C.E. Murphy - Coyote Dreams

His raw strength rumbled through me, the big V8 engine I always thought of around him. I didn’t so much gather it up as focus it through the topaz, like I was letting the darkness know that this man, at least, wasn’t an easy target. The stone held in our hands thrummed with its own kind of defiance, like it knew what I was doing. I couldn’t sense any natural antipathy for the gem on the part of the darkness, but the rest it offered was far from peaceful, and the topaz seemed to have an opinion about that. I added my own whisper to the barrier against sleep the gem presented, a shoring up of its will, then said to Gary, “Push it out. It’s your mind. Your garden. You’re the one with the power to reject it. I’ll be right behind you.”

War fell down on us, clods of earth spraying from the sky as we crawled forward, doing more than just holding the line against the enemy. We were encroaching on Korean territory, the black scent of powder in the air and screams of anger and fear tearing through smoke and gunshots. I dragged in a breath that somehow sounded too loud in the noise and Gary reached back to silence me, a warning hand lifted. I bit the heel of my hand, tasting mud, and waited.

The surge forward came before I knew it, a final call across the lines that was a promise of victory or death. Enemy fire lashed out in rays of colored heat, more seen in my mind’s eye than in reality. Only the aftermath, puffs of dirt rising where bullets hit, men falling in their path, were truly visible. But for every encroachment I saw another of my brothers in arms stand fast, stagger forward and reclaim a span of land. My vision blurred, confusing me: those warriors had faces of their own, but when I looked too closely they became my face, contorted with determination that bordered on rage. Even my face was a confusing concept; I saw myself, Gary , reflected all around, doing battle against an unseen adversary.

Once routed by even a single step, our attackers fell back, slowly at first and then faster, slipping through cracks and hollows as if they’d never been there at all. As quickly as a syringe might draw blood. And then we met a wall, as if the forty-ninth parallel had been given physical, real presence, and then the enemy lay beyond that wall and I stood at the edge of Gary’s garden, fingers against it, panting from an effort I could hardly conceive of. I thought I saw feathery eyes glowing, dark in the shape of the wall.

Then sparks of gold and blue darted through it, the colors of topaz half daring anyone to test them. I dropped my hand with a wheezed laugh and turned to Gary.

He was battle-torn and bleeding, gray eyes gone darker than I’d ever seen them. Youth had fled him, for all that he was no older than he’d been at the USO dance. That boy was gone, though, leaving behind a man who’d learned mortality belonged to everyone. All my laughter fell away and I stepped forward, reaching up to take his face in both hands. “Come on back to me now, Gary. It’s gone. Whatever it is, it’s gone.”

He flinched when I touched him, staring down at me as if I were a stranger to him. Then a shudder ran over him and he folded one of his hands around one of mine, taking it from his face. “Jo.” The name seemed to bring him back to himself a little, and he drew a sharp breath, eyes clearing. “Jesus, I ain’t had dreams like that in forty years.”

I pulled a smile. “I probably would’ve gone for more of a pickup truck with a snowplow metaphor, myself, but whatever works, right? I didn’t know you’d fought,” I said with a little less humor. “I mean, I didn’t know it was like that.”

“It’s not somethin’ I care to dwell on, doll.” He’d folded my hand over his heart and smiled at me. “I figure I’m all shored up now, Jo. Do your trick and get us out of here, you crazy dame. You’ve got a lotta work to do back there.”

“Right.” I slid my hand out of his and turned to the strong wall we’d come to, putting my fingertips against it again. I knew the topaz, steady as stone with its intrinsic gift of quiet sleep had done its work there, but there was something else—

—yes. As much a part of those defenses as anything I’d done, maybe more, rested the complacency of the tortoise spirit that helped protect Gary. I wasn’t at all sure it could keep him awake, but along with his deliberate, forceful rejection of the thing that had followed me into his soul, and the piece of protective stone in his pocket, there was something of a trinity working in his favor now. He’d been struck down twice because of me, once by Cernunnos and once by Faye. I was not going to let it happen again.

I said, “Okay,” and opened my eyes again in the real world. My hand fell away from Gary’s chest and he took a deep, startled breath, then looked at me, gray eyes opened wide. I said, “I don’t know,” before he could speak, and rubbed the heel of my hand against my breastbone. Scattered thoughts danced through my mind, barely letting me catch hold of them. “Unless it’s following me. I might’ve gotten its attention, poking around at Billy and Mel.” I was speaking more to Petite’s dashboard than anything else, and Gary kept quiet, letting me talk. “I’m trying to think. I’ve been falling in and out of trances all over the place the past couple days.” I tried for a smile. “See how I said that, like it was totally normal?”

He gave me a quick grin and I leaned forward to put my hands and forehead against the steering wheel. “But that was the first time since Billy went to sleep that I’ve tried healing anybody. I ran a diagnostic on Erik—”

Gary laughed. I found I couldn’t blame him, and returned a sheepish smile. “Well, I did. But I didn’t try healing him, and that was before the dream at Mel’s bedside, anyway. I think…crap, Gary.” I sat up again. “I think if I try healing anybody I might lead this thing right into them. Come on ,” I said to the roof, and the sky beyond that, and to any gods who might be listening beyond that , “I finally agree to play ball and now I don’t get to? What kind of joke is that?”

“Cosmic irony,” Gary offered in a dry voice. I eyed him, then exhaled and nodded, tapping my fingertip against the steering wheel.

“Change of plans.” My voice sounded hoarse again. “I’ve got to learn more about this thing, Gary. Even if it sucks me up, I’ve got to try. Maybe just one thing will go right today.”

My cell phone rang.

I shrieked and dropped the damned thing in the foot well, nearly stomping it for good measure, and decided to let it ring. After the fourth ring Gary gave me a look I preferred not to interpret and reached for it, answering with a gruff “H’lo?” A moment later he handed it over, looking sanguine. “It’s for you.”

I muttered, “I’m going to kill you,” and took the phone. “I’d hate for you to think I was following you,” a woman’s voice said, “but if your personal business is necking with older men in your Mustang, do you really think that’s more important than being at work?”

It took a few seconds for the voice to click. Then I dropped against the headrest and groaned. “Ms. Corvallis.”

“Officer Walker,” she said far too cheerfully. “He’s not really my type, but whatever floats your boat. Sugar daddy?”

“What do you want , Ms. Corvallis?” I didn’t want to call her Laura, for fear of creating some kind of bond between us.

“I want to know what you’re doing, Officer Walker, since it doesn’t seem to be protecting Seattle’s citizens. I’m almost certain that’s your job description.”

“I’m…” I had no answer for her. Gary, who knew whom he’d handed over to me, raised a finger in suggestion. I put my thumb over the mouthpiece and lifted my eyebrows at him.