Desperate By Dusk

by Alexander Salkin

  At the Silver Light, everyone inside was a trucker on home leave, an east coast cowboy, a buxom waitress, or someone who didn't care to look at you twice. There was an old cigarette vending machine in the corner, more worn out looking than the model at the Shire, and a mechanical pinball table in the back corner, as well as some typical rural themed decorations on the wall. Several older deer hunters looked at the boys with dim regard and eventually went back to their swill. "Charming place," Ramone muttered sarcastically. "Has a lot of character to it." He enjoyed many a watering hole but this one didn't make the best first impression. His initial impression, composed some years ago, clocked the Silver Light as a three of ten stars.

  In short order, a pretty waitress in a white shirt, jeans, and waist apron, with her blonde hair worn up came to greet them. Ramone immediately took a liking to the bar; what was he thinking before? "Hey ya'll, first time to the Silver Light? Name's Tammy." He edited his rating. It was now seven of ten stars, all courtesy of Tammy. That three was an obvious fluke.

  "Yeah," Ramone said with a warming smile. "Nice place you got here."

  "Thanks. It's a lil slice of home. You boys want a table or maybe sit at the counter?"

  "We're actually looking for a friend here. Name's Jessie. Perpetual scowl on his face, kind of shaped like an autumn squash?"

  "Oh. OH. The limping guy. Yeah, he's here along with some British fella. I got them staked out at a wall booth on the other side. Saaay... is he in trouble? Your friend wanted a seat without windows."

  "Oh... um, we're not sure. Probably not?" Simon answered sheepishly. "But, thank you. Can you take us to him?"

  "Sure can. Follow me, boys. Drink specials are..."

  Sure enough, sitting against a windowless side of the opposite wall at a booth were both Jessie and Nielson, the latter whom they more or less knew from the Christmas parties they attended at Mannington Manor. Jessie wore his usual suspicious gaze and sat with two and a half empty beer glasses in front of him. Nielson was poised straight in his seat, looking horribly out of place for the scene. He was drinking something in a fancier long neck glass. Ramone guessed it to be a martini or something similar. "Jess, Nielson- hey, good to see you."

  "Likewise, young sirs."

  "Uhh, just Ramone and Simon is fine." Ramone muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He had forgotten about Nielson's peculiar sense of formal etiquette. It seemed so alien in this day and age.

  "As you like."

  Turning aside, Jessie spoke to his uncle's butler. "Nielson, thanks for everything but I need to speak to the guys alone. You can head back at this point. You already went beyond the call of duty for me today and I know Paul has you getting up early."

  "Are you certain, Master Jessie? This is not the most upstanding of drinking halls to lay low in."

  "True. But I think we'll be alright for now. You be careful out there, too."

  "Of course. Worry not about me. Please stay in touch and call me if you need any assistance. I will endeavor to respond at a moment's notice." Jessie gave an uncommon smile and patted Nielson on the shoulder. Nielson bowed, dropped some money on the table for his half-finished drink and departed. He attracted many looks on the way out, no thanks to his still clean servant's uniform.

  They watched him go and then Jessie's friends turned to him. "You mind telling us what that was all about?" Ramone inquired.

  "Hold on. First off, where the hell were you two earlier?" Jessie demanded in his muttering voice. "I must have called you two dozen times. Did you go to the shore or something?"

  Ramone and Simon looked at each other awkwardly, realizing they hadn't thought about what they were going to say concerning what happened. Simon made an attempt to explain it briefly. "Uhh... well... we were sort of around, I guess you could say. It's... uh... it's complicated." It wasn't a very good try.

  "What?"

  "Um, hey... why don't we table that for a little later," Ramone interjected. "We weren't available but we got your message and responded as soon as we could. Why don't we start with that?"

  "Meh. Fine. I've had a day," sighed Jessie, polishing off his third drink with a bottomless chug. A waitress then came by to take their orders as Jessie composed himself. He looked very agitated. Maybe more than usual, if that was somehow possible. "It goes like this..."

  "Okay, so Niels-, er, Nielson wakes me up in the morning for my usual meeting with Paul... you know, my uncle."

  "Right."

  "I go there- have the usual shitfest with the man and leave in a huff. He still gets under my skin to this day. Fine, another weekend day wasted. So Nielson's driving me back and we get into gridlock. Cars aren't moving anywhere and there's a plume of smoke coming from down the road. There's fire trucks, police, all kinds of emergency personnel racing down the oncoming side of the road. We sit in traffic for about forty minutes and we get detoured. Right as that happens; we're passing by the intersection next to my job. Fucking building's on fire!"

  "Holy shit. Dude, I'm sorry..." Ramone said in consolation. "What happened next?"

  Jessie continued, starting his now fourth beer. "Well, needless to say, I get out of the car and went to the crowd around the whole thing. Nielson went off to park down the road. At first, I'm just staring at this thing, trying to figure out what in the nine hells just happened, and then I start asking a nearby cop questions. Turns out they're looking for me and they take me aside."

  "Looking for you?" inquired Simon. "What for?"

  "What for? Didn't you get my messages? They thought I did it. Me, of all friggin' people! Why would I burn down Chang's? That's my damn temple, right there. So, anyway... they're questioning me, where was I, why'd I do it, and so on. Usual idiot questions and lies to try to get you to slip up and admit something to something you didn't do. I give them my story about three times in the back of a squad car before Nielson comes by and confirms it. And a little later on, they got Paul to give an alibi for me."

  "Of course, I'm raising hell. After the talk I had with my uncle, I thought that asshole wound up doing it behind my back. He's been trying to get me to leave the Fix-It shop for ages. I think they talked to him about it later, too, but I don't know for certain."

  "Anyway, they determined whoever did it; it was an act of arson. I lost my job, my apartment, my belongings, even my car... I got nothin' now. The fire company doesn't seem to think it was an accident at all."

  "Again, I'm sorry, man. I know you loved that place. And no one deserves to lose their home after something like that to some punk," Ramone said, patting him on the shoulder. Jessie looked at him darkly out of frustration, but conceded a nod.

  "Thanks..." he sighed, seeming to calm down a little. "But... story's not done yet."

  "More?" Simon asked incredulously. "What the heck else could happen? They charge you with illegally parked flaming wreckage?" He felt bad this happened to his friend. Jessie could be a difficult person, but he didn't deserve anything remotely like this.

  Jessie grimaced and reached for his cell phone, one of his few remaining possessions. He tapped a few buttons and produced for them a message. "Take a look at this," he stated flatly as he held aloft the screen. "For the record, there's no number attached to it."

  -It is said if something can be destroyed by truth, then it is worth being destroyed. But if the truth itself can be destroyed except by the hands of the few who will not speak it, then they will follow that dogma first and foremost (1 of 2) -

  -Make yourself unknown to them. Hide. They will stop at nothing to protect the secrets. Find your friends after sunset. .-L. (2 of 2)-

  "L?" Simon inquired. "Who is this guy?"

  Jessie cast a slow side glance. "He's... Leonard. You know that thing about a Bill Cosby movie I asked the other day? It was a challenge put together by this guy."

  "Okay... how does he figure into this?"

  "That's just it, I don't know. I don't even know who he is. I thought he was just some putz on the forum I frequented, but he has a way of kno
wing things. Um, he even said he came into my shop at one point, not that I knew who he was. He might've gotten my number from my cellphone at work when I wasn't looking."

  Jessie looked uncomfortably away from their gazes. "When we went to the Green Military base? Maybe I should have said this at some point, but the truth of the matter is I got the idea from a rumor he started. And he knew we went. He's been messing with me ever since."

  His friends stared at him long and hard. Jessie's expression indicated he wasn't feeling very proud of himself. "I don't know if he set us up or not. It's entirely possible he did. But for the life of me, I can't figure out what the hell he wants. Just to see if he can manipulate people? Or is he trying to tell me something while needing to be vague?"

  "I don't doubt that he knows something more than pertinent about this whole thing with the men in black suits, but if he wanted me out of the way, he could have done so already. I just don't see what he really has to gain from all of this. Maybe he gets off on being a sociopath of some kind, but I get the feeling he's got some other agenda I just don't see yet. I still haven't determined if he had a hand in burning my place down."

  "Sounds dangerous," Simon added. "Well, uh... if we're all coming clean about stuff? There's something I've been meaning to tell you guys, as well." His friends looked at him curiously.

  "It was only a few days ago when one of those guys in the black Lincolns went looking for me during my work route. I managed to duck him, but he... was being pretty specific. No way was it a coincidence. I'm positive he was looking for me."

  "Seriously?" Ramone asked. "When was this?"

  "That day I spoke with Vikktorea, so not too long ago. Haven't seen them on my route since. Still... do you think they burned down Jessie's place?"

  The table went quiet. Ramone's brow looked troubled. Jessie kept his head cast down but quietly nodded. "They may be coming for us," Jessie whispered. "I didn't know who at first, but I had a hunch, after all that's happened and with what Leonard is saying. That's why I said we should meet up here. I don't know where is safe right now, but I figured an obscure bar in Black Mountain would throw them off the path if they were still searching for me. Ramone, have you seen them since?"

  "No, not at all. I had no idea this was happening. Man, oh, man... we did it this time, didn't we? What is going on??" The table was again silent for a time as the young men started to see trouble could be following them collectively.

  "Hey Jessie?" Simon finally piped up after a minute seeming to stir with some realization. "Let me see that message again?"

  Jessie brought it back up and passed the phone over. "What is it?"

  Simon stared at the message long and hard, unable to immediately answer. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead. "This... can't be a coincidence."

  "What?" Jessie demanded. Ramone looked on with a face of concern.

  "You're right. Leonard knew," Simon said quietly to his friends. "Ramone, look at this line right here."

  -Find your friends after sunset.

  Ramone looked at the words closely. And slowly, Simon's implication dawned on him. His eyes began to widen and he covered a gasp with his brawny hand. "No way... there's just no... how?"

  "How what? What are you two going on about?" Jessie asked, raising his head.

  Simon and Ramone glanced at each other. "Well," began Simon. "I think we need to tell you why we didn't immediately answer your phone calls. And where we were between yesterday's carnival and today. Leonard's message seems to have a very specific choice of words here. Sunset seems like it would mean Setting Sun, as in the carnival's name. And we would only be able to meet afterwards, realistically."

  Jessie's eyes searched them suspiciously and insisted on more. "This is going to require another drink," said Simon, motioning for the waitress. Ramone's face seemed to pale a bit.

  Over the better course of an hour, Jessie's friends told him of their misadventures concerning the Setting Sun carnival, the red eyed version of Dresden Port, and Ullah Siestere with his talk of 'Drifters'. They showed him the incoherent phone number of digits and symbols. Everything was being put on the table, save for the dream about the maze in Ramone’s car, since it seemed irrelevant.

  Yet as they sat there with the number of unusual stories that had taken place over the last few weeks, there was no more of a tangible theme than before. It wasn't even clear if anything was related, although there was the implication of some connection. Only the unknown itself was manifesting... however slowly, however surely.

  Jessie seemed puzzled by his friends’ account of events. Their description of how point A reached point B didn't make much sense, so much as it simply 'happened'. He liked a logical progression to things, a mystery to be solved with evidence and experience. He had little of either right now, just hearsay. But it was clear something was happening to the three of them. Ramone might have been a kidder, but Simon wasn't really the type to bust his chops. Or lie all that effectively. And from what he saw in the two of them, from their faces and mannerisms, they were both haunted. They did see something.

  The arsonist in Jessie's situation didn't make himself known. The fact that it was done in broad daylight seemed to send a message to him. 'I/We can get you at any time. And no one will know who did it.' Leonard was definitely a suspect, if just because he knew so much, but his motivations were unclear aside from a possible interest in harassing Jessie.

  But Leonard's text also implied 'the few' who would protect a secret through destruction. Something Jessie and his friends weren't meant to know or see. Such as the whole encounter in the GM base and the esoteric contents of the briefcase... which he sadly never got a significant moment to investigate. And now those notes had been destroyed in the flames of the arsonist. If Leonard had not set fire to his shop and home, then the Men In Black or those who worked for them, certainly would have had the motivation. The fact that one of them went after Simon was telling. Even though he didn't have the notebook, he was a recognized witness.

  "Geez. When it rains, it pours. So now what?" Ramone asked aloud, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "Whether it's related or not, we stirred up a nest of wasps here. I'm not looking forward to the idea of working on a muffler only to find some guy in a suit pointing a piece at me when I go for a clamp. And it seems like whatever happened to Simon and I may yet happen again. And... we don't know when." Simon nodded softly, but didn't add anything. "Further, you need a place to stay, Jessie. I'm guessin' your uncle's house is out of the question."

  Jessie sniffed. "Ehhh... if it can be helped. I know it's imposing, but I'd rather be anywhere else than there. And... I feel like we might need to stay within some proximity of each other. Not like we can get Chief Madley's men to watch out for boogey men. Or make it obvious that we were trespassing in the first place."

  "Jess, I'll take you in- I've got no problem with that," Ramone stated clearly. They could be like cats and dogs, but Ramone was loyal to his friend. "But we all work different places and times. It's just not practical to build a little couch fort and hide."

  "I know," Jessie grunted. "That hasn't escaped me. I thank you for the offer all the same, though. Um..." He looked down bashfully, forced to concede some pride. "I was thinking before, since this might be a problem that affects all of us... and now it most certainly does on a much greater level than I originally considered... well, maybe we should leave town. I'm not saying it'll help you with this Drifter thing, but if we don't leave an obvious trail, those men in black might not be able to find us."

  It didn't occur to the other two that leaving town would have been an option. Unlike Jessie, this was where they grew up in entirety. Their jobs were centered here. Problems seemed to come and go, but none of them had really dealt with something quite like this. And of course, there was the nagging suspicion that it would follow them wherever they went, as if they’d buried some revenant of a sin behind them; would the past catch up? Would those gun toting men find them? Could they really run from this?

&
nbsp; The table was quiet for some time, their minds heavy with doubt and undesirable outcomes, regardless of what options they took. Empty glass mugs piled up around them, but they couldn't be anything but sober now, except maybe Jessie. Simon or Ramone would make a moment of small talk or unrelated chatter, but nothing seemed to clear the air. A bad moon was rising.