John Hawks - The Traveler

“What’s wrong?” Gabriel asked. “Everything is empty.”

The little man stood up and looked intently at Gabriel. “You must be new here.”

“How can you sell empty boxes?”

“Because they want what’s inside them. We all do.”

The man was drawn to the warmth of Gabriel’s body. Eagerly, he stepped forward, but Gabriel pushed him away. Trying not to panic, he left the store and returned to the square. His heart was beating quickly and a cold wave of fear rushed through his body. Sophia Briggs had told him about this place. He was in the Second Realm of the hungry ghosts. They were lost spirits, fragments of Light that were constantly searching for something to fill their painful emptiness. He would stay here forever unless he could find the passageway out.

He hurried down the street and was surprised to find a butcher shop. Lamb chops, pork roasts, and sides of beef were lying on metal trays inside the brightly lit store. A heavyset butcher with blond hair stood behind the case with his assistant, a young man in his twenties. A boy wearing a man’s apron was carefully sweeping the white tile floor. The food was real. The two men and the boy looked healthy. Gabriel’s hand touched the brass doorknob. He hesitated, then went inside.

“You must be a new arrival,” the butcher said with a cheerful smile. “I know just about everyone around here and I’ve never seen you before.”

“Is there something to eat?” Gabriel asked. “What about these hams?”

He pointed to three smoked hams hanging from hooks over the display counter. The butcher looked amused and the assistant sneered. Without asking permission, Gabriel reached up and touched one of the hams. It felt wrong. Something was wrong. He pulled it off the hook, dropped it on the floor, and watched the ceramic object shatter into pieces. Everything in the store was false: imaginary food displayed like the real thing.

He heard a sharp click and spun around. The boy had locked the door latch. Turning again, Gabriel saw the butcher and his assistant come from behind the display case. The assistant pulled an eight-inch knife from the leather holder that hung from his belt. The owner held a large cleaver. Gabriel drew his sword and stepped back so he was near the wall. The boy set aside the broom and pulled out a thin, curved knife-the sort of thing that was used to cut fillets off a bone.

Smiling, the assistant raised his arm and threw his weapon. Gabriel jerked to the left as the blade buried itself in the wood paneling. Now the butcher came forward, swinging and twirling the heavy cleaver. Gabriel faked a cut to the head, then came down low and slashed the butcher’s arm. The ghost grinned and displayed the wound: cut skin, muscle, and bone, but no blood at all.

Gabriel attacked; the cleaver came up and blocked his sword. Two blades rubbed against each other, the steel screeching like a caught bird. Gabriel jumped to one side, got behind the butcher, and swung low, cutting off the ghost’s left leg below the knee. The butcher fell forward and hit the tile floor. He lay on his stomach, groaning and reaching out his arms as if he were trying to swim on dry land.

The assistant grabbed a knife off the chopping board and Gabriel got ready to defend himself. Instead, the assistant knelt beside the butcher and stabbed him in the back. He cut deeply, pulling the blade down through the muscle to the hips. The boy ran over and joined this attack, cutting off pieces of dry flesh and stuffing them in his mouth.

Gabriel unlocked the door and ran outside. He crossed the street to the little park at the center of the square and realized that people were coming out of the buildings. He recognized the woman who had been playing the piano and the little clerk with the bow tie. The ghosts knew that he was in their city. They were searching for him, hoping that he could fill their emptiness.

Gabriel stood alone beside the bandstand. Should he run away from them? Was there a way to escape? He heard a car engine, spun around, and saw headlights coming down one of the side streets. As the car got closer, he saw that it was an old-fashioned taxicab with a glowing yellow light on the roof. Someone began honking the taxi’s horn over and over again, then the vehicle pulled up to the curb. The driver rolled down the side window and grinned; it was Michael.

“Jump in!” he shouted.

Gabriel scrambled into the car and his brother circled the square, honking the horn and steering around the ghosts. He turned down a side street and went a little faster. “I was up on the roof of this building and then I looked down and saw you in the square.”

“How’d you get the cab?”

“I ran down to the street and this cabdriver showed up. He was a skinny old guy who kept asking if I was ‘new’-whatever that means. So I yanked him out of the cab, punched him in the face, and drove away.” Michael laughed loudly. “I don’t know where we are, but I doubt if I’ll be arrested for car theft.”

“We’re in the Second Realm of the hungry ghosts.”

“That sounds right. I stepped into a diner and there were four people sitting in the booths. No food anywhere. Just empty plates.”

Michael jerked the steering wheel hard and turned the cab into an alleyway. “Hurry up,” he said. “We’ve got to get into this building before anyone sees us.”

The brothers got out of the cab. Michael was holding a sword with a gold triangle embedded in the handle.

“Where’d you get that?” Gabriel asked.

“Friends.”

“It’s a talisman.”

“I know. It’s good to have a weapon in a place like this.”

The Corrigan brothers left the alleyway and hurried down the sidewalk to a four-story building with a granite façade. The large entrance door was made of dark metal and it was divided into squares with bas-relief sculptures of wheat, apples, and other kinds of food. Michael pulled the door open and the brothers slipped inside. They were in a long windowless hallway with a black-and-white checkerboard floor and lamps hanging from brass chains. Michael jogged down the hallway and stopped at a door marked LIBRARY. “Here we are. Safest place in town.”

Gabriel followed his brother into a two-story room with a stained-glass window at one end. All the walls were lined with oak shelves crammed with books. There were ladders on wall tracks running the length of the room and a catwalk fifteen feet up that gave access to another set of shelves. Heavy wooden chairs and reading tables covered with a green leather surface were in the middle of the room. Lamps made of dark green glass illuminated the tables. The library made Gabriel think of history and tradition. Any book of wisdom could be found in this place.

Michael strolled around as if he were the librarian. “Nice, huh?”

“And no one will come here?”

“Of course not. Why would they do that?”

“To read a book.”

“No chance of that.” Michael picked up a thick book with a black leather binding and tossed it to his brother. “See for yourself.”

Gabriel opened the book and found nothing but blank pages. He dropped it on a table and pulled another book from the shelves. Blank pages. Michael laughed.

“I looked in the Bible and the dictionary. Everything’s blank. The people who live here can’t eat, drink, or read. I bet they can’t have sex or go to sleep. If this is a dream, then it’s definitely a nightmare.”

“It’s not a dream. We’re both here.”

“That’s right. We’re Travelers.” Michael nodded and touched his brother’s arm. “I was worried about you, Gabe. I’m glad you’re all right.”

“Father’s alive.”

“How do you know that?”

“I went to a place called New Harmony in southern Arizona. Eight years ago, Father met some people and inspired them to start a community living free of the Grid. He could be in our world-this world-anywhere.”