Dream Drive Ch. 10

"Back off," Chaki said.

"The truth always stings," Rachel said.

"Shut up!"

Rachel heard movement. She looked just in time to weave under a thrust aimed at her head, but she wasn't quick enough to escape the one aimed at her chest. The weapon sliced a line across her clothes, taking a good chunk of her health before she could move back.

Chaki had her own problems; a hack from another halberdier had gone right through her shoulder. Normally, it would have taken her arm off, but she escaped with a loss of health points and a status effect. Her right hand flapped at her side, numb and useless.

They both retreated. Rachel glanced at her health. The nicks and scratches had added up. She was close to dropping into the red zone, and then she'd be about as agile as a sack of potatoes. Chaki couldn't be doing much better.

"Now will you get out of the way?" Rachel asked.

"Enough!" Chaki said. "I stripped you of your collar, and you turn about and start working against me as soon as you find reason to dislike me."

"I can't work with a blithering fuckhead," Rachel said.

Chaki opened her mouth to retort, but then she dived away. Rachel followed suit, getting out of range of another few thrusts.

The halberdiers followed up on them immediately. They'd caught on to the dissention in the ranks. Rachel ducked and weaved backward, staying clear of the pole weapons. If Chaki had just gone down the tunnel instead of digging in her heels about what a wonderful saint she was, maybe Rachel might have been able to hold them off a little while longer. Every inch counted while Jackson was back there...doing whatever.

The tunnel rumbled.

Rachel glanced at Chaki. Her eyes flicked from side to side, then met Rachel's. She'd felt it too.

The tunnel rumbled again, then again, increasing in tempo and volume. The stone walls gave the sound no place to go. Rachel felt like an ant on the inside of a soda can, a can that was being wacked with a stick by an unruly child. She took a knee to stop herself from tripping on her own feet.

A massive stone hand slammed into the ground next to her. Rachel followed its arm to a huge body, squatted low inside a tunnel, then that up to its head, a scarred, flat face that only a mother could love.

Jackson was sitting on the thing's shoulder. There was a big stupid grin plastered on his face.

Whatever Rachel had been expecting, it sure as hell wasn't this. She grinned, half from the suddenness of it all, half from the expression on his face. Written on his face was simple joy of someone who was winning their favorite game. Rachel could relate.

The statue brought its other hand around. It was going to land in the center of the halberdiers. They realized this. They also realized they had nowhere to run. Their careful formation and strict training broke down into blind panic in a heartbeat.

The hand swatted them like flies. The statue moved forward, staying low to keep from hitting its head on the ceiling and using its hands for balance. The soldiers in the way were crushed mercilessly, smashed underfoot or mushed along the walls like dough under a stone rolling pin. Blood and innards sprayed everywhere, popping out of orifices under the tremendous pressure.

For a moment, Rachel's mind didn't react to the carnage. The nerve impulse from her eyeballs stirred around in her brain, grinding circuits around the neurons. Something clicked, and it all rolled out at once, the death, the gruesome carnage, the blood everywhere, fucking everywhere. She scampered back against the wall, drawing in her legs and holding her breath.

Another living statue crept by, and then a third, dragging themselves forward. Any halberdiers still alive were annihilated by their passing.

Chaki ran by Rachel's spot, throwing her a look. She skipped through the bloodstains and around pieces of bodies without a care, following Jackson out to the entrance.

If it hadn't been for that, Rachel would have sat there until the world ended. But something about the way that damn bitch looked at her – the disdain, the dismissiveness – made the pacing green envy inside Rachel rattle the bars. It forced her to her feet and beat back her sense of disgust.

She picked the path that seemed the least bloodstained. She tried to ignore the crunches and squishing sounds that came from her boots. I can do this. Fuck germs. Fuck diseases. I got this. I'm the shit. Fuck this really sucks. Fuck. Fucking Chaki.

Eventually, the mess cleared itself up. She'd probably gotten to the part of the tunnel where they were actually able to escape from the stone golems.

Rachel emerged from the cavern to a scene of total destruction.

The lowland between the foothills leading to the cavern was covered in corpses. Bodies were twisted and deformed, bent in ways they weren't supposed to bend. One of the golems was chasing down a group of soldiers; they were sprinting away, but it moved closer with every step. She turned away when its foot came down on top of them.

She jogged to the top of the hill. The other two golems had mashed a path through the tent city. The bodies of horses were everywhere. Hale's heavy cavalry hadn't stood a chance.

In the distance, the golems moved, their rock almost black against the grey sky. On occasion, Rachel saw one kick out a foot or swipe a hand, taking the life of some hapless soldier.

The snow had stopped. Rachel sighed, and dropped her sword. She was tired of carrying the damn thing.

The battle was over.

Jackson sat in front of a campfire. One leg was folded close to him; his other extended forward, bent at the knee. He leaned on that leg, resting his hand across his kneecap.

Rachel squatted on his left, holding her hands to the fire. She was somewhat wet. The first thing she'd done after the golems returned to their cavern was run to the river and throw herself into it headfirst. She'd come out looking like a chilled ghost, but the fire was starting to restore her normal belligerence.

Chaki sat close on his right. She stared at the fire. She hadn't said much.

There wasn't much to say.

Shaka, Hanta, and Vuntha were out and about. There was a lot to clean, a lot to rebuild, and even more to restore.

2000 of the tribesmen had lost their lives. Kunaya and the Three Hills members that had sold them to Hale were nowhere to be found. The remaining members of that tribe guessed that they'd probably run back to their villages. Revenge was being plotted.

Jackson let them plot. He didn't want much to do with it.

He glanced at Rachel. She gazed at the fire. Her eyes were distant. She hadn't said a word in a while.

"You okay?" Jackson asked.

She looked at him. A little smile ran over her face. He braced himself for her usual chatter, but Rachel's words were subdued. "Yeah. I'm okay. Just...it was a lot."

"Yeah." Jackson tried to think of something else. He had the urge to rev her back up, get her mind off things. "That ability was pretty cool," Jackson said. "With all the lights and everything."

Rachel nodded. "Mmm. Flicker Sticker."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "What's it called?"

Rachel grinned. "I renamed it. It was called Multithrust, but shit, that's boring. Every fucking generic RPG ever has a multithrust. So I named it Flicker Sticker."

"I didn't realize you could rename them," Jackson said.

"Of course you didn't," Rachel said. Her smile turned smarmy. "I'm the brains of the outfit, after all."

Movement on his right drew his attention. Chaki leaned over, wrapping her arm around his. He rubbed the back of her shoulders, then glanced at Rachel again. She wasn't looking at him, but past him – at Chaki. Chaki stared back at her.

"So, um," Jackson said. "I'm glad you two got to meet."

Both Chaki and Rachel forced smiles onto their faces, but even Jackson could see the expressions were forced. They didn't add any words to his feeble attempt at conversation. Jackson looked back at the fire. It didn't seem so warm anymore.

"Tatanka Ska."

Jackson looked up. A man named Jalak was there. He wore a big headdress, and it looked like it had been through hell. Most of the feathers were either burned or missing. Through the gaps in the hat Jackson could see his patchy, balding hair.

Two men stood next to him. They were holding Tell'ad in their arms.

"Let him down," Jacksons said. "He's on our side."

They dropped him. Tell'ad fell to his knees. The two warriors looked like they wanted something else from him – probably a few punches. Anyone with relations to the iron men was currently not in favor.

Jackson's word had stopped them from doing the knight undue harm. Something had changed between Jackson and the tribes; the relationship had been permanently altered. Before, he was an anomaly, a rumor, a walking event. He'd been presented as legitimate from the Windseekers, and many had taken Shaka's word. At the same time, many were quiet skeptics.

Now, Jackson's word was unquestionable law. Probably has something to do with all the people I killed.

"Is the portal sealed?" Jackson asked.

Jalak nodded. "It is done. Shaka asked me to tell you that she and the other spirit guides have closed the entrance. No one will be allowed inside, as you have said."

"Thank you," Jackson said.

Jalak and his men clasped his hands in the way that they all did, and bowed their heads. They moved off.

Rachel had stood. She walked over to Tell'ad. The man was on his feet. They looked at each other for a time, Rachel in black leather, broken and torn from battle, Tell'ad in rags. His collar was gone – probably removed by Shaka.

"Would you believe me if I say I missed you?" Tell'ad asked Rachel.

"Of course," Rachel said. "I'm very missable. And that's Lady Ransfeld to you, Sir Tell'ad."

"Apologies, my lady."

"Apology accepted." Rachel planted her hands on her hips and looked him up and down. "Take a knee."

Tell'ad's beard curled into a frown. "I'm sorry?"

"Kneel," Rachel said, "before I kick you over."

Tell'ad hesitated. He glanced at Jackson. "I'd go along with it if I were you," Jackson said. "She can be pretty mean when she wants to be."

"I know all about that," Tell'ad said. He grunted his way down on one knee, wincing as he moved. Jackson figured he was still getting over the whole monstrous transformation thing.

Rachel's hand went to her belt. She patted there for a moment, then looked down. "Dammit, I left my sword out there." She shrugged. "Fuck it. My hand is the best hand in the universe anyway." She leaned forward and tapped Tell'ad's left shoulder, then his right. "I hereby dub the Sir Tell'ad, of the Order of the Sunflower. Do you accept knighthood in this prestigious order which I just made up, and thereby take up a burden as my companion in the grand adventure I'm sure to have?"

Tell'ad looked at Jackson again. Jackson lifted his hands in in a shrug. Tell'ad made his own shrug, and smiled. "I accept."

"Great!" Rachel smacked her hands together. "That's that."

"A question," Tell'ad said.

"Fire away," Rachel said.

"Why sunflowers?"

"I'm glad you asked that, my faithful servant," Rachel said, raising a finger. "First of all, sunflowers are yellow, and I love yellow. Just like my hair!" She flourished a hand through her hair as she said it. "Second of all, sunflowers are full of energy and just plain happy. Everyone likes sunflowers. What better plant to describe me?"

Chaki emitted a loud snort.

Rachel's head snapped in her direction. Jackson was grateful when, for once, she chose not to pick a fight. She clapped her hands together again. "Yo Jackson."

"Yo."

"What do I have to do to get one of those bond thingamajigs to..." Rachel trailed off as a white pentagram flashed into existence on Tell'ad's hand. They all stared at it. Rachel looked into the air, examining an alert that appeared in front of her. He couldn't see the text unless she allowed it, but he knew the gist of it already. "Never mind," Rachel said. "Hmm. Guess I have to think about this."

"I can tell you what the North Star does," Jackson said. "The rest...who knows."

Rachel nodded sagely. Tell'ad's face wrinkled up with a touch of worry. "Lady Ransfeld, what exactly –"

"Oh, pipe down," Rachel said. She grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "Come on. Even I have a little bit of tact. This is kinda a joint decision." She tugged him away from the campfire, the image of a blonde fairy somehow towing a grizzled bear.

And then it was quiet, and as many nights before, Jackson had the wind, and the fire, and Chaki.

"So," Chaki said.

"So," Jackson said.

"Can I ask?"

Jackson nodded. "Yeah."

Chaki turned, facing him. "What happened in the mountain?"

"A lot of things," Jackson said. "I'm not sure how to deal with it all. But I think...maybe you and Rachel can help, quite a bit."

"Rachel," Chaki said. There was a way she said the name that Jackson wasn't sure he liked. "I'm sure we can handle it ourselves. It's not really any of her business, anyway. Shakhan wanted to see you."

"No, she's involved in this too," Jackson said. "As much as I am. As much as we all..." Jackson trailed off. "I have to stop her!" Jackson launched himself up from his seat and ran forward. Rachel and Tell'ad hadn't gotten far. "Rachel!" he shouted. "Rachel! Stop! Don't make the –"

Light flared on Tell'ad's hand. The pentagram grew brighter and brighter, until it was a sun Jackson could hardly look at. He shielded his eyes.

When the light faded, a black mark had imprinted itself permanently on Tell'ad's hand. Another bond. Another soul linked to Lucifer. Jackson slowly came to a halt, his outstretched hand falling back to his side. He'd inadvertently screwed someone else over. Again.

But as he watched Rachel standing there, a big smile on her face, Jackson remembered something. Lucifer didn't know about Bonds.

Maybe bonds weren't such a bad thing after all.

"Jackson?" Rachel shouted out to him. "What's up?"

"Nothing," he called. "Never mind. It's not a big deal."

"You won't get away with that," she said. "I'm grilling you on it later!"

"That's fine," Jackson said. I fully intend to tell you everything, anyway.

He started back. Chaki had followed him some way from the fire. He took her hand up in his. She gave him a questioning look, but he shrugged and shook his head. She decided not to ask, something for which he was thankful.

He had to log out of Isis and warn a few thousand people about what they were getting into. At least, he had to try. He wasn't sure how he'd do it. Post a video online? Some kind of demonstration? Maybe Rachel or Chaki would have some ideas. First, he had to tell them what was actually down there.

His essence lingered at 1202. He hadn't had to spend a point once the golems came out. As soon as the job was done, they retreated from whence they came, single-function robots. Not Jackson's taste – he'd have added a few more bells and whistles – but they got the job done.

With that much essence, he could do some research. Figure out his Attributes, his abilities. Maybe try out one of the Words from the black cubes.

"About Rachel," Chaki said. They sat back down around the fire. Jackson nodded for her to go ahead. "I asked her about her last name, Ransfeld. She told me she was related to that Charles person - the one that came after us in your world."

Jackson leaned back and stared at the sky as ten thousand emotions and possible responses shot through him.

He settled on one that was tried and true. "Shit."

Jackson's Statistics:

Strength - 700 +70 (+10%)
Vitality – 285 +29 (+10%)
Agility - 50 +3 (+5%)
Compulsion - 0
Persuasion – 0
Spirit - 744 +186 (+25%)

Health – 331/331
Essence – 1202
Carry Weight – 29.1/145.5

Thank you for reading. Comments and criticism are always appreciated.

This chapter ends the first story arc of Dream Drive. For now, the narrative will be put on hold. I have to buckle down and write the sequel to my published novel, and there are several other ideas I want to explore – not to mention that whole pharmacy school thing taking up a lot of my time.

It's going to be a while before I come back to Dream Drive, but when I do, at the minimum, there will be several major adjustments. In fact, I'm debating whether or not I should rewrite it from scratch. There's been some excellent criticism offered to me through the comments on various chapters, many of which I think are spot on, especially on a few key characters and some of the pacing issues. Either way, when it makes a comeback, it'll be in a professional format and published online. When that time comes, I hope I'll have your support.

The enthusiasm for my work took me by surprise. What started as a fun side-project to get some ideas out on paper quickly became a hugely encompassing tale that I took as seriously as anything else I do. I'm quite grateful for the excellent community here which has reached out and made me feel at home, and I very much appreciate the time and dedication my editors have made to making this story better than I could make it on my own.

If you have questions for me, send me a message. You can find the option to do so in my profile. I keep up with my email regularly, but feel free to contact me again if it's been more than a week or two.

And, don't worry. I'm very stubborn about finishing my projects. Dream Drive will live again. Between then and now, may your life be filled with wonderful books and rich adventures.

I hope you enjoyed the story!

- Over_Red