

BLACK*HONEY 3

THE AUDACITY OF SLAVES

By Dennis Osondu

Edited by Lashawn Gholson

Copyright 2013 by Dennis Osondu

SMASHWORDS Edition 4/2013

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be given away or resold to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please have them go to smashwords.com and let them get their own copy.

Thanks.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This is without a doubt the most controversial urban fiction novel you will ever read. I caution you that many of the ideas presented here, may shock you. Some of the language may shock you. I make no apologies for the writing, but make no mistake about it, this is the new template for urban fiction.

Accept no substitutes.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

For Lashawn Gholson

1.

Get Ready, Get Set...

A huge, white pigeon suddenly flew past the Camelot Hotel and eighteen-year old David Jackson watched it go, its gray wings flapping as it swerved out of sight high above his dirty brick building.

As he yawned, a blur of darkness shifted beneath his nose and he glanced down at a revolting sight. A wave of disgust immediately swept through him, and it felt like things were crawling on the back of his neck and all across his scalp. He scratched violently at his head.

"Oh shit!" he moaned, staring down at the pavement in horror. And thought: When the fuck did this happen?

Manny was right, it really had gotten much worse and seemingly overnight! It looked so bad, so disgusting actually, he caught the willies for the first time in his entire life.

He had never seen anything even remotely like this; dozens of rats raced from the garbage bags piled at the curb and back to the shelter. Then a dozen more raced the opposite way.

They were squeaking as they scrambled into a dark hole they'd made in the ground about three inches from the stoop, and they were filthy. The matted fur covering their nasty humped backs looked like rusty old Brillo pads, to David. Like the ones his mother would leave in a small plastic container after she finished washing dishes.

Some of them were carrying pieces of garbage, but he couldn't tell what it was; only that it was white and stringy looking. He thought it may have been spaghetti.

But, plump, gray rats with pale feet and rust colored tails, were everywhere. David thought the fleshy pink sacs dragging behind some of them, the males most likely, actually looked like it might be painful. Like the skin should be scraping off on the dirty cement as they ran.

He shivered, watching one rat suddenly sit up and start cleaning its mangy fur like a ferret.

The rats were inside the bags too; he saw them pushing against the material as they explored the jungles of foul debris. And when he looked carefully, he also saw the ragged shreds of plastic indicating the holes they'd made while the streets were black and silent.

David found it exceedingly creepy knowing those same teeth could bite right through concrete like it was cotton-candy if they wanted. Or even right through the flesh and bones of a person, if necessary.

The library book had said so.

But, he didn't need to read it in a book, because they had certainly done it before. When they finally found the missing child back in 1986, a rat was poking its furry head out of the little girl's mouth.

The rookie cop's flashlight reflected in the rat's eyes, startling the both of them, long before he'd noticed her half-eaten body.

They'd found the girl's rotting corpse around midnight, and according to one officer, the rat had apparently been in the process of eating the little girl's lips and nose. In fact, had already eaten most of the lips.

There was even a photo of the child's body, minus the rat, that had chilled his heart. It happened a long time ago, years before David was even born. But, he'd just recently read about it on the New York Post microfilms they kept in the library.

He came across the story while doing research for his new novel, and it said the body was discovered in some abandoned building in Harlem, but the actual address was never given.

The article beneath the photo only said the place was teeming with rodents and that an investigation was ongoing. As far as David knew, the investigation was still ongoing; even over twenty years later.

But, it was never mentioned again in the local papers.

The horrid image was still with him too; maybe because he'd had a hard time figuring out which parts of the little girl's badly mangled body in the photo, were which.

"They really multiply in the summer bro!" Manny had informed him one warm, star filled night in March.

David had just come back from buying a double blunt wrap, and a six-pack of ice-cold Natural Lights, and the man had stopped him on the hotel's front steps. He walked him into the building while talking incessantly.

He was the Camelot's janitor; a balding Puerto Rican man of medium height who waddled like a penguin when he walked.

"So I'm putting down some shit to kill the little fuckers!" he'd said, grinning. "Some new shit called Pest B-Gone, it's supposedly some real deadly shit, bro!"

"Will that work?" David had asked him. He sometimes found it difficult understanding what Manny was saying unless he pronounced his words slowly.

"Will it kill them? Hell-fucking-yes bro!" he'd said, snapping his fingers. "Like that!" he added and smiled. "But, I think Raymond's almost trying to breed 'em and shit, bro! I ain't never seen 'em multiply like this; it must be hundreds of 'em!"

Manny had broken into wild peals of laughter, and then immediately went back to his earlier, somber demeanor as he continued mopping the lobby.

Manny had seemed okay to him at first, but his attitude switched with each morning, sometimes switched as the morning went along, so David never knew what to expect.

Now, he took another quick count of the rats he could see running back and forth below him and whispered, "Oh shit, it fucking can't be!"

But it was, and when the wind gusted into the building, the flat odor that struck him, immediately made him hold his breath. He was standing in the Camelot's doorway, using his body to block the glass door which prevented it from shutting.

David quickly covered his mouth with both hands and stared down at the black bags lining the sidewalk.

It really smelled like something had crawled into the trash and died. What did the book say? he thought. Neeq Snagem? For every rat I see in the street, five more are hiding close by?

David shivered, did another quick calculation, just to make sure, and came up with over a hundred rats! Lurking somewhere, perhaps watching him from the shadows right now. And he thought he could almost feel them looking. It was a feeling similar to the one he would get while checking out the latest video games at the mall. The security guard in the GAMESTOP there, would follow him around as if he'd been told to watch out for him. Kids had sticky fingers.

But, after reading that stuff about the rats, he no longer took dark cracks along the edges of abandoned buildings for granted. But, the disgusting poisoned rodents (poisoned thanks to Manny, of course) were now streaking around the trash as he watched.

They were squealing, and squirming in and out of the ripped up plastic like circus rats.

A few were transporting the stringy white stuff back to the hole, and David couldn't help thinking of the squirrels in the park across the street preparing for a long, cold winter.

Only, he knew these rodents would never be considered cute by little old white ladies carrying paper bags filled with peanuts.

David grinned, and with that image firmly in his mind, he pushed through the glass door, jogged down the crumbling flight of concrete steps, and headed for the subway station.

He got another foul whiff as soon as he touched the pavement and grimaced slightly, his scalp still itching. He made an effort to ignore his discomfort and instead, he focused on his current destination: the underground C train at the end of the next corner.

Distance-wise, it was the equivalent of five city blocks away. He'd always hated traveling (especially when he had to go extremely far to places he didn't want to be}, but he was looking forward to it this time, and that was true even though he hadn't ridden a subway train in nine long years.

Because this time, he was meeting up with Vince and together they would ride the C train downtown to go find his destiny.

Like two intrepid explorers setting out on a wondrous and magical journey, they were. So magical, that the ramifications of them actually having success at the end of the journey, were too incredible to fully consider.

He thought his new plan was a sound one, even if it was a little crazy. (At least, he knew Paris would think so; she thought all of his ideas were a little crazy.) And of course, Vince had already expressed his reservations with David's plan while they were smoking in Vince's room one night.

"It sounds very fucking dangerous!" he'd said. "You sure about this shit, nigger? I mean, have you really thought about it David? Or are you just acting on impulse again? It's because of those fucking scary dreams, isn't it?"

Yes, good 'ole Vince had expressed his concern. Sometimes, it seemed that the boy thought he was his parent, or at least an older brother, even though they were the same age.

But, by the end of that day, if everything worked out as he'd so painstakingly planned, he would be closer than ever to meeting the new love of his life. And, he most definitely didn't mean Paris!

No. The new love of his life was none other than the sweet-faced-goddess, actress Lorna London.

2.

The Journey Begins

David usually strolled, but he felt energized today (more energized than he'd felt in a while), so his pace was a near running walk. The street was empty in both directions, so he glanced up at the sky again and could now see a definite darkness gathering in the west.

It was a faint circular smudge, like a stain caused by a messy child's finger paint, he thought. He heard a low rumbling sound, like distant thunder, coming from over the lake located far beneath that slowly drifting smudge; and the sound seemed to be getting closer.

"Hope it doesn't come 'til midnight," he whispered. "If we d don't catch one by then, we can forget it anyway, and I know how lazy Vince can be!"

Oh fuck! he thought suddenly. There I go again!

David clapped one hand over his mouth, thinking of Paris. He often spoke out loud when feeling anxious, and she always complained about it. Like clockwork, in fact.

"Can you stop that annoying shit nigger?" she'd ask. "Always mumbling and shit, retarded asshole. You know what you sound like? A fucking lunatic, that's what!"

Paris's eyes always resembled chips of jade when she cursed at him too; chips of pale frozen jade. And she could convey an amazing range of emotions with those frigid jade eyes of hers.

David removed his hand from his mouth, and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed him do it. But there was no one in sight, so he kept on walking.

The stench of sardines seemed to surround him as he walked, clearly stirred up by the rising winds. He inhaled deeply, as if admiring a girl's perfume.

Except, this wasn't the kind of fragrance they would sell at Macys or on the Home Shopping Network. And it definitely wasn't Lorna London's new perfume: Nubian Sunrise. Paris wore it so often he'd come to associate the scent with her more than with Lorna London.

But mixed in with the fish odor, was the scent of peanut butter and David figured Paris would slap the shit our of him for using the last of her Jiffy's (damn, can that bitch hit! he thought), but he didn't care.

The dreams were now much too vivid to care; too filled with shit he kept thinking of at the oddest times.

He knew it was all connected somehow—the horrid dreams, and finding the book on rats. Especially, his idea to write a novel based on Lorna London.

None of it was coincidence and he felt reasonably sure of that. The only problem was that he couldn't figure out what the hell it all meant!

He felt his back pocket, heard a slight rustling sound (like plastic), and walked even faster. All around him the city was slowly awakening and familiar sounds were unfolding in the air like petals on a magician's bouquet. Or like a radio slowly being turned up, he thought and grinned.

He knew the early forecast had called for rain and that was a sobering thought, rain might ruin his plans. Especially, if they happened to find one just before it started falling, which was something he could already imagine happening.

The book never said how fast it could move, but he couldn't imagine it being very fast. Not all knotted together like that and he was actually surprised it could move at all.

He glanced down at the pavement as he walked, his vivid imagination already misbehaving; already conjuring up rats charging at him from the shadows down on Gold Street.

David had scoped out the entire area, so he knew there would be plenty of shadows tonight. Particularly where they were going. It hadn't been so bad in the daylight, but the old buildings that far downtown, turned decidedly spooky once the sun had set.

Sudden, loud music approached him from behind, jerking him from those thoughts. A green Hummer blasting: "I'll Whip Yo Head Boy! You know I will!" blew by in the street on a violent rush of sound.

Sunshine winked off chrome trimming as the vehicle rounded the corner far down the block, its back wheels screeching like a race car's. A dirty gray cloud was left behind to evaporate in the seasonably warm air.

David looked up as he kept walking, half covering his eyes. The storm was still far away, and a bright ball of orange light blazed against a background of faded blue. A warm gust of wind blew across his head.

I should go back, he thought, to get my Mets cap and shades because the sun will only be getting worse. Plus—

David suddenly jerked his head to the left and glanced at the building he was walking by, but had been barely noticing until that moment. He thought he'd just heard low whispers for a second; like a group of people talking quietly in a coffee shop!

But then, the sounds were gone, if he had really heard them at all. David frowned, guessing it was only the wind which was steadily getting stronger, and released a deep sigh.

Fucking Paris! he thought. If we find that shit, I swear, I should keep right on going. Leave your annoying ass right the fuck here and shit!

For all David really knew, Paris had been wide awake when he left this morning. After they fought, she often feigned sleep to avoid speaking to him.

But yesterday's argument had been really bad and had started right after he told her some of his plan. Not everything of course, but just enough to get her started. He really should have seen it coming but unfortunately, he simply hadn't.

"I'm taking the C with Vince," he'd said. "Tomorrow, and we're going down to Gold Street. I'll probably be back real late so don't wait up, and lock the door."

Paris had slowly sat up in the bed, staring at him as if he'd suddenly started speaking French, he thought.

"What?" she asked him, putting down her remote control, and scowling at him. (This was how David thought of it too, as hers. He actually thought of everything they owned, as hers.)

But every time she'd asked him to ride the train in the past nine years, David had quickly refused.

So she clearly couldn't understand what the hell he was saying. He had kicked himself mentally for not realizing how she would react, too.

"Are you fucking crazy?" she said. "Since when do you take trains? Are you losing your mind nigger? Since when do you just make up plans and go? Huh?"

"Since when?" David asked, still holding the digital video camera he planned on filming the Rat King with. "Since I decided I want to!" he said, curtly. "Who are you, my mother? It's not like I'm asking you to come with me, why do you even care?"

"Why do I even care?" she'd said, still glaring at him, and slowly getting up from the bed. Paris stalked over to David and stopped right in front of him. She was much taller than the boy and her huge tits were poking right in his face, now.

"Because I'm supposed to be your fucking wife!" she said, glowering down at him. "Right nigger?"

David snickered and turned away. "We're not actually married yet," he said. And that was really all it took for her to erupt. He often called her Mount Saint Paris, but only inside his mind where such thoughts were safest.

"Fuck you!" she yelled, shoving David in the back, making the boy nearly fly across the room. "You little fucking pussy!" she shouted. "I oughta smack you for that shit, nigger!"

"You better watch it!" he'd said, backing up against the wall and staring up at her. "Go on and keep assaulting me, Paris!" David had laughed mirthlessly. "You won't like it if I call the cops," he said. "Or leave your ass in here by your fucking self! Maybe you could go shack up with Raymond!"

Paris suddenly flashed out with one hand, and the violent slap rocked David's head backwards! He stumbled over a chair and nearly dropped his camera again. The blood pouring from his stinging nose tasted salty.

"Why'd you do that!" he cried in a muffled voice. "I told you about hitting me, Paris! Don't make me—"

This time, the slap knocked him flat, and David wished he could take the words back, but it was much too late for taking things back.

Paris was extremely nasty in a fight; but then, it wasn't really much of a fight, was it?

Paris was six-foot six, weighed one hundred and eighty pounds, and was an ex-female boxer, heavy-weight division. David was five-six, weighed a buck fifty soaking wet, and when she was through with him, he was groveling at her small bare feet like a cowering dog.

Touching most of his face afterwards had felt like feeling the dry, lumpy skin of a human toad.

"That's what the fuck you get for talking slick!" she'd said, rolling down her shirt sleeves. "I told you I'm not having that bullshit. I look way too good for that shit nigger and I don't even need a fucking man and definitely not your tiny dicked, wimp ass!"

Paris was constantly talking about pretty females being on her shit; saying how much they would love to get with her. David knew it was true, because they fawned over her, and followed her around Harlem like lost puppies.

He thought the much shorter women looked more like her children, even though most of them were over ten years older than her.

Now, David exhaled, and walked towards the throng of people rushing upstairs from the subway station. From the underground C train right in front of Kathy's shop.

Some walked in his direction, others crossed Blake Street, or strode up to Avon Boulevard. He watched as a short, brown skinned girl with huge breasts, exited the station and he immediately thought of Paris's nipples poking from her blue tank top on that horrible afternoon.

Sighing again, David kept on going as another gust of warm air swept past him, carrying a scintillating cinnamon aroma that enveloped him in a cloud he could almost taste. His mouth watered as he easily identified the vanilla and whipped butter Kathy baked into her delicious pastries.

It was a glorious smell that lit up the entire block, reminding him of cookies, and muffins, and cake. It was coming from Kathy's Kitchen and he saw the store just up ahead, where the green awning cast a circle of shade directly over the glass door.

He also saw a bright red octagon as he neared the store; it resembled a stop sign, and it was hanging on the glass facing the sidewalk. David smiled, knowing the sign meant Kathy's would be closed until ten o'clock.

When he looked down at the area right outside the glass door, he saw that her blue welcome mat wasn't out yet. She normally put it out around nine forty-five or so, which meant he was early by a full two hours.

It read ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK! in white script letters that had immediately caught his attention.

Mrs. O'Megan told him she purchased it in a thrift store when he'd asked, but something about the mat continually drew his eye. Perhaps, it was the ugly skull and crossbones depicted right above the slogan?

David didn't know, but he thought it was a rather strange doormat to place outside of a bakery, or any food establishment for that matter. And if he didn't happen to live in the area and already know her, he doubted if he would have ever eaten there. He always thought of dusty bottles of poison sitting on a dirty shelf when he saw the store.

Out in the street, a yellow Daily News truck zoomed by blaring a frantic horn, and David turned in that direction. He saw a young white girl in tight blue jeans hanging from the truck's side door. She was smiling, and waving frantically at people she must have known, because they waved right back.

David thought she had a gorgeous ass, and her long blond hair was blowing back in the wind, exposing a pale, extremely pretty face. He watched the truck speed off, enjoying how the white girl's ass was bouncing as she held on to the truck for dear life.

Somewhere off in the distance, a shrill whistle blew, and it was a startlingly loud sound that made him flinch. He could easily picture the cop, or perhaps a crossing guard, holding up white gloved hands and frantically waving motorists over to the left or right lanes.

He smirked, finally nearing the train station, now. David had just imagined his mother's angry face too; and her huge, painted lips, which were always twisted into a grimace. As if she smelled something rotten wherever she went.

Maybe, it's your upper lip? he'd think sometimes, laughing to himself. He often wondered if his mother was even aware of how ugly she looked when she sneered like that, because she did it all the time.

But his mother had repeatedly said:

"There ain't no money in writing boy! You crazy? Not for no black folks, that's a waste of fucking time! You better get yourself a good city job and quit with the fucking dreaming."

She would undoubtedly be cooking something or other at the time, and she would say: "Dreams don't pay no fucking bills, boy! It ain't like you no Tyler Perry no way, and gone be hob-knobbing with Oprah on yo yacht and shit!"

David didn't know about hob-knobbing with Oprah, and he didn't consider Tyler Perry a novel writer, he was a playwright and a director, and more of an inspiration to him, than anything. His five hundred million grossed, was nothing to scoff at, and he gave fine black women work. That alone, made him pretty cool with David.

But, David hadn't quit with the fucking dreaming. In fact, thanks to Lorna London, he believed the dream would soon become a reality.

He thought he owed it all to her, to a beautiful black actress, for breaking his nasty spell of writer's block.

Somehow, seeing her face on that newspaper had done it when nothing else would.

Bleating horns suddenly came from the general direction of the shrill whistle sound, and David also imagined a long line of vehicles over there, impatiently waiting for the other vehicles to pass. He could even see the scowling faces of the still half-asleep drivers sitting behind the long row of dusty windshields.

The boy grinned, and walked a little faster. The day was perfectly pleasant so far, and if the gods were on his side, The Gods Of Aspiring Writers, the fair weather would last. Because if not, there was simply no telling what could go wrong.

He didn't try to ignore the many dangers he and his best friend were about to face. The horde of rats in the book had nearly killed the author on that last terrifying night down in the dark city.

3.

The Setting

David's building was on West Blake Street. He knew that the building on his left, the one he saw after leaving the stoop, was totally vacant. The unsightly pile of bricks spanned the entire block down to Avon Boulevard where traffic lights winked and blinked.

Long before it reached Avon, one lone establishment broke the monotony of dingy wall. A wall with peculiar slogans like: Sagittarius REX! written on it in glossy black spray paint. He thought the building resembled something God had carelessly dropped from the sky.

Windows covered with black plastic peered down at the sidewalk like spiteful eyes; weeds and bushes grew in ragged clumps along the filthy edges of the building. A collection of dusty green bottles, and empty crack vials had been deposited along the base of the wall, giving the area a depressing, almost neglected, look.

Walking past the abandoned building and the hotel that came next, was unpleasant for some people. Some claimed there seemed to be a strange pocket of coldness along that entire long street; almost like walking through a black hole.

Everybody who passed by didn't feel it but quite a few did. Other people claimed to have even heard weird voices whispering while they walked past it.

It had apparently become something of an urban legend in the area, and David knew that many avoided that side of the street altogether.

But, those who didn't, usually clutched their purses, or checked their wallets (as if the owners of those invisible voices were actually evil pilfering spirits) as they hurried by the hotel.

David looked down as he reached the subway station, and saw a vast scattering of broken glass covering the pavement like twinkling diamonds.

He crunched through the tiny fragments, and thought of walking over rock salt during the winter, because when the snow finally came back around, this simple trip would become treacherous. The blanched concrete was badly broken in some places, and missing entire sections in others.

But when he glanced across Blake Street, David thought the strip of sidewalk over on that side seemed to belong to a completely different neighborhood.

A place where wealthy white people probably lived, and he always found the difference striking. He never saw rats over there, and the smooth unbroken sidewalks were always immaculate, the perfect rectangles of grass, always so neatly trimmed.

The only smell was the smell of freshly cut lawns and he saw no trash bags at all. Not even one, as if those rich white people didn't make trash. Unlike over at the Camelot Hotel (where there were no white people at all) where they seemed to manufacture the black trash bags as well as the stinking trash to go in them, on a daily basis.

He and Paris lived in room 300, the smallest unit in the entire rundown shelter. Their single window provided the view of a shabby brown building located just beyond his ledge. Close enough to touch if he leaned out far enough.

Close enough to actually climb onto if necessary. It had rusty, black fire-escapes and white clothing hanging from dirty ropes someone had attached to metal rods. David thought of those fire escapes as he passed the brick building and finally stopped at the subway station.

He thought of his manuscript that had somehow vanished from their tiny, roach and mouse-infested room, too. He had gone to sleep one night after reading it, and started dreaming of her, as usual. But when he awoke the next morning, it had simply been gone.

"No I didn't see the shit!" Paris had said after he'd mentioned it. "And stop bothering me about it nigger! Maybe Lorna London took it motherfucker!"

David's first reaction had been to run over to the window and stare down at the fire escape. Could someone have broken in somehow and stolen it?

He didn't know, and it was the only thing that was bothering him on this fine spring day. The only thing keeping the hot and sunny morning from being perfect.

He noticed that the boulevard up ahead was filled with slow moving traffic. People were walking back and forth on both sides of the street, but they didn't seem to be in much of a hurry this morning.

David's head suddenly snapped down as if attached to puppet strings, and he glared into the dark subway entrance. A gust of hot air had blown up the stairs, disturbing pieces of paper and filling the atmosphere with dust.

The stinking odor whipped about his head like invisible flags in the heat. He closed his eyes, covering his mouth with one hand. But, too late.

David grimaced as the pungent odor of tar and piss smacked him nearly senseless. He glanced to his left at Kathy's Kitchen where the fabulous aroma of cinnamon buns had come from. The small bakery's window was glinting in the dazzling morning sunshine.

Through the window, he saw a short woman with curly blond hair; her name was Kathy O'Megan.

She had a kind face, and she was currently lifting chairs off the top of a wooden table. David found her somewhat attractive, but felt her nearly lash less blue eyes, were lovely. They were the color of robin eggs, he thought, and he usually chatted with her when he had the time. Mostly to look at her eyes.

But, he forgot the harsh odor for a moment, and remembered the fuss she'd made over Paris's eyes that day over a year ago. Over Paris period, to be truthful.

Ironically, it was her idea to drop by Kathy's Kitchen that quiet Friday morning, though David hadn't felt like meeting anyone so soon after arriving at the Camelot. But she simply hadn't cared, Paris rarely considered his feelings.

"She's so beautiful!" Mrs. O'Megan had kept saying, as if David had given birth to her. As if Paris wasn't standing right there and looking pissed.

"Look at that face and those gorgeous eyes!" she said. "Can we share them? I swear, you can have them back baby, just consider it a loan!"

David recalled the old woman having to look straight up to see Paris's wry smile after asking her incredibly strange question. Mrs. O'Megan was even shorter than he was, but probably weighed twice as much.

And Paris...well, Paris was extremely tall. Much like Paris Jackson, at only fourteen she'd been taller than most grown men (he'd seen pictures of her proving that), but she was now fully grown.

David kept staring through the bakery's window at Mrs. O'Megan, remembering her rather weird behavior that day. Even remembering the white box of jelly doughnuts she kept offering Paris afterwards. Paris really wanted to take them too, but David didn't think it was such a hot idea. Not after what he'd seen.

He couldn't stop picturing the way the woman's face had changed. It reminded him of the scene in The Lord Of The Rings where Bilbo Baggins snarled at Frodo over the special ring. Perhaps, while they were recuperating in Lothlorien, the Elven kingdom.

Mrs. O'Megan had started laughing hysterically and grabbed at Paris's chin with her gnarled, liver-spotted hands. When Paris abruptly leaned away from the old woman, grimacing, she reminded David of her again. And, the resemblance really was unsettling.

Actually kind of eerie (that Vince had noticed it too, was the only thing that saved his sanity). But, for just a moment that morning, David thought the old woman, despite her cackling laughter, was dead serious about her crazy question.

That she really did want to rip Paris's eyes from her head, and maybe put them in some of her cupcakes or something equally weird. Her own blue eyes seemed to harden as she asked the question, and a grim shadow had fallen over her bright smile.

Then, the moment passed, and Mrs. O'Megan was just as pleasant as always. Paris didn't notice any of this because she wasn't looking at her.

But, the old woman had kept caressing Paris's arm, and even offered her a job as a helper, which only meant she didn't know anything at all about his girlfriend.

Paris of course, had quickly declined.

"Are you sure?" Mrs. O'Megan asked her. "I could really use your help sweetie. It gets busy in here during the summer months and rather lonely once the crowds go home. And you live so close to me baby; your gorgeous face would really brighten up this dreary place."

She smiled, shyly. "I could stare at you all day, if I wasn't careful," she said.

"No thank you," Paris told her. "We just got here, and need a little time to settle in. But if I ever change my mind, I'll definitely call you first since I have your number."

Mrs. O'Megan didn't react to Paris's voice that time, David recalled. But, as soon as Paris had said good morning, the old woman had gasped with shock. (Feigned shock, he would think later; she hadn't really been shocked at all.)

But, for the second time that day, Mrs. O'Megan's pleasantly smiling face had turned angry, and David was sure of it. It suddenly seemed to twist and darken, her blue eyes actually seeming to glow. The kind of glow normally associated with candles, he'd thought.

David had chalked it up to her disappointment over Paris's refusal of the job offer (which hadn't made a lick of sense, of course), and didn't think about it again.

It was a mistake he would regret in exactly three days. (It was a mistake that in truth, would nearly kill him, Vince and Little Sonia.)

But right now, Mrs. O'Megan was only smiling, and was apparently singing to herself as she prepared her shop for the day's business. David could hear loud music coming from inside the shop; what appeared to be Prince's magnificent love ballad, Adore.

David was surprised to hear it thumping through her windows, and wished she would look up just once so he could wave to her. She didn't, she just kept singing, and wiping down a round table with her white rag.

When David viewed the other side of Blake Street, grinning himself now, he was no longer thinking of what he'd witnessed on that Friday morning nearly a year ago to this day. Instead, he thought about the white people he saw in spandex body suits and colorful helmets riding their expensive all-terrain bicycles.

Some people walked dogs, a few were rollerblading down the freshly paved road while listening to I-pods. Some were slipping in and out of traffic like fools.

One was a tall blond woman in red and black polka-dot shorts, and a red tank-top; she was pumping her fists in the air, as she navigated the obstacle course of sidewalk pedestrians.

Directly opposite Kathy's Kitchen, across Blake, was a grassy area that always reminded David of barbecues and picnics. It was Central Park, and the entire park was kept clean from Fifty-Eighth Street, up to One Hundred-Tenth Street.

But, this grass always seemed greener, to him; as if the city considered this half of the park (and the people who lived there) somehow more important.

People were also walking along cement paths, he saw, paths which led down to a lake that stretched far across the vast landscape. One young couple were holding hands, and were standing down by the edge of the water. From where David stood, they resembled overly fascinated European tourists. The kind he always came across downtown in the financial district.

David glanced to the left into the park, and saw more people sitting on wooden benches. Some were idly staring at the water, or tossing crumbs to flocks of pigeons. Fat birds bobbed and strutted, fighting over the bread like street gladiators.

Behind the benches, bushy-tailed squirrels darted across the lawn, and up into the maple trees hanging overhead. The squirrels rarely crossed the path, and never approached the edges of the lake, where long weeds stuck up from smelly, stagnant water.

Plenty of people in the area complained to Mayor Bloomberg about the smell, but the wildlife didn't seem to mind. Plump swans were now floating on the serene lake just like every morning, their long necks hooked into ivory question marks.

The sour breeze ruffled their brilliant white feathers as brown sparrows and black starlings, dipped past overhead and all around them. The smaller birds sang to the sun, skimming across the green surface, busily searching for mosquitoes and flies.

David suddenly felt a deep sense of hope spring into his heart as he stood at the entrance to the subway, gazing across the street into the park.

He couldn't help feeling that things were finally changing for the better.

When David turned back to the sky, soaking in the view of pale heavens and vibrant sunshine stretching off in every direction, he suddenly thought of Lorna London's eyes. The eyes that had seemed to call to him from that astonishing photo; she was a gorgeous black girl with sexy dimples and stunning brown eyes.

"I can't fucking wait!" he whispered. "Lorna London, here I come, Ms. Oh So Fucking Beautiful!"

When he regarded the station's entrance again, his smile faded, and the chuckle dried up like the pavement after a sun shower. It was extremely dark down there, he thought, and disquietingly still.

David frowned, staring down into the darkness. He pictured some dangerous animal crouching in its murky depths, perhaps a mountain lion. Or a python that was eating villagers in some weird place he would only visit in bad dreams. A place where strange people ate giant wiggling bugs off of cracked plates, perhaps.

He walked away from the entrance, taking deep breaths, trying to replace the subway odor with fresh spring air. But the scent was already down his lungs, he could taste it when he smacked his lips together.

David frowned harder, a low groan slipping from him. He walked back to the entrance and peered down again. This was going to be a long trip, and he hated riding trains.

"Maybe I should have asked Paris to come after all?" he whispered to himself. "Damn it!"

David reached into the pocket of his denim jeans and produced a blue Nokia cell phone. A cream complexioned girl with a curly brown ponytail was on the screen saver; the picture was of her face and the very tops of her slim shoulders. She was smiling pleasantly, and full red lips glistened beneath a dainty, perfect nose.

It was Paris Brown, his twenty-five year old wife, though they weren't technically married. Something Paris could remind him of whenever it suited her, but went ballistic over if he ever brought it up.

But facially, Paris was a carbon copy of Lorna London; something David hadn't been able to grasp at first and still wasn't completely used to.

But it was true, except Paris was six-foot six, had green eyes, and didn't have Lorna London's dark, glossy hair.

Plus, he thought Paris's complexion was closer to the hot Claudia Jordan's, while Lorna London was rather pale skinned for a black girl.

David glared down at the tiny image of Paris, trying to control his anger, trying to remember the time when he wasn't so fucking pissed at her. And he could too, because it was only a few days ago.

But he could mostly hear her deep, angry voice; a voice much deeper than Lorna London's, and his anger returned in a hot flash. Why the fuck can't I change my mind? he thought. She's always bossing me the fuck around!

This was the truth and he knew it.

It was no different on the day she flipped because he was taking a train. She was in full boss-mode on that day.

"You're a fucking lair!" Paris had screamed. "I oughta beat your pussy ass up again nigger!"

She had thrown the remote control at him even as he crouched on the floor, but he easily ducked it. This was right after she had smacked him the second time, and then proceeded to royally fuck him up. It had been like Brutus pummeling Popeye before he got to eat his can of spinach.

"Stop playing yourself!" he'd told her. "Lorna London's a grown assed woman, not a childish brat! You're nothing like her! And you'll never be like her!"

"Brat this, faggot!" she yelled.

She hated it when he did that, compared them. Paris started hurling things at his head; a hairbrush, magazines from off the night table beside the bed. He barely made it out the door without getting hit, and stayed down in the lobby for forty minutes, waiting for her anger to subside.

When he finally crept back into the room, the silent treatment had already begun.

Now, David inhaled and exhaled loudly. Flipping open the phone, her image vanished and he touched a button that made the "recent calls" list appear.

He scrolled through it and when he finally reached what he was searching for, way down in the V's, he hit the send button.

4.

TALKING TO VINCE

The phone immediately started burring in his ear, and when he heard the footsteps behind him, David jerked his head around, instantly smelling strong cologne as a man brushed past. He had heard his heavy breathing long before he felt the slight push, but hadn't turned fast enough to avoid contact.

The man seemed to be in quite a hurry. He wore a white tank top, knee high shorts, and beige work boots. He was ducking his head (almost as if trying to hide his face, David thought) as he rushed by.

"Pardon me," the guy muttered. And, David stepped aside in case other people were coming, but the man was all alone. The sidewalk was completely barren except for Mr. Frod who he could now see standing in front of the Camelot Hotel. Frod was shielding his eyes from the sunrays with one hand, while peering down the block at him.

David wondered where he came from, because he wasn't anywhere around when he first left the shelter. Even the lobby had been dark and totally silent; the lobby floor was damp and the smell of Manny's bleach and pine had filled the stuffy air.

Raymond Frod was manager at the Camelot Hotel. He must have just pulled up in his blue Ford Taurus, David thought, although he didn't see it in front of the building. Maybe he parked across the street where it's cleaner? he mused. That would be just like him, the stuck up, nosy motherfucker.

His official title was: Real Property Manager, and it was his duty to keep law and order in the shelter, a task he often took much too seriously, in David's estimation.

But, he wondered again if the Jewish man who owned the Camelot knew about his loan sharking, crack selling, and other illegal activities. Raymond Frod didn't seem to think his own actions broke the Jewish man's rules.

Now, David turned back to the subway as the man walked into the dark entrance, and disappeared. A leather backpack was strapped to his sweaty brown shoulders, and the shadows seemed to swallow him up along with the bag.

David suddenly heard a metallic, squealing noise, right below him. It was the steady rumble and grumble of approaching subway cars.

These same sounds were much spookier late at night. But, even in the dazzling sunshine, the racket made his heart beat faster. In his ear, someone finally answered the phone, startling him.

David wondered what had taken him so fucking long to answer, but he knew exactly who it was.

"Hello?" It was a young boy's voice; light and almost feminine. "Hello? Who's this?" the voice said.

"Vince?" David said, adjusting the small phone on his ear. "What's up, kid? It's me."

"Oh what's up, Davey Dee?" Vince said.

David felt a rush of excitement. "You ready, son?" he asked. "Cause I am, I feel something good's coming!"

There was a slight pause. David heard low, mumbling voices and laughter in the background. Vince asked: "Where the hell are you, nigger?"

David heard the multitude of voices gradually fading away. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm still on the block, but I'm coming right now. If you're at the station already, don't leave. And I mean it, son."

Vince laughed through the phone. "Yeah, okay," he said, "cool. You at the train station? Sounds like I can hear one somewhere."

He obviously meant a train and David was stunned. He could hear the C beneath the street himself, shrieking and hissing like a water hose someone had left on going full blast. But, he didn't think Vince should be able to!

"That's the C train," David said. "Damn, you've got some good fucking ears nigger!"

Vince laughed again. "I can't wait to get there," he said. "It's been so fucking long since I left Harlem. Damn, feels like I haven't been to lower Manhattan in years. I keep thinking of Kurt Russell in Escape From New York."

He chuckled. "Only it's more like Escape To Lower Manhattan," he said, "or Escape From Harlem. I wonder how it looks now." Vince laughed some more.

David joined in the laughter. "I know what you mean man," he said, "I feel like a little kid again, going on a field trip and shit. Like when our class went to Flushing Meadows Park? That's the year you fell in that hole."

"I remember that," Vince said. "I still can't believe you got me trying to catch rats though, and looking for secret rat kingdoms and shit. I should have my fucking head examined!" There was a short pause, and then: "Did you take the bait?" he asked David. "Or did Paris catch you and go ballistic on your black ass?"

It was all actually David's idea. After reading the library book about rats, Neeq Snagem, he suddenly wanted to go catch them. Paris said the rats infesting the shelter were probably affecting him subconsciously.

She said he had been searching for a book about them, and just didn't realize it. That would also explain the strange nightmares, she'd said. David had wondered if Lorna London was a fucking know-it-all, too. (It was pretty obvious to him that the lovely actress was opinionated.)

But, Paris couldn't explain why the book was in the writing aisle if she was right. Someone had obviously put it there, instead of where it really belonged: The Pet and Wildlife section, so it had nothing to do with dreams.

David had enjoyed sharing that little nugget of information with her. It wasn't very often he got to throw cold water on her unsolicited theories.

Surprisingly, the book wasn't boring like David thought it would be. As it turned out, rats were very interesting creatures; not just the disease-ridden pests described in monthly newscasts.

They were intelligent and inventive when it came to survival. These traits happened to appeal to David. They would most likely be the last creatures standing no matter what happened to the planet.

But, what had really attracted him to the rodents, were the ideas of a Rat King, and especially, a hidden rat kingdom. A place that only existed in rumors dating back as far as the late 1800's according to the book.

He even felt like a Witwicky straight out of the first Transformers movie, when he first saw the map. "I've got it," David said now. Referring to the tinfoil he'd stuffed in his back pocket earlier that morning. "And, Paris doesn't know."

According to the book, some of a rat's favorite foods were sardines, Vienna sausages, and peanut butter. After getting the fish and the sausages (Paris already had the jar of Jiffy's), David chopped them into a thick paste, rolled it up into a ball, and tied it with thread.

The tinfoil was inside of a small Ziploc bag to stop it from stinking and David thought it would have worked better than this; but the odor was already becoming conspicuous and he could smell it when the hot wind blew."You got your stuff?" David asked, imitating the coke dealer on Scarface. "Where's yo stuff man?"

"The traps?" Vince said. "Yeah, I've got 'em."

David heard a loud rattling noise, like a fence makes if you shake it really hard. "Hear that shit?" Vince said. "I thought he had five, but I only found two. They were in the closet right beneath my mom's old picnic blankets."

"Two's fine," David said. "If we get to use one, we'll be damn lucky; but I really think we will be."

The book said it was nearly impossible to catch city rats in a trap, though the author supposedly caught lots of them using traps. He wrote that rats were wary of new objects placed in their environment; and if they currently had a good source of food, they normally shunned foods they weren't used to seeing in the area.

The author also said that the restaurants down there around Gold Street were rather lax about how they disposed of leftover meats, pastas, and vegetables. So the alleyways were basically rat buffet tables.

But, with a little elbow grease, David knew months of fruitless observation could have easily been avoided. David planned on cleaning the area in advance. The tools were already down there.

"What about the flashlights?" David said now. "I don't care. I'm staying all night until I catch one, so don't forget them. You can leave or do whatever you want."

"You mean a King Rat, don't you?" Vince asked. "You still thinking about that disgusting shit, man?"

"Rat King," David corrected him. "Paris's going to die when she sees it too. I can't wait to get her ass!"

Vince made a strange sound and it took a second to realize his friend was reacting to the idea of a Rat King. "You mean if she sees it," Vince said. "Why didn't he include a picture in his book? Not even one? Don't you find that kind of suspicious? I do."

"The guy never saw one," David said. "Some people he interviewed described it to him. I told you that. I suppose, he could have had someone draw it for him, but..."

This time, David clearly heard his friend gagging. "No thanks! I don't want to see it," Vince said. "But, what if you really do catch one, are you going to take it back to the fucking shelter? Keep it as a pet and shit?"

It was clearly a joke, Vince was constantly telling him to be careful around the Camelot Hotel.

David didn't reply; he closed his eyes a moment, considering Vince's rhetorical question. Keep a living ball of rats as a pet? It was nuts, but did have a certain creepy charm. Then, he turned to look down the block to where Mr. Frod, unsurprisingly, was still watching him. His bald head shone like a bowling ball, and the lenses of his glasses caught the sun and sparkled like fallen stars.

David waved to him, laughing as the man abruptly turned to the building; but he could easily imagine his expression: His mouth twisted into a moue of disgust; his gray moustache a fur cap hovering above thin lips. His black prescription glasses, bony face and dark skin.

(A snarling rat's face suddenly flashed in David's mind! A rat's face with beady glowing red eyes!) He gasped, jerking his body forward.

"What?" Vince said. "What's so funny, nigger?"

David's body was stiff with shock. "Mr. Frod," he said into the cell phone, frowning at the unexpected image. "Motherfucker's snooping. He's down the block right now, staring at me."

"Fuck Frod," he said. "I asked what you plan on doing if we—I mean, if you, catch it? What then nigger?"

"Let it loose in Mr. Frod's office," David said. The troubling image was slowly fading away. But, the rat's face was very familiar to him. Especially, the eyes.

"When he comes in tomorrow," he said. "It'll be the first thing the asshole sees. That'll teach him to open my fucking mail! Then I'll put one in Paris's fucking pillowcase, the big mouthed evil bitch. I'll have to think of a way to get her to leave, but—"

"Are you crazy?" Vince said. "They'll kick your ass out for that shit; you and Paris. Raymond's already sick of you!"

David snickered. "That's only if they find out I did it," he said, "and they won't okay? I've got this son, so just relax."

Vince grunted like a disapproving parent. "You want to risk a place to stay over a fucking practical joke?" he said. "You better be careful nigger, you know they jealous. You said you could see it as soon as they met her ass. He didn't know you even had a girl, did he? And definitely not one that looks as good as Paris."

"Don't, worry," David said. "Even if I don't put it in his office, I'm still catching one. The record is supposedly fifty-five, but imagine if we see one bigger than that shit? I'm bringing my video camera, kid. So bring yours too."

"What makes you think they even exist?" Vince asked. "What's the point? It could be a waste of time. How do you know that writer isn't a damn kook and a liar just trying to sell his book?"

David shrugged, but Vince couldn't see him through his cell phone. At least, not yet. But, David felt quite sure that the technology to make that possible was coming, was probably being perfected somewhere as he stood there talking to his friend.

When something moved down in the dark subway entrance, a woman and little girl emerged from the shadows, and immediately started up the steps. They were holding hands and were staring right at him.

David flinched with surprise, not expecting to see anyone coming from that way. He had been half listening for footsteps behind him again and hadn't heard a train since the man in the backpack rushed by.

David was breathing heavily as he observed them. The little girl was wearing a pink T-shirt with a smiling Dora on it. She was carrying a purple video game of some sort, that looked like a portable Playstation to him. But, there were so many different types, it could have been anything.

They were clearly Hispanics; possibly Dominicans, judging by their complexions. As they came into view, sunlight gleamed in their black hair and David saw that the child's pigtails were tied with satiny yellow ribbons.

She was wearing blue jeans, a yellow halter-top, Sponge Bob sneakers, and was licking a huge lollipop.

It was either strawberry or cherry, he couldn't be sure, but the small tongue darting out from between her plump pink lips had turned decidedly red. When they finally passed David on the top step, a sweet lilac fragrance followed in their wake.

The little girl smiled and tried to wave, but her mother only ignored him, yanking on her daughter's wrist (come on!), with her face frowning darkly.

She wore a black halter-top and tight brown jeans. Her bare arms were perspiring lightly, a blue leather purse swung from one shoulder.

"Let me go, Vince," David said suddenly. "I'm going to catch the train and get this shit over with. We'll talk about everything later."

"You can't answer that, can you?" he said. There was laughter in Vince's voice. "Did you even consider that?" he asked, snidely.

"We'll talk later," David repeated. "You're only two stops away." He glanced at his watch. "Should take me about ten minutes," he said. "Meet me at the Cranberry station."

"Yeah, alright," Vince said. "But, I can't wait to hear you answer that. We could be on a wild-goose chase and shit!"

"We'll talk later," David said for the third time. "I have good reason to think we'll actually see one, maybe more than one." He refrained from mentioning his good omen, or Lorna London's eyes. He suddenly imagined her as she'd looked on the pink Essence cover, and shivered.

"Now you're tripping," his friend said, as if in response. "But, whatever, just hurry the hell up nigger!"

The cell phone beeped as Vince hung up and dead silence followed. David closed his Nokia and shoved the phone in his pocket just as a train pulled into the underground station. He could hear the muted sound of metal wheels rolling along the tracks beneath the street.

Hot wind puffed from the shadows again, whipping up loose pages of a newspaper from down the smelly staircase. Twisting through the air, the pages flipped three times and drifted down to the dirty sidewalk.

David bet it was the first sunlight the filthy pages had seen in days; maybe even in weeks. One crumpled headline read: YANKEES WIN TWENTY-EIGHTH WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!

David, a Mets fan, quickly averted his eyes and considered running to catch the train, but realized he needed a metro card and would have to miss it.

He glanced down at the paper again where another headline read: PRESIDENT OBAMA TO MEET WITH CONGRESS ABOUT CREATING HIP-HOP HOLIDAY & GOLDEN MONUMENT IN WASHINGTON D.C. RUSH LIMBAUGH, SAVAGE, AND HANNITY ALL ON BOARD WITH IT!

David frowned, suddenly thinking of the woman, wondering what she thought of the idea. He certainly knew what his mother and grandparents thought. They were still just as jealous as ever. What had his mother told him when rap started becoming more popular?

"I hope you don't think rap is going to last!"

He turned, and gazed down the block, not expecting to see her or the young girl. But, he smiled as he found them both standing in front of the shelter.

The sun dappled leaves above their heads, sprouting from the old oak tree growing along the sidewalk, were waving in the gentle breeze.

When he saw that she was speaking to Mr. Frod, his thoughtful smile evaporated.

She was holding the girl's hand, and laughing at something Mr. Frod was telling her. The sounds of her laughter were faint and barely reached him, but he could easily imagine what Mr. Frod was saying.

David's slowly forming expression conveyed the idea that he would have just as soon killed Mr. Frod, as looked at him. Putting up both his middle fingers at the two of them, David grinned and finally started down the subway station steps.

5.

Next Stop, Purgatory

David immediately covered both his mouth and nose with both hands the moment he reached the lower level. The odors he'd noticed upstairs, had magically combined with the stifling heat below, to form a horrendous stink.

The air was like a solid thing, clinging to his skin beneath his shirt. He plucked the thin material away from his chest, rubbed his sleeve, and felt a slight dampness there. Ironically, wearing the long sleeves had actually been Paris's idea.

"What if one of them attacks you?" she had asked him on that fateful day. When he had been so stupid as to think she wouldn't mind that he was finally doing the one thing he had sworn he would never do: Ride a subway train. And furthermore, was doing it without her.

"They bite, don't they?" she'd asked. "I heard somewhere rats attack if they feel cornered or threatened. Is that what you want? Why the fuck are you even doing this?"

The boy was mildly shocked; it was one of the few times in recent years she had shown even the slightest concern for his well-being. And the first time she had ever broken her silent treatment in one day. He wondered if threatening to leave her alone in the Camelot Hotel had caused it.

But, an angry and swollen faced David had still tried to soothe Paris with a few facts from the book he was reading: "A rat would never attack a human," he'd said. "Fact is, they don't fuck with anything that's much bigger than they are. They're smarter than that. The only way they might bite a person is if they're sick from being poisoned...like the ones downstairs."

"Why not?" Paris had asked. "They have teeth don't they nigger? Shit with teeth usually bite, regardless!"

"Hell yeah," he'd said. "They've got teeth. But, only for biting through shit. Making holes in the ground, in tree trunks, and sometimes right through a concrete sidewalk."

This was mostly a blatant lie, but David didn't see the sense in telling her the truth. When she asked to see for herself (Paris wasn't shy about questioning anything she didn't believe), he pretended not to know where the book was. Which was actually a good one, since Vince had it; and was probably looking at it right now as he stood in the dim, foul-smelling station.

David could have told her what the writer actually wrote: "Rats will attack a person in a second if they felt the need to. Be it for self-defense, or from extreme hunger. Sometimes, they'll even attack humans in packs."

But, he had wisely kept that information to himself, wondering if Lorna London also physically abused men. Abusing them verbally, seemed to be in her blood.

But, to shut Paris up, David had worn the shirt. And was now extremely glad he did, though he wouldn't be sharing that information with her either. Because right now, the air beneath the sidewalk was dank and humid.

It felt like spider webs were stretching across the entire lobby and some of them were brushing against his face. David slowly glanced around as noises he couldn't identify echoed through the place, seeming to come from far down the black tunnel.

High above his head were faint fluorescents in dingy aluminum casings. And glancing down he saw that the floor beneath him was nondescript concrete, with yellow numbers painted on it. Most of them had faded beyond recognition, as if scuffed by hundreds of shoes.

Thick columns of girded metal were supporting the roof and shiny ceramic tiles covered the walls. The tiles were once beige, now they were mostly gray, and were splattered with what appeared to be mud to David.

He actually thought it looked a lot more like blood in the depressing light.

When he glanced over to the far right, he saw a token booth also providing a pale light, but it barely penetrated the darkness.

Then, straight ahead, he saw a much brighter glow. It was coming from what to him, looked like a futuristic slot machine. David headed in that direction, digging into his front pocket as he went.

He crossed the lobby quickly, stopping at the MTA's automated token booth and peering down at the colorful glowing screen.

He pressed the START logo and a variety of virtual metro cards appeared in place of the logo. Different kinds of cards, that offered everything from single rides, to a monthly pass for ninety-eight bucks. David saw a card for $4.50, and pressed the appropriate virtual box.

He hit the CASH sign on the screen and heard a sharp click. Then, a green light snapped on at the metal doohickey that accepted his money.

David thrust his hand into his pocket again, pulled out five crumpled dollar bills, and fed them into the slot, one by one. Abraham Lincoln facing upwards, head first.

The dollars were sucked in, and the yellow and gold metro card popped out another slot higher up. Two shiny new quarters plunked in a metal cup below, and rattled to a stop.

It was his change.

David snatched his metro, grabbed the coins, and hurried away from the machine. Not bothering to get his receipt, or check the card. Not noticing the woman's face glaring at him from the two quarters either.

But, he would have recognized that face instantly had he looked And seeing it would have most likely changed every horrifying thing that was yet to come.

David usually checked his cards before he left the outer platform but the heat was making him even more nauseous. So deciding he would simply go on faith this time, he reached the token booth, one of the few that still had actual transit workers in them, and peered through the bulletproof glass. (Without thinking, he pocketed the shiny new quarters with the woman's face on them.)

David glanced at the back wall and saw a long row of folded maps. The dark skinned man standing inside the booth gave him a stressed look. He wore glasses, the typical transit worker's uniform, and a navy blue MTA cap with a white OBAMA pin on its brim.

Both the rapper Rick Ross and Isaac Hayes the deceased R&B singer, simultaneously came to David's mind. Only a much heavier version of Isaac Hayes.

The man's thick beard didn't conceal his twisted lips and irritated face. He clearly didn't want to be working on such a lovely spring morning. And he most certainly didn't want to be harassed by any juvenile delinquents.

Laughter nearly bubbled from David's throat, but he held it in. "May I have a train map?" David asked him, grinning just a little.

The transit worker frowned and slowly pressed the button that amplified his speech. His eyebrows were furrowed angrily as he leaned over to speak into the microphone. He seemed to sense David's mirth.

"What?" he said, his eyebrows rising.

The voice that jumped from the speaker was loud, and mechanical, and barely seemed human to David. A violent burst of static made his single word a vicious scream. Suddenly, David pictured the transit worker rapping from behind the booth, waving his hands and shouting into the microphone, and the boy suppressed another giggle.

Nice attitude, he thought, emcee fuck face.

Then, David repeated in a syrupy sweet tone: "May I have a train map, please o good sir?"

The man grunted. He rolled his eyes, still frowning, and sluggishly turned to the maps behind him. David hadn't specified which train, so he gave him a map of the entire subway system. He shoved the folded paper through the concave slot, and the boy snatched it.

He quickly slipped it in his back pocket, and gave the transit worker a thumbs up sign. "Thanks," he said, and beamed.

Not bothering to wait for the transit worker's response, David walked away from the booth and headed for the platform. He was in luck; a C train was pulling into the station as he slid his card through the slim metal box on top of the turnstile.

GO! began flashing on a small screen atop the revolving barrier, and he pushed the twin metal poles. They click-clacked, turning as he strode through the narrow aisle, and onto the platform.

Now, the smell of tar was nearly overwhelming. But, David ignored it and could see that the arriving train was one of the newer models. Brightly lit and spotless, it resembled a line of stainless steel freezers turned on their sides. Only he knew that these freezers had metal wheels attached to those sides.

In front of the train, near the roof, was a neon letter C. It was shining above the tracks like a flashlight covered with red cellophane. Dusty wind picked up as the train came to a stop with loud hissing sounds, and the terrific grumble of a giant diesel engine.

As the train had sped by, David caught a glimpse of a poster of Lorna London through the window.

It was advertising her new film: Wizard And Glass, in which she played Susan Delgado, and he immediately thought of her as she'd looked at the 2010 Teen Choice Awards. My God! he'd thought while watching it that night, she's so damn sexy, her looks are going to be legendary! Right up there with Paula Patton's—and that crazy attitude! I hate Little Wayne! He didn't really hate Little Wayne, however; some of his favorite songs were Little Wayne songs. He simply loved Lorna London.

But, now David jumped as another hidden loudspeaker in the station blared this message in a white woman's pleasant voice: "West Blake Street. Next stop: Vivian Street."

A melodic ding! signaled that the procession of metal cars had fully stopped. The refrigerator doors slid open with loud thumps all along the train, and people hurried from the cars, some of them immediately clamping hands over their noses.

When a very sour wind blew from the tunnel, David covered his own nose again; his heart suddenly speeding up as he surveyed the gleaming silver cars.

He should get on the last car, it was usually the most empty. But, a flood of people had come from the train and there simply wasn't enough time. If he tried it and failed to get on immediately, the train would leave him standing right there.

So, he hurriedly moved forward toward the open car near him, pushing past people exiting the train, and a part of David couldn't believe he was actually rushing to get on a subway car. Something he hadn't done in nearly ten fucking years!

Stepping into the compartment, David saw an empty seat on his left and quickly sat down. The smell of new rubber was a much better scent than the mixture of odors out on the platform were...worlds better.

Leaning back in his seat, he glanced up at the slightly concave roof and noticed that the fluorescents up there were much brighter than the ones in the station were (not good), and also saw that the metal casings were as shiny as brand new chrome.

Like the chrome he'd just seen on the green Hummer playing 50 Cent. He also saw a glossy ad for a Robert Jordan novel up near the top of the shiny compartment where the metal slots ran the entire length of the car. They framed the cardboard advertisement and The Black Diamond was its intriguing title.

He wondered if it was from Jordan's Wheel Of Time series. But, guessed it probably wasn't.

The excellent drawing depicted a giant creature with a rat's head and a lizard's body, looming over a gathering of people in helmets and shiny black suits.

David thought they were space warriors, judging by the style of the suits, and by the guns they were shooting at the sinister thing. It was a fearsome looking monster if David had ever seen one; not the kind of creature he normally associated with Robert Jordan novels.

Angry yellow eyes poked from its green skin like boils, and it was snarling at four bright moons.

Its impossibly long tongue lolled between its massive jaws. At least, they were massive as compared to the people standing beneath it. The forked tip was wrapped around a weird space vehicle.

The detail was amazing, and David didn't notice the tiny Michael Turner signature (how could he? it was small enough to have been written by a mouse!), but clearly saw human forms dangling from the monster's curving, white teeth.

Huge white teeth that were highlighted against one of the moons. It was standing on a dark, desert backdrop that reminded him of H.G. Wells' classic: The Time Machine.

David suddenly thought of that frightening book; recalling the cold feeling it had given him while reading it. He even pictured the furry Morlocks that were harvesting the small pale humanoids...

When the scientist in the story finally awoke from the explosion, the time machine had stopped so far into the future, the landscape seemed to be drifting in outer space. His house was gone, and the surrounding area had become barren wasteland beneath a pitch-black sky, but for a few cold, shining stars. The scientist could still see, though he couldn't remember how. But, tumbleweeds bounced along the terrain, and a much younger David had suffered through vivid nightmares thanks to that image.

He grinned, thinking he would have to buy it. Jordan was one of his favorite authors. Him, Endy, and Stephen King. Technically, much of David's writing style had come from them.

But, the inspiration, and the sudden acceleration in his technique, had all been Lorna London. He suddenly exhaled and glanced down at the floor of the train.

Being on the train was both exhilarating and frightening to him. Mainly because he had been acutely claustrophobic ever since he was small.

David had only been a child, but he could still remember the freezer's stuffy darkness. As black as deepest outer space, it had seemed to him back then.

Even now, if he really tried (which he shouldn't have been doing, but couldn't seem to stop himself), David could still hear the hollow thuds that were his own small fists beating helplessly at the lid. It had seemed to weigh as much as a small mountain, to him.

But, despite his screams, he'd still heard Sammy cackling above him. His uncle Sammy. It was a dull and clogged, faraway sound. The way things seemed to sound to him when he was just waking up.

His uncle was laughing hysterically, positively choked with joy, while David suffered a fright beyond reason. The metal box had felt more like an abandoned oven, sealed up in the sun, reeking of spoiled stuff stuck in the bottom corners. Because it hadn't been doused with bleach, or sprinkled with baking soda to kill those revoltingly foul odors.

Not yet...because his uncle Sam was supposed to have handled that particular chore.

"Have it done before I get home, Sam!" David's mother had said that morning. Her eyebrows were slanted angrily, her brown face, oily as usual. David was in bed, with one eye half open, pretending to be asleep.

But, by noontime of that same day, Sammy still hadn't done it. As David recalled, he had been an extremely fat and lazy boy.

He hadn't wanted to do it on such a sunny day, he'd said. Plus, he'd suddenly had a better idea, hadn't he? Sammy got him to climb into the white freezer like a little monkey, mere minutes before the dazzling sun had climbed to its zenith in the sky.

When the green fumes hit him, in a fit of blind panic, David threw his shoulder against the lid, lifting his uncle up (Sammy had been seventeen then, but weighed a good two hundred pounds), and bright light had shone through the slight crack he'd made.

And for a brief moment, David could actually see the hallway just past the kitchen.

But, a shocked uncle Sammy had only grunted and pushed down even harder on the lid by jerking his enormous body, making his belly wobble and shake like a Jello mold.

"Oh no you don't you little shit!" he roared. "Stay the fuck down where you belong, nigger!"

The lid slammed shut again, just missing David's fingers, imprisoning him in a hot nothingness as suffocating as grandpa's velvet bag had been.

The one he nearly suffocated David with, when he was only five.

Sammy eventually let him crawl out fifteen minutes later, crying, snot dripping from his quivering lips. It was small consolation, but his uncle got a fierce ass whipping that evening for not cleaning the freezer.

Nine year old David, laying on his bed in the dark, was unable to fully enjoy his howls of pain.

The sound of leather smacking his uncle's naked flesh was loud, making David jump with each blow (his mother eventually sprained her wrist hitting him too), but the point was, he now avoided closed spaces like the plague.

* * *

But, he was finally taking the subway, regardless. It was the quickest way he could think of to get downtown. And since he just couldn't do it alone, not just yet, Vince was coming with him.

"Do you have any idea where I could possibly find a few rodent traps?" he asked Vince on the day after he decided he would find the kingdom and catch the Rat King.

It was the day before he made the mistake of telling Paris about it. David was utterly surprised when Vince had replied that he actually did.

"How many you need?" Vince asked him casually. "And which size?"

Apparently, Vince's father had once trapped squirrels. Studied them and then released them in Central Park for some reason Vince couldn't explain. Vince called it his father's hobby.

But, some of the traps were still in Vince's house, and that was what really mattered.

"Did he have any raccoon traps?" David said.

"I don't think so," Vince said. "I only remember him talking about squirrels. He was a squirrel fanatic."

"Well, bring all you find," he said, "I'm catching a Rat King!"

But, that wasn't how Vince had gotten involved. That was only how they wound up taking the squirrel traps. (Squirrel traps that would eventually save Vince's life in an almost hilarious way.) But, right now, David closed his eyes and leaned back against the subway seat. His body was bouncing lightly against the uncomfortably hard plastic.

He took a deep breath and tried to relax. Tried to visualize the manuscript he was working on. Maybe it would even calm him down since contemplating his current writing project always seemed to relax him.

His novel was nearly done and was coming along quite nicely, but he suddenly couldn't find it. It had totally vanished from beneath the bed. David had panicked at first, right before he remembered that Vince had a copy of it on CD.

But, he still didn't like the fact that he couldn't find his work. Not just because it was something that he cherished either. Something he had written straight from the heart about his dreams come to life: the stunningly beautiful and outrageously outspoken, Lorna London.

It was also because their room was only as big as one of Lorna London's closets probably was. He just couldn't understand where it had gone. He had checked both locks and they were perfectly fine.

Plus, Paris hardly ever went anywhere beyond Mrs. O'Megan's bakery, so he felt that ruled out a cat burglar. But, manuscripts didn't just jump up and walk away either.

It had to have gone somewhere. Whether on its own, or assisted by some thief, he didn't know.

The train suddenly jerked twice and David sat up, sliding a little on the slick seat. A piercing whistle blew somewhere in the tunnel and hissing sounds followed the bright screech of the train's metal wheels as mechanical brakes locked into place.

David sat back again and grinned, folding his arms across his chest. So far so good, he thought. His phobia was nice and quiet. But, for how long? was the real question that he didn't dare ask himself, lest he tempt his fate.

The train rolled smoothly into the station where a crowd of people were already waiting, and stopped.

After this station, there was only one more stop to go. The doors slid open and people hurried on, brushing against one another as they scrambled for seats.

David watched as a tall black man suddenly ran up to the train from somewhere on the platform, carrying a large bicycle.

The mountain bike looked very expensive, to David. Like one of those six hundred dollar brands Vince was always clamoring over.

He reached the train just as the doors clunked shut, his bicycle's front tire bumping against the metal surface with a muted thud.

"Holy fuck!" he screamed. "Wait! I gotta catch this fucking train! It's a matter of life and death!"

But, despite his frantic pounding on the little glass window, the car's doors didn't reopen.

6.

Just Strangers

David peered up from his seat and the man who had knocked on the window was still there. But, before he lowered his head, the boy thought he had seen something very strange.

The man was wearing a cycling suit, black with red stripes along the thighs; and had a white towel around his neck. But, the crazy part, was that David thought the towel had just been moving on its own.

The man's hands were clearly visible through the window, but the towel around his neck seemed to be wiggling in the fucking air!

Like a white snake being controlled by a snake charmer, he thought and peered up again. But if it had moved, it certainly wasn't moving now.

David wiped his face with one trembling hand, thinking he was simply feeling a case of the jitters (because he couldn't have seen that!) and looked down the car to where a young girl was sitting alone across the aisle. A girl he hadn't noticed before.

She had on faded jeans and a tight green T-shirt. Her face was a soft oval, tapering to a small chin. And either she had on pink lipstick, or the color was naturally her own.

Her light brown hair was swept into a bun, revealing a clear brown forehead. Her hair looked nice (he didn't expect every black girl he met to have Lorna London's hair texture); it looked clean, healthy and well kept, which was good enough for him.

But, when David finally noticed her eyes he jumped a little, slightly startled. She had the strangest eyes, he thought, almost like sparkling flecks of snow.

And with that thought, David's mind suddenly slipped back to the day his mother had kicked him out.

It had been snowing on that day (which was probably why he'd connected the memory with the girl's eyes, he would think later) and he was lying on his bed reading Omar Tyree's Leslie.

Suddenly, his door had banged open, and his mother had strode in. She came to a stumbling stop in the middle of his small room (weaving a little and clearly drunk), with her hands on her wide lumpy hips.

She stared at the posters on his wall.

"You and these fucking white bitches!" she spat, after a few seconds. "What is it with you huh?"

She turned on him. "You know this Lorna London bitch coulda bought and sold yo narrow ass back in the days?" she spat. "Huh? It was a crime to even look a white woman in the face, nigger! If she caught you looking at her, she could have had yo black ass lynched!"

David hadn't answered, because he was too shocked to speak. He wasn't as naive as his mother wanted to believe, so he knew how jealous she was of all women.

And of white women, in particular. She never really tried to hide it, either. She was constantly saying shit like: "Here we go again! No matter what the fuck they do, it's front page news! Next, they'll be showing exclusive footage of Lorna London taking a late night shit. They'll probably interrupt a fucking Obama speech to do it! You think I'm bullshitting? He wouldn't mind either, the fucking sell-out!"

Lorna London was part-black; his mother knew that. But, on the day she threw him out into the storm, she walked up to the biggest poster of Lorna and glared at it. "I don't see what's so fucking special about this bitch," she said.

She had turned back to him, her pimply face frowning behind huge prescription glasses.

"What is it?" she said. "The fucking long, silky hair and the pretty eyes? Big fucking deal, they all have that shit. So what? I can go buy a weave and some contacts and have me looking like a fancy model, too!"

She had turned back to the poster to continue her scrutiny. It was actually a copy of El Especialito blown up to poster size. And it was simply one of the most stunning shots of Lorna London David had ever seen in his life; and he had seen plenty.

But, this was the one that had sparked his imagination like none of the others had.

His pissy-drunk mother had only said:

"She ain't all that to me; you just like her 'cause she's pale as chalk, got dimples, and long assed hair! Shit's probably a fucking weave," she went on, "I ain't stupid, they wearing them too!"

She had laughed snidely. "Real hair don't look that fucking perfect nigger," she said. "And her eyes is probably fake. That's why you never seen em on that show she was on. They can fool yo dumb black ass, but they can't fool me!"

At that point, David responded (snapped was probably an even better term) and finally uttered the words that immediately got him evicted:

"I'm getting tired of your stupid assed race shit!" he yelled. "You know that? And your pitiful jealousy; it's embarrassing!"

David clearly saw her hurt expression as soon as the words had left his mouth.

"What?" his mother barked. "Jealous? Jealous of what? Some ugly, light skinned slut? Fuck that little long haired bitch!" she screamed. "You wanna relive slavery nigger? Be my fucking guest Kunta Kinte, but you won't be doing it in my fuckin house!"

"Relive slavery?" he'd said, and jumped up off the bed, scowling. (Omar Tyree and his well written horror novel, had just pulled a vanishing act in his thoughts.)

David's mind had become a sheet of red anger, because this had been building up seemingly forever. Ever since he had discovered Lorna London.

His mother was always criticizing the posters and the pictures David stripped from fashion magazines and hung on his wall. Always asking why he was so fascinated with white bitches.

As if that were now a crime; or as if she wasn't just as fascinated with them as he was.

Actually way more fascinated, he'd thought. Because most of his "fascination" as she'd put it, was reserved for a select few females of any race. Lorna London just happened to be number one among that very short list.

And she was also an African American!

David grimaced. He was reliving that cold, miserable night, as the train rocked, and he could nearly smell the cigarettes his mother had constantly smoked as she trudged about the house in her tattered brown bathrobe and filthy slippers.

No, he couldn't deny that most of the girls on his wall had had eye color (had she simply cited that as the reason for her angst, he wouldn't have had much of a defense). But, only a few were as light skinned as Lorna London was. In fact, most of them were brown skinned.

His mother had only focused on the posters of Lorna London. And boy, how she had focused on them! Perhaps the two pink spotlights aimed at her face from opposite angles, or the shiny cut-out stars he had tacked around the poster, had something to do with it.

David suddenly remembered how his mother's face looked when she first saw the El Especialito poster. How she had stared at it. He had stopped counting the minutes after the first five or so.

She would never admit it, and David would never bring it up to her (not if he lived to be a hundred and no matter how mad he got with her) but his mother had cried after seeing Lorna London. David saw the tears in her eyes because they had shimmered in the glow from his table lamp. He was watching her through the corners of his own eyes, pretending to be reading the novel, so she didn't see him, seeing her, wipe the tears away after touching her own pimply face.

David was still fake reading his book when she finally turned around to him and he would never forget her look of helplessness and despair. And he could only imagine how ugly she'd felt at that moment. He couldn't blame her for it, either.

But, on the day she told him to hit the road, take a hike, don't let the door hit ya motherfucker, his mother didn't shed a single tear. Unless she shed it while he was trudging through the snow, dragging a large Hefty bag behind him like a ghetto Santa Claus.

Only he'd had old clothing inside his gift bag. Not toys for sleeping little kids.

What she did do, was rip David's favorite poster of Lorna London right off the wall, tearing it in half (a perfectly straight tear, that cut her smiling, dimpled face in two), and then she began tearing those halves until the once ridiculously breathtaking picture, one David just knew he would never find again, was nothing more than a drift of colorful confetti on his carpet.

Then she ripped down both spotlights! They slammed to the carpet and one of the bulbs had popped. The stunned silence that ensued had seemed to stretch out and out. And, perhaps David hadn't reacted fast enough, because his mother suddenly spit on the pile of torn up paper. And then, stepped on it with her dingy white slippers.

Really doing nothing more than scattering it on his beige carpet. But, David thought he saw a section of poster that may have once belonged to Lorna London's succulent pink mouth, the tip of her tongue just noticeable between her perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. He imagined her deep, deep adorable dimples; and for some reason, this image finally triggered his rage.

"You fucking black BITCH!" he screamed, tears already rolling down his brown cheeks. "I fucking hate you!" he wailed. "Why did you do that shit to my goddamn poster! Oh, no...Lorna!"

David frowned, as the lights in the train dimmed for a moment (automatically causing his heart to lurch), then blinked back on. He remembered his mother was shocked by his use of the F word, but had recovered nicely; as if she'd been patiently waiting for it.

David stared up at the Robert Jordan poster again, the one up at the top of the car, and he stared into it. His eyes slowly lost focus again, the alien creature slowly disappearing as he kept recalling that horrid snowy night...

After all, he thought, it's the type of response you'd been wanting to pull from me for a very long time. Wasn't it? The question was purely rhetorical. He wasn't naive about that, either.

David's father by all accounts, was a piece of shit. So his mother was obviously deeply scarred by everything that had taken place between them.

But, the reality of the situation hadn't eluded him. Lorna London was universally beautiful, that was the main problem, David felt. He had only to look to his own mother to prove that particular theory.

David's eyes refocused and he stared up at the shiny white ceiling, feeling the train vibrating beneath him, still thinking of his beloved Lorna London. But, his thoughts suddenly veering off on a new tangent.

David slapped his mother that stormy night, knocking off her glasses and bloodying her nose. He shoved her to the floor and was throwing his stuff into a black plastic bag while she screamed that she was calling the police, right the fuck now!

He was still crying when he finally pushed open the door and rushed out into frigid air and a deluge of snowflakes that immediately stuck in his eyelashes and bit at his ears and his upper lip.

Snot froze up as he walked, but he only saw Lorna London's face through the mixture of snow and his bitter tears.

That was two years ago. David never saw his mother again, and eventually wound up living in Brooklyn with one of his friends where he stewed in misery over his lost Lorna London poster.

"That was stupid!" he told his friend one night while they drank beer. "I should have made a fucking copy of the El Especialito cover just in case!"

Though he knew he couldn't have possibly foretold his mother destroying his poster like that. A bitter truth which did little to stop the pain.

Time moved on and David was just about to sink into an abyss of pointless self-pity, when his friend's sister brought her friend over to their apartment one cold Sunday night.

Which was how he'd first met Paris Jennifer Brown in the first place. Something he truly regretted, despite her looking just like Lorna London in the face.

She even had the sexy eyes, only hers were green.

Now, David felt the train jerk violently and he came out of his long reverie and automatically glanced at the girl sitting alone again. Suddenly wanting to see her strange eyes, again. But, her eyes were closed and she appeared to be sleeping.

David gasped and immediately looked around the subway car. He could smell a faint rank scent all of a sudden, like the odor of something rotten inside the train.

He thought the odor was somehow coming straight through the closed doors. He covered his nose and frowned.

"Holy damn!" he whispered. "That's some strong-assed funk! What the hell is it?"

David glanced out the window and into the station.

The station?

For the first time, David realized that the train was still there. At Vivian Street. He could have sworn it had been moving just now!

Why the fuck is it taking so long to move? he thought. He tried to breathe steadily, doing his best to ignore the hot feeling of claustrophobia that was finally creeping up on him.

It had always come when the train got stuck in a tunnel, waiting for the cars up ahead to move.

And it wasn't easy, especially with the sour odor, but David somehow managed to calm himself enough to turn and look down the aisle again at the pretty black girl sitting by herself.

The one that had started him thinking about that night back in Queens when his mother had totally flipped out on him and kicked him out over nothing. But, for some reason, he felt a measure of fascination over her.

She was no longer sleeping (or at least, her eyes were no longer closed) and she was staring out the window now, seeming upset to him judging by the slight scowl on her face. David thought she really was extremely pretty.

And right up until the moment the crazy shit started happening, the magical shit he couldn't fully explain, David couldn't shake the idea that he was supposed to see her...and maybe even meet her.

In fact, David suddenly had the strangest feeling that the girl was actually going to somehow help him meet Lorna London.

7.

The Unexpected Stranger.

David guessed the pretty black girl sitting down the train and across the aisle was fully American. He knew many foreigners were sometimes just as dark as she was; the color of hot amber and often darker. Sometimes the color was real, sometimes it came from a can.

But, this girl's dark skin color was obviously natural, and her pale eyes looked strange against it. As if they were only shapes of eyes, cut from light brown construction paper.

David realized with a jerk, that she actually resembled Eva Marcille from The Young And The Restless.

Only much younger and meaner looking, and he thought Eva looked pretty mean.

The girl continued to stare through the glass as the train finally trundled down the track, nearing the pitch blackness beyond the tunnel's curved opening.

And out of nowhere, the guy with the bicycle suddenly started screaming laughter as their section of the train passed by him. The angry black man David noticed just before he started daydreaming and had forgotten all about.

What had he yelled out when the doors closed? That getting on the train was a matter of life and death? What the fuck had he meant by that? David wondered.

He gazed at him through the subway car's window. He was still standing on the platform and still looked angry, even though he was laughing.

David, guessing it was sarcastic laughter, could see his knuckles as the train moved past him and they resembled hairy bunched grapes he shook in a huge double fist above his head, as if cheering his favorite sports team.

David could somehow see droplets of sweat dripping from the man's afro. And, when he noticed the towel around his neck again, the one he thought he'd seen move, he realized the moisture on the man's face wasn't perspiration. And couldn't have been.

How could he possibly be so fucking wet? he wondered. It's not raining yet, nobody else is wet, and he came running from the opposite direction of the bathrooms. I remember that!

And seeming to read David's mind, the man suddenly threw his bike to the platform and raised the towel above him, twisting it with both hands.

He threw back his head, and a clear liquid like water, gushed into his open mouth! Then, he dipped his head beneath the water, wetting his hair and letting it course down his back.

He shook his head vigorously, jerked up his face, throwing off the liquid as if his entire head was soaking wet, and grinned right at him!

David saw the man saying something, water dribbling all down his pointy chin, but it was like watching a silent movie. And as the train finally pulled away from the station, he again noticed his black riding suit. The bottoms were shorts instead of pants. His thighs were thick brown columns, heavily muscled and hairy.

Way too hairy, David thought. Animal-like, was the phrase that actually occurred to him. There was a bulge in his crotch area, like rolled up socks were stuffed down the front of his spandex.

At least two pairs, he thought crazily.

And when he finally glanced up from observing the huge bulge, the black man was somehow carrying the bike again.

His forearms flexed from its weight as he raised the entire thing above his head and stepped back from the departing train. As if he were about to slam it down to the platform again.

But, he didn't. Instead, he wagged his finger at David, like a parent might wag their finger at a naughty child. While holding his mountain bike straight up in the air by the back wheel with his other hand!

And within a blink, poof! he was gone and the smooth windows were filled with solid darkness.

But in his mind, David could still see his wet and grinning brown face; and him wagging his finger as if in admonishment.

The train rocked like a stage coach as it sped through the tunnel. What the fuck was that? he thought, rubbing his face briskly with both slightly trembling hands.

He saw the man drop the bike. No fuck that! He heard it crash to the ground hard enough to hear through the closed doors, because he had purposefully slammed it down! Hard enough to knock something loose that clinked and clattered on the cement ground.

But, when David glanced up from briefly viewing his shorts, he had been carrying the bike again.

David exhaled softly. How the fuck is that possible? he whispered in his mind. The diversion had only taken a millisecond, if that, a mere flick of his eyes!

David thought of the man bending down, getting both arms around the bicycle and hoisting it up over his head like that. Just before he heaved it to the ground. And all of this after wrapping the towel around his neck again?

All of that in the time it took to sneeze or cough or blink?

Turning back to the girl, David saw her looking and jerked with surprise. She made a face at him, a small smirk there and gone. A subtle widening of her pale eyes, as she rolled them snottily, her full lips pouting and he thought: Another fucking attitude. Just what I fucking needed!

She shrugged and turned back to the darkness beyond the glass, ignoring him again. Weird, he thought. But, in that brief meeting of eyes, David saw that hers were the color of wheat. Or maybe they were actually considered hazel?

David stared at her face for a long moment, thinking she might look at him again, but eventually glanced out the window on his side of the car, when she didn't.

Once again, he had ceased to exist to her.

David took a deep breath, released it, and continued to gaze through his window. Every so often, a light bulb encased in orange metal flashed by and the radiance illuminated dirty white tile covering the tunnel walls, and large black numerals stenciled right beneath the glowing bulbs.

More light flashed by as the train sped steadily down the track. And to this point, David had mostly forgotten his claustrophobia.

Normally, the very thought of riding a train made his heart pound. But, he was too intrigued by the guy with the mountain bike, and thinking of Lorna London, to remember he'd suffered from that particular affliction most of his life.

As his mind finally slithered around to it, luckily for him, his throat clenched up just as the train's brakes locked into place, again. They had reached the next stop.

The car lurched like a bucking horse, and David immediately sat up in his seat, tilting sideways a little, his heart thumping hard.

The wheels screeched long and loud, David sighing as he tried to keep his balance. Thank you, God! he thought, his body leaning forward as the train suddenly reduced in velocity.

He imagined the wheels sparking in the dark, like a welder's torch cutting through steel. David also imagined he was hopelessly trapped in a metal coffin on wheels. But, the train rolled into the next station before he could start imagining the worse.

The second he allowed himself to dwell on the notion of being trapped, the walls would begin to close in. The air would suddenly seem hotter, and the bright lights wouldn't help. They only made him more aware of his shrinking surroundings.

David did everything he could not to think: "Maybe I made a fucking mistake by doing this shit?"

But, he saw the comforting glow of the next station and relaxed. It was amazing how quickly he had remembered the fear, and the horrible emotions, even after nine and a half years.

The train came to a jerking stop with the loudspeaker blaring, again: "Lorna London Street. Next Stop: Cranberry Street!"

The bell dinged, and the doors rattled open. David nearly leapt from his seat when the man carrying the bicycle strode onto the car! The man he had just noticed bugging out in the Vivian Street station. The one they had just left behind, standing on the Vivian Street platform with his fancy mountain bike!

David watched, shocked beyond words (so shocked that he didn't hear the white woman's pleasant voice say: Lorna London Street, which consequently meant he didn't realize that there was no street in-between Vivian and Cranberry) as the man in the black cycling suit quickly rolled his expensive looking mountain bike, a bike Vince would have gone absolutely crazy over, right inside the car.

8.

Black Magic

"How the fuck did he do that?" David whispered.

There was no way in the world he could have ridden to the next station before the train got there!

But regardless, the black man stood in the car's entrance, angrily staring down at him, his chest heaving as if he had run there. Maybe, carrying the bike over his head in one hand as he ran.

And when the doors rattled closed again, the pounding in David's heart resumed with full force.
He glanced up. The man was still watching him, and a grin was spreading on his dark, narrow face.

Like a rat's face! David thought. Like Mr. Ratburn and shit!

He was startled when the man spoke. Maybe because his voice was so strange, maybe because he hadn't expected him to speak at all.

David had already decided he was one of those crazies running around New York; he was probably homeless and in need of psychiatric help.

But, his voice was incredibly deep and distinctly reminded him of an actor's voice. David thought he could have easily voiced a part in The Planet Of The Apes.

"You can't possibly save the crystal!" he said. "Not the likes of you and that dirty little bitch. Abandon this quest you little shit before we eat you! And, you'll never make it back alive," he went on. "That's a fucking promise, nigger!"

David couldn't help glancing around, but he was actually talking to him.

Can't save the crystal? he thought. What the hell was that? What dirty bitch?

And what the fuck did he mean by make it back alive? Back from where, alive?

David suddenly felt a burning sensation against his right leg, as if something in his pocket were on fire.

When the burning pain on his thigh suddenly flared even hotter, he reached into his pocket and frantically grabbed for the spot.

A bright stinging sensation erupted in his fingers as he touched the source of the heat. Something that felt like...

"Fuck!" he screamed, jumping up from his seat. It felt like lumps of hot metal were in there!

He reached into his pocket carefully, snagging the objects he'd felt and flipping them out. Two gleaming, silver coins tumbled to the ground, and spun on their sides. When they finally fell flat, David sat down slowly and saw that they were the two quarters he'd taken from the metro card machine.

Instead of George Washington, the image on the front of the coins was of a woman. A strikingly, pretty woman, he thought. But no, that was much too mild a word to describe the face he was seeing.

The man suddenly snarled above him! Like a wild animal, and when David glanced up, the look on the man's face was alarming, as if he were suffering violent heart spasms.

David noticed that his eyebrows were suddenly extremely bushy, as were his suddenly long sideburns. Like a reject from a 1970's N.B.A team, he thought, leaning back against the seat.

They hadn't looked that way before, he was certain of it! And then, he noticed the white towel around the man's neck, again. The shit was actually moving; he'd been right about seeing that!

It was squirming just like a snake now, raising from the man's broad shoulders as if searching for something. It wiggled there a second and then stopped, as if suddenly frozen. And, David was utterly stunned.

The towel was still floating in the air, as stiff as an ironing board, and just as dry. And the man himself, was bone dry. There wasn't any moisture on his face, in his afro, or staining his spandex suit.

What? David thought, and looked at the girl, but she was still gazing out the window. She didn't appear to see either of them.

He viewed the other passengers next, and they were also acting as if the man didn't exist. They were looking forward, their eyes locked on their windows, staring out at nothing as far as he could see but a steady blackness.

It was creepy.

But, his dormant claustrophobia had finally woken up, and was now whispering to him. For some reason, the voice was Al Sharpton's. Or maybe, it was really the manager at the Camelot Hotel, Mr. Frod's, voice:

I'm right here, Davey, the voice said. Go on! Look around nigger. Didn't think I was gone forever, did ya? Can't chew feel how hot it's gettin? How closed in? A-Hello! I ain't saying you can't ride da subway, I'm just saying ya can't ride it to Va-lon, nigger!

And then, David realized he hadn't heard the announcement again; the sexy voice telling which stop it was, and where they were going next.

He could recall hearing Cranberry Street, but shouldn't that last stop have been Cranberry street?

David took a closer look at the man. He was at least six-feet tall, and hairy muscular arms were crossed at his broad chest. When he grasped the metal strap just above his head, his arm swinging back and forth, David saw something that made him squint and lean closer...

It wiggled! The lump at the man's crotch, and there was no mistaking it! David inhaled sharply, and stared at the area just below his waist. Something suddenly wiggled again, and again.

David jerked back in his seat, his shoulder blades striking hard plastic. He wanted to see who else was noticing this. But, couldn't seem to turn his head.

All he had to do was glance to the left at a couple sitting near him; a blond haired white guy wearing a business suit, and a gorgeous Asian woman who faintly resembled Lucy Lui. But, he couldn't even do that.

His body felt restrained, as if his limbs were covered in layers of mud. His eyes felt stiff in their sockets. And the walls began their fancy shrinking act as his claustrophobia really kicked in now.

Hello! that voice yelled in his mind. When I talk about equal fear boy, I ain't talking 'bout just the white man's fear, I'm talking 'bout everybody's fear! A-Hello!

When he glanced back down from viewing the metal ceiling that was slowly descending towards him, if only in his frantic imagination, what David saw froze his internal organs in a sheet of dry ice.

It was growing in his shorts!

Whatever it was (and David had an idea what it was), a huge knob suddenly pushed black fabric away from the man's groin. Then, it flowed like an eel beneath the thin material, sliding around his left thigh.

David forgot his claustrophobia. He even forgot the train rocking violently around him.

He looked up at the man's face; he was grinning and giving David a sly, knowing look. A look that said he and David were about to become fast friends.

A flash of violent movement made him look down, again. It was now a black spandex snake, David saw, and it was wrapped twice around the man's leg!

He watched in horror as the stranger reached down and stroked it, lovingly. "Fucking long huh?" he said, chuckling. "And crazy thick, ain't it boy?"

His voice reminded David of rocks shaking in a shoe box. "She'll love sucking on it boy," he said, "they all do! You'd be surprised what those bitches with the nasty attitudes turn into in the bedroom."

He dropped him a wink. "Or out in some dark alleyway," he said, "it don't really matter where, nigger. Just put it in her little mouth...that's my motto. Always let the customer taste the product."

He squeezed the plum sized knob, patting it like the head of a puppy. It was now straining against the fabric of his shorts, as it engorged with blood and grew before David's eyes.

Then, the material snake sped down the man's leg to the cuff of his shorts and suddenly slid out into open space!

David saw something brown and shiny rush out and raise up like a hissing cobra and the car seemed to swirl around him! He blinked three times in rapid succession and the world spun faster.

David didn't want to see it, and wanted to shut his eyes, but he still saw that it had teeth. A row of tiny curving daggers that reminded him of the movie, Alien.

He saw that it was slimy, with beady red eyes too; and it had to be at least four feet long!

Darkness flashed and went, as the overheads blinked off, blinked on. When David looked up, his eyes bulging in fear, his head incredibly dizzy, the man was grabbing the pole with both hands.

He was smiling serenely at him and rocking along with the train as if none of that had just happened!

Even his crotch was back to normal. If the plum sized lump he now saw, could be called normal.

David looked away, trying to calm down, but still gasping for air. He could hear the train's periodic double thump as it raced along the rails.

He was trying to ignore the raging panic thrumming through his mind. But, he was clearly losing the battle this time. Fuck! he thought. It's what I get for getting smart with Paris, isn't it? And especially, my mother! Why did I smack her?

His face felt extremely hot, like he was being smothered by something he couldn't see. This was to be his punishment!

And just before he snapped completely (his thoughts of being trapped were running freely through his head, now; capering and snickering like demented elves), he saw twin bright flashes of blue light!

Turquoise light; down on the floor of the train, right beneath the man standing over the weird colored mountain bike. The crazy man who was still watching him with a weird grin on his face.

As David peered at the glowing lights, he suddenly remembered the quarters. And thought he could hear them whispering! Saying actual words that also seemed to be coming from inside his mind.

"Touch me," the tiny voices sighed together. "Touch both of me, kiss us, for I am the key!"

David only hesitated a moment, before lunging for the coins and grabbing them. He didn't see the terror on the stranger's face when he saw what David was reaching for.

Nor, did David see the beams of red light that immediately rushed at his head, only to be propelled by a blue cloud of radiance that had suddenly appeared from thin air to block it.

The man on the bike ducked as the beams were ricocheted right back at him!

David didn't notice any of this. As soon as he grabbed the coins, a sweeping wave of calmness poured into his body. Into his limbs, seeming to lift him up like he was floating on a giant white cloud!

When he stumbled and dropped them, his good emotions didn't leave entirely, but they definitely lessened in intensity.

They were speeding along at a steady clip now, the metal cabin rattling, and vibrating. Lights flashing by as the train reached another level of velocity.

And, when the bulbs became a bright blur, the man stooped over his bike, and whispered:

"Vince will die nigger! You know that, don't you? Goddess Kia commands it. The time of heroes has come and gone," he said. "There is no God coming to save the innocent and faithful. Lorna London must die! And they were right, nigger. Obama is Satan!"

David leaned back in his curved seat, still staring up, still breathing heavily.

Goddess Kia? he thought. Down where?

Was he referring to his trip to lower Manhattan? And, how the hell did he know Vince's name?

Plus, his voice; the boy was sure he'd heard it before! And those last things. Had David really heard that? Lorna London must die? Obama is Satan?

Then, the man's grin widened, as if he had read his thoughts. He snatched the towel from his neck, water splashing David's upturned face, and he leapt back.

The towel was suddenly drenched, as if wrapped around an open faucet!

The man raised it above his head for the final time, spreading his broad lips as he squeezed it. The clear liquid poured into his mouth, again. And as he drank it, an impossible thing began to happen.

Later, David could only describe it as some kind of black magic. The type of voodoo shit that only seemed to happen in cheesy B horror movies. Or in particularly silly cartoons.

But, the man's boots disappeared. And, it was really more like dissolving. As if the colors on a painting were slowly being drained away.

His ankles evaporated next, then his shins, his knees, his thighs. His groin with the fat snake-like cock, was also gone.

And the more he drank, the more he disappeared. Until all that was left, were his arms and huge hands squeezing water into a floating mouth.

And then, finally, the body-less arms and wrists went too!

David's lasting image would be of the man's bunched grape, hairy knuckles, gripping the white towel with his face turned to one side.

The towel was now whipping and thrashing in his hands like a live cable wire. He winked at David, blew him a kiss with his liver-lips, jerked one last drop into his open mouth, and fully vanished.

The bike didn't vanish with him, it stood for a few seconds, then crashed noisily to the floor of the train.

The train was moving very fast now, almost as fast as David's heart was galloping in his chest. Panting and wheezing, he glanced down at the coins. The whispering had stopped. But, the relaxing feeling was still mostly there.

David slowly leaned over and tapped one of the coins with his finger, but it was cool. For a moment, he thought he had actually felt heat.

He picked it up and peered at it, turning it in his hand. It was a woman's face, he realized. And, he knew exactly who the face belonged to.

Impossible or not, it was the shiny silver face of Lorna London. She was looking forward, wearing a crown and David had never seen a coin like it before.

There was tiny writing on it, he noticed. He was about to read it, but suddenly thought of something else.

Glancing down, he saw that the black tiles were still clean, and still completely dry. And for a second, David thought he really had imagined it all.

Because with all the water the man had just spilled, there wasn't any sign of it. Not even a few beads of moisture! he thought, uttering a shaky laugh.

He thought of the man's white towel gushing water like a damaged pipe.

Some of the water had flowed down the aisle and past him, like a small stream. Discarded gum wrappers had been swept along like tiny silver boats.

One of the little silver boats had stopped at the toe of his right sneaker.

When he looked down now, David saw that the gum wrapper was gone. As well as the water that had held it afloat.

He immediately looked over at the girl sitting by the window, thinking she had to have seen all of this!

But, it was at that moment when he heard a shrill, piercing scream, that he jumped from his seat with renewed fright. In all the strangeness, David had completely forgotten about rodent traps, Rat Kings, and meeting Vince at Cranberry Street.

9.

Vince Makes A Plan

Vince Collins checked his cell phone again. Twenty minutes had come and gone, and still no David.

A subway ride two stops shouldn't have taken this damn long. He returned the Motorola to his backpack, and checked the traps for the twentieth time.

He kicked three hard lumps through the plastic bag. Black & Decker flashlights. For when it got dark, or in case they had to do any exploring.

Vince would forget about them before the end of his train ride, but he certainly hoped they did. Exploring meant they were on the trail of a Rat King or better yet, the magical rat kingdom, itself.

That was actually his term, he figured it had to be magical to exist at all. A slanted grin appeared on his pale face. Long white fingers caressed the metal cage, and he chuckled beneath his breath, looking rather sinister in the light. He knew exactly who he resembled wearing this expression, even though he pretended not to.

David thought he was disgusted by the idea of a Rat King, but he was wrong. Vince couldn't say why he felt the urge to conceal his interest in the rats from his best friend. But, he always followed his urges, and they rarely steered him wrong.

Now, he played with the small metal door on the cage, sliding it up and down, listening to it clink. He thought of the strange novel he had just finished re-reading. David's rat book had been great.

Vince had actually finished it twice and he couldn't stand reading. "Can't deny the shit was creepy," he whispered. "Some writers are simply better than others. Who woulda thunk it?"

Vince never read for fun, he found it utterly boring. And, his eyes would hurt after a few minutes of peering at the tiny words. But, the novel had actually sparked his imagination. To take the time to write a book about rats seemed outrageous, to him.

But, the book had been well written (Vince didn't enjoy reading, but knew good writing when he saw it), and soon, he was down there in the alley with the author, watching as the filthy rats went about their daily routines in what he called Rodent Land.

He was experiencing what David had always described as clarity while reading the book

Some urban writers could immerse the reader in their imaginary world, Vince thought. But, some of them, couldn't. And the women, for whatever reason, seemed to make the best fiction writers. Like Endy, or Kai Leakes, for instance.

And he simply wasn't fucking with that white shit. That Stephen King with his fucking kid-eating clowns, and huge tentacles crawling out of a fucking white mist, shit.

No fucking thank you, Vince often thought. If I'm going to read, I like my street novels! Guns, drugs, and especially the use of the N-word. Even though it was usually nigga, instead of nigger.

Nigga wasn't even in the dictionary, and Vince couldn't understand why the black writers used it in the first place. Either use the fucking word or don't, was how he saw it. But, Neeq Snagem (it was pronounced Neek Sna-gym, a strange name if you asked Vince), had actually been quite good, in his opinion. Quite good.

The stories about them eating cats, dogs, and even people, were shocking enough. But, the chapter on Rat Kings made his skin crawl as if he were covered with lice. He threw the book clear across his room, and heard his mother scream upstairs, asking what the fuck was going on. But, he knew she was just getting her drunk on and after a while, she had left him alone.

There hadn't been any pictures, because the writer never actually spotted a Rat King. And after reading the chapter, Vince still wanted to see one for himself. A cynical part of him refused to believe it was a real thing.

That part of him figured the author was only trying to sell a book. And that thought had made him immediately think of his favorite chick.

Lorna London.

He thought of David and the novel he was writing about her, too. But, then Vince smiled and considered David, again.

He couldn't help it. He pictured him in a dark alley down on Gold Street, holding on to a rope that controlled the traps, just like a ghetto fisherman, and he laughed out loud. He would be just like the crazy writer, except David couldn't write for shit.

At least, nothing other than some corny poetry he gave to Paris about her green eyes (as if black girls couldn't have green eyes, when he'd met plenty), and some silly novel he kept talking about writing about his secret love, Lorna London.

As if it were that easy to write a fucking book! Vincent had thought on the day David shared his plan with him. Of course, with the advent of eBooks (and companies which published eBooks for free), Vince knew that writers no longer had any excuses...all that was left was to write the damn book.

But, he still hadn't looked at the CD David gave him a few weeks ago (something kept coming up before he could, he told himself), and though David was supposedly going to send it to Lorna, seeking her approval to use her picture on the cover, he was really hoping to meet her. Vince wasn't that fucking dense.

Hell, Vince wanted to meet her, too. And, before any of that shit could happen, they first had to accomplish their main mission. Locate the magical rat kingdom and trap the Rat King.

Vince didn't know how he would react if they actually saw a Rat King, he only knew he wanted to be there if it happened.

Assuming it was a real thing, second hand accounts just wouldn't do.

He was sitting down in the train station on Cranberry Street. It was a vast bright and smelly chamber, that was filled with noise, and covered in white signs reading: C TRAIN to 8th STREET: THIS WAY.

Black arrows followed the words, pointing out the proper direction and unlike the majority of underground stations, the Cranberry stop had benches on the outside of the turnstiles. That was what Vince liked about it, you could sit down and wait for people without paying a fare.

Vince was currently sitting on a wooden bench along the left hand wall. He could see into the tunnel as it curved away into darkness, but the brilliant lights above which made this possible, were making him squint.

The token booth was empty, so six metro card machines were set up in various places. The lights on the machines could expose even the darkest corners, and the lobby reminded him of New York during the Christmas season. Everywhere he went in the city, bright lights would glare from storefronts, blink in frosted windows, and even the streetlamps seemed to shed more light than usual.

Vince, who wouldn't have minded some of that weather at the moment, guessed some type of strategy had been employed while arranging the transit machines. But, he really couldn't say what it was.

The smaller ones only accepted plastic, like DISCOVER and VISA and MASTER CARD, while the bigger ones took both credit cards and cash. He figured there were so many because they constantly broke down.

Or maybe, because motherfuckers are constantly trying to break into them, he thought, and grinned.

People were milling about in the heat as he watched. A family of obvious tourists were struggling with what seemed like a hindered suitcases. One of the wheels had apparently broken off the bottom of one of the suitcases, and the male adult (who he assumed was the father) was kneeling down as he examined it.

The smell of the warm wind gusting from down the tracks was horrible, almost as bad as the urine odor that filled the filthy station.

Vince was growing accustomed to the stench. He barely noticed it unless some person made a dramatic show of covering their nose (looking around at other people, wanting company in their disgust), or made a loud noise signaling they had smelled it. He tried his hardest to cope with those individuals and ignore it.

"What if we do find one?" he whispered, suddenly. "What then?"

Vince was amusing himself as he waited for David. He was fully considering the errand he and his best friend were on, for the first time. Not the sort of thing he could ever share with his lovely, alcoholic, weed-headed mother, of course.

He smirked, still fingering the squirrel trap, thinking of what they were trying to do.

Searching for wild rats throughout the city? he thought. Maybe even catching a few.

And if they got insanely lucky: Finding the hidden kingdom, itself?

Imagine that! he thought. My entire life would change. The shit I only dreamt of, would all come true!

He was steadfastly determined to meet Lorna London and it would be on his "To Do" list, until his dying day. She was a Sagittarius, and he had a thing for them. He found her utterly amazing, and she was probably the strongest bond he and David shared.

And, he really respected David for even attempting to write a book about her (even though he doubted his ability to actually do it) because of the ridicule he would eventually receive from the haters (and there would be plenty of them should his book actually turn out half-way decent, he knew), not to mention the hate he had already received to some extent, from his own mother.

And as for Vince's own mother? Vince smirked.

Yes, he could imagine explaining their trip to her, maybe over a late dinner:

"Where are you going again honey?" she would ask him, and dab daintily at her lips with her napkin.

He'd say: "With David to catch rats, mom."

"To catch rats?" she would say, laughing. "Are you serious baby? That sounds pretty creepy."

He'd say: "Yes, ma. I'm serious."

"Why does he want to catch rats, sweetie?" she'd ask.

He'd say: "Because, he read a good book about catching rats. They showed how to trap 'em and everything!"

"Why are you going honey?" she'd ask, slight worry would crinkle her pale blue eyes. "Sounds dangerous, too. I heard from Mr. Orchard that rats carry rabies."

He'd say: "Because I want to see a King Rat, ma! I mean a Rat King. And, maybe we'll even find the kingdom! Imagine that ma, the rat kingdom! Fuck rabies, bitch! Maybe I'll even get to fuck Lorna London's sexy black ass behind that shit!"

His mother would smile and say: "Okay, dear; be careful and try to have fun."

She would continue eating her supper, using her fork to separate the green peas from the mashed potatoes, making thin tracks in them. Once supper was over, she'd rise from the table and wash the dishes.

She would even hum a little while she did them.

Vince grinned at this imaginary Twilight Zone exchange. His mother hated rats above all other things. Even more than she hated black people, and mashed potatoes. She never called him "honey" or "sweetie" and she rarely smiled. The true dialogue would have gone a lot more like this:

"Where the hell are you going Vince?" Her blue eyes would bore into him. "Did I hear you right motherfucker?" she'd whisper.

"With David to catch rats ma," he'd say.

"Catch rats? What the fuck are you talking about?" she'd ask with disgust She would sip her beer. "You been smoking without me again?" she'd say. "I told you 'bout holding back on the weed, motherfucker!"

"No, I'm going with David to catch rats ma," Vince would reply. Trying to ignore the stink coming from her.

She would slam her fork down. "Oh yeah?" she'd grunt. "And when you're done keep on trucking mister; don't come back here! Catch rats. Have you lost your motherfucking mind?" she'd yell. "Following behind that filthy nigger's gone get you killed!"

That was how his mother would really react. He simply had to replace the rat talk with anything else she wouldn't like. And at that point, he wouldn't respond.

Vince would just sit there at the dinner table, wishing he hadn't opened his big fucking mouth in the first place. Which was why she thought he was going to the movies to see Black Honey 2, starring Lorna London (his-soon-to-be wifey), and sexy, sweet, Jessica Alba (his other soon-to-be-wifey), not trapping rats.

The movie was actually being re-released because Black Honey 3, was coming out soon. (Oh further joy!)

But, Lorna London was the epitome of everything he wanted in a woman: Black, gorgeous, smart and filthy rich!

And if she wasn't rich already, she soon would be. (Of course, Vince didn't know that Lorna wouldn't be starring in the third film, how could he? It wouldn't be hitting the theaters for another year.)

He normally went for darker black girls like Keshia Knight Pulliam, and Keke Palmer. And he couldn't get enough of Maya Campbell from In The House before the shit got cancelled. Her name had been Tiffany on the show if he recalled correctly.

But, from the minute he saw Lorna in a bit part on When Gladiators Bleed, Vince was hooked.

David loved her in The Game, but said the scene from the Gladiators Bleed movie where she was eyeing the blond F.B.I. agent as if intimidated by her, was a stroke of genius designed to show she wasn't perfect.

To show that as gorgeous as she was, she could still feel insecurity. To get her ready for deeper roles, he'd said. David also said, he wished he could write scripts for Lorna, so she could be around in Hollywood forever.

Vince smiled; he couldn't deny his best friend had gumption. But, it could also steer him wrong at times.

Paris Brown was David's current girlfriend, and sometimes, Vince found it weird being around her.

David met her one day while staying in Brooklyn, and Vince was insanely jealous, at first. She actually looked like Lorna London! Not just a little bit, either.

Exactly like her in the face, except she was much taller and bigger than her, body-wise. And her skin wasn't nearly as light as Lorna's. It was more a peachy shade, like the stunning Eve's skin.

It had shocked the hell out of him when his friend first brought her over to his apartment. David surprised him well; he had Vince smoke most of a dime bag of sour before finally going to get Paris from the hall.

"Wait until you see her," David had said, and giggled (which should have tipped Vince off, but hadn't). "Go on, take another pull, nigger," he'd said. "Don't front on the fucking blunt!"

Vince had done a pretty good job of hiding his emotions, at least he had thought so. But, the feelings of envy and exasperation he felt after meeting her, had nearly overwhelmed him.

Other than the actress herself, Vince didn't believe he'd ever seen a more beautiful female that hadn't been an illustration in some comic book.

But, David was such a cool nigger, so humble about his good fortune with pretty bitches, Vince had quickly come to accept it.

David was dating the taller, younger version of Lorna London. Period.

There was nothing anyone could do about it, either. And, the reaction they got in the streets was insane; it was like walking with a Hollywood star.

Jackass Frod from the Camelot (who loved to stand outside on the front steps as if he were a king looking over his kingdom) would barely even glance in their direction when they were walking with her down the block. Paris had the kind of body everyone noticed.

And, as for his mother (who had never seen Paris), she had no idea that her son had already seen Black Honey Two, five times.

Or, that Vince even had a clear bootleg copy of it on DVD. Not that he liked the actual movie that much; he mostly liked gazing at Lorna London.

But, he had still used the movie story as an excuse on the night he and David took the bus down to Gold Street to check out the area, beforehand.

After the movie (that he wouldn't be going to see), Vince said he and David were going to Burger King to eat. And, his mother had thumped down her beer on the kitchen table, spilling some as she stared at him.

"You got your mace on you?" she asked. "It's dangerous in this fucking city boy. And I hear the black gangs are targeting helpless Asian people, now. "

"Got it," he replied, patting his back pocket.

Vince hadn't heard any such thing, and wasn't too sure of how helpless the Asian people, were. But, he always carried his mace; and a few other things she knew nothing about. Condoms, for instance. The kind he liked to use on fine black chicks with fat asses.

He wasn't like David; his crush on Lorna London didn't affect his lust for other bitches in the least. Especially, for the big booty having darker ones.

And, if he could write a book, it would've been on his mother. He would've called it: 10 Ways To Make Your Son Hate Your Fucking Guts.

"Which theatre you going to?" her round, white face had asked him that night, and it was completely flushed with liquor. Even if her face wasn't as red as a fucking apple, the cloud of stale alcohol drifting about her body, gave her away. "Is it Lowes?" she said, and belched.

He told her Lowes, and she had nodded. "That's a real nice one," she said. "You can sneak in beers, but I always see those nasty black niggers smoking weed in there on Saturday nights. Hooting and hollering like wild fucking chimps!" she said, "so be careful boy. If they say anything to you, keep on walking. Don't try and be brave. I wish to God they'd all just disappear!"

She exhaled. "You got any idea how late you'll be getting back?" she added, in a sickeningly sweet voice.

A voice that he knew meant to bring her back some cigarettes and a six pack on his way home. But, Vince had heard this all before. Especially, the blacks disappearing from the face of the earth, part.

He wondered if his mother had ever really considered the implications of her wish? How much life would change and how drastically, if they were no longer in America?

Perhaps, he should write that book?

Vince grinned, letting his fingers slide across the metal cage. His mother rarely went to the movies, but got drunk and high when she did. Her and some of her friends from the building.

During a trip to Coney Island one year, she got so fucked up Vince had to carry her from the train station ten long blocks away. She kept singing that song from Matilda the entire way.

But no, he had told her that night. He didn't know how late he'd be getting home, since they were going down to lower Manhattan—and that was all he'd needed to say.

Vince had known she'd think he'd meant the Lowes closest to them. He also knew that mentioning lower Manhattan would seal the deal. It was the only place she considered safe in the entire city.

"The niggers are scared to go down there," she told him one night. "That Bloomberg's doing a damn good job. I wish he coulda fixed it so he could stay forever! Like he nearly did last time?" she said, one eyebrow raising. "God bless him!"

Probably because of the bright lights, and the tons of white policemen patrolling the area. That was Vince's bet. Simply taking a piss could get you locked up. And he viewed those periodic reports of black men raping white women down there with a good deal of skepticism.

As his mother had pointed out so eloquently, it didn't seem like much of a rapist hangout. Even if she thought only black men raped, or pretended to think that.

She certainly remembered what his brother, Eric, had done. He was currently in jail because of it.

But, Vince found it amusing that he was on his way to fuck with rats that could be carrying disease, rats that were certainly capable of attacking them as they crouched behind garbage cans in the dark (the rats in the alley had ripped the author to shreds one rainy night), and the location of the dangerous rats happened to be in the exact area his mother trusted the most.

This thought elicited a dry chuckle.

Footsteps clacked on the station floor, and Vince glanced up from his thoughts, just in time to see a young girl stroll by wearing tight jeans.

The beige construction boots on her tiny feet caused the clacking sounds, and something was blinking at her slim waist. Like a weird neon sign in Atlantic City, he thought.

Vince ignored it, and studied her. Her dark hair was dull, and limp, as if affected by the humid weather. Or perhaps she had just wet it?

Her pale skin was glowing; her arms were short and slender, they swayed as she switched past him. She had a very nice ass.

Vince noticed her perfume (a scent from Lorna London called Ms. Divine), just as he saw the name belt on her narrow waist again, it shone with electric lights. The battery operated name buckles were the newest fad, and apparently her name was Tina, something.

More than likely, Vince thought, something that ended in the letters E Z.

Her face wasn't as pretty as Lorna London's, but she was far from ugly. Vince saw her smiling at him, but he didn't smile back.

With his own pale skin, and wavy hair, she clearly thought he was Hispanic, as well. Vince wasn't, but actually got that a lot. Not a single day went by that he didn't have to tell some man or woman that he didn't understand Spanish.

And they never believed him.

Vince watched her cross the platform and go through the turnstile. She was frowning as she pushed through the metal bars. Probably, because he hadn't reacted to her tempting smile.

A part of him wanted to go after the girl, but he didn't. It was too hot to do a whole lot of moving around.

Plus, to follow meant paying a fare, which would defeat the purpose of him waiting on the benches outside the platform.

Vince glanced at the trap he was resting his arm on, and thought of a Rat King, again. When David first mentioned the book to him, and used the term, Vince had pictured just that: A king of the rats.

He figured it would have to be the biggest rat in history to receive that title.

He had already begun to construct a mental image he would compare against the illustrations in David's book.

But, to Vince's disappointment, not only weren't there any pictures of the Rat King (Vince had imagined something the size of a beaver, with ten-inch teeth, shining red eyes, and a long hairy tail), but the King Rat wasn't a king of rats, at all.

The author had relayed a story an exterminator friend of his had supposedly told him.

According to the man, sometimes rats dwelling together in a small area, got intertwined by their long thick tails. Enough tails, and the rats became knotted into a large ball of squirming fur. Sometimes, they crawled from the sewers at night like that, desperately seeking food. Exterminators referred to this disgusting phenomenon as a Rat King.

Vince guessed this was because the first person to discover it had probably thought it was a single giant rat they were watching.

If so, he thought that was perfectly understandable. Supposedly, the biggest Rat King was fifty-five Norway rats clumped together in a mass of creepy, scurrying claws.

According to the novel, Norways were the meanest of the three different kinds dwelling in New York. And when Vince had thought of all those rodent heads filled with sharp teeth, he caught the heebie-jeebies, and scratched for nearly five minutes.

The exterminator found the Rat King after lifting up an old rug in a Brooklyn backyard one evening.

The homeowner worked the morning shift at Octavia's Lizard Lounge down on Seventy-fourth Street, and complained that she'd heard the strangest squealing sounds late one night while she was desperately trying to sleep. The woman was quoted in the story:

"I first heard them when I got home one day," she'd said. "It was after doing a double shift and it was pouring rain. I thought my neighbor's dog had given birth to puppies in my yard, she'd done it before. But, when I saw Daisy in her doghouse, watching me, I knew better."

Upon hearing the low mewling sounds for himself, the exterminator thought it was simply a nest of rat pups nursing at their mother's nipples.

He followed the noise to the old Oriental rug and snatched it from the ground. At least thirty rats were writhing and twisting there on the damp earth.

The man freaked out when he noticed their size, and realized he'd only been half right. Because, some of the thick wet rodent bodies were facing away from the squirming mass, and there was no mother rat.

Instead, he saw the fluffy white remains of what to his disbelieving eyes, appeared to be two very large, very dead, poodles. The fluffy white fur was soaked from the rain. Gold colored leashes that had succumb to rust, were curled into loops on the muddy soil like snakes.

The snake-leashes were partially concealed beneath the mounds of dirty wet fur.

And when they finally noticed him, the writhing mass started jerking towards him, some of the rats shrieking and stretching the opposite way, as the exterminator dropped his flashlight and ran screaming from the woman's backyard.

The waitress from Octavia's Lizard Lounge had to sue the exterminator for the return of her deposit.

**********

Vince felt tiny things crawling all over him long after reading that. But, he still wanted to see one with his own eyes. And if possible, if it existed, he wanted to catch it on video. Because, clear digital video would prove it wasn't a hoax.

Trying to sell it to America's Got Ghosts or The Mysterious Truth had already crossed his mind. With the lame shit they usually put on cable shows, Vince figured a ball of living rats should be worth something.

He grinned. David wanted to capture one in his father's squirrel cages.

Vince didn't know if that was possible, his father never discussed the traps with him. Or why he was trapping the shits in the first place.

Something his mother had ragged his father about relentlessly. Ragged him right into his fucking grave, Vince often thought. But, catching one would definitely make his goal easier to achieve. What could be better than actually showing off a live one?

David didn't ask him, but he'd already connected the two cages like they showed in the book. It had been a surprisingly easy operation and unless they found one bigger than fifty-five rats, the cages should really work.

Vince grinned again, revealing vampire-like teeth. (He looked more like that person than ever, and he knew it.) The concrete beneath his feet rumbled, and a foul wind blew from down the tracks. Wrappers and pages of loose leaf swept from the rails to the platform and slid across the floor.

They arced from off the dirty cement, and did loop the loops in the bright station, as Vince heard the unmistakable sounds of an approaching train.

He peered down the tunnel, and saw a headlight glowing brighter by the second. The rattling sound swelled into a thunderous roar and straight ahead, beyond the row of turnstiles, he watched as a red train pulled into the station followed by a cloud of dust.

It flashed by him, the wheels hissing and screaming like a young girl in distress.

And for just a second, Vince thought he really heard a girl scream: "Help me!"

But, he knew it wasn't an actual girl screaming; it was only the wind mixed with the violent train noises. David should definitely be on this one, he thought. Now they could finally get started on their great adventure!

Vince touched the metal cage again, thinking of the notoriety finding the Rat King, and possibly even the rat kingdom, would bring them. Maybe he could somehow even get to meet her. One of the prettiest black girls ever.

Lorna London struck him as the type of chick who might appreciate such a wild discovery.

A discovery that had taken all kinds of courage on the part of the discoverers. She had no idea, but they were about to travel at least a hundred feet beneath the city where few people, if any, had ever been.

If the fables turned out to be true, they were about to enter an actual different world. Did he really believe that? Vince would reserve judgment on that question until later.

But, who knew what kinds of things dwelled down there! In a place that didn't have to worry about stumbling, bumbling, outrageously annoying, humans?

Vince was smiling in the musty station, his dick getting hard as he pictured her face. The incredible Lorna London's, lovely, dimpled face.

And, across the platform, the dirty red train finally rolled to a hissing stop.

10.

Sonia Takes A Licking

"Help me!"

David jerked his head to the left. He couldn't imagine what he was about to see, but the screams were coming from the girl. They had to be.

She was the only person sitting on that side of the train, the only other person back there, at all. But, what David saw was beyond his comprehension.

The girl was floating high in the air above her seat! In fact, her chest and stomach were nearly touching the top of the fucking compartment!

Her arms were thrashing about wildly, her legs were kicking out as if striking at someone with her sneakers. She whipped her head from side to side like the girl on The Exorcist had, as if trying to avoid the lips of an escaped rapist.

David sat stunned and everything was forgotten. Even his Queen. But of course, not completely forgotten. One glance at her face and the woman had imprisoned him; had somehow mentally enslaved him. Queen Lorna. He shook his head briskly to clear it.

David was staring at the girl as she spun in the air, her screams as loud as ambulance sirens in the car. She was struggling fiercely while rolling over in empty space as if being roasted above an open fire!

David glanced the other way to see what the other people were doing, now.

But, what he saw over there was no help at all. The man and the Asian woman carrying the bag had both disappeared! Holy shit! he thought, and sat up straight. Where the fuck did they go?

His fear was a hot thing surging through him, his pounding heart made it difficult to breathe. He looked up the aisle and saw that the entire car was empty!

Every single seat that had once been occupied, was barren! In a panic, David turned back to the girl, and saw something he hadn't noticed before.

Water was spilling out of thin air! Some of it was splashing on the girl's seat, and dripping to the floor of the train.

Water? David glanced up to the ceiling, but only saw empty space. She screamed again, a high-pitched warbling shriek, that curdled his blood. It was like she was being murdered right before his eyes. But, he couldn't see the damage being done to her body.

He saw no blood and no wounds at all!

And then, the girl suddenly turned her head towards David, opened her eyes, and stared directly at him!

David gasped with shock. Her eyes were so intense, and so clearly filled with pain, he nearly felt it!

She looked terrified. Her contorted, brown face really reminded him of Eva, now.

But, he automatically focused on her eyes and inhaled sharply. Her fucking pupils were gone! Her corneas were now clear circles of glinting glass!

David didn't know how he could see that from so far away...

"Help me!" she screamed. "Please! I can feel him digging into my fucking stomach!"

What was digging into her stomach? David didn't see anything except for her. And then, he thought of the water, and of the man in the black spandex suit.

David glanced down and saw the mountain bike. And, finally understood. No, he had already understood, he was just getting around to fully accepting it.

The man hadn't gone anywhere. He was still on the train, just invisible somehow, and was obviously hurting the girl! Somehow.

David's mind immediately tried to deny this theory, the acceptance of real magic, or whatever it was he was witnessing (he hated the very concept of real magic; the idea that there were forces beyond him, that could affect him, even control him), but he overrode his own mind with a thick mental grunt.

David heard a loud sliding noise to his left, behind him. He glanced that way, his heart racing, not wanting to stop viewing the girl because he had a feeling she too would disappear. And, what he saw would have made him stagger backwards a few steps had he not been sitting.

"Oh shit!" he screamed. His fear and indecision had vanished. The doors of the train were sliding open and he saw the wall flashing by as the smooth surface was slowly revealed!

The wind rushing into the subway car was the worse he had smelled so far. He quickly smothered his nose with both hands.

As a child, he once stumbled into a hole in the garden next door to his house that contained the decomposing body of a huge gray rat. When his little red sneaker punched through the decaying flesh, white maggots boiled from the furry mound and a gassy putrid stench had choked him and got in his clothing. He fell on it and some vile liquid had squirted him in the face; it came from the bloated body and David had screamed until his entire family came running. They found him crying hysterically in the dirt.

David didn't remember that incident from his childhood. He only knew that something spoiled was down there in the subway tunnels and he could smell it on the wind. Like the odor he'd noticed a few stops back, only much worse. He heard a hissing sound, the metal twang of hard objects plinking off metal.

Dust and debris blew into the car, sucked in by the passage of the speeding train. Pages of faded newspaper and crushed tin cans; shards of glass, and objects too blackened to name, were all flying through the open door. It felt like he was under attack by tunnel phantoms as the car thundered down the tracks, rocking violently.

David covered his face with one arm to block the airborne trash. Not to be thwarted, pebbles bounced from his chest and forearms instead, stinging his flesh.

A sudden dark movement flashed to his right, and he looked that way.

The girl was still floating and was desperately trying to get free from whatever was holding her. But, her body was beginning to float forward! She was headed for the open doors and the darkness beyond the speeding train.

David saw a frightening image: white wall was just outside the open door. Once she left the train, there wasn't room to do anything but smack the tiles.

He pictured her floating out into the black and immediately getting clipped by one of the lights. She would be decapitated instantly, and he actually saw it in his mind: Her lifeless head flying back into the train, her hauntingly pale eyes staring up at the metal ceiling...

David leapt from his seat and lunged for the girl. But, it was like jumping into a solid wall! The impact jarred his body hard enough to rattle his teeth.

He slammed to the floor like a bag of sand. Air rushed from his lungs, as he landed on his right wrist, crushing it with the force of his weight.

It felt like a scud missile just hit him.

David was dizzy, but could still hear the car rumbling down the tracks. Like the sound of a runaway rollercoaster going full tilt. He could still hear things flying into the train too, smacking the seats and the walls, and the floor.

He glanced up groggily, and saw the girl was almost to the open doorway. She was struggling in mid-air, trying to fight off whatever held her.

His heart lurched painfully as he struggled to his feet, trying not to put pressure on his wrist.

He managed to grasp one of the seats with his left hand and pull himself up. His legs ached and wobbled like jelly. His right arm hurt terribly. His head joined the party, beginning to pulse and throb like a rotten tooth.

David stood up, and grabbed the top of the plastic seat, desperately trying to steady himself against the swinging train. Trying hard not to stumble, he stared at the girl and saw she had finally reached the open doors.

Her body was beginning to rotate as she thrashed, steadily turning so her head could slide out first. She was attempting to look at him again, and he saw her screaming. But, could no longer hear her voice.

David thought of that weird man for a moment. But, then his image slipped from his frantic mind.

He had to move! And, if something blocked him this time, she would die. So, he gathered his feet beneath him, took two running steps and lunged, again.

David flew through the air and landed at the doors this time, the new rubber mats preventing him from sliding out the train himself. Pebbles and glass ricocheted off his face.

His hands were reaching for the girl's foot before he felt the impact of his feet hitting the floor. His fingers grasped one of her shoestrings; David wrapped the string around his fist, and pulled backwards with all his might!

The girl's body swung towards him in the air.

He thought of astronauts in footage from shuttles deep in space. And, when her head reached him, David immediately grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her from the doorway.

Her body slid backwards, like a woman being levitated by a magician. She came easily, so easily, David fell backwards and tripped over one of the seats, barely avoiding his hurt wrist.

But, he banged the back of his head pretty good on the nice new floor. He stayed on his back for a moment, breathing harshly and gazing at the ceiling.

The girl could no longer float, and crashed heavily to the floor right in front of him. David felt the impact vibrate through the rubber mats beneath him.

"Oh shit!" she screamed. She turned over, reaching for her spine. "That fucking hurts like a mother fuck! Goddamn!" she yelled.

She grabbed her right elbow next, still moaning as she sat up, and looked around. Then, she must have felt another twinge of pain because she suddenly clutched her stomach, and screamed, "Motherfucking shit! Ow!"

David watched her, feeling relieved. She had a gutter mouth but the fact that she was cursing was much better than what he had just imagined happening.

She couldn't curse without a fucking head!

Seeing that she was mostly okay, David carefully stood back up and glanced around. The train was still flying down the tracks, and the doors were still wide open. The wall was a flashing pale streak.

For the first time, David realized he hadn't seen any lights since the doors started moving. The air outside was solid black, except for the bright glow coming from inside the train. It painted the shadows in a layer of dirty frost while the horrible stench filled the car.

Was there a way to shut those fucking doors?

David suddenly thought of the man again and moved up towards the girl on the floor, as if to shield her. Where was he? If he was causing this X-Files shit, and David had already decided to accept that, it meant he was still in there, somewhere.

Maybe, standing right in front of him. Invisible and laughing silently behind one cupped hand.

"Get up!" David said. "Now, we've got to get off this fucking car!"

The girl was sitting on the ground, staring up at him. Her wide eyes sparkled like emeralds in the fluorescents. "Why?" she asked. "And go where?"

She touched her stomach, winced and glanced around the car, again. "What the fuck was lifting me like that?" she hissed.

She turned and stared at him. But, her eyes made his heart skip again, so David looked away.

He didn't know how to explain it to her, didn't know how to go about trying to explain it. He only knew he suddenly had a very bad feeling about the wildly swinging train compartment.

It suddenly felt like they were rushing towards certain death.

David glanced down and saw the man's mountain bike was gone. Just like he had figured it would be.

"We have to go!" he repeated and started towards the door that separated the cars. "Come on," he said, "you can walk, but I'll still help you if you need it!"

The girl slowly got to her feet. David grabbed her arm to steady her, then pushed her forward. "Come on!" he said. "We have to leave!"

The girl stumbled forward a few steps and nearly fell. She turned on him like a cat, her eyes wide and flashing. "Not so rough!" she said. "My fucking body hurts all over!"

"Sorry," he said. The boy glanced back over his shoulder. Nothing else had changed in the scene. But, David didn't think that would last much longer.

They hurried to the emergency exit, and David threw it open, and ran straight through. He could hear the girl breathing heavily right behind him. So close, he could actually smell her perfume, some pretty light scent that invaded his senses for a moment, but he quickly ignored.

From the moment he got on the train David hadn't looked into the next car. He should have checked the emergency doors to make sure they opened. This was one of his self-imposed rules regarding how to deal with his claustrophobia.

Even though he hadn't needed to use it on a train in nearly a decade. He also should have walked to the back of the train, because it was often less crowded at the end. The less crowded, the less it felt as if he were suffocating.

David hadn't done those things. So it was no surprise that when he opened the door and rushed through it, his very first thought was that he'd finally gone off the deep end. Mentally speaking, of course.

11.

Doppelgangers

Vince heard his phone ringing despite the train pulling into the Cranberry Street station. He had raised the volume just in case this type of thing happened.

He flipped it open, screaming harshly above the noise to make himself heard: "David?" he yelled. "Is that you David?" he screamed even louder.

At first there was only silence. And then, a dead voice responded (it was the only way Vince could describe it); a cold, lifeless voice that reverberated in his mind making him suddenly think of a strange winter scene:

A snow covered meadow beneath overcast skies. And in his mind, Vince even saw circling birds high among the mackerel colored clouds. Dark V shapes floating miles away. But, far across the snow covered meadow in his imagination, a scarecrow hung on a wooden post, his scarecrow's face seeming to raise slowly as Vince watched. He had shivered in spite of the stifling heat.

And then, there was that horribly lifeless voice:

"Hello? Vince? It's me, David. Get on the next train, Vince. It's important that you get on the very next train. Don't worry."

"Where the fuck are you?" Vince yelled. "I've been waiting for over an hour!"

"I know, Vince," the voice said. "Just get on the train, Vince. The next train. Don't worry about it."

"Why are you talking so fucking strange?" he'd asked.

It was David's voice, but didn't sound like David talking at all. It was more like a bad impersonation of the Egghead family from the old episodes of Saturday Night Live, he thought. The ones with Dan Akroyd and Chevy Chase in them. "Are you okay?" Vince asked. "You sound weird."

It was difficult hearing him with all the noise in the station. People were getting off the train, on their way to do whatever people did on beautiful mornings during the spring and summer.

He had been expecting David to be among them and was actually looking for him, but had a supremely bad feeling about the sudden phone call.

Hot air rushed along with the swarm of straphangers, bathing him in a whirlwind of piss and acrid tar odors.

"I'm fine, I'm the best," David's voice said. "So, we'll just meet up on Fifty-eighth Street, okay?"

"Why Fifty-eighth Street?" Vince screamed. "Why are you changing the fucking plans?" He grimaced every time he opened his mouth, from swallowing the repulsive scent. He could actually feel it going down his throat.

"No need to curse," David's voice said. "We'll meet up on Fifty-eighth Street, and go on from there. I forgot something important. The Queen must fucking die."

"Something like what?" Vince asked. Suddenly the urine smell was really bothering him. The heat was like a plastic bag around his sweaty head. A bead of moisture trickled down his face, and he wiped at it.

He ran one hand through his hair. What the hell had David forgotten? He was bringing most of the shit, himself. That's what his clumsy plastic bag was for.

All David had to bring was the fucking bait. He glanced up for a moment, focusing on the bright fluorescents.

"Something like what?" he repeated. And, David's voice suddenly changed back to normal. Vince thought he heard a thin buzzing sound, and then it was gone.

"If we see a Rat King you might want to film it, don't you think? And you'll probably need a video camera, a digital one? I'm bringing two of those. One for you, and one for me. How's that sound?"

His voice was utterly normal, even jovial. And Vince thought what he was saying sounded good, except he was already bringing his own camera. He wasn't going to rely on him for that. The real question was:

What the fuck happened to David?

The real David; because this person on the phone simply wasn't him. He had known him for too long not to know his voice by now. And this simply wasn't him. Like that Asian dry cleaner on Invasion Of The Body Snatchers, Vince thought. "That not my wife!"

The way David spoke, the little oddities he used in conversations, they had damn near created their own private way of communicating. Sometimes, they could convey entire thoughts with the way they said one word.

Vince didn't know what the fuck was going on, but he didn't like it. The air suddenly felt close and heavy, as if filled with a low electrical current. Like the sky just before a bad thunderstorm he thought, nervously.

The subway station was really beginning to sicken him. His head felt very light, as if he hadn't eaten for a long time. And he'd just had breakfast. Bacon, toast and scrambled eggs. His mother was a lousy racist drunk, but she could still cook a mean scrambled eggs.

"Look," he said. "If I meet you on Fifty-eighth, you'll tell me what's going on?"

"What do you mean by that?" David's voice said. "I told you already, I want to pick up some digital cameras. I forgot mine. They're infra-red cameras, night scopes that record straight to DVD. I just met a girl that knows where to buy them. She's taking me there."

Vince stopped. Infra-red digital video cameras? He had actually heard about them, somewhere. But, never actually saw one before.

Vince thought of his plans to sell any pictures he managed to take, and couldn't help grinning, couldn't help smiling. The image of Lorna London in a white string bikini flashed in his mind. It was a poster he'd seen on one of her unofficial websites.

But, it didn't occur to Vince to wonder where his friend suddenly got enough money to buy such expensive cameras, they would certainly cost an arm and a leg.

Those would be perfect! was what he did think. With infra-red, they could get right up on the rats. Sneak up behind them close enough to touch without having to move a fucking muscle! That would make for some pretty daring footage. Safe, daring footage, he thought.

His attitude suddenly changed. Perhaps, he was overreacting just a tad? Now that he thought about it, this did sound like David, didn't it?

At least, now it did. Maybe, he did seem a little strange in the beginning. But, it was pretty hot down in the train station. And with all the people, he could have easily misheard him. Only imagined the weird sound of his voice. The strangely flat, robotic sound.

And did he say he met a girl?

"You met a girl?" Vince asked. "Who?"

"You'll meet her," David's voice promised. "I'm positive you'll like her. She would never wear a tacky name belt with blinking lights on it, either."

Vince couldn't hear the last part because a train suddenly pulled in. (And he had a strange feeling there were other things his friend had said that he'd missed.)

"What did you say?" he screamed into the phone.

The rumbling sound filled the station as the C whizzed past, blowing musty hot air at him. He only heard David's voice as the train came to a rolling stop. But, he wasn't speaking now, he was giggling.

A weird, tittering sound, Vince had never heard him make. And then, after a few seconds, the train was pulling off again and Vince could hear David talking.

"I said she's mad pretty," David's voice said. "Almost as pretty as Lorna London."

"Where are you now?" Vince yelled, watching people spilling from the station.

His friend had just said he'd met a girl nearly as pretty as Lorna London. Vince doubted that (vaguely wondering about the weird coincidence of David mentioning the exact girl he'd been thinking about), since he was having a hard enough time coping with Paris.

But, it did mean that this girl was pretty damn hot! David's taste in females was impeccable. Nobody on earth could deny him that.

White girls, black girls, even Asians, Middle-Eastern girls, and Hispanics. That was one thing about black guys Vince had learned was the truth. They were honest when it came to a female's looks; race didn't matter.

"I'm outside, above the subway on Hamper Street," David's voice said. "Just go on down to Fifty-eighth, and we'll both meet you. She's interested in rats too, Vince. Imagine that? Isn't that a cool coincidence? Maybe, she can come with us to find the rat king?"

Vince frowned. Hamper Street?

That meant David had gone past Cranberry. Why didn't he just get off and meet him like he was supposed to? But, Vince was mostly thinking about seeing this mysterious girl now, and getting the rat footage.

His earlier suspicions had basically taken a hike.

He stood up from the bench, immediately feeling a tingling sensation in his legs as blood began to circulate again. The benches were as hard as slabs of stone.

Vince stretched and groaned as he held the phone to his ear. "I'm leaving now," he said. "Make sure you get those fucking cameras!"

"According to her, I'm right around the corner from the store," David said. "Consider them as good as gotten babe."

Vince grinned, as he quickly gathered up his bags. "Cool out, then," he said. "See you soon."

He pressed the off button on his cell phone and placed it in his backpack. He wouldn't need it on the train, and couldn't use it anyway. The electricity and metal down there fucked up the signal.

Now that he was reenergized, it only took Vince a few minutes to collect the equipment, and go get his metro card at one of the vending machines.

He carried his stuff to the black gate, and watched as a female transit worker suddenly appeared inside the token booth, surprising him. Vince slid his card through the slim metal box on top of the turnstile. The transit worker leaned over, and did something behind the counter.

Where the fuck was she? Vince wondered. She buzzed him through, and he entered the subway, glancing back at the token booth a few times. The woman was staring at him through the glass.

Vince turned around, and saw that the platform was empty. He saw benches, but no longer felt like sitting down. He was still hot. But, now the heat felt exciting, almost adventurous. As if he were about to journey into some wild, exotic land.

The C train pulled into the station. The woman's voice announced the stop, and the next destination, and the car opened up.

Vince carried his bags inside, and the metal doors closed behind him. He turned, and stared into the station's lobby as the train pulled off, wondering why he still felt so fucking nervous.

"Babe?" he whispered. David had never called him that before. It didn't really mean anything, but...his hands were sweaty, his heart beat was a dull, jittery thump. It felt like acid indigestion. And at some point along his ride two separate thoughts occurred to him.

The first one was that David had never said the girl's name, and they always began stories about girls they met by saying their names. That was only natural.

And the second thought was really a question: How the fuck did David know I wanted to film the rats in the first place?

It was supposed to be his little secret!

12.

Silence From The Meadow

David Jackson questioned his own sanity for only the second time in his young life. And he was desperately trying to cope with what he had literally just stepped into. But, it wasn't easy. And how could it be? The entire subway train had simply disappeared.

He didn't know this because he had turned and looked. He knew it by seeing the landscape that opened up before them, unfolding like the map in his back pocket would if he asked the girl to help him with it.

Running from one compartment into the next had reminded him of the impromptu flight he took to Florida the year before he met Paris.

David was selling drugs back then, and had to make a quick exit out of town after taking a base head's money. Eighteen hundred bucks.

He hadn't meant to steal the money, but after getting arrested that night, returning the cash he was holding for the woman wasn't a top priority. He'd been lucky to get it back at all; cops were notorious for stealing shit from the people they arrested.

The woman somehow heard that his supplier had bailed him out, and sent men after him. David heard they were waving guns at people around his neighborhood, so he hopped on a flight to Dade County where one of his childhood friends lived. After a collect call to him, he told David to come on, he would love to see him. He hadn't seen him in so damn long. What had it been, like five years?

A snowstorm had been raging when David stepped on the small Value Jet plane. But, it was summertime by the time he got off. It was the strangest feeling he had ever experienced, and was the closest he could come to trying to explain this sensation to himself.

Yes, the train had disappeared. The loud rattling noises and screeching echoes, had simply winked off. They had both fallen to the ground. And as far as David could now see in all directions, eventually including behind them, a carpet of lush green grass covered the fields and hills stretching off into the hazy distance.

Tiny white flowers dotted the landscape, and a light fog hung in the air, misting his face and tickling his nose. The temperature reminded him of autumn. That cool comfortable season right in between summer and winter. He could smell the scent of flowers in the wind. But, didn't know if the fragrance was coming from the white flowers he could see or from some other strange blossom native to the place.

Peering up at the sky, David had nearly fainted from shock. He didn't faint. But, did stagger backwards.

The girl actually screamed. Her voice echoed across the field, and David cringed for the third time that day. If anyone was within a hundred miles of them, they would have heard that. He only hoped they didn't come to see who had made the sound.

He had stared angrily at the girl. She said her name was Sonia Parker but her best friends called her Little Sonia. She was nineteen, a year older than him and Vince, lived in Brownsville Brooklyn where he lived before the Camelot, and from the minute they ran through the subway door, and wound up in this strange place, she hadn't stopped talking.

She had a million questions he couldn't possibly answer. And, David reminded himself: No more judging books by their fucking covers!

Look what had just happened when people tried to label Lorna London. Some black guy had actually written three fucking novels about her. Wildly imaginative books. And as far as David was concerned, she was now the most popular actress ever.

But, regardless of any of that, Sonia simply wouldn't stop talking.

"Would you shut the hell up!" David was forced to yell. And, she had finally stopped her yapping. She didn't stop completely, however.

David wasn't sure if she could, now that he had gotten her started. But, at least the conversation was much more manageable. Now, she actually waited for his response when she asked a fucking question.

On the train she had seemed reclusive.

No. The truth was, she had seemed as conceited as most pretty girls in New York City seemed to David. The type of girl that would never speak to a boy first, and rarely responded when spoken to. (It was one of the things about Lorna London that had intrigued him, that she approached men.)

Yet, here she was, unwilling to stop talking for even five minutes so he could think!

David had made the mistake of asking her what happened to her stomach, and she'd smiled, rubbing her flat belly. "Whatever it was, it's gone now," she said. "It felt like something was screwing into me. Something long, and fucking sharp."

"You said, you felt him digging into your stomach?" David asked. "Who?"

Little Sonia shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "I just got the impression..."

She paused, her face frowning. "I don't know!" she said. "So let's talk about something else!"

And then, she'd suddenly morphed into her impersonation of a motor mouth, slash, royal pain in the ass.

That was when David had been forced to shout at her after letting the mindless prattle go on for a few minutes. And, she had finally shut up. But, now, they were quietly walking across the green field, both of them thinking their own thoughts. David was actually searching for things that looked like they came from earth.

A water tower, a smoke-stack. But, he had a bad feeling he wasn't going to see anything fitting that description. The temperature seemed to be dropping steadily. His ears, and the tip of his nose, were cold, and they were both (he and Little Sonia) beginning to shiver. They needed to find some kind of shelter before nightfall.

If this place even has a nightfall, he'd thought, and shook violently. He absently fingered the cool object in his pocket. He'd only had time to get one of them, but he just couldn't leave it behind.

"Where the fuck are we?" Little Sonia asked, now. "Do you see that shit up there? Four suns? How the fuck is that possible? What kind of place has four suns?"

She was shading her eyes, and peeking up into the sky. She was right, there were four suns. That was why he'd stumbled. The suns were glaring brighter than a million strobe lights, and as long as he kept his head down, he was fine.

But, when he had tried to glance up, it was like shoving light bulbs against his eyeballs.

Bulbs that were on, and scorching hot. His eyes still stung around the edges, and he wouldn't make that mistake again. Next time would probably blind him.

"Didn't I tell you not to look up?" David said. "If you burn your eyes, you're on your own!"

He stared at the girl. She was barely blocking her face, but the rays didn't seem to be bothering her. Sunlight reflected in her semi-transparent irises like diamonds in the sky.

Looking at their odd color, David thought of bright campfires flickering on a dark, lonely desert.

Sonia stopped walking, and looked at him, both hands on her nicely curved hips. "You wouldn't really leave me if I was blind?" she said. "A damsel in distress?" Her voice was petulant, like a small child's. "Are you really that cold-hearted David?" she said.

Her head was a mess. The ponytail had come unraveled at some point and hair hung about her slim shoulders. David was stunned to see she had plenty of thick brown hair, damn near a lion's mane of hair.

It was blowing gently in the wind as Sonia stood there watching him. David didn't stop walking. Instead, he spoke to her over his shoulder:

"If you keep staring up into those suns," he said, "and damage your eyes when you know better, you're on your own! I'm no seeing-eye dog and this is no time for games! We've got to figure out where the hell we are!"

David turned, and kept going. Talking to such a beautiful girl that way, with such a pretty face and exotic eyes, had felt strange. He'd never dare talk to Paris that way!

Little Sonia started walking, then jogging to catch up to him. David had already noticed how the color of her T-shirt actually matched the strange vegetation they were traveling through.

"Wait," Sonia said, huffing. "Wait!"

Her hair was flowing back from her head like a brown cape. Sonia finally reached David, and walked by his side. She spun around, walking backwards; she was looking at him and shading her eyes. The wind blew, and she moved hair from her face.

"Where do you think this place is?" she asked.

Sonia half turned every now and then to make sure of the field behind her. "Is it possible we're in another dimension?" she said, breathing in fits and starts.

"Another dimension?" David said, and frowned. "You watch a lot of Sci-Fi Channel huh?"

He looked across the meadow at a cluster of low green hills. They collectively resembled the humped back of a sleeping dragon.

Sonia, grinned. "Sometimes," she admitted, "but I'm serious. Do you believe in shit like that? Flying saucers and ghosts, and shit? Because I do, too many people have reported seeing things for it to all be fake. I've seen some pretty strange things myself."

David suddenly thought of something, but he realized in the very next instant that he was already touching it. It was as if his hand had been acting before his mind got around to instructing it. The coin. The one with the pretty woman's face on it. Her face. Had he really seen that?

He pulled it out and looked at it. Sonia suddenly stumbled on a small rock and was forced to turn around for a moment. David took that split second to stare hard at the coin to see if what he thought he saw, was really there.

And to his utter shock, it was. It was Lorna London's face on both sides of the quarter! But she looked angry.

And then, Little Sonia resumed walking backwards. She grinned at him rather sheepishly, as if embarrassed because she had tripped.

"What were you looking at?" she asked him. "Before I stumbled?"

The boy had already re-pocketed the coin by then. "Nothing," he said. "It was just a rock in my pocket. I was just wondering what it was, that's all."

David glanced back at the real rock she had stumbled over. It was neon green, almost the color of the grass beneath them, and Little Sonia's shirt. He glanced at her face. She was moving in step with him, now. Her motion was loose and fluid, almost lithe, he thought.

Her small breasts bounced and she was clearly bra-less. Something about her walking like that was making him horny.

"Would you stop that?" David said. She was still huffing and puffing as she kept pace with him.

"Stop, what?" she asked. "Walking backwards?" She immediately faced forward again, surprising him. "Better?" she asked, and smiled.

David had only been talking to hear himself talk. He never thought she was actually going to listen, but she had. Sonia was walking normally, now.

She was looking at him through the corners of her eyes and from the side, they seemed to disappear they were so damn clear. David thought she looked kind of creepy. But, in a fuck-her-all-night, kind of way.

"Thank you for saving me," she said after a moment. "That was brave of you to help someone you didn't know. I owe you and don't know how to repay you. I couldn't have done it the other way around." She frowned and shrugged "I know how that sounds," she said, "but...weren't you even a little scared?"

David nodded, waving his hand at her. "I understand," he said. "No problem, sweetheart and I didn't mind saving you at all."

He sighed, thinking his Bogart impersonation needed a lot of work as he gazed ahead, still looking for any man made structures. Tall buildings, or even a log cabin with smoke coming from a chimney, would do. Anything that might prove people actually lived here, wherever the hell here was.

All he saw was more flat open space, not even a tree marred the vast landscape.

"I was scared to death," he said, finally. He looked at her. "You see shit happen in movies and say what you would do if you were the character in the film."

"Yeah!" she said, grinning. "I do that all the time. Like when some stupid bitch walks into a dark house and starts shouting, 'hello? anybody home?'"

David smiled. "Exactly," he said. "You say who the fuck would really do that, right? The difference is, when strange shit really happens, that core reality won't exist. The movie isn't real life as far as the shit that happens in it, but it's reality. A movie is a real thing."

"How do you mean?" Sonia asked. She was grinning again, her eyes seeming to sparkle beneath the bright suns, her hair blowing back in the wind. David thought she looked quite lovely like that.

He shrugged. "Somebody wrote the script," he said. "It came from someone's imagination. The things people make up are naturally based on our human perception."

David stopped speaking, peering hard at the crest of hills curving gently across the horizon. He shaded his eyes with one dirty hand.

The rays of sunlight felt like tendrils of heat probing at his face, trying to get at his eyes. He now wished he had gone back for his sunglasses, or at least his baseball cap, when he'd first thought of them back on Blake Street.

David was staring at an area where twice he thought he'd seen a bright flash, like something metal catching sunlight. He even thought he heard the tiny sound of a revving motor.

But, the flash didn't come again and was probably just wishful thinking on his part, he figured. He glanced over at Sonia.

"When stuff happens you can't explain," he said, "I'd bet it's always beyond reality and our imaginations. I doubt you'd ever see our actual nightmares in a movie."

Sonia frowned a little.

"Does that make any sense at all?" he asked almost shyly. It had in his head, but suddenly seemed rather foolish now that it had left his mouth.

He wished he'd kept quiet.

Sonia laughed, covering her own mouth with one cupped hand. David wondered why. Her smile was perfect as far as he could see

A sudden breeze blew cold against their bodies as they continued swishing through the lush grass. He waited for her to speak, watching her side profile.

"It makes a kind of sense," Sonia said at last. "I guess." She burst out laughing, again.

David laughed too, and then smiled. He had to admit the girl's personality was infectious. And she had a gorgeous smile, like Lorna London's, he thought, minus the dimples.

He wasn't in the mood for laughter, but she had just pulled it out of him like an infected tooth. She suddenly stopped chuckling and gazed at him. "Can I tell you something?" she asked him in a hesitant voice.

David shrugged, stepping over a piece of wood that had either been placed there in the grass by someone, or had come from a tree that no longer existed. Apparently, some of the trees in this place came in the color red, for the branch was a deep scarlet hue. A part of him wanted to go back and pick it up, and examine it, but he resisted the urge. "Go on," he said, "what's up shorty?"

Sonia sighed. "I once saw a movie on THIS that really freaked me out," she said. "It was about this community, right? They never explained where it was or who the people were, but they were clearly blacks and whites playing the characters. Anyway, at one point in the movie," she said, "there were reports of mysterious UFO sightings going on all across the country. As you would expect, the people in this community became more and more nervous as the sightings increased, until finally, the government, who had been represented by a white man in a dark business suit, decided he would reveal the truth to the community about these strange sightings."

"So, the government admitted they were real?" he asked.

She nodded. "Exactly," she said, " they said that aliens did exist, and that in a month they would let them meet them in person. They had apparently been on the planet, which I assumed was earth, though they never really said, for eons. But, didn't want to make themselves known until just recently for whatever reason."

"They didn't give a reason?" he asked.

"Supposedly, they were concerned that the inhabitants would go insane when they finally saw them up close," she said. "Which I guess was supposed to explain the increase in UFO sightings, though it didn't make sense to me. Unless, they meant that the more of them the people saw, the less afraid they would be when they finally revealed themselves? But, they only had to stay patient a while longer," she said, "and they would definitely meet them according to the g-man."

David thought about that as they continued through the grass. He imagined what would happen if their government ever really came out and admitted such a thing. Instead of dropping silly little hints here and there.

"What happened next?" he asked her.

"The man in the business suit had a huge black box flown in by military helicopter," she said, "and had it carefully dropped down right in the middle of the town. The box had the words: DANGER DO NOT TOUCH! written on it in giant white letters. The government man told the citizens of the community that the box contained one of the aliens, and that it was in some kind of hibernation state, and couldn't be disturbed for a week."

David grinned, feeling colder by the second. Despite the suns glaring high above them, the temperature was clearly dropping, and dropping fast.

"And they bought that?" he asked through chattering teeth, still shading his eyes.

"Oh yeah," she said. "They bought it. The government man warned them repeatedly not to disturb the box until he returned to open it for them. He claimed it was dangerous for many reasons, the main one, being that their relationship with the aliens was shaky and the government didn't want to damage it. But also, he'd said, because the alien might attack them if disturbed before completing the hibernation cycle."

"Let me guess," David said, "they opened the box too early and the alien didn't attack them, it died?"

"Interesting notion," she said. "But, no. What happened was, some of the people in the community decided they didn't trust the government man, and felt it would be smarter to open the box, kill the alien, and then kill the government man once he returned. Some felt the government man was really one of the aliens," she said, "trying to trick them."

David slowed up a little, staring at her. "And they did that?" he asked. "It sounds a little like a Twilight Zone I watched once. One of the black and white episodes."

"It was called, The Last Black Martian," she said. "But, it wasn't The Twilight Zone. It was a movie, and it was in color." Sonia waved one hand. "But, let me finish!" she said.

"Go on," David said. "It sounds good."

"The people got guns from somewhere and gathered around the black box one morning," she continued. "I remember thinking that it would serve them right if the aliens appeared out of the sky in a flying saucer just before they could open the box, and zapped their nosy asses!"

She giggled. "But, what actually happened was even better," she told him. "You see, there they were standing in the street, holding rifles and axes and baseball bats, about sixty people," she said, "not the entire community, just the ones that were brave enough to do it. And they all started creeping forward, towards the box. All they had to do was pull a white cord that was attached to the very top of it, and it would open. The man in the suit had told them that."

David finally stopped walking. "What happened?" he asked her. He was frowning and covering his eyes with both hands now. A nervous feeling had just come over him as if his heart already knew how it would end.

"When one of the men finally struck up the nerve to do it," she said, "a black guy ironically, he picked up the white cord and after glancing back at the huge crowd that had gathered in front of the box, many of them pointing rifles, he yanked on it." Sonia grinned up at him. "And there they were," she said, "the aliens."

"Aliens?" he said. "Not just the one?"

"Nope," she said. "Not one, about sixty of them. And some had rifles, some had bats, and a few had axes."

David frowned, thoroughly confused. "Sixty?" he said, "but why—?"

"It was a mirror, David," she said, chuckling. "A gigantic fucking mirror. The aliens were the people standing in the street! That was the secret, can you imagine that shit? I was stunned nigger. I hadn't expected that shit at all!"

She started walking again, leaving him behind this time. David hurried to catch up to her. "Did the government man come back?" he said, breathing heavily.

"He came back," she said. "In fact, the nigger had never left. He was an alien, they'd been right about that part, but he was only a messenger. He was standing in the crowd with them the whole time, watching them. In fact, he was the black man. And he went on to say how they, the community people, had been created by beings from another universe as a kind of experiment. Aliens that were different from him, he said. He had used this idea to explain their technological advances and their nearly god-like creative abilities."

"Did they have a name?" he asked.

She grinned. "Yep," she said, "and get this, they were apparently called the Sagittarius. Like the astrological sign? Isn't that strange?"

They kept on walking, David fully considering what the girl had just told him, and wishing he could have seen the movie himself.

"Do you like Lorna London?" he asked her suddenly, not knowing he meant to ask it. Or where the question had come from. He certainly didn't see any connection between her and the movie Sonia had just described.

And, when she immediately started grinning, David didn't expect that reaction at all; most of the females he knew couldn't stand her. He knew even Wendy Williams had a problem with her. Lorna looked that good.

It was rare that her name brought a smile to a female's face. (A female other than Paris, he amended.) And, Sonia's smile looked totally legitimate.

"Do I?" she said.

The girl suddenly stopped walking and turned to him, raising her green shirt and revealing a thin white undershirt that looked like silk.

David stopped walking as well, staring at her chest as if it had suddenly sprouted angel's wings.

He stayed that way for a long time, feeling stunned. Feeling the cold wind but in a distant way. Still smelling that alien blossom's exotic perfume, associating that scent with what he was seeing for all eternity.

Then, he broke out in deep, full throated laughter. The kind the medical world claims is beneficial to your well being to engage in as much as possible.

Sonia watched him, still lifting the shirt, and said: "I ordered it off of her website God's Gift To Men. com. It was two hundred dollars, and seemed like a steal to me at the time. Fuck that shit, I would have paid twice that amount!"

David finally got control of himself (a quiet part of him realizing he had been very loud just now, dangerously loud), and he stared at the girl standing ankle-high in the weird, green vegetation. The front of her shirt was basically a portrait of Lorna London.

It was the best picture of her he had ever seen in his fucking life. "That's beautiful," David whispered. "My God."

He didn't think it had been possible to like the woman anymore than he already did. The fact that Paris resembled her so closely made him like her even more.

Because, he just couldn't believe that they had the same personality, he refused to believe that. But this picture of her was the best picture he had ever seen in his life, period.

It was even better than his lost Especialito cover, and he'd always thought that was categorically impossible.

"Is she the prettiest girl in the fucking world?" David asked. His voice was so serious, he even frightened himself a little. "Look at that picture," he whispered, "at her perfect fucking face!"

"I look at it every day," Sonia said, dropping her top shirt. The image of Lorna vanished, and David felt a definite sense of loss in his mind, and in his heart.

Wow, he thought. I have it bad! That shit felt like actual physical pain! And he could still see her image in his mind, a part of him actually wanted to lift Little Sonia's shirt again, for just one more look.

"I want one of those," he said, feeling a little like Gollum lusting after his precious. "That's a classic and if I were you I'd laminate it, goddamn, she's blessed! What was God trying to do to us?" he asked her.

"I already have a laminated portrait," she said. "I keep it over my bed, and talk to her when I'm feeling fucked up inside. It actually helps, too. When I stare into her face, into those eyes...she's so damn gorgeous, and that dimpled smile makes me feel so fucking good, I..."

Sonia stopped suddenly, glancing up at him. She was clearly embarrassed by this display of emotion. David actually thought it was rather awkward, himself.

But, whatever she saw in his eyes, or didn't see, made her continue. "I trust her," she said simply. "It may sound nuts, saying that about a person I don't know, but it's the truth. I wish I could meet her one day. She's so fucking confident! And yet, she still reminds me of a cuddly little kitten. I know I wouldn't mind cuddling up with her!"

"What would you say or do if you met her?" he said.

Sonia grinned. "You mean after fainting? I'd give her a big ass hug, then I'd probably talk her fucking pretty ears off, asking her how it feels to be her."

David smiled, trying not to think that talking Lorna London's ears off would be easy with her mouth (but still thinking it), and said, "Let's keep walking Little Sonia. We have to try and find people or at least some kind of buildings. It's getting crazy cold out here."

They started walking again. The weather was still fall-like, as if spring and summer had been leapfrogged in this odd place, and it would soon be time for heavy jackets. David didn't plan on being there when that really happened. Besides, he wasn't sure if the place even had seasons. For all he knew this one was the only one.

The suns were still incredibly bright and hot. It was a strange sensation; it felt like he was standing outside during the winter with his face over a bonfire.

"Are you surprised I'm not jealous of her?" Sonia asked, almost breathing it. "Every bitch I know is. I don't get it, they should feel blessed. She's the hottest actress to hit the country since Sharon Stone and Jessica Biel. And that's coming straight from a black girl, okay."

David grinned, hiding his shock. "Are you sure you're from my planet?" he asked. "I know what you mean, though. I'm in the fucking shelter because of her."

"You're in a shelter?" she said.

"Yeah," he said. "My mother's not into white girls. And in her book that includes every race that isn't clearly black. I know Lorna London's half black. She does too. But, it's the light skin with her, and the long, straight hair. And especially the eye color. Shit, she hates Rihanna too. And, she's from Barbados!"

Sonia smiled, glancing at him slyly. "So I guess that means you couldn't fuck with me, right?" she said. Her smile only faltered a little as she carefully studied his face. "Because, of my eyes?" she went on. "Would your mother accept me?"

David kept pace with her, striding through the tall plants. "Nope," he said, finally. And shrugged. "Your eyes are too light, you'd have to wear dark brown contacts to hide them. Or, maybe some sunglasses."

He managed to keep his face perfectly straight for about six more strides. He was waiting for her to turn before he started smiling. But, he could no longer hold it in, and burst out laughing.

13.

EARTH QUAKE

Little Sonia's face had dropped a little after David answered her question, which in her world would have immediately been answered: "Fuck him, or her, or them! You're a fucking dime, baby!"

She never had a hard time getting dick when she really wanted it, from merely big to humongous (no black female did, Sonia thought the media was rather silly.) Even though some boys were prejudiced, and most were intimidated by her eyes.

But now that she could tell he was only joking (she had nearly turned around before his stolid expression broke), she felt a deep sense of relief.

David was extremely cute, and she was starting to really like him, though he was a little shorter than the guys she usually fucked with. And he apparently liked Lorna London too, which wasn't so strange.

It was just that he hadn't asked her if she were a lesbian and that was a definite change. She knew most boys didn't think a female could not be jealous of a stunning girl unless it was because she wanted to suck her ass and pussy.

"You're crazy," Sonia said. She chuckled as they continued through the grassy field. They had been walking for a very long time, and the scenery wasn't changing, and gave no hint of ever changing.

Sonia was beginning to think she was right about her other dimension theory. This place didn't feel anything like earth. "What did you mean when you said, Lorna London got you put in a shelter?" she said, glancing over at him.

"My fucking mother," David said. "The first day she saw my new poster of her, she went crazy. Asked me if I liked them light skinned with long hair. As if it was a fucking crime. She didn't do it that day, but she eventually ripped it right off my wall, ripped it in half."

Sonia, gasped. "Why?" she said, absently stroking the front of her T-shirt. "Why would she do that?" she whispered.

David shrugged. "Because life isn't fair," he replied, "that's why. Because, she's one of the prettiest women to ever live. And that's not just saying shit to be saying it," he said. "It's to the point now, so many women get called stunning, and incredible, how can those same words be used to describe almost extraterrestrial beauty like Lorna London's?"

Sonia, giggled. "She's the prettiest fucking E.T. I've ever seen!" she said. "You're right, though. She's the type of chick you just can't stop staring at. Her beauty is fucking lethal."

"Yeah," David said, still walking. His legs were beginning to get tired from high stepping through the grass. "I hit my mother that night," he said in a near whisper, "and she kicked me out. I don't blame her for it, what else could she do? I also wouldn't change a thing if I could."

David stopped walking and stared at Sonia. "This wasn't just about Lorna London's looks, though," he said. "Me hitting her that night wasn't really about a poster, not when she's is in my heart, in my soul. It was really about something I witnessed years ago."

Sonia moved closer to him. "Where? And what did you see? It involved your mother?" she said.

David looked away, back towards the area where he thought he saw the flash. "I'm not going into it right now," he said. "It brings up shit I'd rather not face at the moment. I'm doing the best I can as it is, not to go stark raving nuts. Let's just say, my mother's hatred knows no limits."

"Okay," Sonia said, raising her hands. "No pressure. But, if you decide..."

"Thank you," David said, and exhaled.

He kept walking and after a brief moment, Sonia followed. The hills on the horizon seemed to be getting a little closer, but not much. David could see where the land seemed to slope a little off to the right. But, that was all he could see.

No buildings, and no trees. He shook his head, sighed, and kept going.

"I read about her," David said, after some time had passed. Sonia had been staring up into the sky for awhile, and jerked in surprise at the sound of his voice.

"What?" she asked, glancing at him. He had been watching her the whole time.

"Lorna," he said. "I read articles on her. She's no normal female. She's something special, and I think chicks are in trouble. I'm a Sagittarius too, and sometimes...well, she reminds me of me. I know how that might sound, but..."

Sonia grinned. "You're a Sag?" she said. "Sags are usually aggressive, strong willed and stubborn. Like Nicki Minaj. You don't seem like any of those things."

David stopped walking, and stared at her. "Sonia," he said. "I'm a eighteen year old kid living in a shelter because of my fucking stubbornness. Because, I don't give in to bullshit, and call it how I see it. I didn't have to put her posters up," he said. "I could have pretended she isn't black like my mother does. I could have made believe she doesn't captivate me. What the hell are you smoking?"

Sonia smiled a sarcastic smile. "Yeah, guess you're right," she said. "Sorry."

David continued walking. "No need to apologize shorty," he said. "But, I was scared to read her interviews, can you believe that shit? She affects me that much! I was afraid of what she might say, she can say anything and get away with it." He frowned. "For now, at least. But, I've never heard of any woman talking the way she talks. I'm damn near scared of her at times."

"That's what she acts like!" she said. "You're right, now that I really think about it. She reminds me of a tough, street smart, black chick. The kind that join girl gangs and go around fucking people up for no reason. Didn't she run away and like, steal her mother's car a few times?"

David nodded. "Yeah," he said. "And there's always at least one in the gang who's so pretty, it makes her attitude that much more shocking. It's impossible to imagine them robbing and stealing, or whatever. And that makes them scarier, somehow. That's her."

Sonia, laughed. "Lorna London," she intoned. "Hottest rebel queen in the galaxy! Stay off the streets when she hits your town, or you're dead!"

Sonia cracked up, and David found her extremely cute when she laughed.

The laughter trailed off, and David said, "Do you like her acting?"

His voice seemed shy to his own ears, as if he didn't want to hear her say no. But, he was relieved when Sonia grinned. And, was thrilled to see it was the genuine article.

"She's real fucking good," she said. Sonia slowed up, staring around. She was slightly ahead of David most of the time, and now he walked up to stand beside her.

"I was nervous about her new movie," she said. "Because, I heard this critic bitch insinuating she was just eye candy. I think if she gets the right scripts, and the right directors, she'll always knock them dead!"

David's face frowned. "Enough of this for now," he said. "I need to ask you something important."

He stared at Sonia long and hard. "Tell me the truth," he said. "Does the sun bother your eyes?"

Sonia lowered her head for a moment, then looked at him. "When I heard you screaming back there," she whispered. "I didn't know what to think." She stopped talking, and exhaled.

Sonia looked straight up, shocking David. His heart actually boom-bapped! in his chest. "I saw you holding your face," she said. "And I could smell them..."

She stopped viewing a sky the color of burnt amber, and stared at him. "I didn't feel anything," she said. "Nothing, but was afraid to say so."

"Why?" David asked. His heart was still knocking; the way she had just gazed up at the sky probably took a year off his life. But, nothing had happened to her! David couldn't imagine what would have happened had he done that.

Sonia shrugged. "I don't know," she said, "I guess I felt kind of guilty. Don't ask me to explain why."

David stared at her for a moment. The intense sunlight filled her eyes with flame. They were no longer completely clear as they had been back on the train, the irises were normal now.

But, still very pale, and they looked amazing against her rich chocolate complexion. Her skin looked moist and supple, like double fudge cake, he thought, and he suddenly wanted to touch it. To taste it.

"What do you see when you look up?" David asked her. "How does the sky look right now?"
"The sky looks like sunset on earth," Sonia said. She did it again, looked straight up. "On our planet, sunset means the sun is going down right?" she asked him. "Well, these suns are still high in the sky and shining bright. It's still kind of dark. Overcast, I think it's called. Creepy shit, and hard to explain." She shivered violently, grabbing herself. "This is a weird place!" she hissed.

"And it doesn't bother you at all?" he asked. "The sunlight, I mean?"

Sonia shrugged, again. "Nope," she said. She offered him a wan smile.

David didn't know what to make of that. He slowly surveyed the area, frowning deeply. "Something's not right," he whispered.

And, Sonia frowned too. "What is it?" she asked, shading her eyes. "You see something?"

David looked at her, but didn't answer. He didn't know what it was. Not if by "it" she meant something besides the fact they were in another fucking world.

He had scoffed at Sonia's talk of other dimensions. But, that was exactly what came to his mind when they ran through the doorway. A huge part of him hoped he wouldn't regret making that snap decision.

But, it was too late to worry about it now. And the sunrays not affecting her was one thing, the weird temperature was another.

It was much cooler here than the air outside the subway station had been. The rays were much brighter, and had burned his fucking eyes.

But, the heat felt less intense. Still hot, he could still tell that it wasn't four moons up there. But, in no way was this place operating under the laws of physics that governed earth.

He covered his own eyes and looked around. Yes, something was missing. Something that went along with a spring or summer landscape, but you didn't notice unless it was no longer around. Something you...and then it came to him.

"No butterflies!" he shouted, his voice booming and echoing back to them. He covered his own mouth with both hands, then said: "Sorry about that."

"What?" she asked. "What did you say?"

"The butterflies," David said. "Look around you. Do you see any?"

Sonia turned and looked across the grass in all directions. "You're right," she said. "What the fuck does it mean? You have any idea?"

"I don't know," he said. "It's not just the butterflies, though. I don't see any insects at all. And, I bet there are no birds in the sky, either."

Sonia glanced at the sky. "I don't see anything moving," she agreed. "I see what looks like clouds but they're red, maybe purple. With a strange light glowing in their middles. I can't hear any birds, either. All I hear is the wind. You hear it?" she whispered. "Sounds fucking spooky, doesn't it?"

David nodded. "Yeah, the wind. It sounds artificial," he said. "That's the only way I can describe it."

The sound reminded him of air blowing down a corridor. A hollow noise that seemed out of place in the vast, open space. She was right, spooky.

"I know what you mean," Sonia said. "Maybe we should..."

When the ground erupted as if from an explosion, they both screamed as huge chunks of field were flung into the air, blocking out the sunlight!

The sky was suddenly raining dirt, and grass, and sand. And, this wasn't normal sand.

David thought it looked more like a mud slide as it rolled from a rent in the ground, and poured down the newly created slope! He heard Sonia screaming, heard metal scraping stone right beneath them as the land crumbled away in a funnel shape.

The funnel's opening looked tiny and was at least five hundred yards below! Little Sonia was already swept away, and was moving towards the hole. She looked like a girl on a water slide at Action Park. Only, this was swiftly flowing sand instead of rushing water.

The ground trembled again, and then it took David too! Sonia was shouting his name. He saw her far ahead of him, rolling head over heels down the hill. A pale cloud of dust followed her tumbling body. And the sand beneath her was now like lava flowing from a volcano. "David help me!" she was shouting. "David!"

But, David couldn't help her. He was trapped in the sand as well, and was picking up speed.

The scraping noise came again. This time the ground far below exploded, and a gaping hole appeared at the bottom of the hill! When the dust settled, David saw huge eyes peering up from the dark gap! They filled the space from side to side like muddy strobe lights.

Somehow, David saw the membranous lids, and could see the corneas were squash yellow with jet black slits right down the middle; a reptile's eyes! And then, the eyes began to wiggle and push through the hole!

They were attached to a slender gopher's head, he realized, a giant gopher's head! The fur was golden brown and covered in dirt. David was sliding rapidly through the sand towards those hateful eyes!

The wind blew grit and dust in his face making him cough harshly.

The creature shoved its snout through the hole, and he saw what he had mistaken for dirt, was actually a nest of insects! They must have been huge to see from so far away, but they were climbing through the long hair on the creature's head. Some of them dropped to the ground, and scuttled madly through the sand!

Then David gasped with fright.

The creature was crawling out! Impossibly, squirming through the much smaller opening. And when the first set of claws ripped through the ground, David knew he'd found the source of the scraping noise.

I have to slow up! he thought, hysterically. I'm sliding straight to it!

"Sonia!" he yelled. David tried to point, to warn Sonia about the monster, but only leaned sideways in the river of sand. He reached out frantically, pawing at it, but the sand was sweeping him along, drawing him closer and closer to the hole at the bottom!

As David fell, the creature began clawing at the ground. It freed both massive arms, and a deep sense of unreality washed over him. Its nostrils were huge slashes to either side of its massive jaws. Its body was covered in eyes peering through the fur in a hundred directions!

David looked away in disgust when the eyes rolled his way. He glanced down the newly formed hill, and saw Little Sonia. She was now clinging to a thick root revealed by the violent upheaval of land and was rocking with the wind.

She didn't notice the monstrosity below her.

Where the fuck did that wind come from? David wondered, trying to breathe against the flying grit.

"David!"

Little Sonia was staring up at him, dust was rushing past his face in huge clouds and he could hardly see her. But, the thing had nearly freed itself completely; he saw that. It howled terribly, its ugly face pointing to the vast orange sky.

Huge jaws yawned, revealing what seemed like a thousand teeth. The teeth of an Angler fish deep in the ocean, David thought.

Some slimy black substance dripped from the corners of its mouth to the ground below. Bugs scurried over to the liquid and wallowed in it. He could actually see them doing it.

Sonia turned, saw the creature, and started shrieking. The thing continued to wail, and David tried to shift his body on the hill as he slid, wanting to reach her before it was too late. She was clearly having a hard time holding on, and her frantic movements weren't helping.

David saw the alien beast drag the rest of its body from the collapsing hole. The claws dug into the ground, jerking the torso forward until it was completely out.

Its body slamming to the ground made the world rumble and shake. It was standing on two squat legs that seemed too small to support the weight of its gargantuan head. David thought of a Tyrannosaurus Rex except this thing didn't have a tail. The talons at the end of its toes were many times the length of the claws on its forearms.

They made deep grooves in the dirt as it stood there, sinking into the sand. David thought he may have seen the thing before, but couldn't imagine where. And didn't care, not when he was sliding down a fucking hill towards it!

The beast turned from Sonia, roaring wildly, shaking its head like a wet dog. Her screams split the air and the creature heard her screaming.

David didn't see any ears on its deformed head, but didn't doubt it could hear. Its gigantic cranium swiveled slowly, searching for the source of that shrill sound.

The eyes on the body located Sonia first, and started blinking crazily, like Christmas lights.

It finally saw her hanging from the slope and took a lunging step forward. The ground vibrated and she screamed again. It roared back at her, as if mocking her terror.

It was a terrible noise, and David wanted to weep, even as he slid to his certain death. It reminded him that he would soon be within its reach. Not far to go now, and the sand wasn't slowing.

David suddenly slid even faster, his ears filled with the sounds of the swishing, sliding ground, and Sonia's screams (he wished she would stop yelling like that, stop fucking provoking it!), but he couldn't blame her.

The thing was beyond any comic book creature he had ever seen.

And that thought triggered another one.

He recalled his nightmare about riding the subway, and coming to a stop somewhere in a strange desert! A dream that had plagued him the entire winter. A desert that was filled with writhing four foot long rats.

Was this that same place? he wondered. And if it was, how the fuck was that possible? But, there was no time to worry about that.

The black bugs crawling through the fur were now jumping off the monster and speeding towards them! Here, finally, were the insects he had wondered about.

"Hold on!" he shouted down to Sonia. "I'm coming, just don't let go!"

David didn't know what he would do once he reached her, but he couldn't let her fall. And then, he heard multiple booming thuds, and felt the ground shake and shudder.

Sand spilled from beneath him at a faster rate, making his body speed up, and he was flying down the hill, now!

The creature was trying to scramble up the slope and reach Sonia. Its yellow eyes were rolling frantically, the ear-splitting howls had turned into thick, maniacal grunts.

Sonia saw him, the monster hop-creeping towards her, and screamed even louder.

David didn't think that was possible and hoped she wasn't damaging her fucking throat. He didn't think a human throat had been designed to make such a sound.

David saw movement, and glanced from her to the air around him. Hundreds of black objects were now steadily advancing in his direction! The bugs were coming! They were speeding up from the bottom of the hill like a swarm of black bees.

He could even hear the alien buzz of their wings like motorboats whizzing through the cool air.

14.

Vince Learns To Think

Vince realized something was wrong the instant the train doors slid closed. After a few seconds, he sat down in one of the double seats located by the emergency exit, placed his bags beside him on the floor, and exhaled.

Sitting back, he tried to remember what David had just told him; that had been a very strange conversation, to say the least . A jumble of ideas and images swirled through his mind; all of them frightening.

Now that he was out of the stifling station he could try and think. When he breathed, he didn't have to cover his nose, and the air wasn't as hot as a furnace.

Even the dimmer light coming from the overheads seemed to bring a measure of clarity to his thoughts. And unlike the cesspool of odors coming from the tunnel at Cranberry Street, the car was a little stuffy, but was otherwise odorless.

Vince thought about the mysterious phone call he had just received. At one point, he was convinced the person wasn't really David. Which meant what? he wondered. That he was an imposter?

But, that wasn't a rational thought. Things like imposters and doppelgangers, only existed on television, and in movies, and he knew that.

The best scene he'd ever viewed involving body doubles, was on an old episode of The Twilight Zone. One of the black and white ones.

It turned out aliens were duplicating humans. At the end of the show, the first man who'd been copied was chasing himself down a dark shadowy street. The camera showed the alien's face as it ran away laughing, easily outdistancing him.

No matter how fast the real man ran, he simply couldn't catch up with the alien, who had looked just like him.

Vince had had nightmares about that episode for three whole days. But, in real life, there were only humans and that was it. Each of them unique in their own way, even in the case of identical twins or triplets, or whatever.

And, no two people on the planet were exactly alike.

Vince knew that, as well. Yes, sometimes people posed as look-a-likes, or imitated other people's voices, and made good money doing that.

People like Jimmy Fallon, for example.

And, Paris really did resemble Lorna London. (How fucking lucky was David?)

But, they weren't identical.

People came in single servings, so noticing the difference between David's voice, and the one on the phone, had been relatively easy.

The robotic voice, even taking into account David's sometimes wacky personality, still hadn't sounded anything like him. Those weren't the words he used, or the way he used them.

Later, the voice had changed, and seemed more like David's voice. But, by then, Vince was already suspicious. And he was over the mental hiccup regarding the cameras. He was now glad he'd gone along with it. But, still felt stung after being so easily tricked.

David said to meet him at Fifty-eighth Street. He was supposedly going to pick up some infra-red digital video cameras. Vince couldn't believe he had fallen for that bullshit. Even for a fucking minute.

David was broke, he barely had money for the damn subway, but there was no such thing as cameras like that any fucking way!

In fact, Vince only recalled hearing about such a device because David himself, had thought it up. He actually made it up while Vince was smoking weed in their room at the Camelot one day. It was back in the winter time, during a bad December blizzard that had suddenly appeared from nowhere.

At least, the weather reports hadn't mentioned it. But, the three of them had gotten toasted. and Vince could recall spending most of that day staring at Paris, and feeling shy and highly self-conscious around her.

Just about every move she made had reminded him of Lorna in her last movie. The camera angles the director had used on the actress's face in the film, were spectacular.

Vince would pause certain shots and carefully study them. And, he was studying Paris's face that same way as the snow fell and the wind howled outside their small shelter window.

They were all sitting on the bed, and David was as high as a kite. He'd suddenly started talking about binoculars, and telescopes, and microscopes. Vince knew he loved science, and the various gadgets that scientists used, ever since he was ten.

He told Vince and Paris that one day they would come up with a video camera that had infra-red built in. "They probably already have it," David, had said. "If so, it's in the military. They'll probably reveal it after they invent something even more efficient."

David had pulled deeply on the blunt, and coughed out a cloud of smoke. "This is some excellent shit," he said, grinning. "We gotta get some more!"

David actually used the words efficient and excellent. He always used white words when he got high, and started in with the science talk.

But, Vince (wondering who he meant by they) only nodded his head, because he couldn't think of anything to say. He normally had no interest in David's science stuff. But, the idea of a video camera that could see in the dark, was kind of fascinating.

David had gone on to say that with the way technology was advancing, he wouldn't be surprised if they put such a camera on the market before 2015. But, there was no such camera on the market now. So why had he just made that shit up? Vince wondered.

And such an elaborate lie, too. As soon as they met up, Vince would realize he was lying. So, the only answer he could come up with, was the simplest one: Doppelgangers.

David was no longer David. Just like the man on, The Twilight Zone had no longer been himself.

Crazy as it seemed, that was the only conclusion he could come to. So who was the boy he had just spoken to? The boy who knew exactly what to say? Knew exactly how to make Vince go along with him. And he had gone along with him, if only for a brief time.

It was embarrassing, but he couldn't deny it. So, assuming this lunatic shit was the truth, where the hell was the real David?

These were all excellent questions, but none he could answer at the moment.

Vince exhaled, staring at the floor of the subway car. Something just wasn't right! But what? He put aside the creepy body double thoughts for just a moment.

David had damn near twisted his arm to get him to join him. And now he was changing up the plans without warning? David never changed a plan once he'd made up his mind to do something. Not until the first plan had failed completely.

They were going to study rats up close. And his first reaction to David's suggestion had been to feel his forehead, to see if he was maybe running a temperature. But, he felt that his forehead was cool, just before David smacked his hand away.

"Are you crazy, son?" Vince had asked him. They were sitting on Vince's bed, watching both Black Honey movies again. He hadn't watched movies that many times since The Lord Of The Rings and Underworld, and they'd had three parts each.

David had laughed. "Nope," he said. "I just finished reading this book on rats, shit was good. The author went down to lower Manhattan over by Gold Street, and started watching them."

"What for?" Vince asked. On the television, Lorna was staring up at the camera, and looking hot. Vince felt that it was her second best angle, right behind her full frontal shot.

"Because he wanted to," David said. "I think it was right before the twin towers fell. Anyway, he kept going down there for a whole year and wrote about the weird things he witnessed."

Vince had turned from the movie to look at him. "What kinds of things?" he asked him.

David shrugged. "All kinds of things," he said. "What I liked most, was shit he heard from exterminators. One of them gave him a map that supposedly led to a rat kingdom located far beneath Manhattan. The shit looked real to me."

Vince had snorted laughter. "A what?" he said, "yeah, right. And you believe that shit?"

David's face stopped smiling. "Why not?" he asked. "Why isn't that possible?"

"I don't know," Vince said, hesitantly. "Because it just isn't. A rat kingdom?" He grinned. But, the grin seemed false. "Did the writer ever find this place?" he asked him.

"He never tried," David said, glancing at the television. "Said something about not wanting to disturb such a place even if it existed. He said he only put the map in the book, because—"

"The map?" Vince interrupted him. "There was a map in the book?"

"Yeah," David said. "Are you listening to me?"

He pressed the pause button on Vince's Playstation controller, and the movie stopped in mid-action.

On the screen, Lorna London was captured in a clear shot of her smiling face. Not for the first time, Vince imagined David replacing Paris with her.

"He promised the exterminator he would put it in," David said, turning from watching Lorna London's face. "They were friends from before he started writing the book—it looks like a real map to me."

"Where's the book?" Vince asked, exhaling. He ran a pale hand through his wavy hair.

"It's at home, I'll show you later," David had said.

"Yeah, I want to see this map. It's of the sewers?" Vince had asked him.

David grinned. "That's the point," he said. "The map is at the very back of the book. When the author mentioned it, and what page you could find it on, I immediately turned to look at it. Guess what?"

"What?" he whispered.

"It's not a map of the New York City sewer-system," he said. "You can see the sewers in the drawing, but the map actually begins beneath the sewers. According to the legend on the side of the diagram, the entrance to this kingdom is above ground. But, a tunnel leads down to another area five hundred feet below. I wanna at least go a hundred," he said.

Vince had stared at him. "The rat kingdom?" he whispered. "You think it's really there?"

David grinned. "Uh-huh," he said. "And I'm going to look for it. Wanna come?"

And, that was how it began. Vince had resumed the movie, but was much too distracted to do more than glance at the scenes with Lorna London in them.

He was pretending to be disinterested on the surface. But, somewhere along the way, Vince had become very interested.

Now, he sat forward on the subway chair, thinking hard. The train was rocking gently, bouncing him a little on the smooth, plastic seat.

Stop the fucking presses! Vince thought suddenly. David hadn't stepped to a girl in ages.

Not since he met the the new Lorna London, anyway. So who was this girl?

No. Real first question: Did Vince believe there really was a girl? If he was going on the assumption that he hadn't really talked to his friend, why should he believe anything the person said?

David (or whoever) hadn't even said the girl's name.

Vince could feel the train traveling along the tracks, vibrating through his body, and it suddenly occurred to him that the car seemed abnormally quiet. The usual murmur of conversation, and the tiny sounds of I-pods and C.D. players he was used to hearing, were absent.

It felt like he was sitting alone in a dark graveyard.

Vince looked around and really noticed the train for the first time. He couldn't help inhaling in shock; he hadn't ridden a train this bad in years.

It was a much older model, and looked disgusting; like an alleyway on wheels, he thought. White paper cups rolled beneath the dingy chairs. And graffiti covered every inch of the scratched and scarred plastic seats.

The handicapped stickers were ripped off, and replaced with the words: DROP THE FUCK DEAD! I'M THE BEST! SUBTLETY RULES! And this: LONG LIVE THE MOTHERFUCKING QUEEN! in bold, black ink. The dark tiled floors beneath the seat were so scraped and dusty, they were faded to a gritty white in places.

The metal walls were covered in magic marker. Blue, green and red writing, was also scribbled in crooked letters. But, the color used to draw the huge Mandingo-sized penises that were sticking from cartoon lips, was a solid black.

One drawing depicted a skinny woman with impossibly gigantic Oprah tits with thick nipples. There seemed to be electricity, or lightning, coming from her stick figure hands.

And the words, Dark Realm, were slashed right beneath it. Had he noticed all of this before? Vince didn't think so, but he was distracted by the phone call. Not to mention the heat, and the stinking subway platform.

Vince could see where someone, a transit worker most likely, had tried to erase the words and drawings. But, they hadn't rubbed off.

People were sitting in every other seat, either not noticing the curses and crude pictures, or simply not caring. Gazing around the car in wonder, Vince finally noticed the woman sitting with a young girl in the double seats facing him. She was staring right at him.

The little girl was wearing a pink Dora The Explorer shirt, and was glancing down at the video game in her hands. Long dark hair covered her face and Vince was startled when she suddenly glanced up at him, smiling.

He smiled back and waved a little, then turned back to his window. With a small sigh, he watched as more of the white wall raced past, the train shaking and rattling like a trolley car. Vincent stared at the pale blur of the wall speeding past, thinking of the disgusting subway car and of how fucking weird it was that he hadn't seen any of this before, and wondered if the train would...

The entire white wall disappeared!

It was replaced by solid darkness and Vince could no longer see beyond his window!

He jerked back in his seat, the train clanging and banging all around him, then he quickly stood up and glanced up the aisle. The other passengers were just sitting there, doing nothing.

Some of them were in window seats, staring out into the utter darkness. The little girl was still playing her game. But, her attractive mother appeared to be sleeping, now.

Her bare shoulders were rising and falling!

What? Vince thought. She had just been sitting there and smiling at him suggestively!

He had even imagined her sucking his dick for a moment. But now, she was knocked out with her head leaning back against the fucking seat? As if she had been sleeping for days.

"What the fuck happened?" he whispered.

A man sitting across the aisle from them was reading a newspaper. His face was hidden but Vince could see his pale knuckles and the words DAILY NEWS printed on the cover page.

The first headline read: TRAGIC SUBWAY CRASH: BOY AND GIRL FOUND DECAPITATED!

He couldn't see the man holding the newspaper, but knew he was reading it. He thought he heard a weird giggle come from that direction. A deep, throaty chuckle that tickled his spine.

As if to prove his assumption, the man snapped one edge of the paper and Vince flinched. It was a crisp sound, and reminded him of his mother reading at the breakfast table. Vince glanced around the car, suddenly wondering what subway the headline meant.

The dirty car was utterly quiet, besides the normal sounds he associated with a moving train. He walked to the pole in the center of the floor, glancing warily at the man with the paper.

He could see a gold wedding band on his left hand, but the paper didn't move. And if Vince really did hear him laughing, he didn't do it again.

Leaning over in front of an empty seat, breathing heavily, Vince peered out into the tunnel. The train was screaming down the tracks now, the windows vibrating madly. He heard shrill noises, and somewhere in the vast maze of winding passages, a high-pitched squeal like a tea kettle boiling on a stove.

The train's fluorescents no longer penetrated the darkness outside. Vince looked around, and saw the exact same thing. On all sides was blackness, the white tiled wall no longer existed.

The light bulbs attached to those walls, no longer existed. Vince didn't share David's claustrophobia, but didn't like the idea of traveling in the dark so far beneath the streets, either.

He looked over his shoulder, peering through the small door separating the cars. He could see people in there, rocking side to side as the train hurtled through space. A few were standing up. But they too, were acting normally.

Maybe, he was the only one over reacting and there was no need to worry? Maybe, the white wall would return, and they were merely traveling down a section of tunnel he had never noticed before?

Vince suddenly wanted to see what the train's spotlight was doing to the darkness. He also wanted to see the conductor. To ask him what the fuck was going on! Even though David's phobia over closed spaces really annoyed him at times, and made him feel almost embarrassed to be with him when the attacks came, sometimes Vince wondered why he himself, was continuing to travel by subway.

He knew the shits could even break down due to flooded tracks or excessive snowfall.

During a blizzard the previous year, some people got stuck in a subway train for over seven hours!

Not exactly a pleasant memory, considering the situation.

Vince raced back to his seat and picked up his backpack, and the plastic bag containing the squirrel traps. He worked quickly, his hands shaking badly. For some reason, he suddenly felt like hurrying.

Is it the terrible headline on the newspaper? he wondered. Whatever it was, Vince suddenly wanted to leave the too-small car. He wanted to get up front where he could gaze into the tunnel.

Hopefully, the brightly lit tunnel. And with any luck, he would be able to see the fucking tracks and forget about the solid blackness surrounding him.

If it really was a new area, it might even be gone by the time he reached the front. Vince stood up, adjusting the pack on one shoulder, as the door behind him suddenly banged wide open!

He heard the low, throaty growling sounds, even before he turned to stare at the monstrous creature that many terrified beings across hundreds of dimensions, respectfully called: Benn Bratt.

15.

Sand Demons

David was only a dozen yards away now. He could see the dark shapes headed in his direction; they were closing in on him with alarming speed as he slid towards the middle of the valley.

His long sleeved shirt was torn, and ruffling back against him in the wind. Pale sand hissed beneath him, sharp grains and pebbles stung his hands as he tried to control his frantic descent.

A strange humming noise was loud in the air, like remote control planes whining across the sky.

And then, without warning, they were somehow suddenly right on top of him! David tried to deny his own eyes, really wanted to, but simply couldn't do it. His thumping heart wouldn't let him.

He could see they came in different sizes, the largest bigger than a full grown owl, and they had twisted monkey faces. One shrieked at him, emitting a rancid green gas he hoped wasn't poison, and he immediately saw the tubes the gas had come from. Jutting from an area just below the monkey's misshapen jaws.

David was choking and sputtering from the noxious cloud, as more bugs swerved near with long narrow strips of red flesh hanging from their tubes.

The flesh was darting in and out, as if trying to taste him. Slimy threads of saliva blew from the hollow tips, billowing in the wind, as scores of angrily buzzing wings pushed foul air at his face.

He was sliding much faster now, a cold air rushing up to greet him. And when he glanced to the right, another horrid bug-thing was there!

It was covered in a shiny black shell. The wings were wide and iridescent, nearly invisible, but for a rainbow of color where sunlight struck them.

The chest area was a loathsome mottled brown, like it belonged on a giant cockroach. It had ten many-jointed legs, five on each side, that were hairy with weird hooking claws at the tips.

Grasping black fingers replaced insect appendages at those tips, and the huge round eyes bulging from its monkey face, were a milky shade of blue. A black dot rolled around crazily on the surface of its eyeballs like the pupils on a giant praying mantis.

Green antennae sprouted from the middle of its deformed monkey's head. Each of them at least six inches long, and swinging wildly as the bug moved in again. Somehow, it stayed with him as he rushed down the slope. Veering far off to the right for a moment, only to swoop in again. And then, David heard a sudden roaring sound that immediately eclipsed all other sounds.

He glanced down at the monster, dismissing the flying bugs. Sand was splashing up into his face but he couldn't lift his hands to block it. He squinted, and stared at the nightmare below him, trying to forget he was actually headed right for it!

Suddenly, the sand shifted beneath him. It felt like something actually pushed him down the dune, and David slid even faster, angling towards Sonia and shouting: "Sonia! Up here! Look up, Little Sonia!"

The girl peered up from beneath her arms and screamed: "David!" the second she noticed him.

The boy heard her call him, and could see she was nearly down to the end of the root, and in a few more seconds it would really be over. She would simply drop from the vine and plummet down to the nightmare creature waiting below.

There was a sudden movement on the right side of his face and David glanced that way. He ducked just as one of the bugs (maybe, the same one) immediately dipped in and he felt a sudden sharp stinging pain in his right shoulder!

It felt like something, perhaps a flying knife, had just sliced into his flesh to the hilt.

David reached for the pain instinctively, touching one of the plastic tubes dangling from the bug's mouth by mistake. And before he could stop himself, he grabbed it, curling it in his fist, and a dark disgust swept through him. Making him shiver even as he slid because it wasn't plastic he was holding.

This felt like the slimy intestines of some large mammal. Slippery, wet, and extremely hot.

David released it and kicked out, spinning his body around as he swept down the hill on his back. Now he was sliding backwards, his arms pin-wheeling in the sand beneath him, making crooked sand angels as he went. And his blinking eyes were now looking up into the suns overhead, whether he had wanted them to or not....

The four bright suns.

My fucking eyes! he thought.

And for a moment before the pain, a brief heartbeat in time that seemed as long as ten eternities, Lorna London's face was there!

Up in the sepia-toned heavens, seeming to drift among the red and purple clouds like a golden black idol. Those fantastic eyes were shining down upon him, the halo of light around her magnificent face was like the answer to all his worries and inner pain...She was the Black Honey that every man needed to excel.

But, David had forgotten about the quarter in his extreme terror (he had forgotten its strange healing properties), and the burning sensation was simply astounding.

"OH SHIT!" he screamed. "OH FUCKING SHIT!"

It felt like someone had poured sizzling hot oil into his eyes, and he was prying his eyelids open with his own fingers as they did it, then massaging it in.

David yelped as his body bounced over outcroppings of dirt, scraping what felt like a yard of skin from his back. And much too late, he finally tried to shade his face from the dangerous sunrays, but it was way past that.

Because now, David could feel the heat burning his eyes through his eyelids. And he could actually smell them burning! The pain was beyond all previous pain.

Beyond even the searing heat he felt after burning his hand on the hot-stove one drunken night. He woke up badly needing to urinate, his eyes had been closed, and when he grabbed the glowing hot coils by mistake, thinking it had been his damn slippers, the immediate burning in his fingers had made him scream as loud as he had ever screamed.

This pain was ten times worse, because it was in his fucking eyes! The pungent odor reminded him of burnt pork, and he knew without question that he had been irrevocably blinded. And as if he wasn't already suffering enough, his body was suddenly knocked sideway as something large slammed into him again, and he felt another violent sting!

But, this time in his neck.

There was a hot dagger of heat and he yelled, slapping wildly, blindly, at the spot. Bad move, because he inadvertently slapped himself in the face and screamed until he thought his lungs would explode.

David began to lose consciousness, but somehow continued to scream. Somehow his mouth was operating without his brain and soon, his yells were mixing with Little Sonia's screams and the savage growls of the creature that was right on top of him now as he came down the last of the hill. And then, Sonia's shrill voice was above him, and quickly moving away as he slid right past her and the snarling nightmare.

Right through its dinosaur legs, though David didn't know that. And when some of its drool fell and splashed his face, burning there like acid, David screamed even louder, and went straight down towards the gaping hole in the ground. The very same hole that the horrid creature had crawled from like a sloth from the depths of hell.

16.

Little Sonia's Close Call

"David!" Sonia yelled up the sandbank. She knew there was no strength left in her arms. Her panic had overcome her long ago, and only some inner reserve of energy kept her fingers clamped around the root. She didn't understand the source of this strength, and was slightly frightened by it. But she held on, anyway.

When the land had first split apart, earthquake was the first thing that had flashed through her startled mind. Except, she knew that this wasn't actually earth. Her very next thought was that they were about to die no matter what had caused it, or where they were.

She didn't remember flying through the air, only landing in the sand and rolling downhill. It wasn't there a moment ago, that hill; what had once been a flat field of vegetation like spinach, except it was a color a child might use if asked to draw it, was now a deep crevice the size of a moon crater!

Sonia recalled shouting David's name more than once, but hadn't heard him respond. She recalled glancing around frantically as she slid, and could barely see the other side of the fissure.

There had been a sound like stone striking metal after the ground first exploded; and it had felt like something was up under the vegetation and was moving around, possibly digging.

Whatever it was, it had clearly made the sand slide faster.

She could suddenly see a large opening far below her. And what she saw next had literally taken her breath away. Huge slanted eyes were staring up at her from the opening, seeming to mark her!

She had screamed into the wind, immediately thinking of Jabba the Hut in Return Of The Jedi. Insane or not, earth or not, it was clearly the eyes of an alien creature she was speeding towards!

And then, Sonia saw something else as she fell, a thick object poking up from the dune! There was no time to tell what it was. Or care. It was rushing up to her, and she had reached out blindly in a desperate attempt at grabbing it.

She just managed to reach it before the sand swept her further down the hill, and she immediately wrapped her arms around it. A fine dust of white grit slipped down her throat as she held on for dear life. Coughing and spitting, Sonia had wrapped her arms around the smooth object even tighter.

She was panting heavily like her lungs were clogged. She planted both feet into the sand, like a mountain climber, sinking in up to her shins, and tried to stand up. But she couldn't do it.

What she was clinging to was as thick as a log and tapered off to a slender vine. She knew before she noticed its pale green color, that she was grabbing some kind of root. She was sneezing out grit, wondering what it might be attached to, when she finally heard her name being called. It was a faint, but hysterical sound: "Sonia!" that made her glance up.

A cloud of dust trailed a path down the hill, reminding her of Olympic skiers racing down a mountain. Then she saw him, he wasn't tumbling as she had, but was sliding down the slope on his ass the whole way. It was David!

Sonia easily made out his progress in the sunlight. His dust trail suddenly made her envision Roadrunner speeding across the desert at high noon with Wild E. Coyote hot on his trail, riding some zany new invention. She heard noises behind her, sounds like she'd heard at the top of the slope. Loud scraping and digging sounds.

But she didn't turn to look, she couldn't stop watching David. He was still coming down fast, seeming to shift his direction and veer towards her. The ground far beneath her was erupting like a volcano and she heard thick ripping sounds down there that rattled her teeth.

"David!" she yelled. "DAVID!"

He didn't answer, and he might have been pointing at her, but she wasn't sure. And then, a howling sound split the air, raising the fine hairs on her bare arms, and she almost died right there.

Had she unthinkingly clapped her hands over her ears in that first instant of shock, she would have fallen over fifty feet towards that horrible howling noise.

Instead, she clutched the root tighter and turned to see where the wail had come from.

She finally saw it and almost blacked out.

Sonia nearly let go of the root and plunged down to the ridiculous creature standing on the bottom of the dune, anyway. Had she fallen, she knew in her heart she would have died of fright long before her body ever slid to a stop between its talons or claws, or whatever the fuck they were.

Sonia only knew that they were incredibly long, curved, and looked deadly. They would have no trouble at all hooking her limp body like so much meat and...She shook the image from her mind and tried to think. She gripped the root and stared down, the previous hole was now a dark, gaping wound in the dirt.

She gasped as the creature promptly hopped out of it and landed on its back feet, violently shaking the ground!

When it took one lunging step forward, its front claws were groping at the air in her direction.

As if beckoning to her. Come here little chocolate girl, let's see if you taste as good as you look!

It made deep rumbling sounds that reminded her of laughter, and when she finally noticed the eyes covering its body, rolling around wildly in its glossy fur, the high-pitched shriek rushed from her lungs before she could think to stop it.

It resembled a rat in the face but had the lower body of a lizard. Except, it didn't have a tail, and Sonia had never seen a tail-less lizard before. And certainly, not one that was covered in brown fur! The abdomen had white scales, and a thousand eyes were peering from the golden brown pelt. All over the parts of its body that didn't have those shiny, white scales. All of them the same ugly yellow, and they were now winking at her.

Sonia could see something else moving, and as she watched, dark things suddenly crawled from beneath the monster's fur and she immediately thought of ticks infesting a dog. But if these were ticks, they were the biggest, fastest, ticks she had ever seen!

They wiggled through the hair like maggots on a dead cat. And when they started leaping from the lizard thing, like paratroopers invading a military target, Sonia felt a deep mind-numbing revulsion that threatened to loosen her grip.

David was sliding down to her, coming on hard, and she could now see a horrific thing. Yes! She could now see that the fucking sand was actually alive!

Sand hands had reached from the dune, and swatted at the strange black bugs that were attacking David! And David wasn't sliding so much as being dragged.

Sonia had to try and save him, she had to tell him not to struggle and let the sand guide him. Because it wasn't trying to hurt him.

She turned back to view the thing with the rodent's head just as it started up the sand, coming for her!

When she shrieked, the creature wailed again and Sonia finally panicked, losing count of her screams.

It was really coming now, starting to scramble up the sand like a crab with hooked claws instead of pinchers. She scrambled in the dir t herself, but her legs were stuck tight and barely moved.

"Sonia!" David yelled. "I'm coming, don't let go!"

Despite her sheer terror, she managed to look around and saw the flying ticks attack him again as he sped downhill! She saw David reach out and grab one and kick at it. But it moved away from him easily, and he'd lost his balance and was now sliding down the sand on his back!

He was upside down, the top of his head facing her. And a second before she whispered: "Cover your fucking eyes David!" Sonia heard him shouting in pain, yelling, "Oh shit! Oh fucking shit!" and next he was speeding right past her towards the bottom of the hill, screaming like a burn victim the entire way.

She didn't know what happened to the sand hands she saw earlier, or why they weren't trying to swat the bugs this time, but her own hands finally released the root, and she didn't blame herself at all. She had tried to live. Even when the last drop of her determination had drained away, she had tried to survive.

Her body hit the dune like a bag of wet flour, and she continued her death ride to the bottom of the crater.

The creature was waiting for her, its mouth was wide open down on the sand like a tunnel filled with sharp teeth. The eyes were spinning madly just beneath the fur as something slimy and black dripped from the upper row of fangs.

Sonia closed her crying eyes, and felt her body, as if in a dream, slipping down the slope towards the huge living cave, and the end of her life.

17.

The Mighty Soldier

Something lifted Sonia from the sand!

She thought the rat thing had captured her. But, when she didn't feel the expected pain, she opened her eyes and only saw darkness. Something was covering her head and she just knew the thing had swallowed her whole!

When the darkness slid apart, she didn't know what to think. She could see the ground below, and David was down there right beneath the monster (which didn't make sense because it was eating her!), but she saw him down on the sand sluggishly moving around.

And she clearly saw when the ugly creature suddenly drew back its ugly head above his crawling form. It only paused a second before it lunged its entire body forward. But then, something truly weird had happened...

Sonia had tensed for the creature's attack. She saw it dart forward with its jaws wide, but a figure dressed in black suddenly leapt from nowhere!

It was wearing a black helmet, and wielding a huge sword that repelled the creature's snapping jaws just before it scooped David up.

Some kind of soldier, in a form fitting military garment! she thought, breathing hard.

Sunlight twinkled off the flashing blade as the creature moved around on its powerful lizard legs, circling the figure—stalking him, Sonia thought and couldn't hear the ground shaking, but could imagine it was. And when she saw the tail suddenly sprout from the monster's fur, she groaned.

It was a dinosaur's tail, she saw, with a spike at the tip! The tail stopped growing at the length of a city bus. It was a scaly green, black-striped tail, that the creature flicked and curled like a snake. Then suddenly whip-lashed out at the uniformed soldier.

No! she screamed in her mind. Watch out!

But he was as fast as greased lightning, and Sonia was stunned at how quickly he ducked the blow, and then moved in, running up the alien's tail, and across its hairy back. He was stepping into blinking eyes, puncturing them as he ran, and finally leapt onto its massive head!

Now he was slashing at the creature's face from above. First on one side, then the other; nearly too fast for her disbelieving eyes to follow. The thing thrashed terribly, dark liquid pouring from the deep, glistening cuts in its fur.

The warrior managed to pop one of the huge yellow eyes, one of its main eyes, thrusting the blade into the shining hilt, and the alien lizard went wild!

It hopped and bucked, trying to get rid of its unwanted passenger. But, the soldier (he's like fucking Spiderman! Sonia thought) remained on its monstrous head somehow!

The flying ticks converged on him, as if assisting the rodent thing, but his sword became a propeller of pink light. A whirling weapon of destruction, that smacked them from the air like black bowling pins.

They collided with one another and seemed to detonate even as the rat creature opened its jaws to roar. It crouched low to the sand, leaning back on the coil of its tail, and was suddenly propelled into the sky! Further than Sonia would have thought possible.

It spun in the air, golden fur flying, its talons grasping at empty space for a moment. Then the massive beast twisted its torso and came hurtling down towards David's prone body.

So, it hadn't forgotten about him!

But, the soldier was already standing over David. Sonia was amazed, and thought: How could he move that fucking fast? It's impossible! Nothing can move that fucking fast!

She had just seen him clinging to the monster's golden pelt as it bent its head and leapt to the four suns!

She didn't see him fall or jump off, but he was now holding up the sword with both hands, crouched on one knee in the sand right next to David, and he was staring upward, the sword glowing a bright blue color—like electricity, she thought. And when the creature landed, its outstretched talons fell directly on that gleaming, upturned blade!

The sound of its agony suddenly filled the sky, and simultaneously filled up whatever was on Sonia's head as well. It was the first fucking thing she actually heard.

Then, the rat beast suddenly flew backwards! As if propelled by some incredibly powerful force. The blade had gone straight through and was still sticking from its bottom claw. It landed on its back with a tremendous thud, howling. (She actually heard these sounds, too.) It reached over, still howling, curving its back, trying to grab the blade embedded in its wiggling foot.

But, before its head could stretch far enough to reach it, the soldier was jumping on its stomach, and hacking away at it like a ferocious madman with another sword! It was a stunning display. Sonia didn't want to see the army or whatever it was called, that this particular soldier belonged to!

Chunks of scale and flesh flew in every direction. More of the dark liquid gushed onto the sand from the creature's hide, staining it black. Sonia guessed it was blood, but the rat thing apparently wasn't done yet, blood or no. Far from it. The furry neck darted forward again, this time just snatching the soldier by the leg, and tossing him high in the air!

The neck flicked out further, and snapped at him as he rose to the sky, but missed. The man did somersaults in place and came back down, blade first. There was a flash of blinding light as the soldier accelerated in mid-air, and was suddenly set ablaze!

He slammed into the creature's white-scaled chest like a missile; a ragged hole forming and a river of dark liquid pouring out. Long white things squirmed in the black goop; the black flying ticks started attacking the white things, snatching them up from the sand like minnows from a lake.

There was a tremendous flash of brilliance, and the soldier suddenly burst forth from the sand a few yards away, landing in a crouch. He'd gone straight through the giant rat's entire body, into the ground, and had come out with the sword spinning in one hand. As if the whirling blade had somehow created a tunnel beneath the sand, which Sonia knew was impossible!

Then, she saw him rush over faster than fast, seeming to glide across the dazzling white sand, and yank the sword from the creature's foot. He twisted it like a lumberjack removing his axe from the moist wood of a tree. The thing seemed to shudder, roared one last time, raising its horrid rat/gopher's head to the sky, the stupendously large teeth flashing in the sunlight, and simply collapsed.

The soldier was watching it. He raised the dark visor on the helmet, turned his head, and looked up. Looked right at her! And Sonia thought she saw the white flash of a big smile, which couldn't be, for who would smile after all of that violence? But, Sonia fainted just before she could see that the soldier's dark face actually belonged to a grinning, black haired, woman.

18.

Benn Bratt Loves The Kids

Vince first heard the fierce growling sounds, and then the high-pitched screaming. But, when the door in- between the subway cars slammed open, he automatically jerked his head in that direction. And when the lights suddenly winked out, he screamed himself.

He expected to see a dog when they blinked back on, but what he saw definitely wasn't a dog. And it was bigger than a fucking Saint Bernard, had it been a dog.

If a Saint Bernard could walk on its hind legs of course, and had a fashion sense that included wearing spandex shorts and brown construction boots!

The boy didn't notice the bag slide from his own grasp. He didn't hear the loud clinking noise the traps made as they tumbled to the dirty floor. The little girl's shrieks filled the compartment, blocking out those low level sounds. Had he not been carrying the backpack on his shoulder, he would have dropped that, as well.

His breathing had stopped, literally stopped. And for a second, it was as if he had forgotten how to breathe. His mouth hung open like a broken hinge.

Filling the doorway separating the train cars, was a creature he could only describe as a rat. (The image of a frowning Mr. Ratburn from the Arthur cartoons actually occurred to him.) And if called upon to explain how a rat could be standing on its hind legs, Vince would have drawn a blank. If further questioned about the immense size of the rat, and its furry bodybuilder's physique (or the fact that it was wearing a black spandex top and black shorts), Vince would have pleaded the fifth.

He saw something even stranger, that it wore a white towel around its muscular, hairy neck, and it seemed to be dripping wet with some glowing fluid.

"Glowing?" he whispered.

Yes. He could see the liquid forming a puddle on the filthy tile beneath the creature, a glowing puddle, and the shit seemed to be falling in slow motion!

Vince glanced behind the rat man. The fluorescents above him were flickering weakly, but the light from the next car formed a halo around its rat man shape. He didn't look for long, really didn't feel like it, but everything seemed red and wet in the compartment.

As if someone had just painted the car in blood. Blood? And a nanosecond before he remembered all the people he had noticed earlier, Vince's staring, confused eyes, finally found the dead bodies.

Dozens of dead bodies. Many lying on the plastic seats, arms and legs twisted together like knots of rope. Heads were missing on some of the shredded torsos. One woman's severed head rolled back and forth on a shiny plastic seat, her pallid face frozen in a chilling scream.

He saw a bizarre thing. A swarm of horseflies buzzed around the bloody body parts, and he thought: Horseflies? Where the fuck did they come from so fast?

Blood was everywhere, even dripping down the metal pole in the center of the aisle. His mind unexpectedly flashed the words: RAT KING! over and over. And then, he saw the rat man's eyes begin to glow, themselves!

The eyes were the sinister bright red of burning coals, and Vince's untimely paralysis finally broke. The little Hispanic girl was still shrieking as he turned and fled up the aisle towards the next emergency exit, kicking the plastic bag as he ran. He heard a loud rattle this time, and skidded to a stop. The fucking traps!

He turned and looked at the thing still standing at the door. It was staring at him, slightly crouched over, and breathing hard; its eyes were shining like reflectors on the highway at dusk. Its hairy arms dangled far past its shaggy knees. Vince couldn't help glancing at its feet.

The thing was wearing boots, but the ugly toes had punched through the material! The digits were long, with black claws at the ends. And when the hairy toes wiggled and waggled, Vince looked up. The girl had since stopped yelling, and was now coughing loudly.

The rat thing growled laughter at him. "Traps?" it grunted. "Go get 'em. I dare you. What traps for? Huh, boy? What traps for?" It howled and slobbered madly. "Your soul will be trapped in me, motherfucker!" it said.

Vince heard this clearly even though the open door was letting in a tornado of subway noises. He was glancing down the aisle behind him when the train suddenly swerved as it went into a sharp turn and the creature stumbled to the left!

The metal door rattled closed behind it and the latch clicked, making the creature turn around. As if on cue, Vince lunged forward and snagged the end of the plastic bag! Then he was running up the aisle again, his heart hammering in his chest. He heard a loud scream of rage behind him.

"Come back!" the rat thing roared. "I got your motherfucking traps nigger!"

Vince saw that the car was totally empty except for three people, but he couldn't dwell on it. He sped by the mother and daughter; the little girl cringing away from him, looking at him sideways as if he might attack her himself.

A sheaf of glossy black hair hid half her haggard, tear-streaked face.

He ran past the frightened little girl, and when the man with the newspaper finally lowered it to see what was going on, Vince snatched it and kept on running up the aisle.

"Hey!" the man shouted. "Where you going with my fucking paper?"

He didn't catch the man's look of surprise as he ran. But, heard him yelling and cursing, "Hey you!" the man screamed as he fled. "What the fuck are you doing!"

Vince reached the little doorway, and slowed up. It was awkward running with the pack on his shoulder, the bag of traps clunking against his legs felt like knives poking his skin. He turned and glanced back at the far end of the car.

The rat thing had gotten bigger. Unless he was just hallucinating, the rat man had tripled in size! Its previous muscles had been impressive, but now, it looked like a fucking Dragon Ball Z character!

It seemed to have muscles on top of muscles. He could see it had a tail, long and thick, and it was covered in mangy brown fur.

The tail was slithering around in the air like the tentacles of an octopus. Curling down to its tip, and floating as the rat man walked over to the little girl and violently grabbed her by the arm! She was staring up at him, all big-eyed, trying frantically to pull away.

"Mira!" the woman was shouting. "Mira! No! MIRA!"

"Hey! Rat hunter!" the creature bellowed. And he realized it was Michael Duncan's voice! Vince had thought so from the minute the thing first spoke, but figured the idea was nuts, so he dismissed what he was sure he'd heard.

But, it was him, the way he had talked in Planet Of The Apes!

"Here's what we do to your kind!" the creature screamed. "The kind that don't know their fucking place! I told your boy Lorna London was too good for him. But, he just had to go and fuck with us, didn't he!"

The rat man bit into the little girl's forearm and crunched down! Vince heard its teeth clack together.

Just like a hungry man biting into a huge turkey drumstick, it had just bitten through the girl's arm, splattering blood all over the front of her pink Dora shirt, and was now laughing down at her.

Laughing at her and chewing.

The flowing blood looked like ketchup in the shadowed light of the subway car. Her screams were so loud and clear, Vince wanted to cover his ears. But, he didn't.

The rat man held up the severed white arm and shook it. The girl's hand flopped back and forth like a dead fish. "Look!" he growled. "Look motherfucker! Do you see I mean business, nigger?"

The little girl's mother was crying hysterically, and was rambling on in a Spanish so choked with tears, it seemed like language from another planet, to Vince.

He glanced down at the screaming little girl. The one that made him think of the little white girl in the Willy Wonka movie; the one that continually chewed her gum, her beautiful blue eyes so wide and clear. Her cute, pouting red mouth looking so grown (and yes, goddamn it, so sexy! though he would never share that with anyone), until she had eventually turned into a giant blueberry and rolled away.

But, this child on the train had passed out from her total shock, and Vince was breathing heavily as he watched the Hispanic woman cradling her small body. He had never felt more lost in his entire life.

19.

Hallucinations

The giant woman came to her three times before she fully woke. It must have been some time after she saw the battle between the black clad warrior and the alien creature that Little Sonia figured she was brought to this room.

The woman came in after some time had passed. Twice to give her some strange smelling liquid to drink (though she hadn't actually given it to her), and the third time to feed her.

She thought she was dreaming the size of the woman, no woman could be her size, but the plate of food she had handed her was very real. And had smelled delicious.

So Sonia ignored what she saw, and instead studied the food. Tendrils of steam rose from the gleaming silver bowl in savory clouds, and her mouth had watered immediately. It seemed to be some kind of stew, with chunks of brown meat floating in a thick broth. Her stomach had growled and she had smacked her lips greedily. The food was gone in three minutes.

That had happened perhaps an hour ago, though Sonia couldn't be sure of the time-frame. She was now lying on some kind of couch in a room with candles in ornate candle holders attached to the walls. The walls were covered in velvet drapes, if the material was actually velvet, that were the color of plums.

The candleholders protruded from neatly cut holes in the drapes, and the soft amber light made her feel drowsy. Sonia wondered if the liquid the young girl just about forced on her (with the woman standing in the background, smiling softly), also had something to do with the strange, almost peaceful feeling.

The girl had been a more normal height (which was the only thing Little Sonia had found normal about her) and after placing the golden cup down on a small cabinet, she bowed and quickly scurried from the room.

A huge room, with large, colorful throw pillows covering the floor. They were five or six deep, a sea of pillows, and each one seemed to be completely different from the next. Some had emblems stitched into the material, but Little Sonia had never seen them before.

What might have been pyramids, crosses, stars and suns, adorned the pillows she could see. The images seemed to shift as she watched, morphing into weird combinations of the four.

The symbols could have been letters, or even numbers, for all she knew. And she wondered if that too, seeing the symbols shift and change, was caused by the strange liquid.

A light scent was on the cool air, similar to the aroma of lemon and lilac she had noticed outside. Like VO5's blackberry shampoo. And then, she'd thought: Outside. And wondered where she was, and more importantly, where David was.

It truly pained her heart to think about it, but she simply couldn't forget the way he'd screamed back on that dune. The sunlight had burned his eyes!

The creature hadn't killed him, but he was surely blind. Even though her own eyes weren't affected by the sunlight at all! And when she thought of how David rescued her back on the train, she sniffed at the leaking sensation in her nose, hoping she would get to see him soon.

Sonia wanted to speak to him, needed to speak to him. She wanted to see how he was holding up after what had happened, and see if he was even aware of what had happened to him. Amnesia had crossed her mind.

But, Sonia knew she owed the boy her life, plus she really liked him. He was handsome, but it was rare that she'd come across a boy that she actually liked beyond a physical attraction.

When the woman came again Sonia would talk to her about David. The last three times she had hushed her softly when Sonia tried to speak.

"Not now dear," she said. "Lay back. You've had quite an ordeal, and your inner workings need to rest."

The girl took that to mean she should get some sleep. But, Sonia didn't want to sleep, whether she needed it or not! How could she sleep when David could be lying somewhere, sightless? Sonia couldn't, so she tossed and turned and had many sleepless hours before she saw the boy again.

20.

Evian

Little Sonia needn't have worried about David, he was doing just fine. He sat in a massive golden-hued chair that may as well have been a throne and he was staring into a large gilded mirror. The mirror was made of a metal that was solid and amazingly heavy. Both the chair and the mirror resembled actual gold, and he couldn't begin to calculate the value if they really were.

A pale skinned woman stood by his side, smiling benignly up at him. She was extremely short and thin, probably no more than four-feet tall, he guessed. She had somewhat Asian features, but David doubted she would know the term if he mentioned it to her.

Wherever they were, he didn't think they labeled their people by race, as humans did. He didn't know why he felt that way (there was nothing to suggest he was right), he just did.

Her name was Evian, pronounced Ay-Vee-on and they did have ages, however. And she gave hers as twenty and four which he took to mean twenty-four. Her slanted eyes were a clear hazel and David knew he'd seen the color before (perhaps on some actress or model, he thought) but it certainly wasn't the color of Lorna London's eyes. Hers were the color of almonds.

"How did they do this?" David asked the woman. He touched the area around his own eyes gingerly because he couldn't forget the earlier pain. But the pain no longer exists! he thought, grinning.

He gazed at his reflection in the mirror and the smile playing about his brown, naturally swollen lips. His small nose had light colored particles of something on it, he touched it and felt grit. He rubbed it gently between his first two fingers.

It was sand from out in the desert, he realized, and David glanced away, envisioning the monster that nearly did unspeakable shit to him, the horrendous thing that was covered in eyes.

A deep shiver coursed through his body. He turned back to the mirror and studied his own angular face, thoughtfully. Then, David carefully touched his face again. He smiled and saw even, white teeth. He ran the tip of his tongue across them, feeling their hard smoothness. (Were they whiter? he wondered.)

But nothing appeared to be wrong with his eyes, he felt nothing at all as he watched his hand move cautiously over the lines of his jaw and cheekbones. He hadn't doubted for a second that his eyes were ruined beyond repair.

"Damn!" he whispered. "Un-fucking-believable, I feel so fucking stupid!"

The woman giggled, a deep but pleasant sound. "Don't," she said. "Our scientists are used to such injuries. I am pleased that you are amazed, but it's a routine procedure to us. It rarely excites me."

David loved the sound of her voice. It could have easily belonged to a black or white girl from his world, he thought, and he visualized the dark haired woman from Small Ville, Kristen Kruek, who played Lana Lang on the show. Like Evian's, Lana's voice was husky, and extremely sexy. Evian's long, dark hair, which was swept back into a tight ponytail, also reminded him of Kristen Kruek.

David liked long hair, short too, but if the girl beneath the hair was stupid, had an annoying voice, and turned his stomach by simply opening her annoying fucking mouth, David would pass.

No matter how good the particular bitch looked.

Evian gently took the mirror from his hand, and placed it atop a small black cabinet. It was one of the few pieces of furniture in the room.

"I'm not hungry," David said. "Strange. How long have I been here, again?"

The woman glanced at him. "Two days," she said. "After Kia Plazine saved you from the Sandsucker, Yarakki and Oprafine, fed you with their nourishment machines. I don't know what to call them...the machines, I mean."

David nodded, to show he understood.

Evian's flimsy green gown flowed from her slim shoulders as she walked through the chamber arranging things. A rug was pulled straight though David hadn't noticed any wrinkles in it. A straight-backed chair was lifted from one spot and moved to another. David thought the woman seemed nervous but had nothing to base his belief on. Perhaps, it was the invisible dress she wore that was making her feel anxious?

It covered her entire figure, but he didn't see the point of her wearing it. Not only was it completely see-through, but when she walked back and forth across the black marble floor, David could clearly see her nude reflection in the surface. And he quickly looked away because except for her enormous chest, poking ass, and deep voice, she seemed no older than ten.

"Now," Evian said clapping her hands lightly. "We have to get you ready to speak with the queen. No offense, but you could use a shower. For the dirt and grime, I mean. Not that you stink or anything."

She grinned slightly and David was mildly shocked. Wherever this was, the language was basically the same as his. Or perhaps he was only hearing it that way?

But, did she say the queen?

"What queen?" David asked. "Who's queen?" Certainly not his beautiful, black queen, Lorna London! But, it was still weird hearing his affectionate term for her being used in this strange place. A place with prehistoric animals running around!

"Our queen," Evian said. "Queen Priscilla."

The playful tone in her words made David glance at her eyes. He'd learned that the truths or falsehoods in a person's words were often revealed in their eyes. But David read no deception in Evian's eyes, and allowed himself a moment to dive into them, until he heard a soft giggle.

David came out of his fantasy and looked down. Evian's tits were pale watermelons hanging from her slim frame and a thin network of green veins branched out far from her nipples.

The gown's flimsy material barely contained her breasts and did nothing to stop them from bouncing around when she moved.

"What do you call this place?" David asked, smiling and trying to distract himself. "It isn't Venus, is it?" he said.

"Realm," Evian said. "A place very close to your world. You might even say right next door." She went to a small glass table, and picked up a neat pile of clothing. The white material looked soft and comfortable, something like cotton, David thought

"These are for you," she said. "They should fit, but if not, let me know. I'm one of the best clothing replicators in the palace. It's one of the reasons Kia chose me."

"Thank you," David said, thinking: Realm? Where had he heard that name? Maybe it was a new rap group? The Dark Realm? He wasn't sure. But, the term clothing replicator answered any questions he was about to ask regarding the garments.

David noticed the thin material poking up from Evian's chest and knew those were her nipples. But kept his eyes on her face, admiring her creamy pale skin instead of the dark furry V between her thighs.

Her stomach was flat and well muscled, and he was getting a hard-on whether he liked it or not.

"You have beautiful eyes," David said. "What color are they?"

Evian smiled. "I'm not sure you would know the word," she said, "but it is called Acorn."

David grinned. "As in the kind that grow on trees?" he said.

The woman frowned. "What is trees?" she asked him.

"No," he said, laughing. "I mean from a maple tree . Don't you have trees around here?" David glanced across the room, looking for a window, but didn't see any windows at all.

"What are they for?" she asked. "Can you eat them?"

"Never mind," he said. "The acorns in my world are different colors. Brown, green, some a light beige. I guess the beige ones are what they meant."

Evian stared at him. "Who meant?" she whispered. "The trees?"

David shrugged. "Whomever created your language must have seen acorns," he said. "Or maybe some of our words slipped over here, somehow?"

"Perhaps," Evian replied. "I don't get to leave the palace much. My duties confine me to this chamber and a few other rooms on this level. I wouldn't know an acorn if I saw one. But I have heard of such things happening, since our walls are growing thin. "

"Confine you?" David said. He wasn't exactly sure what she meant by that, or by our walls are growing thin. But it certainly didn't sound too good.

Evian laughed, noticing the expression on his face. "It's not that bad," she said reassuringly, "I go out during the day, but at night we all must remain indoors. It's mostly for our own safety."

David figured it had something to do with the prehistoric wildlife so he dismissed it. The pretty young woman smiled, her clear eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

"Shall I bathe you?" she said, "or will the showers do?"

That playful tone was back. But, her face never changed. Her slanted eyes regarded him curiously though, as David tried to think of things to kill his slowly rising penis. "Where are the showers?" he asked, at last.

He placed his hands in his lap and smirked, hoping she hadn't noticed his friend waking up. "I can wash myself, thank you," he told her. "Where I'm from, only infants and small children, and sometimes the elderly, need someone to wash them."

"As you wish," Evian said, shrugging. "The shower is over there in the left corner, a small red button attached to the wall opens it. Press the glowing button and you'll see what happens."

She grinned mischievously, a much fuller smile than before. "I doubt you've ever experienced anything like this," she said. "You'll feel like staying in it, forever!"

"You're probably right," David said, seriously doubting that. "But where exactly are we, anyway?" he asked her. "I didn't get a chance to ask him during the...the operation."

David felt strange calling what the man in the laboratory did to him by that word. It had been as far from an actual operation as a procedure could get.

He could only imagine the hoopla that would occur if he could ever bring that machine into his own world, somehow.

A machine that could rejuvenate the skin and even body organs? "Get with me!" David imagined himself telling Lorna London, "and I'll keep you looking as young as you want to look, forever! Just spend time with me, just a week a year! And nobody even has to know about it!"

David gazed at Evian, who seemed perfectly content to let him do so, and recalled the contraption that had basically performed a miracle: He was fading in and out of consciousness when the helmet was placed over his head. The last thing he remembered before that happened, was rolling around in the sand while the thing with the gopher face howled above him.

The ground shook violently as it circled him, and David really thought his ticket had been punched.

One more thunderous step, and he would become a smudge of wetness on the sparkling hot sand. But, that crushing last step had never landed.

Instead, he'd heard a tremendous shout, a female voice shouting: "Stay down! Cover your head and don't move!"

David somehow knew that the voice was addressing him. But, where the hell was he going to go? His eyes had been a white net of pain inside his skull at the time. Hot fluid was dripping down his face in runlets, and he had wondered if it was blood or his eyeballs running from their sockets.

His body was scraped in a million places and there were two specific areas that really stung and throbbed with pain.

When David reached up to his right shoulder with his left hand, he immediately felt how swollen it was and screamed.

The material of his shirt had ballooned out, and was gelatinous, as if filled with water. The same thing had happened to his neck, except a large sack of liquid was right beneath his skin instead.

His lightest touch stung as if he were feeling an open wound. And then, the sack on his neck had burst beneath his probing fingers, and the fluid pouring down his skin felt like hot melted butter. The liquid ran into his other scrapes and sores, and his screams were horrible in the brilliant sunlight. They echoed through the shimmering air like screams in a dusty cave, ringing in his own ears.

Everything else was hazy until he awoke on a cold metal table. His long-sleeved shirt was gone, his arms and legs strapped down, his neck braced by some heavy white plastic. David was scared, but even through the fear, he noticed the blessed absence of pain in his arm and neck. And he was apparently staring up at a white ceiling.

Ultra-violet light shone down from small silver orbs, and a man in a white lab coat suddenly appeared over him, obliterating his view of the ceiling, his face as wide as the moon.

David didn't know how he could see the man so clearly. Especially, when he had already accepted the fact that he could no longer see, at all. But, he could see him and it was a somewhat fuzzy image, like looking through a greasy windowpane. Yet, he still made out his most noticeable features:

Short brown hair. Smooth, pale skin, that somehow still conveyed advanced age. Large eyes, with irises the golden color of grain. A color that looked very familiar to David. He wore a thoughtful, almost kind expression, that did little to allay the boy's growing trepidation.

He couldn't move, but had struggled anyway.

"Relax," the man soothed him. He placed one hand on David's chest as if to hold him down. It wasn't necessary since the straps were more than adequate.

"I'm going to place something over your face," the man told him. "A helmet, you would call it. To complete the regeneration. Your eyes are nearly intact."

Cool darkness overtook David as something covered his entire face. When he awoke, he was in this room and that had been the extent of the "operation" which really had been a miracle. There was simply no other way to put it.

But when David had finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was this woman, Evian.

And now, she was answering his earlier question: "We are on earth or one version of it," she said. And went to the small cabinet where she'd placed the fancy mirror, earlier. "It was once known as Valon," she continued. "But that was long before the Realmians invaded, back when the Sagittarius were scouring space in search of planets and dimensions to conquer." She glanced down . "Are you done with this?" she asked him, touching the mirror with one hand.

"Can I keep it?" David said. "I might want it later." He touched at his face, again. "You know, just to see it?" he said.

Evian nodded and smiled. "No problem," she said. "Keep it as long as you wish, Kia has hundreds. She won't miss one."

She looked at the mirror, thoughtfully. "My people don't use them," she said. "We all know full well how we look, and are never allowed to forget it. In fact, it is dangerous to forget it."

Before the Realmians invaded? David thought to himself. Her people? He didn't know what she meant. Assuming the Realmians were another race, she was the only other person he had seen since the old man in the lab. Who had looked similar in features to her. And, what did dangerous to forget it, mean? he wondered. That didn't sound too good.

But, there was no noticeable emotion in Evian's voice as she'd said it. Nothing David could detect, at least. Perhaps, his earlier assessment regarding race was wrong. Whomever the Realmians were, they were clearly superior beings. Or at least, thought they were.

"You said this is...?" he began.

Evian nodded. "Yes it is," she said. "Earth...a different dimension than yours, of course, but please, don't worry. Marlana Carter or Kia will explain everything to you. Maybe even Yarakki if he has the time, though I wouldn't count on it." She smiled wanly. "For now, bathe and relax," she said. "You are safe here, and you'll be able to see your companion soon." Her smile brightened. "The female that was out in the Void with you?" she said.

A surge of shock swept through him. "You're talking about Sonia?" he asked. "She's not dead?"

Evian smiled. "Why would she be dead?" she asked him. "Marlana Carter reached her in plenty of time. I think she's speaking to her right now, but it was you that we...I mean they, were truly concerned with. Kia put on quite a performance out there," she said. "Very impressive, wasn't she?"

Evian chuckled. "That Sandsucker didn't have a chance against her and Mind Splitter," she said. "See you in one hour, David."

She pointed to the stack of clothing. "Your watch is in the large pocket," she said. "And yes, it still works just fine over here. If they allow it to. See you soon."

Evian strode towards what must have been the front of the room and a star-shaped opening spun apart in a section of wall. The woman stepped through it, and into a dimly lit corridor with dull glowing spheres attached to the wall out there. The star reversed itself closed. But, before it did, David saw maybe seven people hurrying by in the hallway carrying long, slender objects. It looked like silver trays though he couldn't be sure.

It was both men and women, short and very light skinned. As light as Evian was and all of the females were dressed in a similar fashion to her. Gazing at the wall now, there was nothing David could see to hint such a doorway even existed. He thought of science-fiction programs like Deep Space Nine, and smiled.

David slowly climbed down from the chair and walked about the large, gloomy chamber. He rubbed at his right shoulder as he went, remembering the sack that had formed beneath his skin after getting stung.

His arm was fine now. He carefully felt the hard, muscled skin, and perhaps he was imagining things, but both arms seemed slightly bigger than they had before. And they definitely felt stronger, all of him did.

"What happened?" he whispered. "Am I really feeling this?" He glanced upwards.

Candles adorned the light blue walls, their flames flickering as if a breeze was blowing. If there was a breeze, David couldn't feel it. The temperature was pleasant, maybe seventy-five degrees, but he felt no wind.

And the thought suddenly smacked him hard: Sonia was alive! It came home to him unexpectedly, and he collapsed to the ground, overcome with a multitude of conflicting emotions. He barely felt the ensuing pain caused by his knees striking the floor.

"Sonia's alive!" he hissed, the words echoing loudly in the chamber. David didn't see how that was possible. Shit, he didn't even see how he was still living!

But he suddenly felt a burning desire to see her. He had an urge to hug her, and kiss her eyelids the way he did Paris sometimes when times were good.

(Something he hadn't done in over a year, David realized with bitter regret.) And then, it dawned on him where he had seen Evian's eye color before. How had he missed it?

"You're off your fucking game," he whispered to himself. "but you better get it together if you expect to survive this crazy shit!"

But, how had he missed it?

They were the same shade as Sonia's eyes, he realized with a slight jolt. Perhaps, Sonia's were a little darker, like the difference between rose and light rose, he thought. But otherwise, the same.

Just a coincidence he figured, but didn't really believe that. Part of him felt there was a connection he just didn't understand yet. David slowly got up from the floor, cursing himself for falling so dramatically, some of the aches that had disappeared, returning.

But when he looked towards the area Evian pointed out, David saw the glowing button, and slowly limped over to it, still inspecting the large cavernous room as he went.

Heavy blue drapes were open revealing a smooth lighter wall beneath. When David glanced up, the ceiling seemed a mile away and was awash with the warm light of many candles. The room resembled a royal chamber in a palace he felt, and thought, didn't Evian call this place by that very word?

Yes, she had. It was the kind of setting filmmakers used in movies about Arabian princes, camels and genie bottles. Barbara Eden should be walking around naked, he thought, and incense should be lit. He was smirking as he continued limping across the chamber.

There was already a light scent drifting about the room, David noticed and thought he might have smelled it somewhere before, but couldn't place it. (That it was actually Nubian Sunrise, the same perfume Paris constantly wore, wouldn't occur to him until much later.) He finally stopped at the wall with the button on it, raised his hand to press it, and paused.

David scanned the wall again, trying to see evidence of an opening like the one Evian had just used. But the wall was smooth and seamless as far as he could see, and if the substance covering the wall was actually paint, it was the shiniest paint he had ever seen.

His hand remained frozen in mid-air, and he resembled Hitler giving his infamous salute, though he had never heard of Hitler.

A shiver ran up his spine as David thought of the woman's cryptic words. She had all but promised him the experience of his life. But it somehow didn't sound as tempting as it should have.

David raised his hand higher to punch the button and heard an amused chuckle behind him! He uttered a thin cry, his body rigid with fright, his heart racing as his throat seized up. He couldn't breathe!

"Hopefully, your shower can wait," a silky voice said as he exhaled. "But for now, we need to talk tiny human."

David spun around and faced the woman striding towards him, wearing a leather suit and knee-high boots. The form-fitting suit was jet black with white stitching and clung to her body like hot wax.

When she moved, the suit moved and her every muscle was very clearly defined beneath the ultra-tight material.

As she neared him, a still stunned David could see every ridge of muscle in her stomach, even the indentation of her belly button. Her long legs (the understatement of the century! he thought) carried her across the marble floor in no time, and soon her high heels clacked to a stop directly in front of him.

David was used to tall girls because Paris was tall. At six foot six, she was the tallest girl he had ever been serious about by a lot. Being five-six himself, he'd felt uncomfortable about going out with her at first, especially when she wore heels. She was that much taller than him in high heels. It was like dating a WNBA star.

But, this was a different kind of tall, a different kind of height. David was trying not to swoon, or faint as he gaped up at her.

"I see you are feeling much better," the woman said. She regarded him with a smile of exceeding warmth. At least her smile was warm, he thought her eyes told a slightly different tale. "How are your injuries?" she said.

David stared up her face, utterly thunderstruck. He felt a weird sense of having seen her somewhere before but couldn't remember where. And then, it hit him and he immediately stepped backwards, his heart slamming against his ribcage again.

The female was darker than he was, a deep mahogany complexion, but still could have easily been Lorna London's twin sister!

She reminded him of how Lorna looked in the original Black Honey movie (the classic), only three shades darker and much closer to Naomi Campbell's complexion. David peered closer, staring at her eyes, totally disbelieving, because they were...

The incredible figure standing before him was taller and plain bigger than any man or woman he had ever seen. And that included athletes. Football, basketball, whatever! While not as wide in the waist, in fact her waist was incredibly slim for her size, her shoulders were easily the broadest he had ever seen on any N.F.L player.

The giant suddenly stepped even closer to David, and sniffed at the air above his head. She had to bend nearly to her knees to do it. A strong perfume hovered about her enormous body, an intoxicating aroma he associated with Sunday school and pockets full of candy.

David looked up and could see the curved bottoms of her huge breasts, the black suit covered them like wet rubber and if he leaned out and kissed her, his mouth would have touched her wide pelvis, just beneath her belly button.

Instead, he stepped backwards until he could see her face again. Before he could speak, the woman walked forward and the strange sniffing sounds came again.

David thought of Evian's words regarding his odor and wondered if she had been only joking, after all.

"Who are you?" David, asked. "And why do you keep doing that? Sniffing like that?"

He backed up again, his heart jumping, his head feeling light and airy. And his mind suddenly flashed back to the morning he had started on his journey. To him strolling down Blake Street, thinking of finding a Rat King, wondering if the clouds he'd seen hovering over the lake would actually bring rain or not. Tame concerns, he felt, considering all of this!

What had Evian said? That it was two days ago? How the fuck did he end up in this weird fucking place?

The woman standing before him was over twelve feet tall! She had to be."Turn around," she said. "I made a bet with Marlana Carter and the old lady. I want to see if my guess was correct. I'm rarely wrong."

Marlana Carter and the old lady? David thought. "What guess?" he asked, peering up at her in terror. His heartbeat wasn't slowing and his body was beginning to tremble, the insanity of what he was seeing threatened to overwhelm him. Shit, was already overwhelming him!

David tried to focus on the fact that she was smiling. Didn't that mean she was friendly?

He tried to ignore her eyes too, but couldn't do it. How could he?

She made a spinning gesture with one finger; a finger as long as his hand, he saw. And whatever she was, she kept her long, dagger-like nails, well manicured.

It suddenly dawned on him that he'd heard that name before, somewhere. The one she had just said. Marlana Carter. But, where?

"Turn around," she repeated. "I think I know why that Sandsucker attacked you, little man." She sniffed again, her face wrinkling up and she was still beautiful, David thought.

But, she was talking about the creature out on the sand; the one that nearly killed him and Sonia. A Sandsucker. The same word Evian used.

"I don't understand," David said, turning in place with his arms up, as if being frisked. He felt giant fingers grip his shoulder like an iron clamp and then, she leaned into him.

"This is light pressure," she whispered in his ear. Her breath was hot and smelled like cinnamon. "I can squeeze much harder than that," she went on, "if I choose to." She made a kissing sound, the hand moved from his shoulder and slid down his back, tickling him. On purpose, he felt.

David remained still as the hand touched the front of his jeans, squeezing him gently.

"Hey!" he said as she pushed his dick through his jeans with her fingernail. It was a sharp sensation, that ran through his entire body. She laughed, and was then digging into his back pocket.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, pulling something from his pocket. "Just as I thought little man!"

David, with one hand covering his crotch, turned around and saw what appeared to be tin-foil in her huge open palm. It looked strange to see such a common thing in this weird place, and it was as small as a Hershey's kiss in her hand.

Next to it was a clear Ziploc bag with a yellow seal. The kind that turned green to indicate it was properly closed. Why did they look familiar?

He didn't know, but he could suddenly smell an odor emanating from the foil. A fishy rank stench that reminded him of seafood. It definitely wasn't the aroma of chocolate.

And then, David remembered: The tin-foil he had wrapped the bait in! He'd forgotten about it with all that had happened. His heart danced as he tried to think.

He hadn't thought of it since...the force of the realization blew him away.

David hadn't thought about the tin-foil and the bait since speaking to Vince on the phone that morning! No, what he thought was that morning. How long ago had it really been? Two days?

Yes, Evian told him that, didn't she?

It didn't seem right somehow, and however long it had been, he had completely forgotten about Vince. Was he still waiting for him at the Cranberry Street station? David couldn't imagine that, but he had no way of finding out for sure one way or the other!

So he only stared at the crumpled foil in the giant woman's hand, his body suddenly feeling cold and hollow inside, his heart filled with a sense of despair he'd never known.

21.

Vince Traps A Rat

The little girl awoke screaming.

The rat man had bitten through her arm and raised it to Vince so he could see his handy work. Then he shook it like a wet rag; the lifeless, white hand wobbling on the tattered portion of wrist, blood gushing from the stump as if from a damaged hose.

The girl had passed out for a few minutes, but was conscious again and her mother was trying to comfort her, but it was a lost cause. Her screams of pain echoed through the car, mixed in with the woman's pitiful wails.

The train was flying through the tunnel, weaving and rattling like a shopping cart filled with cans. The man who'd been reading the Daily News had jumped from his seat when he heard the creature shouting.

Now, he was stalking towards the rat man while the girl shrieked. The overheads were on but were glowing weakly and Vince wondered if he could see the creature clearly because he was behaving rather recklessly if he could. Like he didn't mind getting his head ripped from his fucking shoulders!

But Vince could see it, and its demon-red eyes, shining like malevolent beacons in the night.

"What the fuck are you doing to her?" the man yelled. He raced at the rat man, but the creature's tail whipped around and slashed his face wide open! It hooked into the side of his head, slithered around his neck, and snatched him from the floor!

It was now choking him like a boa constrictor!

The man's eyes were wide as he tried to remove the furry length of bone and flesh coiling about his mouth, but it wouldn't budge. Vince was standing by the door at the opposite end of the train, holding his plastic bag and the newspaper he had just swiped from the doomed passenger.

He watched in terror as the creature used its tail to spin the white man around. Then, the rat man opened its jaws and thrust his head forward, roaring out a flood of orange flames!

The man went up like a torch dipped in gasoline! His blond hair was blown back, his skin began to run and sag like a waxy mask. Vince saw two white objects roll from his blackened face, and plop to the floor. But the rat man didn't stop exhaling the flames even though the man was literally burned to ashes.

With his tail pointing straight up in the air, like a Setter in its hunting stance, he simply blasted the ashes and then the little girl and her mother next! Their screams stopped short as if cut with a pair of magical scissors and the rat man raised its head in the gloom, howling like a werewolf.

Vince covered his own ears, shaking his head against the creature's earsplitting screams. The plastic bag had fallen to the floor between his feet, completely forgotten.

Then, for a few seconds, there was a complete silence. Just the rocking of the car and the washing machine sound of the train traveling through a concrete tube. The smell coming from the charred bodies was horrendous.

"You next motherfucker!" the creature said. Its teeth gleamed in the shadows. "I'm about to teach you what happens to niggers who run their mouths, boy!"

It spit, stomped the man's eyes into the ashes, and spread them like so much dirt on the floor. (It was eerily similar to what David's mother had done to his Lorna London poster.)

"I got your fucking traps!" he screamed, suddenly running at Vince before he could react! And then, Vince remembered the traps the creature had actually mentioned! His father's fucking traps!

"You want it?" Vince screamed, watching him come at him. "Then, take it motherfucker!" he yelled.

Thrusting his hand into the bag, Vince pulled out one of the cages and simply flung it. He understood the futility of the action the second it left his hand, what could a squirrel trap do to this fucking atrocity? It would probably use the sharp corners of the contraption to pick him out of its teeth, and it would be his own fucking fault!

The rat man jumped amazingly far. But somehow, the trap landed in the middle of the aisle with a jangling crash, slid forward and stopped right beneath the creature's left foot. It stepped down and its entire body, white towel and all, violently flipped over!

A heavy grunt pushed from its lungs as it struck the floor. The trap shot from underneath it and slid backwards into the metal door behind it with a brittle clunk. It hit the door separating me from the mangled, bloody bodies! Vince thought disjointedly.

He forced aside his shock, threw the Daily News in the plastic bag and fled through the exit. He didn't hear the thing chasing him, and didn't turn to look. He ran through compartment after empty compartment, opening and slamming doors, noticing that each car he passed through was filled with blood.

And as he ran, he tried to ignore the stitch of burning pain beneath his ribs. He only thought of reaching the front of the train as fast as he could. He would get the conductor to contact the fucking police and he didn't even consider how he would describe the rat man if it decided to split the scene.

But, when Vince got to the last car his hope faltered, anyway. He approached the car at a trot and could see through the window that the next compartment was also empty. Maybe, the conductor was in his little booth, but he doubted it.

Vince saw the door swinging with the motion of the runaway train and no longer cared about how the tunnel looked. He noticed it, anyway. The darkness up ahead was the same as the darkness to either side of the car. Solid nothingness, as deep as the deepest cave in the widest ocean on earth.

He noticed the blood dripping slowly down the walls, too. A fan of red was splattered from the floor to the ceiling and it dripped from above in long, slimy threads. And the shit was everywhere!

Vince saw these things as he jogged, and was panting as he crashed through the final door. He tossed the plastic bag forward and collapsed on the soaking wet tiles. He knew it was dangerous to do this, to just lay on the grimy floor smelling the metallic odor of human blood, because the creature was on the way.

Vince had finally heard the doors slamming open and shut as he ran. The rat man was howling and snarling somewhere behind him, but he simply couldn't run anymore.

In fact, he could hardly fucking move. Even rolling side to side on his back like this as he panted furiously, trying desperately to catch his breath, felt like a quick lesson in torture.

But even as he lay there, crying and moaning and listening to the door at the end of the car he had just left slam open and shut, even as he lay awaiting his impending death, a part of Vince's mind sought for a solution. He reached out for one of the seats, thinking of standing up and his frantically groping hand finally touched something cool and slick instead.

Like plastic, he thought, and realized...the bag!

In desperation, he quickly rolled over and reached into the plastic bag. It was as if his earlier condition had vanished. For a brief moment, he no longer felt the aches and pains, and his breathing was still heavy, but not nearly as out of control.

He didn't know what he was searching for until his fingers actually felt them and grabbed them.

Vince had forgotten they were even there, but should have remembered from the weight. The combined weight of the solid objects banging against his shins as he ran for his life.

Perhaps, he should leave them in the plastic bag? Use them together like a fucking club? Something to smash the motherfucker's brains in through his skull!

Vince considered this for a split second, but realized it was too late for that now. And it was way too iffy, besides that. So he fumbled his fingers over them until he found the tiny round buttons and pressed each one. He closed his eyes and grabbed the objects tightly.

"Please, God!" he whispered. Then: "Please Lorna London, if you can hear me, my Sagittarian princess. My black, dimpled, queen. I'm your number one fan and I adore you. Please, lend me your strength!"

When Vince heard the final door bust open, he was on his stomach and didn't think. He just turned, screamed and swung them forward in a vicious roundhouse!

22.

Schizophrenia

The giant woman noticed David's distress. She had no way of knowing the source of this distress, but she understood he was very upset. And that she might have caused it by showing him the food wrapped in the strange shiny material. But, she only stood there for a moment, staring down at the boy.

David had turned from her and was studying his hands. He had nearly placed the name she'd used, Marlana Carter, but it was gone now.

Then she spoke: "My name is Kia," she said. "Kia Plazine." Her voice was soft, but still carried well in the large chamber. David didn't turn around, perhaps not wanting the woman to see the tears glistening in his eyes.

Giant or not, she was a female, and he tried to avoid crying in front of them. He bet there were probably millions of bitch niggers in the world who made a habit out of doing that. If so, he certainly wasn't one of them.

"I'm sorry if I upset you, somehow," she said. "Maybe we should discuss it?"

David thought her voice truly seemed sincere.

"There's nothing to discuss," he said. "I was thinking about my friend, my best friend. His name was, I mean, his name is, Vince. He was waiting for me at the train station on Cranberry Street," he whispered. "I don't know what the hell happened to him, whether he's still sitting in there wondering where the hell I am or fucking what!"

David turned to her; he had to crane his neck far back to look directly into her eyes (and could only do that because she was peering down at him), and they were very, very, dark eyes. Midnight eyes, he thought. Darker than any color he had ever seen.

But he saw no pupils or irises; at least, not from so far away, he didn't. And the eyeballs seemed as shiny as a child's toy marbles. In truth, they were the most startling eyes he had ever seen in his life.

Mellow light from the chandelier far above caught in their corners, turning them into sinister, shining spheres. And even with the solid black eyes she looked just like his Lorna. She had sharply slanting eyebrows, a thin nose, and exquisite bone structure. She had dimples, and wore her dark hair in long cornrows that hung nearly to her waist. She had no jewelry and didn't need any.

In spite of the waves of terror and confusion still rolling through his mind, her overall sexiness had quietly snuck up on him. And he was now hooked on it.

"Where is Sonia?" David asked her.

The woman jerked and seemed to stand straighter. The sudden movement made her heaving breasts bounce.

"Sonia?" she said. "The tiny thing you came here with?"

She pinched her fingertips a few inches apart, squinting one solid black eye at him.

"Yes," David said. "The woman who was here when I woke up, she said she's still alive. Is that true? She said that Kia saved me, but Marlana Carter rescued her. Did Sonia actually survive that shit out on the sand?"

He still couldn't believe it was the truth, but was more than willing to hope that it was.

Kia smiled. "Evian told you that, did she?" she asked him. Her smile seemed genuine, but her voice was rather frigid. Even sarcastic, David thought, and her slanted eyes glittered in the candlelight like the black ceramic tile in the shelter bathrooms.

And how long had it been since he'd thought of the fucking Camelot Hotel? It suddenly seemed like years ago.

"Evian likes to uh, how can I put this?" she said. "Likes to speak about matters that don't concern her," she finished. "Matters she can't possibly control even if they did."

Kia glared down at David, then her body jerked again. "Evian!" she yelled, and stomped her right boot, the sharp clacking sound echoing in the cool air. Her voice was thunder in the chamber, vibrating like a bell struck in a dark chapel.

David who had flinched, saw a flash of movement in the air to his right. He jerked away from it as a purple cloud puffed into existence in that same spot!

He backed away from the grape colored smoke with his eyes staring, covering his mouth, and thinking about flying bugs and poisons. His body suddenly felt very heavy and slow.

He heard a sprinkling fairy dust sound. Something jumped from the cloud and landed in a kneeling position! David just managed to stop himself from screaming.

But, this was getting to be ridiculous. He wasn't sure his heart could take much more!

David rubbed a shaking hand over his face, and peered down at the form kneeling on the gleaming marble floor.

The something was Evian!

She slowly stood up straight, her eyes staring wildly about the room. David noticed she still wore a see-through gown, but it was a light purple shade this time, just like the cloud had been.

Her enormous breasts had been spread out on the floor, and though he knew most guys would've drooled over the mere sight of tits that fucking big, the boy only thought they made her look deformed. They were too big in his opinion; like that model Cheron from the Internet.

The white rounded curves pushed against the sheer material and rose from the ground with her small frame as she stood. The fabric whispered against her smooth skin, and they looked unreal bouncing around like that. And for just a moment, it seemed she would actually tip over onto her face from their weight.

David glanced down, thinking of a certain beautiful Hollywood actress who also had gigantic, authentic breasts, and saw flat white sandals on Evian's dainty feet. She looked at him and seemed to question him with her eyes. Then, she glanced to the right in the direction of the gorgeous dark giant.

Evian's confused face attempted a smile. "You summoned me my God-Lady?" she said, her voice was quiet and anxious. Respectful.

As if trying to figure out what she had done wrong even as she accepted her punishment for the unknown infraction.

"Call me Kia," the woman said. "Right now!"

Her voice was deadly cold and David actually felt a sudden chill.

Evian, gasped. "My God-Lady," she said. "I could never address you as such, it is forbidden!"

Evian glanced over at him again as she said this, but he couldn't do anything, could he? But, pray for her and hope that God (whatever God was over there) was listening. David was still trying to get over her sudden appearance from fucking thin air!

Kia quickly strode over to the girl and grabbed her by the black ponytail hanging from her head, then wrapped it around her fist. Her fist was the size of a cantaloupe.

"Call me Kia you filthy Glint!" she screamed and punched Evian in the face with one huge fist! With the other, Kia completely ripped the ponytail from Evian's scalp!

David heard it, a dull sound like tearing cloth, and he was staggered. The tiny woman froze for a moment, her face almost comically blank as if unable to process the horrible info her buzzing head was trying to transmit.
Fluid gushed from Evian's shattered nose to the floor, and her arms were raised as if signaling a touchdown. But, when Evian glanced up and saw her own hair and bloody skin dangling above her face, she released a massive scream that boomed across the room.

David closed his eyes and lowered his head, moving to cover his ears, not wanting to hear the horrible sound of her frantic screaming. David looked up again, and saw that Kia was holding Evian by the neck, now!

She was bending Evian over backwards too, and was stuffing the pony tail, her own ponytail, into her tiny mouth with one pinky. Actually choking her with it!

With the messy end she'd pulled from her skull!

David grimaced, the poor woman's wet gagging sounds were hideous and the echoing made them even worse. Evian beat at Kia's huge hand with both of hers.

She finally grabbed one of the giant's dark thumbs, trying to pry it off her neck. But, Kia simply moved the thumb around until she pinned both of Evian's hands down, locking them in place.

As if they were participating in the galaxy's strangest thumb-wrestling match.

David was shocked, sickened, and had seen enough! His mind was filled with blind rage and he forgot his fear and confusion. "What are you doing to her?" he shouted. David began walking forward. And Kia immediately turned to face him, still choking Evian with her own ponytail.

"Stay where you are!" she said, panting. "This doesn't concern you, it knows our Eternal Rules!"

The giantess turned and looked at the woman again. Evian's once ivory skin was turning a violent purple shade as she suffocated. Her transparent eyes were leaking tears in double streamlets.

The eye shadow she'd been wearing, ran from her face like black spider webs. David couldn't believe what he was watching; he had never witnessed an actual murder.

It felt like he was having a very real, very terrifying, daydream. "Kia!" he shouted. "Listen to me, please!"

This got her attention and she eased up on Evian, glancing in his direction, again. "Please, you're killing her!" David screamed. "Her eyes are rolling back in her fucking head!"

"What's wrong with you?" she asked him. And she seemed honestly puzzled. She turned and watched as Evian pulled the length of silky wet hair from her throat, choking and spitting, her eyes still leaking black tears.

David imagined the disgust Evian must have been feeling. Her small frame shook like a leaf on the verge of dropping from a tree.

The sheer garment was soaked in what David knew was blood. Evian's blood. "I should kill you Glint!" Kia, hissed. "Stand up straight! That's an order you vile dog!"

Evian snapped to attention even as she moaned in pain. Her bloody ponytail dropped from her hand and curled to the marble floor like a dead snake, David's eyes watching it fall.

Kia's eyebrows furrowed suddenly as she also watched it fall. Then, her large hand whip-flashed out, smacking Evian hard in the face, right above her top lip!

And, David was reminded of something even as bright green liquid flew from Evian's nose and splattered on the floor again, some of it joining the wide splotches of green already on her sheer-as-silk gown.

They apparently had green blood in this dimension, something David didn't allow his mind to dwell on. But, he was reminded of Paris, and of her outrageous anger. Her violence and abuse would also seem to explode out of her like a jack-in-the-box, mostly unprovoked.

"Pick that thing up," Kia said.

Her voice lacked any emotion, but David heard the implied threat beneath the bland tone. Evian slowly leaned over and picked up her hair.

She cradled it to her right jiggling and weaving breast. Her small hands sunk into the pale mound of flesh beneath the gown, until they actually disappeared.

It was an odd garment, that gown. It molded to the rest of Evian's body even after covering her mammoth sized chest. David thought of Saran wrap, only this was a kind of purple silk, not plastic.

Evian was crying harder now, and snuffling. Her lovely features were contorted in obvious humiliation and terror. Her small nose looked decidedly crooked.

David wondered what bothered her more: The loss of her ponytail, her broken nose, or the treatment she was getting from her "God-Lady"?

She stood there sobbing as Kia stared down at her. The top of her damaged head only came up to the giant's thigh. "Evian?" Kia said.

Her voice was quiet, almost friendly. After a few moments, the tiny Glint woman glanced up warily, and Kia bent over and spat right in her face.

"Open your mouth!" she ordered.

David watched in disgust as Evian complied; she slowly opened her mouth, her body twisting in horror as Kia dripped a thick slimy string of spittle into it.

"Drink it!" Kia shouted. And, Evian began to lap at her saliva like a dog using its tongue to lap up the unsuspected treat of vomit it had come across in a dark alley.

"You've been spreading rumors, again," Kia said. "Recite the Ten Royal Demands you filthy Glint!"

David finally turned around; he did this against his own wishes. But, something in Kia's tone made him look. Evian appeared more composed, but was still whimpering. It was as if the act of reciting whatever the "Ten Royal Demands" were, had superseded her misery. Her voice was almost normal, and she seemed nearly to relish in the recital:

"Thou shalt worship only thy God-Lady!" Evian whispered fervently. "Thou shalt die for thy God-Lady at Her slightest whim. Thou shalt commit murder for thy God-Lady should She request it. Thou shalt obey thy God-Lady's every command. Thou shalt take thy God-Lady's abuse ever so willingly. And seek it." She sniffled, almost seeming to gather herself.

"Thou shalt obey thy God-lady's offspring," Evian continued. "Thou shalt feed and clothe thy God-Lady before thy self and thy own offspring. Thy God-Lady's business shall never pass thy sinister Glint lips."

Evian paused there, obviously seeing the purpose of reciting the Ten Royal Demands (David seeing it too), but he had only counted eight. Which meant there should have been at least two more.

For a moment, Evian just stood there, hugging herself. Then she spoke: "Thy God-Lady's life is above thy own life," she said, almost proudly, "and thy God-Lady's skin color and features, are the essence of beauty. They surpass thy own for eternity. Regardless, of how many eternities might come and go."

When she was finished speaking, Evian snapped to attention, again. She was motionless as a statue, and she was clutching her ponytail in one fist. Her small hands were still trembling.

Kia turned to David. "You see?" she said, smiling. "We have them very well trained. They're normally docile beasts; harmless, really. But every now and then, you have to show them how easily they can be dominated. It doesn't take much," she said, "one raised hand usually suffices. They are cowards at their very cores. But, little Evian here, has served me well for a very long time. Since I was born, actually."

She chuckled lightly as if contented.

Kia reached down suddenly and rubbed the top of Evian's head, scratching it lovingly! Evian immediately screamed in unimaginable pain, and David winced.

Kia absently wiped the green flesh and blood on her hand from Evian's open wound, onto the tiny woman's purple gown. Smearing it all across her deformed breasts. They flopped and swung like pendulums as Kia leaned over Evian menacingly, like a mountain looming over a dying tree, and then she smiled.

David saw that this smile was real, the look of nostalgia on her dark face was unmistakable. Her gleaming black eyes held a faraway look David associated with daydreaming.

"My mother placed me in its arms when I was just an infant," Kia said. She turned from Evian, dismissing her, and striding over to the throne. She sat with her legs apart, very un-lady like. Very un God-Lady like, David thought, smirking, angrily.

Where his feet had dangled from the outer edge of the seat, Kia's black boots were firmly touching the marble floor. "What is amusing?" Kia asked him.

She had somehow noticed the small twist of his lips!

With bitter shock, David realized that those black eyes, though terrifying, could see pretty fucking good! His heart skipped in his chest, but he replied as casually as he could. His voice only trembled a little.

"You say she's been good to you, raised you from birth, but you still treat her like shit?" he asked. "Forgive me, but I find that amusing."

Kia frowned. "I take it by your tone of voice that shit is not a nice word," she said. "If you are suggesting I treat it poorly?" She waved one hand, airily. "The Glints were born to serve us," she said, "they accept that in order to live in harmony with us. They all know their place. Anything else, and we would simply wipe them from the planet. They live each and every day under that very real threat."

Kia said these things matter-of-factly, as if David were a fool for not understanding the obvious. She had been leaning over with her elbows on her knees and now sat back, sighing. "It is a proper arrangement," she said. "At least, I have no complaints worth mentioning."

Kia never glanced in Evian's direction as she spoke. "I was given to Evian by my mother," she said to David. "To raise until I became fully grown. We are forbidden to raise a finger for ourselves as children." Kia laughed softly. "I remember once as a young Realmian," she said, "my head slave, Evian's mother, fell asleep during its toilet duties, and I..."

"Toilet duties?" David, said.

"Yes," Kia said. "Glints are responsible for our personal hygiene until they die. They change our soiled clothing as infants. Don't—what is the word? Nannies, in your dimension handle similar tasks?" she asked him.

David only nodded, wondering how the fuck she knew about their practices.

Kia said, "The difference is, Glints perform this function forever." Her voice was relaxed, as if discussing a topic of no importance. "One night when I was thirteen," she said. "I ate something spoiled." She fixed him with a steady gaze. "We are stronger than twenty of your men, but our stomachs are rather weak."

Kia rolled her obsidian eyes. "Anyway," she said, "I suddenly awoke the next morning tripping over slaves sleeping huddled around my bed." She paused again and giggled. "You know, I once crushed a young Glint's head," she whispered. "A teen, and didn't even know until the following morning!"

She laughed out loud, her huge breasts bobbing and weaving in her black suit. "Anyway, when I ran to the Latrine," she said, "the door was barred from the inside. Slaves sleep in our Latrines, they tend to us as is custom. Wiping us and cleaning us through the night after we use the toilets. One never knows when they might have to go," Kia said and saw the look of disgust on David's face, which made her laugh.

"It is an honor for a Glint to perform these duties!" she said. Her voice was playfully indignant. "They often fight for the opportunity to do it," she added, "know-nothing human."

"Your people sound like shit," David said, regretting the words the moment they left his lips.

Kia stopped cold, staring at him hard. He expected violence, but surprisingly, she only grinned again. And David released enough air from his relieved lungs to blow up a Goodyear blimp.

But, he was still terrified.

"I will forgive your rash words this time, human," Kia said, rolling her eyes. "When I finally broke in, I rushed to the toilet," she went on. "It was dark, the candles had died and when I sat down, I felt something soft and squishy, but ignored it. When you have to go," she said, " there's nothing you can do to stop it, is there?"

Kia cracked up with laughter again, holding her sides. "I took a shit to use your word," she said, "yes, I know what it means no-nothing human, and it felt splendid. It wasn't until I heard the screaming, that I realized what had happened. My head-slave had fallen asleep with its head over the toilet. Get it?" she said, "my head-slave? It had been throwing up, isn't that just awful?"

The giant's body was rocking in the chair as she laughed, and when she finally quieted down, Kia glanced at him. The look on her face was unreadable.

"The head slave locked the door to smoke grain-leaf," she said. "It served the little shit right, what happened. Punishment was death by public skinning. I personally scraped its skin off and fed it to the sand cats."

She eyed David to see his reaction.

He was sick with anger. He glanced at Evian and could tell by her sobs that she'd overheard everything Kia had said. It wasn't as if the bitch were trying to talk quietly!

David wanted to speak. Had to speak. But, couldn't let his anger betray him.

An idea had formed in his mind while listening to the cruel psychotic woman. (NO! he thought, not a woman! Women don't grow this fucking tall! Not even in Africa or one of them Scandinavian countries!) David was going to save Evian and take her the fuck back to earth!

No matter what it took, or how fucking long. He didn't know how he would accomplish this, and he didn't allow himself to think about what Sonia might have to say about it.

But, he was going to do it! For all he knew, this was a very life-like dream and he would awake in his bed. This place was definitely a fucking nightmare.

But, no person deserved this treatment. Even in a dream. That meant he couldn't say or do anything stupid. Especially, when the woman sitting before him could literally snap him in half.

David thought desperately for something to say that wouldn't reveal how upset he was.

23.

Pink Death

"At what age do your females mature?" David's tone was calm, almost conversational.

"Around twelve years old," Kia replied. "I was as tall as a grown human female by the time I turned six. Weighed one hundred fifty pounds, by your weight standards. Quite a handful for a Glint as you might imagine."

"You're younger than her?" David asked. Not needing to pretend a conversation now. He tried to picture Kia's mother handing down a giant baby wrapped in linen to a Glint toddler and couldn't do it.

Kia smiled. "Yes," she said. "My mother didn't trust adult Glints. Their jealousy makes them dangerous with our children. Oh, they know better than to ever let their emotions show," she said, " but they're sly and sneaky. They have poisoned their food on occasion. Evian was eight when she received me. That was sixteen of your planet's years ago, human."

David thought about it. "You're only sixteen?" he said.

He was shocked, but knew he could never see Kia as anything other than a fully grown woman. She was beyond earth's idea of voluptuous.

"Yes," Kia said. "I will be ten and seven in three moons."

"What do you mean by Glint?" David asked.

Kia pointed in Evian's general direction. "That thing right there," she said. "A Glint is the property of female Realmians. From birth to death we own them. Every inch of them, every organ in their bodies, every thought and emotion. Their very existence belongs to us. We are basically, their gods. As it should be."

"But, what does it mean?" David asked. "Why call her a Glint?"

Kia glared at him. "Haven't you seen its eyes?" she said. "The lack of color? They all have those same evil eyes." She glanced at Evian. "Slanted like a sand cat's, and completely clear," she said.

Her voice suddenly dropped into a whisper: "Sometimes, they reflect the sunlight and seem to glow! It's disturbing, you can't read them. And at night they look even worse. They glint in the moonlight like serpent eyes!" She shivered as if auditioning for a play.

"How do you know our language?" David asked. Though near paralyzing fear ran through him, he was doing his best to stay under control. But, he could feel it slipping. That last comment seemed phony to his own ears; he couldn't afford to sound too relaxed, too nonchalant. Kia didn't miss much.

Kia shrugged, giving him a peculiar look. A suspicious look. "It is not your language," she said. "No more than French is the race of the humans on earth that didn't originate in France. It is just language," she told him. "And I am not speaking English, know-nothing human."

David stared at her. "You mean I'm just hearing it that way?" he asked her. "Is that why your lips are moving funny?"

Kia smiled. "You wouldn't be able to hear my true voice," she said, and yawned. "Never mind that. There is an old saying among my people regarding their evil eyes." Kia glanced up into the air, as if thinking.

Then, she began to recite: "Dark at night the Glints creep out, from sand and lake and tree, no doubt. One Glint is bad, two Glints a plague. Three Glints must feel thy bitter blade. Death and Caveat Emptor!"

Kia grinned, and rose from the throne like a dark tidal wave.

She twisted around, exposing her back. Muscles rippled beneath her black suit, the material shimmering in the candlelight like the surface of an oil-slick.

David heard a low crackling sound, like static on a transistor radio. When a bright blue light flashed above her shoulders, dazzling in the suit's glossy surface, David jumped back. And watched as two bands of radiance slashed downward from opposite directions and formed two glowing blades in an X shape!

Kia reached up and the blades flew into her outstretched hands. "These are Mind and Splitter," she said. "Mind Splitter when used together!"

Kia screamed then, and leapt backwards from the golden chair! She hit the ground and spun forward. She seemed to glide across the floor, performing elaborate moves with the flashing swords as she went. Her suit gleamed and sparkled; candlelight struck the blades and slid off as they twirled through the air.

Her wrists rotated as she flipped each sword and snatched it back. She lunged to the left at an angle, up in the air to the right in a flourish, and then the frightening weapons were behind her back!

Kia actually went into a karate-like Stork Stance.

She threw up the blades and spun like a top. Eyes closed, her braids swinging wildly. Both blades hung in the air for a moment until she reached out and grabbed the handles with perfect hand-eye coordination.

David cringed in spite of himself, imagining what would happen if she grabbed the metal blades by mistake.

Kia lunged forward, crisscrossing them swiftly at Evian who was still standing in place. But, pulled back just before the weapons could decapitate her!

Then Kia was off again, flipping about the large room. The blades continuing to spin as she dipped and dodged, her feet tap dancing like a ballerina's. She did a violent scissor kick, there was a bright flash and the shining blades were gone! She stopped in front of Evian, breathing heavily; her solid black eyes wide with glee.

The giant towered over the frightened woman, placing her empty hands together in front of her bruised and battered face. There was another bright flash that made David blink, and the swords returned to Kia's hands! Only, they were now a propeller of pink radiance!

"Pink Death!" she screamed; the scream echoing throughout the dim chamber like a gunshot.

The whirring sound was a million bees as Kia reached down, the revolving swords blowing back the remaining hair on Evian's head, and grinned. Evian's gown billowed like drapes in a breeze as David could only watch, utterly horrified. He had a feeling the giant wouldn't pull back this time. She would keep on pushing the blades forward until Evian's face was chopped to pieces!

David imagined Evian standing there and letting it happen. He could already see the blood (green blood) gushing from the ragged stump of neck. Evian's head would roll to a stop on the marble floor, her dead face staring up at David in bewilderment.

The blades got closer, inches from her forehead, now. David looked up and noticed Kia's eyes were shadowed and a determined grin was spread across her lips, almost a menacing snarl...

And then, she suddenly pushed out!

The blades disappeared a split-second before they touched Evian! Kia laughed uproariously and turned to David, still laughing.

"Did you see?" she asked him. "Did you? She would have let me cut her head off! That is what I'm used to, know-nothing human. What all female Realmians are used to on planet Realm—human!"

Kia walked back to the throne and collapsed in the seat. "Come here!" she called out, and slapped her massive thigh three times. (David couldn't help recalling the smack she gave Evian earlier, the one that had easily broken her nose.)

Evian opened her eyes and dropped to her knees. She immediately crawled over to the giant, her kneecaps striking the hard surface with double thuds.

David winced, imagining her pain (he had collapsed to the marble floor earlier, something he didn't plan on doing again!), as Evian bent over at Kia's shiny black boot. She reached out and caressed it with both small hands. Then, began to kiss it, with deep sensuous kisses, that required the use of her unusually long tongue.

Evian even bit the material gently as if she were trying to eat it. She licked both sides of the huge boot and Kia raised her massive foot so Evian could lick the bottom of the shoe. David pictured the giant slamming her foot down on the small female's face. But, after letting her suck on her pointy heel for a moment, Kia hissed sharply, and Evian fell back to the floor with her arms outstretched and her face lowered to the ground.

"Worship me!" Kia, said.

And, David watched as Evian appeared to pray at the Realmian's feet! Every now and then, she glanced up at Kia, her eyes rolling back in her head, mouthing words David couldn't fully make out. But, he guessed were some kind of prayer.

Kia stood up and left the throne, kicking Evian aside. "Continue," she said over her shoulder.

She went to David and leaned over in front of him, she apparently wanted him to feel just how much bigger than him she was.

And it worked like a charm because Kia smiled, obviously sensing his intimidation.

David looked away and watched Evian for a moment, trying to control the intense hatred growing inside him. If he wasn't extremely careful, he would say something unwise. And Kia was right on top of him, now.

David took a deep breath, turned back to the giant and saw her watching him. Kia's bland expression made him feel naked. As if he were some new species of insect being observed in a tank.

"Who's throne is that?" David asked. Feeling stupid. It was the best he could come up with under the circumstances, but he figured he could play on her extreme vanity. He couldn't imagine anything else working on her.

Kia stood upright and folded her arms across her chest, squashing her huge tits. "Who do you think it belongs to?" she said. "You have a fully functioning human brain, use it."

"So that makes you royalty?" David asked. His voice held a slight sneer. "What are you, like a princess?"

The woman laughed. "All female Realmians are royalty," she said. "Haven't you guessed that by now? Look at me, fool! When have you ever seen such a specimen?"

David backed up and did as she requested. Kia turned around very slowly. Like a super model (maybe, Heidi Klum) showing off the season's latest fashion on the old Tyra Banks show. She held up her hands and actually glanced down to view herself as she continued turning.

David's penis stirred as he noticed the immense roundness of her hips and butt. He rose faster as the giant rubbed her own ass. Caressing herself, sliding her large palms over the slick shiny material, as if molding clay.

And now her chocolate dark face was coming back into view; Lorna London's incredible face. The giant woman completed a full turn. She grinned, sliding her hands down the curve of her hips.

Kia looked like a gunslinger about to draw, David thought. All she needed was the gun belt and a black cowboy hat to pull down low over her eyes.

Her dark eyes glittered at him, seeming to mock him.

"You like?" she asked, and glanced down at the bulge in the front of his pants. It seemed a pointless question, since she could see the answer for herself.

Kia stopped rubbing her hips and laughed. "And my face," she said. "Is perfection itself, as your kind say." She waved one hand and fell straight backwards!

David thought she had completely lost her mind, but a huge wooden chair appeared just before she fell to the floor, catching her nicely. It wasn't as ornate as the golden throne, but had a giant purple cushion on the seat, and was large enough to support the Realmian's weight. A weight David couldn't begin to guess at.

Kia sat back in the chair and regarded him with black eyes he couldn't read. It was like staring into twin pools of ink. And she had spoken disparagingly of Evian's eyes? he thought. Had actually called them disturbing?

"I'm fourteen-foot eight, by your measurement," she said. "Our males don't grow beyond five feet or so. We kill most of them and save a few for slaves."

"They are all slaves?" David asked, imagining that. His heart was beginning to pound again.

"Sometimes we get a deviant who reaches nearly six feet and we use them for breeding," she said. "Or simply for pleasure. We keep them in cages on the lower level. They are just a notch above Glints in our society. They serve us, and worship us, and though I do not condone it, some of us even make them serve the female Glints."

Kia stopped speaking, glaring into the shadows. "Marlana Carter is one who practices that abomination," she whispered. She gazed at David again, the dark look mostly gone. "Our females normally grow past thirteen feet," she told him.

She leaned back and glanced at Evian, who was still bending over at the throne, and was whispering incoherently. "We put roots in their food to keep them so tiny," Kia said, conspiratorially. "We find it safer to have them so much smaller than we are, not to mention more erotic."

She smiled at him. "You know of that word, don't you," she asked him. "Smart guy know-nothing human?"

When David only looked at her, Kia laughed and clasped her large hands. "Yes, I know of your culture," she said. "I have seen what you consider entertainment. Sports and movies, and music, like your black people's astonishing rap music. We still haven't figured that one out," she said, "perhaps the Sagittarius had something to do with it, but it has crossed over into seven thousand dimensions."

The Realmian leaned back on the throne. "Wait until you see how we do what you call sex over here," she said. "The things we make the Glints do will shock you."

Kia was regarding him out the corner of one black shining eye. David wondered if she was crazy enough to think she didn't look suspicious.

"What about the males of her people?" David said. "What are they like?"

"We enslave them," Kia said. "Or give them to our daughters as pets on their tenth birthdates. Why do you ask?" There was frank puzzlement in her tone. A kind of innocence and sincerity that was frightening.

David sighed. "I just wondered how they felt about the situation," he said. "How they felt about being slaves."

Kia shrugged. "It makes no difference how they feel," she said. The giant rose from the chair and observed Evian for a moment. Then, she smiled and walked over to her. With one hand she snatched her from the floor by the neck! Kia smiled as she raised her free hand above the Glint's face, making a huge claw.

What now? David thought, panic flooding his mind. Why can't she just leave her the fuck alone?

Kia flicked her fingers and after more bright blue light flashed, talons appeared in place of her fingernails!

Evian struggled, but the Realmian effortlessly used her claws to dig out her right eye! The Glint whipped and screamed, but Kia ripped and gouged, until a small white object lay in the palm of her hand.

"This is fair punishment, Glint," she said. "Now you are forgiven."

Evian's screams were dreadful and impossible to describe as the giant threw her clear across the room where she hit the marble like a sack of rocks, slid a few feet and lay completely still.

Then she stirred and amazingly, crawled right back to the foot of Kia's throne! David watched, appalled as she began to pray again. Continued to pray to her God-Lady with green blood pouring from her ruined face.

Now he understood her comment regarding the mirror. Kia's mirror. What difference did it make how you looked if this could happen to you at a moment's notice?

David wished he could ease her pain, somehow. Her frantic whispers were becoming extremely unbearable.

"I can make it do that all night," Kia said. "Sometimes I do when I'm in the mood. It soothes me to sleep." The giantess broke out in shrill laughter.

Kia showed David the bloody eyeball. He saw Evian's hazel iris, and his mind swooned. It looked strange in Kia's palm, like a clear diamond set in glistening white marble. Evian would never see through it, again. The grief that washed through him at this realization, was beyond any David had ever known.

Only the loss of his Lorna London poster (thanks to his racist mother) came close and he'd known a poster could possibly be replaced. But, only this anger could truly match the sorrow he'd felt in its intensity.

Kia placed the eye in a hidden pocket above her left breast. It bulged there like a marble beneath her suit. For some reason David thought of The Princess and The Pea while she wiped the blood from Evian's eye on one leather clad (if it was leather) thigh.

"You keep calling her an 'it,'" David said, and walked away from Kia. His body was strumming with wrath, but he remembered those spinning blades. Were he not so small and weak, he would kill the bitch right now.

"She's a person," he continued. "Maybe not like you. But, still a living, thinking organism. What did she do to deserve this?" he asked her. "Did God intend any of us to live like this?"

Kia snickered. "Save the spiritual nonsense!" she said. "You sound like Marlana Carter and that insufferable feces beetle, Yarakki!"

She went to the chair and sat down again. "Leave it to them and Glints would breed freely," she said, "what then? Get overrun by the wretched parasites? Glints have served us for ten thousand years," she explained. "We are their Gods. Yes, they are bred like sand cats; yes, we hold their lives in our hands. And they are basically prisoners on their own planet. But, they are treated fairly despite that," she said. "Too fairly, I say."

There was a very cold edge to her voice. David decided to change the direction of his questioning.

"Why were her eyes closed?" he asked. "While she was standing up? She kept doing that and it was creepy."

Kia waved her hand. "It's an unwritten rule," she said. "Glints close their eyes in our presence unless being addressed. There was a similar rule in your dimension once." She smirked. "Though times have certainly changed, haven't they," she said, "president know-nothing human?"

Kia sneered at him. "We were all shocked!" she said. "That certainly wasn't the original plan, not in 1958! African-Americans in the White House? What happened, know-nothing-human?"

David ignored her obvious reference to President Obama, the first black president. Kia apparently hadn't been exaggerating about knowing his culture well.

"I asked you about Sonia," he said. "I want to see her. I need to make sure she's okay."

He was at least fifteen feet from Kia now, hopefully far enough. He saw her expression shift and a frighteningly wary look replaced her previously bored one. She went through moods like New Yorkers went through seasons!

"What are you worried about?" she asked. "Certainly you don't think she's getting similar treatment?" Her expression went blank again.

David wasn't sure what he thought. He only knew his concern for Vince and the crazy shit the alien woman had done, were beginning to gnaw at his mind.

He suddenly felt acutely claustrophobic, as if the huge room had somehow grown tiny.

"The only conversation I want to have is with Sonia!" David said. He walked around the room glancing at Kia nervously. Afraid to turn his back on her for long.

"Can you help me find Vince?" he said. "I saw all the magical shit you did. I saw those blades appear on your back. How did you do that?"

"It comes from within us," Kia said. "We're born with currents of energy flowing through our veins. It comes from the suns. It was but a small sample of my true power."

"Can I see or hear Vince?" he asked again. "I think he might be in big trouble. I don't know, it's just a feeling I have."

"Vince was in your world," she said. "He will soon be over here. In fact, I may have heard he was already here."

"What!" David said, and stared at her. "Already here? And you've been wasting my time on bullshit?" he asked her. "Where the fuck is he? I have to speak to him, and try and explain some of this crazy shit before he flips out!"

Kia gave him a steady look. "I said, I heard he was already here," she said, "what I heard could have been false. Calm down, David Jackson. Shouting at me will get you nowhere. But, will certainly cause me to get angry. Do you wish for that?"

The gleam in her death-black eyes seemed psychotic, now. It was the first time the Realmian used his name, and it seemed strange coming from her alien mouth. So strange it gave David pause.

"If he is here," Kia continued, "Yarakki will see to him, so there's nothing to worry about. No reason to shout or curse at me."

"See to him, how?" David asked. He couldn't hide the suspicion in his voice.

"Yarakki repaired your damaged eyes," Kia said. "I would think you can trust him to take care of your friend and any...injuries he may have sustained."

David's eyes widened. "He was sitting in the fucking train station," he said, "what the hell do you mean by injuries?"

"Nothing," Kia said. "Never mind that for now, accept that he is in good hands. Especially, since you have no choice in the matter." She stared down at him. "We have monitored your side of the world for ages," she said, and smiled. "You asked if we had such technology, didn't you? A little while back?"

David nodded, even though he didn't remember asking her that. But he may have. He was still thinking of Vince. Injuries, meant he was hurt, or well on his way to becoming hurt. And all David could think of was his own frightening ride to the bottom of that sandy slope.

He suddenly saw the Robert Jordan ad on the subway in his mind, and realized with a nasty shock that the ugly creature beneath the four glowing moons had actually been a Sandsucker!

"We have devices that provide surveillance on whomever or whatever we choose," Kia said. "We have access to all planets and dimensions, including earth. We have observed your world for decades."

David listened as Kia talked, filled with a deep sense of foreboding. "We know every living thing on your world," she said. "Many your people don't know exist, especially down in your dark freezing oceans. There is a thing we call a Piranhasaur, after your dinosaurs. Your scientists will never find it. They hunt late at night, and skim the surface of your oceans, searching for small boats."

David tried to imagine this creature, decided he didn't want to, and asked: "What about here? What were those things out there? The ones that attacked me?"

Kia, smiled. "Titsy beetles," she said, "you were gassed with their fumes, the gas contains flesh eating microbes. Yarakki said we barely reached you in time to reverse the reaction, your skin had already started swelling."

"Get Sonia for me," he said. "Then, we can discuss whatever you want to discuss. Not before then."

David had struggled with his next question from the moment he saw the giant woman, the Realmian, Kia Plazine. He knew he was taking a huge risk by asking it (who knew how she might react?), but he had to. It wouldn't have made any sense, on any level, if he didn't.

"You say that you know of our world?" David said. "Our customs and forms of entertainment?"

Kia stared at him. "Like pornographies?" she asked. "Like your Kim Kardashian? I have endless snooper scope crystals containing earth data, what about it?"

David peered up at her from across the room. "Do you know of an actress from our world, an amazing woman named—"

"Lorna London?" Kia finished for him. "The black human? So you have finally noticed the resemblance, huh?"

Kia grinned, flashing David a perfect white grin. Apparently, Realmians and Glints, took excellent care of their teeth and skin.

"Yarakki has perfected a device that alters our facial features," she said. "I instructed him to find the most popular look on your world, and this is what he came back with."

Kia tilted her face to one side. "It was between her and someone named Jessica Biel. A young Caucasian. Of course, I wouldn't be caught dead in her disgusting peach-colored skin, shiny black hair, or those bizarre, green eyes. But she legitimately has the body of a black woman, and facially, your Jessica Biel's bone structure is phenomenal."

Kia paused, gazing at him. "You sound strange, human," she mused. " Do you love this Lorna London person?"

She said it as a girl teasing a boy in class might say it. David thanked God Kia couldn't see him blushing. "Um, I just noticed that you kind of...looked like her," he said. "You almost look like...sisters."

Kia laughed at that. "I look like her?" she said. "Human, except for my height, skin color, eyes and hair (all much better than hers, I might add), I am, as you would say on your world, a carbon-copy of Lorna London. Excluding my body, of course; Yarakki's device only makes exact facial duplicates, and I was correct, wasn't I?" she asked him. "You do love her!"

David didn't know what to say. He already felt about as humiliated as he ever imagined he could feel. He wanted to go and find somewhere to hide, but of course, stayed where he was. Letting Kia gaze at him for a moment, as if she were considering something.

And then, without warning, Kia walked over and snatched him up. "Come here, little guy!" she said, lifting him up by the front of his shirt with one hand. The shirt nearly slipped off his body but she grabbed it so tightly, it now felt like a straight-jacket.

Kia covered his face with sloppy kisses before he could say a word. David reached out and tried to push her away, but she only laughed. Her pink tongue darted from between her teeth and licked him, the tip probing his tiny mouth, roughly forcing its way in.

Kia laughed as she did it. And only later did David imagine biting the massive thing. Smiling, as she yelled and her slimy fucking tongue, bled.

But, in reality he only struggled in her hand.

"Yummy," she said. "I wonder how the rest of you taste. Especially that creamy treat inside of you? And you humans are weak, know-nothing human. I would make your Lorna London bow at my Realmian feet!"

Kia poked him in the belly with one long, black fingernail. David squirmed like a hooked eel and fell from her hand to the floor thirteen feet below!

She could have caught him before he struck the black marble (David truly believed that), but didn't. The impact was tremendous, his pain larger than life itself. Pain seemed to keep outdoing itself in this brave new world.

"Fuck!" he screamed. "My fucking arm!"

He writhed on the smooth floor clutching his left elbow. He didn't think he'd broken any ribs (at least, he prayed that he hadn't), but every part of him was hurting terribly.

Kia looked down her nose at him with her hands on her wide, curving hips. "Serves you right," she said. "I'll go get your precious Sonia." Her dark face wrinkled with disgust. "You can talk," she spat. "Then you can meet the Queen."

She broke into a wide grin, and her teeth flashed bright against her coffee-colored skin. "She's been looking forward to meeting all of you for a very long time," she said, "almost twenty of your years, in fact."

She said this as if David should feel deeply honored.

Kia looked over at the woman still kneeling before her throne. The Realmian raised her right hand, and the handle of a whip appeared in a flash of green light!

Three tiny daggers were attached to the whip's long slender tip."Enough!" Kia screamed, and flicked her wrist. The daggers opened in the air like metal talons and hooked into Evian's pale skin!

She screamed as she was jerked backwards into a standing position, the hooks pulling at her flesh. Evian stood there with blood flowing down her back until the daggers dislodged, and with a sharp zipping sound, withdrew into the whip's handle.

"Come, Glint!" Kia said.

Evian immediately hobbled towards her, tears flowing down her pale cheeks.

Kia glanced down, David was wiping spit from his face. "You will learn to want my kisses little man," she said, watching him for a moment, "you'll soon beg me to shit in your mouth, and ask for seconds."

Then, she rolled her solid black eyes, tossed her braids (the beads clacking together), and strode across the room.

Kia snapped her fingers, and Evian scurried behind her, limping and whimpering. Her gown stuck to the green blood trickling down her back as she walked.

David watched as the star-shaped portal opened again and the giant stepped into the corridor.

The slave woman followed close behind. It was a pitiful sight; Evian was eight years older than the Realmian leading her like a dog on a leash.

David could never see Kia as anything other than a grown woman, but according to her, she was only sixteen, a mere girl.

Evian's shoulders were hunched, but she was peering up at Kia's muscular back. She scurried miserably in her huge shadow, just like a chastised child.

24

Of Mice And Men

The rat man never knew what hit him. Nearing the final compartment, he had slowed his insane pace, expecting some devious trick when a quick glance showed that the last car was empty.

He'd heard the fucking runt running up ahead of him, banging through the doors, but then the sounds had simply disappeared. As if he had vanished.

But when he saw the open door swinging, the rat man thought he understood. The boy had run into the small conductor's room, perhaps to try and stop the train.

"Good luck, nigger!" he said. The rat man smiled as he reached the entrance to the last car. The little human didn't know it yet, but he was about to get eaten. The conductor was dead, as were all of the passengers in the train. Killing them had been fun, and the boy was going to be next.

Once he was dead, retrieving the book would be easy. The rat man thought of the boy's trick with the trap, and a dull anger rolled through him. How lucky was the runt to have thrown the shit right where he stepped?

He had fallen hard, but the only thing really hurt was his pride. He didn't like looking like a fool. She told him not to fail or there would be no reason for him to return. But she didn't have to worry about that, he was mad enough to want the nigger caught on his own.

The rat man slowed for a moment, thinking of her. As big and strong as he was, she was over four times his size. He could get bigger when he became angry (just like The Incredible Hulk, he used to think), but not much bigger. She on the other hand, could perform solar-electrical magic on top of her enormous size. His muscles clenched beneath his fur and he shivered.

He remembered the time she came upon him one night while he was on Guard duty at the portal to Queen's Cave, and had mistaken him for someone else, someone she was currently upset with. Doctor Yarakki had barely reattached his arms and legs before he bled to death.

The rat man shuddered, staring into the next car. The train was rocking wildly now, the conductor's door still slamming back and forth against the metal wall.

"Why didn't he close the door?" he growled softly.

Wasn't that a normal human reaction when fleeing from danger? Didn't people in movies always run into rooms and then lock the doors?

He thought so, but it was hard to reason when he took this form. The process Doctor John Clark from the esteemed Benjamin Cardozo High, and Columbia University, had performed on him made his mind weaker even as it increased his strength five times.

Not too bad of a trade off, he'd thought at the time. But now, he wondered. He watched the swinging door, thinking about what would happen if he didn't do what he had to do and go. If he didn't leave in time, even she wouldn't matter in the end.

But he couldn't rush it, couldn't take any chances—failure was not an option. His first task was to get the book; killing Vince was up to him. And he had already decided that one. This little white nigger was about to learn real pain and he would do the goddamn teaching!

But he had to catch him first, so he watched the swinging door. He could hear it hitting the metal wall. Bang...bang...bang! It rattled like a shopping cart after each bang. His mind automatically associated that metal rattling sound with cages, which made him think of the trap. The metal one the fucking runt had thrown at him.

He suddenly gathered his rage, roared, and rushed headlong into the last car. He slammed through the metal door and a blinding white light greeted him!

He heard a frantic scream and shut his eyes. But, not before a brilliant glare was imprinted on his eyeballs. He fell forward blindly, his furry arms outstretched as his rat feet touched something wet beneath him.

In that same instant massive pain exploded in his nose making him scream like a cougar. It was as if he'd just been smacked with a cinderblock. Roaring in anger and fright now, the rat man stumbled into the subway car and slid on his chest. Despite his pain and fear, he scrambled to his feet but they jerked from beneath him again. He sneezed violently as he fell.

He slammed back down and felt wetness when he tried to brace himself. Some slimy substance was covering his paws, and when he sniffed at it, he smelled blood. He growled fiercely, like a dog sensing a burglar in a neighbor's backyard. He had put the blood there himself while ripping off the heads of the eighty-four ex-passengers. He could still feel their life-forces pulsing through his veins.

His next roar was his loudest yet, and the sound reverberated through the entire compartment, hurting his own sensitive ears. He scrambled to his feet as his vision returned. Hazy white light steadily grew sharper. And then, he heard a sound.

A sneaky, shifting noise behind him. And then, this thought blazed in his mind: The boy had tricked him after all! He hadn't been hiding in the conductor's cabin. He was waiting for him crouched on the floor, down in a pool of blood!

When he came rushing into the car, the boy had obviously screamed, blinded him with bright light, made him slip, and struck him with some blunt object.

But, what if he wasn't done? This next thought stopped him in his tracks. Then he spun around, snarling. And when the flashlights slammed into his face, breaking his nose and shattering his front teeth, he only thought of her. The alien woman that would kill him if he returned empty-handed. She could kill him, bring him back to life, and kill his ass again. As many times as she wished to.

And, even when the boy savagely beat him into unconsciousness, growling himself as if he too had changed into a raging beast, repeatedly crushing his skull with the flashlights that were made of reinforced steel and would never break; even then, he thought of her.

As the blood poured down his face, the rat man imagined the electricity she would sizzle and fry his blood with, if f his body could even be found once the C train finally crashed and exploded. He thought these things as darkness rushed up to greet him finally, and he embraced it.

25.

The Better Rat Trap

The rat creature had finally stopped twitching. Vince backed away from the motionless body, dropping the flashlights to the floor of the train with a double clunk. His hands were trembling and his whole body shook; his fingers were covered in blood that seemed maroon in the fluorescent lights. He looked at his hands, grimacing, bringing them up to his face. He glanced at the rat thing, thinking he'd seen it move; perhaps, its paws twitched?

But, it was still lying crumpled on the floor where he'd left it. Resembling an animal violently run down in the road, and like most of the ones he'd seen in his life, he couldn't tell what it was by simply looking at it.

Vince had done great damage to its head and the violence on his own part had been frightening. But, he just couldn't stop swinging the damn flashlights. Once he started, he just couldn't stop. What appeared to be brains were leaking from its furry skull and its muzzle was totally flattened. At one point, Vince had turned the flashlight upside down, using it like a dagger, stabbing the creature in the face over and over.

Only this dagger had a blunt edge instead of a razor sharp one. He only stopped because he heard the handle striking the floor of the train and the thought of what the sound meant, shocked him from the trance. He had punctured the rat man's fur and flesh, straight through to the tile beneath him! That was when he finally backed away in horror, and dropped the Black & Decker's.

The train was still flying, not even pretending to be making any more stops. Vince somehow understood that the rat man had done something to the train, he had a vague feeling, almost like precognition, that the rat creature had programmed it to crash somewhere.

He thought of the Daily News he swiped from the man (he wanted to look at it) and turned to search for the plastic bag. The rat man had stepped on it when he ran into the compartment. And since his feet were already wet from the blood covering the tiles, it was understandable that he would slip and fall. Even so, Vince hadn't expected it, and couldn't believe it really happened.

He was lucky to have remembered to switch the flashlights on, too. When he heard the door bang open, Vince quickly turned and threw a flashlight, while shining one directly in the creature's face. The rat man had closed his eyes and raised his arms to block the light and consequently never saw the plastic bag beneath him.

He slipped and Vince chose that instant to throw the shining flashlight at his face. It was a direct hit. The creature's teeth exploded like a shattered window, it howled and crashed to the bloody floor. Vince had watched him fall, watched him slam to the ground where he started howling even louder.

The boy had desperately tried to think, and for a moment he had gazed out the train windows where all was steady darkness. The thought of jumping off the train had already come to him and then quickly floated away.

Not yet. That would only be if he couldn't defeat it. At that point it wouldn't really matter. By then, jumping from a speeding train wouldn't seem so insane.

But, what had really saved him was the sound of the train rocking along the tracks. That, and the rat man's overall confusion; they combined to create a golden opportunity that he had taken advantage of.

As the creature tried to get up but fell back down, Vince quietly edged across the seats on the right side of the compartment, and got behind him. When he picked up the first flashlight, the one he threw, it rattled as if something inside of it had broken, and the rat man heard it. That was when Vince saw his huge rat ears perk up, and the effect had been like a bull seeing a red flag.

He attacked the creature with both flashlights and it never had a chance to defend itself. Its Dragonball Z muscles didn't matter. Its height didn't matter. The fact that it could somehow shoot actual fire from its ratty throat, didn't matter. (It had forgotten it could, anyway).

Vince beat him with all of his might. What remained of his half-rodent body was nothing more than a lumpy pile of fur coats. The previously white towel still dangling around his neck, was drenched in blood, and there seemed to be some clear fluid streaming from it.

Now, he wanted the bag and not just for the newspaper, either. David's book was also in there, the book on rats that had started this horror-fest. And then, the boy wondered about something: How had the rat man even known there were traps in the bag? How could he have known that? Vince remembered him mentioning the traps, right around the time he was biting off the little girl's arm. What had he said?

His voice had been gruff, like a lion in the zoo suddenly trying to speak...damn, he couldn't remember! But, he needed to get his fucking bag. Was it possible the creature was after the traps or maybe even the book, Neeq Snagem?

That felt right somehow.

And then, Vince finally thought of David again. When was the last time he'd thought of his friend? Hours ago, it felt like.

The realization stunned him. He checked his wristwatch and saw it read: 12:05 p.m. Where the hell was David? Why did he have the feeling he was in grave danger?

He hurried to the end of the train where the bag was still sitting in blood. His backpack was also on the floor, halfway under a seat. Vince bent to one knee to retrieve it. Had the voice on the phone really been the rat creature? The voice pretending to be David? This thought occurred to him as he grabbed the bag, and it also somehow felt right.

Vince opened it, and saw the book, relief washing through him. Then, he placed it on one of the seats and reached back in the bag. He pushed aside the last trap and withdrew the Daily News.

Some blood had gotten inside the bag, and was smeared over a portion of the front cover. But, none touched the printing. "Shit!" Vince hissed. "I've gotta do some fucking reading anyway, don't I?"

He sighed and leaned over the paper. A small box beneath the headlines directed readers to turn to pages 4 and 5 for further information regarding the accident.

Vince did as instructed, opening the newspaper flat on the floor. The first thing he saw was a color photo taken from far above ground. Smoke was rising towards the camera in dirty white clouds, and in between the smoke, he saw bright orange and red patches that were obviously fire. White jets of water streamed into the middle of the smoke from hoses on red fire trucks. Firemen in yellow and black outfits, they reminded him of human bumble bees, were frozen in time as they ran.

A deep chill ran through Vince as he read the article below the photograph:

"Tragedy struck in Manhattan at 12:45 p.m. yesterday afternoon as a subway train on the C line violently crashed into another train waiting in the 58th Street station. Passengers were entering and exiting the train when the accident occurred. The impact of the runaway C train knocked the other train's cars off the tracks, causing them to flip over. Luckily, no passengers were occupying those last cars at the time of the collision. The first train exploded upon impact, and authorities have yet to disclose if they suspect terrorism. The damage was extensive to both subway cars, but the first C train was demolished. The force of the explosion blew a manhole cover from the street and a pillar of fire poured forth that set cars in the immediate area ablaze. The investigation is ongoing, but witnesses so far have told the News that the train never warned the station it was out of control.

The horn was never used according to one source. Cautious reports also say that no distress calls were logged at the MTA control center directly before the crash. The strangest information came from a paramedic at the scene who spoke on condition he remain anonymous. According to him, the last C train should have been filled with passengers. An official report will show just how many people used the turnstiles that morning, but the source believes as many as eighty people were on the train when the collision occurred."

Vince looked up from the paper, thinking the article didn't say anything about the kids being decapitated. Why would they lie about that? Or at least, not mention it beyond the blaring headline? He looked down again and continued reading. The article was basically finished and they never mentioned the kids getting their heads ripped off: "The paramedic said only two bodies were pulled from the rubble at the scene of the accident. A young girl and a boy. The races of both victims were given as African-American.

The ages are still unknown as of yet. Only minor injuries occurred in the train that was struck. Quite a few people needed hospitalization, but there were no broken bones, or life-threatening injuries. If anyone has information as to acquaintances and loved ones who may have been riding the subway at that time or around that..."

Vince stopped reading and sat down hard on the bloody floor. He didn't notice as blood began to seep through the seat of his pants. He didn't feel the vibration of the subway car tickling his spine as it sped through the tunnel. A train accident. On the C line down at Fifty-eighth Street, which happened to be exactly where he was headed. It also just so happened to be where David was supposed to meet him. What did that mean? Anything?

The newspaper was obviously reporting on what had already happened, yesterday afternoon, at 12:45, as a matter of fact. A little after lunch time.

Yes, a black boy and girl were killed in the accident but that was yesterday. And besides, he had just checked the time, and...Vince glanced at his watch, and his breath caught in his throat as if his entire body just got submerged in freezing cold water!

His Timex sports watch read 12:36 p.m. But, how?

It hadn't taken that long to read the article! And then, another thought surfaced: What if the accident hadn't happened yet?

This question came accompanied by a whisper, a soft sound, that made him jerk his head in fright. The sound seemed to come from just behind his head, as if someone had spoken into his left ear! Had whispered: Vince!

But, nothing was there, just the row of seats covered in drying blood. The train hit another curve and the metal wheels squealed in the darkness and Vince suddenly knew he had to get off the train. The C he was currently riding in was going to collide with another C waiting at Fifty-eighth Street! It was no longer just a possibility. Or a vague feeling. It had become a cold certainty.

Vince scrambled to his feet. He snatched up the newspaper, having to grab the edges and peel it from the blood on the floor. He pulled out the pages about the crash and folded them. He stuffed the pages in his back pocket and retrieved his backpack from the seat. There was blood on the bottom of the bag, plenty of it, but not enough to matter. It wouldn't have mattered if it was drenched in blood.

He next picked up the two flashlights and removed the one that remained in the bag. It was still shining. He pressed the button that turned it off. The light winked out and he stuffed all three flashlights into his backpack. Then he pulled the last squirrel trap out and regarded it, frowning. It wouldn't fit and he knew it.

Vince didn't want to leave it. One of them saved his life back there when the rat man stepped on it. Perhaps this one could serve some purpose?

He decided to take it, and was just about to turn towards the front of the train compartment when he remembered the book. The fucking rat book, Neeq Snagem. He was about to forget it. It was as if something were trying to make him forget it!

Vince went to look in the black plastic bag, but stopped when he noticed the book in one of the seats. How the fuck had it gotten there? He didn't care. Snatching it up, Vince opened his pack and crammed it in. He checked his watch: 12:42 p.m.

Shit! he thought. I'm already out of time.

Vince was on the verge of panic, about to jump up and run back down the train (perhaps trying to outrun the imagined collision), but he steadied himself, instead.

He took a deep breath and looked to the front of the subway car. The car was careening sideways as the train turned, and he somehow sensed that this was the very last curve before the next station. Once the car straightened up, he would have one minute at the most. Fifty-nine seconds, if he was unlucky.

He ran to the front of the train, backpack on his right shoulder, the squirrel trap dangling from his fingers. It hurt as his fingers bent with the weight of the metal, but he ignored it. In a few minutes, his fingers would be the very least of his worries.

Vince opened the conductor's door; stopped it from swinging actually, it was already open, and he peered inside. He saw a jumble of brightly lit electronic equipment. His vision was filled with red flashing lights and glowing doodads.

He saw a black metal stick with a rubber grip that may have been an emergency brake, but he didn't know. And there was no time to find out. He saw the small conductor's window, toyed briefly with the notion of trying to climb through it, and turned back to the front of the train.

Vince could see it. He could suddenly see the back of the train up ahead! His own car had finished the curve and was now on the final stretch. The rear lights were glowing brightly far down the tunnel, but his train was bearing down on them, on the lights attached to the C blocking the tracks!

Oh shit," he whispered. It was all he could think to say. The white circular lights, one to either side of a patch of darkness, were rushing towards him.

The train was as loud as an airplane roaring down the tunnel; it was no longer dark, and he could see the tracks flying beneath him. Just my luck, he thought. Now, I can fucking see!

It came on steadily, those twin lights of the train. He wouldn't be able to see them clearly until he was right on top of it. It wouldn't matter then, because he would soon be dead if his train was still speeding out of control like this.

If he didn't die from the crash, he would certainly die from the flying glass and twisted metal caused by the explosion. It would be like getting in a steel cabinet filled with nails and hammers and dynamite, and then blowing it up. The shrapnel would do more damage than the original blast.

The train was going to crash. Vince checked his watch for the very last time, saw 12:43, and that was when he noticed a purple cloud forming right outside the train's front window! A purple cloud? Vince blinked twice, wiping his face with one shaking hand. He thought he was only imagining what he saw. But, the cloud was still there. Vince squinted his eyes, stepping just a little closer...

A girl leapt from the cloud, and slammed into the window with her right shoulder! Vince jumped back as she crashed through, and landed on her feet. A shower of glass scattered across the floor. "Quick!" she said. "Grab my hand Vince!" she thrust out her hand, and Vince grabbed it, too frightened to refuse.

Her palm was warm and soft. And in that brief instant he saw two startling things: Her breasts were gigantic, bouncing in opposite directions and barely constrained in a flimsy purple blouse. And he saw what looked like very bad burn marks on one pale arm, just above her wrist. He could even see green veins right below the burn marks, nestled beneath her white skin. The girl looked down.

"The trap!" she screamed. Vince saw it on the ground, but didn't recall dropping it. He reached down for it and the second his fingers snagged the metal his body was jerked backwards, moving away from the conductor's cabin at a terrific and terrifying speed!

He watched in horror (and dark wonder) as the view reversed itself, and his body flew away from the front of the train! He was breathless as wind rushed past him. Back through the first door he went, slamming it open, but not feeling the impact.

Down the aisle in a flash and bang through the next door, down the next row of seats, his feet off the ground, purple clouds all around him. A whiff of sulfur swept up his nose, making him cough and sneeze. He flew backwards with the train's interior a blur on both sides, the ceiling lights flashing above his head.

And when the explosion came up front, he heard a scream and turned around. The girl was behind him, pulling him by the backpack! She was flying somehow, flying backwards and bringing him with her!

Her straight, black hair flapped at the sides of her face. Vince looked right into her eyes when she glanced at him. Despite his already considerable shock, the girl's eyes startled him. Not only were they slanted and almond shaped like an Asian's, they were perfectly clear, like no eyes he had ever seen in his life.

She stared at him for a moment, seemed to take his measure, and then glanced over his head. He saw her eyes widen and he jerked around again. A ball of fire rushed at them, enveloping the section of car they just passed through!

Seats turned to colorful liquid and began to run down the aisles. The fire got closer, and Vince could feel the heat as the clouds of bright flame began to catch up to them. It was like standing over hot coals in a barbecue grill. Vince knew it was over when he smelled the stench of his hair burning.

He thought of Back Draft, the movie about fires and firemen. The flames were like this in the movie. A massive inferno that seemed alive, roaring and eating up buildings like a rampaging animal. Vince had poked fun at Ron Howard's use of the roaring sound to depict his central theme: Fire is a murderous beast.

Vince was no longer laughing. As his eyelids singed, he felt the heat melting his face. He could no longer breathe, his lungs were filled with hot air. He realized Ron Howard was right all along. Fire really was an animal. It could bite you and strangle you and scrape you raw from head to toe. Then bake you like bread in the oven for good measure. And the sounds it made. The menacing, growling sounds...

They slammed backwards out of the C train and straight up into cool night air just before the last explosion destroyed the remaining cars. Vince felt the pain of the burns on his face and hands and arms. But, he mostly felt relief, and the brisk wind whipping around his head as they zoomed up and away from the bustling street.

Vince saw lights on the ground, and vaguely wondered how it was nighttime. Tiny moving lights sped both ways and he knew they were cars. And then, they were flying away from the lights, his clothing flapping in the wind and the last he remembered they were entering what appeared to be a cave. He glimpsed a stone structure above the dark opening as they dipped inside. A woman's smiling face. A familiar face. Then, Vince felt the chill air blowing on his back, saw what appeared to be stars, and fainted. The metal trap had vanished.

26.

The Happiest Day Of Her Life

When Sonia Parker stepped into the chamber, the hidden door closed silently behind her. She paused, glancing about the dark, open space. It was cool, and filled with shadows. They seemed to stretch out and deepen, as they moved away from her and towards the far wall.

She smelled a sweet aroma. It drifted on soft currents of air, but was different from the scent in her compartment. This was a blue smell, and soft. More like baby powder, Sonia thought.

She scanned the area, but noticed no windows. Unless, they were far to the left where she couldn't see, or were covered up just like the ones in her room. Heavy red drapes blocked off the three she had noticed in there.

But she knew it was daytime outside which meant the sunlight from the four separate suns would be surrounding the palace and trying to get inside the walls.

Sonia was expecting fancy names for the suns but had been disappointed. Marlana Carter had simply referred to them as CUARTO-4. It reminded Sonia of the men's products she saw in commercials during sports telecasts. Fancy-looking electric razors and such.

Not seeing David, she called for him.

"David? You in here? Answer if you can hear me!" A slight echo followed her voice. Otherwise, silence greeted her and the somber light coming from small chandeliers hanging from hooks on the walls.

Glancing up, Sonia saw the largest one hanging by a single thick chain from the middle of the ceiling. The six white candles created a warm glow, it beat back the darkness in a wide arc of brilliance. The candle flames flickered as if caught in a draft, causing shadows to jump and prance like long limbed gremlins.

At first, Sonia couldn't understand how the candles could possibly be lit so high up. Then she remembered Marlana Carter and her amazing height. The woman said she was over fifteen-feet tall! Sonia only knew that Shaq's head would only come up to her fucking elbow, if that. Maybe she couldn't light the candles on her own. But, she could easily use something to reach them.

It never occurred to the girl that Marlana Carter or any Realmian female, possessed magical abilities that could have simply zapped the candles lit. That idea would take some getting used to. Not that she planned on being there long enough to get used to it.

"David?" Sonia called much louder this time. Her voice echoed as if she were standing in a long hallway. A hallway with a shiny black floor. She walked forward, her heels clopping softly. The furnishings were sparse in this chamber, and the dark marble seemed strange after all the pillows covering the floor in her own bedroom.

Her own bedroom. She frowned at this concept.

Sonia thought "her own prison" was probably a better phrase. Marlana Carter had been friendly to her, showing her around the palace, introducing her to different people who resided in the cluster of tall white buildings. But, Sonia began to understand she was really a prisoner after their first real conversation.

"So when can we leave?" she had asked. "I'm feeling much better, now. I think David and I should be getting back to our...um to our, world."

Sonia felt like a fool saying that. But, it was the truth, wasn't it? Wherever they were, it wasn't earth, and she was tired of it. Her fucking parents would be going ballistic by now! They hadn't heard from her in over forty-eight hours and she was only supposed to be going to Staples for some fucking ink cartridges.

The one on her Dell printer had run out and she had finally decided to replace it. Fucking hell of a detour, she thought. So, this was to be her punishment for procrastinating? But, Marlana Carter had only shaken her regal head, and continued to survey the sterile landscape.

Sonia was just about to ask her again when she finally spoke. "That will be up to the Queen," she said. "I suggest you don't count on it happening however. Queen Pricilla didn't bring you here, revealing so much we strive to keep hidden, just to turn around and let you go. I don't think you would make it far even if she did."

"Why not?" Sonia had said, not liking the sound of that.

"Because a Realmian would kill you long before you crossed over," Marlana said, and turned to look at Sonia. "This is serious business that you've walked into," she told her.

Marlana smiled. "I understand that it isn't your fault," she said. "I'm not saying that. But, it doesn't matter one way or the other. You, my dear, have just become a top commodity on our planet."

Sonia stood there peering out into the Void. Seeing the bulky vehicles kicking up waves of sand and not seeing them. Hearing the grumbling motors and not hearing them.

She had no idea that David had just arrived out there. But, in a different time frame and off to the right where she couldn't possibly see him. (He had even noticed the sunshine glinting on one of the vehicles she was watching.) It was no coincidence that Marlana Carter had brought her to this particular set of windows, though Sonia wasn't aware of that.

A top commodity? she thought. What the hell could possibly make her valuable to these people? And was that even the proper term? Were they really even people?

They were standing on a balcony overlooking a vast desert. Sonia had already asked the giant why the suns hadn't burned her. But, Marlana didn't respond; she just kept staring outside.

As far as Sonia could see, the land was flat, and lacked any trees of any kind. Huge silver vehicles were rolling along the surface on what looked like the large treads of a military tank. The treads left dark tracks across the sand that reminded her of the marks giant sidewinders might leave.

Light from the four suns washed the landscape in blinding radiance; tiny stars twinkled as the rays touched the rolling, thundering machines. Sonia had thought of Frank Herbert's Dune the minute she saw them. The sound reminded her of the vehicles she saw in the movie, only these tanks were much smaller.

"What are they?" Sonia asked Marlana Carter, pointing. "Those funny looking vehicles."

"Grit Pullers," she replied. "We use them to sift through the sand. It's how we fumigate in a way." The giantess looked down at her. "Many creatures nest right beneath the surface of the Void. The Grit Pullers have rotating blades that slice through the sand and scoop up clutches of eggs."

"Eggs?" Sonia asked.

"All kinds of eggs," she said. "Titsy beetles, tiger snakes, squitoes. They are something like your mosquitoes, only a hundred times larger. Not to mention thorny lizards." She sighed. "They are the worse. They breed very quickly due to the harsh climate and if we didn't control them, they would quickly overpopulate the Void."

"What would happen, then?" she asked.

Marlana Carter, frowned. "They would eventually reach the land beneath this palace," she said. "Not long after that, they would eat through the very foundations and enter Mount Chrysler." She shivered, and turned back to the window. "Thorny lizards grow to three feet long and can breed even as they run and climb and fly, because they have male and female lizards on both ends. They are vile creatures."

"What!" Sonia said. "On both ends?"

Marlana smiled down at her. "Horrible isn't it? Two fully formed heads and upper bodies. One lizard excretes urine and feces from the other's mouth. I have seen them do it up close in Yarakki's lab. A horrid sight and they smell abominable. Feces and urine are not a pleasant combination!"

Marlana Carter went on to explain that thorny lizards would split in the middle during the night, usually in a nest they had made beneath some rocks, and release fifty-nine tiny black sacks. The eggs would be the size of golf balls. Marlana didn't know about golf. But, the circle she made with her huge fingers matched their size. And in minutes, they would hatch, she'd said.

The lizards would scurry from the shells covered in black slime, and within seconds they would sprout furry wings and fly. When thorny lizards attacked they spit acid into your eyes, that way you wouldn't see the six-inch stingers. This had been Sonia's assumption, Marlana Carter didn't tell her that.

The stingers were beneath their throats and transmitted eggs into your body that immediately hatched inside of you. They could repeat this hectic reproductive schedule for three months straight.

By the end of the first month, there would be far more thorny lizards than there were coal vapor birds, tiger snakes, and sand cats, to eat them. Far more than there were Realmians and Glints to destroy them using poisons, blades, or projectile weapons.

Once thorny lizards overran you, Marlana Carter said, there was no way to get rid of them. Even Mental Flu wouldn't work, she said, because like most creatures on Realm, they were resistant to the Realmian's electrical powers.

Thus, the Grit Pullers. The blades were twenty feet in height, fifteen feet wide, razor sharp, and slashed deeply as they spun through the sand, churning up hundreds of thousands of thorny lizard nests. The Grit Pullers would work until nightfall when they would then have to stop.

Once the suns set, the Void became a dangerous world where animals much deadlier than thorny lizards and even Sandsuckers, appeared from the black depths.

Now that she knew they were there, Sonia could suddenly see dark objects being tossed in the air. A whole bunch of them. Monster eggs, she'd thought.

Sonia had glanced up at Marlana Carter, thinking she would comment on them, but she'd remained silent. The huge woman stood beside her, towering over her head. Her posture was erect, and very elegant as she gazed out the window. Sonia had studied her profile, marveling at her exotic beauty. Her long hair twisted into thin braids, framed her gorgeous face and lovely smile.

Her complexion was dark chocolate, and made her teeth look even whiter than they really were, and Sonia had never seen teeth so white. Though she never came out and said it, Sonia thought Marlana might be royalty. If not, she certainly carried herself like a princess, or even a queen. That was really why her clothing was so shocking to Sonia.

Marlana wore a pink gown that Sonia had no trouble seeing through. All the way through. She tried not to look, but couldn't help it. The giant's voluptuous figure was on full display beneath the sheer garment, every curve and crevice, but she didn't appear to care.

Her attitude seemed natural and as relaxed as could be. As if she dressed this way all the time, and perhaps she did. Her face was smiling as she peered down at Sonia. Her only disturbing feature, the thing that rattled Sonia's nerves if she looked too long, were her wide coal pit eyes beneath long, dark lashes.

"Did you enjoy your meal?" Marlana Carter changed the subject.

Sonia had to step back to see her face. She felt like a toddler next to the colossal woman. "The food was fine," she said. "What I want to know is why we're here?"

A pane of clear glass separated them from the heat outdoors. Though the suns were shining at full strength, the light didn't penetrate the window. "The Queen requested we retrieve you from your world," she said. "You and your friends were in great danger."

Friends? That was plural, not singular. David was a boy she had only just met. Perhaps, it was understandable that these people would consider them friends since they had been on the train together.

But, "friends" indicated that the woman was referring to at least one other person.

Sonia decided to leave it alone for the moment.

"What danger?" she asked. "From what, or who?"

"From agents of the Black Diamond," Marlana Carter, said. "That is all I can say. It is actually too much. When you speak to the Queen, or other Realmians, act as if we never spoke of these things at all."

Sonia had nodded, not knowing exactly what things she was referring to, and wanting to ask. Agents of the black diamond? She knew of blue diamonds and pink ones. The Pink Panther films starring Peter Sellers, were based on a pink diamond. But, she had never heard of a black one, couldn't even imagine one.

"What is a black diamond?" Sonia finally asked, frowning. "Why is it so important?"

"It is the reason we can survive in this dimension," she said. "Don't think of the diamonds on your world. A Black Diamond would have no value in your world, and isn't even an actual diamond. It came from our universe, not the Valonian Quadrant. It's two onyx pyramids attached at their bases. It stabilizes our eco system, and basically, protects our dimension from being entered without authorization. It glows with a healthy violet light when functioning properly."

The woman sighed. "When fading in strength," she said, "the color turns a sickly yellow; it is now yellow."

"What do I have to do with it?" she asked. "I've never even heard of it. Or this crazy world!"

The woman sighed again, looking out the window. "The Black Diamond is dying," she said. "Rat King was supposed to protect it from harm, but..."

She stopped, and glanced down at Sonia. "I believe he has been corrupted." she continued. "I don't know how, or by whom, but we sent snoopers to his world and the information they transmitted back was very discouraging."

"What are snoopers?" Sonia asked, and Marlana Carter turned back to the window. Sonia looked too. The Grit Pullers were now making wide concentric circles in the sand. Clouds of smoke puffed from metal smoke stacks.

"They are devices we brought with us," she replied. "They are like your video cameras, only they fly and can be controlled from the palace. They revealed that Rat King had left his post."

"What does that mean?" Sonia asked.

The woman was frightening her with this crazy talk, but she couldn't deny the intense look in her dark eyes. They were twin voids, slanted caves, where a faint red light seemed to shine.

But, far in the back, like a distant star. They still conveyed emotion and totally freaked Sonia out. "It means that our world, our dimension, is in grave danger," she said. "Rat King has always protected the Diamond; for as long as I can remember. And for him to shirk his duty took some very persuasive tactics."

She glanced down at the girl.

"He sounds dangerous," Sonia said.

"Generations of fiercely defending our way of life," she said, "has made him near invincible; so something much stronger must have threatened him. He is not even afraid of death if he dares turn his back on Mount Chrysler!"

The giantess was frowning, and peering through the glass. She suddenly seemed even bigger to Sonia. If they were out on the desert beneath those four glaring suns, she bet her entire body would have disappeared in her immense shadow.

"This Rat King couldn't be found?" Sonia asked. It seemed impossible, all of it did. The fact that they were on another world, for starters. The fact that this woman was taller than a tree, and had eyes as dark as the shadows in hell. (How was all of this possible?)

"We have no idea where he is," Marlana said. "We feel he might have left the tunnel and traveled up and out into your world."

Sonia stared up at her. "Into our world?" she said. "He can do that?" She tried to ignore how silly she felt talking this way.

"Yes," she said. "His soldiers can do it as well. Did you not see rats infesting your human dwellings?"

Sonia thought of the rats she often saw in the mornings on her way to school. Climbing through fences, moving around inside garbage bags (the way they made the black plastic ripple, was disgusting), running beneath the tires of parked vehicles. Some even flattened in the road, like cartoon rats, their ratty little arms and legs splayed. Yes, she knew of the rats in New York City.

There were tons of them. "Those are his soldiers," Marlana Carter said. "They keep their powers hidden until they have to attack. I mean really attack. Few humans have seen what rats can truly do. If they ever did..."

She paused, smiling down at Sonia. "Once, a human from your dimension," she told her, "Alphius Six we call it, stumbled into one of our many portals controlled by the Black Diamond. As his luck would have it, he crossed over into one of Rat King's training camps out in the Void, just as he was teaching a lesson."

Marlana rubbed her massive shoulders as if suddenly chilled. "Rat King has them well trained," she admitted, "breeds them to do massive damage on command. Well, this human watched them attacking an alien gladiator. The gladiator was destroyed easily, humiliated, and all because he'd failed in whatever mission Rat King had sent him on."

Marlana stopped, and was gazing down at her. "Something has frightened him to the point he no longer trusts his own army," she said. Which isn't good."

Marlana exhaled, and glanced out the window again. "But, on that day, as soon as the human saw the horde of rats turn their attention to him," she said, "he panicked."

"Because of them?" Sonia asked. "The rats I see running through the alleyways? You're saying they're not normal rats? They've been changed somehow?"

Sonia couldn't believe the crazy shit she was suddenly being asked to accept!

"You don't understand," Marlana said. "Any rat you've ever seen in your young nineteen years belongs to Rat King. Your dimension has never had normal rats. Only rats from here, from our world. Take my word for it," she said, "a baby rat would demolish your world's fiercest wild beasts. Yarakki has performed numerous experiments; pitting them against other organisms. The rat always wins. In truth, they are virtually indestructible."

She touched Sonia's shoulder. "Be thankful the Black Diamond still shines," she whispered, "if only for a short time. But, it must be restored, and quickly, or the portals to your world will remain open forever. Rat King's mental control of the rat army will waver and eventually disappear if that happens. You think your world has rats, now?"

She didn't finish.

"Where are we?" Sonia asked. She didn't want to change subjects, she needed to.

"Realm," Marlana replied. It rhymed with helm. "I am a Realmian. The land you are viewing is called the Void. We rescued you and your friend David, from the other side of this desert."

Sonia was nodding. "Yeah," she said. "The desert." Where David had been badly hurt, maybe even blinded.

"Vegetation grows over there, but nowhere else on this planet," Marlana said. "Cuarto-4 kills most green organisms as soon as we plant them."

Sonia thought of the spinach-like stuff she and David walked through two days ago. "What was that stuff?" she asked. "The shit that looked like it belonged in a salad?"

The woman laughed. "Gandy-grass," she said. "It is used to make grain-leaf. Doctor Yarakki grew it in his lab. It's the only addictive substance on Realm. And one of two species of plant that actually thrive here."

"Doctor Yarakki?" she said.

"Yes, he discovered a way to protect the Gandy-grass from Cuarto-4," Marlana said. "You will also meet him. He will be in the Queen's Hall when the time comes. Sitting right by her foot no doubt, if not actually biting her toenails for her. He will explain how to use the equipment you will need."

Sonia's skin prickled. "Why would I need equipment?" she asked. "What kind of equipment?"

Marlana Carter glanced down at her for a long moment. Beyond the glass, Sonia heard the faint growl of powerful motors sputtering back and forth across the sand. "Do you have any idea who you are?" she said, softly. "Not where you are, young lady, but who you are?"

Marlana crossed her arms and frowned down at Sonia. The curious angle of her head said she could wait for an answer all day long. And was going to.

Sonia was struck dumb. It was the strangest question she had ever been asked in her life. She stared up into the woman's spooky black eyes. Seeing her own reflection in those eyes; trying to see if she was teasing her and unfortunately, saw Marlana was dead serious.

"Do I know who I really am?" she said. "What kind of question is that!"

Her voice was loud in the corridor. A few Realmian males passing by jerked in unison and hurried past them; hunched over the circular metal trays they were carrying.

She thought one of them actually resembled Jamie Fox! "You people kidnapped us!" she spat, "and now you're acting as if you know us. Or as if we should know you? I'm Sonia from fucking earth," she yelled, "that's who I am!"

"Calm down little one," Marlana Carter whispered. And although her voice still held a pleasant tone, Sonia obeyed immediately.

She suddenly felt compelled to close her eyes! Then, she heard a loud, snapping sound, and her eyes flew open again. Her head felt woozy and dazed, as if she had just been deeply asleep.

Sonia stood there, gaping up at the tall woman and began smacking her lips. Her mouth was suddenly sandpaper dry.

"What the hell was that?" Sonia asked, rubbing her forehead. It was throbbing slightly.

"Mental Flu," the giantess said. "I only gave you a slight dose. I didn't want to harm you. But, your pointless anger was beginning to perturb me."

Marlana was still crossing her arms. "You were out for twenty minutes," she said. Her face was unreadable, now. But, her normally soft voice was stern. "There are many of us in Mount Chrysler who wish to eat you and your friends," she told her. "Even as you scream. But, I am not one of them. I asked you that for a good reason."

"What reason?" Sonia said.

She hadn't heard the word eat but her head was beginning to clear, and her mouth no longer felt like it was filled with cotton. "Who am I then?" she asked her. "I always thought I was just a black girl from Brooklyn who was tired of living at home with annoying parents. Who else am I?"

Marlana Carter hadn't answered her. The rest of her conversation was more talk of the Void, talk of Rat King, and the creatures that dwelled in the desert. Marlana didn't address the topic again until much later. And not with Sonia.

27.

The Aqua-Sauna

Now, Sonia walked into David's gloomy chamber wondering if she had maybe come to the wrong one. And before she could stop it, another thought surfaced: What if she's been lying to me? And was lying for the past two days? She remembered the strange liquid Marlana had given her upon waking, and recalled her own deep apprehension.

Sonia didn't trust it, or the person giving it to her. She had eventually decided to give in if that was what it would take to see David. But, he could actually be as dead as a box of nails, and Marlana was simply stringing her along. Playing her like a fiddle. It was possible, wasn't it? But, to what end?

What could Marlana possibly gain by deceiving her? Sonia didn't know, so she continued further into the chamber, looking for her new friend. Praying she was wrong about it.

She saw a huge chair standing alone in the middle of the room. It gleamed in the dim light coming from the candles above. Some kind of golden throne, she thought. It was the biggest one she had ever seen in her life, even in movies.

Sonia thought Marlana Carter might be able to fit in it comfortably. Or another Realmian (she saw groups of them walking about the halls, massive females with astonishing bodies, like gargantuan black girls, some prettier than others, but all exotically beautiful.

Incredibly, Sonia thought one had actually resembled Jennifer Hudson, and another Jordan Sparks), but it was obvious that the average human's feet would never reach the floor while sitting on the throne.

Sonia stopped halfway in the room and listened, cocking her head at an angle. A sound was coming from the far left corner of the chamber. A soft sound like falling rain.

She saw a large swatch of darkness over there, and a faint pulsating light. She continued walking towards the noise, her heels clacking faster. And, she was smiling.

"David!" she called. "It's me, Sonia!"

She was nearly running, now. Before she reached the glowing button she saw steam billowing from the base of the wall. Other than that, the smooth blue surface was unremarkable.

Sudden pink light traced a square two feet from the marble floor, and a section of wall slid upwards to reveal a glass partition. David stood within the glass enclosure, peering out through the foggy pane, as naked as a newborn child!

Jet streams of pink water crisscrossed in the shower, hissing like snakes, shooting the powerful spray from small silver nozzles located at the top of the enclosure. The water seemed to undulate in bright waves that resembled the flowing bands of electricity.

Sonia saw his hands imprinted on the glass and the shadow of his penis, before she could turn away. Despite her embarrassment, the girl was overcome with happiness. It was true! She didn't know how it was true, but it was!

David was really alive. And using the Aqua-Sauna to boot. That meant he was feeling pretty fucking good, because the jet sprays were powerful, nearly painful.

Sonia stood with her back to him. "I'm sorry," she said, "I've been calling you for a long time." She coughed into one fist. "I didn't see your...dick," she said, "don't worry."

Sonia heard the sound of something sliding open and wet footsteps smacking the floor behind her. "You can turn around," she heard David say and she did. Unfortunately, the boy was still naked!

"Shit!" she said, turning again. "I thought you had covered up David!"

David laughed. "You must be a virgin," he said. "You've never seen a guy's privates, before?"

Sonia deliberately turned back around. She knew he wanted her to look, but didn't care. She stared directly at his penis, which was beginning to elongate, and fatten, as she watched.

"I've seen a man's dick before," she said. "Plenty of them. I've got three older sisters, and they don't mind fucking their boyfriends in front of me. Sometimes right on the bed while I'm sleeping! How old are you again? Seventeen, eighteen?"

David was grinning foolishly at her. Despite her bold talk, the girl was clearly stunned. "I'm eighteen," he said. "And you already know that. So what?"

"So, you're not the biggest I've ever seen," Sonia answered. "That's so what."

His laughter echoed across the darkness. Sonia glanced up at his face, having to drag her eyes away from the huge thing. Her own face held an amazed expression that seemed partly offended. As if she didn't like the fact he was so well endowed.

David strode across the floor dripping pink water, his cock was flaccid (a soft six inches), but was growing steadily. It bobbed and wagged, slapping against his thighs with meaty smacks.

Despite her slick talking, Sonia had never seen a cock as long and wide as his before. It had to be thicker than a fucking soda can and he wasn't even hard!

Sonia watched him happily, admiring his body, feeling blessed that she was black too. Racism wouldn't be an issue if she wanted to get with him. David looked slightly feminine with his round butt and thick thighs. But, his stomach was flat as a board, and ripped with muscles that looked so perfect, they seemed fake.

Sonia had no idea he looked so sexy beneath his normal clothing, a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt. It was one of the things about black guys that fascinated her. Undressing them was like opening a Christmas present you were sure to like.

But, David was alive. And apparently no longer blind! His eyes were wet, but otherwise seemed okay. "You can see?" she asked. "I thought those suns fucked you up?" Sonia was extremely thankful for her dark skin. It hid her blushing face perfectly. "You can really see?"

David blinked water from his eyes and shook his head briskly. His penis swept from side to side, bobbing and weaving in the air. Droplets of water flew everywhere, some landing on the marble floor. Even in the candle light they looked a bright pink. It was like the boy had washed in fruit punch.

"I can see how pretty you are," he said. If his smile was meant to be lecherous, it only brought a thrill to her heart.

Sonia had already convinced herself that David was not only blind, but was somewhere in the palace screaming in a dark room. His shouts out in the desert had haunted her, making it difficult to sleep. She thought of how she had tossed and turned in the quiet chamber, unable to get his screams out of her head.

How many times had she heard them over the past few days? Echoing through her jagged dreams, making her feel guilty?

"I'm stunned too," David said. "I think my eyeballs actually melted. They put my head in this machine, and after I woke up..." He waved his hands in a flourish. "My eyes are back to normal, that's the point. Not as nice as yours of course, but I can see again."

Sonia wanted to hug him but restrained herself. Especially since he was naked, wet and already getting a hard on. But, his looks were severely affecting her.

David stopped at a box-like object that might have been a cabinet, but was surrounded by shadows and was merely a square shape in the gloom. Sonia assumed it was furniture because there were two in her room of a similar shape and size.

When Sonia examined one of the cabinets in her chamber, trying to figure out what kind of wood had been used to create it, she realized the wood didn't come from any tree on earth. She was positive about that. And not just because it was green, either. That could have easily been some kind of paint or varnish.

But, when Sonia tried to open one of the drawers, the cabinet squeaked and melted into a glowing green puddle! It slithered across the room, squealing like a nest of baby mice.

The cabinet reformed its shape on the other side of the chamber, wiggled a few times, and remained still. Sonia had stood there amazed, deciding not to examine any more furniture for the time being! That had been right before the giant came into her room for the last time. (Perhaps an hour later by Sonia's watch, that somehow still worked.)

Marlana strode in while Sonia was lying in bed; she walked over to the green cabinet, knelt down, and whispered something. And to Sonia's surprise, the cabinet melted again. And did the slithering thing until it was back where it had started from.

Sonia was naked beneath a large white quilt. (Her clothes were currently being cleaned.) Marlana Carter thought she was sleeping and the girl didn't want her to find out the truth. So, she'd held her breath, secretly watching the giant woman.

Marlana Carter went to the green cabinet, and placed the candle she was holding atop its dull surface. The cabinet squeaked and wiggled, once. Marlana grasped a black handle on the front section of wood and when she pulled it open, a river of papers spilled out and scattered across the colorful pillows. Marlana started rifling through them.

She found what she was looking for and returned the rest of the papers to the cabinet.

It had apparently been packed with white papers, but when the furniture melted again, the papers and whatever else was in it, disappeared.

Neat trick, Sonia had thought. And later, after Sonia asked her about it, Marlana Carter didn't exactly say what made the cabinet slide across the pillows like a green serpent, or where the documents inside had gone.

But, she intimated that the source of both mystical occurrences came from inside of them. From some strange ability to control matter.

David picked up white garments that were folded in a neat pile. "I see you've already washed and changed," he said, and smiled.

"You look nice and very clean," he told her, "Quite lickable, in fact."

"Fuck you," Sonia said, grinning. She was wearing a dress that fell to her knees, and black leather boots. The thin white material fit her body like a second skin.

"Not so fast me lady," David said. "We only just met this evening. I don't normally hit 'em and run."

Sonia sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. David laughed, pulling on the clothing which amounted to a white shirt and slacks of some light airy material. It definitely wasn't cotton, and looked more like silk.

The shirt had a large hood, two pull strings and wide pockets. There was also a weird symbol on the chest area. It seemed a mixture of many symbols and was shiny gold in color.

"I'm fucking starving," David said, now wearing the outfit. He turned around as if modeling on a runway. "How do I look?"

"Like a fucking idiot," Sonia said, grinning harder. She thought David actually looked nice in the clean white clothing. And she didn't think so just because she could clearly see his dark manhood bulging beneath the thin material.

It was steadily shrinking back to its normal size. If her estimation was correct, the eighteen year old boy was over ten inches long!

"You haven't eaten yet?" Sonia asked, trying to control her pumping heart. "In two days?"

"According to Evian, she's a woman I met in here," he said. "They fed me with some kind of machine. I guess it worked because I didn't get hungry until I saw you. Think my stomach's trying to tell me something?" he asked her. "Or my mouth?"

Sonia waved her hand. "Stop playing," she said. She smiled, and glanced around as David sat down on the cabinet and put on black boots she hadn't noticed before. "Is that a normal cabinet?" she asked.

David glanced up, still tying the boot's laces. "What are you talking about?" he whispered.

"I just wondered if you noticed the furniture in here..." she began, but paused, unsure of how to say it. "Did anything move?" she finished.

David finished with the laces. He sat up and peered around. "Move?" he asked. "What did you see move?" He looked at her again, his face puzzled.

Sonia jerked her head at him. "The cabinet for one thing," she answered.

David jumped to his feet, and spun around, backing away. "This cabinet moved?" he said. "When?" He was staring at it hard.

Sonia giggled. "Not that cabinet dummy," she said, "the one in my room."

David glanced at her. He wasn't smiling. "How did it move?" he whispered. "And, it moved to where?"

Sonia walked to the cabinet. "It changed shape," she said. She bent over and touched the surface. "It began to melt and slithered like a snake."

She looked up at him, considering. "It made these ugly squealing sounds," she said, "like baby birds screaming for food. No, like rats. Baby rats in a nest." She shuddered. "And it was glowing David," she went on. "I thought I was going fucking crazy!"

David peered at the cabinet. "It changed shape and it was glowing?" he said.

She nodded. "And moving around," she said. "When Marlana Carter came in, she opened it and took out papers. The cabinet was filled with them, but they disappeared when it melted."

"Who's Marlana Carter?" David asked. "I keep hearing that fucking name. Is she related to Jay-Z? Or Little Wayne?" That seemed way off, ludicrous actually, but he was mostly thinking out loud.

Sonia got up and walked over to him. She stood right in front of the taller boy, staring up into his eyes. "Have you seen the people in this place?" she said. "The woman I'm talking about, she was taller than anybody in our world. She's a giant, David. There's a whole bunch of them running around here. And I was right about that other dimension thing, too."

David gazed down into her eyes; letting his mind wander in her pale irises. He reached out and gently stroked the warm spot beneath her right ear with his thumb. "I'm glad you're okay," he whispered. "From now on, you don't leave my side, understand?"

Sonia peered up into his face, her brown skin radiant in the candle light. "Whatever you say, captain," she whispered back.

She slowly spread her pink lips into a sumptuous smile. Her lips were fat and David thought they glistened like frosted doughnuts. And without warning, he bent down and kissed them. It was a long, deep kiss, filled with both of their tongues. And after a good minute or so, David finally pulled away.

"I love your complexion," he whispered. His penis was beginning to grow again and Sonia welcomed it.

But, didn't reach out and grab it like she wanted to. Instead, she licked her lips and closed her eyes for a moment, maybe trying to tease him with her most deadly weapon.

"I thought you were into light skinned girls?" she said, looking at him, again. "Like Lorna London? What sane black guy doesn't like her?"

There was no anger or malice in her voice as she said it. "I can't deny Lorna London's phenomenal," Sonia said. "I'm probably her biggest fan. But, some females just have it like that, don't they? Like some white girls? Like Shyrelin Finn as Candy Cane, in Ruby? They can make guys do anything without even having to ask. Guys they don't even know exist, are constantly thinking of them. Sweating them so hard it's crazy." She frowned. "But, I don't mean you!" she added quickly.

David grinned. "I can't help how I feel about her," he said. "But, I'm not stupid. Lorna London's beyond us, beyond me. I'm only writing a novel about her because I'm infatuated with her, and I hope to meet her one day. But, I've never confused my fantasy with reality. Besides, I don't mind loving her from afar—it's fun."

"You're writing a book?" she said, "about her?"

David nodded. "I'm trying," he said. "I'm putting her in a street novel. I'm hoping to attract two separate fan bases at once. People who love Lorna London, and would buy anything about her. Like myself. And the people who already love urban fiction and want something different."

"What about the people who hate her?" she said.

David smiled. "Then, they can just read it for the story," he said.

Sonia grinned. "Smart," she said. "Should work. How is it so far? Any good? Come on," she said, "don't be modest now!"

David shrugged. "I'm using pretty obvious marketing techniques," he said, "that I'm hoping will work, but I would never short-change my audience. I'm going to make sure they get way more out of it than whatever they pay for the book. I plan on knocking down quite a few barriers too," he said, "like on that movie Finding Forrester; I bet some people got a few laughs off of that shit. But soon, they're gonna be crying. And by the way, I'm her biggest fan, Little Sonia!"

She shrugged. "I've never seen that movie, but I guess you're right," she said. "I imagine writing a book is pretty hard. You must truly love her to go that far and I can't wait to read it."

David smiled. "You will," he said. "Assuming we make it back home in one piece." He exhaled.

"So you like dark skinned girls, too?" Sonia, said.

David frowned at her. "Like them?" he asked her. "I love them! I was looking for one forever. But, it seems like either they're too insecure about themselves, or too desperate for attention. And I know that's not every single girl, but—"

"I understand," Sonia said, waving one hand. "What do you feel about me?" she said. "Right now, I mean."

David shrugged. "You're one of the most stunning girls I've ever seen," he said simply.

Sonia, giggled. "And I should believe you really mean that?" she asked him.

David suddenly reached down and grabbed the hem of her form-fitting dress and raised it up! Sonia was too stunned to react. She just stood there, naked, and staring up at him in utter shock.

David put a finger to his lips. "Hush," he said. "I just wanted to see if you were still wearing the shirt. You made me want to see her face again."

Sonia smiled, more excited than angry. "You could have just asked me," she said. "Yeah, I'm still wearing it. Marlana Carter had one of her helpers wash it for me. You should have seen her reaction when she first saw it." Her grin, widened. "Do you mind?" she asked, glancing down.

"Oh, sorry," he said. "Yeah, I'm done."

He took one last lingering glance and lowered the garment, saying "What I was going to say is, I think it's safe to say I have pretty good taste, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she said. And then, she did something that shocked the hell out of David. The girl suddenly reached into his pants and grabbed his penis!

"I've come across quite a few niggers," Sonia whispered, "who only mess with light skinned girls. I always see that look in their eyes, I can tell they like me, but they usually front on me."

"Fuck them!" David said, hissing as she squeezed him harder. "They're only scared because they most likely feel insecure about their dicks," he whispered, "believe me, I know."

David gasped as Little Sonia pulled his cock out and held it in both tiny hands. Even to the boy, it resembled a thick, brown tree limb. He watched as she rolled it from side to side in her small palms. Thanks to her warm touch, David had risen much faster than normal.

"Whoa!" she said. "Down boy!"

Then, she slowly opened her mouth and crammed at least four inches of his cock into it, but could go no further.

Her jaws were clearly spread as wide as they could go and it still wasn't even close to being wide enough. But despite that, she pushed her head down a little further and bobbed up and down ten times, then finally pulled David's dick out of her mouth, gasping.

Strings of saliva dripped from her numb lips.

"Oh shit!" she whispered. "Oh shit nigger; that shit's fucking long and thick! Got-damn!" she said, "but I just had to taste it!"

Tears streamed from her pale eyes as she stood up straight, breathing hard, and still gazing down at him. David was now fully hard and even he was amazed at how big he had just gotten.

Sonia glanced up at his face again, wiping away the tears. "You stick that shit in girls?" she asked him. "How?"

David stared into her eyes, something he was just getting used to doing. "Very slowly," he admitted. "Few girls can take it."

He suddenly thought of Paris calling him tiny-dicked. And, wondered what Sonia would say if he told her that. "Why'd you do that?" he asked her, putting his dick away. "And you know," he said. "You were right, this is another dimension, just like on an episode of The Outer Limits." David appeared to think of something. "Was this woman very dark skinned?" he said. "This Marlana Carter?"

Sonia nodded. "First of all," she said, "I owed that to you, and you'll get much more later if we ever make it back home. I swallow by the way. And as far as Marlana goes," she said, "Marlana's much darker than me. With long braids, but looks like a white woman wearing dark make-up, and her features are incredible, David. Every angle of her face is perfect," she said. "Like Shyrelin Finn's features. I actually thought she could compete with Shyrelin and Lorna."

"Oh yeah?" David said. "She must really be something."

"And she was walking around completely naked!" Sonia continued. "Can you believe that? She didn't give a fuck who saw her goods. And she had some fucking goods!"

David smiled. "You must have met the woman Kia told me about," he said.

"Who's Kia?" she said.

David sighed and turned away from Sonia, reminded of what had happened to Evian. He shook his head and faced her again. "Never mind," he said. "How are you doing?" David reached out and gently grabbed Sonia's shoulders. "I saw you hanging from that vine or whatever in the sand...I thought it was over for you. I was trying to get to you, but those fucking bugs..." David exhaled. "I'm just glad you're okay," he finished lamely.

"Likewise," Sonia replied. Again, nearly hugging the boy. And why shouldn't she? She had just sucked his dick. Her jaws were still throbbing from the experience!

"We have to talk," David said. His voice turned grave, frightening Sonia a little. His brown eyes were staring into her hazel ones. "Let's sit down," he said gently.

"Where?" she asked. "I don't see anywhere to sit." Sonia eyed the black cabinet. "And I'm not touching that shit!" she said.

David turned her small body around by the shoulders. He led her to the throne. "Sit," he ordered. He had to help her climb onto the golden seat. And when the girl was sitting, her feet dangling over the edge, David dropped to the marble floor, and crossed his legs like an Indian. He had to look up to see her face.

"I think we might really be in trouble," he said, at last.

"What kind of trouble?" she said.

David shrugged. "I woke up in this room," he told her. "I was lying on a large cot, but it's gone, now. Between the time I first met Evian and Kia spoke with me, it vanished. That's not important, though. Evian's who I want to discuss," he said and paused. "She's a slave here," he said in a strange voice.

Sonia's eyes widened, glittering in the somber light. "The Realmians call them Glints," David said. "Because of their light colored eyes. They say it with bitter hatred and jealousy; you know, the way some call us niggers...Glints."

"You must be making a mistake," Sonia said. She sat up on the throne and slid forward to the edge, looking down at him. "Marlana Carter is a Realmian," she said. "But, we talked; a real conversation. She's a little strange, but nice overall. She would never have slaves David!"

"You don't know that," he said. "I'm telling you they all have them, all of the women, anyway. The Realmian men are treated a little better than Glints, but not much."

He glanced down at the marble floor. "They're small and weak," he whispered harshly. "Mere pets to the females. I haven't seen them up close, but Kia gave me a pretty good description of them."

Something tickled Sonia's mind, a vague thought. The result of David's words.

"Glints have been in servitude for thousands of years," he was saying. "Maybe even longer than that. Kia owns Evian; Evian's her personal property. She said that Marlana Carter was nicer to her slaves, but who knows?"

He frowned. "A slave is a fucking slave, right?" he said. "I'm sure they have their own ideas about what's good and bad treatment. You wouldn't believe how that bitch treated Evian."

Sonia was shaking her head furiously, thinking about Marlana Carter. "Hold on," she said. "Just hold the phone a moment. Marlana said—"

"Stop it!" David thundered. "Listen to me! These people have the strangest abilities. Something to do with electricity. Kia could do all kinds of magical shit, even Evian has some type of strange power. Haven't you seen anything weird? I mean besides the melting cabinet?"

When Sonia didn't reply, David continued. "I'm not sure what else Evian can do, but she can apparently transport from place to place. I saw her do it. When Kia called her, the woman appeared from thin air. Then, Kia almost killed her with her bare fucking hands." David stared directly into her eyes. "Have you seen their hands Sonia?" he said. "How big they are?"

Sonia nodded. "But, why?" she asked. "Why would this...this Kia, try and kill her?"

She was trying to sound disbelieving, but was only getting more scared. She didn't really know the boy. All told, they had known each other for less than four hours. Sonia's lasting impression of him was David saving her from whatever tried to pull her off the speeding C train.

But, David was telling her the truth and she knew it. Even if the whole thing had been some kind of hoax, he believed what he had witnessed. That much was clear. She asked why Kia was trying to kill the woman to stall for time. Time to think.

"Because she spoke to me," David replied. "Because she told me things I wasn't supposed to know."

"Such as?" Sonia asked. Her defiant tone was losing its strength. "What did she say exactly?"

David glanced at the floor again. Sonia looked too, and could see the reflection of the chandelier high above them. The candles were flickering like tiny torches in the shiny black surface. He knocked lightly on the marble with his bare knuckles.

"She told me that you were still alive for one thing," he said. "She spoke of the Queen and Yarakki—"

He was tapping the floor lightly in a haphazard rhythm. The sound echoed in the chamber.

"Doctor Yarakki?" Sonia said. David stopped hitting the floor, glanced up, and saw her staring at him. She was looking surprised, and she was.

That was the man the giantess had mentioned to her. Sonia was supposed to meet him later. David appeared to realize that she recognized the name. "Yes," he said. "Evian told me about him." He shrugged. "And a few other things. I guess she told me too much. Kia certainly thought so." He used his knuckles again, turning away from her.

Sonia already believed David, but had still hoped Marlana Carter wasn't the Realmian he was talking about. Slaves? A dark cloud formed in her mind. She suddenly remembered some of the giant's words as they spoke on the balcony that day, now hearing them in an entirely new way.

She said Rat King had defended their "way of life." Now she understood why the woman was so upset over the Black Diamond, and whatever was wrong with it. She glanced at David, thinking she too had a few things to tell. "This Kia?" Sonia said. "What else did she say?"

"She said the Glints were basically dogs to them." David didn't look up. "Lower than dogs."

Sonia thought of Marlana Carter's use of the phrase my girl as in, "I'm going to get my girl to make you something to eat, Sonia. She'll bring it to you in a few minutes."

It seems the woman's girl was really her slave. And suddenly she recalled how quickly she had become upset. Perhaps that cool, calm personality was only an act? Did some weird magic lurk beneath? Magic? It was crazy, but Marlana Carter had merely spoken and Sonia went into some kind of trance.

"What is Evian like?" Sonia asked. "This so-called slave?" She couldn't seem to drop the act. She really wanted to, she felt childish and stubborn, like a person denying true talent or beauty when they witnessed it (Sonia called them the true haters, of which there suddenly seemed to be a plague in America), but simply couldn't seem to do it. The very concept of slavery made Sonia sick.

"She's sweet," David said. "I think you'll like her." He stared at the floor. "But, I'm afraid that Kia's going to kill her. She tortured her right in front of me!"

"She didn't fight back at all?" she asked.

"Fight back?" he said, "she's only four-feet tall. Kia is over fourteen feet! And huge, not just tall. She humiliated her," he whispered. "Spit on her, beat her, choked her. Even ripped out her fucking eye! When Kia made Evian lick her boots I felt so fucking helpless!"

Sonia could see the woman she'd spoken to clearly in her mind. Marlana Carter. She could see her menacing jet black eyes with black irises, and it wasn't difficult to imagine her acting in a similar fashion.

According to David, the impossibly tall woman, with the ridiculously sexy body, the one Sonia had befriended so easily, was actually engaged in the practice of slavery!

THE END?

COMING SOON: BLACK*HONEY 4

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS NOVEL. FEEL FREE TO CRITIQUE IT.

