Degan Shore: Part Four

A Story by Raven Starhawk

Lucas shook his head, the gun caressing his temple. No, that could not be. What was going on? Through a haze he observed Degan’s features warp all over again, erasing feminine angles and teenage youth.

In a much softer voice that had yet to mature the boy answered, "Try not to think much about it. You will find the truth easier to swallow once we get to where we are going."

Lucas closed his eyes. He felt as if his head was about to split wide open. None of this was real, he told himself. It was the same thing he told himself when he shared a jail cell of a thug named Rudy. The things Rudy had said really stuck with him all these years. People had thought he was crazy, but Rudy was a true prize in that regard.

"Everyone chooses a path in life," the Degan boy said. "What will yours be?"

Lucas seethed, "Just shut up."

The Degan boy thing laughed and made a sharp right. Lucas didn't bother to look up at him. "Is that your answer to everything? I know it is hard for your simple mind to accept anything you cannot see or touch. Your senses make this world for you and when they fail you your first reaction is to discredit anything that you cannot experience with them."

Lucas slid down in his seat. It sounded like Degan. It talked nonsense like Degan. Could this boy really be him? If that was true that would certainly make him a...what?

"We have big plans to fulfill," Degan boy said and took a sharp left onto a dirt road.

"What plans?" Lucas heard Oz ask.

"Not now," Degan said and laughed. "Driving is so much fun!" He howled with excitement and pressed harder on the accelerator.

Lucas opened his eyes. They were parked. A ribbon of darkness stretched across the sky. He had fallen asleep. Neon lights pulsed and reflected from the windshield. He straightened to read what they advertised and rubbed his temples. The bright images left ghostly imprints behind his eyes.

"Imagine a world where lust rules in place of love," he heard someone utter next to him.

He did not want to look. He knew what sat there. It wasn't human. He massaged his temples and shifted against the restraint of his seatbelt.

"I'm hungry," Oz said from the backseat.

"That is why we stopped here," gestured the Degan thing.

Lucas grumbled, cleared his throat and rasped. "What are you?"

Degan clicked his tongue. "I said now is not the time for that."

Lucas found his stare wandering. The face he perceived was not like the one before or the one before that. Bright eyes sparkled like gems in almond shaped sockets. They pierced him with something ancient and all knowing, something he neither understood nor cared to understand. His skin had become translucent, almost milk white and smooth as silk; neither a blemish nor a pore was visible. He never before saw skin so flawless. It was like looking at a...porcelain doll.

"Well, I have had enough of this bull. Either you tell us who or what you are or I will….”

Degan laughed. "You'll do what? Kill me? You can try. You'll fail. Now I suggest you be a good boy and just let things develop as they should."

"We will," Oz said, sliding forward. He addressed Lucas, "Just agree, Lucas. Then we can eat."

"And what about Judan," Lucas asked him. "Have you even considered her for a moment? She had that book, remember? It was written in some weird text that never really…."

"The book," Degan whispered and his stare drifted.

"Please don't hurt my sister," Oz pleaded.

Degan lowered his head. For a brief moment Lucas thought he saw a flicker of humanity sprawl across his face and wondered what he wasn't telling them.

"I won't hurt her." His voice was soft, distant and pinged with something too vague for Lucas to pinpoint. He looked up into Lucas' dark invasive stare and said in a much firmer tone, "I suggest you or your friend eat now."

Lucas fished inside his jeans for his wallet and plucked out a twenty dollar bill. "This should cover it. Hurry it up."

"You don't need money," Degan sang. "The world does not operate the way you think anymore. You will go inside and find your meal already waiting."

Oz snatched up the bill and squeezed out after Lucas opened his door. He watched him cross the parking lot and enter the strip club. Then he slid back into the passenger's seat and waited. A quick glance skyward made him furrow his brow. Gray clouds churned and darkened. Something was brewing. Something was coming or had it already arrived? He hated to think his murderous career was over.

"You believe they deserve what they get," Degan said.

Lucas huffed. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Degan tapped the steering wheel with his knuckles and said, "Your vocation is murder."

Lucas felt his control slipping. Even if he couldn't kill that freak he sure as hell wanted him to know he could not be pushed around like some fool. Then those fingers closed around his shoulder. Through the layers of clothing and his jacket they burnt cold.

"You cannot hide your mind from me," it seethed.

Lucas gritted his teeth. "What do you want?" He didn’t dare to look. His imagination mapped out what must have been and as the deepest recesses of his brain hammered home images of saliva enslaved teeth and an ever widening mouth his chest tightened.

He took in a deep breath and lowered his hand. Lucas was thankful he did so. Now the blood circulated hot again and he was able to move without feeling sharp stabs of ice everywhere.

"That is none of your concern. For now, you will do as you are told."

"And you will kill us if we don't?"

"Oh, no, death is far too easy. I like to think of it as being reborn."

"You mean death?"

Degan laughed. "No, being undead."

"What do you mean by 'undead'?"

Degan raised a tinted finger to his face and he recoiled.

It was powder blue or maybe a shade lighter. Lucas thought when he touched it to his temple it felt at first like a cold dead fish, but then seared like a hot fire poker. He twisted his face away to avoid it and bit his lip when he heard the monster laugh. The color gently shaded into milky white just beyond his knuckle and as Lucas braved a glance into his eyes realized it was the same pale hue his eyes pulsed.

He looked again at it. It was lighter than powder blue now and that was the color it remained. His eyes tried to shift elsewhere but that blue-gray tint just wasn't right. It held his attention all the while Degan spoke.

"To be undead is like sleeping with your eyes open. You see what you are doing but can't ignore the urge to do it. It is the simplest form of existence really."

Lucas swallowed and rasped, "Sounds like a zombie."

Degan laughed. "Have you been watching too many Hollywood movies?"

Lucas shivered at the thought. A few days ago he would have thought it impossible but now it was all too real.

"Do you miss her?" He heard Degan ask.

Lucas stiffened. "Who are you talking about?"

"You know who."

Lucas shook his head. "She is an old woman."

Degan stared off into space as he replied, "No, you are wrong."

"Do you know her or something?”

Degan slowly turned his head. Those blazing gray blue eyes flared like vibrant crystals behind a powerful beam. "Do not mention her name again."

"I hadn't mentioned her. I only thought about her."

Degan relaxed against his seat and said, "So you have. Let's drop it."

Lucas for the first time felt control slip into his hands. Something about Patty Weir got to him, but what? It didn't matter. A weakness was still a weakness and he just discovered his.