Desperate By Dusk

by Alexander Salkin

  "I can hardly believe this shit is real," Jessie muttered, shaking his head. "So, I guess I'm not a Drifter then? Because I'm sitting right next to you and I'm not hallucinating."

  Slowly, they all turned to stare at him. And then the two other boys looked at Aveirasen. And finally, back to Jessie. He could feel a certain sense of impending doom approaching him. "Wait… seriously? Aww, damnit. It's gonna happen to me, isn't it?"

  "I... didn't take this into consideration. I suppose it might. Or, maybe you're not a Drifter and nothing will ever happen. The infection doesn't come to those who aren't susceptible to it. I wouldn't go driving alone in the meantime, though," Aveirasen told him, sounding rather apologetic.

  "Don't worry, man." Ramone threw an arm around his stumpy friend. "I got your back. You can trip out at my house if something happens."

  "Yeah. That's a possibility," Jessie said with due sarcasm. "Or... I could have a little episode at your house and while I'm out cold, those guys in suits could come in and end things pretty quickly. Old man Peterson and your rent are still going to expect you to work if we're going back to Dresden Port."

  "Oh yeah..." Ramone said glumly. He had temporarily forgotten about his woes since he met Aveirasen.

  "No, no, you've got it wrong," Aveirasen corrected, making dissuading gesture with her hand. "When someone goes to the other side, it's not a dream. You're quite literally there, all right? That place is very real. I think there are some limitations, but you can definitely get hungry, sleep, and even die there."

  "Interesting," Simon muttered. It hadn't occurred to him that he was actually being whisked away to some other version of his home city. His silent hunch wasn't so much that he was dreaming, but that he had become an astral projection. What she spoke of was something else entirely. "So, if I leave Dresden Port and go to Black Mountain, it'll be red eyed and raining dry ice? I mean, are we in the same place? Er, world? Dimension?"

  "I don't know. As I've mentioned, I've never been able to leave Black Mountain on the other side. I don't even know if everyone goes at exactly in a single moment. Do we know that you two did, more or less? But did you return at the same time?"

  "Might've been a slight difference. If you brought me back to my car but Simon wasn't there, there really isn't a way to tell," Ramone thought aloud. "He was only sitting under a nearby tree from the sound of things. He may or may not have been there. As for me, I guess I got whisked away while I was sitting in Black Beauty?" Aveirasen didn't contradict his question.

  "This is all well and good." Jessie threw up his arms. "But Drifters or not, there's still a more immediate problem with the men in black suits. This bar isn't going to remain open forever. We can't choose to poof away to Never Never Land as if we're making a coffee run."

  "What's this whole matter with 'men in black'?" Aveirasen asked. "I'm not familiar." Ramone sighed wistfully of a time when he didn't have to deal with such a strange problem. Regardless, they obligingly told her their story about the Green Militia base, the suspected culprits of Jessie's fire, and Simon being hunted down the other day. She blinked. "Oh, those guys..." No one took a drink.

  "Not to be cute, but yeah, you're in a pickle. They're very serious from what I've heard. They'll come after you in broad daylight. You must have really set those guys off."

  "Wait, you know who they are?" Jessie exclaimed. "What can you tell us? Because you're right, we're in deep shit with them from what I'm hearing."

  She thumbed her chin in a moment of recollection. "They're called the Clayforged. They obsessively guard secrets and information in all the ways to make a CIA operative blush. They take on disguises to enforce their mysteries, only they're not perfect with it. But they're always imitating others. By themselves, I hear they're pretty amorphous. They're literally living mud and clay."

  Jessie slumped back in his seat. He couldn't believe it. They weren't actual flesh and blood beings? He felt a burden on his heart lift somewhat. He was not someone who relished the idea of killing anyone, but a talking pile of mud? Did he even kill it long term? How does one slay wet earth? "Un-fucking believable. This is getting stranger by the second. Geez, where did you even hear of these things? Seems like something they'd not want it getting around."

  Aveirasen cast her glance at nothing, but away from them. "I'm going to say that's proprietary information. You don't need to be a Clayforged to harbor a secret or two." There was a moment of uncomfortable silence around the table. Ramone already suspected she wasn't entirely out about things, but no one knew what to make of her motives. Jessie sniffed with some frustration.

  "Okay then... in your educated opinion, Aveirasen, what do you think we should be doing? These guys are out for blood; that much is obvious. We've been talking and we've got ideas, but you're the first person who seems to know anything." They had vague ideas at best, but no one challenged Jessie's embellishment.

  She thought it over, looking down at the table before raising her gaze. "You can run, but they'll follow you to some degree. They're extremely well connected and they're supposedly all over the world. You used the term 'Man in Black' well. I do believe many sightings of MIB are in fact Clayforged. As a Drifter, you're harder to follow when you go to the other side. Many won't even bother- they're very territorial in the scheme of things, as I understand it. They'll make hell for you here whenever you come back, though. That's how it is with them." Jessie still wanted to know how she knew all these things, but he was aware asking would be redundant and get him nowhere.

  "Simply put, they're not going to stop as long as they think you're still around, so they can hide whatever it is they don't want you to know. You could... well, I don't know for certain, but you could try faking your deaths. They don't automatically know everything. But you'd be living in hiding and in disguise forever after."

  "This is bullshit," Simon said suddenly. The table went silent. Again, he was probably the least likely to have an outburst of the three friends and even Aveirasen already had him pegged as 'the quiet one'. "Who the hell are they, anyway? Do they have some authority to arbitrarily hold secrets away from others?"

  Aveirasen frowned slightly. "What gives anyone an authority? Oppression? The promise of order or a threat of suffering? The Clayforged... it's what they do. If a bird flies, a rabbit hops, then they guard secrets. It might not be the answer you're looking for, but that's how they exist. I don't know anything more to it than that. I don't know why they are the way they are. To be frank, I don't believe they answer to anyone."

  Simon rubbed his eyes under his sunglasses. They felt tired from the frustration. "We got… well, we had a briefcase from them that contained some odd stuff in a book, I think. But it probably burned up in the fire, according to Jessie. I assume that's the secret they were hiding, for what it's worth. They must think we gleaned something from it."

  "In light of all of this, I probably shouldn't ask," Aveirasen said quietly, "But what was in the book?"

  "Oh gods, they were passing that briefcase back and forth like it meant something," Jessie snorted. "The book itself, well I never got a good look at it, but it was filled with all sorts of symbols, diagrams, and other esoteric crap. The only thing I recognized was an image of a Tree of Life. You know the picture I'm talking about?"

  "Of course," Aveirasen nodded. "To say nothing, there's famous images of trees in many mythologies..."

  Many famous trees... Simon tuned them out momentarily, feeling himself perspire at their conversation. He remembered that peculiar dream he had sitting in Ramone's Challenger. The tree of routes and flows, with patterns and colors, dancing their way down inscrutable paths. He had forgotten about the contents of the book from Jessie's suitcase after all this time. Could it have inspired him to such a vision? He really never got a good look at it either, but the subject matter was quite related. Or so it surely seemed.

  "Simon? You okay?" It was Ramone, tilting his head to the side to look at his uncomfortable friend. "Drink too much...?

  "N-
nah, nah. I'm fine." He looked around and found them staring at him again. "Really." He was not an exceptional liar. Ramone blinked at him with a 'Then what?' expression. Simon sighed. "Well... I was just thinking. After I came back from the other world, I had some kind of dream. And it involved that Tree of Life concept. It was very strange... psychedelic even. You remember, I told you in the car?"

  Seeing just more expecting stares from Jessie and Aveir, Simon told them about his vision, this time in detail. The free floating perspective in the darkness, the illuminated paths of moving textures, the many points of light, and so on. "Just got kind of uncomfortable at the thought of it all, suddenly."

  He looked around at his friends and their guest, trying to gauge their expressions. Ramone had a raised brow, indicating he wasn't sure what to think, but of course he heard some of it already. He was often willing to consider things, but he was already in so deep with issues as they were. Jessie had his usual suspicious look on his squash-like head, but he was probably thinking about something because his visage wasn't as deeply skeptical as it could have been. Aveirasen was still new to him so he didn't have a great feel for her range of reactions. She seemed to take it with some solace. It was particularly hard to read her, since she had sunglasses on at night much like he did. Simon shrugged, not sure what else they were expecting from him.

  Jessie eventually broke the silence and shook his head. "Look, this is all very... interesting, but what are we going to do for now? It's damn near closing time here and the bar is almost empty."

  "Yeah..." agreed Ramone, glumly. "Well, I guess we really can't go back home now. There really doesn't seem to be anything productive we can do, is there? Go, stay, these guys are going to follow us, eh?" Aveirasen patted him on the shoulder.

  "Thanks, Aveir. I'm sorry if we got you involved in this somehow. But you've been a big help... honestly, I'd rather see the bullet coming at me with my name on it, than the one I can't."

  "I wouldn't worry much about that right now. I'd worry about him," she said, gesturing to Jessie. "If he's capable of being infected into a Drifter, you're going to want to lay low on that notion alone. If he gets feverish, you'll know for certain." Jessie looked nonplussed. Clearly, he was not enjoying the possibility of this. There was too much going on. "Come to think of it, you might even wind up with him," she added.

  "Seriously?" Simoned remarked. "How does that work?"

  "I don't know for certain. But remember, that happened to you and Ramone already. I'm just letting you know, it's a distinct possibility. You might feel a little warm in the forehead before you go, too. But hey, if you're over there, the Clayforged aren't going to immediately realize it."

  "Like he said," Ramone mentioned. "How does that work? They might actually follow us somehow? Or contact others of their kind there?"

  "Ramone, I don't have the deepest understanding of the Clayforged, I'm sorry. I know only some generalities about them. You can sort of understand how they don't really allow a lot of information about themselves to get around." She threw her hands up slightly. "This whole Drifter thing is not an easy topic to explain. And I'm kind of limited in my ability to tell you about it since I'm stuck in Black Mountain when it happens."

  A light bulb went off in Ramone's head and he grinned. "Suppose this, then... we're on the other side and I've got my car again... how about we go pick you up?" She took on an expression of some alarm, seemingly not having considered the option. "We get to find out if the red eyed Dresden Port and your dry ice version of Black Mountain are in the same 'place'. And... maybe you can fill us in on some of those secrets in return, hm?" Simon hid a smile. It was sort of corny, but Ramone had a way of being suave and yet hammy when he was trying to persuade someone. More often than not, it worked.

  However, Aveirasen unexpectedly stood up and lowered the brim on her ebony cowboy hat. She rubbed the inside of her elbow with a hint of anxiety and then told him, "I don't... think that would be a good idea. In fact, don't do it. Um, excuse me. Little girl's room. I'll be right back." She put some money down on the table for her drink and walked off suddenly.

  The guys stared and then looked to Ramone who opened up with a confused wide armed shrug. "Uhh... something I said?" It looked like his gift of gab wasn't helping this time.

  "Smooth, jackass. You scared her off," Jessie chided. "Do you seriously not know when you're coming on too strong? Just had to have your cake and eat it, too."

  Ramone furrowed his brow. "What? You're not the least bit curious how she knows all this? We learned more in the last twenty minutes sitting next to her than-"

  "She said she had secrets. They're not secrets if you go around blabbing them. God, you're like a rhino sometimes." Jessie and Ramone started going back and forth, with one offering confused explanations and the other directing insinuations of excessive bravado. It was a scene Simon had seen so many times now. There was no reason to get involved- it would play itself out through their mutual teasing. As much as they antagonized each other, they were friends. Simon had to wonder if the potency of Ramone's personality really did drive off Vikktorea like that? Simon was still wondering in the back of his mind if he was simply the other side of a coin that Vikktorea didn't like in the first place.

  Simon put some money down and got out of the booth while the other two squabbled. "I'm going to check if there's a phone book. I can look up if there are any motels we can crash at." The other two barely heard him, he was certain. He was sure nobody was stumbling drunk but he preferred that no one was driving too far even if they were just buzzed. Simon knew enough of Black Mountain even before the ride up here to take into account that guard rails were as rare as dodos up here. The locals, infamously stand-offish, probably considered it a form of Darwinism for outsiders. He wasn't sure if Aveirasen fit that stereotype or not, but he was leaning towards 'not exactly'.

  CHAPTER 14

  Tammy the waitress directed him to some pay phones (they were still around, amazingly) on the wall by the turnoff to the bathrooms. He expected a dirty old push button phone next to a ratty corkboard, with local bands advertising their need for a competent bassist, and maybe some dubious 'for a good time' numbers scribbled upon it. He was mostly correct. Except there were no requests for a bassist written on thumb tacked note paper and Aveirasen herself was leaning against a wall looking very casual. Her arms were folded and one foot was raised and resting against the bowed wooden paneling. The pose reminded him of how seagulls and flamingoes stood while resting. She looked at him from under the brim of her hat with a Mona Lisa smile. "Simon."

  "Oh, hey..." Wasn't she going to the bathroom? He recalled her looking troubled just moments ago. This was the complete opposite. "Just, eh, looking up motel numbers. Don't mind me." He managed to find a Yellow Pages sitting on a small wooden shelf by the phones. It was only three years out of date. As for Aveirasen, she was Ramone's interest. He didn't know her that well and he considered it a bit rude to look into the eyes of someone else's romantic fascination. Granted, Ramone might have done that, but he wasn't him. He had some standards of his own, despite what anyone else thought.

  "So... you saw the Tree, too," she said quietly. He tensed slightly when she said that behind him. He placed the phone book down and turned to her. He forgot she wore the sunglasses like he did. Looking her in the face wouldn't be rude after all. Everyone was hiding. "Interesting."

  "What do you mean? You're saying you know what I'm talking about?" Simon asked. "Why didn't you mention it before?"

  She shrugged nonchalantly. "Because one only half of your crew believes me and the other is half listening..." She then chuckled. Simon could imagine who was meant by what. "Maybe I should have. I didn't want to drown them in information." She might have done that for Ramone's sake, he suspected. Ramone wasn't dumb, but he only had room for so much new thought at a time before he'd either change the subject or become intellectually passive. Simon thought back to when he and Ramone spoke to Ullah, where he found himself doing the bulk of
the conversation.

  He tilted his head ever so slightly. "Why are you telling me then?" He wasn't trying to be rude, but he was curious. She was pretty but he wasn't certain what he thought of her as a person yet. One came before the other for him. Usually.

  "Because you're the only one of your group of friends that I strongly imagine is a Voice. Like myself. That vision you had is pretty specific about that. It wasn't like a normal dream, was it?"

  Simon hesitated and shook his head. Voice? "No, it wasn't... I can't describe it. It was more surreal than not, but it didn't feel like just any dream. I felt as though I was standing there in the darkness, watching it." She smiled and nodded slightly.

  "I just thought it was interesting to meet another Voice. I've heard of others, but I've never met one in person. They say Voices are usually introverts."