Brooding City: Brooding City Series Book 1 (11 page)

“Hello, Jeremy,” said an old, kind, and familiar voice. It was Benjamin. The man made himself visible as he stepped out from behind a hardy shrub with prickly leaves. “It is good to see you again.”

“I’m supposed to be sleeping…is it still considered rest if we’re doing, well, this?” Jeremy asked. He glanced around the garden, but it seemed that they were alone. “What am I doing here?”

“I brought you here.”

“You can do that?”

Old Ben smiled. “There are many things of which you are not yet aware. This is but one skill you will learn…in time. For today, we will start small.”

“Today?”

The plants fell away into the ground, suddenly being replaced by solid brick walls and a large plot of sand, dotted here and there by wide rocks. Old Ben took a few steps forward and looked at the room appraisingly, apparently unhindered by his lack of sight. “A Zen garden…hmm. Not what I would have expected.”

“Wh-what is this place?” Jeremy asked.

“You do not recognize your own mind? This is most unfortunate.” Benjamin sat directly on the sand with his legs crossed under him. “No time like the present, as they say. Jeremy, tell me everything you know about Sleepers.”

“I don’t understand…”

“I
do
have all night, but I would rather that we moved along quickly,” the old man said somewhat shortly. “Tell me what you already know about Sleepers.”

Jeremy sat as well and scratched his nose as he thought. “You…enter people’s dreams and make them go crazy?”

Old Ben gave no reaction. “Go on.”

“You’re kind of on the same level as Bigfoot and Nessie, in terms of actually existing. Now I know better, but a few days ago, I was in the same camp as everyone else. I didn’t think Sleepers were real.”

“Hmm.” He sounded disappointed. “And what do you suppose this place represents?”

“My…mind?”

“Yes and no. This is your Sleeperscape. Every Sleeper has a dwelling such as this somewhere in their minds. It is a place of retreat, of safety, and also the source of our legendary power.”

“I don’t understand.”

Old Ben gestured to a nearby rock. “This boulder represents the mind of someone in Odols, and particularly one whom you have met.” He glanced at the brick walls and grimaced. “But you have lived a sheltered life, one with barriers that prevent you from experiencing much of what this world has to offer. Thus, your Sleeperscape is small and secluded. You have few nodes through which to access others’ minds.”

All of this information was almost too much for Jeremy, but his brain raced to keep up. “What happens if I touch one of the rocks?” he asked hesitantly.

Benjamin’s lips spread in a crinkly smile. “Finally, a question worth asking, and deserving of an answer. Why not find out for yourself?”

Jeremy stared at the nearest rock. It was smaller than a lot of the others in the room, with smooth, rounded edges. He reached out to it across the sand, but his hand hesitated just above the surface. “It won’t hurt, will it?”

Benjamin solemnly shook his head.

And Jeremy touched the rock.

His brain was flooded with a swirling torrent of images before he found himself sitting in an almost familiar place. Soft dirt and sand molded between his fingers as he pressed his hand against the ground. Placid, black water filled a shallow pool surrounded by soaring black walnuts. Chirping laughter drew Jeremy’s attention to the side.

Ellie came running in from the forest. Two large, red-furred squirrels followed closely on her heels. She giggled as one of them leapt onto her pant leg and scurried its way up onto her shoulder, and they fell in a heap just a few yards away from Jeremy. She didn’t seem to have noticed him.

This must be what Ellie dreams about,
Jeremy realized.

She stood and raised a hand high over her head, and the squirrels abruptly fell still and watched her with small, beady eyes.

Jeremy wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing. He’d witnessed Ellie interacting with the valley animals before, but never to such an intimate extent. When had she had time to tame them to that extent? He knew this was only a dream, but it was so starkly reminiscent of her daytime behavior that he wondered how much of it was based in reality.

“Wow, that’s awesome,” Jeremy murmured.

Ellie whipped around and stared intensely at where he sat. Her eyes scrunched a bit at the corners. “Jeremy? Is that you?”

He waved, and her eyes lightened. “Hey, Ellie.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I just…” His voice trailed off. How would he explain his presence in her dream? “Uh, Mom sent me to bring you in for dinner.”

“Oh.” She looked down at the squirrels, but they’d scattered back into the trees. Her face fell when she saw the empty patch of grass. “I guess I’ll get headed back…” She turned back to Jeremy. “But how did you find—?”

A curtain of black fell over the landscape, and Jeremy was knocked back into his sand garden. Benjamin sat absolutely still, not having moved an inch.

“It all just went away!” Jeremy said. “How do I get back in?” He placed his hand against the rock, but it was cold and unyielding.

“They are awake, I imagine,” Old Ben said. “May I ask whose mind you entered?”

“It was my sister.”

“Intriguing. And what did you learn?”

Jeremy laughed. “That I’m not very good at being a Sleeper. She woke up almost immediately after I arrived.”

A bemused smirk crossed Old Ben’s lips. “Subtle immersion is a learned skill. Given time, your talents will improve. I once had a student who took
years
to become proficient in the art of seeing without being seen, being present without being noticeable. That you were able to enter the dream at all is a tremendous feat, though. Your future holds promise.”

Pride swelled in his chest, and Jeremy grinned like an idiot. “Thank you.”

Old Ben nodded. “Now, get some sleep.” Suddenly, the room was empty, but his voice lingered even as his body faded from view. “Until we meet again.”

Maddy was on
her death bed.

Brennan had arrived at the hospital in the early afternoon, but he could do little but wait helplessly as the doctors and nurses worked to stabilize his sister. He and Greg sat in stony silence as the night wore on. His nephew seemed strung out, worse than he had looked the last time they’d met, and Brennan knew he was going through Chamalla withdrawal. The timing couldn’t have been worse for the young man; he would want to escape reality now more than ever.

Before the clock struck eight, a doctor emerged from the operating room. His gloves were coated with blood. He threw them in the trash before removing his surgical mask. Greg blanched at the sight of his mother’s blood. He looked like he was going to be sick to his stomach. Brennan’s heart felt for the young man. He was struggling to cope with his sister’s sudden downturn, too.

It had seemed like just yesterday they were playing hide-and-seek.

“Doctor,” he said, shaking hands with the man in white. “How is she?”

“She’s stable, but still critical.” He led Brennan a little way away from Greg and spoke in a hushed whisper. “We had to drill holes to relieve some of the pressure in her skull. It has slowed the swelling, but—” The doctor hesitated, and Brennan felt his heart turn cold. “Your sister slipped into a coma shortly after surgery.”

Icy tendrils spread throughout his body. His hairs raised on end, and he felt his mind go numb. The doctor said something that he couldn’t hear, as if the words were drowned before they could reach him.

“What was that?” he asked. His voice betrayed him, and the doctor put a hand on his shoulder.

“I said that I would seriously recommend seeking professional help.”

“You’re a professional,” Brennan said. “That’s why we’re here. Help her, please.”

The doctor frowned and shook his head sadly. “Not help for her,” he said. “A grief counselor, for him.” He gestured with his eyes toward Greg, who was huddled on the floor with a vacant expression on his face.

It was a moment before the full impact of his words hit Brennan. “No,” he said. “Not again. Maddy is my sister, she’s all I have left!” His voice was a harsh whisper. His eyes, bloodshot and rimmed with tears, searched the doctor’s desperately. He kept his words low so that Greg wouldn’t overhear. “There must be something else you can try. Anything.”

“I’m afraid there is little more that we can do,” the doctor replied. He looked mournfully back at the operating room. “Even if this were a normal case, the chances of recovering from a coma diminish with each day that passes. In her condition, I’m not sure such a thing would even be possible.”

In her condition
. Brennan understood. Hell, he had even gone through it before. But knowledge and experience did nothing to soften the blow, to lessen the loss he felt. His sister was all he had left. And she was all Greg had
ever
had.

The mind was a fragile thing. Strong mental assaults could Fracture a mind, such as he had done to the Sleeper in the library. In Maddy’s case, it was the result of an overzealous use of Chamalla’s predecessor in the drug market. Her mind and body no longer connected properly. It was no great secret that Maddy’s life had been shortened after being Fractured; in many ways, she was already dead.

“Damn you,” Brennan growled. He didn’t know if he was cursing God, or the doctor, or even himself, but he knew that someone, somewhere, had hell to pay for this. He looked at Greg with the knowledge that his mother was on death’s door. There was no coming back from that.

The doctor patted his arm lightly and gave them a moment. Brennan walked over and joined his nephew on the floor. Greg continued to stare at the wall, disconnected, obviously trying to keep his emotions from overwhelming him. Only the occasional sniffling of his nose gave him away. Brennan waited patiently, knowing that no amount of words could console him if he wasn’t receptive to it. It was a while before Greg finally wiped a hand at his eyes and spoke.

“What did the doctor say?” he croaked.

Brennan chose his words carefully. “They operated on her,” he said, “and they managed to relieve some of the swelling in her brain. She’s stable now.”

“Do they know what happened?”

“He didn’t say. My guess is that her condition just got worse.”

“It’s treatable, though. She’s better since the surgery, right?” he asked hopefully. “When can we go see her?"

Guilt banged relentlessly against Brennan’s heart. Receiving the news—and accepting it—was the worst part of the grieving process. He had heard it years ago when Mara had been slipping away. His reaction had been less than stellar; in fact, he had tempted fate in his mad denial of the truth. Brennan wished he could be anywhere other than here, yet he knew this was exactly where he needed to be. With Greg, and with Maddy, until the end.

“Greg,” he started, “I don’t know any other way to say this but to give it to you straight. And I need you to listen to me when I say this, because it’s the truth. Do you understand?”

His nephew nodded slowly, his lower lip trembling. Brennan steeled himself. It was one thing to receive the news, to go through that kind of anguish; it was another thing entirely to be the messenger.

“Maddy was a kind and loving sister to me, even when we were little kids growing up. She always looked after me, and she always had time to play games on my schedule. And as we grew up, we stayed close—though now I wish I could have spent more time with her. Perhaps I could have kept her on the straight and narrow…” He broke off and chuckled at the absurdity of that thought. “Though the straight and narrow was never a path that interested your mother.”

Greg’s eyes were glossy with unrealized tears, but he still managed a weak smile.

“Anyway,” Brennan said with a sobering sniffle, “she soon became pregnant and had you. You could not have found a more glowing mother anywhere. She absolutely adored you, and you were the light of her life ever since that day. To hear her go on about you, your first steps, first words, first crush in school—it’s what eventually convinced your Aunt Mara and I to try and start a family of our own. You were everything to her.”

At those words, Greg broke down in unabashed sobs. Brennan pulled his nephew against him and let his shirt be darkened with tears as he cradled him under one arm. Not all of the tears were Greg’s.

“It would be an injustice to say she didn’t live a full life. She laughed, she lived, and she loved. There isn’t anything left here for her to do,” he said gently. “Now it’s our turn to honor her life, her legacy, and let her move on.”

Greg shook as he huddled against Brennan’s massive frame. His sobs racked his whole body, and they rose in volume as he poured out his grief. It was a deep release of emotion, and Brennan knew that his nephew understood that his mother’s body couldn’t stay plugged into the machines any longer. Brennan grieved, but he found that most of his grief was transformed into sympathy for his nephew, who would not soon forget the pain he now felt.

“Greg,” Brennan said after a long while. It was deep into the night when he spoke. “Do you want to say goodbye?”

His nephew looked up wordlessly and nodded.

They entered the hospital room where Maddy Warner was still hooked up to a machine. It was a dark room, empty of anyone but the two of them. Greg went and took his mother’s hands between his own. Brennan watched fresh tears roll down his nephew’s cheeks as he spoke quietly, his last words to her a secret soliloquy. Some time passed, and the boy finally let go of her hands. She was a pale and silent statue, and Brennan took a moment to remember her as she had been, a smiling little girl playing with her brother.

A single tear escaped and slipped down along Brennan’s jaw as Greg returned to him by the door. He said one final farewell to his sister, and uncle and nephew alike were reluctant to leave the room. Finally, they departed in silence, leaving Maddy’s spirit to find its way.