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NOTE: These stories are
intended for a mature audience.

Drownings
A Vorare story
By
Ivan Ewert
Start at the beginning of the Vorare series

The little road curved and twisted through the foothills, past stark yellow signs warning of rockslides and slippery pavement. "Left," said the Ally, and Gordon did as he was bidden, eyes flickering from the rear-view mirror to the hills alongside him. It was a habit he had not broken even after years in the flat lands of the Midwest, keeping a sharp eye on the condition of the road. He had learned to drive here in the hills, knew what could come from the weathered slopes of the world at night.

"Left again," whispered the Ally, and the instruction brought a strange smile to Gordon's face.

"How do you know ...?"

"I sense the ways of such wild places. You have followed me through forest and hill, when we had to keep from the roads, even before I arrived within your flesh - and in this way I know the land which surrounds us, though I have not been here before."

"Good." The thought that the Ally had marked him before they met had passed through his mind, had watched him as the Gentleman Ghouls had done, selecting him and monitoring him as he grew into a man. It wasn't a thought he enjoyed, any more than he liked the fact that the Ally now knew where his mother lived as surely as the Ghouls did.

Arriving at the lakeshore, Gordon killed the engine and headlights, blinking in the sudden darkness. Even after the past years in the wild places of the world, despite the apparent tastes of his Ally, he found it the simplest thing in the world to revert to what he had known as a mortal man, seeking the comfort of streetlights and suburban sound.

Here all was dark, the surrounding trees blocking even the stars; the only sounds those of sweet summer crickets and cicadas singing through the night. For a moment, he remained in the seat, until a quick pulse against his forearm reminded him how little time they might have.

"Get out of the car," instructed Gordon, and the dead man they had animated shifted its bulk onto the ground below. Gordon took a chain and padlock from the back of the truck and moved to the passenger's side of the pickup, then chained the two dead bodies together.

"You will need to lock them to something larger," said the Ally, "or both bodies will float to the surface one day."

"No, I've got a plan, I think." Gordon stepped out of the truck, motioning the homunculus to climb back in.

"Slide over here," he said, patting the driver's side of the truck, and the creature responded with that same passive fluidity, sliding into the driver's seat.

"Now," said Gordon, rolling up the window of the truck and holding the door open. "When I close this door, I want you to drive into the middle of that lake, then turn the car off, and then..." The words felt odd in his mouth, but he spoke them regardless. "And then die again."

"I do not know ..." The Ally began, as the engine roared to life.

"If you cannot die, then never move again. No matter who or what comes for you, never move again." Gordon shut the door and watched as the pickup slowly rolled into the water, vanishing from sight as though it had never existed.

"You go through vehicles quickly," said the Ally, and Gordon let out an explosive little laugh.

"Maybe you can clean bloodstains, but I don't know where they got that truck from. It could just as easily have been stolen as the one we drove down here, and I don't want to leave any kind of trail for the police if I can help it. I don't know how we've avoided them as long as we have."

"The Ghouls are to thank, in part," said the Ally simply. "They do not wish the police to become involved any more than we do. They have allies of their own who can make sure they remain uninvolved, in some places; and in others they are simply more accustomed to working outside the law than you are."

"I don't want to know about these allies, do I?"

"Much of it you already know, or suspect. The Ghouls are nationwide, and old in the sense that this country is old. They have had much time to place people where they wish them to be."

"What about other allies ... like you?"

"Their communion is more physical in nature, and is more limited by the flesh. They hunt in person, not in spirit."

"Okay," said Gordon, "that makes me feel a little better, at any rate."

He turned and took up a handful of moss and leaves. "We need cash again. Can you manage that so soon after the homunculus?"

"I can," said the Ally, "though if we do not need it now then perhaps it should wait until the coming of the sun, for you seemed unsteady in the car."

"I'd killed a man and raised him from the dead to kill again," said Gordon flatly. "That'll give a strong man shakes. I'm fine now."

"As you will." The blood poured, the leaves changed, and soon Gordon found himself once more holding a wad of bloodstained money. He took it to the water's edge and began to scrub, working in the darkness to clean the bills without tearing them.

"I never asked before. Is this money - is it real? Or does it turn back to leaves after a while?"

"It has ever been real enough for our purposes," said the Ally. "It is a small and simple trick, as I say. Why do you ask?"

Gordon looked back through the trees. "Because it's going to have to serve someone else, very shortly. I can't leave her here if the Ghouls know, but I can't ... I won't have her in trouble because of these tricks. If she needs the money to get out of this place, I want to be sure that it will last her a while."

"Ah," said the Ally, and nothing more for long minutes. When it spoke again, the old edge of coyness had slipped back into its speech.

"I cannot say for certain, O blessed child of man, whether this dross will serve the needs of she who bore you. The world of riches lies outside my realm, and my hosts rarely find such a need in their manifold travels and travails."

"What is it you want?" Gordon's voice was polite, but quick, and came sharply to his tongue. "I know that tone of voice and it's no longer necessary. Tell me plainly what you want and we'll see how it's going to work."

The edges of the wound creased and tightened, and it was impossible to say if the twisting indicated acknowledgement or displeasure; but the voice mimicked Gordon's in its straightforwardness.

"I want to know where you plan to go, if we are to take her from danger. I want to know when you will return to the tasks at hand and see to the root of your problem. You are not reborn to become a hunted animal, but a hunter."

"I don't plan to take her anywhere. She won't be safe near me, but she's also certainly not safe here. I know a way I can get back in touch with her and I mean to use it once the Ghouls are a memory, but I don't even want to know where she's going. This will take one more night, maybe two. And then we'll be on the move again, back toward the heart of the matter. Does this answer you?"

"Perfectly," said the Ally, with neither heat nor shrewdness in its voice. "I am answered and will be content, and therefore I will tell you again that I cannot say for certain how long the effect will hold. I have made these monies before and nothing untoward has occurred, but ever I have been moving at the time and have not seen fit to concern myself with what came in my wake."

"That'll have to do. It's not as if anyone pays cash for anything any longer." He thought for another moment. "Hell, what about papers? Can you turn leaves into other documents, like a driver's license?"

"To hide the man you are, or the woman she who bore you is? It is not my realm, O my host, though I may know one whose realm it is and who may be willing to aid you for a small consideration."

Gordon's throat tightened. "You might ... know one?"

"One whom you may summon and command, if I give you the name. If you would hide yourself from the hierarchies of man, then you would do worse than to cloak yourself within our own legions. Yes, I might know of one, and I will give it to you ... If you wish."

Story and image by Ivan Ewert, Copyright 2007