V2Ch31-The Sandman

Officer Ross checked on Leonard Robie once he was done dealing with Kassim and the others. Robie was dead, with a fresh snake bite visible on his neck.

But no snake was found nearby. In the morning, Ross had decided, he would argue for killing Moishe right away. The snake would probably continue carrying out his wishes until the Assassin was killed. Better not to have a nonhuman enemy that would be so difficult to spot on the loose somewhere near the camp.

But it wasn’t worth disturbing Rostov’s sleep to rush this. He’d only take it out on everyone else for the rest of the day. The so-called Prophet seemed slightly less the charismatic leader he had once been with each passing day.

For now, the only thing to do was dispose of Robie’s corpse, which wasn’t Ross’s job. After he saw to it that someone would take care of that, he debated whether to remain awake and wait for sunrise, or to go to Catherine where she was. While he was dealing with the guards, her alarm had gone off.

Then she was off with a couple of those same guards to relieve the people on border patrol. Leaving him alone. Ross decided to go back to bed and try to have a better dream this time.

He returned to his tent, and he slipped into a fitful sleep once more.

This time, as soon as he’d slipped into deep slumber, he saw a surprising face.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. He tried to make his tone demanding, but it didn’t quite work. There was something hollow beneath it. Perhaps exhaustion.

“I’m here to make a deal with you,” James said. “I can move through dreams now, as you can see. Among other abilities.”

“Why me?” Ross asked, beginning to sweat. It was a little unnerving to have a perfectly coherent conversation with someone inside of a dream. Especially because the setting around them, he realized, was so simple. A background of pure black, stretching into infinity, with a spotlight somewhere shining down on the two of them.

“You know why, Officer.” James disappeared and reappeared right beside him, then put a hand on Ross’s shoulder. “I want to save you.”

“Save me?! Ha—”  Ross choked off his laugh at James’s expression, which was grim.

“I’m not joking, Officer. This cult you’re with is going to be destroyed. The question is whether you're going to go down with the ship or not. That’s up to you.”

“Didn’t we let you go before? Didn’t you run away from us with your tail between your legs?” Ross asked. “You might be the Sandman now, but unless you have Freddy Krueger powers, it’s not as if you could do anything about Rostov.”

“Rostov is a problem anyone could solve while he’s sleeping,” James said. “The question is: are you the man to do it? Like you said, I’m the Sandman.” He fixed Ross with a creepy stare.

“I’m not going to say I haven’t thought about it,” Ross acknowledged.

“But thinking isn’t doing. You’re sitting by while people get sacrificed. What good is Rostov even doing you and your wife now?”

“Keep my wife’s name out of your mouth, James,” Ross said, becoming slightly heated. “It’s easy for you to sit on your high horse, but you don’t know anything about us. About our motivations. We made the decisions we had to make.”

James continued staring at Ross, now silently with a look of disdain.

“Who are you to judge me?!” Ross practically yelled.

“Well, I’m a bad guy, too,” James admitted, smiling bittersweetly. Ross could feel this conversation was slightly draining for both of them, the way it was unfolding. “But we don’t have to be our worst selves. The first thing is courage. The reason why I haven’t killed Rostov myself is because I want to see if you’re capable of it. I know you don’t like him, don’t believe in what he’s doing. You wouldn’t be the man I used to know if you didn’t have doubts.”

“I already said I did,” Ross said. “So what? We have a plan. We know what we’re doing, and when we’ll get rid of Rostov.” He said these last sentences listlessly, as if reciting a script.

“That’s great. I’m glad you had a plan, and I’m glad you were already going to get rid of Rostov. You just have to move your plans up.”

Ross looked as if he was going to object, but James raised a hand to cut him off.

“At the risk of sounding cliche, I have your wife. She’s in a safe and secure place, and she’s not hurt. Just unconscious. I’ll let her go if Rostov dies. If not, well, I can at least cut down on his priesthood a little bit.”

James watched Ross open and close his mouth several times. Finally, the policeman found his voice: “You could get us both killed, you know that? If I fail—”

“Don’t fail, then,” James interrupted sternly. “This is not a negotiation, Officer. This is your shot at redemption! You’ve been complicit in multiple deaths of innocent people now. If you don’t cooperate with me, I’ll kill your wife, I’ll kill you, and I’ll kill Rostov. In that order. And you’ll all deserve it. Now go and do your work, before the sun comes up!”

Ross felt an intense pressure inside his head.

“Ahh! Oww!”

He blinked. He was suddenly wide awake. What the fuck was that?

—

James smiled. Dreamwalk is getting easier and easier to use. Officer Ross said I don’t have Freddy Krueger powers, but I figured out how to wake him up with a headache. The ability to hurt someone, or even kill them in their sleep, might not be out of reach.

He moved on to another dream.

“Mm hm,” Rostov said. There were two well-endowed women in his lap, wearing nothing but looks of admiration.

James saw him fondling one of their breasts and thought, I suspect there’s nothing I could really do to get him more deeply embroiled in this dream than he already is. Except conjure up more women. But no.

He stopped to think for a moment, but there really wasn’t anything else he could do. And adding more women might disrupt the flow of Rostov’s dream.

Is this really what your inner life is like? he questioned. Don’t you have fond childhood memories? Goals for the future? Is it really all just lust? Embarrassing that I’ve had to spend this much time dealing with someone like you.

He focused on adjusting the settings on Rostov’s dream to make it as deep and soothing as possible, so Rostov would hopefully sleep a bit longer than normal. Then he left.

As he returned to his body, he sent a mental command to one of his Skin Balloons, which he’d had floating around the edges of the forest.

James recalled that an aerial assault on the Rostov camp had apparently not set off any alarm bells last time. And his airborne monster could probably make the trip to the camp faster than he could.

—

Ross rose and prepared himself for the tasks of his day.

It was still dark outside, and he wanted to complete his most important missions before the sun rose. It was an imperative, in fact. He stepped out of the tent. The personnel on guard duty weren’t within sight.

He walked from tent to tent, waking a select few people. Hilda Rohm first.

He shook her and put a hand over her mouth for a moment.

“I’m doing it tonight,” he whispered. “Taking out Rostov. Need your help.”

Over the last few days, as Rostov had shown such weakness against the masked intruder and become obsessed with the runaway prisoners, the camp had become increasingly discontented. Ross had taken advantage of the weakness of Rostov’s leadership. Before he spoke to Catherine about killing Rostov, he’d discreetly approached others.

The five of them gathered beside the bonfire.

Ross had explained each of their roles when he woke them.

“We can make a change for the better,” he said to the gathered group. “I’m going in now. Thank you all for supporting me.”

The handful of people all smiled at each other.

“If we don’t see each other again, it was an honor betraying this scumbag with all of you,” said Chris Roach.

“At long last,” said Hilda Rohm.

“It feels overdue now,” agreed Ross.

Carlo Roma and Sara Rollins simply nodded. The group exchanged weary smiles. Then they went to perform their separate work.

—

“What are you going to do now?” Hester asked after James debriefed her on what he’d done this time.

“I want to go find the Rodriguez camp,” James said. He got up and began walking away from the border with the Dead Marsh. “But if I go and find them, the cultists are probably going to kill Moishe Rose. That’s even assuming that Officer Ross manages to kill their Prophet. Rostov’s gotta have some loyalists in the cult who will keep sacrificing people even if he dies. It’ll be my job to mop up and make sure that no harm comes to their prisoners, especially the one who’s been doing the good work of fighting the cultists.”

“Couldn’t you have asked Officer Ross to set him free?” Hester asked.

“No,” James replied. “I couldn’t give him the idea that the cult had anyone I cared about at all. He might get the idea to treat Moishe and the others as hostages and try to exchange them for his wife. Then I’d have to convince him that I don’t care as much about saving innocent people as he does about his wife. That’s probably true, but there’s no point in weakening my negotiating position by letting him know he has anything I want at all. Not when I can go and jailbreak the prisoners again during the hubbub while he’s killing Rostov.”

“I see.” Hester sounded slightly confused.

James waited a moment to see if she’d voice her confusion.

“I can’t help but wonder, would he really have thought that way?” Hester asked. “Are humans that callous?”

“You never know,” James said. “Think about it this way. This is a man who was able to justify sacrificing other people to Moloch. We can’t assume he operates according to the same strict moral standards that I apply.”

“Was that last bit sarcasm?” she asked cautiously.

“Maybe a little.”

—

Ross entered Rostov’s tent, gun drawn.

Everything was squared away but this.

Rostov lay on his cot, arm half draped over his bedmate, Alice as they both slept. Even in her sleep, Alice looked a bit uncomfortable next to Rostov. In addition to crushing her under his arm, he was also somehow hogging their blankets.

Ross thought he’d cover her up better when he’d done his bloody work. Realistically, though, she would probably wake from the sound of the gunshot, covered in blood. A detail that didn’t matter.

Ross focused on the moment. Took deep breaths.

His hand shook slightly as he advanced toward the sleeping man.

Just killing a guy in his sleep, he thought. What could be easier?

But it was hard. Being in Rostov’s tent, sneaking up on him, was closer to a nightmare than a dream. James had almost made it sound easy, but he had no way of knowing Ross’s psychology in a moment like this.

Ross had killed a man since arriving in Orientation, and shot to kill in another instance, but those had been in the heat of combat. Killing a man in his sleep was something else. Even this man.

Still. It was time to steady his nerves and do what he should have done weeks ago.

He raised the pistol. Pointed it at Rostov’s chest. That place just to the left of center where he knew the heart would be. Ross flicked off the safety with a practiced touch. He’d done it a thousand times on the range.

Swallowed. Took another step closer. Can’t risk hitting Alice if my hand shakes at the critical moment. He pictured himself putting the gun right up next to Rostov’s head and blowing his brains out. Yeah. That would do it. He adjusted his aim.

Raised his foot for a final step. Put it down on something uneven.

Alice moved, awakened by Ross’s foot on her leg. She bolted upright, eyes fixed on the gun in Ross’s hand.

He raised a finger to his lips—too slowly! She screamed.

Rostov’s eyes burst open.

And Ross pulled the trigger.