The Wilds (Reign and Ruin 1) Read Free Page B

fuck,
Marty?"
    "He's been
around for hundreds of years," he continued. "Time runs differently
in Palet and . . . oh Jesus, I really need a beer."
    He stubbed out
his cigarette on the floor and looked at his watch. "No time. Oh,
shit, Maggie I messed up. But I need five minutes, that's all, and
then we need to go."
    "I am not going
anywhere with you."
    "Yes, well,"
Marty said, ignoring my refusal completely, "the matter involves
you as well. I wish there were another way, but I must take you
with me. And I will knock you about the face and carry you over my
back if I have to, but I don't think Cirrus would want you
damaged." He then tried to smile reassuringly, which didn't help
seeing as he had just threatened to hit me over the head with a
blunt object. "I'm so sorry, Maggie. But I wouldn't ask it of you
if it weren't important. Your job is so much bigger than yourself
and unfortunately that is how the world works most of the
time."
    "If my uncle
dies –"
    "Did you forget
how this all began, Mags? He is dead!" Marty's voice rose. "What do
you think he's doing there, sleeping? But the people inside his
head? The world he created with these paintings . . . they aren't
dead. And they want you."
    He kneeled down
in front of me and spoke very slowly. "Now I am going to tell about
Palet and about Cirrus. Pay attention and do not forget what I say.
Forgetting for a moment that you are no longer your own person will
be the death of you." He reached over and patted me on the shoulder
"And just remember that really, most of us want you to win."
    "Win?" I
whispered. The look Marty gave me was full of sympathy.
    "Please,
Maggie. Listen . You're about to take a very long walk . .
."

Chapter
3
    "You've naturally heard of invisible friends?"
Marty asked.
    "I never had
one," I replied. I couldn't stop myself sneaking glances over at my
uncle. Still dead. I wished someone would close his
eyes.
    "That somehow
doesn't surprise me," Marty said. "Well, I was your uncle's."
    "My uncle
dreamed up a scabby old hobo to play ball with at the playground?"
I asked. Marty's eyes narrowed but other than that he ignored
me.
    "Imaginary
friends, however recreationally entertaining, usually disappear as
quickly as their child discovers television. Your uncle was
different. One day not so long ago, he must have put me down in
grease paint. It was at that moment that I suddenly found myself
concrete, tangible and feeling."
    "You're telling
me that because he painted you, you became real?"
    "Like the first
man on earth, I could feel my blood flow for the first time as I
took the first breath ever breathed. After feeling like that, why
do you think heroin is such a rush?" Marty walked to the walls
where the painted dreams hung. "They all became more than just
ideas. Every one of these ugly creatures has a real face and
name."
    Marty looked
over to one of the paintings, two angels fighting high above the
plains of what looked like a great green and yellow dustbowl. One
of them held an upraised silver sword, ready to plunge it into the
breast of the other. My uncle had painted their bodies at the sheer
limit of physical effort. Every muscle looked to be in action,
straining to win over the other. Their faces, however, were serene.
Their lips were slightly parted, as if speaking soft poetry. They
looked at each other with the tenderness of lovers. The sword would
never be thrown and the battle would forever be fought in their
manner of violent quiet.
    "Understand,
Maggie, that every world has a very sensitive balance of good and
evil. Not even evil, Maggie, but imperfection. It needs bad as much
as good or it would tip into ruin. In Palet, it is understood that
everyone has a responsibility to uphold the balance."
    Marty held his
stillness for a second before turning around.
    "Now that
balance is in jeopardy" he said. "The balance is being tipped and
it's being tipped by a man called Cirrus." He smiled. "My new boss
and your challenger. He's an important man in