by Joseph Lallo
Major sighed and walked to an outcrop of rock. He sat 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.
“No,” Samuel said, as he stared at Major, his eyes as solid as the walls of the cavern. “We’re not. 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. “They’re not Lord of the Rings–caliber weapons, but they’ll be enough to get the talisman from your dead body.”
“What if we try slipping three?” Samuel asked. 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. Give me the talisman.”
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 youth and fitness on his side.
“That’s not going to happen so I guess there isn’t much left to say,” Samuel said.
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 before one started. 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’s words 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 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 as Major waited for him to stand. When he did, Major brought the tire iron into Samuel’s midsection, where it struck his ribs. They both 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,” Major said.
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 didn’t see it coming because he was puking. Major 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. 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 footing, Samuel rolled backward to avoid Major’s random flailing weapons. He pulled himself into a sitting position and tried to breathe through the fissures in his ribs. He thought about the countless stories he 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. 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. “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.
Major crawled toward him after placing a lucky throw at the base of Samuel’s neck. Samuel saw dashing lights sparkling in his vision, while his stomach prepared an ejection that would be arriving soon. He tasted the bitter limestone in his throat and blinked it from his eyes. He could see Mara’s feet and he giggled, thinking of the witch’s feet extending from underneath the house in The Wizard of Oz. The movie scene overlaid his perception in the cave as the rock to the back of his head scrambled reality. He dug his nails into the dirt and pulled his body toward Mara. Sounds swirled in his head as he thought he heard music coming from the reversion outside. Guitar riffs traveled on the floaters in his vision as his senses, which had been dulled for so long inside this locality, came alive. He shook his head and spat a glob of saliva into the dirt, where it sat before being absorbed by the dryness of the powder.
Get up, Samuel. Get up now, or Major is going to finish you off an
d leave this locality over two dead bodies. Get up.
He heard the voice in his head as loud as if it were being yelled into his ears. It sounded like everyone and no one at the same time. The voice felt familiar but other-worldly. He managed to turn his body over and blink as his double vision registered two men crawling toward him on their knees, each holding a dagger in his right hand.
Major staggered and stood, using the tire iron as a makeshift crutch. He slumped to one side like a shanty amidst urban decay. He raised the dagger, deciding to use the force of gravity to drive it through Samuel’s chest.
“We are running out of time, my boy. And I don’t think I’ve got another lucky throw in this tired arm.”
Samuel blinked as the blow to his head turned from disorienting to painful. He tasted more dirt in his mouth and hoped to spare a few more seconds until the ringing in his ears subsided enough for him to think.
“You got a hell of an arm,” Samuel said, his words slurred.
Major winced and recalibrated his stand. The tire iron was not long enough to provide the support he needed for his severed tendon. Samuel watched the man’s eyes and knew the pain was dulling his appetite for conversation.
“It’s too bad you weren’t interested in having me as a travel partner. Think we coulda had some times,” Major said.
Samuel watched as the dagger came up higher. Major bent his knees like a swimmer on the block, waiting for the sound of the starter pistol. Samuel gripped Scout in his right hand, where cold sweat gathered along with the adrenaline.
Major leapt forward and brought the dagger down. He landed on top of Samuel, their eyes meeting. Their bodies remained motionless like lovers in an embrace. Neither spoke. Major’s mouth opened, but blood flowed from it instead of words. Samuel looked to his right where Major’s dagger stuck in the hard ground of the cave. He felt the warm trickle surrounding the hand that held Scout firmly lodged in Major’s chest. Samuel shifted his weight to the left and rolled, pushing Major’s body off his own. He left Scout inside Major, no longer feeling it served any purpose for him. The old man blinked, his hand resting on the hilt of the knife.
“I tried. I really tried. If you had just stayed there.”
Major coughed, spurting blood over his lips and down his chin. He let out a low cackle and shook his head back and forth. “Let yer conscience go, son. This is how I was going out, not banished to another locality like some surly teenager sent to his room.” Another wracking cough made Major stop. His ragged breathing reduced his speech to mere whispers.
“I’ve gotta check on Mara,” Samuel said, running a hand through his hair. When he looked back at Major, the man’s eyes remained open in the long, glassy stare of the dead.
Samuel pushed away. His injured leg felt like a thousand pounds, and he continued to fight through double vision. Major’s words echoed in his head, forcing Samuel to think of his own childhood and all of the expectations he could never fulfill. He began to cry, a few tears at first, until he sobbed. The reversion continued to creep into the cave, unaware of his tender, emotional state.
“Goddammit,” he said to nobody in particular.
Samuel knelt and looked back at Major. The man’s corpse remained unchanged, his right hand wrapped around the handle of the blade that had stolen his life essence. Samuel looked over to Mara and couldn’t tell if her chest was moving.
He felt the air pressure inside the cave change. The billowing cloud that had roiled overhead when he first arrived in the cursed forest had descended to nibble on the tips of the trees. He remembered it eating the light from the sky as it moved west to east. Samuel tried to calculate the number of days he spent in this locality, but he came up with nothing but a head-shaking guess, as if he were cataloging the events of a distant dream. Now, the cloud blotted out the entrance to the cave in a swirling mass of dark matter. It looked like a heavy, black velour curtain hung behind the walls, sealing the intestines of the mountain off from the carnage brought by the reversion.
A constant humming came through the stone. It drew an energy through Samuel that reverberated in his ears. It felt almost electrical, as if a microphone started to feedback through a mismanaged speaker system. His other senses began to awaken as well. Samuel could smell the dank limestone mixed with the scent of human blood. He felt the sticky dampness on the back of his head, and licked the coppery blood from a gash on his hand. His injuries came alive, each demanding attention from his brain, which continued to function through the head trauma. He was not sure why the reversion would provide a final burst of brain activity as it extinguished what remained. Samuel pictured a video from a science class in middle school. He could see the crude animation representing a supernova. The star swelled, and the intensity of its glare brightened beyond its capacity to sustain the millions of molecular activities taking place in its core. Samuel remembered how the dying star bathed the surrounding void of space with brilliant light before it contracted upon itself. He shuddered at the thought of the implosion that would eventually create a black hole, a negative energy so strong that not even light would escape its grasp. Whether or not he believed he could escape, Samuel chuckled at the thought of the reversion sweeping through this world, turning it into a real black hole.
He shook his head and shuffled toward Mara. Samuel did not think she had moved since he fought with Major. He knelt down at her feet, collapsing to his knees. The vibrations coming through the cave walls intensified and began to pressurize his ears. He opened his mouth wide and held his nose while exhaling, trying to release the pressure as if he were on a commercial airliner.
“Samuel?”
He flinched and looked up from the ground. Mara’s eyes fluttered in the dying light. Samuel reached for her hand.
“Hold me,” she said.
***
Samuel waited longer than was necessary. Mara gasped, inhaling the air as if it were full of thorny barbs. He glanced back at Major’s body before smiling at her.
“He attacked me. Threatened to kill me and find the talisman on my body.”
She nodded. “He’s gone?” she asked.
Now it was Samuel’s turn to nod.
“The cloud? The reversion?”
“Clamping down.”
Samuel told Mara about how the reversion threatened to consume the mountain and cave the way it had everything else.
“What now?” she asked.
Samuel paused and drew a deep breath.
“I opened that portal for Major. Not sure how, but it opened, and I know I could get us in it.”
Mara shook her head. He could see the pain in her eyes and the struggle it took for her to move even that much.
“Not me, Samuel. I won’t be going.”
“Don’t say that. Who knows what could happen to the wounds you suffered in this locality, at the hands of this reversion? They could disappear entirely.”
She shook her head again, raising her right hand to let her fingers trail down the side of Samuel’s cheek. He looked into her face and accepted the situation.
“So you lie here and die? Is that the plan?”
“At least one more time,” she said. When Samuel began to ask her what she meant, she placed a finger over his mouth. “There isn’t enough time for me to give you what you want. But there are some things we need to finish.”
Samuel nodded. He slipped a hand into his pocket, his mind already wondering which of the items he carried was the talisman. His ticket out of one dying world and into another.
“I’m on my own cycle. Ours happened to overlap, but they’re distinct.”
Samuel nodded, watching the strain the conversation had on Mara’s strength. “You’ve been here before,” he said.
“I have,” she said, her eyes scanning the cavern.
“And the others?” Samuel asked. He looked over his shoulder. “Him? Kole?”
“Sometimes. Not always,” she said.
Samuel nodded aga
in, waiting.
The darkness from the reversion crept closer to where they sat in the recess of the main cavern. The shapeless and soundless monster oozed through the entrance, taking gulps of stone and stalagmites. They watched it spread across the floor like twilight seen from space. The air inside the cave became still, suffocating. The cloud dissipated the water and stole the ambient light from within.
“When I was a little girl, I loved sitting on my dad’s lap. We’d watch television or sometimes read a book. It didn’t matter. What I remember is that feeling of being safe, secure, loved. I would curl up on his chest and the rest of the world would melt away. It wasn’t long before pre-adolescence ended that feeling forever. But I lived to recapture it, and at times, I did. It might be a fleeting look of a lover or the comfort of a blanket on a frigid winter’s night, but I collected those.”
Samuel waited, feeling as though none of the words Mara used could be wasted.
“Whether you’re the giver or the recipient of those moments, you must find them too, Samuel. I need you to live wholeheartedly. I want you to promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll seek those out, relish them and give others the opportunity to do so as well. You are worthy of your existence. What you bring to the world matters. And that light cannot be snuffed by a cave, or a cloud, or a reversion.”
Samuel laughed with Mara. “Don’t forget the undead hordes.”
It was her turn to smile.
“You and I have something unfinished,” Mara said. “I need you to know it’s not pleasant for either of us, but it must happen before the reversion in this place ends.”
“Anything,” he said. “I’ll do anything for you after all of the pain I’ve caused.”
She shook her head. “You were not the cause of my pain. You helped define my path, that’s all.”
“Euphemisms,” he said.
“Truth,” she said.
Samuel shivered. The spreading gloom crawled up the walls like the animated shadows of an old horror film. He saw tendrils of black spreading across the face of the limestone while more of the physical space fell into the spreading void.
