The Black (8 page)

He said, "You observed, correctly, that I have existed in the Black for quite some time. There is a reason."

"Can't imagine what that might be," I said. "You seem like such a great guy."

Damon gave me a nasty look. I decided not to jab him anymore.

"Unlike most other souls who simply pass through, I am trapped. A victim of those I once trusted."

He glanced up to the fountain and the giant statue of the stone warrior.

"Friend of yours?" I asked.

"No," he said coldly. "This is the vision of where I was betrayed in the Light, along with several of my loyal soldiers who chose to die rather than abandon
me. We are all trapped here in the Black, unable to move further along the road."

"Okay. Why?"

"Our path is blocked. But now, finally, I have found the means to remove the obstruction."

"Good for you," I said. "How are you going to do that?"

"I'm not," Damon said with a smirk. "You are."

"Uh…
what?" I muttered.

Damon stepped aside to reveal a swirling cloud of color like the one Gramps brought me through when we were on the Ave. Or my vision of the Ave. Or whatever it was. He gestured for me to enter.

"No, thanks," I said. "I'll hang here with the statue."

"To understand you must observe."

"Observe what?"

His answer was to gesture to the cloud again.

It didn't seem like I had a choice. Not if I wanted to understand what was happening. So like I did with Gramps, I took a breath and stepped into the swirl.

It wasn't the same experience as before. No sooner did I lean into the cloud than the world changed. I was no longer standing on the sandy soil of the ancient square but had been transported to another place. Another time. It was totally disorienting because the surroundings were so different from where I'd been…
yet at the same time it was all very familiar.

I was standing in the living room of my best friend, Marshall Seaver.

Damon stood next to me. Seeing this ancient character in Marshall's living room was like a surreal dream. I glanced around to see nothing but a lot of
normal—right down to a TV show about sharks on Marsh's wide-screen.

"It's my vision of the Black," I declared. "So what?"

"It is not your vision," he replied. "We have entered the Light."

"We're here?" I asked, astonished, looking around. "We're really here? I mean, this is all…
real?"

Damon yawned.

It didn't seem right. According to Gramps we could only observe the Light, not hang out there. I took a few tentative steps and saw something that proved Damon was telling the truth.

Lying on the couch, asleep, was Marsh.

"Hey, Ralph!" I leaned on the back of the couch but my hands passed right through as if it was a projection.

"Whoa!" I declared, and jumped back.

I looked to Damon, who shrugged, bored.

I swept my hand through the couch, testing to see if it was really there. It wasn't. Or I wasn't. It took a few seconds for me to understand: The couch was solid…
I wasn't. I was a spirit in the Light. It wasn't the same as when I watched Marsh break that golden ball. This time I was actually in Marsh's living room. His
real
living room.

"Ralph!" I called out again. "Hey, Ralph! Wake up!"

"He cannot hear you," Damon stated flatly.

I wanted to scream in frustration. I may have been there in the same room with Marsh, but I was a ghost. A
freakin' ghost. I wandered around to try and understand what it meant to be a spirit in the Light. I reached down to grab the remote from the coffee table and my hand traveled through it.

"Damn," I said with dismay.

"Did you not believe me?" Damon asked.

"Give me a break. This is all new to me. Why don't we just, like, fall through the floor?"

"You could," he responded. "Would you like to?"

"No, I'll pass on that." I turned to watch Marsh sleeping.

He had no idea that there were two invisible spirits keeping him company.

"Wait," I said, turning to Damon. "You said you were trapped in the Black."

"I am prevented from moving further along the road. However, I am quite capable of visiting the Light in spirit form."

"So, then, what's the point?"

Damon walked toward the couch. "You need to understand that I am not an ordinary spirit. As you have astutely pointed out, I have been in the Black for quite some time. Longer than any other since the dawn of man."

"Do you get a prize for that?"

"You meant that as a sarcastic comment, but there is some truth to it. I have used my time wisely and developed certain…
skills. I know more about the ways of the road than any other entity.

He knelt down next to Marsh. I would have pulled him away if I thought he might try and take a bite out of him, but I knew that was impossible. We were spirits. We had no effect on the living.

Damon leaned in close to Marsh and whispered,
"Morpheus."

Marsh's eyes sprang open.

He had heard Damon. What I thought was impossible, wasn't.

"Get away from him!" I shouted, and rushed forward to protect my friend.

Damon stood up and I tackled him. Hard. The two of us stumbled into the swirling fog and found ourselves back at the fountain. Things were solid again. We were back in the Black. I jumped to my feet and squared off against the guy.

"How did you do that?" I demanded.

Damon laughed. "That is the least of my skills."
"What do you want from me?"

"I seek a weapon. A particular weapon. A poleax. It was mine in life and I want it returned."

"So what? What's that got to do with me?"

"The poleax remained in the Light when I was banished to the Black. Now, after so many centuries, it is finally within my grasp. I need your friend to find it and return it
to me."

"Marsh? Why Marsh?"

"Because he alone has the ability to locate it."

"No way. He doesn't know about any ancient weapon."

"He knows more than you realize. He will find the poleax…
and you will help him."

"Uhhh, no. I won't."

"Yes, you will. You both will, or I will return to the Light. A small whisper in the ear of a sleeping boy does not come close to demonstrating the extent of my abilities. Your presence here is proof of that."

I was getting too much information, too fast, and none of it was making sense.

"My presence? What does that mean?"

Damon stalked toward me. I wanted to hold my ground but the little guy scared the hell out of me and I had to back away.

"The lake was beautiful that night, was it not? So peaceful with a sky full of shimmering stars and a lake teaming
with dozens of stargazers. It all seemed so inviting. So safe. But what happened to the other boaters? How could they have disappeared so quickly…
unless they were never there?"

"W-what? What does that mean?"

"I have observed the Light for centuries. I have seen every behavior known to mankind and learned how it evolved. From strength to cowardice. Brilliance to treachery.

I can reach into the depths of a man's soul to draw out his greatest fear or grandest desire, and make it appear before him. It is quite simple, really. A play of light, the bending of a shadow, and the illusions appear real. This is what I have achieved in the time I have spent here."

"That's…
that's not right. Spirits aren't supposed to monkey with the living."

"And what would be my punishment? Eternal captivity? That has already been my fate for too long."

"I don't believe you."

"No? Why was that young boy in the speedboat traveling so quickly the night of your death? It was so foolish. Unless there was something that compelled him to act recklessly. Perhaps he was drawn into a race with another boat? A boat that was not actually there."

My head was spinning. "What are you saying?"

"You are here in the Black because of me, Cooper Foley."

"Wh…
No. It was an accident."

"An accident that I caused. I created the illusions that led to your death."

"But…
why?"

"I brought you here to help release me from captivity." He kept stalking me and I kept backing off.

"This is…
this is crazy. I'm not going to help you."

"Even though I have the power to end your existence?"

"What are you going to do? Stab me with that black
sword?"

"Perhaps. Or I could raise the stakes even higher."

"Higher than ending my existence?"

"That depends on what value you put on the life of your friend, Marshall Seaver."

I stopped moving. That was it. There was the threat. If I didn't help Damon, he was going to kill Marsh. Like he had killed me. That wasn't going to fly. I was ready to take this
guy apart, and I would have if I hadn't caught movement
to my right. I thought it might be one of his pals coming to jump me, and I spun toward the ancient building.

Three people in black were on the steps, watching us. They stood shoulder to shoulder, all looking like normal people except that they were totally out of place in that ancient square.

And they didn't look happy.

I didn't care.

I spun back to Damon, ready to take him out.

Damon's eyes flared as he
bared
his teeth and hissed like an animal about to be attacked. I wanted to knock those pointed teeth out of his head, but as I
moved on him, I felt a hand on my shoulder. An instant later I was yanked backward, hard, off my feet into another swirling mass of color and fog.

7

I hit the ground and bounced right back to my feet, ready to take on whoever it was that had grabbed me from behind and yanked me into another dimension. I expected it to be one of Damon's soldiers, but when I looked around, I saw that I was alone.

It took a few seconds for me to calm down and register my surroundings. I was standing next to a split rail fence. On the other side of the fence was a long stretch of patchy brown grass that led to my grandfather's house. Yes! I was back at Gramps' place!

But I wasn't. The yard didn't look the same as when I'd been there before. The colorful fall leaves were gone. The trees were bare gray skeletons that swayed in a frosty breeze, and the sky was a dark, cloudy ceiling that threatened to drop snow. It was like I had skipped through fall and landed in late November.

"Gramps!" I called out. My shout echoed across the
empty property.

It was definitely Gramps' house but instead of gleaming bright white, it looked kind of puke yellow. I couldn't tell if it was because there was no sun or Gramps had somehow painted it since I'd been there last, which wasn't likely. I doubted that spirits bothered with home improvement projects.

I saw somebody dart from behind a tree and run behind Gramps' house. It was only a quick glimpse, but I could have sworn it was a little kid.

"Hey! Wait!" I screamed.

I was about to vault over the fence and go after the kid, when I heard the slam of a screen door. Not from Gramps' house, from the house next door. I turned to see that I was much closer to the next-door neighbor's house than I was to Gramps' place. I figured that whoever it was that had yanked me out of Damon's vision had gone inside, so I ran to the bottom of the porch stairs.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Who's in there?"

It didn't make sense that Damon and his centuries-old Macedonian soldiers would suddenly be holed up in a Connecticut farmhouse, though I wished they were. I was fired up and wanted a piece of somebody.

"Who are you?" I called. "Why did you bring me here?"

I saw movement through the window. Somebody was watching me from inside. I walked closer, expecting to see one of those strange people in black who were always lurking around.

Instead, I saw the face of a young girl.

"I see you!" I shouted. "Come out here!"

The girl crouched down, thinking she couldn't be seen. "Either you come out or I'm coming in."

She left the window and appeared a few seconds later
inside the screen door. It was the
same girl who was watching us when Gramps first brought me to his house. She wasn't a threat, or so I hoped.

"Somebody pulled me into this vision," I called. "Was it my grandfather?"

The girl didn't respond.

"Or that kid next door. Do you know who that is?"

She stared at me, blank, as if she didn't know who I was talking about. Or
what
I was talking about. Did she even know English?