What Dreams Are Made Of

"Over the hill by the river."
Lou is whispering... it is dark with the exception of a mist of quarter moonlight filtering down. I smell the forest, but it is wet and cold and rotting. There is something else... a stench that is brought in on a damp breeze from some far way place mixed with smoke from some distant fire.

"Five of them."
"So?"
"You take the two on the right, I'll take the three on the left."
I am all question and no action.
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
He slides a broad sword from a scabbard. The metal shines dull in the moonlight. He is up and starts over the rise.
"Hey... wait." I whisper after him, but it is too late. I reach to my side, surprised to find the same weapon. Across my chest is another scabbard that holds a dagger. I scramble after him.

Over the rise and next to a small brook are the five men. They are not like Orlis' Keene's men. These men are dressed in much more ancient garb. That is when I see Lou, who is a good eight yards ahead of me, leap into the firelight... sure that I am at his back. I am not.

The men are quick to react, all of them with weapon in hand in the blink of an eye. Lou heaves his sword in a broad arc and slices the man nearest to him nearly in two. It is way too ambitious a move when facing four other men.

I run as fast as my feet will carry me and plunge my blade into the nearest man. Because of the way they are grouped I manage to stick two of them... like martini olives on a toothpick. To my surprise this does not kill them, and as I withdraw the blade I cringe for them. I can hear the sound over the action of the battle, their breaths draw in, the meat releasing the metal as I pull it out.

There is a cry of pain. It is my own. One of these men has taken their dagger and stabbed me with it just above my collar bone. I pull my own dagger and shove it into his gullet up to the handle, then I twist it as I withdraw. He drops to his knees, but his friend is on me, the wound I gave him flowing crimson in the moonlight. He swipes one way, then the next, his sword cutting through the air with the sound of angry hornets.

I watch as a blade appears from his chest and extends toward me, then pulls back. He falls and I watch as Lou takes on another man. I join him and swing wildly, hacking arms and legs. Before long we are standing alone, the five of them writhing on the ground in the throws of death.

"Oh... SHIT, oh shit. You would think I would be used to it by now."
"What is that, Nancy?"
"Killing people."

Lou puts his fingers to his lips, then changes his grip on the broadsword. He creeps over to the bushes alongside the brook and reaches in. With a yank he hauls out two people in his grip. They look familiar... and they are eating ice cream cones.

"Andy? Mike? What are you guys... "

"JAKE... JAKE PULL UP... "

Immediately the view changes around me and I am looking at jungle... well, the ground specifically, spinning slowly and closing in at about two thousand feet. We seem to be in a dive. Lou is pulling back on the wheel.
"PULL US OUT OF THIS GODDAMNIT."

I pull back as well and we give it full right rudder to boot. The spinning slows and as we both pull back it stops altogether and we begin to level out.
"What... the FUCK, Jake?"
"What happened?"
"Well I don't know, I was sleeping. Usually only one of us sleeps at a time."

We gain a little altitude, check time and distance. It takes a while before we fly over a landmark that we can place. After an hour or so on the correct heading we pass over Patzcuaro Lake.
"Mascoala is about a hundred and fifty miles ahead of us." Lou puts two fingers on the map, holding position over both places.

"Want a something to eat?" Lou reaches into the box Babe had prepared and pulls up a wax paper wrapped chicken salad sandwich. I nod and we eat. The fatigue that put us out is gone and we augment that with a couple of pulls off of the super apple juice.

After we have eaten, Lou shakes his head and smiles.
"So what the fuck were you dreaming about?"
"You... and me, killing a bunch of people at a river."
"When we killed Orlis and the boys?"
"No... this was different, midevil times, something like that."
"That is what you dream of? Man, I was in the middle of a beach, Sea of Cortez I think. Bronzed beauties all around, sweet cheeks moving as they walked by in the sand. I got one of them to stop and she was showing me her tattoo, then we started into that dive and I woke up."

"Sorry, Lou. If it is any consellation you kicked some serious ass."
"I would have rather slapped some serious ass."

Before long we see the expanse of Guadalahara over the mountains off to the west. It is just like Jerry to pick a place like Mascoala, smaller and less conspicuous.
"You know there aren't any airports or landing fields on this chart." Lou holds it up to show me.
"That's odd."

We see the city of Mascoala ahead of us. In a matter of minutes we over-fly the small expanse and have to circle around to see what is what. There is no airport, airfield, or even a road that would take a plane the size of Abigail. We, on the other hand, have several options. But it is Lou that makes the discovery.

"There, the tracks... they are wide enough to have been made by Abigail." He points out of his side window and we bank so I can see as well. It is a set of tracks in a field just outside of town. It is one of the only fields that hasn't been tilled up, so the ground is uniform and mostly flat.

We fly low and make a pass over the tracks in the field. Two become three where the tail wheel finally drops. The path leads up toward an old barn, beyond which are parked several trucks... including what looks to be a fuel truck.
"Well, that looks like the spot they touched down." I turn Naomi around in a long arc and line up on the tracks.

We drop the gear and touch down half way into the tracks that Abigail left and then taxi up toward the barn. Once Naomi's engines are silenced we wait for a beat or two for someone to greet us, but no one appears. When we step out of the plane there is no sound but that of the wind and somewhere the bleat of a goat or a sheep nearby.

"Can't beat the hospitality." Lou leads off, walking toward the back of the barn where we saw the fuel truck.
"Hold up, Lou."
I hop back into Naomi and grab the two 9mms. With a move of the slides I see that they are both ready for action. No sense in going off half-cocked.

We tuck the pistols away and walk around the barn. There is a structure beyond that looks to be abandoned. Lou heads for the fuel truck and I take a quick look around the back of the barn.
"This truck is nearly full of fuel." Lou calls back as he slaps a hand on the side of the big tank on the flat bed.

I step up to the cab and open the door, "No key."
Lou gives me a shove, "Let me see."
He hops up and in onto the bare springs of the seat. He turns a knob on the dash and then feels around on the floor until he finds what he is looking for. The old truck engine churns and grinds until it starts... like waking a hibernating bear.
"There we go."

He puts it in gear and we drive around the barn toward Naomi. As we back into place I can see a couple of dust trails coming up from the end of the field where the tracks started.

"We have company."