To The River

If you're a new reader, this story appears to pick up in the middle of nowhere. Revisit the comic book stuff, particularly Parallel and Barren, to find out who the hell these characters are. I know I am not supposed to be posting comic book stuff here, but this seems to be the only way I ever make any progress on the stories. I'll see you after my 4-day weekend! Neener neener neener!

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It was nearly dawn before Wyatt gave up on Emma and left the asylum alone. She might be okay. But she wouldn't be in travelling shape. And they'd be adding more than antibiotics to her diet of pills once she started babbling about Wyatt's visit.

"Dammit." Once more for good measure. They're so fragile. And so they put their faith in their own creations, personalities with a little more longevity than one human life. Faith that's misplaced and misunderstood. In most cases.

Wyatt stepped into the night and lit a cigarette. Hand-rolled.

"Nice to see you, Wyatt."

He hid his startled jump by turning around a little too quickly.

"Jonathan. How are the Ends?"

"Ending. The usual."

"Mmm."

"But... something interesting happened."

"Oh? What's that?" Maddening old man, thought Wyatt. He has a point, he just won't get to it.

"We had a visitor. Didn't seem to know where he was, poor soul."

"Really? You don't see many anymore, do you?"

"Other than the Types, no. This one wasn't a Type, but... he made the sky run backwards."

Wyatt coughed. "Do what?"

Jonathan didn't look like he was joking. The burly, friendly red head had his arms crossed, his jaw set. "It's tough to explain. I think you should come with me to see."

"But-"

"Emma will be fine. You can come back later for whatever it is you need, if it still seems important."

"Come, Wyatt. Come see the river and let me tell you about Stewart."