Tourist - 16



We walked slowly, as the crow flies, for three hours. We took turns filling in our weary General on accounts of the past days. Darren had no recollection of speaking to me in the hallway outside his chambers in Lee’s city. He didn’t remember the last days at Karl’s plane. But things were starting to come back, other events that Karl had purposely erased from his memory.

The bodies in the pipes, for instance.

He took all these realizations as any great leader would, and as I knew I never could. He nodded solemnly as we regaled him with stories of the past weeks, explaining.

Darren told us he believed it was Karl who told the city government of our plans to revolt. Karl who helped them smoke us out. Karl who aided in the wholesale slaughter of thousands upon thousands of artists, writers, and musicians. We had been running with the enemy. But this realization only spurred us on to move faster, for there were still pursuers behind us somewhere, and Darren would prefer to fight within the city walls than without it.

By Lee’s estimation, the pounding started with 45 minutes until sunset.

It started as a small vibration in the earth, sending tiny cascades of sand rolling down the dunes. But the sand was leveling out here. Stone was becoming more common. The vibrations could have been coming from the city. Until they started getting louder.

Ben watched the direction of our retreat, staring into the setting sun with squinting eyes. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t know what.

The trembling grew to a steady quake, one that worked its way up my thick boots. I frowned at Lee. He dropped easily to the ground and pressed one ear to the stone, frowning. He gazed back up at Darren and straightened up, and he and Ben spoke in unison.

“Horses.”

We all turned and stared toward the sunset. Our shadows stretched toward the city walls we were trying to reach. They were yards away. And, again in unison, we all began to sprint toward the city. Lee scrambled for purchase on the sandy rock.

The horses were louder now, and we could hear yelling with them. Darren wasted no breath trying to explain who they were; we all knew. These were the men we had been running from since we had left the city. This was the government who had run us out of the sewers, our life not even worth the rats that were our neighbors. These were the people who left no survivors. I could feel my legs burn as we sped towards the great towering walls.

But still the horses, and their deadly riders, gained.

Ben and I stampeded behind Darren and Lee, and I watched out of the corner of my eye as Ben spared a glance backward, and the brief setting of his jaw was enough to know that the riders were too close for comfort. And then they were close enough to hear their commands, and we were still too far from the walls.

“Grab them all! Kill them!”

“Skin them alive!”

“Kill them!”

“Save the leader, keep him alive for questioning.”

“Kill them!”

“Put them in stocks, we’ll bring them back to the city.”

“KILL THEM!”

I shut my eyes and ran, listening to nothing but the pop of my lungs and the quick stamping around me, but not quick enough. We weren’t going to reach the giant gates in time. I could run forever, and we were never going to make it to the city. I would always be stuck out on this desert, running from these horses.

And then the horses were around us, breathing smoke and sweating froth, bucking under their riders commands. Ben and Lee dropped to the ground, and I was screeched to a halt and herded away from the group. Darren ran on alone for another five, ten, fifteen paces before the horses were upon him. There was screaming, there was stamping, there was hell after running so hard, so far, so fast.

Now I was going to find my end not in the sewers, not from the hands of evil magicians or sacrificing women. I was never going to know what happened to Ben, or Darren’s destination for us. The secret peaceful world we had searched out was five feet away. I held up an arm to vainly hold off the attackers, the rearing hooves...

“HALT.”

I opened my eyes without realizing they had been closed.

“What do you mean, halt?” demanded one of the riders. “These are our prisoners.”

“Kill them!” screamed one of the riders from the back, but the first speaker held up a hand to silence him.

“I mean, halt,” came the voice. I lowered my arm, peering up. The setting sun glinted off of the darkened face of the man who was speaking. He stood at the top of the wall, and as I studied the rest of the barrier, I saw it was dotted with archers, bows strung and ready to annihilate the riders and their horses without qualm.

“What business have you with these refugees?” The man demanded.

“These ‘refugees’ are prisoners of war in our city.” The rider grew impatient, and his horse snorted.

“Your city has no war,” the man on the wall replied. “And if you do not release these people, my men will make you release them.”

Darren had come to my side and was hefting me to my feet. We clustered with Ben and Lee, standing derisively in front of the leader of the riders. I put what I hoped was a determined look on my face. Ben grimaced in exhaustion. Lee had paled totally and was now turning a dim pink. He had spent too much time in the sun.

The leader regarded us with cold eyes, examining the filth he saw before him. It pained him to say it, I could tell, but he ordered his men to stand down. The great gates behind us swung open and Darren immediately entered. Lee came slowly after. Ben lingered slightly, pulling on my shoulder. I stared into the eyes of our potential captor for one moment more, however, examining him.

This man was exactly who I used to be. His expression was curious, wondering at my intent gaze. I made sure I had his eye contact before I spit at the ground before him. And then I turned, and under Ben’s arm, walked into the city. The gates slammed home behind us before the rider could shout his indignance. The man from the wall was shaking hands with Darren, and he turned to us. “Daniel Jones and Benjamin Carey. A pleasure to meet you at last. We’ve heard much talk, and we’ve been expecting you. You’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need, to live here if you wish.” I was nodding slowly, and Ben was grinning. “How do you know us?” he asked them. “It seems we’ve become a bit of a legend,” Darren piped up from behind the man. He stepped back and gestured to the city behind him. There were thousands of men and women standing there, staring and clapping and shouting. “Any way we can add to our population is a good thing,” the man said. “We’ll take any artist. Any at all.” He turned to Lee, slowly, and the soft smile on his face slipped off. “You, however...what are you, son?” He took in the man’s pale skin. Lee stood rigid, but did not appear upset in any other way. I frowned, brushing my hair out of my face. “If Lee can’t stay, none of us are staying.” I looked at Darren for confirmation, and he was nodding. Ben squeezed my shoulder.

The pale man, however, simply waved us away. “That won’t be necessary, gentlemen.” And with that, he parted his robes and pulled a satchel off his hip. “I think this will be adequate enough to permit my entry into the city,” he eyed the man, “I should hope.”

He opened the satchel, and pulled out the green Stratocaster we had salvaged from the dump. Lee met my eyes and flickered a mischievous smile. I had forgotten entirely about the guitar.

“Certainly!” said the man, pulling the instrument out of his hand. “And this is a fine piece of equipment, as well.”

“I know,” Lee said. “That’s why I kept it.”

“Well, in that case, welcome to our city,” the man said, gesturing toward the rolling hills that were the backdrop for the town. “Welcome to Hollywood!”

~*~*~*~

I awoke a day later, feeling significantly rested and better for the efforts. Ben, who shared my room, if not my bed, was gone. I sat and watched the fake sun stream in the window, letting its warmth ease my sore muscles, burned skin, and healing cuts. I couldn’t believe that this was our final destination. Hollywood, the entertainment Mecca of the world. The land of movies, television, and music. Any artist’s dream was to be discovered in Hollywood. It only made sense now that it was the one remaining hub of industry.

It made sense to me, anyway. The “HOLLYWOOD” letters still stood on the hillside they had shined from 300 years prior. They had been recast in granite five times, granted, according to the town’s history logs, but it was the same Hollywood to me.

Ben poked his head in the door and smiled. “Knock knock?” he asked, and came in. I smiled and shoved myself out of the bed. “Good morning,” he said, throwing himself down on the foot of my mattress.

“What are you so happy about?” I groused, palming sleep from my eyes.

“Darren,” he grinned. “Has some good news.”

“Oh?” I asked, alert now.

The blonde sat straight up and looked at me with a more serious expression. “The Siri disappeared, Daniel.”

I nodded.

“Darren has released me from service,” he said quietly. “I’m a free man.”

I blinked. He smiled at me, one side of his mouth quirking up. A free man. I felt myself smiling then, too, my face curving into a Cheshire grin, and laughing. He laughed back, surprised at my reaction.

“That’s...” I tried, shaking my head and laughing again. “Wow.”

“Wow?” he asked. “That’s not quite the reaction I was looking for.”

I leaned my head in my hand and studied him. “How does it feel?”

He leaned forward too. “It feels great.”

“Totally free?” I asked him.

“Totally, one hundred percent, without a doubt, my entire bloodline,” Ben clarified.

“So that means..?” I asked.

He kissed me softly, his soft mouth finding purchase on my bruised lips. But this was not the same as before, not the desperate kiss of heading into battle or the frenzied, secret passion only hinted at. This was sweet, delicate, and, above all things, long. I could feel his hand curl in the hair at the back of my head, anchoring me in place gently, and I randomly gripped his shirt, pulling us closer together.

Letting me go was not in the agenda that day. He broke the kiss slightly and grinned at me again. “Have you slept enough?”

“I have slept far too long,” I told him, “and if you ask me, I will never sleep again.”

“Careful,” he chuckled. “You don’t know me that well.”

“No,” I reasoned. “But I have all the time in the world to find out.”



FIN