The Trinket Ch. 01

(Originally written as Dream Catcher Dreams.) Re-written, edited and expanded on to create this action packed, fiction thriller, fantasy novel, prepared for publication ... The Trinket.
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Chapter One: Janes Dream ~

Jane crouched on a perch just above the pedestrians that walked along the city sidewalks. Her feet firmly planted on top of the newspaper stand. She looked to her left, then to her right. Watching the endless ribbon of people that flowed both ways, like two currents.

A White and Black feather flew by her face a mere inches from her nose. Like an arrow shot from a bow, it went straight across the street and into a dark alley. Jane crawled from her observation post and wedged her way through the crowd in pursuit.

"Excuse me …excuse me!" She said while pressing through the crowd.

Making her way to the alley's entrance, Jane placed her right hand on the wooden stock of her pistol. Keeping her hand there as a rest, while her finger toyed with the holster snap, she walked into the dark alleyway.

As if day turned to night the alley was dark. Every step took her deeper into the shadow of the city. Looking up, she saw a sliver of blue sky between the towering buildings. She walked forward, cautiously.

An elderly woman wrapped in a blanket sat in the opening of a very large cardboard box. Jane took notice but continued to walk the center of the lane. A ‘click' sounded putting Jane's hand in motion. A flick of her thumb at the snap and she pulled the pistol from it's holster, aiming.

The old woman had lit a match and was puffing on a pipe, then inhaled the smoke deeply. She waved the match in the air to extinguish it. Letting out a stream of smoke that rolled to the ground and turned into itself. Churning and growing, the gray smoke stretched outward and took the form of an Owl with wide spread wings. It began flapping it's smoke filled feathers and ascended above Jane's head, then took flight down the alley.

Slow steady smoke trailed, wing beats, drifted for a short distance, then turned. Without missing a beating stride, the owl went through a chain link fence. Like a ghost through a wall. Small slivers of smoke hung and lingered on the metal stranded links of the fence.

"How did you do that?" Jane asked as she holstered her weapon, but left it un-snapped.

"You look with two eyes, yet see only one image… a feather. You know the sun sits still, yet you call it a sunrise. The world is filled with illusions, then we slumber in a land dreams."

"You saw the feather? Where did it go?" Jane blared, while her eyes surveyed her surroundings.

The elderly woman raised her finger and pointed towards the smoke trail that now lay on the alley floor like a foggy carpet. "Follow the feather of the Owl and you will find what you seek."

"What is it I seek?"

"We all seek the wisdom of the Owl?" The old woman snickered, "Dreams can teach us of the steps we will take in life."

"I don't believe in dreams," Jane said as she took a few steps towards the chain link fence's gate. Cautiously she stepped while glancing everywhere. She peered at the chain that wrapped the gates together and the lock.

"It's an Illusion." The old woman said loudly. Jane looked back at her then reached for the lock. She tugged at it several times but it did not open. Jane pushed the gate and shook it lightly. The two gates swayed back and forth and the chain link flapped and slapped near the first pole. She walked over to it and pulled the fencing back far enough that she could enter. She looked back at the old woman that was now …gone.

Jane slipped through the metal mesh and began walking towards an open parking area. She looked around herself, in a semicircle. Scanning the area that was visible. At the threshold of the back door entrance, lay the feather. She took a few steps towards it when a rumbling growl snatched her pant leg and shook it wildly. Growling, biting, clawing, barking and leaping. At the end of a long rope was a four-legged demon with jaws that waited till Jane was close enough and now had her pant leg and snapping.

Jane Driscol, rose up in her bed kicking, panting and breathing hard. Her arms were slightly outward in front of her, for self-defense. She scanned her bedroom. The familiarity relaxed her enough to lower her arms. She wiped her eyes then pulled back her short sandy blonde hair. She twisted her body to turn towards the nightstand. Her pistol lay holstered next to her badge and keys. She looked at the clock, it read, 3:33.

"Same… damn dream!" She said as she laid back into her pillows, turning to one side. Curled up tightly, sank her head into an attempt to fall back to sleep. Her mind continuously replayed her dream, asking herself, "Who is she?"