Dreamchasers

Preview (WIP)

"They sent me because I don't exist." said the strange boy suddenly. "Not in your memory, at least."

I paused and turned around. His silhouette in the rain-slicked alleyway seemed intimidating, though I was much bigger and most likely stronger. He began to approach me, so I turned to face him.

"How much do you remember?" he asked me.

"What do you mean?"

"How far back does your memory reach?" he persisted. I thought.

"Back to when I was born, I suppose." I said.

"Do you remember it vividly?"

"Obviously not."

"Do you remember the beginning?" I paused again. The beginning? What he meant by that I wasn't sure. I couldn't see his face. I could only guess what kind of expression he was wearing underneath his cowl.

"The machine? The editor?" he prodded. Now I was very confused, but something seemed familiar about what he was hinting at. I teetered my hand side-to-side in a 'so-so' motion.

"You remember..." he muttered. "Even if only vaguely, but it rings a bell, doesn't it?"

I nodded. He stopped a few feet short of me. I heard the roll of thunder. The neon lights of the diner across the street from the alley seemed to cast a soft glow in the air around them. The boy slowly removed the cowl, revealing scruffy silver hair, thick and curly, matted down by the rain. He gazed at me with an almost frightening intensity. His eyes were gray, like the clouds above us. He opened his mouth and spoke again, and this time his words seemed to reverberate within my skull.

"So you're a dreamchaser, too." he seemed to whisper.

"I'm a what?" I asked. The boy closed the distance between us and slipped his hand into mine.

"Come with me." With his free hand, he put his cowl back on. He led me out of the alleyway, into a crowd of nighttime commuters, and then let go of my hand. He motioned for me to follow. I wrapped my jacket tighter around my shoulders and did so. Multiple times I nearly lost sight of him, but I kept a constant eyeline with the black and gray pattern of his flowy trenchcoat. We turned right, and appeared at the Strip. I felt a slight panic begin rising in my chest when I saw the massive crowd still bustling about the brightly lit shops and vendors, buying and selling, trading and bartering their wares. Even in the rain, these feisty young entrepreneurs continued to generate their wealth. I continued following the young boy up until he disappeared into a small cantina that was selling Oriental cuisine. I stepped up my pace and went in after him.

Why was I doing this? I suddenly thought. A strange boy had cornered me in an alleyway and demanded I follow him into a run-down restaurant that looked like it didn't follow any health or safety codes. I didn't know him, but he seemed to know me and was aware of the fact that a part of my memory held hints to a strange machine and something called an editor.

I was doing this because nothing else in this godforsaken trash heap of a city meant anything to me. I literally lived off of spare change and odd jobs that cropped up in the Strip every so once in awhile. I resided in Eddie's diner, which he kindly left open for me to come in and sleep as long as I didn't stir up trouble. Up until now, I had gotten up and wandered the city for any means at all to earn money, since I was not yet old enough to get an actual job. As possibly exciting as it sounds, the jobs had nothing much to offer. There were times I met unusual people and explored deeper parts of the city, but very rarely did anything interesting occur.

Now was the time. This boy was different, and he knew I was too. As dangerous as it might be, I could not pass up an opportunity to break the dull monotony that I endured every day. It started here, within Bambu, the dirty, unsanitary Oriental food joint that this strange boy had ducked into.

I hit my head on the top of the door frame. I spotted the boy talking to a chef at the back of the store. I approached him. The restaurant was empty save a ragged looking teenage couple sharing egg drop soup in a grimy corner. The place smelled strongly of fish, but there was no sushi in sight. The air itself was so heavy and uncirculated it almost seemed to stick to my face. I held back a grimace and soon found myself standing next to the boy. He spoke to the chef, in either Chinese or Japanese, I wasn't sure, and all the while the chef seemed to be examining me. I cleared my throat and yawned, accidentally taking in a large gulp of the putrid air. I gagged slightly and attempted to regain my composure. The chef smirked and said something to the boy under his breath. The two of them chuckled.

"What?" I demanded.

"Oh, nothing." said the boy. "Never been to the Strip before, huh?"

"I spend plenty of time here." I said, almost haughtily.

"Hmm. Interesting." He gave me a condescending smile.

"Why are we here?" I asked him.

"Lin here is going to provide us with some space to talk. I feel like I need to explain myself a little before anything goes any further. So far you've surprised me. I didn't expect you to follow me into a place like this so eagerly." he remarked. "I'm a stranger. I could be looking to rob you."

"I'd like to see you try." I said. He exchanged a quick glance with Lin, who raised his eyebrows.

"I'll pass you up on that offer." the boy said. "Come on back and we can talk."