The Strange Saga of Dusty Tom the Gunslinger {Installment One}

A black jeep roared over the well-kept road; this black river of asphalt winding its way through the Montana woodlands. They'd passed a small town not too far back, followed by sparse, open areas freshly clear-cut and ready to be recropped by cheap cash lumber; white or red pines planted in straight lines like soldiers or rows of corn.1

Those marks of civilization and safe, endearing humanity were beyond them now. The woods rose up wild and untamed on either side of the speeding car, great prehistoric trees sometimes stretching their bows across the street to the other side. The car's driver turned on the headlights as he navigated the shadows. 2

"It's following us again," said the passenger, making sure only the top of his head and eyes were visible through the back window as he stared out intently at the road behind them.3

"Remind me again, Tom; what is following us?"4

"Bigfoot," he said. "He been on our tail since we up and left Arizona, that old bastard. He runs like the devil only twice as fast, he does. I told you we needed us a quicker auto."5

The driver yawned dramatically before responding. "This car is good enough. Bigfoot would need a hell of a pair of Nikes to have caught up to us on the turnpike."6

"He's barefoot, a'course," said Tom is his thick southern drawl. "Ain't no boots made by men gon be big nuff for that sumabitch, let me tell you."7

There was a brief moment of silence. Garett, the driver, yawned again.8

"THERE HE IS AGAIN!" yelled Tom. He ducked behind the seat and reached for a revolver that wasn't there. When he realized his hand was not closing on the sure hickory grip of his trusty pistol, he formed a makeshift one from his thumb and forefinger, cocking back the hammer of his thumb, ready to defend the back passenger side of the '83 Olds at any cost.9

Garett checked the rearview mirrors to see if perhaps there was any merit to Tom's rant. He saw only the shadowy, mysterious foliage and black asphalt that he'd just viewed in his headlights as he passed it.10

"This place is already giving me the creeps," thought Garett. He fought the urge to light up a cigarette as they drove on.11

Not many people made it out this far into the wilderness, for there was simply nothing but the forest and the high-walled gray building that the vast woods served to seperate from the rest of the world.12

Swampcrest.13

That's all the sign at the gate said; black engraving set in gray stone. It was still a fairly new facility, but it was designed to convey a sense of tottering age and serene harmony with the nature surrounding it. Whether or not it succeeded was another matter.14

The jeep stopped abruptly at the gate and Garett ran out to push it open. There was no electronic call on the gate at Swampcrest. They'd had one, early on in the institution's charter, but it had broken and they'd never really seen a reason to fix it again. 15

He returned to the car, adjusted his black tie and took off his cheap sunglasses. 16

"So what do you say, Tom?" he asked, "like it so far?"17

Tom sat up in the back seat, uncocking his gun and returning it to the holster of his left pocket. Normally patients would be wrapped in a cozy little straightjacket, but for Tom that was not necessary. Lost in the brilliant world of his own delerium, Tom only smiled and stared out the window, ignoring the doctor's question.18

Outside was the untamed primitive wilds of the middle country. Though he knew most of the Northern tribes to be friendly, Tom kept an eye out for sign of injuns. Where was the good Doc taking him? Surely there wasn't much to be said of civilization out in these parts.19

"This some kind of loggin town er something, doc?"20

"No, Tom," responded Dr. Hess, "this is Swampcrest, that special research facility I was telling you about. They've transferred us both here."21

Tom frowned a little and scratched his head. "Swampcrest..."22

It was a hell of a name for a logging town.23

~~~24

"Good morning" said the sprites in their disjointed, spectral voice. "Wake, Queen, there is someone here."25

Elizabeth woke slowly, the cottony fog of sleep clearing from her mind.26

Soft sun illuminated particles of dust, swirling lethargically in the still air of her chamber. The lush velvet curtains were thrown wide open to admit the morning light, playing strange shadows across the crystalline wall fixtures and bronze furniture. Elizabeth dropped out of bed, her feet sinking into the think tapestry rug that covered the entirety of the floor. 27

"Another beautiful day greets you, your majesty," the sprites whispered. "All is well in your kingdom, and a new subject awaits your welcome."28

"So you've told me," said Elizabeth to her sprites, yawning and stretching. "Have you sent for Theodore?"29

There was a brief silence. Elizabeth put on her slippers as she waited for an answer. 30

"He is already on the way," replied the sprites. Their voices were like windchimes, all fluting and singing in unison.31

The door to Elizabeth's cell slid open. Dr. Theodore, who's full name was actually Theodore Theodore, clipped his pen to his clipboard and bowed as he entered. The door was, as always, unlocked in case Elizabeth needed to use the bathroom in the night. They'd tried locking it, but each time it was only unlocked again in the morning. While leaving a cell open during designated sleep hours was against hospital policy, nobody on the staff said anything. Swampcrest was far enough removed from the mainstream of the medical society that the only applicable rules were those the active staff chose to implicate, and nothing more.32

"Good morning, Queen Elizabeth."33

She turned to face him, brushing her fine auburn hair out of her eyes. "Good morning, Teddy."34

Dr. Theodore smiled even broader. He loved it when she called him Teddy. "So what is on the agenda for today, my leige?"35

"Today, I will confer with the board of advisors concerning the state of the kingdom. Then, I will take brunch with the new addition to Swampcrest."36

Dr. Theodore was scribbling frantically on his clipboard with a mechanical pencil, and the lead broke as she mentioned Tom. "How did you know about our new patient, Elizabeth?" He hit the heel of the pencil, extricating a new lead click by click.37

"I know all, Teddy. The sprites keep me well informed. Now if you will excuse me, I am going to get changed."38

"Of course, your majesty." Teddy bowed out of the room and was about to shut the door when her voice caught him mid-motion.39

"Oh, and Teddy? Have someone polish the brass on these tables."40

Dr. Theodore stared at the blank white laminate desk and shelf that adorned Elizabeth's cold, gray cell. "Of course, my leige." He bowed again, his brow furrowed and confused, and exited into the cool, gray hallway. There was a new patient and employee to be greeted, and he was already late.41

With the door closed, Elizabeth produced an elegant white gown from her dresser and a matching tshirt of faded blue. She drew a mantle across her shoulders; a uniform pink bathrobe with "SwampCrest" printed on the from pocket in worn gray thread. Prepared to face her kingdom in the finest of her dress, Queen Elizabeth stepped into slippers and exited her cell.42

Dr. Theodore watched her pass on her way to the cafeteria, his head bowed low. The new staff member, Dr. Hess, stood next to him, lookly mildly amused. 43

"So that was her, then?" asked Hess, "That was the Queen?"44

"Yes." Responded Teddy, "Isn't she gorgeous? Our most successful patient to date. She knew that Tom here had arrived without me even telling her."45

"Extraordinary. I've heard rumors, but you know how people talk in our business. Especially lately. Have you heard some of the things coming out of the city asylums?"46

"No, not really, Dr. Hess." Dr. Theodore adjusted his glasses and rubbed at his gray, thinning beard. He'd meant to shave it that day. People told him he looked like Bill Cosby when he shaved, but in the times when he didn't, he thought he looked like a black Santa Claus, all jolly and ancient behind thick, wire-rimmed glasses. "We're very secluded here. You'll find we don't hear much of anything that's not on the news."47

"That's also strange," commented Hess. "With all that's been happening; all this weird parapsychological stuff... I mean... Why hasn't it been on the news? The only people that seem to know about it are people like us."48

"Dammit, Hess, you need to quit yammerin!" Tom yelled, speaking for the first time since his arrival inside the Swampcrest facility. "I've been hungry as a damned coyote since we passed through Illinois!" He pronounced coyote 'ka-yote'.49

Dr. Theodore smiled. "The patient is always right, Doctor. Perhaps its time I showed you to the cafeteria."50

"Whoo, doggie, let's get movin then." Tom turned to Theodore. "Sorry bout the language, there, Doc."51

"You can call me Teddy, Thomas. And its no problem."52

"And most folks just call me Dusty Tom, Teddy."53

"Yes, I've heard. The Gunslinger."54

Dusty Tom smiled softly, studying Theodore with his piercing, cold-steel eyes. "Damn straight," he said. He paused briefly, and when he saw that his language truly didn't bother his elderly companion, he grinned and stepped into the cafeteria. 55

Hess hung back in the lobby, observing the repetoire between his patient and his new co-worker. 56

The lobby secretary set to work entering the paperwork into for the new patient into the database, her gum snapping and fingers clicking across the keyboard rhythmically in tune with the song blaring from her headphones, which she wore around her neck. She didn't stop typing as he looked up at Hess.57

"You're not going to join them for brunch, sir?" 58

"I don't think so." Dr. Hess glanced at her nametag. "So, Marlene, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"59

She blushed and bit her bottom lip, trying to suppress a smile as she continued to type. "My name is actually Jane. This nametag belonged to the last secretary. I'm just wearing it... you know... as a joke."60

Hess failed to see the humor, but he played along as best he could. "Well, Jane, my name is Garett."61

She blushed even deeper and giggled a little. "Nice to meet you, Garett."62

"When will you be taking lunch?" Garett leaned forward and put his weight on the front of the desk.63

Jane started to answer, her eyes still on the page she was typing, when she stopped, her mouth and eyes open wide.64

"No way..." she said.65

Dr. Hess took a step back. "Is something wrong?"66

She looked to him. "Oh no, its not YOU, doctor. It's just this file..."67

"Yeah," said Hess, relaxing a little. "Crazy, isn't it?"68

"My god..." She raised and eyebrow and swallowed hard, "all this really happened? I mean... he really came back to life?"69

"Well, something like that. But I hear that's nothing compared to the things that happen here."70

"I dunno yet," said Jane, "I'm still new. I mean.. people talk about it and stuff, and like, I find it a little hard to believe. I'm still skeptical."71

Hess leaned closer to her. "To tell you the truth," he whispered, "so am I. We may be the only sane ones here, after all." He stood upright again and loosened to knot on his tie. "My quarters are upstairs, correct?"72

"Yes," said Jane, "the elevators are down the hall to your left. And Doctor?"73

Hess turned around.74

"I take my lunch break in an hour and a half."75

Garett Hess smiled and whistled to himself as he lugged his heavy suitcase down the hall. He pressed the button to call the elevator and, just before it reached his floor, he started up the stairs.76

"Hello, my cabinet." Queen Elizabeth adressed her advising lords and ladies at the central table of the cafeteria. "I've called this meeting to conduct my annual assessment of the state of the kingdom of Swampcrest. Who would like to start?"77

A mousy, dirty-looking man in a ripped button-up shirt spasmodically raised both hands. 78

"Yes, Duke Maize."79

Maize hyperventilated a moment, rapidly opening and closing his eyes as if trying to clear his head and gather his thoughts. "WE ARE HAVING HASHBROWNS TODAY!" he suddenly shouted before covering his mouth and looking ashamed. "Sorry..." He whispered, "We are having hashbrowns today. And for dinner, they are serving that yellow chicken stuff with the gravy. You know... You know that stuff.... And the gravy is good... When, you know... The... umm...." he trailed off, pausing to take a swallow of steaming black coffee. His eyes grew wide when it burned his mouth and he spit it across the table. "AND they are serving LOX WITH THE BAGELS. But I won't eat it. Cause I'm not a fucking kike- YES YOU ARE!" He then proceeded to engage in a futile struggle with his hand as it attempted to pour more coffee down his throat. Luckily for him, a minimal amount of the piping hot beverage spilled on his lap during the altercation, and he ended up with only a small sip, which seemed to calm him down.80

"Is that all for our menu today, Duke Maize?"81

The Duke had crawled under the table. He snaked one arm up over the bench seat where he had been and formed a functional mouth with his hand. "Yes," said the mouth timidly.82

"So, then. Be informed on this day that we shall partake of hash browns, lox and bagels in the morn and chicken and gravy of the yellow variety by night," Elizabeth informed all who could here. "Next order of business... Mr. Ambassador?"83

Ambassador Jakarte looked Hindu, or Philipino, or Mongolian. If asked, he would tell you to guess, and whatever you guessed would be wrong. He was a man highly regarded in the Queen's board of advisors, for he was the only man capable of his job, and his was the job most dangerous.84

"I, Ambassador Jakarte of her Majesty's royal court, do hereby state my report on the condition of the Criminal community." He bowed briefly. Maize clapped twice from under the table and was quiet. "The unclean ones are docile, my liege, and that does not bode well. I haven't seen the community this quiet in a long time. They are planning something, and by next time we commune I swear I shall know what."85

Elizabeth frowned. "And what of their King? How fairs the Ruined?"86

Jakarte sat down and closed his eyes, shaking as he forced himself to take several deep breaths. "The Ruined...." A single tear rolled down his cheek. "I have not seen or spoken to him since the incident." His teeth chattered briefly before he caught himself, clenching his jaw tightly.87

"Are you afraid?" asked Elizabeth, sounding compassionate instead of reproachful. 88

Jakarte bowed his head, ashamed. "Your Majesty.... I am terrified."89

"That is fine, Ambassador. I want an update on the situation as soon as you recieve one."90

Jakarte was silent. 91

An digital bell echoed through the cafeteria from the numerous speakers in each corner of the cavernous ceiling.92

"We will reconvene after brunch," announced Elizabeth, shouting over the white noise of the crowd rushing into the cafeteria doors. "Enjoy this, our morning feast."93

The Queen's table disbanded in an orderly fashion and walked to the food line as many of the patients pushed and shoved their way around them.94

Elizabeth peered under the table. "Duke Maize, sir. Are you not going to eat?"95

"I already am," he said, turning to her to reveal a half-eaten hashbrown. In his other hand, he held lox on a bagel, which he eyeballed distrustfully. "Found it on the floor."96

"Very well," said Elizabeth. 97

Maize could find anything he wanted on the floor, though most of the time it was food. Where he had found that morning's coffee, Elizabeth didn't know. Coffee was not served until brunch. She was grateful, for his sake, that at least when he 'found' it that day, it had been in a cup.98

"Dr. Hess, are you all situated, then?" Theodore put out his cigar as Garett entered the room. 99

"Settled, well fed, and ready to start work, sir."100

"You know, Dr. Hess-"101

"You can call me Garett. I have the feeling this place isn't all that formal."102

Theodore smiled. "You're very right about that. It isn't formal in this wing of the institution, anyways, Garett. And you, of course, can just call me Teddy."103

"Alright, will do, Teddy." Garett withdrew a cigarette from a soft pack in his pocket. "You don't mind if I...?"104

"Not at all." Theodore withdrew his cigar from the blue crystal ashtray on his desk and relit it with one practiced motion of his zippo. "As I was about to say; you do have the day off."105

"Yeah I figured as much. Still, I'm anxious to begin working."106

Teddy dragged heavily on his cigar, carefully choosing his words before speaking. "Garett.." He hesitated. "Were you told the specific details of what we do here?"107

"Well, they hinted at alot of things. Basically its just studies in parapsychology, right? The capabilities of the human mind in the realm of delerium. I've never studied it, but there were courses on it back at school."108

"That's all real shiney, nice technical terminology, but those are just words, and they beat around the bush, really. What is it we really do here?"109

"We monitor patients and record their behavior."110

Teddy raised and eyebrow and put his feet on his desk. "What kind of patients, Garett?"111

Garett looked confused for a moment before answering haltingly. "We monitor patients with superpowers."112

"Bingo!" said Teddy. "Just wanted to make very sure you know what you've got yourself into here. If you're ready to start work, then that'd be great."113

"Excellent, sir. First order of business?" Garett stood up.114

"First order of business is you sit your ass down and talk to me while I finish this cigar."115

Garett laughed. "Fair enough."116

"I think its time," said Teddy, "for you to hear some of our storied history from me before someone else tells you."117

Garett sat and helped himself to a cigar as Dr. Theodore began his tale. They exchanged stories that day until the sun dropped from the sky and it was over. Garett had not anticipated taking his first day off, but by virtue of conversation and the company of his new superior, he did.118

"I like you," Teddy said, when they were finally finished. His knees popped as he stood, his joints creaking as audibly as the leather of his desk chair. "You seemed to take our history very well; better than most. You'll do well here, I'm sure."119

Garett smiled. "I only took it well because I'm having trouble believing most of it."120

Teddy laughed. "I don't blame you. I'm not so sure I'm totally sold on certain details of your patient's tale. I suppose that's why he's a patient, after all. That's the one thing you're going to need to learn."121

"What's that?" Garett arked an eyebrow.122

"Lots of things will happen here that you don't believe. That's ok. You don't have to believe them, but you still have to deal with them. Understand?"123

"I think so."124

Teddy nodded. "I knew you would. You just seem like the type. These are strange days we're living in, brother. Strange days.... Reality just isn't what it used to be. I figure you can either get about accepting this, or you can make like them," he extended the boney length of one finger in the direction of the door. "You can go crazy."125

~~~126

It was a dark night. Not dark in the redundant, general way that all nights are dark, no not at all. Some nights are just particularly darker than most. The clouds were black tar plastered over the stars and moon, and the evening was as oily black as black oil.127

It was only snowing a little bit, but that was still enough to scare Harold. Not that he was scared of snow; quite the opposite actually. You can't live in Montana and fear hard weather. At least, usually, the weather was predictable, unlike the Great Lakes states to the east. Predictable was good. Predictable was why Harold had fled the city in favor of simple, slow life in the woods. Predictable was not snow in the middle of August.128

The road was getting slippery. It didn't look it, but Harold could tell. He slowed his old International Harvester to the relatively safer suggested speed limit of 75. One of his headlights had gone out a year ago, and he wished now that he'd repaired it. He had only a single circle of light to map his way across the ruined, pot-hole dotted road, and not even moonlight to aide his passage.129

Harold leaned forward and rested his grizzled chin on the worn knuckles of his athritic hands. It'd been a long night of drinking, and he was sure that he could just rest his head a second without falling asleep. He attempted to focus his wavering vision on the road in front of him, but occasionally one eye would close, like the headlight winking out on his truck so long ago. There were graceful arcs of falling snow spinning in opposing currents of wind in an intricate dance spotlighted in his highbeam.130

"That's when I saw it," he'd say in telling the story later. At this point he'd trail off, and the story would end.131

A clout of dirt was kicked up in fron of the car, and a shadowy form moved in the corner of the headlight's circle of illuminated scenery. Harold didn't swerve. He didn't even really move; reaction time was something he had lost half of with old age and the other half to that night's consummation of Killian's Red and moonshine.132

There was a crunch, and the sharp squeal of tearing rubber as the rim tore through the driver's side tire. Harold's eyes grew wide as the passenger side of the car was lifted into the air before slamming down again.133

The old engine creaked and coughed and sprayed fluid outside the car. Had he hit something?134

Had something hit him?135

In truly abnormal and adverse situations, the human response can become machine-like; calculative, calm and observant. Harold was not sure what he was dealing with as he calmy regained control of his automobile and steered onto the dirt road he hadn't previously known was there. Still fighting to keep control, he stared into his rearview mirror as the overhanging branches of evergreens slapped against his windshield. It was only when he saw what was following him that panicked. 136

"What the hell?!" He screamed, blinking rapidly as if to clear his eyes of the oddity they had witnessed.137

Behind him, bathed in the soft red glow of his taillights, was something enormous. It was considerably taller than the truck; 8, perhaps 9 feet. It  ran with a shambling gait on long legs, seemingly keeping up with the Harvester almost without effort. Course, wild hair captured the red light like optic fibers, making the whole thing seem to glow unnaturally.138

"A damned Yeti! MotherfuckerJesusChristsonofabitch YETI!"139

It reached out with one enormous hand and may have caught the truck's bumper had Harold not swerved just in time.140

The big vehicle flew gracelessly off the weathered dirt trail and through some scrubby underbrush. There was the wet slurp of tires rolling through mud and a hissing splash as the front end was submerged. Harold sat panting for a moment, listening to the surreal, far-off roar of the beast grow more and more distant. He grabbed another beer from the paper bag in the passenger seat, took a few sips, then vomitted on himself and fell asleep.141

~~~142