by Edward Shawn
“He’s been reassigned to a new project we’re developing in South America–Peru to be more exact. Trust me, he was more than happy to go.”
Evelynn sensed their business had concluded. She delivered the package and now was free to do whatever she wanted. And what she wanted most was a shower and a change of clothes.
Jeremiah looked up from his desk. “Evey, it really is good to see you again. I’ve missed you since you’ve been away, but I understand your desire to take a break from the business. Now that you’re back, I have an important assignment coming up that I want you to handle. I’ll be in touch as soon as we’re ready to launch. In the meantime, relax and enjoy the next couple of days.”
“I will.” Evelynn left the office.
Placing his thumb on the built in scanner of the attaché case, Jeremiah heard the locks release after his identity was verified. Removing a large envelope, he slit it open and dropped a wooden medallion into the palm of his hand. Looking it over, he reached for his phone. “Dr. Lee, the medallion has arrived. Come up to the main office and pick it up. I want you to begin your analysis right away.” Jeremiah hung up. The doctor was on his way.
7
“Why are you meeting this guy?” Danny asked as he guided the Mustang along the same route they had traveled the day before. “He’s probably a stalker.”
James smirked at his friend’s concern. “That’s why you’re here, to back me up just in case.”
“I’m serious, man! This old dude pops up from nowhere and suddenly he’s everywhere–stalking you in the forest, disappearing around corners. And he knows where you live!”
“I’m not worried,” James said with a shrug. “I don’t think he’s dangerous. Besides, I want to find out more about this.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out the medallion. “He asked me to find the medallion. Now he’s gonna have to tell me why it’s so important,” he said to no one in particular.
James was aware his friend had been spooked by some of the things he heard during lunch. Danny had listened as James told him about crows chasing bears, the old man’s sudden appearances, finding the medallion hidden away in his grandmother’s chest and being rendered unconscious for close to three hours. After hearing it all, Danny’s attitude became rather subdued and he had trouble finishing his lunch of pastrami and rye sandwiches.
It was late evening by the time they left. Danny returned to school after lunch but promised to take James wherever he wanted when he was free. As a result, less than an hour of sunlight remained.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Danny said. “We can still turn around and forget about all this.”
“Forget? How can I forget what this thing did? It covered me in, I don’t know, light or energy or...if I don’t find out what this thing is and what it can do, it could do more than just knock me out the next time.”
Danny looked at James. “So? Just get rid of it and there won’t be a next time.”
“No! There’s something going on here and I want to know what it is.” James turned the medallion over in his hand. “I have this feeling the old man won’t leave me alone until I do what he asks.”
“Fine. We keep going then. But it’s on you if anything goes wrong.”
James flipped the medallion into the air. “Okay by me,” he said as it fell into his hand. Looking out the passenger window, they were approaching the spot where he first saw the old man. As darkness pushed aside the remainder of the day, a flash of red appeared between the stalks of rotting corn.
“Hey! Slow down!” James gazed back at the field.
Danny eased up on the accelerator. “You see something?”
“Turn around. I think he’s back there.”
Danny sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”He turned the car around. “Okay. Let’s go see what the old kook is up to.”
The sun dipped below the horizon, the last rays of light shading the clouds a deep pink. Pulling up alongside the field, James got out and stared over the car’s roof at the dead crops. Shrouded under a settling cloak of night, the field concealed its intent from his prying gaze.
“I can’t see a thing,” he said, climbing back inside. “We can’t leave the car by the side of the road. Take it into the field.”
Danny shook his head. “No way am I doing that.”
“It’s not gonna hurt your precious wheels. It’s just a bunch of dead plants. And we can use the headlights to light up the place and get a better look around.” James nodded at his friend. “C’mon. We came all this way.”
Backing the Mustang up, Danny aimed it towards the field, the headlights cutting through the darkness and illuminating the plants.
“Take her in, nice and slow.”
“Okay! Alright! But you can talk to my parents if anything happens to my car,” Danny said.
“If anything happens to it, just get it fixed. Or even better, ask your parents for a new one,” James teased.
“Man, I am out here because of you, just remember that!”
James smiled at his uptight friend. “Yeah, I know, and I appreciate it–I really do.”
The Mustang bumped into the first row of stalks and crumpled them before it. Soon after, the entire car was surrounded by dead crops.
“This isn’t working,” James said. “We have to get out of the car–can’t see anything from inside.” Opening the passenger door, he climbed out as Danny stopped the car.
“Wait a minute!” Leaving the motor running, Danny exited and joined James in the headlight glare. “Are you sure you saw him?” he asked.
“I saw something red. It reminded me of the old man’s shirt.” James peered around at the surrounding darkness. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is all a waste of–”
A crow landed on the hood of the Mustang.
“James, check it out!”
But he already saw it. Not wanting his movements to startle the bird, James remained motionless. The crow turned its head to one side, its visible eye staring directly at him. Then without a sound, it launched into the air and flew off into the depths of the field.
“Let’s follow it!” James shouted.
“What? What for?” Danny asked, inching closer to the driver’s side door.
“The old man’s here. He’s connected to the crow somehow.” James pushed his way past the rows of withered plants, the headlights fading behind him. Moving deeper into the field, he heard the crow cawing and started racing towards the sound. Breaking through the last few stalks, he stepped onto the edge of a meadow.
James heard the Mustang getting closer. Light filling the area, Danny drove his car onto the grass, the headlights revealing a greenish-white mist swirling in the distance. The night air was still, yet the vaporous cloud churned as if caught in a stiff breeze.
“Now what?” Danny said through his open window.
James backed towards the car, unsure of what to make of the mist billowing towards them.
“We should get outta here!” Danny started winding his window up.
“Wait a second!” James stared at the bank of emerald clouds. “There’s something out there.” A shadow moved inside the mist, the silhouette sharpening before the old man stepped through the fog.
“You have come.” He spoke the words in the same impassive tone he always used.
“Yeah, I have.” James studied him, but the man maintained his expressionless visage.
Getting out of the car, Danny stepped in front of James, putting himself between them. “What’s with all the fog, old man? You got a dry ice machine around here somewhere?”
The old man glanced at Danny, then looked at James. “We must go,” he said.
“What do you mean, go? We just got here!” Reaching into his pocket, James grabbed the medallion and held it in front of the old man’s face. “Tell me what this is! What is it, old man? Tell me!”
The old man failed to answer. Turning away, he walked back into the mist, then began gesturing with his hands
while chanting in a language neither boy understood. The greenish vapor collected around his outstretched fingers, the swirling fog condensing into twin globes. His mantra ending abruptly, he plunged his hands inside the spheres of mist.
James and Danny looked at each other.
“What just happened?” Danny asked.
“I’m not sure. But whatever he’s doing, he ain’t finished yet.” James was mesmerized by what he was witnessing. The old man, simply by waving his hands around and chanting, was controlling the mist. James came in search of answers but what he got instead was a sobering dose of his new reality, one involving elements far beyond his understanding.
Moving his hands through the spheres, the old man scattered the globes of mist.
“This is just crazy!” Danny stared at James, his eyes hazed over with panic. “We should go.” He turned towards his idling sports car.
But before he could take two steps, James grabbed his arm and yanked him back. “We can’t go, not yet. Something happened to me, I can feel it inside. I have to know what, and if I have to follow him to find out, I’m going to do just that.” Letting go of Danny, he spread his arms open, his palms facing skyward. “And where’s your sense of adventure? Just look at what’s happening! Don’t you want to see where it leads?”
“No, I don’t.”
James glanced at the old man and was surprised to find him watching them. Behind him, the mist was thickening once more, only now, it coalesced into recognizable shapes. Moments later, the young men were staring at two horses, albeit ones made wholly from a light-green mist.
“Oh, man,” Danny said.
The old man gestured at the newly formed creatures. “It is time to go.”
“You still haven’t told us where we’re going,” James said.
“We ride to see the shaman.”
***
Jeremiah stepped into his quiet office, the elevator sliding shut behind him. Motion sensors triggered the corner lamps and pushed away some of the gloom. Gazing into the retinal scanner embedded in the wall by his chamber door, the female mechanical voice confirmed his identity. As a series of locks unfastened, he slid a key into the last unopened lock and released the remaining deadbolt.
Entering his private quarters, Jeremiah strolled down a dimly lit hall and into a circular room covered in a luxurious rug depicting battle between armored warriors brandishing broadswords and large axes. A diamond speckled chandelier hung from the ceiling and a number of shelves lined the walls. An array of small statues, golden masks, clay vases and dozens of other relics Jeremiah acquired over the years were on display for no one but himself to enjoy. Books were piled on the floor and on his circular bed. Opposite the hall he entered from were three additional passages leading from the bedroom. Each passageway was flanked by sword wielding suits of medieval armor.
Jeremiah headed straight for the round bed. Sitting down, he removed his shoes, placed his cane against the wall, then shoved some books out of the way before reclining on his black satin bedcovers.
What are you doing?
“Relaxing,” he answered quietly.
You are aware time is a critical component to our success?
“So you say. I doubt a couple of minutes rest will make a world of difference.”
But it could make a difference to our plans for your world.
“Aren’t you clever,” Jeremiah responded sarcastically.
It is important I return home to begin the research process.
“Alright, alright...but I’m not staying any longer than necessary.” Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
There is no need. You cannot assist me.
“Hmph.” Jeremiah stood up, picked up his cane and walked through the middle of the three passageways. At the end of the short corridor was a locked, heavy wooden door. Using another key, he entered a small room, then proceeded through a second door and into an enclosed space with only an old wooden chair and small table inside. A heavy, fur-lined full length coat was draped over the back of the chair. On the table rested a reflective, solid black triangular container. Opening the front side, he reached into the triangle and carefully extracted a skull made entirely of crystal.
Jeremiah touched the skull’s forehead with his right index finger, moving it with purpose in a sequence of motion. A deep blue glow started building within the skull’s eye sockets. Retreating a few steps, he kept his eyes fixed on the skull. The glowing sockets flared with dark light, the air between him and the skull rippling like heat waves rising off the Sahara. Then, quite suddenly, the warped air changed to the exact tint of blue reflected in the skull’s empty stare.
Reaching for the heavy coat, Jeremiah put it on. The distorted air began to slow, the ripple effect eventually becoming frozen in place. Gazing at the zone of twisted blue, he saw his mangled image reflected upon the surface.
Touching his forehead, Jeremiah repeated the same movements he performed on the crystal skull. Moving towards his deformed reflection, he stepped through the motionless waves and left the estate behind.
8
His fingers woven tightly through the Mist horse’s mane, James hung on for dear life. Danny held on by firmly gripping his friend’s waist.
They glided through the forest, the horse moving in silence, its hooves galloping above the earth. James looked through his steed at the ground hurtling past. Though his ride may have been ghostly, it felt solid underneath. But unlike horses of flesh and blood, this one didn’t breathe; its head was completely devoid of features, missing both mouth and nostrils. As far as James could tell, it probably couldn’t see that well either for its eyes were orbs of complete blackness.
The old man rode a fair distance ahead, the faint glow from his steed helping the boys keep track of him in the dark. But James wasn’t worried about becoming separated; his ride followed the old man unerringly through the trees.
They traveled over unfamiliar terrain to meet a stranger called the shaman. The word indicated a doctor or healer, a respected wise man to many in his mother’s culture. James hoped this shaman person would be able to shed some light on what the medallion was and what it had done to make him lose consciousness for so long.
“You know where we are?” Danny asked.
“Haven’t a clue,” James replied. He felt a tap on his back.
“Look over there,” Danny said, pointing off to the right.
Scanning the darkness, James spotted a small fire flickering in the distance. It appeared, then disappeared, the light momentarily obscured by trees as the Mist horse weaved its way towards it. James hoped it was their destination because he really wanted off the horse; he didn’t find the ride a comfortable one.
The horse entered the enclosure where the campfire burned. The old man had already dismounted and was awaiting their arrival. Approaching the boys, he brought their horse to a complete stop, then assisted Danny and James off the back of the supernatural beast.
They stood within a clearing someone was using as a camp. The fire looked inviting and Danny was drawn to the warmth. James trailed him to the crackling flames.
Kindling was piled nearby and James tossed some wood into the flames to turn up the intensity. The stronger campfire further illuminated the camp, but besides himself, Danny and the old man, no one else was around. As he gazed about, he saw a teepee between some trees along the edge of the clearing.
“Is this your camp?” James asked the old man.
But he didn’t respond; he was busy whispering to the Mist horses. When he stopped, both creatures bolted into the darkness, their greenish glow eventually lost amongst the trees.
“Oh, man, how are we supposed to get home now?” Danny shouted.
The old man walked towards the fire. “When we need them, they will come.”
“Where’s this shaman guy? Is he in there?” James pointed at the teepee.
The old man looked where James pointed. “Come.”
The boys followed him through
the makeshift camp. Reaching the teepee wedged between a pair of tree trunks, it would have been impossible to spot if James hadn’t thrown extra wood onto the fire. The crude tent was tall–almost twice James’s height–and shaded a light brown. Thin branches protruded from the top of the tapered dwelling and the smell of tobacco drifted in the air. Pulling back the entrance flap, the old man motioned for James to enter.
It was dark inside and he needed a moment to gather his wits before entering. Looking at the old man for any signs of treachery but only seeing the same expressionless face he always wore, James cautiously entered the confines of the teepee. Danny started to follow, but the old man released the flap and let it drop back into place. Stepping in front of the entrance, he cut Danny off from entering.
“Hey, James,” Danny said, glaring at the man barring his way. “I’ll wait out here. Holler if ya need me.”
James peered into the dark. The smell of tobacco smoke was much stronger now and he saw the orange glow of burning embers brighten considerably as a man seated before him inhaled on a pipe.
“Welcome,” said a low resonating voice.
James stared at the man seated cross-legged on the ground. He couldn’t see him all that well, the interior of the teepee was almost pitch black, the only light seeping through from the campfire outside. “Are you the shaman?” he cautiously asked.
“I am. My name is Micah.” He gestured at James to join him on the floor. “Please...sit with me,” he said, putting his pipe aside.
Lowering himself onto the fur covered ground, James sat directly across from the stranger. He couldn’t make out any details, but enough light bled into the teepee to see the outline of the shaman. Sitting with his back straight and his hands folded in his lap, Micah’s thick shoulders and developed biceps indicated a strong upper body.
“Now that you know my name, I wish to know yours.”
“James,” he immediately answered, his voice squeaking slightly. He felt quite intimidated by Micah’s presence.
“Do not fear me, young James,” Micah said soothingly. “I am here to answer your questions, to assist you in any way that I can. I’m sure there is a great deal you wish to know.”
