The Highway West Andrew 85
Chapter Eleven: Alpha
Memory, prophecy, and fantasy--the past, the future and the dreaming moment between-- are all one country, living one immortal day.
To know that is Wisdom.
To use it is the Art.
-Clive Barker, The Great and Secret Show
Like a Grandmaster returning victorious from a chess tournament MacDuff waltzed into the conference room. He allowed the others to glimpse his new power like a stripper peeling layers of clothing. Casually, he took his seat at the head of the conference and pulled his pipe from his pocket. Forcing the others to wait, MacDuff lit his pipe and inhaled deeply. Scanning the room, MacDuff found that Murphy, Morrison, and every other creature that he invited had arrived and eagerly watched his every movement.
"Thank you for coming. As I promised I do have interesting information for you. To begin with Gideon is dead and I am the new Lord of Los Angeles," MacDuff informed them.
The audience of twenty murmured with excitement. MacDuff paused to let the elders of the city digest the information. A few of them had sworn loyalty to Gideon and were clearly not happy. The tall vampire with long greasy black hair and dark sunglasses known as Blake shook his head with disgust. Defiantly, he rose from his chair and slipped on his ragged leather jacket.
"So you bagged Gideon. Whose to say we gotta follow you?" Blake questioned the vampire master.
MacDuff thoughtfully puffed his pipe. "And whom should the leader be? You?" MacDuff asked.
"I run the Bloodz. I could run the city," Blake answered arrogantly.
A few of the elders whispered their agreement. The Bloods were a popular, powerful vampire gang that controlled much of the city's drug trafficking. MacDuff smiled; he had expected Blake to challenge him. Many of the Children of the Dark One were Social Darwinists who believed that only the strongest should rule. The subtlety of leadership and manipulation would always be foreign to them.
Morrison growled menacingly at Blake, but MacDuff shook his head. Smiling softly, MacDuff glanced in Blake's direction still smoking his pipe. Using the mystical blood swirling in his body, MacDuff mentally lunged towards Blake. Blake's easy smile twisted into a grimace of pain. "No! What are you doing?" Blake cried.
Silently, MacDuff continued to enjoy his pipe. Writhing in pain, Blake reached inside of his pants to produce a pistol. Desperately trying to still his shaking hands, Blake aimed his weapon at MacDuff. Black veins wormed their way to the surface of Blake's face. Gritting his teeth, Blake concentrated on pulling the trigger. As his finger triggered the pistol, Blake's head exploded like Mount Everest spreading a thin haze of crimson mist across the conference room. The bullet stopped an inch short of MacDuff's face and fell into his open hand.
Gently, MacDuff removed the pipe from his mouth. "As I was saying, Gideon is dead and I am the new Lord of Los Angeles," he repeated himself.
A thin, balding man wearing an expensive Armani three piece suit raised his hand. His name was Remington and MacDuff knew that he was a mage and unlike Blake could be dangerous. "Do you have a question Mr. Remington?" MacDuff inquired.
"As a matter of fact I do, Mr. MacDuff. What does the Shadow Lord think of you becoming the Lord. As you know, he does not appreciate you like we do," Remington questioned MacDuff.
MacDuff smiled. Remington was carefully baiting him. "Actually I was just getting to that. The Shadow Lord was defeated by the Five and I killed him," he revealed.
Awed, Remington's eyes bulged. "You killed the Shadow Lord," he muttered.
"It was quite easy once the Five defeated him," MacDuff admitted.
"What about the Five?" Remington asked.
Patently, MacDuff tapped his pipe and nodded towards Murphy, who opened he door to the conference room. A beautiful woman with long red hair waltzed into the room with a wicked smile. Her eyes and hair matched MacDuff's color. She wore a long white dress that highlighted her perfect breasts and slim figure.
"This is my mother Mary MacDuff. As some of you may know she was captured by Mephisto centuries ago. I made a deal with the demon. I would trick the Five into doing his dirty work and he would return her to me. The Five on my advice marched into Hell through the Highway West and dropped the First Seal of Creation down the Pit of Darkness. This had two effects. First, the Great Barrier was healed giving me time to prepare for the Ascension War. Second, it wounded the Dark One giving Mephisto a chance at the dark throne. I, and I alone, have Mephisto's backing," MacDuff explained.
"And the Five?" Remington asked.
"Elijah Kincaid is dead. He jumped down the Pit to deliver the First Seal of Creation to the Dark One," MacDuff answered.
"What about the Dreaded One?" Murphy inquired.
"Bucky is also dead. He jumped with Kincaid down the Pit. The others are mourning Kincaid in Xanadu. Since the Five are now four, they are powerless," MacDuff replied.
"What if they find a new member?" Remington questioned MacDuff.
'I have already taken steps to ensure that the remaining four are not a problem," MacDuff told them.
"I am impressed," Remington admitted to the master vampire.
"Thank you. I am telling you this for two reasons. First, I want you to be impressed. To be blunt I want you to join me. The second reason is that I know a few of you are spies. I know which ones you are, but it does not matter. I want you to spread the word to your masters. If you wish to live and prosper, then you will join me," MacDuff stated.
"And if we don't?" Murphy asked.
"You saw what happened to Blake," MacDuff warned him.
"You have an excellent way of making your point," Remington complimented him.
"Thank you. As Lord, I have a few announcements I wish to make here before the elders of the city. First, I need a loyal man who knows administration as my lieutenant. I have selected Murphy," MacDuff announced.
"Me? My lord, you know to whom my true loyalties lie," Murphy protested.
"Yes. I know. I also have something the Zhongshan wants," MacDuff revealed.
"What's that, my Lord?" Murphy asked, curious.
"The location of their Princess and the soul of their King," MacDuff answered.
The crowd gasped with amazement. "If that's the case, you know we will serve you," Murphy swore.
"Yes, I know. In addition, I am going to need an enforcer. I need a man who is a natural born killer. A man who will eat my enemies' bowels first and decapitate them later. I can thank of no one better suited to the task than Mr. Morrison," MacDuff told them.
Morrison grunted his approval and the audience was too afraid to disagree. "What do you want us to do?" one of the elders asked.
"You only have one order; obey me."
In stunned silence, MacDuff resumed smoking his pipe. He plan had been executed perfectly like a chess maneuver. He wished that Kincaid had been alive long enough to fully understand his plan. Life would boring without him.
"Who are you?" asked Iron John.
"I am Elijah Kincaid."
"What do you want?" asked the other. He was thin, young, and sad. He dressed as though he were attending a funeral. We wore white makeup and colored his lips black. Surprisingly, his hair was as blond as the sun and his eyes were the color of the morning sky. Although Kincaid had never met him, Cassie once knew him by the name of Barker.
"I want to live."
"Who are you?" asked the black man.
"I am the Chiyanbara."
"What do you want?" asked the white man.
"I want to purge the world of evil."
"Who are you?" asked builder of life.
"I am a man."
"What do you want?" asked the destroyer of life.
"I want to follow my ancestors."
"Who are you?" asked the Way.
"I am a bringer of light."
"What do you want?" asked the Means.
"A chance to hold the candle again."
"This is the last chance. Who are you?" asked the Father.
"I. . .I do not know."
The Son smiled. He had won. "What do you want?"
"To know who I am."
Surprised, the white man in black dropped his smile. Iron John laughed. "You see. They can learn. He has learned something it has taken you an eternity to discover."
"Perhaps, but I have made my choice."
"Have you? Or are you making that choice now?"
"I can not return. Innocence, once lost, is never regained."
"Innocence is not what I desire," Iron John stated.
"You have decreed that where there was seven, there would be three."
"One of the three has left the fold. He has followed you, Morgenstern."
"Who?"
"Gabriel."
"I can not believe it!"
"It is so. I have given him that which he wished the most."
"And that is?"
"Mortality. Humanity. Hope for the future."
"Then there is hope for me."
"How long are we going to sit here and just mourn? It's been three days! Can't we find out what happened to Elijah?" Cassie asked her fallen friend.
Caliban shifted slightly in his easy chair. For three days, almost from the instant they returned from Hell, he watched the tapestry for a sign of the man named Elijah Kincaid. Ruthie had bandaged his hand to stop the bleeding. A slighting tingling sensation indicated that his fingers were slowly regenerating. "His thread has been cut and I can not find any sign of him. Believe me when I say that I've tried," Caliban replied sadly.
Sighing, Cassie sat down next to Caliban and gazed into the tapestry. Since they had returned from Hell, Cassie had a sense that the mission was not complete. She refused to believe that Elijah had died. Caliban knew that his friend had died, he simply wanted to know how Elijah fared in his final quest.
Ruthie entered the room from the hallway, looking tired as though she had not slept for days. "How's she doing?" Cassie asked.
"Not good, honey. I'm afraid that she's locked herself in her bedroom. The poor thing hasn't eaten in three days. She must be going mad in there," Ruthie answered.
"She must feed soon," Caliban insisted.
"It's not exactly up to me. She's watching over his sword like its a relic or something," Ruthie protested.
"If she does not eat, she will lose her mind and go into a blood frenzy," Caliban explained.
"What can we do?" Cassie asked.
"I do not know," Caliban admitted.
Tears began to form in her eyes. "We've kind of jumped out of the fire and into the frying pan. What are we going to do?" Ruthie cried.
Cassie quickly joined Ruthie. "We have to do our best to follow Elijah's example. We have to remain heroes. It is the best way to honor is memory," Caliban declared.
"You think so?" a gruff feminine voice asked.
Marguerite entered the large room carrying Ascalon sheathed in the black silk scabbard Elijah had given her. Resting against one of the walls, she wiped a lock of her dark brown hair from her eyes. "What good did he do giving up his life like that? I can't believe that we trusted Bucky of all people! And what about MacDuff? We have to take him out. I promised," she told them.
"We have plenty of time for that. For now, you need rest," Caliban told her.
"I will rest when MacDuff is mine!" Marguerite growled.
An echoing clap-tap clap-tap alerted them to a new presence. Marguerite opened the shade slightly to see a white horse galloping with a cloaked rider towards Xanadu. "We've got company," she warned them.
By the time the rider reached Xanadu, Caliban and Marguerite prepared an ambush while Ruthie and Cassie stood out in the open as bait. Slowly, the horse trotted over to Cassie and sniffed her. The rider dismounted and dropped the white cloak.
"Oh my God! It can't be!" Ruthie cried.
"What?" Marguerite asked as she and Caliban revealed themselves from their hiding position.
Elijah Kincaid, naked and as pale as a hospital wall, stood before them.
"Is that you?" Marguerite asked.
Elijah looked at his hands, still surprised to be alive. "I have lost much," he answered.
Caliban wept. "How?" he asked.
"Elijah!" Cassie screamed, still in shock.
Marguerite stepped closer to him. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"I have seen better days," Elijah replied slowly.
Marguerite smiled for the first time in three days. "Here's your sword," she told Elijah as she handed his weapon to him.
"What happened?" Caliban asked.
"He was the rider. On a pale horse rode Death," Ruthie explained.
"Where have you been? It has been three days," Caliban asked.
Elijah looked over to Caliban and tried to remember. "It is difficult to remember," he explained.
"What do you remember?" Marguerite asked.
Elijah stepped closer to her. "I remember you," he whispered.
Elijah and Marguerite embraced. "I remember that I love you," he continued.
"Is that all?" Marguerite asked with a joke.
"No. . .I remember chicken," Elijah answered.
Cassie groaned. "I don't get it. How did you get out?" she asked.
"I remember whistling and a strong hand. He pulled me from the Pit. Healed my eyes," Elijah answered.
"Who? Who whistled?" Ruthie asked.
"Iron John," Elijah responded.
"Who's this Iron John?" Cassie asked.
"Are you sure?" Marguerite asked.
"He is also known as the Whistling Dude, Cassie. And yes I am certain, Marguerite," Elijah answered both questions at once.
"I know about the Whistling Dude!" Cassie cried.
"Yes, he knows all of us, even you Caliban," Elijah revealed.
"Then what happened?" Caliban asked.
Elijah scratched his head trying to remember. "He showed me the railroad. 'Many people ride these tracks. Most of them fall off that cliff there.' he told me, 'With your help, I've built a bridge. But as you can see the tracks have a long way to go.'"
"And then what happened?" Ruthie asked.
"He told me that my work was not yet done and that I had a choice. I could rest with him. He told me that I deserved it. Or I could return and complete the Five. He warned me that the Five was headed for a lot of hard times," Elijah told them.
"Hard times? What's that supposed to mean?" Cassie asked sarcastically.
"It is not over for us. For a moment, I knew everything that was going to happen. I knew about the Ascension War. I knew about the traitor. I knew about the gathering of the Twelve. But now it is gone. There is still much to do," Elijah answered.
"You're not doing anything but going to bed for rest," Marguerite told him.
"Rest. . .yes. . .that would be nice," Elijah agreed.
"Wait. I have questions," Caliban protested.
"You can ask them later," Marguerite insisted.
"Just a couple more questions, please," Caliban pleaded.
"Do you feel up to it?" Marguerite asked.
"I. . .can try to answer a few questions. It is good to be with you," Elijah answered
"What happened to Bucky?" Caliban asked.
"He had found the home he has always searched for and the secret receipt for twenty pieces of chicken," Elijah answered.
"Where's that? Kentucky Fried Chicken?" Marguerite asked sarcastically.
"The Void," Elijah explained.
"The Void? That's dead," Cassie protested.
"It is no longer dead. Bucky has given it new life. When Morgana robbed the Void of power, it robbed the collective imagination of humanity. Bucky's essence melted and revitalized the Dreamweb. He is now the Dream Lord of humanity," Elijah continued.
"If Bucky's in control of the Dreamweb, I'm not going to sleep well tonight," Cassie said with a smile.
"Why is your body so pale?" Caliban questioned him.
Cassie opened her fairy eyes and examined Elijah. The fires of Hell had burned all of the hate, malice, and anger from his soul, leaving him clean. Much to her surprise, Elijah was human and so much more. "I have been. . . .transformed. I am no longer just a man," the pale man answered.
"What are you then? An Angel?" Ruthie asked.
"I don't know," Elijah answered honestly.
"Remind me to tell you a little about angels," Cassie whispered to Ruthie.
"Last question," Marguerite insisted.
"Did we start the end times, Elijah?" Ruthie asked.
"It should have never been called the end times. This is not the end, but the beginning of the way things should have been."
Life is a series of distractions punctuated by brief moments of pure clarity. Everyone faces a single defining moment that changes the entire course of their future. For some that moment becomes the regret of a lifetime. Others have an inspired epiphany that transforms them much like fire transmutes wood into smoke. The sight of Elijah Kincaid returning from the abyss of Hell was akin to seeing Christ roll the stone from his tomb. That was the moment I believed.
For a lucky few life is a series of exciting adventures punctuated by brief moments of recuperation. It was our time to rest and gain strength for the battles ahead. While the outcome was in doubt, we knew that we would face the challenges with courage, with heart, and with faith.
The Book of Cassandra, New Revelation