2019-12-20 - The Running Free

There was fifteen minutes from the time he arrived at the bus station to the time the final bus for Seattle left from Gray Harbor. Tyrone just barely had time to get his ticket and get loaded before it pulled away from the station. Just enough time to argue with Park about his leaving, too. But she thankfully stopped texting when he said he wasn't waiting. He was surprised that it only took him a matter of minutes to fall asleep once he was on board. The emotions had drained him more than he expected.

When he woke up, the bus was already pulling into the station in Seattle. Good old Greyhound. They were pretty good to veterans, and the fact that he was wearing his camouflaged jacket and carrying the camouflaged backback and ruck sack made everyone assume he was one without him saying anything. Unfortunately, there wouldn't be any more buses south that night. Which meant he'd have to wait for the morning to make head down to Oceanside, California. Which seemed about par for the course for how his day was going.

Sitting in the all-night diner next to the bus stop, Tyrone drank coffee and sifted through his phone. He didn't have any contacts in California. Most of the men he'd served with were still serving, either in Afghanistan or otherwise, and he'd never met anyone from the coast. Even so, with Camp Pendleton there, Tyrone was sure he'd find someone to take in a crippled vet. So he hit up social media and started looking. It wasn't like he didn't have the time, since it would be almost ten hours before his bus would leave.

It didn't take nearly as long as he expected to find someone willing to put him up for a while. Arrangements were made and they'd meet him at the bus stop when he got off in the morning. So then all he had to do was wait. Which was something he'd become a pro at, serving overseas. When the time arrived, Tyrone loaded back up onto another bus and then headed south, plans formulating in his mind.

The people that Tyrone stayed with weren't bad. They mostly left him alone and he mostly left them alone. They had a spare bedroom in the back of their house that they rented out to soldiers all the time, so it was set up fairly perfect for Tyrone. He just had to deal with the four steps to and from every day, which suited him just fine.

Being away from Gray Harbor felt ... different. From the moment he got on the bus to Seattle, Tyrone had been dealing with a feeling in the back of his mind that he wasn't where he was supposed to be. That he was missing something or had forgotten something. But, once he arrived in Oceanside and unpacked, there didn't seem to be anything out of place. So, much like a lot of the other feelings he had, he ignored it. He pushed it into the same box and shoved that box away. It was much harder, but he managed.

The first day he was there, he got himself familiar with the town. The bus schedule, the town layout, where things were. The second day, he called his landlord back in Gray Harbor and told them he was gone and he would send the keys back with an associate. Then he had to write Harper another letter.

Dear Harper. Hey, how's it going? So, I doubt that you will have noticed yet, but I left Gray Harbor. I had a falling out with the guy who invited me there in the first place, and with the way everything was going and everything, I just didn't have a reason to stay anymore. But don't worry, I'm safe. And I'm fine. But I just couldn't deal with the people and the stuff in Gray Harbor anymore. So I left.

I hope you don't take it personal or anything. You were actually one of the nicer people I met while I was there. I really appreciated the way you were willing to help me out and get to know me when I first moved there. And I appreciate the fact that you were trying to help me with what I was going through. But, in the end, it just wasn't worth it.

So, I really hate to impose on you, but ... would you be willing to do me one last favor? When I left, I just left my furniture and dishes and stuff in the apartment. I just took the essentials with me, and what I could fit in my ruck sack. So ... would you be willing to deal with the rest of my stuff there? I'm including the keys to my apartment in this letter, I know you've got the address. There's just a couch, my TV, my PS4, my dishes, towels and stuff. You can have the PS4 or the TV if you want. Or if you know someone who will make good use of them, they can have it. Or sell them, I don't care.

I also wanted to say thank you for the letter you wrote me for Thanksgiving. I had kind of a rough holiday and your letter didn't show up until after, but I still appreciate it. I left you a letter in my apartment, too. But I don't think it really says anything you don't already know.

Anyway! Don't try to find me, I'm doing fine and I don't need anyone coming to look for me. I'ma change my phone number here, too, so you can go ahead and just toss my records. I won't be coming back. So I wish you all the best of luck with your boyfriend. I hope he knows he's got an incredible woman on his hands and treats you accordingly. I, for one, will always think incredibly highly of you. So good luck, Semper Fi, and adios.

Peace,
Tyrone A Grier

Next, he emailed his 'boss' at the Addington House and told him he quit. He apologized for leaving without any notice, but he wouldn't ever see them again so what did he really care? He didn't. Then, he thought about Lyric. He wanted to text her. He wanted to call her. Hell, he wanted to run back to Gray Harbor and tell her how he felt and how he knew she didn't trust anyone but that she could trust him and that he would give anything for her to open her heart to him. But he couldn't. That's one of the reasons he left. Which is why it made him so angry.

Anger was about the only emotion that Tyrone knew how to handle. Anger, he could use. Anger, he could channel. Anger, he could direct into energy for something more positive. And so he took his frustration and his hurt and his loneliness, and he turned it into anger. The anger would fuel him, would sustain him, would give him a purpose when he was so lost and adrift. And that purpose was to prove he was still worth something by learning to fight in the Veil. He couldn't fight in the real world, anymore. Not in his current condition. But, in the veil, sometimes he could walk. And even when he couldn't, things just /worked/ differently over there. So maybe he could be of some use. Maybe he could learn a way to be helpful. So that's what he focused on.

One of the nice things about being in Oceanside was that, with Camp Pendleton right next door, there were /plenty/ of military surplus stores in the area. They also weren't surprised to see Marines in there, buying weapons or MREs or ammo or any of the other stuff that might have raised an eyebrow for civilians to handle. Almost any time he went in to one of the surplus stores, they'd salute and wait for him to salute them back. So he would. Then he'd ask about weapons and gear.

Tyrone didn't make it back into the Veil or the Dreaming on the first time he tried. Going to sleep with the newly acquired Glock, Tyrone woke up in his bed just the same as any other night. Even though he'd thought about it, focused on it and wished for it all he could before he went to sleep, he woke up in his own bed the next day. So, he went to a gun range and blew threw almost a hundred dollars of ammunition on that first day.

That night, when he went to sleep, Tyrone DID wake up on the other side. And he did have his new Glock with him. So Tyrone went 'hunting,' stalking through the gray, dark landscape the Dream took him to. He didn't find the dragon, but he did find some creatures of darkness. And his Glock expelled them just as it would have killed a creature in the real world. When he did finally exit the Dream, he found that he didn't have the bullets he'd used, though his gun was still with him. So, it /was/ the real gun and the real bullets and ammunition that he took with him into the Veil. Which meant that he could take weapons with him, that he could take ammo with him, and that he could kill whatever they were without any fancy powers or anything.

After waking up from the Dream, Tyrone laid in his bed as a smile crept across his face. He'd been talking about it with Easton, but now it was really clear. He could hight, he could find, and he could kill entities in the Dream. Now he just had to figure out what all he was up against, and if there would be better ways to fight. Tyrone had a purpose, now. He had a mission. He was BACK. And he was ready. Or, at least he thought he was. But the Dream can be a cruel, cruel place, no matter where you enter it.