by J. Thorn
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with either of them,” said Samuel.
“Neither do I,” replied Deva.
Samuel stood and kicked at the limestone powder coating the cavern floor. He put his hands over his head and rested them on top.
“Major’s gone,” he said.
“He’s coming back” replied Deva.
“What about the horde?”
“They were to bring you to this moment, this place. That is why they no longer serve the locality.”
“The alpha male and his hunters too?”
Deva shook his head but did not elaborate.
“When the moment arrives, you will fulfill your dharmic responsibility, or you will be reborn in the cycle that is tied to your fate. It is how the universe will be. It is how it has always been.”
Samuel felt the blood rush to his face. He dug his nails into his palms.
“That doesn’t explain shit!”
“Who owes you an explanation?”
The question knocked Samuel askew, like a punch to the jaw.
“Then there doesn’t seem to be much of a reason for you and me to be talking.”
Samuel turned his back on Deva and walked toward Mara.
“There is one more thing.”
Samuel stopped and looked over one shoulder. Deva waited, unmoving. Samuel turned and came back to stand in front of the undead creature.
“The old man. Major. He will return soon, and if you do not defeat him, your soul will be lost to this locality, destroyed by this Reversion.”
“I thought I already did that. I dropped him through the portal and shut it.”
Deva shook his head back and forth.
“His dharma binds him to this locality, like you. He is coming back, and you must face him.”
Samuel spotted the club on the ground and reached for it. Deva kicked at it, the stick clanking off the rocks as it skittered into a dark recess.
“You’ll need a weapon with dharmic power. That will not suffice against the man.”
Samuel waited, anticipating more from Deva.
“We are bound, Samuel. Our forces have unresolved energy that will carry through this cycle.”
Samuel stood, trying to decipher Deva’s cryptic speech. Before he could ask the creature a question, Deva extended his arm. Samuel saw the strips of fabric and flesh dangling from the bone. Deva turned his palm upward and opened his hand. There, glistening in the reflected light, sat the Scout, the knife Samuel had buried in his father’s coffin, and the one that had returned briefly to this locality. He grabbed it from Deva’s palm and then bowed out of respect.
Chapter 16
Mara heard Samuel speaking as if he were under water. She identified a second voice, but could not recognize it. Her body ached, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep, but the pain would not allow it. She listened to the cadence and rhythm of the conversation without comprehending it.
The cave began to take on a shimmering light. She felt an energy pulsing through the rock and running through her entire body. It was not until she opened her eyes that she recognized the power.
The floor opened like the gaping maw of a fantastic beast. The darkness swirled about the portal like water pulled down a drain. The image in front of her resurrected long-lost lectures in science class about dark matter and black holes, immense voids that would not allow anything to escape their gravitational pulls.
She tried to scream out, to warn Samuel, but the force burrowing through the floor of the cave stole her words. She writhed in pain, moaning in a vain attempt to attract his attention.
Mara pushed herself up onto her elbows. Her head felt light and unstable, as if it could roll off her shoulders at any time. She squinted at the cave entrance until two forms materialized in her vision. After blinking, one remained, and it moved toward her. She could feel Samuel’s presence at the same time the black hole continued its rapid expansion inside the cave.
The water that flowed down the cave walls stopped and dried. Chunks of stalactite broke free from the hidden ceiling and crashed down to the floor like arrows of stone. The entire cave moved as if shaken by an unseen hand. Even the ambient light in the cavern pulsed and faded as if a malevolent force worked to extinguish what meager warmth it provided. The floor of the cave thrummed, and Mara caught a whiff of sulfur so overpowering in the sensory deprivation of the locality that it caused her to dry heave. Her ears detected a hum that increased in intensity until it became nothing but a wall of excruciating sound threatening to split her skull in two. She grimaced and placed her hands over her ears while rolling in the dirt. Mara wished for the pain to end as the black hole expanded. The edge crawled closer to her corner of the subterranean room. Mara passed out. Samuel stood, his feet riveted, as the portal ejected a man from within.
“‘Sup, Sammyboy?” Major asked.
Samuel looked at Mara and then back to Major. He stood on the edge of the portal, which danced with blue and purple light. The headband and overcoat remained intact, but Samuel thought Major looked tired, worn out. When he looked back to Deva, the creature was gone. Samuel felt the handle of the knife in his hand and knew it was not a reflection or a visual construct of the powers in the cave.
“You didn’t think pushing me through there was the end for ol’ Major now, did ya?”
“This isn’t about you,” Samuel replied.
“Oh, I think it is. See, you tried offing me, boy. I’ve spent enough time around thugs and killers to know when that happens. You didn’t give me a Columbian necktie or a pair of concrete shoes, but you tried doing me just the same.”
“Mara is hurt bad. I don’t know what to do.”
“Fuck her, and fuck you. I don’t really care what happens to you or your little girl. I need you to slip us both into a brandy-new locality before that cloud outside tears up this cave like it’s done everything else. Nobody I met here in this place got the mojo you do, boy.”
Samuel squinted and raised an eyebrow.
“Ah! You haven’t been outdoors in a while, have you? C’mon and take a look. I won’t bite.”
Major stepped away from the portal. He held an arm out toward the entrance of the cave like a bouncer at an exclusive club. Samuel looked at him and then back to Mara.
“Seriously. She’s as good as dead. You and I got unfinished business. Frankly, I don’t care what you do with her.”
Samuel nodded and walked toward the entrance to the cave as if he approached the edge of the roof of a city skyscraper. He felt the empty blackness before he reached the threshold.
Samuel remembered the military videos he had seen in his youth, the ones filmed in the American Southwest during atomic-bomb trials. This scene reminded him of that.
The cloud had lifted somewhat, which allowed a view of the landscape across the field, and all the way to the base of the mountain in the distance. Most of the trees lay on their sides, with gnarled root balls jutting from holes in the soil. The swaying wheat from the field lay flat like the massive crop circles that appeared in England. Even the mountain in the distance appeared bare, tired and lonely like a hunchbacked man waiting for death. Between the surface and the bottom of the cloud hung light, much like the light generated inside the cave. It gave Samuel enough to see the landscape, as if it were created with software for a child’s movie about fairy tales gone horribly wrong. The movement inside the dark cloud coalesced into silvery streaks of motion that resembled serpents. Samuel thought of all of the ancient myths about flying, feathered snakes, and now thought those old ones to be a bit less foolish. Silent lightning bounced between spots in the cloud, while the air felt heavy and still at the surface. Samuel scanned as far as he could see, but detected no life. The wolves were hiding or already eaten by the cloud, and the horde, along with Deva, did not show their faces if they even still remained in the locality. Samuel regained a sliver of his sense of smell, although he wished he had not. The dying world smelled that way. He tried not to breath
e in the air that tasted like cold, wet cigarettes. As he stood, gazing upon a world that was never his, the cloud inched closer to the surface in a slow, methodical descent.
“The last phase. Seen it a few times, closer than I care to admit. Luckily we got you, so you and I can sell our front-row seats to the shit-storm.”
Samuel turned and saw the spreading smile on Major’s face. He wanted nothing more than to pummel that look from his skull, but knew that Major would not let that happen. He had come back from the banishment in the portal, and he had knowledge about this that Samuel did not.
“What happens when the final curtain comes down?”
“Not really sure,” replied Major. “Heard some stories in other localities, but it’s always hard to verify. Not like someone’s gonna get video of it on their phone, right?”
The reference to the ordinary made Samuel wince. He thought about the phone, the television, the car, and all of the other supremely boring everyday items in his life, and he wanted nothing more than to feel that again. It was not the extreme high points he missed while being abandoned in this locality, but the little stuff. He wondered if he would ever have that chance again. He dreamed about standing on a frost-covered driveway in the bright sun of a February morning. He smiled when picturing the brilliant green of the lawn in the first few weeks of spring. He could almost taste the bitter jolt of a hot cup of French-roast coffee.
“You with me, pardner?”
Samuel nodded.
“I’d love to stand hear and watch the world die like they sang about in that Everclear song, but I don’t want to go down the drain.”
The pop-culture reference was another dagger in Samuel’s heart. He remembered how much he missed his music, even the free stuff he received from friends.
“I’ll hear you out.”
“Damn straight. Not like I’m giving you a choice. I’m being a gentleman.”
Samuel huffed at Major’s self-proclamation.
“We both know you can open the portal. We both know you can slip, with my help. We both know that there ain’t much time left before the cloud sucks this place dry. But only one of us knows that the girl’s gotta be left behind.”
“I can’t do that,” replied Samuel.
“You’re going to have to, son. I ain’t never seen someone slip more than one other person, and I sure as hell ain’t getting left behind. Again.”
“So you leave her here to die?”
“She’s already dead, brother. Don’t ya get it?”
Samuel shook his head. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“Where do you think you are? This ain’t Wyoming or Montana or some other heavenly wilderness.”
Mara moaned. Samuel looked at her and then back to Major.
Major sighed and walked to an outcrop of rock. He sat down on it and put his head in his hands. The old man looked out of the cave and back at Samuel, shaking his head.
“I guess we ain’t getting where I thought we would. You sure you’re not willing to slip her out of here all by her lonesome?”
“No,” said Samuel as he stared at Major, his eyes as solid as the walls of the cavern. “I’ve got another plan. I spoke with Deva.”
Major laughed, slapping his knee with one hand. “Deva? What the fuck is that? You talking to Aretha or Mariah out here?”
Samuel waited for Major’s snickers to die off before continuing. “I think he might control the horde.”
“Nobody controls the horde, son. Just because the storm is coming doesn’t mean I can claim I sent it.” Major stood and brushed the front of his overcoat. “I’d love to continue your education, but I seriously don’t give a rat’s ass about it. We need to slip from this place before it’s too late. If you can’t do that with me, I’m just as happy to go it alone.”
Major pulled a dagger from underneath his coat. In the other hand he held a tire iron. “It’s not Lord of the Rings–caliber weapons, but it’ll be enough to get the talisman from your dead body.”
“What if we try slipping three?” asked Samuel. He had to resolve the action he was about to take by exhausting all possibilities first.
“Cloud ain’t gonna wait for us to talk through this like a couple of grade-school girlies. You either slip me or I’m going to do it myself. I don’t think I’ve got the accuracy that you do, but at this point, any locality would be better than this one.”
Samuel looked down at the knife in his palm. He felt the familiar texture of the handle and the weight of it. He knew the blade was no match for the dagger in Major’s hand, but he had age and fitness on his side.
“Then I guess there isn’t much left to say,” said Samuel.
Major nodded and spread his feet shoulder-width apart. He crouched low, his beady eyes peering from beneath the edge of his headband. Major held the dagger in front of his face while the tire iron dangled from his other hand.
Samuel gripped Scout in his hand and took a step toward Major. He looked at the old man’s face and waited, giving one last pause. Samuel had not been in many fistfights as a kid, but he could never forget the concoction of fear, anxiety, and adrenaline that surged through his veins prior to the beginning of a physical altercation. He felt his tongue stiffen in a dry mouth, and the muscles in both his arms twitched. When Major shook his head, Samuel knew the time for negotiations had ended.
Major swung the dagger in a lazy arc, cutting the air with the sharpened blade. He brought it back and forth, carving a safe space between him and Samuel. The tire iron waited, the cold metal knowing the time for bashing would come soon enough. Samuel stepped closer, keeping his blade upright in a defensive block, although he thought one full swing from Major’s dagger would break his own blade. He bent down to pick up a rock in his left hand.
“You’re desperate, boy. Last chance.”
Samuel ignored Major and swung hard, with his fist closed around the knife. Major stepped back to dodge it and came around with a kick to Samuel’s knee. The blow from his boot to Samuel’s injured leg made him wince. Major watched as he dropped the rock to grab the damaged ligaments. When Samuel squatted, Major came across his shoulder with the tire iron. Samuel fell sideways, and his head crashed into the powdery dirt of the cavern floor. The tire iron felt like it had cut a burning hole in his shoulder, which helped to distract him from the pain in his leg.
Major stepped back and waited. Samuel writhed on the ground, biting his tongue to keep his cries from filling the cave. Major waited for Samuel to stand. When he did, Major brought the tire iron into Samuel’s midsection, where it struck his ribs. Major heard the bones crack before Samuel felt the searing pain. Samuel doubled over and dropped Scout on the ground.
Major stood and straightened his back. He glanced at the entrance to the cave, looked at Mara’s still body, and then at the back of Samuel’s head, now curling in toward his knees as he lay in a fetal position on the ground.
“There ain’t much time left. If you don’t slip us now, I’m going to kill you and take my chances flying solo.”
Samuel lifted his head. He looked at Major’s eyes through a wall of silent tears but did not respond.
“So be it,” replied Major.
He brought the tire iron up above his head, lining up the back of Samuel’s skull. As he held it aloft, Samuel flipped over and threw the rock into Major’s groin. The old man let out a muffled cry as the chunk of limestone collided with his most sensitive area, causing him to drop his arm but not the tire iron. Major staggered backward as the blow stole all of the breath from his lungs. He turned sideways to spew what little remained inside his stomach.
Samuel recognized the lull as his last opportunity to survive the fight. He pushed himself up into a hunched position, willing his injured leg to withstand the weight of his body. He drew his good knee back and drove it upward into Major’s abdomen. The old man fell backward into the dirt, as did Samuel when his leg gave out under the strain. Samuel crawled closer and spotted Scout in the dirt. His fingers clenched
the handle of the blade. Samuel aimed the point at the back of Major’s right leg, and he reached forward and sliced across the back of Major’s boot, just above his heel, severing the Achilles tendon. Major screamed and dropped his weapons as his hands went toward the wound.
Feeling on somewhat more equal terms, Samuel rolled backward to avoid a random flailing of weapons by Major. He pulled himself into a sitting position and tried to breathe through the fissures in his ribs. He thought about the countless stories he had heard about hand-to-hand combat where a broken rib punctured a lung and the combatant drowned in his own blood. Samuel rubbed his hand along his side, hoping the pointy bones were not poised to do the same to him.
Major could not hold back his cries. He blinked, determined not to let the pain overtake him and force unconsciousness. The thudding force in his abdomen caused several more dry heaves, while the burning pain above his heel made it difficult to even roll over. Major reached for his dagger and brought it to his chest while forcing himself over onto his back. He used his palms to push up into a sitting position, with the cave wall supporting his back.
Samuel rose to his knees and then to his feet as his injured leg threatened to send him crashing into the floor of the cavern. He held Scout in his hand and locked eyes with Major.
“I guess this is how it’s going to end for you,” he said to the old man.
Major shook his head back and forth. “The girl. I think she may have stopped breathing.”
Samuel looked over his shoulder at Mara. He had a hard time making out her form as the cloud descended even farther, the blackness spilling inside the cave like slow-moving, black ooze.
“Look. Her chest isn’t moving.”
Samuel shook his head and screamed. The cry of frustration filled the cavern and reverberated throughout the passages. He looked at Major and then turned to check on Mara.
The sudden jolt of pain delivered to the back of Samuel’s head knocked him to the ground. Before his body crashed into the stone, he regretted turning his back on a wounded animal.
