by Lucas Alpay
Someone knocked on the door. “It’s not locked!” Fritz said over his shoulder, a recording still playing by his earphones. He heard the door open, and then footsteps, and then a sigh of a woman beside him. It was Natasha.
“It’s not over,” she said. “And I know you think that too.”
“You’re getting good in this,” he commended and removed his earphones and pressed the digital stop button of his smart phone, a fake button.
“Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Explain to me why,” Fritz asked like a tutor reviewing his student after their session.
“Russian restaurant…”
He scratched his nose. “That’s what I’m thinking too. Have you warned Erik about this?”
“I did. I explained to him why I think that. He agreed and told me that he would station a few men here, and he would be dreaming a few Cynthias and Jacks to be joining this operation of ours. Do you think that’s enough?”
“I don’t know… I honestly don’t know what to think right now, I just want to know why he is doing this.”
A moment of silence passed between them. They stood there at the balcony with the sound of the cold wind brushing over the garden and the nightmarish trees in front of the mansion. Sandmen old and new below them were preparing for war, they were hauling boxes that contained handguns and short swords. All of them easily concealed.
“Was he a good man? Your tandem?” Natasha suddenly asked.
Fritz tried hard to think of an answer. He felt like it was a trick question. “He was efficient in the field, but like everyone else he had darkness in him. More than the others, perhaps. But for me, for all over those years I’ve been with him, I’ve seen goodness a few times.”
“A complicated man then… just like Erik,” Natasha said in finality.
But he wanted to say to her that Mark had liked rape, he wanted to tell her the girls in various ages he had penetrated forcefully before killing them in cold blood. Mark, he knew, hadn’t been close in being a good man. There had been a shred of pure evil in him; he had thought of unlicensed dreams as animals and playthings in human form, so he had done just about anything to them, especially the ladies. Fritz then realized that he wasn’t surprised he had been killed… but sad? You could say that he was sad for his passing, he had no choice because he was the only one who could express such emotion for that evil man.
Chapter 23
As the dark skies conquered the city, countless sandmen in civilian clothing surrounded a diner next to the hospital where Rowan Wood was working at. This diner, this particular one, was the favorite place Rowan would go to. A place of sanctuary for the stress given to him by the hospital. This information had been gathered by a few sandmen in the city’s offices. They had also reported that they had interviewed one of the waitresses in the place and found out that Rowan Wood liked to eat alone, the waitress had also said that she had never seen him with anyone since he’d began eating in their place a year ago. And just like any general spreading his spies on the enemy territory, Erik found this to be an opportune moment, the right time to attack.
Fritz was in another restaurant, carefully watching from afar. Sharing the table with him was Natasha, while both of their protectors were sitting around the table adjacent to theirs; their protectors were the only ones who were wearing invisibility rings because of their appearance and their hard-headedness in not taking off their masks. What’s with the secrecy? Fritz thought. There was a newspaper next to his coffee, and although it had been just for show, when the time had stretched and they still hadn’t found any of Rowan Wood, he found himself reading a few of the articles in it. Natasha on the other hand was reading a book about murder and maybe something else, one of the genres he liked himself. He wanted to ask her what was the story all about, but didn’t instead. He reminded himself not to get too attached, because from the get-go, this was just a job.
“It’s about a murder of a detective,” Natasha suddenly said, her eyes still on the pages of the book. “There’s also a little love story in here, just the way I like it,” she looked up and smiled at him. Fritz hoped she couldn’t notice his baffled countenance. “Don’t worry, I’m not psychic, it’s just one of my talents Erik has given me. Meaning the longer I’m with a person, the more I will know. Like a shrink.”
“Right… Really?” he sipped his coffee and turned another page of the newspaper. He was not in the mood for small talk, he was actually continuously anticipating something as the sandmen went in circles around the block of the diner furtively. He was expecting someone to be killed.
Natasha reached for his hand, “Don’t worry, the sandmen Erik created are of high quality. They can handle themselves there. There are also the old-timers with them, you know. So relax.”
“Aren’t you bothered with this guy? He creates dreams with souls, dreams that can dream for themselves. There’s a reason why we can’t do that. If the balance is tipped, then it would mean... human extinction, something you are already aware of... we don’t need them anymore… We don’t need them anymore to exist.”
“You care for the humans?”
Fritz didn’t know how to answer that. He was still deciding if Rowan Wood was the best thing that happened to their secret world, or he was just a psychopath who wanted to kill just to feel satisfied. With that kind of people, you can’t reason with, the only thing that you could do to them is to stop them. But as the idea of dreams capable of dreaming sank into Fritz’s mind deeper and deeper like two fangs of a snake, he was starting to think that Rowan Wood was the salvation of creatures like him. If there were no humans, there would be no responsibility for the sandmen. He could live a life he always wanted and never die, he could live in the world filled with immortal dreams.
He found a smile on his lips.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing… I was just thinking of... hmm, something.” He looked at Natasha. “Say… Have you ever thought about ditching Erik? Living a normal life with somebody? A human, perhaps?… A dream?”
Natasha closed her book and looked across the street. “Yes. I’ve thought of it… many times, but Erik has something that belongs to me. I can’t leave him anytime sooner.”
“What is it?”
She lay her eyes on him, her stare seemed considering if she would answer, her lips curving a small frown. “You won’t believe it even if I tell you.”
“Try me.”
No reply.
“I’ve lived for centuries, I may not remember them all but it’s safe to say that I’ve seen just about everything, heard everything, experienced almost everything… Trust me on this.”
Natasha still gave him that considering look, “I’m sure you haven’t heard this before. Trust me on this. In your centuries, have you ever seen a dream with soul?”
“Fair enough… But what is it? What’s this thing Erik has from you?”
She looked down at her book, a scowl on her forehead. “I don’t want to talk about it…”
Fritz nodded and looked back at the diner. Still there was no Rowan Wood.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Fritz nodded.
“Why do sandmen change their names?”
He shrugged. “Just for fun. You have to change the things every once in a while because if you live as long as I do, everything would be repetitive, and if everything is repetitive, nothing is unpredictable. So, changing names is one of the things we do. To go with the times.”
“… Am I predictable?”
“You want the truth?”
Natasha smiled, “Yes, I want the truth, and don’t worry about hurting me. Truth always hurts.”
“Of course you want the truth. And yes, I think with your personality, you’re predictable. I’ve seen your kind plenty times. Beautiful girls always manipulate people to do their bidding, and even if you don’t know it, I know there’s a manipulative bitch inside that hot…” he breathed in, “highly irresistible body. B
ut mind you, not all of 10 over 10 girls are like this, but most. Most. And you, milady, are one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen. You’re actually on the list of the life events I haven’t experienced. Just like a dream with his soul.”
“Experienced? Irresistible body?” she asked with eyebrows up and a teasing smile.
“That came out wrong. Sorry.”
She grabbed her cup of coffee and drank, her lips soft against the porcelain white. “So you think you’re a smart ass. Don’t underestimate me, as you already know, I can also read you,” she said in jest.
“Oh, really?” he sniggered. “Okay, I’ll humor you. Tell me the things you assume about me these couple of days. Read me like your book.”
Natasha rested her back and looked at him from head to toe. She made her eyes squint, and made her teeth bite her lower lip. It was as if she were about to paint him instead of analyze him.
“You hate being an investigator.”
He smiled and wished they had beers. “What gives me away?”
“Gave you away,” she corrected. “It was your face during our first meeting. You looked pissed. You had these lines on your forehead and you wanted to meet Erik immediately, it made me assume that you wanted to get this over as soon as possible.”
“Wow… never thought you have it in you. Not just a pretty face, huh? I like that. What else?” He raised his hand and called the waitress. He asked for two beers.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. You want experience, then this is a part of it, knowing people without actually knowing them. It’s a good skill I tell you. Look, take this as a test and I promise you I won’t get offended,” after saying that, he suddenly thought that he’d dug his own grave.
Natasha obliged him. “You care for the humans, and I think you won’t admit it even to yourself…”
He tried not to look regretful in his decision. “Give me the rationale of that.”
She looked at his eyes in a dark gaze. “Olivia.”
He felt his heart tighten, and he asked himself how she could possibly know that name. Maybe she’s fucking psychic after all. And before he could continue to wonder, Natasha spared him of the pain.
“The name woke me up when we’ve slept together. You kept calling her, telling that you’re sorry.”
“… How do you know she’s human?”
“Treat it as a calculated guess,” she went on. “I’ve also seen the way you reacted about your partner… and… you haven’t shed a tear. I thought in our first meeting that you were just distressed because your officemates have died in the attack, but when you found out about… wassisname?... Mark?” he nodded, “the only thing you displayed was shock—I watched you for a few hours but I didn’t see sadness… And that led me to believe that you were distressed because you don’t want the job tasked to you—”
“I’ve stood frozen outside the garage for hours, Natasha,” it was the first time he said her name that way, like it was needed to be uttered with strain. “I’ve mourned for my friend.”
“A friend you’ve known that had evil in him… more than necessary. That statement says your morality is intact for all over these years, and when you said ‘evil’, I guessed that there’s a hidden part of you that despises Mark.” She looked at him carefully, her eyes in question of herself if what she’d said were all true. “That’s why I think Olivia is human… Because I couldn’t see your care for your kind, such care you hold is only superficial, so I deduced that Olivia is not a dream. That left me with a lover or a human… Do you want me to continue?”
Fritz hid his clenched fists under the table. Keep your cool, asshole… “Sure, you’re gettin’ good.” But she kept looking, asking for his permission, if he were sure. “No, please, I’m fine, continue.” Bitch.
“I’m sorry…”
But before she could elaborate that apology in a whole paragraph, someone entered the restaurant and called their attention. “Don’t stand up, it won’t do you anything good.”
It was Rowan Wood.
Chapter 24
Cynthia and Jack immediately stood up, their weapons drawn, and at the same time, the waitress got out of the kitchen, holding two beers. She stopped, staring at the air as if she had heard something. Fritz looked at their protectors and whispered to them to stand down. But instead they didn’t move and waited for the waitress to dismiss what she had heard. And the waitress did just that, she shook her head and went on to Natasha and Fritz to give what had been ordered.
“Make that three please,” said Rowan with an irresistible smile.
Fritz gazed back at the diner and found that the sandmen were now in their respective positions of attack. This meant that they thought Rowan was there. How could that be?
Still unmoving, Jack and Cynthia let Rowan sit next to Natasha. They should’ve made a move, but the waitress stopped them again with that ice cold beer in her hand. Rowan said thank you once she delivered it to their table.
“Still down with the underground society I see,” Rowan said, and drank from the bottle. The waitress finally went back to the kitchen. “It’s so lame.”
Fritz nodded to Jack, and with it Jack lifted his sword and stabbed him in the chest. The blade passed through like a knife to a cake. Rowan looked at the buried blade in shock.
“I’m not expecting that…” he said, blood drained out of his face. “I thought Erik told you to capture me… alive…”
Fritz drank his beer, “They’ll definitely eat my ass on this, but you’re an abomination. You deserve to die.”
Rowan’s head was beginning to bow down, the spark in his eyes disappearing. Fritz stood up and held out his hand towards Natasha. She took it, propped herself, stood, and they both approached the door, behind them their protectors followed. But when they were about to get out, Natasha squeezed Fritz’s hand and pulled him back.
“Look,” she said, her eyes pointing at the other end of the street. Fritz saw dozens of assassins waiting, moving silently on a poorly lit alley, their swords were glinting and bouncing off the little light from the street.
“It’s never that easy, don’t be naïve, William,” Rowan said. They looked behind and saw that he was now sitting on the stool at the bar. “Never think that someone like you can defeat me, you’re just an investigator.”
“What did you call me?” Fritz said, his hand now touching his gun.
“Please, save your anger into something of worth. You’ve seen the blade, right? You think that loud thing would work against me?”
But Fritz still pulled out his gun, moved towards him and pointed the weapon in point-blank over his temple. He was breathing hard, every bit of memory of the past rupturing his mind.
Rowan sighed tiredly. “Before you speak, which I know would end in an exclamation point, think of the witnesses in this diner. There’s still the night shift cook in there, the waitress too. Think about your secret society and all of their rules.” He spread his arms, the beer still held by his left hand. “William, all I need from you is a couple of minutes. You can bring Ms. Natasha too.” He drank. “You have nothing else to do because my own version of sandmen won’t let you out alive without my word against it. That is, if you walk out of that door. We don’t want that…”
A hand landed on Fritz’s shoulder. “Let’s sit,” Natasha said, her voice composed. “How can we be sure that you won’t kill us?”
“You can’t. I hold all the cards here, so all you have to do is have faith on me,” he presented the table nearest them. “So let’s talk.”
They all sat together while Cynthia and Jack stood close, their weapons still towards Rowan.
“Who is in the other diner?” Fritz asked, his gun placed on the table.
“Me. Well, a dreamt clone of me. I can do that, you know, makes me feel like an immortal just as you.”
“Why do you want to talk to us?” this was Natasha. “Why not just kill us?”
Rowan looked at her, and the way he did mad
e Fritz angry. It was warm, familiar, with care, as if he knew her all of her life. Or it could be this was Natasha’s talent full blown, making him more controlled.
“William here… hm… I’m still debating if I’ll let him live, but you, I won’t let anyone hurt you, Natasha. Never, I’m going to kill everyone that hurts you, and I know who… Soon enough, tonight actually. That’s why I want to talk to you, to warn you on what would unfold.”
“What will unfold?” Fritz asked.
“Death and freedom. I’m going to take this city, and that will definitely happen whatever you throw at me. Even myths can’t stop me. That’s why I’m giving you a choice to get out of here.”
“Why?” still Fritz.
“You’ve met Melissa, yes?” Fritz didn’t answer. “And you know where she came from? God, I still can’t believe you’re still not getting this!” he laughed, “Seriously? You’re the best investigator of sandmen?”
“Where the fuck are you going with this?”
“Maybe there’s a missing piece, something Erik hasn’t told you. Yeah, I’m going with that,” he drank, his throat bobbing up and down in each gulp. Fritz wanted to slit it out. After an ahhh, he said, “The trick here is Erik’s late wife and what came after that.” He pointed at Natasha. “Are you the first copy of the lovely Madam Sarah?”
She shook her head. “No… there’s been another one. Erik doesn’t talk about her much…”
“Apparently she was the better version between you two. He liked her because she wasn’t perfect, unlike you. Ummm… look at you, if you’re not just—” he stopped himself, “I would definitely hit on you.”
Fritz held the trigger of his gun.