Dreamscape Netherworld Book I

Somebody should really tell the guy to shave; I might just be the one to give him a head’s up once I get to know him better. His wild hair goes every which way, yet somehow still manages to be on the sexy side. He’s got this Middle Eastern thing going that works for him, especially in the current setting of ancient-looking pots and colorful fabrics. It’s as if he were cast as Shahryar in Arabian Nights.

  He should look like a killer, dressed as he is in pants that balloon off his waist, the crotch hanging to his knees. A wicked holster crisscrosses over his bronzed torso. The hilt of a sword peeks up over his shoulder. Yet, kind brown eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles at me. “Are you ready?” he asks again as I continue to gape at him.

  Long fingers scratch his chin then twist his beard. Maybell strolls over to me and clasps my upper arm.

  I finally snap out of it. “Sorry,” I say, “but you don’t look a thing like Seth. How can you two be brothers?” To be fair, now that I think about it, neither does Ian.

  A soothing laugh escapes his lips. “Let’s just say we have different mothers and leave it at that. Come. We have a task to complete.”

  I nod. “So where did you see Olivia last?”

  His face dissolves into sadness. “She was researching a target for me. We are now in his dream world.”

  “Do you think she’s still here?” I ask, glancing around to see if anyone seems a little too interested in our conversation. We’re still concealed in the shadows, but you can never be over-careful.

  Giving a slight shrug, he says, “We’ve been guarding the portals since word of her disappearance reached me, and no one has seen her. It is likely the Erobos are waiting for us to leave, or they are attempting to change her here, hoping to use her against us while we still have hope for her.”

  He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. His pain over her loss is written in his rigid stance and deflated features.

  I’ve only known him for a few minutes, but his depth of love for Olivia strikes me more than any man I’ve been around.

  “So she was in the church…doing what?”

  The place radiates darkness, and no one who has been in this business long should have risked going in there alone.

  Neither of them answers me, so I ask another question. “Was someone else with her?”

  Finally, Maybell breaks the awkward silence. “She shouldn’t have been in this part of the city. We have no way of knowing why she chose to abandon her team.”

  “Are they still here? Can I talk to them?”

  Zed snaps out of his pensive silence long enough to grunt. Then he takes off down the alley I just came from.

  Not really the best idea if you ask me, but I’m the one who barely escaped Mr. Creepy only minutes ago.

  Maybell and I follow Zed through back alleys until I think I’m going to be sick from the twists and turns. We finally emerge onto a thoroughfare where ships zoom past and no one even looks our way. They stare straight ahead without an ounce of emotion written on their features, as if they are all rushing toward a distant port without taking the time to enjoy the journey.

  I stare at the turbulent water, wondering why the streets aren’t paved. My body vibrates with a connection I never expected. Someone else’s memories download into my brain in an instant.

  The dreamer is a forty-something-year-old man, living in a three hundred-square-foot flat in a rundown area of Karachi, Pakistan. Despite his circumstances, his mind is active and alive on a level that is inspiring. He’s developing a hybrid generator that harnesses solar energy using a system of satellites to transfer energy to the generator through already established towers. I couldn’t possibly understand the mechanics of it, but he sure seems excited about it.

  More information zooms through my mind. This guy could change the way the world consumes energy. Just as quickly, reasons the Erobos want him crash through me. Simply put, he will ease suffering and they can’t have that.

  They thrive on suffering and anxiously work to increase human terror by ten percent within a human year. Where did that come from? It’s unlikely the dreamer would have that kind of information.

  When Maybell sets a gentle hand against my cheek, I hear her voice calling my name. As if rising from a deep sleep, I finally come back to the present.

  Her eyes focus on me as she scans my face. The kindness held in those depths twinges against my heartstrings. How can someone I just met show that much feeling toward me?

  “Hello there,” she says. “Welcome back.”

  Zed meanders to my side and studies me for a moment. “Where were you taken?”

  Taken? “I don’t know what you mean,” I say, trying to make sense of the information I now possess.

  “Setting. I need to know the setting.”

  “It wasn’t Olivia that I saw.”

  Crestfallen, his features deflate before he nods. “Setting?”

  “An apartment…somewhere in Karachi. That’s all I know.”

  Zed moves closer until he is directly in front of me. When I gaze up at him, his eyes hold mine immobile. After a moment, he says, “I think not.”

  Irritation bites my insides. “I’ve told you what I know.”

  He gives me a cursory smile. “You’ve told me what you think you know; however, you still have information to share. Focus. Recall the sounds around him. Recall the temperature. Was someone else with him? Was he doing something specific?”

  I close my eyes, hoping it’ll help me visualize the dreamer responsible for this realm. Something in my mind slips free, like a cap on a tube, and the information flows steadily again.

  “He’s looking out the window of his apartment, wondering if he’ll have a job in the morning. His rent is past due and he still hasn’t heard about his research grant. With so many people focusing on renewable energy sources, very little remains to spread around. His last effort failed and if his proposal to SBI doesn’t take, he will be left homeless.”

  The thought instills an echo of fear in me. I was in a similar situation not that long ago. “The place he’s in is different than here. The streets are pavement, not water. He watches the cars as they flow along the streets, lights ablaze, and imagines a world where anyone who wishes to own a vehicle can obtain one. He’s never had one, but it is one of his ultimate desires. He’s a dreamer about to lose his dream.”

  Maybell lets out a long sigh, and Zed follows close behind. His voice pinches to nearly a whisper. “Who is in charge of the distributing the grants?”

  “How should I know?” I ask, irritated that he expects so much from me. It’s not as though I really know this guy.

  Zed’s expression darkens as he takes a step closer. “We don’t have time to deal with your inner conflict. This man is under attack!”

  I throw up my hands, tempted to smack him one. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Release your preconceived notions and listen to him…become him.”

  “You want me to become a guy…a guy that’s dreaming?”

  Maybell cuts in. “What Zed is trying to say is ignore your judgments and let your mind wander. If you reach a connection, your thoughts will no longer exist in this moment. His thoughts will be all that remain.”

  My hands move up to my hips. “That’s not possible,” I say.

  Zed’s almond eyes hone in on mine. “All is possible for one who believes.”

  I cock a brow. “What if I don’t believe?”

  Immediately, his expression withers. “Then we have lost another soul to the Erobos.”

  “Nothing like putting pressure on the girl that doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing,” I say, my mind trying to make sense of what these people are telling me.

  Honestly, I want to help. I don’t want this man to fail. He’s got some really great ideas that could improve the entire planet. Not many people even care about whoever lives next to them, but he’s got us all on his radar. He deserves a grant. He also deserves more than a cockroach-infested space that smells like rotted
cigarettes.

  In fact, he’s one of the best people I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. What a silly thought. I don’t know him.

  Or do I? His ambitions have lit my insides. His flickering hope has my chest expanding.

  As more of his presence enters me, I ask, “How can I help him?”

  “Close your eyes,” says Zed.

  The moment I let my lids fall, I’m viewing the world through the eyes of a man I have never met and most likely will never really know.

  “Direct his mind. Search his memories for the information we need. Who heads the grant committee?”

  The face of an old man shimmers into view. My mind expands until I find him and forge a link with his mind too. Age has etched his dark skin with kind lines. He sits at a desk in a small office, riffling through files. His thoughts tumble into me.

  Computers only cause problems. The world was a much simpler place when people had to gather in a room to discuss options. Now, nobody wants to meet anymore. People want to teleconference.

  He loved the old days when he could feel out a project. He’d been right about most of them just by trusting his gut, but now? He has to rely on gadgets and computerized statistics. Not once has a machine been able to match his ability to pick a winner.

  He’s got more files to sort through than the Great Bambino had hits. One last decision. Then he’ll be free of the political chains that bind him to this office. He’ll be free to travel to America, to see the Hall of Fame in person. His fingers trace over the game ball his father gave him so many years ago. His mind wants to wander to the good times he had as a child, but he has work to do.

  Giving a sigh, he pulls out the next file and opens it, scanning the contents. He laughs immediately. Another kid who thinks he can singlehandedly solve the world’s energy crisis with crazy ideas. He stares at the picture, taking in the skinny frame, dark hair, thick glasses that obscure large brown eyes, and barely there smile.

  A picture can’t tell him what his gut needs to know. He reads the proposal again then tosses it on the heap. How will he ever decide who to give the last grant to?

  The connection severs. My eyes snap open. “He needs to go see Mr. Motwali at the Sindh Board of Investment. The JICA team will be visiting soon and he has to make a recommendation for the grant.”

  “What does he need to tell Mr. Motwali?” asks Jed.

  I think for a moment. “He needs to talk to him about baseball and long-shots.”

  “What else?”

  “He needs to explain the simplicity of his plan.”

  Zed paces in front of me, looking over at me every few steps. “You are sure about this?”

  I huff. “It’s not like I have anything to go on here.”

  He stops and stares at me, folding his lean arms across his chest. “Sometimes experience is a hindrance when new ideas are the order of the day.”

  “His plan is too risky.”

  “Then tell him to keep his options open. Sometimes a sideways angle is the best to take.”

  I nod. “How am I supposed to tell him this?”

  “We need to find him.”

  Yeah right. This place is crazy with its big buildings and waterways instead of streets. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I hope I never do again. With so many places to hide, the Erobos must love it here. “It has to be a long way from here. It looks like a different city.”

  Maybell leans closer. “The Dreamscape rarely reflects the mortal realm. Most things and people are symbolic. We must decipher his dream world to find him.”

  My muscles stiffen at the task. “How?”

  “You have established a connection to him. Let your mind wander. What comes first to mind?”

  “His apartment,” I say. “It was really high up. I could barely make out more than just shapes below, as if it was the penthouse, yet the actual space was tiny and rundown.”

  Zed asks, “What do you think that represents?”

  “Ambition, maybe? He has big ideas, but little room to develop them.”

  “Interesting. What else comes to mind?”

  “The lights were out, but it was as if it wasn’t by choice. Maybe the building is abandoned?” Before they can ask me, I give them my conclusion. “I think he’s on the verge of giving up.”

  Maybell shifts beside me, her face brightening. “There’s a dark sector that lost power a week ago. It could be there. There are plenty of towering structures. If he’s lost focus, the streets could have changed, as well.”

  Zed doesn’t waste a moment before he says, “Lead the way.”

  My mind has not been on my tasks all night. I’ve delivered the majority of my dreams and instilled hope where I could, but Amelia’s emotions keep pulling me out of the moment.

  I’ve never had such a strong connection to a recruit. My feelings and desire for her are one thing, but this is something else entirely.

  We have not mated, yet her presence lingers with me. If I am interpreting the situation correctly, they have made some progress. She hasn’t experienced any fear, except for a slight blip, since I left her.

  Every moment away from her leaves me further on edge. I have to trust her. I have to allow her to grow. Her capabilities astound me. She has so much potential to succeed, which only means she has as much or more potential to fail, like the rest of us have already. I shouldn’t allow my thoughts to dip into negative waters.

  It is a sure sign of my vulnerability. If I do not make a connection with Amelia soon, I will have to take other measures to protect my realm should the worst happen and I fall.

  I sincerely hope she has given up her desire to leave me. Freedom is in the giving of oneself, not in the taking of what one wants. Humans rarely understand this until it is time for their passing from the mortal world.

  Amelia has barely lived, yet I expect her to understand concepts most aged adults would not easily grasp. She is capable, and her life has been anything but easy. She has learned much in her short years. Hers is an old soul, which is what matters.

  I have saved my hardest task of this night until this moment. It must be done before I can join the others in the search for Olivia. Unfortunately, I have no desire to lock up the world of my latest failure.

  Even though he was once my best field agent, he is lost to me now. I steel my heart and find the portal.

  Once through, I gaze across the desolate landscape. What was once a thriving and vast civilization is now a shambled array of carnage. The air is devoid of life and a stagnate mire of filth rises up in its place. When the Erobos finally take over a world, no hope remains.

  The man I seek comes to me instantly. He stands by my side, gazing out over the ruined valley with me. “I had so much,” he says. “How did it fall?”

  What he seeks is reassurance that he can regain what he has lost, but he is beyond my help. I can offer him no salvation, so I say nothing.

  “You’ve given up on me?” he asks, looking over at me, his eyes red and his cheeks sunken.

  “You gave up on yourself,” I say.

  The pain in his voice burrows deep in my heart. “You can’t let them have me.”

  I give a mournful shake of my head. “I no longer have power here, Daniel.”

  His spine snaps straight. “I can change. I will change.”

  Despite the conviction in his expression, shadows swirl in his darkening eyes. He has been nearly changed. I clasp his shoulder, sadness filling me. “I hope so.”

  He whirls around, shrugging off my touch. “You don’t know! I will do it!”

  I force a smile and nod. As I turn to go, he grabs my forearm. At first I think he will argue with me, but he stares into my eyes; only after a moment, he lowers his gaze.

  If Daniel ever does recover from his drug addiction, he might have a chance to come back, to eject the vile influence that now resides inside him. I swallow my regret and force myself to the portal. Before I set into destroying the last remaining entrance to his world, I look at him. If o
nly I could strengthen him. I tried in the beginning. I focused much of my nightly efforts on him, but he gave in to destructive desires. Pretty soon my attempts had no effect.

  I give one last effort. “I hope to see you soon, my friend.”

  He doesn’t respond. A bilious fog rises from the ground in snake-like tendrils. I’ve overstayed, but I still do not wish to leave him here.

  Taking one last glance, I set the charge and walk through the portal. It implodes behind me, creaking and moaning until nothing is left but silence.

  How many more will fall?

  I try to suppress my next thought, but it shoots through to the surface of my mind: will they all? Will I? If only I could bring my team to my realm, again, I might have a real chance of shielding them.

  My teeth grind together as I stalk away. No more will succumb if I have anything to say about it. The Erobos may have taken Daniel from me, but I will not let them have anyone else. Before I return to Amelia, I visit my team, one by one. They have dwindled in numbers, which makes them only the more precious to me.

  By my last visit, my heart has loosened somewhat. I still ache for Daniel’s loss, but my team remains strong.

  With Amelia, we might just have a shot at winning this war. A smile washes over me and I take a deep breath, letting the cleansing light of her essence wash over me. With her help, I could get Daniel back. I’ve left his world intact for now. Only if I must will I seek the aid of my brothers to destroy it. He is worth saving. I just hope he has the strength to shed the darkness.

  With most of my tasks out of the way, I make a detour. I have a certain dreamer to visit before I locate Amelia.

  Once Maybell led us to the dark sector, she and Zed left it to me to locate Nabeel. I still don’t know his last name, but it doesn’t much matter. His soul is in every part of this place. He’s got quite an imagination, or whatever drives the landscape here.

  That being said, the connection between waterway and regular streets wasn’t as monumental as I thought it would be. We didn’t shoot down a gigantic waterfall onto a spongy Park Avenue or anything like that. We came to a dock and parked our boat, got into a deserted car, and headed for the inner city.

  Maybell was right. This entire area is not only dark, it is devoid of light, other than that generated by the cars. Traffic continues to congest the farther we travel. Along the way, I establish another connection with Nabeel.