The silver slayer stalked around the edges of his vision, but he didn't turn. He wasn't going to let her bait him, not this time. She spiraled closer and closer until she finally came to stop less than a foot from his face.
"Look at you, Señor Duro," she mocked. "Think you can resist me this time?"
He suddenly realized Silver was not Spanish. He had taken it for granted that she was, but her voice held no trace of an accent. That hadn't occurred to him until just now, when he was trying to ignore her. A dull ache crept up his leg where she had slashed him while he was still awake, and he realized she was trailing a blade along the gash.
"Aren't you going to talk to me?" she pouted. "We can't play unless you talk to me."
What did that mean? Wasn't she reading his mind? How else could she be sending him this dream? Although he was suddenly dying to know…and maybe he should not think that term again…he remained silent in the hopes she would go away sooner.
"Very well, niño. Let me give you this to think about."
She backed up until she faded away, but before he could celebrate, something cold and metallic closed around his neck. He moved to grab onto it, and shackles appeared around both of his wrists; they wouldn't let him reach any farther up than his elbows. Two more appeared around both ankles, but they were rather redundant. Just when he thought he couldn't be any more constrained, chains snaked around his body, wrapping him in painfully tight coils. He couldn't breathe; he couldn't move.
The pale grey fog of the dreamscape was replaced by a cold cavern. Rain splattered onto his head from a chimney in the rock. He struggled, and a dark shape hit him hard across the mouth. It seemed to cuss at him in Spanish, but he couldn't understand more than a word or two. Finally, it hit him one last time and turned to leave.
"Don't leave me here!" he yelled. It was at that moment that he realized he was reliving Meryll's death. Her husband turned and sneered something, then left.
Danny gasped for air and collapsed into a coughing fit, then rolled out of Haight and regained his footing. His leg was still weak, but it would suffice. The executioner shook his head slowly and seemed to sigh. "Interesting dreams?" he asked quietly.
"You mean Silver doesn't share?" the boy responded scathingly.
"Silver…" He stopped to inhale, then started over. "Silver is Silver…what can I say?"
"Goodbye would be a start," Danny pointed out.
Haight sniffed in mock arrogance. "…I know where I'm not wanted…And normally I would stay simply because of that, but for now…I'll leave you. I just thought you'd like to know…" He drifted toward a tree and pointed up into the branches. "You're now officially in the lead." The boy stood where he was for a while. He didn't really want to look, but something drew him there anyway.
Not too long ago, a man and his wife had gone for a sail. A storm had sprung up, and they were presumed dead. Danny now conclusively knew their fate, or the husband's at least. The wife had probably been Silver's hostage. The husband had climbed into this tree and starved to death. He hadn't been here long, or at least, hadn't been dead for long.
Danny tried to back away too quickly and tripped over his weakened leg. The man's eyes were open, as if in horror at what he had seen. Knowing Silver, it had been probably been visions of his wife dying in innumerable ways. As if to remind him, the image of his family standing in the middle of a pack of marksmen flashed across his eyes, and he stood. He had a mission.
It was getting dark again, so he limped carefully along. His leg would finish healing soon enough and standing still for long on this island was suicidal behavior. He followed the path back into a manmade canyon and stopped short to see Meryll standing a dozen feet away.
"The inmates were trapped in the cave-in," she said vaguely. "But it didn't end there. It's still going on here, now, today, everywhere…" She didn't look as the boy moved forward, but continued talking as if to herself. "We used to play here, until his dad found us. It wasn't that it was dangerous; it was that he was with me." He was less than a foot away when time froze to show him young Meryll crying as her friend was beaten mercilessly by his father with a length of chain. "It was only a game," she whispered.
Danny shook his head. He thought he was beginning to piece together Meryll's life. Obviously, she had been persecuted because of her looks. Her friend had been horribly abused by his father. That must have been the basis for their friendship. But as they grew, her friend-turned-husband had begun beating her; it was probably all he knew. When everything had happened five years ago, he must have chained her up and left her to die. Why he would have done that, the boy couldn't even begin to decipher. Nor could he figure out exactly how Haight factored in.
He decided to think about it later as he came upon the tree where five C.O.s had been lynched and skinned alive. He knew it was that particular tree because the event had been recorded for posterity. The image vanished as he got closer, and Silver took that moment to replay it her way.
Danny clenched his fists. "Cut it out!" he yelled, turning away from the sight of his family hanging from that branch. He saw something move quickly behind a tree and began blasting at it. She hadn't been expecting him to turn; maybe she couldn't read his mind, after all.
A silver metal marksman lumbered out from behind the tree and began firing. The boy ducked and rolled behind the lynching tree, then leaned out to fire at it again.
You really never learn, do you? Silver mocked.
"What are you; some kind of shape shifter?" Danny called back from behind his cover.
Not at all. What I am and what you perceive me as are two very different things. Haven't you realized yet I can affect what you see, what you feel?
And suddenly, he figured it out. His leg had never been injured because he hadn't been attacked by a slayer. He wasn't being attacked by a marksman now. He closed his eyes and took a breath to center himself, then walked calmly into the open and went on his way. He gritted his teeth against the fiery pain of bullet wounds, but didn't stop. As soon as he got out of sight of her, he collapsed onto a rock, as much at relief from the pain as because his nerves were completely shot.
A silver metal mainliner crawled into view and juggled a syringe in one hand. Ingenioso… she praised him. Very clever. I won't try that again, will I? He watched as she crawled around a corner and made no move to follow until a real marksman showed up.
Once it had been dealt with, he followed the path Silver had taken to find himself at an impasse. He knew where he needed to be because Meryll was waiting for him there, but it was a thirty foot jump over a fifty foot drop at the very least. He walked up to the edge of the rusting steel platform and looked around, as though the answer would reveal itself.
There was a rusted old crane; below was the area of canyon he had traversed before he reached the lynching tree. The cliff face leaned over the canyon, so he couldn't just climb across. And there was no way he would ever be able to jump that gap.
He ran his hand across his face as a clicking noise informed him that he had missed seeing one of Killjoy's projectors. "Not in the mood right now," he said without turning.
"Ah, hostility," the doctor sighed. "It shall never grow old. So many of my patients award me that attitude at first, yet I persevere! The road of the healer is a lonely one indeed-"
"You're an actor!" Danny burst out. The gestures, the tone, the vague reminder of his thespian friend Kat; it all made sense.
Killjoy stopped, torn between irritation and amusement. Amusement won. "Indeed, my dear boy," he laughed. "Are you perhaps more learned than my original assumption?"
"I have a friend who's an actress," the boy explained.
"Really? Perhaps you could introduce us some day. I do so long for a real actor to play opposite me sometimes. Alas, so few of them have any talent. Ah, but you have distracted me, you naughty boy. We are here to talk about you, not me. Tell me, lad. What do you feel when Silver shows you visions of violence?"
Danny huffed and turned back around. It was worth a shot. "I feel like trying to get over there," he said, pointing across the chasm.
Killjoy sighed theatrically. "Very well. Answer me this one question, and I will aid you in your crossing."
He didn't want to answer. He didn't want to think about it. When Silver showed him things, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around her throat. He had never before known what it truly meant to want to kill someone. Finally, he said simply, "I hate her."
"There, now! A breakthrough at last! That wasn't so difficult, was it? Perhaps you've more to share?"
Danny glared. "No! Now, I want you to tell me how to get across."
"Oh, very well," the doctor replied heavily. "And things were going so well. You should consider talking to me, dear boy. I understand you would prefer to share these personal matters with your usual psychiatrist, but she is rather tied up at the moment. Nevertheless!"
Killjoy flickered out and the projected light became a bridge that spanned the gap. Danny walked up to it dubiously. "You have got to be kidding me…"
"Consider it a leap of faith, my boy. It is the way across, although I expect you shall be here for some time. You clearly do not trust me enough yet. Alas, while my patience is limitless, your family's lives are not."
The boy leaned down and put his hand against the projected light. It wasn't solid, but… He sighed, closed his eyes, and started walking. After what seemed like an eternity, he felt metal under his feet again and opened his eyes.
"Oh, bravo!" Killjoy called. "Now, perhaps you would like to-"
"Nope," Danny cut him off. He turned and walked away, leaving the doctor to wind down alone.