The drinks came back and Joe winced after taking a deep sip from his. At the same time an alarm bell rang in his head, telling him he was setting a dangerous trajectory for the night. Or, hell—for the morning. It was already the next day. But he squashed it all with ambivalence, focusing back on the stage as he drank more. The dancer’s legs were right in front of his head, her leg wraps and lace beckoning him. Crumpled dollar bills were scattered about the stage like old autumn leaves. Feeling compelled, Joe reached into his pocket and felt a roll of cash within. It hadn’t been there before. He removed the roll and saw it was a mess of bills, of several denominations—ones, fives, tens, and twenties predominant among them.

So now I can make cash, he thought, while unthinkingly sprinkling several of the bills toward the dancer on stage, paying no attention to what denominations they were. In graceful response, she knelt closer so he could put them in the leg wrap parked high on her thigh while her eyes shined on him. Then she resumed her dance as Joe looked over at Roy, who sat there with a blank stare and a mindless grin.

It prompted Joe to study him a little closer, and he could realize something then—he could see it very clearly. All this time he’d been entirely self-absorbed, just wondering what was happening to him and concerned only about himself. But now he could really see the weariness in Roy, too. The guy had been through the wringer, it was clear. He was just barely hanging on, perhaps only by a thread. No wonder he was so out of sorts, Joe thought, noticing again the loopy expression on his face. Not to mention his suit, that was ragged and ripped from the night’s events. Roy looked completely unconcerned with all of it. He almost looked like a shell of himself.

“Are you okay, man?” Joe asked.

Roy nodded. “Better than okay. I’m fuckin’ done.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Tonight was like… the last thing I gotta do, Joe. Now… I’m out, man. This is it for me.”

Joe felt a shudder. That meant, implicitly, that Joe was only just getting started. “So it’s all on me now, isn’t it?” Joe asked.

Roy nodded. “The baton has been passed. You’re the runner now.”

“The runner?”

“I served my time.” Roy sipped deeply from his drink.

Joe tried to think of his next words, but felt his mind wash away in the buzz of the alcohol and the smooth, steady beats sailing through the air. So Roy spoke for him.

“So that girl… Danielle… what did she tell you was happening in New York City this weekend? What kind of cover does she have?”

Joe sipped from his drink before answering. “She says it’s a party. At some club in Manhattan. She made it sound pretty innocuous. Although the party has some kind of weird name…”

“The End of the World Party,” Roy finished for him. He spoke without hesitation.

Joe felt a deep, sinking feeling. “How do you know about it?” he asked.

Roy took a sip from his drink that was already down to just the ice. “I’ve been there before,” he said, finally.

Joe felt anger sweep over him, wondering how that made any fucking sense at all. He was about to speak again, but he was cut short when a woman approached, bringing Roy his next drink with perfect timing. He only felt mild surprise when he saw it was Amy who brought it out to him. Only now, she’d adapted to the new setting, and was undressed to suit, like a butterfly having emerged from its cocoon. Her apron and plain T-shirt were gone, and underneath she wore a sports bra and hip-hugger shorts, worn low enough to easily reveal the top straps of her lingerie that glowed a brilliant orange in the black light. Her red bandanna had also vanished and underneath her honey brown hair was set into two long cornrows that extended into braids reaching down past her thin shoulders. Joe felt taken aback at her sudden reappearance, and how dramatically she’d changed. He was actually glad how then she paid him no attention at all. It was only Roy she focused on, exchanging some banter back and forth with him, quietly enough so Joe couldn’t quite make out what they said over the music. She giggled often though, and her voice was crackly sweet.

“I’m losing my mind all over again, Roy,” Joe muttered, just after she walked off.

“Did you ever really have it though?” Roy asked, inquisitively.

“It’s like… there’s never any break. It’s always being… shredded.”

He watched Roy take out a pack of cigarettes and Joe felt an incredible rush of relief. Without words, Roy handed him one, quietly sensing his great yearning. Then he took one for himself, too. He flicked a lighter and soon they both dragged deeply and the fresh smoke filled the air.

The waitress brought his next drink too, in a dazzling neon green flash, and Joe thanked her. She smiled back and when she did Joe felt like he could just gracefully bow out of the entire fight now and be done with it all. No one would even notice he was gone. Instead he could get a job, right there at that club. It’d be a gig he might actually enjoy for once. He’d work each night dutifully, and he’d get to know everyone, not just the girls but the entire staff, including the ownership, the bouncers, bartenders, everyone. He’d work hard and be a good guy. He’d be part of the team.

Shaking his head, he tried to clear the cobwebs. He knew he should be using the time to fire questions at Roy. But still the words—meaningful ones—were tough to find. And meanwhile the pop R&B was a relentless stream that, despite everything, Joe couldn’t keep from bobbing his head to. That’s what it all came down too, apparently. This was the end result. His night of great discovery would conclude with him drunk at a strip club, vaguely moving to the music, wondering how fucked up he actually was. It was just like most any other night.

“Roy,” he said, forcing himself to speak.

“What?”

“You said that the baton has been passed. And that I’m the runner now.”

“Yes. You are.”

“What does that even mean?”

Roy searched for the words, and eventually let them loose. “You’re going on a journey,” he said. “Whether you like it or not. It’s a trip, through your dreams, and through your nightmares. But it’s not a leisurely affair, as I’m sure you’ve gathered. Hence the running. If you do make it, then it will be by just the seat of your pants.”

“That’s nothing new. That’s generally how I’ve lived my whole life.”

Roy smirked at that.

“How will I know where to go? How will I know what to do?”

“You didn’t really answer me the other day, but I’m assuming you have your guide?” Roy formed his hands into a bowl as he spoke.

Joe knew he was referring to the blue glass ball. It felt like a blow landing across his face.

“Yeah… well, I did.”

“What do you mean you did?”

“I might have lost it.”

Roy shot back a wide-eyed look, like that was unheard of, like there had been hundreds and hundreds of people who’ve gone through this before, and no one had ever, ever lost the glass ball. Losing it was the one mistake that could break the whole system, that could collapse the entire infrastructure, and if he really had lost it, then Joe would be the one to fuck it all up for everyone. He could be the failure for all of humanity.

“I have to find it, don’t I?” he asked, miserably.

Roy nodded, still with his shocked look. “The fact that you don’t have it, the fact that you’re not carrying it right now, is… inconceivable.”

“What the hell even is that thing? And what did you call it? My guide?”

Roy nodded again. “That’s what it is. A guide. It’ll let you talk to who you need to talk to, it’ll show you what you need to see, and it’ll even take you where you need to go.”

“Oh,” Joe replied, his eyes seeming to look a million miles away. He’d already used it once, to commune with Eddie, so part of that made sense.

“But just remember, Joe. You can’t control it. It triggers on its own.”

That was also true to his experience. It had summoned Eddie seemingly on its own.

“Find it, goddamn it, and don’t you ever lose it again. Don’t ever give it to anyone either… unless it’s her.”

“Jennifer?”

“Of course.”

The injection of Jennifer into the conversation brought a smile to his face, and it felt like a load of weight fell off his back. But that weight came right back on when Roy mentioned the next part.

“And don’t ever let your shadow get ahold of it either.”

“What did you say?” Joe asked, feeling a moment of panic.

Roy studied him carefully. “Have you seen it, Joe? Your shadow?”

It felt like a cool draft passed through the cavernous club as goosebumps sprouted on his arms. The dancer on stage shot a look over at them, as though she somehow sensed the seriousness of the topic.

“Have you actually seen it?” Roy asked again.

Joe could picture it, the dark figure, standing in the alley, venomous words spewing out of it, a horrifying version of himself. It had visited him on a few occasions—more often than he dared to admit actually. To Roy, or to anyone else, for that matter.

“Tell me truthfully,” Roy said, recognizing his reluctance to speak of it. “It’s really important to know how deep you’re in this.”

There was a break on stage and Joe waited for the next song and the new dancer to start before he dared to speak. But ultimately they were too slow. So Joe spoke during the solemn silence.

“I have. I have seen it.”

Roy nodded understandingly, as though wanting to accept the news, while not casting any judgment.

“It’s come to me a few times,” Joe added, “but only when I’m asleep. Or, when I’m… shitfaced.”

“That’s because it lives in your subconscious. Those are the times when it visits.”

Joe broke his gaze away from the new girl as she strutted out onto the stage. He looked back at Roy. “What does it want?”

“Think about the very worst thoughts you’ve ever had in your life, Joe. I mean, the ones that you’re afraid to even mention to someone else. Have you ever had any like that?”

Joe shrugged. “I… I suppose so.”

“Well. That’s what it wants. It wants those. And it’ll bury you trying to get them.”

“It wants to kill me,” Joe muttered, thinking back to those dark nights, standing on the ledge, the shadow down below, whispering to him, egging him on. “It’s already tried to kill me,” he added.

Roy didn’t reply.

Joe snapped out of it. “It’s not actually real though, right?” he asked. “I mean, this is bullshit, right? It’s all in my head. We’re talking about a demon that lives in my fuckin’ head.”

Roy shook his head vigorously. “Not anymore, Joe. It’s very real, it’s very dangerous, and it’s coming for you…”

Joe huffed. “Are you talking like, metaphorically?”

“No,” Roy muttered. “I mean physically. It’s coming for you.”

“So I created it? The same way I created Landon, or some other nightmare? Is that what’s happening?”

“No. Not this one. It’s always been real. And it’s coming after you now. It’s able to cross over, from your dreams, your subconscious, and into the physical realm.”

“How?”

“Because the doors will open. Tonight. In New York City. At the End of the World Party.”

The music started back as the new dancer moved her body to it. Joe remained speechless.

Roy carried right on. “That’s how it works, see? Danielle will smile, she’ll bat her eyes, and she’ll bring you right along. But once you’re there you’ll see the ruse. That the party is just a cover. It’s really an invocation. The doors will open, and the shadows will come through. Then there will be nothing separating you from them. The walls of sleep and subconscious will fall down. You’ll be merged with your dark side. It will take over. Then you’ll be just like them. The sect. Depraved, corrupt. Without remorse.”

“Fuck that. I’ll fight it.”

“Then it will kill you. You can’t win, not against it. No one can defeat their shadow.”

Joe stared at the dancer for some time before finally speaking.

“So I’ll just stay away, then. I’ll stay away from this party, or whatever it is. I’ll stay the hell away.”

“It may be too late for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because I don’t think you can escape it. It’s like a vortex, drawing you in. That’s why you’re in so deep now.” Roy’s face was grim. Any sympathy he had was gone.

“So, what am I supposed to do then?” he asked.

Roy shot him a frustrated look. “Really? How many times have I told you this?”

“I need to find her. Jennifer.”

“Yes. That’s what you do. Find her. Run to her.”

Joe nodded.

“And if you pass through any doors on your way, be sure to close them behind you.” Roy then lit up another cigarette.