Skeleton Crew (29 page)

Adan buzzed from the front door of the building and I ignored it. A few minutes later, he rang my doorbell, and then knocked a few times when I ignored that, too. He killed my wards, juiced the lock and came in. He was
wearing a scuffed, black leather jacket with a lot of zippers and buckles, faded jeans and black engineer boots. He took off his aviators and stood in the hallway, watching me.

“You're leaving,” I said, “with Jack.”

“I tried to tell you last night, but you didn't let me. I wanted to explain.”

I shrugged. “What's to explain? You're running away.”

He came in and sat down in the armchair across from me. “I'm running from all this,” he said, gesturing around the room with his sunglasses. I knew he didn't mean the room. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and stared at me. “I'm not running from you.”

“I'm here, aren't I? I'm part of all this. So you're running from me.”

“Come with me, Domino,” he said, and I heard the earnestness in his voice. “We'll hit the road, sleeping in motels and taking our juice where we can. We can be like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“And Jack,” I said. “Bonnie and Clyde and Jack.”

Adan smiled. “Yeah, and Jack. At least for a while.”

“Well, fuck you, Adan. There's a war here. You know I can't leave.”

“Why not, Domino? L.A.'s getting the front edge of the storm, but it'll be everywhere before long. And there aren't any sorcerers out there to protect people. No outfits. What happens when demons start showing up in Podunk, Iowa? What happens to those people?”

“They're not my problem.”

“We can
make
them our problem,” Adan said. “Just as easily as my father made Los Angeles our problem. It's
our
choice. No one owns us. We choose our responsibilities, Domino. I know you think you're the only one who can run this thing, but the outfits will get along without you.
My father is back. He can make Terrence captain. The city will survive. Out there, they've got nothing. No one.”

“So that's your plan? You're going to walk the earth? Do you see yourself more as Kane or Jules?”

Adan looked at me with that infuriating blank expression on his face.

“
Kung Fu? Pulp Fiction?
” He didn't know much about pop culture if he didn't know Kane or Jules.

He shook his head. “I don't have to walk, Domino. I've got my bike.”

I clenched my jaw and bit down on the anger rising into my face. “Why, Adan? Why can't you stay? What's so fucking bad about what we've got here?”

He shook his head. “It's not bad,” he said. “It's just not mine. I don't belong here, Domino. Maybe it would have been different if I'd grown up here. I don't know. But I didn't. Oberon took me and it turns out he can't just give me back. I don't know if I can explain this. I don't fit, Domino, or the world doesn't fit me. It's like walking around with my shoes on the wrong foot. And I have to fix it, I have to find my place in this world, or it's going to drive me mad.” He stopped and shook his head. “Please, try to understand.”

“I understand. You're in Japan, and you're fucking clueless. If there's nothing keeping you here, then go.”

“I tried to make a list last night,” he said. “Two columns. On one side, reasons to go. On the other side, reasons to stay. It wasn't a very good list, because I could only think of one reason to stay.”

“That reason obviously wasn't enough to outweigh your bike, and the open road, and Jack, and some fucking motel in Podunk, Iowa.”

“It almost
is
enough. Even though everything else is all wrong, it's almost enough. But I know if I stay here, I'll lose
you, too. Every day in this city, I feel like I'm fading. I'm that little kid again in the woods and I'm
completely
alone.

I'm a ghost.”

“You're not alone,” I said. “I'm here. I can't see the future, Adan, and grown-ups don't get guarantees, but we're good together. There might be something for us if we try. Like Oberon and Titania. You said it yourself, they've got it. And they still manage to rule a kingdom together.”

“You don't understand them. Both of them would watch the world burn—starting with the Seelie Court—if they were forced to choose. But you? The outfit, the war…the people you think you have to protect will always come first.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Adan nodded and his eyes locked on mine. I saw something there, but I couldn't tell if it was hope or desperation.

“Because if I'm wrong, you'll come with me. You'll walk away, Domino. You'll choose us, or a chance for us, what ever it might be.”

I was quiet for a long time. His little trap made me want to tear his heart out and shove it down his throat. But I was still in the trap, fair and square. He wouldn't stay unless I could put him—put
us
—in front of the outfit. If I wasn't ready to do that, I was no different from the sidhe who sat on their horses and watched him fight alone. And if I
was
willing to do that, I'd be willing to go with him. It was really as simple as that.

“You're not wrong, Adan,” I said. “I won't watch the world burn for you.”

“I know. You're not Oberon or Titania. You're better than them.”

“I'm sorry.”

He nodded. “It would have been great, though, wouldn't it? Just you and me and the road.”

“Yeah, it would have been great,” I said. “Even with Jack as a third wheel.”

Adan gave a little laugh. “We could have ditched him.”

He stood and started toward me, but I shook my head. “Just go,” I said.

Adan went to the door and paused, turning back to look at me. “Maybe in another life,” he said. Then he walked out and closed the door behind him. I knew it was the last time I would ever see him.

 

My eyes snapped open and I heard the fading chant of three voices in my head.

The Panhead rumbled to a halt on the street outside and I went to sit on the couch. I knew what I'd seen was real. It was the future, and it was about to happen. Hecate had shown it to me. I wasn't sure what all the fucking poetry meant, but Hecate obviously didn't want it to happen. I didn't, either.

I waited until Adan let himself in. The jacket, the jeans, the boots, the sunglasses—everything was exactly the same. Déjà vu crashed over me and I felt light-headed. I stood up and looked at him, steadying myself with one hand on the back of the couch. He pulled off the aviators and returned my stare.

“You're fired,” I said.

His jaw dropped open and he just looked at me for a moment. “What?” he said finally.

“As wartime captain, I've determined that your relationship with the sidhe makes you vulnerable. Your presence makes the outfit vulnerable. So you're out, as of right now.”

Adan shook his head and looked down at his boots before raising his eyes to mine once again. “What about my father?”

“I'll tell him how it is. If it's related to the war effort, my word is law. He might bitch and moan about it, but I think that's a personality trait that runs in the family.”

Adan shook his head again and laughed. Then his smile faded and he fixed those huge, dark eyes on me. “Thank you, Domino,” he said.

“You're out of the outfit, but you're not off the hook,” I said. “It's occurred to me that I need eyes and ears beyond the city limits. I need some intelligence—I need to know what's going on out there. You and Jack get the job. Maybe you'll run across other outfits in other towns from time to time. You'll make contact with them on our behalf. And when I find myself up to my chin in zombies, demons or whatever the hell's coming next, you'll bust ass back here and lend a hand.”

“I will always come, Domino. Just as Jack will always return to Honey when she is in need.”

“Good. Then get the hell out of here, I've got work to do.”

I turned away, but Adan stepped up behind me and pulled me into his arms. He turned me around to face him and lifted my face to his, and then he kissed me like a warrior-poet on the eve of battle.

I went out onto the balcony to watch him leave. When I
opened the French doors, the scent of apples and cinnamon was picked up on the breeze and carried from my home.

Adan swung onto the Panhead and Jack dropped down onto the gas cap. I smiled at the piskie and touched my heart. He grinned and blew me a kiss.

Adan pulled out the kick-starter and rested his foot on it.

Then he turned and looked up at me. “Anton invited me to the Mocambo club,” he said. “I can travel fast through the Between. Maybe we could get a drink sometime?”

“What are you talking about?” I said. “Anton's dead.”

“Yeah, but he came to me this morning just before dawn.

He said there are a lot of ghosts looking for someone to lead them. He said to tell you it's the kind of place where any man can be a boss.”

“And he took over the club?”

“That's what he said. And you should see him, Domino.

I guess his ghost never discovered junk food. He's lean and mean. He's going to run this town on the other side.

I should warn you, though, he put Abe Warren on the payroll.”

“I'll be damned.”

“So what about that drink?”

“I'd like that,” I said. “You've got my number.”

Adan nodded, grinned and started the bike. He gunned the throttle to wake up the old engine and then waved at me. He held my gaze for a long time. Finally, he slipped the aviators over his eyes, put the bike in gear and rode away without looking back.

Maybe Honey was right and men were better in the wild.

Maybe we all needed to wander, to find our own place, and maybe our paths through life would diverge for a time. But
those separate paths could bend back toward each other, too.
X
marks the spot.

There's a kind of magic in that.

Summer in Minneapolis is a magical time—it's warm, sweet, green and far too short. This year, I spent nearly all of it in my office, sitting at my desk in front of an open window, writing
Skeleton Crew.
This was great for me—the book was tremendously fun to write and I'm so fortunate to have had the opportunity. Writing isn't a spectator sport, though, and it wasn't so great for my wife. And so, Mashenka, thank you for giving me this summer, with constant support and without a word of complaint. This is your book, too.