A Fateful Choice

I watched as he left the clearing, wary of any change of heart he or those wolves might have. He almost pranced on the way out, returning to that affected craziness that he normally exhibited. He made a strange clucking sound a couple of times as he slipped into the shadows, which seemed to be a signal to circling wolves. They melted into the deeper shadows beyond the clearing without a sound.

I was left standing there in the clearing I had met John so many times before. This was the place that he had taught me to come to, where I had learned what few lessons I have been able to master of this Spirit Walking.

Why hadn’t John or any of my other friends responded to the Call I had sent out?

Were any of them even still alive at this point?

Why did I have to go seeking answers on my own?

Would the others even believe in my innocence?

How could Drake always know where I was and how I would react, even before I did?

What the Hell was his agenda anyway?

Why does he seem to want me back in his control so badly?

Do I even know if he hasn’t been controlling me in some unknown way up until now?

These questions and dozens of others rattled around inside my mind as I tried to make sense of everything that had happened recently. It all boiled down to some simple choices, and I felt I needed to make the options clear in my head to make the best decision possible. So, either my friends were either already dead, or the were alive but still in grave danger.

If they were still alive and I refused to follow El Diablito’s instructions, I would definitely be placing them in grave danger if I remained in police custody, unable to help them when they did get attacked. If I followed those instructions and went with Drake’s plan, I would have no real way of knowing whether my friends were harmed, and had no real assurances that they would be left alone in any event.

It was pretty damn clear that I lacked any real, actionable intelligence on Drake and his motives, but Drake seemed to have plenty of knowledge about the ORCs, and clearly had the resources, the will and the ability to attack almost at will. The ORCs were too scattered, and individually too weak to hold off an assault by Papa Locks and that monster they had made out of Greg’s body. If El Diablito was involved in the finishing of that thing, then it was pretty certain that it would be immune to just about any magick that Herne, Cerrydwen, or even Ravyn could throw at that thing. Physically, I would be the only one to have any chance of holding my own against it, especially since the ORCs wouldn’t resort to things like RPG’s and explosives, even if they could get them.

If I played along with Drake and his crew for a while, I might be able to gather some much needed intelligence, and perhaps even find a way to disable or destroy that monster before it was unleashed on anyone else. But how much would Drake think to trust me, especially after his little fail safe device failed so miserably?

So my choices looked pretty grim. So many of these folks had gathered together in Vegas to try and help me out, and now at least eight of them were dead. The rest were surely in danger, although the danger was absolutely certain if I continued to resist Drake and his ‘final offer’. Well, they were probably already in almost as much danger right now, even if I did cooperate, but there was at least a chance that they would be left alone if I wasn’t with them.

I am what Drake wants so badly.

Well, you know what they say, sometimes you need to be very damn careful what you wish for, you might just get more than you bargained for. Dammit, it’s time to make that bastard pay, not only for what he had done to me, but to the other officers on the team, especially Greg, and for what he has done to those poor innocents who died in that suite.

It was at that moment, that I decided, I was going to go to Drake, and he was gonna be made to pay the piper. I needed to take that bastard out and find a way to destroy the creature that Papa Locks was dragging around, and ideally to make that Haitian bastard pay for what he did to John Red Bear.

It meant that I was going to have to be prepared to kill. But that wasn’t going to be a problem any more.

I looked to where I had dropped the baton. I went over to it, picked it up and held it, remembering the time I had picked up John’s pouch beside his truck. In this world, charging an item with that kind of spiritual energy should be easier, and the others were far more skilled at the use of their talents than I was then. I focused my thoughts, my emotions, my fears for their safety and channelled everything I could right into that cold, metal weapon that was so much my signature now. Before long, I felt the crackling energy contained in it. I grasped it in both hands, and plunged it into the soft earth of the clearing, until a good several inches of it were embedded in the earth. It might have been my imagination, but I thought I felt a flicker of electrical energy erupt from the end of the baton that was standing upright.

I stood back up and turned and walked back out of the clearing, heading back to the my own entry way back into the realm of the living, feeling even more than ever before a stranger in a strange land.

As my Spirit Body collapsed and I made my way back up into the tunnel that ended in the bright lights of that interrogation room, I could make out the shadowy forms of a couple of others in the room with my body. I slipped up from the drain in the floor and observed for a second the men trying to talk to my unresponsive body.

Like hearing voices shrouded by being underwater, I listened to the garbled words of the unifromed figure who was touching my body on the shoulder, shouting, “Hey buddy, wake up! It’s time for you go!” He then looked to the other figure in the room, a tall, thin man in a dark suit, and said, “I don’t know whats wrong with him, sir, maybe its the drugs.”

The Suit seemed to be unperturbed, and looked right at my drifting spirit without expression, “There’s no rush Sergeant, I am sure he will come to any moment now.”

So the asshole has some knowledge or talent, I thought, as I slid back into my body and made connection with all of the little gizmos that eneabled my to move.

With a start the Sergeant jumped back as I closed my hands into fists, and tilted my head, and said “Boo!” right in his face.

“Son of a fucking bitch...!”

I smiled. “You called?”

He kept his distance, still cursing.

I looked at the Suit “So, are we going somewhere?”

The Suit looked over to the Sergeant without comment towards me, “Unlock his cuffs and his leg shackles. He’ll be going with me.”

The Sergeant looked aghast, “Sir, are you sure you want that thing freed? You should have seen what it did in that suite!”

The Suit looked nonplussed, “Release him. He’s not a threat, he was trying to save those people. He’s a special agent too. Now, Sergeant, I don’t have all fucking night for your games!”

The Sergeant seemed to find his spine at that last bit. He began fumbling with his key chain.

Smiling right at the bumbling cop, I reached my arms out towards him and snapped the chain connecting the cuffs with little effort. I stretched my legs quickly, snapping first the hook embedded in the floor, and then the chain connecting the ankle cuffs together.

His mouth agape, the Sergeant dropped the keys he had been fumbling with, they landed with a loud chink!

I leaned over, scooped up the keys and quickly unlocked first my ankle cuffs and then each of the cuffs dangling from my wrists. Each piece fell to the floor with another loud clink!

The Suit stood there, unimpressed, waiting for the show to end.

I looked up at him, “Alright then, let’s get out of here.” I handed the key chain to the stuttering Sergeant on my way out the door. “Let’s go find the real killer, shall we?”

“Indeed.”