by J. Thorn
“Please, Samuel. Come here.”
He reached out and felt the power pulse through his body as their hands locked.
Chapter 15
“Another round?”
Samuel blinked and looked down at his folded hands on the polished, mahogany bar. He blinked again at Mara sitting next to him on the stool. She wore her hair bundled on top of her head, curls dangling on her cheek like onyx earrings. The dark mascara accentuated her eyes. Her red lipstick could hypnotize any man. Samuel looked at her foundation, delicately applied to her porcelain skin in a way that defined gothic beauty. He felt satisfaction, contentment, even a peaceful calm emanating from her.
“Where are we?” he asked.
Mara winked and turned to the burly bartender standing before a wall of mirrors and bottled spirits. She ignored Samuel’s question and answered the bartender’s.
“Yes. For both of us,” she said.
With a swift swipe of his rag, the bartender smiled and cleared the condensation left by the previous round. He turned to toil and clang bottles together while ice clinked in the bottom of the glasses. A thin layer of sweet tobacco smoke hung just below an intricately carved ceiling. Ornate posts straddled the bar as patrons moved about.
“Don’t know the name of the place, but it’s really old. They built the bar before prohibition and then opened it up again afterward. Most of it has been restored. Even the ghosts that haunt it have come back.”
Mara winked, catching the light in her eyes with a dazzling smile. Her brilliant teeth shone between ruby lips. Samuel felt mesmerized by her beauty, and yet a deep sadness seemed to reside below the surface, one that hurt like an ache in his chest.
“You look stunning,” Samuel said. He felt as though he was gawking at his sister dolled up for prom.
“Thank you,” she said.
Samuel looked down at her bare shoulders sitting atop a tight, black dress. Mara wore ankle bracelets and toe rings that glistened in the light.
“Are we still in the cave?” he asked.
“This is it, Samuel. Our first and last date, if you want to call it that.”
Samuel felt his face blush from that awkward feeling again.
“The wolves, they—”
Mara cut him off with the wave of a hand. Before she could reply, the bartender returned with two glasses filled to the brim with sparkling ice cubes suspended in a clear, amber sea.
“To us. Our time together and, sadly, our goodbyes.”
Mara held her glass up. Samuel lifted his to the toast and watched her lips caress the glass. She siphoned half of the drink on the first sip before setting it back down. People moved about, navigating through the bodies clumped near the bar. Samuel looked at them looking at him.
“Goodbye?”
“Of course. The wolves, the horde. Shit, the reversion. It’s all coming to a head. You know that, right?”
Samuel shook his head and rubbed a hand across his chin.
“We can still say goodbye,” Mara said. “I’ve always liked this place, and I’ve always wanted a special little black dress. Shame I’m only getting it now.”
“We have to fight our way out of the cave.”
Mara snickered and held her hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter, as if trying not to embarrass Samuel. “You will. You still have work to do. But me, Samuel, I’m finished. There isn’t anything left for me.”
“But the portal, a slip, I could—”
“No. No, you can’t. I’m not leaving the cavern, Samuel. I won’t be able to slip with you and try my luck in another locality. This is it for me.”
Samuel looked around again, feeling as though everyone in the bar was about to yell “surprise” as party hats appeared in the room. He felt the tension of secrecy and the pain of being left out of it.
“How do you know that?” he asked.
“I got word. I know. I’ve done what was asked of me, and now I’m out. That’s how it works. You’ll see.” Mara drew another sip of liquor over her glistening lips and winked. “Forget it, Samuel,” she said. “I can’t explain it to you and, even if I could, you wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m done,” he said, a serrated edge to the words. “The date is over, and this entire bar can fuck off. Put me back in the cave with the wolves and the undead.”
“Done with what?” Mara asked. “That’s one thing about us Americans, right? We want everything tied up perfectly, no loose ends. We want all the answers and logical reasons for everything.”
He sat back as Mara’s eyes began to shed tears from each corner.
“We demand a happy ending and for shit to make sense. Well, let me tell you something. It ain’t like that. Sometimes you don’t get to find out why. Sometimes shit doesn’t belong to you.”
Mara slammed the glass down on the bar. Samuel looked around and noticed the place was now empty. Even the bartender had disappeared.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“I know what you meant to do,” she said. “I know what your intentions were. But that doesn’t matter, either. You know what they say about the path to hell and how it’s paved. And if you don’t, you know now.”
When Samuel looked up at her face, he saw the healthy shine of her hair degenerate into the filthy, sweaty strands lying on her forehead. The eye make-up disappeared, as did the layer of foundation that accentuated her smooth skin. The sexy, black dress morphed into the rags that hung from her emaciated frame.
“Wait, Mara. I don’t understand what you want from me.”
The mirrored walls slid downward into the pools of mineral water gathering at the base of the cave wall. Ornate columns and brass poles turned into teeth of rock hanging from the unseen ceiling of the cavern.
“Nothing, Samuel. I don’t want anything from you. It’s about what you’re willing to give, not what is demanded of you.”
***
He blinked once, and the cavern snapped back into view. Mara stood by him with tears in her eyes and his hand in hers. The alpha male crouched low, his hunters surrounding him, with the horde continuing to march into the space until enough appeared that Samuel could begin to smell their rotting flesh.
If you give me your neck, I will make it pass quickly.
Samuel shrugged and shook his head at the alpha male.
“I don’t know what it is,” he said while casting a confused look at Mara, “but I know I can’t lie down for you. If you want me, you’ll have to fight.”
The hunters growled and snapped their long teeth into the air. Mara let go of Samuel’s hand and stepped backward until she felt the wall behind her.
Without warning, the alpha male lunged at Samuel. The hunters stepped closer while the horde remained in place, swaying even in the absence of wind. Samuel spun and raised his hands into a defensive position, using his fingers to grab the alpha male’s coat while turning to the right. The movement took advantage of the wolf’s momentum and allowed Samuel to toss him to the side. The alpha male yelped as he crashed into the stone wall. Samuel reached a hand to the empty sheath still attached to his leg and cursed the reversion—Samuel could not remember losing the knife, yet it was gone.
Mara stepped to the side, and the other hunters stayed with her. Samuel struck at the alpha male with his foot. The kick connected with bony ribs, which elicited another cry from the wolf.
You are not leaving this cave.
Samuel felt the pain in the wolf’s telepathic communication. He shook his head and lunged forward. This time, the alpha male anticipated the kick, dodged to the side and locked his jaws around Samuel’s ankle. The wolf snapped its head back and forth while ripping Samuel’s pants below the knee.
Mara cried, and Samuel turned in time to see the three hunters on top of her. He saw her legs kicking and arms flailing as the beasts attacked.
“No,” Samuel yelled, dragging the alpha male across the floor toward Mara.
The alpha male released his grip on Samuel’s ankle, which brought an im
mediate wave of relief followed by the cold burn of torn flesh exposed to the air. Samuel felt blood pooling in his shoe and fell to the ground when his leg would not obey the signals sent by his brain.
I must leave you both to Him.
Samuel sat up, his left hand clamping around the pant leg now saturated with his own blood, looking at the shuffling horde.
“What are you saying?”
The hunters moved back. The alpha male barked, and they continued past the standing undead and left the cavern.
We have done what was asked of us. We have released her. I would have rather eaten the flesh, but that command will not be given.
The alpha male trotted by Samuel and around the undead. The wolf stopped in the tunnel and looked back at Samuel.
He that commands will fulfill the contract and release us from the grips of the reversion. The other beasts, they seem to be destined to be eaten by the cloud.
The alpha male stared at him for another second before turning and disappearing into the darkness of the cave.
Samuel looked at the horde. The creatures inside the cavern remained in their animated sway. He clawed at the dirt, dragging his injured leg behind as he crawled next to Mara, whose breathing came in ragged gasps. The wolves had torn ragged chunks from her arms and legs, which bled openly.
“I’m going to save you,” he said.
Mara smiled, even as he recoiled at the sight of her wounds.
“I’ll last longer than you think. The reversion. It slows even death.”
Samuel smiled, his face contorting between sadness and pity.
“Deal with the horde.”
Samuel took her hand and looked up at the sentinels standing in the cavern, their lifeless orbs staring back at them both.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Mara winced, trying to staunch the flow of blood with strips of fabric ripped from her pants.
“I need help. You know things about this locality, this place.”
“It’s time,” she said as the creatures came toward them.
***
Samuel slid his left arm underneath Mara’s right arm and she grabbed his shoulder as they both hobbled on injured legs. With his right, he grabbed a crooked stick from the ground to use as a club. Samuel took a deep breath as he felt the blood pulsing in his ears.
“This is the only way,” he said.
“Go on,” she said, gritting through the pain.
The first thirty feet through the passage proved to be the most difficult as Samuel tried to keep his balance. A creature appeared occasionally, arms outstretched, until Samuel would strike it with the club. He struggled to climb the rising incline of the passage while supporting Mara. He shifted as best he could, but their pace was slow at best.
When he reached the first intersection inside the mountain, Samuel glanced back at the horde behind him. New arrivals came through the tunnels at a trickle, giving him time to strike and then step over them.
“Hurry,” Mara said. “Not much time left.”
Samuel moved forward into the tunnel that led upward toward the surface of the locality. Samuel thought about that, and wondered what good it would do to race to the surface of a world about to be demolished by the reversion. Before his rational mind could answer, he took more steps toward the surface.
He let the club swing next to his right leg as he climbed through the tight passages. Samuel turned several times, Mara slowing with each step. When he reached another tunnel, Samuel stopped. He let Mara slide to the ground, careful to keep a hand near the back of her head to prevent it from striking the stone wall. He placed his hands on his knees and drew as much air into his lungs as he could. Before Samuel stood, he heard a rotten voice speaking as if from the grave.
“Our last stand is here. We cannot let you pass.”
***
Samuel gazed at the form slathered in darkness. The voice felt different, yet it retained a familiar timbre. With another glance at Mara, he stepped forward, gripping the makeshift weapon in his hand. The color fell from her face as more of her life bled from the wounds. The entity stepped to the side and into the glow cast by the cave. Samuel shook his head and wondered how long the ambient light would last as the reversion bore down. With a quick glance, he looked at Mara’s wounds, which appeared deeper and more serious than his own.
“You remember?” the form asked.
“We spoke of ahimsa, moksha and rebirth. On the edge of the marsh,” Samuel said.
The creature nodded and stepped closer.
“The reversion has exhausted the horde, broken them down. You will not need that any longer.”
Samuel looked to his hand holding the club and then back over his shoulder at Mara.
“Nothing will attack her,” the creature said, following Samuel’s eyes.
“You’re different.”
“Than you?”
“Yes. But different from the horde, too,” Samuel said. “You speak with more authority in your voice, more experience.”
“Maybe you hear that as less threatening. I came to you in the marsh to try to explain the universe, or as much of it as you could comprehend. The others—” The creature waved a hand in the air. “The others are bound by their duty, their dharma.”
The last word hung in the air, and Samuel felt the familiar twinge of memory. He thought back to his conversation with this entity.
“Aren’t you, as well?”
“Yes, but not the same dharma.”
The creature stepped closer and motioned for Samuel to sit on a wide, flat rock near the wall of the cave. He looked at the opening and then back to the rock.
“It is swallowing what’s left as we speak. You are free to run into that if you so desire.”
Samuel shook his head and sat down.
“Some call it the path of righteousness, but I find that misleading. It has nothing to do with right or wrong, only duty.”
“What can I call you?”
A smile burst upon the creature’s face, contorting it into a grin reserved for Halloween jack-o’-lanterns.
“You may call me Deva.”
Samuel nodded, waiting for Deva to continue.
“The Buddhists, Hindus, Jains, they all incorporated dharma into their belief systems, but it is much more ancient than that. Those in the West liked to call it fate, but even that is a misnomer.”
Mara groaned and turned her head. She was sitting, but her eyes were now closed. Samuel stood, looking at her and then back at Deva.
“She will not worsen while we speak.”
“What about her condition after?” Samuel asked.
“That is why we’re speaking,” Deva said. “Please sit back down.”
Samuel did so, wringing his hands.
“There is a natural order of things, an ŗta. Your dharma corresponds to this order. In your case, and in hers,” Deva said, nodding toward Mara, “you must answer to it.”
“Of course the Hindus used moksha to reinforce the caste system, which put thousands of people into the gutters of their cities, but the idea behind moksha was you would be rewarded for pursuing your own dharma.
“In the Rig Veda, the teachings claim that dharma is not just law or harmony, but it is pure reality. ‘Verily, that which is dharma is truth’.”
Samuel watched Deva smile again, as if his own words began to reawaken a lost humanity inside.
“What does this have to do with me? With the reversion?”
Deva nodded, feeling chastised for his own intellectual indulgence. “Your dharma includes the woman, as well as the man you sent through the portal. Until you deal with both of these souls, your dharma will not be fulfilled.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with either of them,” Samuel said.
“Neither do I,” Deva said.
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” Deva said.
“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 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.
“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 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 buried in his father’s coffin, and the one that returned briefly to this locality. He grabbed it from Deva’s palm and then bowed.
