Please read the previous part before you continue, cool? Ya know, each previous page can be found by clicking the right arrow at the very end of each page. Blogger is odd.
Here we go, my friend. We are nearing the very end.
Your Heart Is Black
As I stumbled across the desert sand towards the utility truck with my arms full of books, I heard a sound that only a horse can make when it is about to charge.
It was scary, because it was quite close.
It was behind us.
The golden car that Katheena had named “
gave birth to Bryan. He came out feet first, like a breached
infant. From under the red light of the
dying moon in the west, he shouted, “Someone’s coming! I can feel it in my bones!”
I turned back to try to say something to calm his frazzled nerves, and beyond him I saw a blue fire. It was heading directly towards us from the dunes way off.
The only thing I could say was this: “Holy shit! Let’s get the fuck outta there! He’s coming!”
I turned back to the truck with the weight of the books in my arms and they felt like a ton of desert hard pan. I felt them slip from my grasp with the exact same feeling you get when you have left your keys in the ignition, and you have slammed the door shut to your car.
In that brief instant, you know that you have fucked yourself over, and there is nothing you can do.
I fell down on top of them books and they slid about. I rolled over and that was when
tripped over me in his panicked state and fell face first into the desert hand
He said, “Who?!”
I rolled over and spat dirt out. The Glinty was upon us. I scrambled for them books, hoping that I didn’t lose one. I said, “It’s the motherfucking ghost dude!”
Well, I tell you my friend, that got
up fast. He got to his knees and wiped
dirt from his eyes and coughed out desert dust.
He said, “You really need to tell me about this ghost shit before it
He crawled over and helped me collect the books.
I looked back and saw the blue fire. It was the mane of a giant horse, hauling a death carriage behind him. A hearse. The horse was named, “Mayhem.”
The rider atop this hearse had a preacher’s hat atop his head, and he wore a pair of eyeglasses, with one lens shot out. He’d lost that eye from a bullet that killed him a hundred years ago.
He pulled the reins up in one hand and swung the other behind him as he reached for something.
And then he whipped up a double-barreled shot gun and swung forward.
The blast from both barrels erupted the dark desertscape with an explosion of bright blue light that cast shadows and blinded us like the death of a star, a supernova.
But I couldn’t see anything.
The Glinty shouted something to his huge horse and probably held the reins back, but I couldn’t tell. I had my face buried in the sand.
The sound of a carriage hearse skidding with the wheel brakes fully engaged thundered from behind my turned-heels and the beast came to a stop right behind us.
I heard a voice that spoke from a hundred years ago, from thousands of miles above, desiccated like the surface of the moon.
The Glinty said, “I done told you boys you did it the hard way!”
I about shit my pants.
He was talking about me and Sean, my first best friend, there in that fuckhole of a city, burned into the high desert valley of the long-dried and dead Sans Joking River.
I thought that it had been a dream. Or a hallucination. Or something that one sees when they have been injured in a car crash. A dream about a visit to the moon.
Something had happened.
Somehow, this was all connected.
As we near the end of this trilogy of three books written all this time, it matters that you have followed along all this time.
There are two things you should know, which are these:
1. You have been witnessing a story unfold as is written.
2. The end of this tale is quite close.
God Help You.
God Help Us All.