Out of This World

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Out of This World Page 19

by Charles de Lint


  Got you, I think as I let my spirit dart through the worlds, aiming for a half mile away from where the light pulse is blinking.

  I’m there in an instant, high above a wooded landscape with a ribbon of road cutting through the treed hills from east to west. To the east I can see what looks like a village or an encampment before I zoom down in among the trees and reclaim my body from the earth.

  I stand there, waiting to see if anything’s going to happen. I half expect to snap back to where I left Tío Goyo, but I seem to have gotten the hang of this.

  I call up the map in my head and look a mile or so all around me. There are hundreds of birds everywhere, big and small. An owl, crows, cardinals, jays … mammals, too. Deer, rabbits, a fox.

  And cousins, in human form. A half-dozen of them are hiding in the woods, just before a bend in the road that leads to the encampment. They’re canid—I’m guessing dogs—and I assume they’re guards. I look at my map more closely, then follow a game trail that runs through the forest in the general direction I want to go, but avoiding the dog people.

  Through a break in the tree boughs, I note a hawk drifting high above the forest’s canopy and nod to myself. Tío Goyo followed me.

  It’s cool here under the canopy, the air crisp. The trees are thick with ferns and underbrush, but the game trail lets me move quietly at a good pace. I’m just congratulating myself on how I’m playing this so smart when I’m suddenly pulled up into the air, entangled in I don’t know what.

  It takes me completely by surprise and I start to thrash until I realize I got caught by the oldest trick in the Looney Tunes cartoon playbook. I stepped into a hidden net, and now I’m dangling six feet or so above the trail. I could rip this thing apart in moments, but I decide I want to see who comes to collect me.

  I don’t have long to wait.

  I hear excited voices and track the approach of three of those guards I noted when I first arrived. It doesn’t take them long to reach me.

  They’re tall, with that muscular leanness you see in a barrio dog. Their skin is darker than mine, their hair thick and a glossy black, hanging down their backs like braided ropes. They kind of remind me of extras from a Spaghetti Western: barefoot, dressed in cotton shirts and pants.

  Their excitement dies down once they see me.

  “It’s just a kid,” one of them says, clearly disappointed.

  “Not just any kid,” another replies, his excitement growing again. “It’s him.”

  “Well, fuck me. You’re right. He doesn’t look like much, does he?”

  “Should we cut him down?” the third asks.

  “No,” the first one says. “Bobo’s gone to get the boss. She’ll know what to do.”

  I just hang there letting them talk.

  She, I think. Call me sexist, but I didn’t take Vincenzo’s boss to be a woman. Maybe it’s because the two biggest role models in my life are my mom and Marina, and they’re so nurturing.

  The one who spoke first is talking. “What’s he doing here? I thought Vincenzo said this is the kid who’s going to strike the first blow of the revolution.”

  When he says the word revolution, a big dose of déjà vu fills me. I almost don’t need my mental GPS to know who’s approaching. But then Elzie comes around a turn in the trail, her stride loose and confident.

  It hits me like a punch in the gut. She’s not a prisoner. She’s the boss.

  Of course Auntie Min’s gotta have her center of operations on the bluff overlooking Tiki Bay. Where Lenny died. Where Vincenzo also killed Tómas, threw Cory off the cliff and broke my back.

  Man, I’m really starting to hate this place.

  But I lead the Feds up the Pacific Coast Highway and pull into the dirt parking lot. I phoned ahead to tell J-Dog what was up, and it looks like he called in all the troops. There must be thirty, forty bikes in the lot.

  Up on the cliff I can see Auntie Min’s crew of crow men standing guard at the edge of the bluff, with more in their bird shapes patrolling from the sky above.

  The Feds have slowed right down, stopping at the entrance instead of following me in. When they step out of the car, Solana is carrying a pump shotgun. His partner’s hands are empty, but I know he’s got at least one revolver at his belt, probably another in an ankle holster.

  I shut off my bike and give J-Dog a nod before I walk back to the Feds’ car.

  “You think this is funny?” Matteson says. “You think you can get away with ambushing Federal agents?”

  “This look like an ambush to you? Nobody’s even got a weapon in their hands—except him.” I look at Solana.

  “Don’t get smart with me, Washington,” Matteson says.

  I put up a hand before he can go on. “You’re the one that’s being stupid. If your partner’s going to keep waving that shotgun around like a big dick, there is going to be trouble. Get your panties out of your ass-crack and take a couple of deep breaths.”

  He takes a step forward and grabs the front of my T-shirt. “Listen, you piece of shit—”

  He breaks off as a lot of guns come up and point in his direction. Solana brings up his shotgun, but come on. What’s he going to do? We’ve got them way outnumbered and outgunned.

  “Told you,” I say as I swat his hand away. “We wanted you dead, it’d already be over.” I point up to the bluff. “That’s where you’re headed if you want to hear what Auntie Min’s got to say.”

  “And your gang just happens to be here?”

  “No. This is how we survive when the shit storm hits—by sticking together. Now tell your partner to put down his gun and come talk to the old lady.”

  Matteson has a sour look on his face. “This is bullshit,” he says, then spits on the dirt beside him.

  I turn to Solana. “Is it? You think los tíos set you up for an ambush? You think I’m using their name just so that we can blow your asses away?”

  Solana glares at me for a long moment before he finally lowers the shotgun.

  “He’s right,” he tells his partner.

  I give a small shake of my head at J-Dog. He makes a motion with his hand and all of the gang’s weapons disappear back into waistbands and the holsters on their bikes. I turn toward the bluff and give J-Dog a nod over my shoulder. He breaks away from the others and joins me, then we start to climb up the hill.

  “I’ve got this,” I say to J-Dog. “Let me do the talking.”

  He doesn’t look happy, but he gives me a nod.

  The Feds have taken a moment to have a little confer with each other, but now they tag along behind us. Like I knew they would.

  Going up the incline, I remember the last time I was here, walking hand in hand with Marina. It was dark; now it’s day, and she’s not here. I feel a pang of loneliness. The only thing that’s the same is the sound of the waves pounding on the rocks below, the salt tang in the air.

  We pass through the perimeter guarded by the crow men and keep going through the tall grass until we reach the top of the bluff. There’s a bunch of cousins up there and I don’t know any of them except for Rico, who was locked up with Josh in the ValentiCorp labs before they escaped. He and Auntie Min are facing off, and I’ve never seen her so pissed. But Rico isn’t backing down. He’s not a big guy—paler than most of the cousins I’ve seen, except for Vincenzo, with short-cropped yellow hair—but he’s tall on attitude.

  “—doesn’t matter,” he’s saying to Auntie Min. “It’s done.”

  “Of course it matters!”

  “You weren’t there. You didn’t see what they did to the kids in the labs and those guys knew it all along. But they still rounded us up and dumped us there to be diced up. They cut off my freaking leg!”

  “I know, but—”

  “They deserved a harder death than I gave them.”

  We’re far enough away that only I can hear what he’s saying, but I shout out a warning anyway: “Hey, Auntie Min! I brought those Feds you wanted to see.”

  Rico immediately gives
me a look to let me know he registers the warning. The tension’s still thick between him and Auntie Min, but at least they’re not talking about whether or not the guys from Black Key deserved to die.

  Do I need to tell you whose side of the argument I’m on? I don’t know Rico all that well, but if he’s the one who’s been hunting down those sons of bitches, I’d like to pin a medal on that skinny little chest of his.

  We climb the rest of the way and make the introductions. Several of these cousins are unfamiliar to me, and I can’t tell what their animal skins are, either. The older cousins can just look at each other and know, but I haven’t got that trick figured out yet. I do see—maybe feel is a better way to put it—the rattlesnake that’s a part of Rico, and Auntie Min’s big-ass moth, but I already knew their animal shapes.

  The others? Not so much. One guy looks a lot like the crow men guarding the perimeter, so I figure he’s one of them. Maybe he’s the boss, if they have that kind of hierarchy. Crow boy is Lalo. Then there’s a pair that look like twins—a Native American cast to their colouring and features. Male and female, but they both have long black hair hanging in braids. They’re dressed in plain white tees, jeans and pointy-toed cowboy boots with a lot of fancy tooling on them. She’s Ana, he’s Jimmy and they’re both glowering. It’s hard to tell what they’re so pissed off about—our arrival, the other cousins or maybe the whole world.

  The last one’s standing with his back to us, looking out over the ocean. When Auntie Min calls his name and he turns, I realize he’s not a cousin. He’s an old Mexican man, long grey hair tied back in a ponytail, his brown features heavily creased with age lines.

  “Tío Benardo,” Solana says, surprise in his voice.

  I’m not surprised to find out he’s one of the hawk uncles. It’s not just that he looks like he’s related to Tío Goyo—he’s got that same “there’s more to me than meets the eye” vibe going for him. But I was under the impression that los tíos and the cousins aren’t exactly BFFs, which makes me wonder what he’s doing here.

  Tío Benardo steps up to Solana and takes his hand with both of his own.

  “It’s good to see you again, little brother,” he says. “You’re looking as well as Goyo told me you were.”

  Then he steps back and nods to Matteson. Matteson gives back a stone face.

  “Any word from Cory?” I ask Auntie Min.

  She shakes her head. “I understand your worry, but if anyone can find her, it will be Cory. You will just need to be patient.”

  “Not exactly my strong suit.”

  “Who’s Cory?” Matteson asks.

  “It’s a whole other business,” I tell him before anyone can answer. “We’re here about Householder, the ass-wipe congressman.”

  Matteson doesn’t like to be shut down. No surprise there.

  “Sure, but—”

  I cut him off, saying, “I just want to go on record to say that saving him seems counterproductive to—well, pretty much everything.”

  Matteson gives me a sharp look.

  “’Course,” I add, “I’ve been outvoted on this, so I’ll have to go along with saving his sorry ass.”

  Auntie Min shakes her head. “You are eloquent as ever, Theo.”

  “Somebody else want to tell us why we’re here?” Matteson asks.

  “As Theo says, to prevent the assassination of Congressman Householder,” Auntie Min says.

  Matteson nods. “Right, except I thought you’d already stopped the guy behind it.”

  “Vincenzo was stopped,” Auntie Min tells him, “but he wasn’t working alone. We’ve learned that his brothers are also involved, and that there is someone else behind them—the same unknown entity who has enslaved a number of the Canid Clan.”

  Matteson puts up his hand. “Wait a minute,” he says. “Enslaved?”

  I ignore him and look at Auntie Min. “How do we know they didn’t choose to join Vincenzo’s gang?” I ask.

  I hear a growl in somebody’s chest and realize it’s coming from either Ana or Jimmy—the pair that look like Native American twins. So I figure they’re dog cousins and now I know why they’re so pissed off. Considering what went down back at the clubhouse earlier today, I must be at the top of their shit list.

  Lalo—the guy I take for one of the crow men—answers me. “The brands they wear make it clear.”

  “Brands?” Matteson and Solana both repeat at the same time.

  “Just gang tats,” I say, to shut them up.

  Auntie Min nods. “Some may have chosen to follow this unknown leader, but several others were coerced. We have no idea how many we face in total. But we do know that Vincenzo and his brothers planned to force Josh to kill the congressman.”

  “Where is Josh?” Matteson asks.

  No one says anything for a long moment. Then Solana clears his throat.

  “I’ve already told him about the otherworld,” he says. Auntie Min shakes her head and sighs. The other cousins seem pissed.

  Tío Benardo nods. “A man must trust his partner.”

  “Except he’s a goddamn Federal agent,” Jimmy the dog man says. “Next thing you know, they’ll be trying to put us on reservations while they strip-mine the otherworld.”

  “Watch your mouth,” Matteson snaps at him before he glances at Solana, then turns back to Auntie Min. “My partner here already explained how all of this can’t go any further than us.” He waits a beat, then adds, “Josh is really in this otherworld?”

  She nods.

  “What the hell’s he doing there?”

  “Looking for his ex-girlfriend,” I say, “because Vincenzo was planning to kill her. Josh is hoping to rescue her before Vincenzo’s friends find out that he’s dead.”

  “The kid’s got balls,” Matteson says. “I’ll give him that.” He returns his attention to Auntie Min. “So why do you need us?”

  Lalo answers for her. “Extra security. We can field enough bodies to keep an eye on the crowd,” he says, “but we need you to survey everything behind the scenes.”

  Solana nods toward the ring of crow men guarding the bluff. “You’re going to stand out like a sore thumb,” he says.

  “We won’t all be going as five-fingered beings,” Lalo replies.

  “Most will watch from the skies and other vantage points. Theo’s men will be in the crowd itself, where they’ll—”

  “You must be kidding me,” Matteson breaks in. “You’d trust crowd control to a bunch of gangbangers? Are you out of your minds?”

  “Hey!” J-Dog and I say at the same time.

  “You want us or not?” J-Dog adds, obviously pissed. “As though we give a shit about your ass-wipe politician.”

  Matteson ignores us both. “And what makes you think we even believe you?” he asks Auntie Min. “For all we know, you’re the problem and you’re just trying to use us to get inside intel.”

  “We don’t want intel,” Lalo tells him. “We just want your eyes watching out in the places we can’t go.”

  “Secret Service will take care of that,” Solana says.

  Lalo nods. “Yes, and if any of them are in on it? We can’t get access to their inner circle to find out. You’re FBI. They won’t stop you.”

  “Why don’t we just advise them about the threat?” Matteson asks. “Then they’ll up their own security, or maybe even cancel the stupid rally.”

  “Sure,” Lalo says. “We’d prefer that it be cancelled. But we’ve been told that Householder isn’t the kind to listen to advice.”

  I’ve heard all of this before, so I tune them out. I can’t stop thinking about Marina. I just want to take Auntie Min aside and have her show me how to do the world-walking trick so that I can go find her. But Auntie Min’s caught up in this circling conversation and anyway, even if I could get her alone, she probably wouldn’t help me.

  I look around the headland. The crow men are doing a good job keeping the perimeter safe. They’ve all got their backs to us, checking for danger instead of
listening to all this bullshit. When I turn back, both Jimmy and Ana are staring daggers at me. If they’re dog cousins, I suppose the same rules apply as they do with actual dogs. If you don’t want to seem aggressive, you look away.

  I lock my gaze on theirs.

  None of us have hackles in our human shapes, but if we did, they’d be bristling.

  Everything around me fades away: the headland and the crow men guards, the Feds, my brother, the cousins. I don’t hear the pound of the waves below or the—let’s be polite and call it “conversation” between Matteson and Lalo and the others. Instead, I’m completely focused on the silent exchange I’m having with these dog twins.

  You want a piece of me? I’m telling them. Bring it on. If you think you’ve got the balls to—

  A slap on the back of my head brings me back to the present.

  “Enough!” Auntie Min says. “And that goes for you, too,” she tells the twins. “There’s too much at stake here for you fools to indulge yourselves with your petty disputes.”

  J-Dog can’t repress a snicker. “Shades of Grandma,” he whispers to me.

  “Petty?” Ana says. “You call butchering our brothers petty?” Auntie Min shakes her head. “No. But they were hunting Theo. I don’t excuse how he dealt with the problem, but I know he did what he felt he had to do.”

  “Just like we’re going to, right now,” Jimmy says, baring a mouthful of canine teeth and taking a step toward me.

  Before he can get any closer, this huge moth starts to manifest above Auntie Min and her face darkens and shakes with anger.

  Except for the dog twins and me, all the other cousins take a cautious step back, out of the line of fire. Solana looks like he’s about to crap his pants. Matteson’s jaw drops and his hand inches toward the holster on his belt. Tío Benardo watches with interest, but doesn’t move. J-Dog—bless his twisted little heart—just stands there, arms folded across his chest like he sees this kind of thing every frigging day.

  “No,” Auntie Min says, her voice hard. “First, we will finish this business and then you can see to your own follies. Or you can leave. But you will not disrupt us a moment longer. Is that understood?”

 

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