by Mark Tufo
With the creek running off to the side, I push my way up the last part of the hill. The low sun is peeking through the trees, and I’ll have a couple of hours to rest before night hits. Early in the morning tomorrow, I’ll set out inland. My plan is to keep to the hills for as long as they last so I can avoid whatever is traveling in those hearses. For now, though, I’ll settle in and grab a bite in peace. At least I have food and water.
Through the last of the trees I glimpse the small meadow bathed in the golden glow of the closing day. I stop short, leaning to the left and right to make sure of what I’m seeing. Or actually, not seeing. I move forward and to the side to get a better angle, but it’s the same no matter how I approach the clearing. The cabin isn’t there. Like the truck, it’s just gone.
Warily, I move closer, hoping that it will appear as an afterthought, but as I reach the tree line it becomes apparent that the meadow is clear of any buildings. I check the creek to make sure I’m in the right location and it’s there, the same as before. There is no sign that a building was ever here; no sign of a foundation or discoloration to the short grass.
My food and water gets renewed, but the one thing that I need to get me through the coming night is gone. This seriously has to be an experiment of some kind.
“Okay, he made it through with the help of the cabin. Let’s see what he can do without it.”
Turning to the sinking sun, I accept that the two hours I thought I’d have in peace have now turned into a time limit on searching for a more secure location. I could head up to the crest and hope to find a better place among boulders, but that will still leave me in the open. If I had an open clearing such as when I first arrived, then I might stand a chance. At least then I’d have unlimited lines of sight and could engage the night runners at a distance. My eyes are drawn across the valley to the cave where the cultists attempted to summon a demon.
With the cabin gone, there’s no guarantee that the cave will be there. If it is there, then there’s the chance that night runners will use its dark confines. But, if I could make it before nightfall and it’s not being used by either night runner or demon, I stand a better chance as any attacker will have to funnel in through the entrance. If I’m quick enough, I may even have a chance to start a smoldering fire and smoke myself.
I certainly don’t have time to conduct a lengthy internal debate on the matter. Without another moment of hesitation, I set off down the hillside feeling like someone in charge should start naming this particular slope of the ridgeline after me. School kids could come out here on field trips and look at the various markers placed along the climb.
On a bitter afternoon, as he scaled this hill for the seventy-eighth time, his curses could be heard ringing throughout the universe.
The scramble down the hill is the exact opposite of stealthy maneuvering. Branches snap under my boots, limbs are pushed aside without regard for what noise they may make. I know I sound like an elk crashing through the woods, and I don’t really care. If I run into whatever other creature this world wants to send, so be it. I know the one that will be coming soon, and that’s the one I’m most worried about. Well, those angels aren’t fun either, but I have a feeling my heart seizing in fear will alert me to their presence long before I run into them.
At the highway, I do take a little time to listen for the whir of tires on the road. Of course, that precaution won’t mean too much if they just suddenly appear out of thin air. After hurrying across the road, cold water swirls around my boots as I step into the river. Here is the one place I can’t hurry. Each step is carefully placed, especially in the deeper waters. If I slip, then I’ll be swept away with the current, probably unable to right myself until I’m back in that accursed town. So, I’m fucking careful about that. Very fucking careful.
The dying sunlight glimmers off the fast-moving waves and birds flit quickly across the wide river. For a moment while crossing, I wonder if I could remain on one bank and quickly cross when the night runner portals open. They’d have to cross the waterway in order to get to me. That would be a slow passage for them and would allow me to engage them while they’re at a disadvantage. For that idea to work, all of the creatures would have to spawn on only one side. If they appeared on both sides, I’d be totally screwed. The cave is a dicey choice as well, but one that has a better chance in my opinion. Whichever way I choose and with the scant time allowed me, I can’t afford to be wrong. I opt for the cave, but I know that I’ll arrive about the same time that darkness sets in.
The river eventually shallows again and I climb onto the embankment, water draining from my pants and boots. I start through the woods with increasing anxiety. There are a lot of “what ifs” up the hill. The cave not being there is the greatest, but there are a few more that come to mind. If the cultists are there, then perhaps I could hide out within the confines of their protective bubble. That would kind of be ideal, unless they manage to summon the demon. I can’t imagine that will be fun and games, considering our last meeting. And then there’s the possibility of the night runners using the cave as one of their lairs. I still don’t know where they go when the sun rises, as I haven’t seen any sign of them in the darker places I’ve been in. It could be that they return through the same portals. Who the fuck knows?
My thighs are aching as I scale the steep slopes. I push hard for the upper levels in the increasing gloom of the evening, my harsh exhales filling the space in the dense forest. At a level that I think is equal to the cave and the little plateau in front, I stop climbing and walk along the terrain. I stumble a couple of times, but overall my legs and back are thankful for the reprieve.
I reach the plateau with a sigh of relief just as the last of the light descends. The cave entrance still resides in the sheer rock cliff, the stone altar block positioned just in front. Apparently some things are permanent fixtures of this world. I wish it were the cabin and not this place. Staring with trepidation at the entrance, I see it’s covered with the same shimmering as before, a faint hint of silver flowing in a field of utter darkness.
The western sky seen through the trees is a marvel of color: deep oranges mingled with reds, flaring into a darkening sky. As I catch my breath, night falls as the sun sinks below the horizon. Almost immediately, flares of white appear within the trees, flashing off the trunks. Nearby shrieks fill the air. I glance at the shimmering cave entrance. From the sound of the echoing screams shattering the night, it seems the night runners are closing quickly and will be on me in less than a minute. Glancing back and forth between the oncoming hunters and the cave, I’m not so sure I made the right choice down at the river.
Nevertheless, I run over to the entrance. The shimmer wasn’t there when the cult leader emerged and the black roiling mass that it became only appeared after the chanting began. Something changed, or perhaps the entrance reverted to what I’m seeing now when the summoning failed. Maybe the demon is still in mid-summon, which wouldn’t bode well for me.
Reaching out, I place my hand against the shimmer. A silver ring flares outward with my touch like a pebble in a pond. There is some resistance to it, kind of like the rubbery coating of drying paint in a can. With the night runner shrieks getting louder, I don’t have much choice. Fight and die, or take the plunge … if I can even power my way through the barrier.
I push against the shimmer. The blockage doesn’t bow inward as I expected, as it did when the demon attempted to push its way out. It takes a lot of strength to push my hand further in, but I manage. My hand and wrist slowly vanish in the blackness, becoming so cold that it’s painful. It’s that kind of cold that feels like no amount of warmth will ever be enough to recover. The screams in the surrounding woods grow louder and I catch the first glimpse of pale shapes running between the trunks.
Fuck it!
I push my whole body against the shimmering field. It feels an awful lot like pushing against the dense air the cultists held me with. It was only with sheer willpower that I was able to overco
me that. My arm and shoulder vanish in the murk, instantly freezing. Gritting my teeth, I push on.
When the bare skin of my cheek touches the barrier, it sends a shock through my system like I jumped headlong into a mountain river just downstream from a glacier. Closing my eyes, I guess hoping that the thin lids will prevent my eyeballs from freezing solid, I push my way further in.
I’ve lost all feeling in my arm and am not sure if it’s completely frozen or I just can’t feel it for some reason. With my head now fully in the barrier, all thoughts vanish with the exception of the desire to keep pushing. It feels like brain freeze from eating ice cream too fast; the brain’s equivalent of stepping on a Lego.
I feel a hand grab my other arm and tug on it. At the same time, I force myself the rest of the way through, stumbling on the uneven rock ground. It’s not completely dark; some gray radiant light comes from somewhere unseen. My limbs and brain quickly come back to life as if they hadn’t just experienced any trauma whatsoever. I have the impression that I spent hours in that barrier when it couldn’t have been more than a minute.
Turning back to the cave entrance, I see the silver ripples that had spread outward are now doing the opposite: coming from the edges toward where I pushed through. On the other side, I see night runners streaming into the clearing, some clawing at the barrier. If they’re able to gain entrance, I should be okay. If they pass through as slowly as I did, I’ll be able to pick them off with relative ease. Slowly, the night runners outside dim as the barrier becomes darker until there’s only shimmering black and the void beyond.
I quickly check my M-4, removing the mag and working the slide back and forth. I hate dry firing, but there’s a satisfying click as I pull the trigger. Providing the bullets still work, I should be good to go. Replacing the mag, I look around the cave.
The immediate interior is a circular area of rough-hewn stone, the roof arching as if I’m in the top half of a ball. To the left, a large round tunnel presses further into the hillside and downward. The descent is what worries me. I almost expect to see flames or lava glowing off the sides. Unless forced to, I don’t think I’ll be traversing down that passageway. I’ll just hunker down until sunrise, when I’ll try to push my way back through the barrier and continue on my way.
I’m struck by the absolute quiet. I would expect the barrier to make some noise, perhaps some kind of soft static or hissing, but there’s no sound at all. Unsure now if I really heard the click of the firing pin, I move the selector switch. The faint click is reassuring, but I’m inside the cave, in the very spot where the demon stood. I can still picture it as if I were staring at it this very moment: the emerald eyes surrounded by red, the massive snout with fire deep inside and smoke trailing out of both mouth and nostril, the acid dripping from fangs to hiss on the ground.
I look down at the floor, searching for any sign of the stone having been etched. There’s nothing that I can discern, and I hope that the shimmering barrier instead of the roiling black mass means that I haven’t just walked into a demon’s lair … or, you know, hell or whatever that is in this world. Oddly enough, Mike found a demon who’s helping him, and we’re being attacked by angels who took Trip. Again, it certainly seems that I’m on the wrong side of things.
Feeling on edge, I head to the back wall where I can keep an eye on both the entrance and the tunnel. I sit and lean my back against the stone, starting to settle in to bide my time.
“I know that smell,” a deep voice booms through the cavern, coming from deep down the tunnel.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” I mutter while rising as a shot of adrenaline floods my system.
On my feet, I look from my carbine, which now seems far too small, to the descending tunnel. I have little hope of fighting the demon. I’ve seen what the Kalandar can do; my pitiful bullets might not even irritate this one. Even if I was some kind of master ninja, there wouldn’t be a thing I could do.
There are limited choices at this point. I can stay and try to reason with said demon or I can try to go back through the barrier into a horde of night runners. Not only would I emerge into the pack on the other side, but I’d probably do so slowly, giving them ample time to gnaw my body parts to the bone as I emerged. I suppose there’s also the option of running headlong into the stone walls until I go unconscious and hoping I wake in a better place. I feel I would have a better chance reasoning with the demon had I spoken differently the last time we met, on opposite sides of the barrier. My mouthiness certainly didn’t do me any favors.
“We meet again on this side, mortal. Let us see how you speak to me now,” the voice booms again, the walls vibrating. “I’m interested in seeing what an outworlder tastes like.”
I feel the surge of the demon coming up through the tunnel from below. If I had any doubts about staying, those last words put it to rest. It’s a choice about being eaten by many as opposed to being crunched in a single set of gigantic jaws and being chewed. I think I’ll take my chances with the night runners. Rushing across the cavern, I press into the barrier, which no longer holds a clean shimmer, but is beginning to roil as it did during the summoning. I suppose that means the demon is getting closer. If that also means it keeps anything from this side from getting out, I’m toast.
I push into the mass that looks like angry black bubbling cotton balls. The cold is still there as I push as hard as I can, trying to force my way through before handsome can rip my arm off and beat me with it. It’s like pushing as before from the other side, but it feels thicker somehow—as if I were sprint training in a lake of tar. In addition to the absolute cold, it also feels like my arm is being buffeted in high winds like it’s flailing about without my control.
My head slides into the darkness, my hair tossed wildly. I push onward, sensing the demon closing in behind. The buffeting of my arm stops and I can’t feel a thing: no wind, no cold. I wonder if the night runners on the other side have already feasted on it and are waiting for the other parts to slowly emerge. I feel like all of the luck I’ve had in my life so far has finally run out and the universe is saying “enough.” I’ll miss the kids and Lynn, but honestly, I’m kind of ready for this insanity to be over.
Straining, I forge ahead only to feel something gigantic wrap around one of my lower legs. In a panic, I try to surge through but I’m being pulled back. The tension on my leg feels like it’s about to be pulled from its socket. Instead of being yanked back, I’m slowly pulled as if I were a piece of taffy. I worry that either my hip or neck will give way. But even if that doesn’t happen, then more fun things await.
I come clear of the barrier and am dragged across the rocky surface, clawing with my fingers to get some kind of grip. I’m then lifted in the air and find myself hanging upside down in front of the demon. The sulfur smell of its breath flows past. A reverse bellow rises from its nostrils as it takes in a huge sniff. Beyond the great snout are the green eyes rimmed with red. Somewhere below me I hear the clatter of my carbine as it hits the ground.
I realize that the cave has enlarged to accommodate the demon’s great size. The beast opens its mouth. Deep down there is the glow of fire, and another surge of sulfur pours past. I think I’m about to be placed in its mouth like the last crumbs from a chip bag. I mean, I’ve always wanted to go out with a story, though I had hoped for something akin to being hit by a falling satellite. I suppose being eaten by a demon could be considered a close second, but there’s no one around to tell it.
“I’m not sure how you made it through the barrier into this world, mortal, but I’m glad for it,” the demon says as gouts of thick smoke roil out of its mouth.
“That makes one of us,” I reply.
“You were smart-mouthed when you were safely on the other side. Are you not feeling so brave now?”
“Yeah, about that. I was kind of having a bad day.”
“Explain how you gained entrance here? Others have tried and failed. Some on this side have tried leaving without success, yet you almo
st escaped. I do not smell magic on you, so tell me—how did you do it?”
It’s really difficult to shrug while you’re hung upside down by a demon, but I try nonetheless. “I guess I’m just lucky.”
“If you can truly get through, it will open this portal and I can finally be free,” the demon bellows, completely ignoring any comment I have to make in reply.
Now, I may not be the smartest person in the world—or any world, for that matter—but I’m sure having this creature free is not a good thing. I have a sneaky feeling that this guy won’t be like Kalandar. But a thought occurs.
“Can you get me back to my world? Can you get me and my friends back to where we belong?” I ask, feeling the blood pounding in my head.
“No. The angels block those conduits. Besides, even if I could, I would not. You and I have scores to settle,” the demon replies.
“I was afraid of that,” I mumble, the pressure really building in my head.
“So, you have a choice. You go through the portal or I’ll eat you slowly. Imagine if you will, your legs crunching between my teeth. Oh, it will be divine. Pain-filled bone and blood are the tastiest. I will take my time and savor you,” the demon says, his dark tongue licking his cracked black lips.
“So, through that portal then, right?” I say, nodding toward the cave entrance.
The demon sets me down and I lay there for a moment, allowing the blood to even itself out in my body. I then rise and find my carbine, shouldering it. The cave entrance is a black, roiling, chaotic mess.
