The Dream Walker

1

Abby stood among thousands of knives stretching as far as the eye could see. Some of the blades were broken, while others were intact. The bright light glinting off the metal was almost blinding, and he squinted as he took in the scene, knowing he should leave, but curiosity got the best of him.

What was this?

For someone who seemed as happy as Abby, he would expect her dreams to be filled with unicorns, kittens, and giggles. But knives? He had to check it out—to see what would happen next—so he remained in the shadows, just outside of the bright light.

What do you have going on here, Abby? he whispered.

She grasped a long, shiny silver knife in her right hand, her flowing yellow dress reflecting off the blade. Staring straight ahead, her auburn hair hung to her shoulders, her pretty face showing no emotion. Nico detected a faint smell in the air, one he recognized but couldn’t quite place. She stood there for a long time, simply holding the long knife as if she was preparing for battle.

Suddenly, there was a disturbance in front of Abby. It danced and swirled, almost as if someone had lit a fire, and smoke drifted up from the ground. After a moment, it became a form, and Noah shimmered to life in the dream, wearing all black and staring at Abby. He also held a knife and didn’t look friendly. Abby’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step back. She didn’t seem afraid, but more uncertain. They stared at each other for a long while, neither of them moving a muscle. It reminded Nico of an old-fashioned Wild West gunfight where the two gunslingers stood still until one of them flinched, and then they shot the shit out of each other.

Nico waited, holding his breath to see what would happen. Anxiety ripped through him. Abruptly, the dreamscape starting spinning, signaling Abby was about to wake up.

He bolted upright, his room dark except for the silver glow of his eyes.

He never should have dream-walked.

2

Nico jogged through the desert. The temperature gauge read ninety-nine when he had left the silo, and he was sweating profusely.

He needed to get out of the silo for a bit, and wanted to do so alone. Jogging in the desert in the middle of summer pretty much guaranteed that.

Having been up most of the night with a good case of insomnia, he was tired, but he pressed on. He thought of the absurdity: a Dream Walker with insomnia. It was so ha-ha not funny.

Guilt ate at him. He had made a promise to himself and to the Six Saviors he wouldn’t use his ability of dream-walking on them. He earned their trust, and as an outcast his whole life, he finally found a place where he belonged, something he never had with his family. But last night he had been a bit desperate. Although he stood at six foot five and weighed in at two hundred and thirty pounds, when insomnia struck, he felt as lonely and as vulnerable as a child. And like said child, he wanted to connect with someone—anyone—to squash the feelings.

He should have just sat there in his boxers and stared at the TV until CNN bored him to into sleep. There were plenty of lonely people in the world who were big boys and girls and just dealt with the feeling. They didn’t have the ability to dream-walk. They sat up at night by themselves, the insomnia their companion. He should have been like them and just forgot his ability.

But he hadn’t.

He’d broken the trust, and gone dream-walking last night.

He had lay down and closed his eyes, focusing on putting himself in a light trance. Having never really honed his ability, it was a crapshoot on whose dreamscape he ended up in.

Concentrating on Jovan, Nico found his dreamland after a few tries, but immediately backed out. Of course, Jovan was dreaming about sex. No surprise there, and Nico certainly didn’t need to see that.

Next, he stumbled onto Blake, the half-breed Colonist. The poor bastard was dreaming of Annis telling him that she loved him. Blake really needed to get over her because this was just pathetic. Nico almost felt sorry for him, but not quite.

He tried to find Rayner, but had no luck. However, he tripped onto the dreamscape of Noah’s mate, Abby.

He thought about the symbolism of her dream and what it meant.

Knives in a dreamscape had many meanings: the fact she was standing among the knives represented that she was trying to make a difficult decision. Some were broken, which indicated that she was confused, but she knew anger was not the answer to solving her problems.

The fact she carried a knife led Nico to believe she was angry and felt the need to be more divisive, which was a direct contradiction to his previous hypothesis. So, Abby was angry, but knew she shouldn’t be. That had to be it.

Her yellow dress was interesting. If it had been a pleasant dream, the yellow would have signified things like happiness and harmony. But the knives didn’t bode well for a nice dream, and the yellow only reaffirmed that she was fearful or unable to make a decision.

The bright light indicated she was looking for clarity on a situation.

Noah emerging in her dream with a knife symbolized his dominance over her in her waking life. Was Noah what she needed clarity on?

Guilt ate at him. He never should have invaded her most private space. Whatever she had going in, he shouldn’t be privy to it, and he once again cursed himself and his damn ability.

He remembered the first time his parents had discovered his rare skill when he was a young child.

Upon waking, he had ran to his mother and told her every detail of the dream she had the previous night. Nico still remembered the dream in great detail: his mother’s smoky light blue form whispered through the trees of the forests on SR44, almost as if she were a snake. She slithered along the forest floor, then twirled her way up to the top of the trees, bursting out of the foliage into the night sky.

"You wish to return to the forest, moha," he had said excitedly in their native language. The ability to interpret the dream seemed natural and came with ease, as if all of a sudden he realized he knew another language fluently.

His mother had been a Forest Dweller on SR44, but she had left to mate Nico’s father, a high-ranking military figure in the city. She was very superstitious and spiritual, and the fact that her son had an ability only heard of in folk legends just about sent her over the edge. And as it had turned out, she did want to head back to the forest, because a year later she’d left her family to do just that.

From the moment his mother found out about his ability, he had been an outcast in his family. His parents actually built a small shelter outside of their home where Nico slept. Word traveled quickly about Nico’s dream-walking, his mother telling anyone who would listen of her fears of her son and how he possessed the skills of the Inakra, which was the equivalent of the devil, in human terms.

As a child, Nico didn’t understand his mother’s turn of affection on him. The pain at her banishment still ripped through him when he thought of his childhood, an open wound on his soul that might scab over, but never fully scarred.

Once his moha had left, his father turned the blame on Nico. According to his father, it was Nico’s dream-walking ability that sent his lovren back to the forests. As Nico looked back on it, his moha had most likely wanted to get away from his father’s strict military ways, and Nico’s ability offered her the excuse. His father made sure everyone knew it was Nico’s fault his lovren had left. It was as if his parents pinned their own faults and mistakes on him.

From then on, he’d been hesitant to use his ability, but he did every now and then to quell the loneliness.

He stopped and put his hands on his knees, breathing hard, and wondered what decision Abby had to make.

3

So tell me all about this dream-walker stuff, Nico, Noah said as he leaned back in his leather chair.

Nico sighed. It had been six months since he was taken in by the Six Saviors, and no one had brought up his so-called gift of dream-walking. He just assumed they all trusted him to stay out of their dreams, but apparently not.

And they shouldn’t, but he needed to convince them otherwise.

Noah, I don’t like to dream-walk, and I would never use it on anyone here in the silo. You have my word.

He hated lying, but didn’t think the truth would go over very well. Jesus, with this lying stuff down, he should think about becoming a politician. It wasn’t as if he dream-walked all the time. In fact, he’d only done it once on his own since he moved in.

Noah nodded, a serious expression clouding his face. Nico tried to remember the last time he’d seen Noah smile, but couldn’t. I know you wouldn’t use it on us, Nico. I’m thinking maybe we can use it as a weapon against the Colonists and their lovely children.

Nico sat up, surprised. He ran his hand through his hair as guilt ate at his gut. He liked that Noah trusted him, and hated that he shouldn’t. He made a vow to himself to not dream-walk on any one of the Saviors or their mates again. If he had to do a Tambaran and stab himself in the gut like Cohen did, he would.

Throughout his life, he was marked with a scarlet X, so to speak, and people avoided him as word of his ability spread. No one wanted to be around someone who could invade the personal space of dreams. He was a loner, excommunicated from his family, from his people, and wanting nothing more than to belong.

That was why it was critical to him that Noah and the rest of the Saviors, their mates, and that half-breed Blake knew that he could be trusted to not invade their dreams. He finally felt he had landed in a place where he belonged—a place where he was accepted. He didn’t want to do anything to break the trust the others had in him. Well, he wouldn’t do it again.

However, he was also intrigued by Noah’s line of thinking.

He never considered using his dream-walking ability as a weapon on a sleeping Colonist. Interesting, he said to Noah, trying to wrap his mind around the shift in thinking. From a pariah to a badass weapon . . . definitely thought-provoking.

So, how does it work? What do you need to do? Noah asked.

Nico studied the white screen hanging from the wall and glanced over at the bank of computers in the corner, trying to get his thoughts in order.

Use dream-walking as a weapon.

Huh.

He crossed his arms over his chest. I’m not sure how to explain it. I just have the ability to leave my body and travel into another person’s dreamscape.

Noah leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table in front of him. Do you need to be asleep? he asked.

Nico shook his head. No. I can do it when I’m asleep, or I can put myself in a light trance.

And how hard is it to get into that trance?

Nico shrugged, remembering the other night when he skipped in on Abby’s dream.

Pretty easy, I guess, Nico said. I just need to focus and relax.

Noah smiled. Excellent. I want you to practice getting in and out of that trance at the word go.

Nico nodded.

Now tell me about dream-walking. Can you interact with the person in the dream? Or do you just observe?

Nico thought back to when he had dropped in on Cohen’s dream many months ago. Cohen had been dreaming of Annis, and his dead mate, Mia, who he had lost when SR44 exploded. Nico had studied the dream, the symbolism in it, and come to the conclusion that Cohen loved Annis but was bound by an oath, a Tambaran, to his dead mate, Mia. The second time, Cohen invited Nico to invade his dreamscape so that he could understand what Mia was saying to him. Nico had done as asked, and translated to Cohen what the visions meant. Mia had wanted Cohen to let go of the oath he had made to her, and now Cohen and Annis were together.

I can do both. I can just observe, or I can interact with the dreamer if they are present in the dream. But I do have to admit, Noah, I’m rusty. It’s not something I practice. I actually like to forget I have the ability and live like a normal male.

Man, were his pants on fire . . . liar, liar.

Noah nodded again. I get it, Nico. I know you and I have talked about your crappy childhood and parents. But it’s time to change that way of thinking. Now, can you make them do things? Like kill themselves?

Nico could see where Noah was going with the line of questioning. If Nico could drop in on a Colonist’s dream and tell him to kill himself, it would be a lot less dangerous for the Saviors, and there would be no blood on their hands. No, I can’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to do, but I’ve heard stories of Dream Walkers from the past visiting dreams so frequently, it literally drove the dreamers crazy.

Is there a certain distance or circumference you need to be in? Do you need to be close, or can you be thousands of miles away? Noah asked.

Nico could practically hear Noah’s gears churning. It had never occurred to Nico to use his ability in this way, and he had to admit it was a little exciting to think about becoming a secret weapon for the Saviors, especially since he was shunned his whole life for this so-called gift.

I do have to be close, Noah. I could dream-walk on anyone in this silo, but I can’t dream-walk on Jerry down at the bar. Nico was referring to the side-of-the-road bar down the highway about a mile the Saviors liked to visit every now and then.

Okay, then, Noah said, clasping his hands together. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to go check into a hotel. I’ll have Abby make some reservations for you at a nice one. I want you to practice dream-walking on the other people staying in that hotel until the rust falls off and your ability is all shiny and new. You can dream-walk on humans, right?

Nico shrugged. I don’t know. I’ve never done it.

Well, let’s try the hotel thing. I’ll send Jovan and Rayner with you. They just got back from the East Coast and could use a few days of R&R. I’m sure they’ll want to bring Liberty and Faith as well, if that’s okay.

Of course, Nico said.

Noah stood and stretched his arms above his head. I’ve got to admit, I’m excited by this, Nico. Just think . . . we’ll be able to get inside the heads of some of these assholes.

Nico stood. It will be interesting, that’s for sure.

4

The next day, Nico followed Rayner, Faith, Jovan, and Liberty into the lobby of the Wigwam Resort and Hotel in Litchfield Park, Arizona. The four-star hotel and resort was fairly close to the silo. As the silo was out in the middle of the desert, their choices were limited, and Jovan didn’t want to drive very far. As he put it, he’d driven up and down the Eastern Seaboard fifty-five times chasing a lead, and he was done with cars for a while.

Their combat boots clomped on the hardwood planks, and a fire crackled in the old stone fireplace. Oversized leather couches surrounded the fire, and black-and-white photos of old Litchfield Park decorated the walls.

They checked in and were directed to their rooms. Back in the Hummer, they drove around the property. Lush green lawns and thousands upon thousands of roses lined the drive.

Nice place, Nico said.

Oh yeah, Rayner said. Only the best for the Dream Walker.

When they pulled in front of their building, Nico noticed there were four rooms in the building—two on the top floor and two on the bottom.

He didn’t like being in such close proximity to the others. He got out of the car and gazed around, not seeing many people milling about. What if Jovan, Liberty, Rayner, and Faith were the only ones around? He wasn’t going to get much practice, as he refused to dream-walk in their dreams. It was a matter of him honoring his respect for them. And besides that, he really was rusty. It had been a fluke when he dropped in on Abby the other night. He’d been aiming for Cohen. What if he accidently dropped in on Rayner, Jovan, Faith or Liberty?

I think I’m going to request a room on the other side of the property, Nico said to them as they walked up the pathway to the building.

All four turned around and looked at him.

I need practice, and I don’t want to visit any of your dreams, he said.

Rayner nodded. I appreciate that, man.

Jovan nodded. Me too. But I can guarantee you my dreams are far more interesting than anything Rayner can come up with.

Doubtful, Rayner said. You’ve got the imagination of a dead tree root.

I really don’t care who is more creative, and I’m not about to dream-walk to find out, Nico said with a laugh. I’ll walk back to the front desk and I’ll text you when I get my room number.

Sounds good, Jovan said.

Do you want to meet us for dinner later, Nico? Liberty asked.

Nico thought about that. He really wanted to get down to work and hone his skill, but he also needed to fuel up, as dream-walking did require a lot of energy. Yeah, probably. I’ll let you know for sure.

He picked up his suitcase and walked back toward the lobby, happy it wasn’t summer. It would be in a few short months, and the temperatures would hover in the triple digits for approximately one hundred and twenty days, give or take a few. April in Arizona was a perfect seventy degrees, and he enjoyed the walk as he took in the beauty of the property. The bees buzzed lazily on the rose petals as the maintenance crews pruned, mowed, and fixed sprinkler heads. He imagined it was a never-ending job keeping up with the sprawling splendor of the jewel in the middle of the desert.

He requested a new room on the other side of the property, no questions asked. Climbing the stairs to his room, he nodded at his neighbor, a man in his mid-forties, who was just leaving.

Perfect. He had a target, and maybe the man had a wife he could practice on as well.

Opening the door to his room, he was greeted with southwest luxury and comfort. The large bed was covered in plush white bedding and big, inviting pillows. He threw his bag down on the couch and noted the big flat screen television on the wall above the brick gas fireplace.

He walked into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair had grown out, and oddly enough, was getting a little darker. His black eyes would turn silver when the sun went down, and because of that, Blake had been given him the nickname Spiderman.

After using the toilet, he went back into the living space and fell backward on the bed. Closing his eyes, he realized that he was happy to be alone for a while.