path: root/unseen/Book 4/Sil and Dean/Sil and Dean in NO.txt

The city was quite, Sil pulled into the alley behind his house and killed the engine. What do we do with her?

Dean glanced at Katje and shrugged. Put her up here I guess. I'll figure something out. 

Sil nodded and rolled down the window to light a cigarette. How much time to we have.

Dean glanced at his watch. About two hours I think. you hungery?

sil contemplated what sort of person would be able to eat right now and then relutantly admitted that he was hungry. i could eat.

I'll get something. but Dean didn't move. Do you still know how to sail?

Sil coughed, choking on smoke. Sail? Jesus Dean.

I'm serious.

Sil shrugged. I guess so. I mean I was never all that great to begin with. 

Well, starting remembering what you know.

Where the fuck are we going to get a boat? 

There's one coming to get us.

What?

Well, technically it's coming to get me. But I think probably it's the safest  place for Katje at the moment. 

So what does that have to do  with me?

You're going to join us later.

Later? 

There's something I need you to do.

Okay

You need to retrieve someone from the Protectorate.

Sil spun his head around to facce Dean. Are you fucking crazy? There's no way I can go back up that river after today and there's no way anyone is going to want me to after this. 

It's not up the river.

What?

It's more complicated.

No shit.

You're going in by air.

Oh. Oh no I am not. I do not fly.

I know. Dean sighed. But you have to. Sil half turned to ash his cigarette out the window and felt a faint prick in his neck, he spun around what the... but Dean had already pulled out the needle and was putting the cap back on.

I'm sorry Sil, but  you have to do this. And I know you have to file so...

You're a real fucking asshole you know that, his  head lulled to side. Dean grabbed his head in his hand and slapped him lightly on the face. Remember Sil, remember how to sail goddamn it. Otherwise we're going to fucking die.








Sils, she's the single most valuablife and you left her just sitting there?

Look man, I don't have the regualr income, the well places friends, whatever the fuck else you have. I'm selling mayhaw jelly at the fucking market to get by at the moment, forgive me if i have more immediate concerns than looking after arbella.

Well now you do.

how do you mean?

My employer somehow or other put toww and two together and relized that you were, well who you were and that we were friends. which is why i'm here.

i'd already surmised it wasn't a friendly visti.

i take offense to that Sil. It is a friendly visit. and we're going to be seeing a whole lot more of each other, whether you like it or not.

Arbella?

Exactly.

So how does that fit with your employer?

He would like you to go back over the fence and extract someone.

Ectract? 

if it makes you feel any better the someone is actually painfully beautiful.

he wants me to go back over the fence. is he fucking deranged? do youu have any idea what they'll do to me if i get caught.

probably, but i'm not sure that's a huge concern of his

well it's a pretty big concern of mine.

i know, but trust me, he wouldn't send you if he didn't think you could do it.

well that's encouraging, some fucking demigod your work for thinks i can do it. christ i feel a lot better now. what's in it for me anyway?

you can stop picking fucking berries for a living.

i already know i can stop that, let's be specific shall we?

Name your price, is a direct quote.

How about this, i go get this person for him. For the rest of my life, no matter how much money i want, i call him and he get's it to me within 24 hours.

i'll run it by him, but i imagine there will be a limit to that even if he were to agree.

okay fine. any reasonable amount of money. i'm just tired of money dean, i want to make it go away. 

dean studied him for a minute. you want money to go away or you want to stop working?



The night wrapped a black blanket around them, broken only by an incandescent orange glow that seemed to breath and pulse on the horizen. From the highway the city looked like a distant volcano, belching out smoke and ash, a trickle of red-yellow magma marking the streets and avenues. The flames of burning buildings mingling with the tangerine light of sodium street lamps from roads not yet on fire, creating a smoldering lava of color that flowed around the dark, impenetrable cone of abandoned skyscrapers downtown. From afar it looked like a mysterious black void rising out the orange lava -- a living volcano with nearly a million inhabitants yet. Already the faint sulfuric smell of burnt rubber and ash infused the air. The light of the burning city was held low by a canopy of thick black smoke from the smoldering tires that Sil knew would mark the periphery of the skirmishes. It perched over the glow, suffocating the light, holding it low and blotting out the distant stars still somewhere up in the sky above. As the highway drew them near the lights began to flickering more distinctly, flames leaping off rooftops, streets lights glowed along the riverfront side of the city where the fighting rarely strayed. The buildings in the center grew more distinct, revealing that they too had faint strains of light -- the financial district where the currency traders were cleaning up and bagging their near worthless bills for tomorrow's endless trading runs. 

They rode in silence, the dog lay between them, head in Sil's lap. As they got closer Dean rolled down the window and the raw galvanic smell of burning rubber rushed in. Sil gestured toward the glove box and Dean opened it, pulling out several bandanas which they tied over their faces to keep from inhaling the heavy soot that was starting to rain down. Once inside the canopy of ash and smoke, Sil watched the rearview mirror as the stars faded and then disappeared. He slowed down, cut the headlights and turned off on an unmarked dirt track that led down into a Cypress glade. The dog sat up. Dean leaned his head out the window to study the great balls of Spanish Moss and basket spiderwebs hanging over the road. Sil parked the truck in a marshy, half-sunken pullout and they covered the truck with a camofage canopy Sil left stashed in the trees for the purpose. It was half a mile to the ferry dock, they walked in silence. only the faint padding of footfalls muffled by a chorus of frogs, crickets, cicadas and other remants of  night life singing from their dark niches of swamp. After a while the the trail forked off the rode proper and made its way through the Cypress grove on stilted planks that creaked and groaned as they moved. Sil lit the way with a dim flashlight that did little more show them how thick the ash was even under the canopy of trees. Finally he turned and handed it Dean, setting out with only the faint glow to guide him. Annie walked on ahead, without hesitating, toenails clicking on the wooden boards. After three quarters of a mile the trail cut up out of the mangroves and found the muddy banks where it moved through tall grass. Sil tried not the think about the afternoon's snakes, but he couldn't help walking faster through the grass, fairly running toward the faint lantern light of boatman's house in the distance.

The old man was sitting on the porch, bathed in the light that spilled out the window, cleaning mussel shells with an oily red cloth, when Dean and Sil walked down the drive. He stood and watched them approach, stepping off the porch with a sawed off shotgun rested in the crook of his elbow. His hair was matted and his white beard already turning black from the soot-filled air. 

Hallo.

Hallo. The old man spat, sizing up Dean in sidelong glances.

City's burning tonight Sil.

I know it. 

Kesper's people are making a move on some bankers.

What for?

The old man shrugged, traded with the wrong people I imagine.

NRP's out in force?

Sounds like it.

Well. Sil looked down at his shoes. We need to go down to the docks.

Not worth the trip.

Sil jerked his head in Dean's direction. The man wants a drink.

The boatman stared at Dean for a minute and shook his head. I got plenty of whiskey in the house. Here I'll fetch a glass, he started to turn.

Sil smiled. Thank you, but no. We need to get downtown.

The old man studied him, the lines around his eyes deepening like trenches as he squinted at Sil in the dull orb of light casting off the porch. After a while he began to slowly nod his head as if having come to conclusion. 

You're taking out Arbella then? 

Something like that.

You plan on coming back tonight?

Sil glanced at Dean, he was staring at the ground, making half circles with the polished toe of his shoe. No.

The old man mulled it over and then began to nod again. I'll go as far as Setter's place. He turned and spat again watching them both to see how it sat. It's gonna cost though.

Sil nodded. 

Dean fished in his pockets and pulled out some crumpled ameros and started to hand them to the boatman. Sil pushed his arm down. 

The boatman coughed. Thanks kid. I already got plenty of bum paper.

Sil stepped forward and put his arm around the old man, he could feel his shoulder blades like mountain ridges hidden beneath the soft flannel of his shirt. Sil walked him up the porch and into the house. You know where I park my truck?

The old man nodded.

Sil smiled, I thought you might. He fished in his pocket. Here's the keys. 

The old man craned his head around to look at him. 

Sil pressed the keys into his hand and folded the man's fingers over them before removing his arm. Where's that whiskey? We might need one for the road.

He shuffled into the kitchen and came back carrying three glasses and a cloudy, finger-smudged jar of brown liquor. They stepped outside onto the porch where Dean was leaning against the rail smoking a cigarette. 

You mind if I have one of those?

Dean reached in his pocket and handed the old man a cigarette. He turned it over in his hands, regarding it as though it were an ancient artifact. He put it in his mouth and lit it off Dean's offered lighter.

Sil sat in a chair and the old man in the other, Dean continued to lean against the rail, he and the old man puffing in silence. After a while the old man set his cigarette down and commenced to filling the glasses with whiskey.

So you're off to see Arbella?

If she's still there.

The old man nodded. She'll be there.

She better.

She will. He passed them the glasses and they all drank. And then what?

South.

South.

Yep.

The old man nodded. He took another drag of the cigarette. My daughter's over the fence somewhere you know. Dean and Sil said nothing. She went up for work. There's a lot of work up there I hear. All the work you could want. She came to visit me a couple years back. Said it wasn't so bad. 

So I hear.

Not so bad. 

Dean nodded. 

Sometimes I think about going up there.

Dean glanced at Sil. You really want to go up? 

The old man said nothing. 

Sil lit a cigarette. 

The old man said nothing more. They finished their cigarettes in silence, listening to the nightsongs of the swamp, the river, the distant city crackling with life and death.

After they were done the old man stood and went inside. He turned off the lights and shuffled back out, locking the front door behind him. They followed him down the rotting dock planks and climbed inside the boat. The old man cranked on the Chevy block several times before it caught and sputtered to life. Sil pushed off the dock, easing the stern out into the river where the ten foot pole extending out the engine could drop the propeller into the water. There was gurgling sound, like blood escaping a slit throat, and then the boat began to move forward, pulled downstream by the currents as the propeller gained momentum. The old man reached over and pushed the choke down before twisting the handle and the engine roared to life. They quickly picked up speed and slid downriver through a hail of soot and ash, toward the distant flames.




At Setter's wharf the old man killed the engine and clided up toward the wodden dock in silence, lettering the river carry them the last hundred meters, still several onlookers had gathered up near the gangplank and the seawall to see who was arriving at such an hour and perhaps suss out why.

they were hardly out of the boat when the old man shoved off and disappeared back up river. the sound of the engine faded sllowly until it was lost amid the churning gurgle of the river.



f

I though ameros were good on the black market? Bought my plane flight in with them.

Sil took a sip of beer. Ameros are fine if you're in town, or if you're rich enough to get out of town. But for most people Kesper's bills are much safer. Walk into most banks outside the city with an Amero and one of Kesper's people will make a note of it.

Dean nodded. Where's your friend fall.

Scratch? He's boatman, he doesn't fall. Sil glanced around the room, eyeing one of the girls standing to back, leaning against the stair rail. Most everybody down here is just trying to live Dean. The only people involved in lighting shit up are the one's working for Kesper. 

Kesper's days are numbered

All our days are numbered.

Well, some have fewer numbers.

You know which ones?

Dean smiled. 

Then what does it matter Dean?

You guys get rid of Kesper, so what? You know how many more Kesper's there are? I know there were big plans and all, but face it, it just won't work. There are just too many.