Gek stalked across roofs, wreathed in the darkness of the black night. Each step was silent, perfect, a practiced gait across time and weather-worn shingles. Moonlight slid across his shoulders but never caught his face. He paused at the edge of a rooftop, crouched low, his left eye bulging out of his face, creating a gnarly silhouette. His target was near. The Oracle rode below, his shock of white-blonde hair and his pale horse stark against the dark pavement. He leapt between buildings almost silently. His quarry’s senses were sharp, but even they couldn’t make out his blackened form against the backdrop of stars that hung the sky over Moss. His movements were precise and quiet, his scent clung to his skin, impossible for the wind to pick up. He was a chameleon.
Beneath him, Conrad rode his piebald mare, Franchesca. The rhythmic clop-clop of her hooves echoed in the empty streets, drowning out any noise his stalker might have made. Regardless, his mind was elsewhere, his acuity dulled by the apparent safety of town. He adjusted the scarlet blindfold over his eyes, and pressed onward towards town hall.
The three story brownstone wasn’t far now. Its dark green roof loomed over the edges of the town square, hidden behind a few final blocks. Candlelight flickered in its upper windows, where the Oracle’s quarry awaited him.
Gek slowed his pursuit as two guards approached the Oracle. Wrapped in homespun cloaks against the cold, the Engine siblings exchanged only a few words with Conrad before letting him pass, without challenge, free to carry on with his mysterious business. Gek wanted to know, no, needed to know why Conrad was here.
Their last meeting had ended with a promise: one he hadn’t forgotten. “You’re a dead man, Conrad. A dead man walking if I see your face again.”
Maybe that was why the Oracle returned under cover of darkness.
But he had made one miscalculation.
Nights in Moss belonged to Gek.
As the Oracle dismounted, Gek made his move. He descended like wraith from the rooftops, slinging himself between ledges and fire escapes before emerging from a crack between two buildings.
He emerged behind Conrad, arms poised to wrap around his waist in a deadly embrace–but the Oracle sensed him now. The rustle of his leather coat, the smell of smoke in his hair, but most of all, his lust for blood, it all burned too brightly to go unnoticed.
Conrad ducked beneath his outstretched arms, boots grinding into the earth outside the courthouse. In a silver flash, his revolver was free, the barrel slamming hard against Gek’s chest.
Gek loomed over Conrad, his long limbs exaggerating the gulf in size between them. But even his bulk, and his burning malice, recoiled slightly at the touch of cold steel pressing to his chest. He had never buttoned his shirts much, so the pistol slid against his hairy brown skin, and he froze, save the slow grin plastering his lips. His teeth, abnormally white for this time and place, flickered wickedly in the candlelight from above.
“So tell me, C, which is it, did ya think I was joking, or are you just that cocky? Cuz don’t think your little toy will fend me off forever, bitch. You either kill me now, or I keep coming back, and your gun might stop me once, or twice, or four, or five, or six times, but until you put a bullet through my heart or my skull, I’ll keep coming and coming and coming until you’re fucking dead.”
“I’m not here for you, and I won’t be here for long,” the Oracle intoned through grit teeth, his finger taut against the trigger. Gek was fast, he knew, and worse, tricky. He hadn’t even noticed the pale claw protruding from Gek’s sleeve, touching his pale stomach, joining with the Seed just beneath his mortal soul. Ideed, the devilish boy hung his head, so the Oracle didn’t see either as his right eye drew into his skull, its new milky white hue framed by blazing scarlet lashes. He didn’t know the Gek could see the future now as he could, and so he was caught off guard when the man found the perfect moment to push the gun from his chest, the split second Conrad’s guard faltered.
The deadly barrel of silvered steel no longer aimed at his heart, Gek’s strong, strong right hand, wreathed in scales, gripped Conrad’s wrist, holding him in place.
“What are you doing here, Conrad?” Gek was triumphant, his smile punctuated by a tongue curled between his teeth. In that moment, Conrad could have been convinced he was speaking to the Devil himself.
“I-I’m here for Del, OK? There’s, there’s this prophecy alright? Oracle stuff. So can you set our feud aside for just this little while? The fate of the World might be at stake Gek, and I know you’re crazy, but- but surely not even you’re so driven by malice towards me that it’s worth ending the World over, right?” The Oracle cursed himself, he hadn’t stammered since, well, his last encounter with Gek.
“What the hell does Del have to do with the fate of the World?” Gek asked, his wicked smile falling apart as he pulled the Oracle close, “This better not be like last time Conrad, you better not be here to take people away from this town on some grand quest they’re never gonna return from, not with her, not Del.”
“I think that’s up to Del,” the Oracle was thankful for the scarlet blindfold shielding his eyes, for they couldn’t meet Gek’s. His voice was hushed, spoken through grinding molars.
Gek’s grip softened, and he let the Oracle’s hand fall, “You can’t… she won’t, she wouldn’t leave Bently behind…” his voice started to raise as his face flushed with rage, “Can you even begin to understand what you’re asking of her?”
As Gek’s words echoed through the hollow streets of the town square, bouncing between abandoned buildings and cars at odd angles, the heavy green door of the new town hall opened, revealing Del, her hair silhouetted in light like a halo wrapped around her head. Bently stood by her side, the wobbly five year old clinging to his mama’s hand fearfully as Gek’s disfigured arm and eye were revealed in the light. Conrad’s Colt Python gleamed silver in the flicker of the lamp light.
Del’s hand rested on her hip as she glared at the pair. Bently looped his stubby fingers around her wrist. His face pointed towards hers, but his wet gray eyes strayed as he proclaimed, “Momma, he’s trying uh kill Gek!”
One twist of Del’s brow ordered Conrad to put the gun away. He sheathed it in one swift moment, straightening his bolo tie and clearing his throat to break the tension hanging taut in the air.
“Me and Gek were just playing,” Conrad assures the kid, climbing the steps to put a reassuring hand on the boy’s fluffy little head. Del stopped him, her grip iron tight on his wrist.
“He doesn’t like that,” She warned him, her own eyes, liquid brown, seemed to pierce straight through the Oracle’s blindfold, past his electric blue irises and straight into the depths of his depleted soul. She released his hand, and pivoted towards the door, gesturing for him to follow. Gek smiled and followed the pace as well.
Conrad turned sharply, and waggled his finger indignantly, “No, no, no, not you,” he declared, his head shaking out of sink with his pointer.
Del smiled at the Oracle, “Ah, he can come along, I see no harm in it. Saves me from telling him all about it afterwards,” and the Oracle knew better than to argue. His face crumpled and he climbed the stairs in silence. The three of them, and Bently, stepped into the Mayor’s office. He had generously agreed to lend it to Conrad for the evening. The room was lavish, for the times, rugs coating the hardwood floor, and a big oak desk hogging up space. Two leather scoop chairs provided seating for Del and her son. Conrad leaned against the desk, while Gek leered in the shadows of the built in shelves.
And so Conrad told them his story. His vision on the mountaintop, through the blessing of his third eye. He told them of the sword wreathed in invisible light, a repellent to the beasts that consumed the sky. And he told them of the person holding the sword, her hair a halo against the light, her face a stone against the oncoming tide of a Second Change, even a Third. It was Del’s face, holding that mighty blade into the air, every crevice outlined in painstaking detail by the sword’s light.
And so the Oracle had come here, his hometown. He had risked Gek wrath, because the future he had foreseen was so much worse than what that punk could inflict onto him.
The room settled into a stunned silence. Del watched her son as his legs swung in empty space, his gaze flickering between the three adults. Gek’s smoldering gaze never left the Oracle. His malice and rage was palpable, but he knew better than to speak while Del made up her mind.
Finally, she spoke, “Okay. Where’s this sword?”
Conrad straightened his bolo, rocking at the edge of the great oak desk, “I don’t know yet.”
Del nodded, and stood. She took Bently by the hand, and turned to leave the room, “Figure out where we’re going. I’m going to talk to Arlo. Gek, could you gather some supplies for me? Just my camping gear and some clothes, and don’t forget you’re there.”
Gek nodded, saying his goodbyes to Bently before sliding down the lacquered banister of the Hall, kicking the door open and plodding into the night. He flicked Franchesca’s forehead as he passed, earning a whinny of disapproval from the mare. He cackled, and set off for the furniture store where Del and Bently had nested in the apocalypse.
Del made to follow him down the steps, but before she made it down a stair, Conrad stopped her with a hand on her elbow.
“You know, I don’t like being touched without being asked either,” she warned, her dreadful tone giving the Oracle pause.
“I just wanted to talk- to talk about Gek,” the Oracle probed deeper, not heeding the warning signs in the neon venom dripping from her voice.
“If you’re going to make me go on this stupid fucking quest then I’m taking Gek, okay, that’s it, final say. We need the muscle. I’m no fighter, and frankly Conrad, I know you like waving that little toy around like it means something, but there are a lot of things in this world now that can take a bullet, alright? Gek knows how to fight, how to protect me and, Conrad, I’m not like you, OK? I can’t die… I will not leave him without a mother Conrad, I just can’t, alright? I wanna save the world as much as you. I wanna see the world be there, for him. And if I’m the only one who can do it, then so be it. But I’m bringing my best friend.”
“Muscle, we don’t need to worry about muscle I was going to bring Albatr–” Del cut him off with a look, jerking away from his touch and descending the steps.
“We can bring Al too,” she huffed, “he’s coming, and that’s that.”
Conrad mulled over her words in stunned silence. He nodded, following her down, mounting his horse, and setting out towards the barracks. He shouted over his shoulder, to meet at the West guard station, in about an hour, and get the message across to Gek.
He rode through the quiet city, keeping Franchesca slow and quiet, careful not to awaken the meager population of the town. Being here, where he had grown up, fundamentally changed by the end of days, was uncanny. Abandoned cars parked haphazardly across the cracked asphalt, windows with boards and bars across their faces, light slipping through the cracks where the odd survivor stayed awake late into the night. Still, signs of life remained. He passed the meadow behind the high school football field, bursting with crops thanks to the mayor’s powers. He saw a dustless soccer ball nearby, evidence that in these times, children could be just as resilient than the average adult, if not more so. The church was still open, and Conrad thought about stopping to say a prayer, to greet the preacher who’s light burned in the window of the parish. He couldn’t bring himself too, and so he passed on to the guard barracks, the old Motel 6. A fence had been erected around the encampment, and he rode up to the gate. The Bulldog awaited him.
“Are the Engine’s back from patrol?” Conrad asked, polite in the face of the Bulldog’s fittingly intimidating muzzle. The towering guard was built like a brick wall, and his expression mirrored one as the Oracle made his query.
“I dunno,” The Bulldog went back to his book, a riveting Magic Treehouse novel.
Conrad huffed, “Can I come through?”
“Why?” The Bulldog looked up suspiciously.
So this is Moss’ finest, the Oracle muses.
“I need to see the Engine siblings, or just Albatross, if she’s here. If you don’t know if they’re here, I’d like to come inside to look.”
“Oh no need, she’s here. Room 8,” The Bulldog informed him, before narrowing his eyes and diving back into the treasure trove that was Pirates Past Noon.
Conrad opened the gate for himself, tying Franchesca to the poles of it. He took a deep breath and scanned the room doors between barred off windows, until his eyes alit on room number 8. He knocked, and after a few moments of shuffling, Albatross answered, her tall, taut body seeming to fill the frame. Her hair was shorn short, hers eyes void of any notable expression, not even surprised that the Oracle was visiting her room. Wordlessly, she invited him in, and he sat down at the edge of the neatly made bed.
The room was spartan, moreso even than a normal hotel room. The stock art had been stripped from the walls, the TV and microwave tossed out. There wasn’t a stray piece of clothing in sight, not even the cloak she had been wearing when last they’d met earlier that night. A candle burned on the dresser, which Al had begun to rifle through, pulling out items. Neatly rolled clothes, a large knife, binoculars went one by one into her canvas bag.
Conrad wondered if she could see the future too.
“Where to?” Al asked, before he had the chance to start his spiel.
“What makes you assume we’re going somewhere?”
“Why else would you be here?” Albatross blinked at him twice, slowly.
“Well you’re right… I’ve had–”
“A vision. And you’re plumbing the guards for muscle again, I understand, it’s only natural that after you took the captain, and he never returned, that you’d take the next best next.”
“Pretty much, you got it in one. We need to take Del to–well, I don’t really know where we’re going yet. But I have some ideas on how we can find out. Our first stop out of here is just to the West of town, outside the barrier. My vision, it looked like it was to the West. I’ve spent most of my time to the East, around the domain of the Rooster King, and to the Northeast where the Prince holds court. The sheriff might know the big players of the West better than I, and if we’re lucky, we might get him to tag along. Kulshedra by our side…”
Albatross nodded, finished her packing, strapping a bat in a case to her hip, drawing her big brown guard cloak across her wide shoulders.
“Well the, to the West we shall go,” she offered him a hand up, which he accepted, and the two left the room behind, ‘I’ll need to tell Sam.”
Conrad stood outside number 7 as she broke the news to her brother. The door opened after a what felt like only a couple minutes, and the pair embraced, at Sam’s behest, before he handed her a bundle, wrapped in leather, and she gave him a solemn nod, slipping it into a pouch of her bag. Sam said goodbye once more to her, and once more to Conrad, and the Oracle and his guard headed back to his horse, off to the West gate of Moss, West Virginia.
LEUCOINDIGO 