The Black (21 page)

As we walked closer to the building, a garage door began to rise directly in front of us. Whoever these guys were, they didn't want to wipe us out right away. Then again, maybe they wanted to do it in private. Which made me think:
Where is everybody?
Looking around, I realized that for a city neighborhood, it was strangely deserted. It made me wonder whose vision of the Black this really was. It definitely wasn't that of a soldier from ancient Macedonia.

I expected to see a Watcher or two observing the show, but there wasn't a single one around.

"I don't want to go in there," Maggie whimpered. She was shaking with fear.

Every step brought us closer to the dark opening that led to an ominous-looking cave. If not for the swords, I may have taken a chance and jumped one of the riders, but I wanted to be around to fight another day.

"I'll get us out of this, I swear," I whispered to Maggie as we stepped through the dark portal.

What we found was a big garage that stretched up a few stories. Parked along one side were a dozen more bikes like the ones that were pushing us inside. I wondered if this was actually some bizarre biker gang and we'd stumbled onto their turf. The roar from the four bikes grew deafening.
The throaty engine noise bounced every which way inside the large space. We were pushed to the center of the room, where the four bikers surrounded us again and, thankfully,
killed their engines. It was like we had been inside a jet engine that suddenly became a library.

Maggie and I stood still, waiting for one of them to make a move. The guy with the cape swung his leg over his bike and strode toward us. He had long, curly black hair that framed the creepy mask. The others stayed on their bikes, watching silently. The cape guy stopped in front of us. He had left his sword back in the saddlebag of his bike. If things went south, I was ready to dive for the weapon and start swinging.

I couldn't take the silence anymore so I asked, "You guys in the circus?"

"Who are you?" the guy asked with a deep voice that was muffled by his mask. The mask may have been smiling, but he didn't sound happy.

"My name's Cooper Foley. This is Maggie, uh…"

"Salinger," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Salinger," I repeated. "Maggie Salinger. Who are you?"

I heard the squeal of a motor and turned to see the garage door slowly lowering. Maggie squeezed my hand. As ominous as that was, it wasn't the worst development. More people were arriving. They walked in slowly from other parts of the building, silently gathering to view the newcomers. Some arrived on small BMX-style bicycles but most were on foot. They moved in silently like they were filing into church. Each wore an odd costume. A few had old-time soldier
uniforms. Some I recognized as being from the United States. Others I didn't know. I saw a Union soldier and a sailor. The rest meant nothing to me, though they all looked as if they came from different eras. The guys on bikes wore army fatigues. A few women wore floor-length gowns with big skirts and wigs, as if they were headed for an old-time ball. I saw a guy in a white lab coat, a frail man in a wheelchair wearing a judge's robe, a Viking-looking
dude wearing animals skins, and another guy wearing a tuxedo. As bizarre as the scene was, it was made more so by the fact that everybody wore similar clown masks like they were all headed for Mardi Gras.

I didn't see how these freaks could be Damon's enemies because nobody looked as if they had come from ancient Macedonia. Still, if these were the guys Damon wanted to take his revenge on, they had to be dangerous. Maybe more so than Damon. At least I knew what Damon was all about: ancient warrior, pissed off about being killed, wanted revenge. Got it. These guys were a whole different ball game.

The people formed a circle beyond the ring of motorcycles. We were the center of attention at a masked ball from hell.

Maggie whispered, "I think I'm going out of my mind."

The guy with the black cape said, "I will ask again, who are you?"

"I told you," I said. "Cooper Foley and—"

"Why are you here?"

Good question. I wished I had a good answer. It didn't seem wise to tell the truth so I did the next best thing.

"I don't know," I said, trying to sound like a confused kid. "Maggie and I were moving from her vision to mine and we somehow ended up here. Where are we? Whose vision is this?"

I looked from the guy in black to the others who surrounded us, hoping to see a sympathetic face. I don't know why I bothered. All their faces were covered in clown masks as they stared at us in silence.

The guy in black stepped away, headed for his motorcycle. With one quick move he pulled his sword from its sheath.

"Whoa!" I said nervously. "Let's not go there. We came
by mistake. No harm, no foul. We'll just leave and pretend
this never happened."

The guy stalked forward, holding the sword's point
toward me.

"You say you are here by accident," he said. "Yet you
know what this weapon is capable of, which makes me believe your being here was no mistake."

Oops.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying
to sound all innocent and confused. "You're coming at us
with a sword. Why wouldn't I be scared?"

"Because you are already a spirit," he answered.

Oh. Right. That.

"Look," I said, thinking fast. "I don't know who you are
or where we are but what exactly do you think we can do to you? There's only two of us and you've got a whole bunch of, well, I don't know
what
the hell you guys are but there are a lot of you. You don't have anything to be afraid of."

"That is the first truth you have told," he said. "We do
not fear you."

I was relieved by his comment, until he lifted his sword.

We were seconds away from being cinder.

"Cooper!" Maggie cried, and held her hands up to cover
her head.

I didn't bother. I knew it wouldn't do any good. But I
did close my eyes, waiting for the worst . . .

That didn't come.

I cautiously opened my eyes to see that someone had
stopped the guy from killing us. The sword was still held high but another guy had arrived and was holding the big
guy's arm from striking.

"Put it down!" the new guy said, barely above a whisper.

The big guy lowered the sword, though he wasn't happy about it.

At first I thought our savior was a woman because he was slighter and much shorter than the clown with the sword, and had long, curly brown hair. But the voice could have gone either way and he was dressed like a dude in jeans, a khaki shirt, and a dark jacket. He wore leather gloves too, and his face was hidden behind one of those creepy masks. So I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, and frankly, I didn't care. The guy moved with confidence and authority, which made me think that he was in charge.

"There's no need for that," he said in the same low whisper to the guy with the sword.

The big clown backed off but it was killing him. He really wanted to whack us.

"Thank you," the new guy whispered.

Why was he whispering? Maybe it was his way of showing authority. I knew some teachers like that. The louder things got in class, the softer they'd talk. It made us all strain to hear, and kept the power with him.

Or maybe this guy just had a sore throat.

He turned away from the clown and looked me over as if sizing me up.

I took a chance and said, "C'mon, chief. Do we really look like a threat?"

"Your very presence is a threat," he whispered.

I didn't know what that meant so it was hard to argue, but I had to try. If there was one thing I was good at it was talking my way out of Trouble Town.

"The second we landed here we tried to leave but we couldn't. Why is that? Why can't we move back to our own
visions?"

The guy didn't answer. He stepped closer and grabbed my chin, moving my head back and forth slightly like he wanted to analyze my features. He wasn't rough about it,
but that didn't make it any less strange. He didn't do it to Maggie, either. Just me.

"What's with the masks?" I asked.

"It would be better if you didn't speak," was his quick answer.

"Sure. Whatever you say. You want quiet? I'll be quiet."

"Stop," he commanded. "You will go outside and walk west until you are able to leave this vision. Do not return here. Either of you. Ever. Your coming here was a mistake and I know you aren't foolish enough to make the
same mistake twice. That would be tragic. Do you understand?"

"Absolutely. We're gone," I said and held up a double okay sign. I did it out of habit. It's what I did when I wanted to let somebody know that everything was cool.

His reaction surprised me. He chuckled. Why was that funny?

He looked to Maggie and said, "Do you understand?"

Maggie nodded quickly. As much as this guy seemed to be the leader of this twisted gang, I wasn't afraid of him. And not just because he was letting us go. He had definitely threatened us, but I didn't believe for a second that he would order our destruction. Then again, if it had been up to the guy with the sword, Maggie and I would be no more.

The sword guy looked to the boss and said, "I fear we will regret this."

"Go," the boss-man commanded, ignoring the biker.

"You got it. Thanks."

"Thank you," Maggie said.

The crowd of costumed freaks parted to reveal a door on the far side of the garage. I took Maggie's hand and walked quickly for it.

"What just happened?" she whispered.

"Let's get out of here first."

We stepped out of the door to find ourselves on the same street where we had first arrived.

"Which way is west?" I asked her.

"I don't know. Let's just go that way," she said,
pointing
down the street.

It was as good a guess as any. Still holding hands we walked quickly away from the garage.

"They're following us," Maggie whispered.

I glanced back to see that the menagerie of people had
followed us through the door and were gathered in the street,
slowly trailing behind. Even the guys on their bicycles were there, riding with the walkers.             

"I guess they want to make sure we leave," I said.

"But we can't move between visions," Maggie said.

"That guy seemed to think we'd be able to once we
get
far enough away."

We walked for a few blocks, passing street after empty street. There were no cars, no people, no sign of life anywhere. It was as if the entire city was deserted.

"Look!" Maggie exclaimed, pointing ahead.

Two blocks ahead of us a swirling wall appeared. Dark shadows—some small, some immense—drifted like whales
in the vast sea of color. The impossible boundary stretched
into the sky and continued off to either side of us for as far as I could see.

"What is it?" Maggie asked.

"Maybe it's the end of the vision."

Standing on a street corner, a few feet in front of the colorful wall, was a Watcher.

"I never thought I'd be happy to see one of those guys," I said.

"What do we do?" Maggie asked.

"Keep walking."

When we got to within twenty yards of the Watcher,
the group of oddballs who had been
following us stopped. They stood shoulder to shoulder, spread across the width of the street, frozen in place.

"They're not taking any chances," Maggie said.

I took Maggie's hand and walked the last few feet until we reached the swirling wall. The Watcher didn't move, but kept his eyes on us. I reached out to the wall to see if it was solid. My hand passed through.

"Ready?" I asked.

Maggie nodded. We stepped into the wall . . . and walked through into my front yard in the Black.

"Well," I said. "That was interesting."

"I don't ever want to go back there," Maggie said. "You don't have to. But I do."

Maggie's eyes widened and she was about to argue, but her words were cut off by the loud roar of motorcycle engines.

"No way," I said with a gasp.

A motorcycle appeared on the street and turned onto the walkway that led to my house. Maggie and I both tried to
run but were turned back by the clown with the cape who was riding up from behind my house, digging up the grass. Along with the warrior. And the guy in the business suit.

All four motorcycle clowns had followed us into my vision.

16

The guy in black leaped off his bike, grabbed his sword, and strode for us, ready to fight.