Windslinger

by JM Guillen

  They didn’t. For all I could tell, these people were just typical New Yorkers.

  I bit my lip and turned my head to gaze at the other side of the street. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Surely Fallen Leaves wasn’t right out in the open like a traditional business! Even in Syracuse, it had been tucked into a small out-of-the-way nook.

  How was I supposed to find it?

  I continued on my way, only to notice the oddest… twinge in the back of my head. I reached behind me and instinctively tried to rub the spot.

  But I still had my helmet on. I wriggled my fingers beneath it with the thought that maybe a fly or a bee had gotten stuck in my hair.

  Nothing. Nothing at all.

  I took a few more steps before I felt the sensation again. This time I put my hand to the back of my head and stepped over to the side of the sidewalk to take shelter beneath an awning. I peered around to figure out if someone watched me.

  The savage strike came out of absolutely nowhere.

  “Arck!” I felt like I’d been hit with a sock full of pennies—even through the helmet. My mind burst with white fireworks of pain and I couldn’t see anything. I stumbled forward and cursed inarticulately.

  A storm of uncanny sunlight seared its way into my skull.

  Darkness.

  3

  “Exquisite.” The older man’s deep voice purred softly behind me, sweeter than sun tea in Georgia. It sounded like warm syrup in my mind.

  “Mmhm?” I opened my eyes and blinked fuzzily. “The wha’ now?”

  “I said you were exquisite.” His tone oozed possessiveness. “Every inch of you.”

  I blinked again and my eyes strained against the brilliance. Sunlight illuminated each and every leaf on the heavily laden branches that swayed above my head. A thousand shades of green glowed in the warm, gentle breeze.

  Where… Leaves? Staring up, I gawked. Central Park somewhere, maybe near the south entrance? Rehl liked Dark Thunder to practice there…

  “I see you’re still a bit fuddled.” The gentleman’s voice came from the other side of me. “That’s understandable, Ms. Shepherd, but I’m afraid we have some business. I’m going to have to request your attention.”

  I pushed up and rested on my elbows as I lay in the cool grass. I blinked again and shook my head.

  Not the park… The sunlight streamed through a leaded glass ceiling and limned the well-manicured plants in a rainbow sheen that made it hard to focus on any one thing for long. The scent of exotic flowers hung in the stillness. I took a deep breath in through my nose and immediately noticed something odd.

  “What is…?” I wrinkled my nose and sniffed at the cloying air. My lungs seemed to take forever to fill. The air itself felt heavy, dense.

  “Such a clever thing.” I heard the chuckle hidden behind the compliment. “Most young women are far too preoccupied with pageantry and pomp. But you, Ms. Shepherd, understand the value of the subtle.”

  I moved one foot and watched my toes in fascination. Every movement felt sluggish, as if under water.

  “I don’t understand.” My tongue felt thick in my mouth. I glanced around to find the man, and struggled to sit up further and make sense of my surroundings. My mind felt like pounded into cold mud. “I don’t understand at all.”

  “You will.” The voice came from behind me. “Perhaps some light entertainment will sharpen your humors.” The sound of a nail dragged across the back of my skull clawed its way into my mind.

  “Ow!” I squinted and jumped, then pressed my hands over my ears.

  Above the sound of water trickling over a rock bed, came faint, bluesy music, a scratchy recording of some depression-era song, as it drunkenly warbled in the air.

  Sitting alone, sad, all alone,

  Sitting in my cell all alone;

  A-thinking of those good times gone by me,

  Knowing that I once had a home.

  It sounded like something from a cheap haunted house, horrific ambiance.

  It did not set my humors at ease.

  “Perhaps that will help you gather your senses, Ms. Shepherd.” The voice sounded right behind me, and I heard footsteps in the grass.

  My head lolled to the side, and I gazed at the man for the first time.

  He stood tall and thin … no, more than thin. More than slender. The man’s emaciated body was practically gaunt. He strolled languidly along a flower-lined garden path on skeletal, bare feet.

  I know him, some part of my mind insisted. My nerves tightened and my pulse sped.

  “Who are you?” I whispered in a mix of awe and surprise.

  “Introductions are very important.” His lean face nearly leered at me, paper thin skin pulled across his skull. “But I prefer you to have your wits about you, my dear. Our time is limited.”

  “It is?” I gazed up at him as he extended a hand.

  “Indeed. Allow me help you up.”

  I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet, then gracefully led me to a white chair. The world around us had fuzzy edges, as if fog wreathed everything.

  My mouth hurts. I reached one hand up to feel the left side of my jaw, where pain burned brightly.

  I felt a gap in my mouth. I blinked slowly and frowned.

  Where is my tooth? Gone. Am I dreaming? My eyes widened. It was the first thing that had made sense.

  The man sighed pleasantly as he settled into a white, cane-bottom garden chair, twin to my own. He crossed his legs. I noted the dirty bottoms of his bare feet.

  “Tea?” He smiled and gestured at the dainty bone china cups and saucers delicately arranged on the glass-topped garden table between us. A phonograph sat behind him, and its crank slowly rotated as 1920s blues music vacillated its way out of the brass horn.

  I blinked at the emaciated man in his dusty, gray suit.

  “This is a dream, right?” The words felt clumsy on my tongue. That, more than anything, convinced me I must be correct. I often dreamt that everything had slowed, that I could hardly move.

  “It is not.” As the man’s grin grew, it reminded me of the Cheshire Cat. It widened and widened and widened into a macabre caricature of a welcoming smile.

  “I think I must be,” I breathed. Everything still seemed fuzzy, faint at the edges.

  “Let’s not dally, shall we, Ms. Shepherd? Time runs short.”

  “It is?” I searched his deep, dark eyes.

  “Most assuredly.” That smile grew impossibly larger as he reached into a pocket and pulled out a gold watch. With a flick, he opened the case and closed it again, one smooth motion. “We don’t have long.” His tone chided faintly as he picked up a tea cup.

  This is ridiculous. I snorted. “By all means, let’s have tea.” I glanced down to the tea set, but my own knee caught my gaze.

  My own bare knee.

  What? My mouth dropped open.

  I frowned, and my gaze drew up my thigh.

  My naked thigh. My eyes grew wide again, and my pulse drummed with the traces of panic. Now, I could feel the man’s eyes on my body, like dirty silk brushed over my skin. His words took on a sinister, horrific meaning.

  “I said you were exquisite.” His tone oozed possessiveness. “Every inch of you.”

  “Oh no.” A tiny mewl escaped my lips. Where was I? What did he want with me? My heart pounded like a bass drum crescendo. Why did I feel so muddle head—

  Did he drug me?

  For an eternal moment, the thought pulsed through my body like a hot knife. That had to be it. I had been drugged, and this creep had brought me here, had taken off my clothes—

  His eyes scrutinized me, two cool pools of sapphire regard. I tried not to gape at them, but…

  Had they changed?

  Odd. I peered closer, and the unearthly alien-ness of the garden fell about me, like phantasmal curtains. The music, the tea, the weirdo in the old suit, none of this made sense.

  “I think I was right the first time.” My voice seemed impossibly soft, but I nodd
ed as truth solidified in my mind.

  “About what, Ms. Shepherd?” His smile seemed oily, sly.

  “Um, about why I’m naked?” I tried to cover myself with my arms and scrunched up in my chair. It took far longer than I wished. Every movement felt slow, and took real effort.

  I hated this dream.

  The man’s head tilted, and his smile faltered for the briefest instant.

  “Are you not… comfortable?”

  “Are you kidding me?” For the first time, my legendary temper and sharpened tongue showed themselves. “Comfortable being naked with a weird old skeleton?” I gestured around us “Having tea? What kind of shitty dream is this?”

  “I apologize for your discomfort, Ms. Shepherd.” The man’s smile didn’t budge. But neither did his kindly, black eyes, which remained locked on mine.

  I found something almost insectine in the proprietorial way he stared at me. The song continued to warble in the air, an eerie, haunting sound.

  For seven long years I’ve been in prison,

  For seven long more I have to stay;

  Just for knocking a man down in the alley

  Taking his gold watch away.

  “However, this is not a dream.”

  I shouldn’t have worried about being naked, for just then my skin tried to crawl off my body.

  I grinned weakly and tried to laugh. It came out anemic and forced. “Wh—what do you mean? This has got to be a dream! I’m naked!” I gestured to myself, huddled around my knees. “I’m naked in this—this garden I don’t remember coming to…” As I said it, I realized the truth of the statement. I didn’t remember arriving here. In fact, I didn’t remember where I’d been before here.

  “No.” I shook my head. I’d been with Rehl and Baxter. I knew that. We’d practiced wallruns while debating Dark Thunder as our group name.

  I watched Baxter as he ran up the brick wall of the parking garage. He was good, but still pretty new. He would hurt himself if he didn’t watch his technique.

  “I got it! We’re Dark Thunder!” Rehl couldn’t contain his excitement.

  “Really?” Bax asked as he executed a wobbly landing. He seemed uncertain.

  “Oh, come off it, Rehl! You’re kidding, right? It’s about as good as ‘Blockheads,’ and nobody liked that one.” I gave him a smile. ‘Blockheads’ had been my sarcastic suggestion. We regularly threw ourselves headfirst into cinder blocks or brick walls as we bounded through the city blocks.

  “Why would I be kidding? It’s a great name! I can’t believe you’d even say that, Liz. It hurts my feelings!” Rehl touched his hand to his breastbone.

  “The one he has left,” sniggered Baxter, and we giggled together.

  “Dark Thunder is edgy! It sounds mysterious,” Rehl argued.

  No, that wasn’t right either. That had been… when?

  Liz! Somewhere, hidden within the shadows of my mind I thought I heard my name.

  “You are not in any way dreaming, Ms. Shepherd.” The man leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. “We have an arrangement. Do you remember our arrangement?”

  “No…” But as I gazed into his sky-blue eyes, I thought I remembered…

  Something.

  “Why, I saved your mother’s life.” He gave me a tender smile, thin lips wrapped around a skeleton’s head. “Thanks to me, she is guaranteed to draw breath for another twenty-five years.”

  “Mom was sick.” How could I have forgotten? For the past several years she had barely been able to get up and around. She had been thin, so thin.

  “Yes indeed.” The man nodded gravely.

  “And you saved her life.” I nodded along with him. That seemed right somehow.

  “In exchange for such rendered service, you agreed to come and work for me. I needed a series of tasks performed, and you agreed to help me with those.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” The fact that I still sat there, naked, didn’t seem to be such a concern anymore. “But I hadn’t done the first one yet.” I furrowed my brow.

  “Correct,” the man smiled and his green grass eyes beamed happily. “We agreed your contract wouldn’t start until you had done me the first service.”

  Liz! What’s wrong? A familiar voice asked, somewhere in memory.

  “I’ve had the most devilish time getting ahold of you for the past few weeks.” The slender gentleman chuckled. “I had begun to think you didn’t want to keep your promise to me.”

  “Oh, no, sir.” I held up both hands and shook my head. “I’ve just been…” I squished up my nose and thought.

  What had I been doing?

  Liz? Please answer!

  “Please, call me Mister Lorne.” He reached into his ancient suit, withdrew something, and held out his cupped hand. “My card.”

  I reached out to take it, despite my nakedness. He didn’t seem to note my body one way or the other. I frowned as my fingers brushed something hard and tiny in his hand. What was that?

  I withdrew my fingers a moment.

  A pearly tooth with a long root lay in Mister Lorne’s worn palm.

  My tooth. My eyes widened in a horrific realization, and my hand came up to my face. Is that where my tooth went? Why Mister Lorne would possibly have my tooth remained beyond me.

  “Wh—?” My lips curled around the syllables just as Mister Lorne lunged forward and pressed the tooth into my hand. My fingers curled around it automatically, but I opened them immediately and jerked my arm back.

  A business card fluttered to the grass.

  I stared at it for a long moment.

  Nothing changed.

  I checked my palm. Though I knew my hand was empty, I just couldn’t help but check to see if the tooth had stuck to my skin.

  No tooth.

  After another long moment, I picked up the card, and noted how its ivory color matched my tooth. Baroque filigree in a deep sepia graced the corners. It read:

  Mister Lorne

  Fallen Leaves

  Curiosities, relics, books and collectables

  404 Chester Ct. Brooklyn, NY

  “Elizabeth Shepherd!” The voice, niggling behind my mind, burst into a symphony. No one had ever said my name like that in my life. It sounded gorgeous, as if my very name could be a hymn to the heavens.

  It rang true. It sang with Truth.

  “Wait.” I shook my head. “Mister Lorne?” My eyes grew wide.

  Oh. Oh fuck.

  “Why, yes, Ms. Shepherd.” His creepy smile grew wider, impossibly wide. “I’m glad to see you are awake and with us.”

  “Elizabeth Shepherd!” Alicia called my name again, and the sound of it echoed to the depths of my core. At the sound, reality rippled around me, like a deep pond. “Answer me! Are you okay?”

  “I am not okay.” I stared into the Gaunt Man’s indigo eyes. The entire garden shimmered around us, in the same way a dream might as it began to fade.

  “You are not, and that’s a fact.” He smiled at me, a predatory thing. “I’ll see you soon, Ms. Shepherd.”

  The garden faded, melting into the shadows. I found myself alone in the darkness, and I began to run.

  Running was what I was built for.

  4

  “Oh God!” I sat up suddenly from where I had fallen on the sidewalk. I remained beneath the awning, several feet to the side of where pedestrians might need to walk.

  As a result, people had chosen to simply let me lie. I might be a drunk, I might be homeless; none of that happened to be their problem.

  This was New York.

  “Liz!” Baxter’s frantic tone crackled in my ear. “It’s too early for you to be dead!”

  “I’m not dead.” I pulled the motorcycle helmet off and gingerly felt the back of my head. No lump there, no wound as if I had been hit.

  Nothing.

  “What happened?” Rehl’s tone conveyed how worried they had been.

  “He got to me.” I bit my lip. “He did something, and I literally passed out on the stre
et. I woke up in some kind of creepy little garden party.”

  “A garden party?” Alicia sounded as if she thought she might have misheard me. “Like with tea and cookies?”

  “Some kind of hallucination… or a dream. But real. He tried to get me to agree I’d failed to fulfill my end of the bargain.” I pushed myself to my feet shakily, and started to walk down the street. “I couldn’t remember much of anything, I felt all woozy and groggy.” I walked past two gentlemen who spoke earnestly in hushed whispers.

  “He used… magic.” Realization dawned and Baxter’s voice. “He used magic on you in the middle of the city street?”

  “Something like that.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how it’s possible without drawing the attention of—”

  I stopped mid-sentence. Now that I thought about it, really thought about it, I realized I had made a terrible mistake.

  “Liz?” Rehl crackled through my walkie-talkie. “You haven’t disappeared on us again, have you?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “But we are screwed! I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before.”

  “What is it?” Alicia asked.

  “Simon told me, he told me several days ago. After you guys left the bar we all went to.”

  “Spit it out, Liz!” Baxter’s fear made his words sharp.

  “The Gaunt Man’s power can reach beyond the store.” I shook my head, furious with myself. “He can pull his bullshit on us, while he remains safe.”

  The memory pounded in my head, mocking me.

  “It’s some kind of sideways world, a tiny place that monster has complete control over. Not just inside the store, either. The place sends out runners, like poison ivy. When it’s been in a place for a while, Fallen Leaves can even affect reality outside the store, in the neighborhood around it. It’s like a cancer.”

  “What about the Silent Gentlemen? I can’t imagine they like that too much.”

  “If they can stop the Gaunt Man, they haven’t.” He shrugged. “Dunno why.”