by Mark Tufo
“Oh…now I don’t know if it is wise for me to be with you or if I should get as far away as possible.” She seemed panicked. “Married, as in a union? Were you coerced, possibly held hostage? Enchanted to do her bidding?”
“Really? Is she that bad?”
“She is not called the Red Witch because of the color of her cloak. Are you sure you did not come here to get away from her?”
“No, I did not come to hell to get away from my wife. I’m definitely enchanted by her, but not in the bad way.”
“How would you know? Wouldn’t that be how it worked? I doth think the enchanted doth protest too much.”
“You have got to be kidding me. Are you paraphrasing Shakespeare?”
“Never heard of her. You might be safer staying here.”
“I’ll take my chances going back. The question, my little friend, is why did you come back? And don’t try any of that old pal, old buddy crap.”
Her whole body sagged, maybe in relief or maybe in defeat, I didn’t know which until she started to speak. “There is no way back for me. My path has already been forged. What would I go back to? I have no vessel there to call my own. This is my home now, though I wish it were not so.”
I felt defeated for her. My chances of actually getting back were pretty slim but there it was, I still had one. A chance, I mean. Nothing she did would allow her to escape.
“I’m sorry, Linnick,” I told her.
“How I chose to live my life is nothing for you to apologize for.”
“I’m not apologizing for that; I’m being sympathetic to your plight. If I could, I would help you.”
“Who knows, maybe you can. Only archangels can defeat Luvier demons.”
“Yes, that’s me. Tallboat the Archangel. We’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got at least two, maybe three pretty powerful beings actively looking for me, several doing their hunting for them, and everything else that dwells down here is just trying to kill me for fun.”
“Not everything, but I see your point. Does this happen a lot?”
“To most people? No. To me, it tends to be the standard operating procedure.”
“Tell me more of your version of the Red Witch,” she requested after we were back on the road, such as it was.
“I am not enchanted,” I stressed.
“We’ll see…but I am curious about her through your eyes. She is a mighty and powerful warrior in my world, the shaper of histories.”
“Well, she’s that where I’m from, too. I met her long ago…damn, she was just a kid then, barely older than my daughter. She had some power back then, though I don’t think any of us knew about it except her. She stayed and fought alongside us for a while before leaving on a quest to discover what she was truly capable of. It was about a hundred and fifty years later and we were once again in the midst of a war–she saved me this time, sent Tommy to get me out of my, umm, current situation, even if I didn’t want to be saved. I’m not sure when it happened. When it went from resentment, to fear, then to love. It was a relatively smooth transition.”
“Enchantments are smooth.”
“Will you stop it with that?”
“I am looking out for your and my best interests, Tallboat. It could have been her plan all along to get you down here.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Perhaps I do. You said she first sent Tommy to save you, is that correct?”
“It is, they stayed in contact the entire time. I decided to wait out the world in my brother’s basement. So, what’s that mean?” I knew she was firing blanks; I’d be damned if I was going to give her any live ammunition to fire. It had been Azile that said she was in contact with Tommy and again it was Azile who knew a way for me to come down here. But that made no sense; I watched her kill the Green Man. Didn’t I? Or had it all been an elaborate ruse? Was this somehow her payment come due for all the magic she used? Was I the silver coins? Kind of fucked up that I’d be the one paying for my own betrayal.
“Anyone who has ever known the Red Witch has paid a price of some sort for that contact.”
“First, I pay plenty and get my share in return. You don’t know her like I do.” Though I felt my words were feeling a little hollowed out in the middle.
“Is there a chance you do not know her at all?”
I wanted to tell Linnick to shut the fuck up, she was raising wild doubts in me about the woman I loved. Wouldn’t be the first woman that screwed me over, but this would be on a whole other set of levels. I honestly wouldn’t have anything to compare it to. I’ve had plenty of women tell me to go to hell, and with good reason, but to actually send me to hell? Holy fuck that’s some messed up shit right there. Did I deserve to be here? I sure had my moments of reflection where I accepted this to be my final destination. But a woman I loved, married, had babies with? Could she be capable of this? Save Eliza, Azile had known Tommy the longest and that boy was about to throw me to the wolves. And I had adopted that kid, called him my son, brought him into the family; if he could fool me…
“This can’t be happening.” I shook my head.
“I do not need to see your eyes to realize that you are doubting your words.”
“It’s just this place; it’s screwing with my perception.”
“I have seen males around her just as confounded as you, though by the time they realized their mistakes they’d had their throats cut or intestines spilt to the ground. Where she travels, death follows. And he brings his friends: travesty and destruction.”
“Enough Linnick. I cannot take any more. I have to believe in the woman I know, not this creature that you speak of. I can’t, I won’t believe it until I see it on my own.”
“You should open your eyes then and look around.”
“I will put you down and walk away if you say one more fucking thing. Do you hear me? I came here. Me. My choice, not hers.”
She said nothing, though she nodded. My head was spinning with the potential implications. What kind of web had they spun for me? Was the entire thing from the first cow delivery all a set-up? Had I been the patsy even back then? If so, Tommy and Azile were in it for the long game, knowing full well I never think much beyond what is immediately in front of me. They most certainly could have used that against me. Could Tommy’s death have been staged? Like maybe he wanted to die? Now that I look back on it, he didn’t give much of a struggle for one so powerful. And then what are the odds that we would find each other in purgatory? There would have to be some heavy magic involved to make that happen. But the Green Man…he had that kind of magic, didn’t he?
What about the body preservation thing? How much energy did she expend to do something like that? And for what nefarious reason? I was very much feeling like a puppet that was having every string yanked violently. How did Gabriel work into all of this? It was Tommy that pointed out that baby was special, and sure as shit if that prophecy didn’t come to fruition. Now, come to think of it, pretty fucking coincidental that someone with that much power lived down the road from me. Had been placed there, actually. Linnick said I drew the special ones to me. I was no more than a fishing bobber in a turbulent sea, bobbing around like an idiot wherever the storm took me, tantalizing bait for the really big fish.
“No,” I said aloud. “I’m twisting facts to make your devil’s advocacy sound plausible for whatever self-abusive reason. The Green Man had me; in fact, he has always known pretty much where I am, if that’s what he wanted.” I’d no sooner said the words when I remembered it was never me he wanted, it was Azile. I was a means to an end. Therein lay the real truth; it all made sense. He was the debt collector and her bill was well past due. She said there was a price to be paid for what she did; did she know I was her comeuppance? Or was she trying to use me as her chip, maybe as a way to get rid of those involved; why wouldn’t she just tell me that? I knew who would know. I turned around.
“What are you doing?” Linnick asked.
“I’
m going to see the Green Man.”
“I thought the idea was to stay as far away from him as possible.”
“Yeah, I thought that too, but now that the can of worms has been opened I’m having a hard time shoving them back in. They keep getting cut up on the sharp rim and worm guts are leaking down the outsides and all over my hands. I can hear their little worm-screams as I sever heads and split bodies.”
Linnick was looking at me with her mouth open.
“I’m sorry…do you, do you have worm friends? Did I just insult you?”
“I do not have worm friends; I am merely concerned for your state of mind. If you believe that the Red Witch is trying to entrap you, why would you possibly go toward that which she is using as the snare?”
“Because I know nothing, and I can’t live with this kind of doubt. That’s not the way I work.”
“Yes, once you are captured, tortured, and killed you will have proven your case.”
“I’m doing what I have to.”
“Or what you’ve been told to do.”
“I swear Linnick–you need to give it a rest.”
“I am looking out for your well-being; you still have an opportunity to leave this place.”
“If what you’re saying is true, I have a lesser chance than you. The Red Witch…I mean Azile, my wife, mother of my children, is watching over my body. If she doesn’t want me coming back there’s no chance I could do so.”
“That is a logical statement.”
“Yeah, and now that I’ve said it aloud I feel sick for it. Do you want me to leave you here?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because even if this is not something my wife has laid out for me I am going to meet the Green Man, and he’s a dick.”
“Life or death, Tallboat, I stand with you. You may be my redemption, though that is not why I have chosen to stay with you.”
“I know, I know, you’ve fallen in love with me. Not hard to do, I’ve seen it happen a hundred times before.”
“I would rather mate with a Gordand.”
“I’m taking it that isn’t some sort of god on your world?”
“Worms look down on them.”
“Fine, I’m glad you’re coming as well,” I told her and I meant it. I’d made up my mind to confront Ganlin. If I had any semblance of smarts I would have re-made it and turned the fuck back around. Hopefully, Linnick would survive the encounter and carve out a decent existence in this world.
My mind was running around in circles, simultaneously disproving and validating every argument I had for and against Azile and Tommy. At one point, I was even convinced that my initial rescue of Azile in the semi had all been part of the plan. If that were the case I was so far out of the game I wasn’t even sure what we were playing anymore.
As if Linnick had read my earlier thoughts in regard to her, she spoke. “If we can somehow get past the Guardians to the underworld, there are places in that realm that we could live. It would be bleak and we would not have much, but we would exist.”
“When you say it like that, maybe I should just turn around. Not sure what our kids would look like or how we’d even…you know, do the deed, but I’m always up for a challenge.”
“Please do not be as ugly on the inside as you are on the outside,” she said in all seriousness.
“You know, my wee friend, you’re starting to give me a complex. Verbal abuse can be more painful than physical.”
“Is it wrong to say, if it is the truth?”
“I wonder how much protein your body holds.”
“Rude,” was her reply, but at least she shut up for a while. She was starting to make me feel like Quasimodo’s bastard brother who’d been forced to wear an iron mask because he was deemed “the ugly one.”
Chapter 15
MIKE JOURNAL ENTRY 12
We stopped at some point, just because that seemed the normal thing to do. I suppose I could have walked indefinitely, but I still had reservations about my present course of action. I was about to go get my ass beaten to hopefully prove Linnick wrong, although I was still going to get my ass beaten if she was right. There wasn’t much of an upside, as far as I could tell. If I thought stopping to think on it would help, I was wrong. With all that walking around a desolate landscape, I had dwelt on it even more, twisting scenarios and reassuring myself with fond memories. My rationale began to solidify to continue onward with my destructive course of action.
“Are you fucking me over, Azile?” It hurt to even say the words. I looked down into my pocket, Linnick was curled up sleeping or at least pretending to. She did not respond to my question. In my heart, I knew Linnick was wrong; if she wasn’t, then several of my past lives had been for nothing.
“Hey, fuckface!” I spun my head to the sound of the voice. A monstrous clown was bearing down on me.
“Whoa!” I got up quickly, pretty much in panic mode, putting my hands out in front of me. I’d rather take on a pack of rabid werewolves than have one clown do me a magic trick. And from the looks of this beast, the only thing he wanted to pull out of his hat was my head.
“I know you!” it said, raising an oversized gloved hand and pointing a finger.
“Yeah, I doubt it. I typically avoid your kind.”
“What kind is that?” He was still coming quick and I was backing up.
“Well, I’d like to say assholes, but I tend to attract them more than anything. Clowns, I avoid clowns. You guys are fucked up. That giant red nose and curly red hair coupled with the white face paint and huge red lips and that seizure inducing clothing you tend to wear–just all of it, man. Skeeves me the fuck out wondering what kind of crazy thing is hiding under all that pretend fun. Stephen King wrecked your kind a long time ago; why you didn’t have the good graces to just curl up and fucking die I don’t know. The world would have been a better place for it, that’s for sure.”
“You shot me!”
“I don’t remember ever seeing you in my life, and, uh, trust me, man, you are one thing that would have been burned indelibly into my mushy mind.”
“You were with a big man, colored, I think and no…no it wasn’t you, you were a pussy back then, too. It was your wife that shot me.”
“Listen, friend. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why don’t you go find a little car to pile into then drive it off a cliff into a pool of lava or something…please? Honestly, I’d pay to see that.”
“Friend? Tim doesn’t have any friends!” he roared.
This thing was dangerous. Couldn’t tell if it was a demon or a deranged human under all that freaky make-up. Though they were kind of the same thing, weren’t they? And those teeth, not many people walking around with pointed ones. Though they looked rough enough they could have been filed. I automatically rubbed my tongue against my own pearly whites thinking about the pain and discomfort that would cause.
“Listen…Tim? Tim, you said?”
“Don’t you ever fucking call me Tim-Tim!” I could feel the gale force wind from the yelling of those words.
“I didn’t really call you Tim-Tim. I only called you Tim, Tim.” Yeah, that wasn’t the right thing to say. He started running at me.
“It’s always the bitches that kill me!” he was screaming savagely. “Your little bitch redhead first. Then that bitch blonde, and then that bitch brunette!”
“Got a feeling they were justified,” I said pulling my axe and getting into a fighting stance. He was just blind rage and muscle, I settled that blade deep into his thigh as I spun and moved to the side. Not far enough, as he bowled me over before he fell.
“You cut my leg!” He rolled over to look at the damage. He seemed completely offended that I would defend myself as he tried to avenge some apparent slight it seemed my wife may have committed. He’d somewhat described BT and Tracy and he said he knew me, but if so, it wasn’t from any timeline I was aware of. “You can’t cut my leg!” Even injured he was able to get up as fast as I did, which led me to be
lieve he was more than he seemed. I had him pegged as a clown demon. Who knows what powers they possess?
“Let’s talk about this.” I was stalling. He didn’t seem the type that would hug it out. “I don’t know you and I’m about ninety-five percent sure my wife didn’t shoot you.”
He got low, leading with his head, his eyes upturned now, somehow giving him an even more savage look. “It was in the first few days of the zombie attack. Little pecker kid bit me, turned me into one of those things.”
“That explains your wonderful disposition.” I was circling, not giving him a stationary target, he was turning to match my pace.
“There I was, eating my own business, found an old girlfriend and BLAM! Your asshole wife put a round right in my forehead.”
“When you say it like that I can’t imagine why she would have done that. Right in that giant melon you call a head? Speaking of which, where do you get a wig big enough to cover that dome? And does that make you feel slightly effeminate wearing one?”
“I ain’t no fag!”
“Never said you were and don’t give a shit, you freak. Was just wondering what you thought when you wore things that are more traditionally used by the fairer sex.”
“You sound like her.” He put a hand up to his head as if he were remembering a particularly hurtful memory.
“Who, my wife?”
“Yorley, you fucking twat!” He said it with enough force I thought he was going to renew his attack.
“Listen, Tim, I don’t know Yorley, I don’t know you. I don’t remember ever meeting you. I suggest maybe you go and play out your little psychosis somewhere else.”
“Oh, it was you alright. I think you were trying to talk your way out of it last time too. You see, I remember pussies, every one of them, the ones I fuck and the ones I fuck over.”
“Your social graces are without equal. So where did all of this go down then?”
“San Francisco. And you know that.”
