by Dan Knight
~~~~~~
“Ouch! Boss!” Shotgun sat up. “What are you kicking me for?”
“Why are you lying down?”
“Oh, I feel like a truck ran over me.”
“We were talking and you disappeared in the dark.”
“No way, boss. I was having a great dream. Goldie and I were dancing. Jazz had the kids. My chances were good.” The dwarf huffed, “And you have to go and wake me up.”
“No, we talked. You think I’m having a mid-life crisis. You said this isn’t my job and we need to contact the authorities before we barge in. I said I’d made up my mind, and you said I’d pumped myself up.”
“Boss you’re dreaming again. Sorry to break it to you, but I was sleeping over here,” Shotgun patted the sand. “While you were sleepwalking, I was right here dreaming of Goldie.”
“I was awake. You were awake. We were talking.” Why are you defiant? “I don’t know why you want to pretend otherwise. When I said I was going up to the castle alone, you disappeared.”
“One of us was sleepwalking, boss, and it wasn’t me. How could I answer you if I was asleep?”
“I woke you up. Remember? I shook you.” He broke off. Shotgun sounded sincere and he never lied. Dwarves were not the type of biots to lie.
“Boss, give me a break. Now you’re accusing me of sleepwalking and sleep-talking. Does that even sound like me? We’re on the trail of a magician, and you’re afraid to admit he’s magical. He’s not afraid to kill, and you’ve never even butchered a Thanksgiving turkey. We’re exhausted. We’re sleeping on a beach. You had a nightmare. It’s just natural.”
“It was real. It happened.”
“It didn’t happen. Think it through, boss. Which one of us sees ghosts? Hello?”
He leaned against a pier, and tried to blend into the shadows. He rubbed his face. “Okay, okay, I’m not sure what happened. Maybe, I’m losing it.”
“Boss, lighten up” Shotgun whistled softly. “You’re not losing it. I believe you. You thought we had a conversation. It’s just that I wasn’t there. You had a nightmare. Don’t go thinking you’re crazy. This happens to everyone searching for a psycho-magician with an army of mesmerized zombie dwarves who plans to kill you on sight.”
The dwarf stepped into the moonlight. His eyes darted from shadow to shadow. “If you aren’t having nightmares on what may be the last night of your life, then you’re crazy.”
In the moonlight, Shotgun resembled a zombie. His tuxedo was torn, and his eyes were dark holes in a pallid face. He might have been going to a Halloween party.
“Shotgun, you don’t have to go with me. I’ve got no choice. I’m the magician. If I don’t go up there and find out if the Black Dwarf’s here, I can’t call myself a man.”
“No wonder you’re having nightmares.” The usually steady dwarf got all worked up. “Newsflash, Jack Clay, I’m a man too. Biots are people too, remember? And if you think you’re a better man than I am, you’re going to have a mid-life crisis right now. This isn’t all about you.”
The dwarf adjusted what remained of his suit and glared at the mage. “The Black Dwarf is a psycho! Goldie is just like the dwarf girls he murdered! The mole children killed could be my children. Faith and Hope might be lying in that morgue up there! If the Black Dwarf gets away, he may kill them anyway. This guy’s got big plans, and I’m planning on taking him down.” Shotgun ran out of steam and settled down. He snorted and straightened his shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Shotgun,” began Jack, “In my nightmare, if that’s what it was, we had a similar conversation. I thanked you for your service and your friendship. Now, I’ll say it again, thank you. I’ve got no idea what’s up there at the castle. If it’s the Black Dwarf, and if he has magic and if he has an army of zombies it may be our undoing. We may not survive the encounter. We may not see the dawn.”
“You’re a good magician, Jack. And you’re a better man than most men. I’d say nothing if we just turned around, climbed up that shaft and tried to find help. But if you go up to the castle I’m going with you. He’s killed girls and kids. He’s messed with the minds of dwarves! Like it or not, I’m going with you.”
“Shotgun, I’ll not force a man on a risky mission. You’re my butler; not my backup on a fool’s errand.” He watched the dwarf.
“Boss, where would Ollie be without Laurel, Jerry without Dean, Abbot without Costello, Batman without Robin, or the Lone Ranger without Tonto? Besides, I’ve got a name to clear too.”
“Your contract’s no good here. This isn’t an assault on Snuffie’s deli aisle.”
“What? You think it’s easy coming up with a meal plan for an elf with discriminating tastes and a penchant for fine coffees?” Shotgun chuckled. “Next to that, challenging an army of brainwashed zombies is child’s play.” The dwarf crossed his arms. “This isn’t about a contract. Your money’s no good for this job anyway, Jack.” He waved towards the pirate town replica. “You can lease me from Biot Staffing, but I’m a man – even if I am dwarf. I’ve got a right to defend my own, and a right to defend my home. And if you want to get in the way, you’re wrong.”
“You’re a good man, Shotgun, and I never meant anything else. Come with me as a friend then. I’m glad you’ve got my back.” He held out his hand, and the dwarf shook it. If we live through this, Shotgun, I’ll buy your contract.
“Lead on Jack Clay.”
Port Royal
Jack kept to the shadows and crept up the beach. He reached the deck and peered over the top.
The wharf ran a hundred yards into the lake and made a right turn to enclose the marina. Massive piers supported thick black planks. It’s black all right. Heavy rope ran from pier to pier. Stars silhouetted a motley row of shops on the end.
Shotgun slipped up behind Jack. “I’m here, boss.”
“No signs of life. The road to the castle is in front of us. I don’t see any guards.”
“See any werewolves?”
“No,” said Jack, “no wolves of any kind.”
“Thank the stars for small favors. Are we following the road then?”
“No, there’s no cover on the road. The moon is so bright we can be seen from the castle, and they probably have security cameras watching the road.”
“Which way will we go?”
“We’re behind the dune. They can’t see the beach. If we follow the dune along the beach, we can remain out of sight. We can go over the dune and go around town in the jungle.”
“I don’t fancy going through the jungle, boss. It’ll take hours, and we might run into more wolves. Why not create an illusion? If we had a fog bank, we could walk up to the front door. They’d never know we were coming.”
“I think a fog bank might get their attention. The weather isn’t right, and if they check their radar they’ll know it’s a trick. My illusions can’t be seen on radar.” He thought for a moment. “Shotgun, you’re a genius.”
“What?”
“Disguises! I’ll cast disguises. If we go as a pair of Sasquatch type things, we won’t attract any attention. If they see us, they’ll think we’re hunting with our wolf pack.”
“Sasquatch?”
“The two-legged leader of the wolf pack, remember? Those creatures are probably the natives around here.” Jack cast his disguise and stepped into the moonlight. “How do I look?”
“Like a dirty ape, boss.”
“Not like a man in a gorilla suit?”
“On second thought, you look exactly like a man in a cheap gorilla suit.”
“Oh,” Jack added a man-like face with deep, wide eyes, and thick fangs. “Now, how do I look?”
“Frightening! If we startle anyone, they’ll shoot us.”
“The Black Dwarf will shoot us anyway.”
“Good point,” said Shotgun. “Better hope no Yeti hunters are out there. I don’t fancy having my hide tanned and hung up in some cowboy’s living room.”
“D
on’t worry about it. Your disguise will wear off if I get shot.”
“Oh, that’s comforting,” muttered Shotgun.
“Besides,” said Jack. “The guards will only see a couple of Sasquatch on their security cameras. They’ll probably leave us alone. After we defeat the Black Dwarf, we can get his security vid footage and use it on our creature feature show. Everyone will talk about it on late-night vid for years.”
“At a time like this, you’ve got to be kidding, boss! Our lives are on the line! And all you can think of is getting a sensational vid on late-night?”
“It’s my job, Shotgun! I’ve entertained Nodlon for twelve years, and I’ve got many more to go. I have to think ahead.”
“You’re impossible, Jack,” Shotgun shook his head. “All right, so we look like Sasquatch, but can we act like Sasquatch?”
“Hadn’t thought of that,” Jack scratched his chin. Sasquatches have overly long arms and lots of hair. They walk with a weave and a bob, and their knuckles drag on the ground.
“Just follow my lead. Walk casually like we belong here.” Jack cast the dwarf’s disguise. “Let’s go, Shotgun.”
Jack swung his arms in long, slow swings, and he weaved and bobbed to imitate Sasquatch. He set off up the beach, and Shotgun followed. When they had gone far enough, they hopped over the rope and onto the wharf.
The sand rose into a dune in front of them. The dune ran along the beach and crossed the boardwalk. Port Royal’s skyline peeked over the top. Good, no one can see us. We’ll go over the sand, and they’ll assume we came up the beach.
Shotgun followed him over the rope and they continued on their way.
Jack sidled up the dune, and Shotgun straggled behind. Their steps left a trail of little avalanches. At the crest, Jack took his bearings. The dune almost reached the corner of Port Royal. Sand spilled over the wharf, the boardwalk, and the cobblestone road. It covered the end of the wharf.
The village was a tragedy frozen in still life. It exuded an idyllic air. Pubs and shops faced the cobblestone road. A cigar pirate beckoned patrons in front of a tavern. An iron parrot sat on his shoulder. An alley slipped into the dark next to the tavern.
A cobblestone road emerged from the sand and ran from the black wharf up to the town. The road ran past the village, and veered away from the boardwalk. In the distance, it passed a merry-go-round, and then crossed an open field. A brontosaur towered over the merry-go-round.
The boardwalk circled the marina. A row of concession stands offered cotton candy and funnel cakes to a score of empty tables with tattered umbrellas. A picnic area with date palms separated the stands from the cobblestone road.
Shotgun scrambled to the crest of the dune and joined the elf.
“You make a passable Sasquatch, Shotgun.” Jack chuckled, “My disguises are unusually effective by the light of the moon.”
“Gee, that’s good to know,” muttered Shotgun. “I’m glad we look good in the moonlight before dawn. What worries me is how will we look in the light of day?”
“You’re a worrywart!”
Shotgun sized up the lay of the land. “The cobblestone road is the only way up there without flying.”
“We can’t follow the cobblestone road. There’s no cover. The wicked warlock’s black dwarves might get suspicious if they see us walking straight up the road. We can’t go through the picnic area either. There’s nothing between the concession stands and the jungle except a few date palms.”
“Won’t our disguises protect us?”
“Why would two Sasquatch wander up to the castle? I can create a wolf pack illusion, but I can’t explain why we’re on the road. And I can’t make us invisible.”
Shotgun fell silent and contemplated their dilemma. “If you don’t want to fly in, that doesn’t leave us any options. We can go through the town, and up the ridge through the jungle. But we still have to cross that field.”
Jack weighed the alternatives.
“We’ll take the alleys through town,” said Jack. “When we get to the other side, we’ll stay behind the brontosaur. We can cross the field there. If we’re not seen, we may make it.`”
“Lead on Macduff,” Shotgun sighed.
Jack slid down the dune. He bobbed and rolled across the cobblestone road.
“What if they’ve got cameras watching the alley?” Shotgun bobbed up and down in his best impersonation of a Sasquatch.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Jack shrugged, “This way.” Seeing no perils, he ambled towards the alley. “Keep up, Shotgun.”
“If the elf wants the dwarf to keep up, the elf needs to slow down.”