else? “Where am I? How’d…how’d I get here?” Her voice faltered over the questions. She stared at the teen.

  “You in the ol’ bus term.” The goth snapped the gum in her mouth. “How ya got ‘ere is beyon’ me. Ya jist kinda appeared outta nothing.”

  Another teen in his goth phase came up to them. “Yeah. Poof. There you be. Totes mcgotes cray-cray.”

  “But I don’t want to be here.” Tears of frustration pooled in Hope’s eyes. She swiped at them. She was tired. She was hungry. She was dirty and hot. In the time she’d been in the bus station, dry, oven-like air had sapped all the moisture from her skin. She believed she was a walking piece of water-depleted, brittle clay, which would crumble into dust and blow away with the slightest touch.

  “Then flash on outta ‘ere like ya did to git ‘ere.” The goth’s voice was monotone with no vestige of sympathy.

  Hope closed her eyes, did her best to picture a place to go to, but none came to mind. Try as she might to ‘flash on out,’ she continued to stand amongst a bunch of uncaring strangers.

  The goth shook her head and ran her black-nailed fingers through her hair. “Guess ya usin’ the door like the rest o’ us.” She chomped on her gum a few times, then tilted her head toward the exit.

  Hope clenched her teeth to squelch the sob rising in her throat. “Go out into the heat? Isn’t it a wasteland out there?” Great, one piece of memory and it’s about how Las Vegas had been destroyed.

  The girl shrugged, cracked her gum and walked away.

  A disturbed laugh erupted from Hope. She spun around, clutching her hands together until they were white-knuckled. The destitute people gave her no notice. Still cackling, she lumbered toward the exit.

  Manic hysteria is better than ear shattering wails. The lie she attempted to tell herself didn’t help her mood. Hope burst through the doors into the desert city. In her haste and confusion, her focus wasn’t where it needed to be. She ran into a person standing outside.

  “Whoa, honey, watch your step,” a husky, but sultry voice cooed.

  Hands gently grasped her arms and steadied her. “I’m sorry ma’am.” The woman who held her came into view. Kind eyes over a motherly smile stared at her. Misery finally won out. Warm tears spilled down her dusty cheeks.

  “Oh, dear. Honey, it’s okay. No harm, no foul,” the woman crooned.

  “I’m so…so tired…so tired,” she gasped in between body racking sobs.

  “It’ll be okay, sweetie.”

  “No. No, it won’t.” Hope caught her breath and wiped the damp from her cheeks. “I was trying to get to…to…and the bitch in there…” She whipped her arm back and pointed her finger. “She tells me to... Damn. I don’t remember a thing. What’s happening to me? I don’t remember where I was. I know who I am. I know that this isn’t where I wanted to end up.” Hope scraped her hands through her hair. “But I don’t remember where I wanted to go. I have no money. I don’t know what to do.” Right as she finished her tirade, her stomach growled.

  “Seems you’re not only tired, but hungry as well. The name’s Ruby.” She held out her hand.

  “I’m Hope.” She acce
pted Ruby’s offered hand.

  “Well, Hope, welcome to Las Vegas. I was just about to go buy some lunch. How ‘bout if you come join me?”

  Hope gave the tall, busty blonde a once-over and nodded her head.

  A blast of cold air walloped her the moment she opened the door to the casino and, compared to the heat outdoors, the coolness was divine. She followed Ruby past rows and rows of blinking and clanging, musical and talkative slot machines and past a long buffet line to a sports bar. Weird that everything else outside the casino seemed to be in shambles, but in the casino life appeared vibrant and thriving.

  “I have a friend who tends here so we might be able to get some freebies. You like beer?”

  “Sure.” From the looks of the large silver tanks behind the glass walls, the restaurant brewed their own. “I can’t believe the opulence of this place.” Hope followed Ruby and the waitress to the table.

  “Honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet. If you think this is something, wait until you see some of the big casinos down on the strip. Clans have been doing some great work fixin’ ‘em up.” She waved over at a bartender as she sat. “That’s my friend Bob. He’ll make us some grub. So tell me, what brings you to the gambling dustbowl? Especially vis-a-vis limbo junction. Let me guess, you’re running from a guy. Am I right?”

  “Limbo junction?”

  “Yeah, it’s where the forgotten go. They walk on in there and wait.”

  “Wait for what?” No wonder the people there didn’t seem too happy.

  “Wait to be remembered, I gather. I’ve never had to go in there so I don’t rightly know.”

  Wait to be remembered. Was that why she ended up in the middle of that room? No. That didn’t feel right. Maybe she’d never know why she ended up there, but she needed to remember something and soon. She felt like she’d go crazy if she didn’t.

  Ruby asked if I’m running from a guy. Hope pondered the question. Recollections of a man dressed in a tropical print short-sleeved shirt and tan cargo shorts came to mind, followed by a different man dressed all in black.