by J. Thorn
“Sauerkraut?” Major asked Samuel. He handed a can to Samuel while using two fingers to dig into his own.
“Cabbage of some sort, right?”
Major nodded while shoving more of the wet, cold breakfast into his mouth. Samuel scooped up a handful and felt the consistency of the substance, detecting a hint of salt, but the sensation dissipated until he was left eating a tasteless, odorless meal.
“I thought I remembered sauerkraut being really strong.”
“You’ll get those feelings or intuitions the longer you’re here. It’s like your mind slowly unrolls them for you so your psyche isn’t run over by the flood of data.”
Samuel let the comment roll around toward the back of his head. “Why isn’t this cabbage strong? Why can’t I smell it or taste it?”
Samuel stopped and cocked his head sideways.
“I don’t know, either,” said Major. “I mean, I can feel it. I know you have, too. Things here feel like they’re not quite 100 percent. You know what I mean. Just look at the tint of any flame you light here. It’s always off, some shade of yellow or green. The sun, the odors, my taste buds. None of them operate at full speed. This locality feels like it’s at 60 percent.”
Major smiled while Samuel remained staring at the floor.
“Each locality seems to have distinct traits that could be unique, but vary from one to the other. But they all keep a thread that unifies them. Like our blind men chasing the lion, they’ll never grab a beak or a fin. They could grab a stub of an amputated tail or half of an ear that was bitten off in a fight, but it will always be lion-like. Never not lion-like.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“Neither do I, but you get used to it with each passing cycle. Eat your sauerkraut. We need to get out of this cabin before Wolfman Jack and his crew come back to finish you off.”
The two men finished their meal and sat on the floor of the cabin while their stomachs rumbled in protest. Samuel glanced at the framed photograph leaning against the wall. Major nodded toward the nail.
“Can’t hurt to put it back,” Major said.
Samuel stood and replaced the photograph on the wall. He stepped back and looked again, and he nudged the corner up until the frame hung straight.
“That shit pops up everywhere.”
“What does?”
“Reflections. These little reminders of other localities. They don’t ever seem to be as vibrant as the originals. That’s why I call them reflections.”
Samuel nodded.
“And there’s no point in trying to take the reflections with you. Your attention will be somewhere else, and when you look back, the reflection will be gone. I know you considered rolling that photo up and tucking it in your waistband, but you’d end up with nothing but a blank piece of photo paper sooner than you’d realize. Best to leave it here and not torture yourself with it.”
“Where to?” Samuel asked. He dusted his pants off and faced away from the photograph.
“I’ve got a feeling someone who can help us has popped out. He’s at least a two-day hike from here, and through some pretty tough shit. Gonna make the fight with those wolves seem like walking your dog in the park. Plus, I’ve got two other friends I’d like you to meet.”
Samuel raised his eyebrows. “Or I could sit in this cabin, staring at the reflection on the wall while waiting for death.”
“Something like that,” replied Major.
***
“I hope Major finds him before the wolves tear him apart,” said Mara.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass. About Major, newbies, or the wolves,” replied Kole.
Mara tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shook her head at him. “Of course you do, Kole. You know Major can’t slip on his own. At least not where he wants to be. He’s going to lay that charm on anyone he has to in order to get what he wants.”
“And how is that any different than what happens in the real world? I’ve had many people turn on me; men I thought were friends but were really out for their own asses.”
Mara shrugged. “You have to trust somebody. As long as you know Major will sell you out to get what he wants, what’s the big deal?”
Kole shrugged off Mara’s question. “I’m not the one making a big deal about Major, am I?” He rubbed a hand across the tattoo sleeve on his right arm, trying hard to remain focused on the conversation he’d had with Mara dozens of times already. “Maybe you have a good reason to get back to whatever life you had, but I don’t. I’m just as happy to stay here and let the cloud eat me.”
Mara gave up, tired of the posturing Kole used to end all of their conversations. “Major is looking for someone or something. It’s his only hope, and I feel like it’s mine as well.”
“Whatever,” replied Kole.
Mara rolled her eyes, mildly surprised that Kole had paid attention long enough to give his disinterested reply.
Chapter 6
The next morning, Samuel found Major sitting on the same chair, rubbing a sharpening stone over multiple blades. The rhythmic scraping sound annoyed him. The meager light penetrating the slate skies had returned, signaling a faint resemblance to the mornings of Samuel’s old life. He reached up to his neck and let his fingers trace the interlocking spirals of the medallion hanging from the leather string.
“What’s that?” asked Major, his eyes making contact with Samuel’s while the sharpening stone continued working on the blade of a curved knife.
“A triskelion. Some call it a triskele.”
Samuel hesitated, surprised that the information was so readily available to his brain. Major saw the look on his face.
“That reflection on the wall is starting to jar things loose. Go ahead. I’m sure you can recall what it is and why you’re wearing it. I’d like to hear about that.”
Samuel paused and closed his eyes. He could feel the triskelion on his neck and felt the knowledge seeping back into his head.
“They’re not sure where it came from, but most archaeologists date it to the European Iron Age, Celtic in origin.”
“Sounds like you know what you’re talking about,” Major said as he smiled. “Go on.”
“They had some evidence that the symbol was used for a very long time, as early as the Greek and Mycenaean civilizations centuries earlier, but the Europeans assimilated it. Wales, Brittany, they all used a variation of the form.”
Major waited as the blade slid back and forth across the stone.
“QUOCUNQUE JECERIS STABIT—wherever you throw it, it will stand.”
“Latin, right?” asked Major.
“Yes. It’s a motto on a coat of arms. Olaf the Black.”
Samuel stopped and rubbed his head. It felt as though a door had opened, one he had struggled to pry loose from the rusty hinges of his damaged mind.
“Historian? Archaeologist? Maybe you just read a lot,” said Major.
“Yeah, could be,” replied Samuel before continuing. “The Nazis corrupted a version for the Third Reich. I think it represents timeless human symbolism, like the cross.”
Samuel stopped as the flow of information behind the door became discovered, catalogued. There was nothing more to unearth, at least during this conversation.
“Nazis. I’ve seen reflections of them, too. Mostly the swastika on armbands or officer caps. Not much more.”
“Where did you see this stuff?” asked Samuel.
Major shook his head. “My blades are sharp. Got your stuff together?”
***
The two men stepped out of the cabin and back into their previous locality. Samuel drew a deep breath and noted that he could no longer smell the pine needles underfoot. The forest felt as silent as a snowstorm blanketing the landscape. Even the air felt dead on his skin. He detected an absence of temperature, as if the locality existed in a vacuum.
Major looked down into the valley and then back toward the summit, which stuck out over the chimney of the cabin. He secured his belt and s
heath over his left hip, and he pulled the black headband down over his forehead and nodded at Samuel.
“Reversion.”
Samuel stared at Major and shrugged his shoulders.
“We’ll have a lot of time to talk during the hike. I’d rather set off now before the alpha male returns.”
“Is that why this place doesn’t have odors, sounds?”
“I think so. This locality is in a Reversion. Rewind. It’s ‘undoing’ itself. Let’s go.”
Before Samuel could reply, a lone howl pierced the atmosphere and raised the hairs on his neck.
“Guess we won’t have to wait long, after all,” said Major. “Your biggest fan is back.”
***
The wolf glared at the hunters by his side. The females and cubs would remain behind. He would not be hampered during the hunt.
They set forth.
The other hunters snapped and paced in circles.
Yes. Now there are two. The old man has returned seeking his escape. We are not to allow either, as He has spoken. Take the elder down first.
The alpha male trotted to the edge of the clearing and looked over his shoulder. The other hunters followed with a burning hunger in their stomachs.
The pack wound through the trees until the forest thinned with the rising elevation. Their sinewy bodies moved through the underbrush in silence, the leaves no longer rustling in the stillness of the air. When the alpha male crested the last rise, he could see the tip of the chimney protruding from the top of the cabin.
They wait for us.
He broke into an even-paced run, with seven hunters in line behind him.
***
“They will always go for the throat,” said Major.
“Are they reflections?” asked Samuel.
“I’m not sure, and I don’t want to find out the hard way. They want you, not me, but they will attack anything that gets in their way. If they are sentient creatures, they no doubt feel the Reversion like we do. They’re in self-preservation mode, and that means they will fight to the death.”
Samuel drew a deep breath and nodded. Major shoved his hand underneath his coat and removed another curved blade. He squeezed the blunt edge between his thumb and forefinger and spun the handle toward Samuel in one motion.
“Ever use one of these?” he asked.
“Maybe,” replied Samuel. “I can’t quite remember.”
“The early Arabs called it a scimitar.”
“Sounds like you have some history in your background as well,” said Samuel.
Major ignored the comment and continued. “They’re designed to be light and used to slash in a diagonal direction, not a stabbing motion. If you strike across the muzzles of the wolves, you’ll make it impossible for them to clamp their jaws on your throat.”
That visual made Samuel shudder.
“And the blade is extremely sharp. Remember that on your follow through.”
Samuel nodded in agreement. “What happened to your shotgun?”
“This,” replied Major, holding two empty shell cases in the palm of his hand. “No sporting-goods stores around here.”
“What’s our strategy against the pack?” Samuel asked. “What’s the best way to take them out?”
“I have no idea,” replied Major. “I’ve never fought a wolf before.”
Before Samuel could respond or find a way to deal with his fear, the alpha male appeared from the edge of the tree line. The creature strutted up the slope with several hunters following him. His feral, yellow eyes never left Samuel. They seemed to float through the thick blanket of perpetual dusk that draped this locality.
***
The men stood shoulder to shoulder with their weapons drawn. A bead of sweat rolled down Samuel’s nose and dropped to his upper lip as they watched the wolves trot toward the cabin. The wolves knew that their prey would not run or lock themselves in the structure this time.
The young one is mine.
The other hunters whined and gathered to the left of the alpha male. They spread out until they formed an arc that faced the old one, and the alpha male fanned out to the right until his trajectory aligned with the young one. They stopped twenty yards from the cabin. Several of the wolves snarled and began throwing their heads toward the sky. The alpha male felt the lunar itch. He searched the heavens for the celestial body, but could not locate it. Millions of years of evolution, interrupted by the Reversion, left him feeling out of sync, distraught. He shook his head and picked up the pace toward his prey.
***
“I’m ready.”
“You’d better be,” replied Major. “The alpha male wants you all for himself.”
Before Samuel could say another word, he saw the rest of the pack spring into a run toward Major. Through the corner of his eye, he saw a blaze of fur, teeth, and those yellow eyes. Major bent his knees and raised his arms, ready to slash at the first beasts to reach him.
Samuel glanced back and noticed that the alpha male had closed the gap and was within an arm’s reach of him. He dropped to his knees and raised the scimitar as the alpha male lunged over his head. He felt the movement of air caused by the beast and rolled over. Samuel jumped and spun in the opposite direction as the wolf came back at him. The creature paused and bared its teeth, and Samuel felt a stabbing pain in the middle of his head. Pressing a palm to his forehead, he could feel the existence of another inside, like a cancerous intruder.
I must devour you. I must honor His command or I will die with this world.
Samuel felt the words enter his mind rather than his ears. He blinked and looked at the alpha male.
“Why?” he asked.
You are my reflection.
Samuel shook his head and raised the knife to a defensive position. The alpha male took three long strides forward and stopped. He bared his teeth at Samuel before darting off in the other direction, toward the rest of the pack surrounding Major.
The other hunters pushed Major back against the rear wall of the cabin. He stood with a knife in each hand and a wicked smile on his face. The wolves, ears up, pinned him there until the alpha male came up from behind.
“I’m waiting,” Major said to the wolves.
Take him.
The hunters lunged forward. One locked its jaw around Major’s ankle while another reeled back from the slash that opened its throat. The wolf died before it hit the ground. Another wolf bit into Major’s left arm while two more flanked the alpha male. Major brought the blade in his right hand across his body until it slashed the muzzle of the wolf on his arm. He heard a whine and felt the pressure release on his wrist, followed by the warming pain of torn flesh. He used the heel of one boot and brought it down on top of the head of the wolf latching to his ankle. The animal let his leg loose and stumbled into the wall of the cabin.
The alpha male howled, and his two sentries ran at Major. One leapt at his throat while the other bit at the injured ankle. Major cried out as the wolf’s teeth snapped at his chin. He turned in toward the cabin wall in a desperate attempt to knock the animals loose. When Major dropped to his knees, the alpha male came forward. He opened his mouth, and his eyes flared yellow in the disappearing light. The wolf reared back on its hind legs, ready to lunge.
Samuel came around the corner as the alpha male leapt at Major. He felt his breath catch as he realized that when the wolf finished with Major, he would be next. Major caught the wolf on his chest, with the weight of the beast spinning him to one side and knocking him backward over a downed tree limb. The mixture of man and beast rolled to a stop. Samuel had his hands around the wolf’s neck, his fingers gripping fur while the alpha male snapped at his face. With his upper body pointing down the slope, Samuel brought both legs up and in front of the alpha male until the back of his calves rested on the wolf’s head. In one motion, he brought his legs back, heels first, driving the beast to the ground. Samuel heard the yelp and the cracking of bone on the hard earth, and he stood and kicked the alpha male in the ribs
. He felt a surge of adrenaline at the beast’s cry and realized there was hope. The wolf jumped up and ran toward the tree line with one rear leg dangling in painful limbo.
As he watched the alpha male run, Samuel began to pursue the beast before he heard another scream from Major. He winced as the white underside of the alpha male’s tail disappeared beyond his sight.
We are not finished.
Samuel felt threatened by the thought, but he had to put it aside for now. He spun and ran around the cabin until he saw two wolves wrestling with Major’s arms. He grabbed one by the mane and realized his knife had fallen during the skirmish with the alpha male. The glimmering blade rested near one of the steps, and Samuel lunged for it and spun with the sharp edge out, slicing an ear off the attacking wolf. The animal cried out and scratched at the stump with one paw. Samuel knelt and sliced horizontally through the air, his blade cutting through the mangy fur and major arteries of the wolf. It flopped to the ground while blood poured from its neck. By this time, Major had maneuvered on top of the last remaining hunter and had his knife raised high, ready for the plunge.
Samuel took a step closer, staring at the carnage left by the battle with the pack. When he bent down to examine the tail of one wolf, another memory filled his head.
“He’s gone now, honey,” came the smooth, reassuring voice of his mother.
“Where?” asked Samuel, a boy of five in the memory.
“Up to heaven, with God.”
Samuel squeezed his wolfie doll tight. He inhaled the scent of stuffed animal and the smell of his bedsheets.
“Maybe Grandpa wants wolfie doll with him.”
Samuel’s mother smiled. She dabbed the corner of each eye with a balled tissue.
“He’d want you to keep wolfie, hon. Grandpa won’t need him in heaven. God will give him everything he needs.”
Samuel nodded. He looked down again at the corpse of his grandfather lying in the casket. The white, satin lining made it appear as though the man was floating within a cloud. Samuel noticed the wedding ring and yellow, tobacco-stained fingertips of the man who had always given him spare nickels pulled from his pockets. Samuel thought about the way the coins felt warm in his palm.
