by Gareth Otton
Deep down she knew that meant something important, but under a haze of pain and despair, she couldn’t concentrate long enough to figure out what that meaning was.
1
Sunday, 03rd July 2016
12:26
“Puppies!”
Tad glanced up from his phone as Jen shot across the carpark with a launch speed Lamborghini’s would be envious of. Being wheelchair bound only made it more impressive, and left the woman standing near the open tailgate of her Range Rover holding said puppies, slack-jawed with wonder.
Tad felt the usual evidence of Dream as Jen augmented her forward momentum, but was impressed regardless. While not actually as fast as a supercar, she wasn’t far off. The plume of dust and stone kicked up in her wake pinged and popped against the expensive cars in the carpark. Had Tad not just endured the most tedious hour of his life, he might have cared. Instead, he returned his attention to his phone and the message waiting.
Codeword: Nightcrawler
Urgent Extraction From: 34.232525, 68.817404
Extraction Time: RIGHT NOW!
Tad frowned and pressed the co-ordinates, activating the Google Maps link.
“Shit,” he mumbled as he realised what this was. His brain clicked into a new gear, and he studied the map with interest. There was no street view, so he made do with the satellite mode. He looked for landmarks, buildings and any clue that would give him a feel for what made that place different to anywhere else on earth.
There wasn’t much, so he zoomed out for a better understanding of the wider location. The names were unfamiliar until he zoomed out far enough that the country name appeared in bold.
Afghanistan.
“Shit,” Tad repeated and looked up from his phone again.
He rushed across the carpark toward his daughter, ignoring the angry golfers climbing from their luxury vehicles to protest damaged paintwork. Jen was leaning forward in her chair, pressed right up to the bumper of the black Range Rover, her fingers reaching for the bars of the cage that housed three puppies. The little bundles of fur strained to lick and nibble Jen’s questing fingers while they wagged their tails in delight. They were an odd colour Tad hadn’t encountered on dogs before, a dark grey with an almost blue shine that reminded him of crushed velvet. Though they were puppies, something about them told him they would grow to be giants. Maybe it was their floppy ears or paws that were too big for their frames; whatever the case, they were monsters in the making… albeit cute monsters.
“I didn’t want to name them or I’d grow too attached,” the woman explained to Jen.
“They’re so cute,” Jen gushed, never taking her eyes from the squirming animals and not noticing Tad’s approach. The woman turned to meet him and her eyes went wide when she saw what he was wearing.
Apparently golfers didn’t wear bright-purple, diamond-patterned polo shirts with tartan trousers anymore… if they ever had. He’d kill Tony for the bad advice later and vowed to do his research before trusting the ghost ever again. For now he just had to fight down yet another wave of embarrassment.
The woman was short and in her early sixties, dressed smartly with an expensive-looking haircut that belonged on a younger woman. Her surprise soon grew more intense, something that was common when people noticed how tall he was. Then it ratcheted up another notch as she recognised just who he was.
“Oh my,” she gasped, shock stealing her ability to say anything more eloquent.
“Hi. Sorry if Jen’s bothering you.” Before she could reply he turned to Jen. “We have to go.”
“But the puppies,” Jen said, never turning her head from the animals in question.
“Jen, this is seriou—”
Having recovered from her shock, the woman spoke over him.
“You’re the Dreamwalker!”
Why did people insist on telling him that like he didn’t already know?
“That’s me,” he replied without turning. “Jen, we really need—”
“She’s not a bother,” the woman interrupted again. “I’m just killing time anyway and the puppies love her.”
Jen turned his way with a smirk as she heard the words, but it was only a glance as the puppies were too interesting to look away for long.
Tad opened his mouth to answer, but his phone buzzed again.
Where are you? This is urgent!!
Tad didn’t have time for this and he turned to the woman.
“So long as she’s not a bother, could you do me a favour and watch her for five minutes?”
“What?” the woman asked, startled.
“Thanks,” Tad said, then changed the channel.
As always, it was easy. He pictured himself stepping through a door in his mind, one that separated reality from Dream. Before finishing that journey he thought about a new location thousands of miles away and he turned around, stepping through the door again without ever registering Dream.
The heat hit him first. It was warm in England, but there’s the warmth of a British summer day and the oppressive heat of the Middle East. One was to the other what a candle was to the sun. Tad’s crippled fingers twitched, but he didn’t have long to worry about the heat because the next thing he noticed was the sharp crack of gunfire.
He dropped into a crouch, looking around with wide eyes. He found himself in the middle of a street of two-storey buildings that were the same dusty beige colour as the ground. From street level they didn’t look like the buildings he’d seen on the satellite image, and it didn’t help that half of them were no longer in one piece.
The stone walls were pockmarked with bullet holes, and in some places whole sections of a building were missing. Smoke rose from the shell of the nearest building and as more loud cracks filled the air, further bullet holes appeared on the already ruined stone in a direct line to where he’d stood before ducking. His instincts screamed for him to move and he dived aside just in time to miss yet more bullets as they whizzed by.
He swore as he hit the ground, the sharp stones digging into his side. Still those guns cracked and in his desperation he reached for that door in his mind again.
Inspired by how his movement stirred up the dust, he remembered his hard-learned lessons of how to correctly use Dream. He created a mental image that worked with nature rather than created something from nothing. Months of nightmare fighting had honed his ability so he could build an image quickly. When he reached for the door in his mind again, there was no resistance.
As always, he felt euphoric as Dream flooded his body and energised him. He let it build until he was confident that it could make his imaginings reality, then unfolded his vision on the world.
Dream left as quickly as it came, reshaping reality. The air he disturbed by rolling over flared up with new motion and stirred up a mini wind-storm. Dust billowed into a cloud that blocked Tad from view. Within a second visibility on the street was almost nothing and Tad didn’t waste his chance.
The gunfire paused in confusion before firing up again, but Tad was already gone. Ignoring his scrapes and bruises, he struggled to his feet, tripping and stumbling before he found his balance and rushed to safety. Of course, safety was a relative term, but he assumed heading away from gunfire was a good start.
Blinking the dust from his eyes, he stayed low as he rushed for a bombed out building, throwing himself over a damaged wall into the gloom beyond.
Swearing under his breath, he scrambled through the rubble into another room, then another, and soon he was at the rear of the building where he paused to think. He could still hear gunfire, but it sounded distant and less urgent. They had stopped shooting at him.
Letting out an explosive sigh, he put his back against a wall and rubbed his eyes.
“What the hell?” he swore to himself, wondering just what he’d gotten into.
The Nightcrawler programme was something Tad had worked out with the Prime Minister. While happy, if not eager, for Tad to work with the Dream Team to stop nightmares and get the
Borderlands under control, Tad had talents that were impossible for the Prime Minister to ignore. His dreamwalking was one such talent.
A Nightcrawler text meant he was to drop everything and dreamwalk to whoever sent it. It would literally be a life and death situation so he had to be quick.
They assured him it was a protocol that would never be used, but here Tad was in a war zone wondering just what the hell he could do next.
He glanced back the way he came. He didn’t want to go back, but he had to find the owner of that text. He couldn’t go home empty-handed.
You can’t go home with a bullet in your head either.
Usually his inner thoughts took on the voices of his lost ghosts, mainly Charles. This time it was Stella. He’d been on the wrong side of her lectures about his safety too often and could now hear them when she wasn’t around.
He fished his phone out of his pocket, hoping to find another text. Instead, he found a cracked screen from his roll on the floor.
“Perfect, now what?” he muttered.
“Now we get out of here?”
Tad yelped, in a manly way of course, and spun toward the voice.
A man entered through the back door wearing desert camouflage, complete with a helmet and bullet-proof vest. He carried a gun pointed at Tad, but lowered it after a tense moment. Tad let out a sigh of relief.
“Ryan?” he asked, recognising the face under that dust and a much longer beard than when last Tad saw him.
“One and the same,” the soldier said as he put his back against the wall and leant out so he could look back outside.
Tad had met Ryan five times before, the first two meetings in the presence of the Prime Minister. He’d never learned the man’s rank or anything beyond that one name, but Norman made it clear Ryan was to play a big part in the looming war that grew more likely with every passing day. Tad met him three times since to plan procedures and train with him. Despite the mystery surrounding him, Tad liked the man.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to get me,” he said with a familiar quirky grin. “Late to the party as always, hey Holcroft?”
Tad bristled and stood up straight. “I came as soon as I received the message.”
“And dressed for the occasion. At least you caused a distraction. I was taking heavy fire until you popped up dressed like that.” He laughed and looked Tad up and down. “What the hell are you wearing?”
Tad thought he was over his embarrassment, but he blushed and looked away. At least he’d lost the hat.
“It’s Tony’s fault. He insisted golfers wore this.”
“And you believed him? That’s a pub golf costume, isn’t it? No wonder they shot at you the second you arrived. You stand out here like… No, actually you stand out everywhere.”
“It’s not my fault. What the hell am I supposed to know about golf? The doctor me and Jen met today insisted on playing a round and—”
A distant explosion cut his words short. The walls shook and dust fell from the already precarious ceiling.
“Fascinating story, but how about you tell me the rest somewhere safer?” Ryan suggested, glancing up and looking as nervous as Tad felt.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Tad said as he offered the soldier his hand. “Don’t forget to jump.”
Ryan grinned. “I remember.”
The second his hand touched Tad, he jumped and Tad changed the channel.
For the second time the temperature was the first thing he noticed. He was back in the warmth of the British summer, but felt like he’d stepped out of an oven. The fingers of his left hand twitched in appreciation of being somewhere cool.
Once again sound assaulted him before he had chance to get his bearings, and both he and Ryan spun to face it, the latter bringing his rifle up to face the threat.
The woman’s scream only grew louder as the gun pointed in her direction. She shrank against her Range Rover as three puppies barked in outrage on her behalf.
“Easy, put that down,” Tad said, pushing the barrel of Ryan’s gun towards the floor.
Ryan eyed the woman, the carpark and the golfers near the clubhouse with a frown before turning back to Tad.
“What the hell are we doing here? The plan was to be in London, remember.”
“I needed to pick up Jen. I didn’t think you’d shoot innocent people.”
Shamefaced, Ryan backed further away from the woman. “Her scream startled me.”
“Well, you appeared out of nowhere,” Jen said casually as she calmed the three puppies that were now in her lap and squirming to get Ryan. “Don’t worry guys, he won’t hurt her. Ryan just jumps at loud noises like a scared little girl.”
Despite himself, Ryan grinned and nodded at Jen as though she’d just scored a point. Jen grinned right back, then returned her attention to the puppies.
“Jen, let’s go,” Tad said. “Give the puppies back to the lady.”
Jen’s grin vanished and she looked at Tad with her own puppy eyes. “Can’t we just—”
“No, we need to go.”
“You know, Mary said these little guys need a new home,” Jen said as she reluctantly started handing the puppies back. “She said she’s moving and needs to—”
“No,” Tad said, seeing where this was leading. “We’re not getting a dog.”
All sweetness vanished from Jen and her aura flared with its usual red. “Why not?”
“Because you’re at school 5 days a week and I work at least that long myself, so there’ll be no one to look after them. You’re also supposed to be studying with a doctor soon, remember? Besides, our lives are crazy enough without dogs added to the mix.”
Sighing, Jen handed the last puppy back before turning away with a heartbroken expression. “I suppose you’re right,” she said.
With a last look at the puppies, who whimpered to regain her attention, she manoeuvred her wheelchair away from the car. Jen cringed as their crying went up a notch, then picked up a little speed with the aid of Dream to get away quicker. She was just fast enough to disturb yet more stones and dust, chipping more paint and earning Tad furious looks from golfers who crowded close to watch the fun.
“Hey, you’ve been practicing,” Ryan said to Jen.
She grinned at him and nodded. “You should see how fast I can go when I really try. That was nothing.”
“I told you wheels could be better than legs,” Ryan said, offering his hand for a high five that Jen was more than willing to oblige. Tad rolled his eyes and left before the golfers rioted.
Gripping Jen’s shoulder and Ryan’s arm, he said, “Jump,” and the world changed.
The temperature cooled again as they appeared in an air-conditioned room on an army base outside London. It was laid out like a doctor’s office, complete with a table, chair, gurney, and a closed cabinet. As soon as Tad received the Nightcrawler text, an alert was sent to this base to prep the room for Tad’s arrival. Should he shout, medics would rush through that door in an instant. Giving Ryan a once over, Tad decided they weren’t needed.
“Alright, want to tell me what that was about?” Tad asked. “You could have given me a heads up that I was heading into a war zone?”
“War zone?” Jen asked as she checked Tad out for the first time, concern on her face. “Why are you so dusty?”
Tad ignored her and waited for Ryan, who wasn’t apologetic in the slightest.
“We covered this before, and you know I can’t answer your questions.” When Tad didn’t respond, he softened his stance and sighed. He stepped over to the table and leaned against it. “I suppose you’ll find out later anyway, so it can’t hurt.”
“Find what out?” Tad asked, losing his patience.
“There hasn’t been fighting in that village for years,” Ryan said, suddenly sounding exhausted. “That was one of the more stable regions in the country and remained that way because of the American base nearby.”
“So why the fighting
today?” Tad asked.
“Because the Americans aren’t there anymore. They never told us they were pulling out, but the rumours have been spreading and I went to find the truth. They’re gone. Almost every base has a skeleton crew at best.”
“What does that mean?” Jen asked, only half listening as she looked out the window at some kind of commotion outside.
Ryan frowned, not enjoying briefing a little girl, but he answered regardless.
“It means that while US military recruitment continues to rise, they’re pulling already committed assets back home.”
Tad frowned as he worked it out and didn’t like the answers his mind provided. Not wanting to assume, he asked, “So why recruit if they’re pulling out of active war zones?”
Ryan gave Tad a look that told him he already knew the answer, and Tad groaned.
They were marshalling their resources and preparing for something new. Something like an invasion across the Atlantic that would put them at odds with the rest of the world all at the same time. Tad felt the urge to sit as he suddenly felt sick. He suspected the already impossible task of stopping nightmares once and for all just got a new deadline.
He was about to question Ryan some more when suddenly Jen spoke.
“Puppies,” she said in a surprised tone. “Dad, come see this.”
Curious, he stepped over to the window and frowned as his mind struggled with the odd coincidence. Outside, two soldiers chased a small dog around the compound that had similar colouring to the puppies Jen was petting minutes earlier.
“That’s a weird coincidence,” Tad said. “I’d never seen that shade on a dog before today and now twice in a few minutes.”
“Dad, that’s the same puppy. We must have brought it with us.”
Tad stepped away from the window, shaking his head. “They were nowhere near us. That one just looks familiar is all.”
“No. See the way the hair on his head is spiked up. That’s why I called him Hawk, like as in Mohawk.”
Tad looked again, but the soldiers had closed in on the puppy and he couldn’t see.