A Shrouded World | Book 8 | Asgard

by Tufo, Mark

  “Where’s BT?” I ask, again sheathing my sword as Trip picks up his hat.

  “He, uh, left,” Trip answers, turning his head in order not to look in my eyes.

  It’s pretty obvious he’s trying to avoid answering the question.

  “Trip, where did BT go?”

  “He went to see Mike,” Trip finally says.

  “And why aren’t we there?”

  “We should probably have taken a left at Albuquerque.”

  Getting an answer out of the stoned hippie is next to impossible. Well, getting a straight answer, anyway. He gives answers aplenty, and it’s frustrating to say the least.

  “So, how do we get out of here and to where Mike is?”

  Trip gives me an incredulous look, like the answer should be obvious.

  “Yack, you just have to click your heels.”

  I’m standing on wooden platforms, so I’m not sure how exactly I’m going to click my heels. I’m sure that has to be a metaphor for something else, but I can’t think of what he might mean. All of a sudden, he starts dancing.

  Now, when I say Trip starts dancing, there are a hundred humorous images that come to mind. He actually begins these very graceful dance moves which surprise me. I never thought he could move like this. It’s mesmerizing watching him move from one form to the next in a choreographed manner.

  “You have to do it too, Yack,” Trip says amid his spins and twirls.

  I chuckle. There’s no way I’m going to try and imitate that. But then again, maybe he’s being quite serious and we’ll be stuck here unless I do. I start out clumsily. Dancing has never been even remotely what I would consider a skillset. But, I try to follow along with his moves, spinning and moving my arms like a drunken ballerina.

  This goes on for about ten minutes. I’m about to question Trip when he says, “Okay, now jump in the air and click your heels together.”

  Well, I do just that, nearly eating some earth for my effort. Nothing happens. We aren’t magically transported to another world. No portal forms. We’re still under the trees with blossoms falling in our hair and on our shoulders.

  “Well, what was supposed to happen?” I ask, panting from the exertion.

  “Happen? Nothing was supposed to happen. I just wanted to see you do that,” Trip responds.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “You need to lighten up. Want a toke?”

  “No. I want to get out of here and see if we can still help Mike,” I reply. “Hopefully before we run into any more sword-wielding ninjas.”

  “Ninjas rarely use swords.”

  “Whatever. You know what I mean.”

  “Did you know that you can see space from the Great Wall?” Trip asks out of the blue.

  “Wrong country,” I state, not bothering to tell him that he has that backwards.

  “Are you sure?” Trip asks, pointing behind me.

  I turn around and sure enough, there’s a giant wall stretching out of sight to the left and right. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there a moment ago.

  “That’s not supposed to be there,” I say, wondering just how and why it popped into existence. It was probably just to prove me wrong.

  There are a series of towers set along the immense wall. Most are only wider sections of the wall with a central structure allowing access to the walkway along the top. I’m not sure if this is a real portrayal of the actual Great Wall, but it’s as near as I can tell. Atop the nearest tower, a spiraling mass of black rises upward. Long streaks of red, green, and yellow whirl within the spinning maelstrom. I hope I’m not expected to step into that mass of death in order to get out of here.

  The swirling vortex does seem like a signal, and seems to be the place we’re supposed to go. Although, the thing is rather menacing and proceeding in the opposite direction sounds like the best idea. Trip and I start across the blossom-strewn field toward the tower.

  At the bottom, there’s a doorway leading in. Next to it is scrawled “Beware the Herpesians.” For some reason, I’m not even the tiniest bit surprised. I wonder if I’m actually going to see lizard people beyond the door. It’s tempting to push beyond just to see them.

  Trip hasn’t said much and is just staring up at the streak-colored black vortex, but speaks up as I hesitate opening the door.

  “The train is leaving soon.”

  Now, I’m assuming he means our chance to go to whatever world is the next in line. That means hurrying. Drawing my sword, I push the door open and peer inside. Hurrying doesn’t mean leaping into the unknown without a care. The interior is dimly lit from narrow windows posted at intervals near the stairs leading upward. There are ledges encircling the tower where normal floors might be. Around each landing are arched doorways. I’m not sure where they could possibly lead, as they’re on the outside and the only place they could go is outside. However, each one is dark without a hint of daylight showing.

  I kind of know how this scene goes. We start climbing the stairs and get to a certain level before the lizard people appear from each of the portals. Then we have to fight our way to the top. My only hope is that they’re just as slow as they’re depicted on TV. It’ll then become a slogfest of slowly working our way up through the crowd. With that in mind, but allowing for it to turn out completely differently, I step into the interior.

  It’s several degrees cooler, and we start up the winding stairs. When things start to happen, I can only hope that Trip opts to use his slingshot rather than just pass out. Our steps reverberate against the stone block walls. It’s a little difficult trying to be quiet walking on wooden shoes. Nothing happens upon reaching the first level, but as expected, creatures begin showing at the doorways once we press further up the tower.

  As advertised, the aliens move slowly to block our route. The ones below don’t try to engage but are there to make sure we’re pushed toward the greater number gathering on the stairs. Trip starts plinking a few higher up with that slingshot of his, not really aiming, just drawing back and releasing. He seems to have an unlimited supply of stones in that interior pocket.

  I start cleaving the ones nearest, sending sprays of dark liquid to coat the walls and stairs. Lizard man after lizard man falls silently over the edge to hit the bottom with a thud. After a bit, even that heavy hit becomes subdued as they start landing atop each other. I find that I don’t even have to raise a sword, but just duck under their slow and awkward swings then push them over the edge. Make no mistake, if those long claws were to connect, I’d feel it. They’re capable of cutting deep enough to sever arteries.

  Progress is slow as they keep crowding the steps. I have no idea how many there are but there isn’t an empty part of the stairs. The skin of the lizard people is a mottled green, dry and rough to the touch. They have huge black eyes without pupils that I can determine. If they blink, I haven’t seen them do it. It’s almost like there’s a dark lens covering their real eyes. They march endlessly down to their death without doing much more than swinging when they get within range. It’s the same with every one of them. Step, swing, duck, push, move upward.

  With the idea that our time is limited, I push as hard as I can, sending numerous lizards down to the bottom of the tower. I’m not even sure if the fall is killing them. Those falling now have to be hitting with quite a cushion under them. I keep an eye on those still moving up with us from below. This is mindless slaughter and kind of sickening. If it weren’t for the need to get to the top and out of here, hopefully, I’d plead with them to just stop this insanity.

  Near the top, there’s a narrow ledge leading away from the steps to a central platform. A beam of light shines down from above, coming through a hole seemingly positioned for the very purpose of highlighting a black box hovering at shoulder height. Before Trip can give me one of his cryptic statements, I assume we have to bring the box with us in order to activate the portal out of here. Perhaps it tames down the maelstrom above enough to jump into it without being torn apart.

  Th
e narrow pathway leading to the platform is barely wider than my wooden shoes. Glancing down, the bottom of the tower is just a gloomy abyss, too dark to see what should be a pile of reptilian bodies. The last thing I want to do is fall. I mean, aside from the sudden stop at the bottom, I don’t want to land in that mess.

  Oddly, the lizard people all stop their movements as I carefully transit the ledge. I don’t know if they’re curious to see if I fall or this is something new, but it leaves me with an uneasy feeling. It’s like they’re expecting some grand scene to play out and don’t want to miss a moment of it. At the hovering black box, I circle it looking for any sign of a trap. I can’t figure out how it’s being held up, but in these worlds, that’s not surprising.

  I wonder if I’m supposed to leave something in its place like Indiana Jones, that the beam of light being interrupted might trigger something harmful. My fear is that the platform may just disappear or fall apart should I just grab the box. But I don’t see an alternative. I don’t have anything near the size of the box, which is only about a foot wide by about six inches tall. I remove my tanto and place it in the beam of light to see if it will hover in the box’s place, but I have to catch it out of the air when it starts falling. Knowing I don’t have a lot of time, I start running and snag the box, hoping to be well down the narrow ledge when the platform starts failing.

  Well, I don’t know why I thought perhaps nothing would happen. Perhaps it was hard wishful thinking. As one, the Herpesians open their mouths and fill the interior with a loud hissing roar. They reveal a set of teeth a shark would be proud of, built specifically for the rending and tearing of flesh and bone. Not only do they react like this, but go through some sort of transformation that brings them out of their lethargy. No longer are they slow-moving, predictable beings, but demonstrate an agility that makes them far more dangerous. The ones above and below start clambering the walls, the click of their claws echoing within.

  The fight has now started in earnest. My katana is a blur of motion, cutting through one creature after another while holding on to the black box. The air is filled with the mist of their dark blood, the blade cutting easily through the thick lizard skin. Like before, many of the Herpesian fall to their death, most of them trailing streams of blood. But we can’t advance any farther due to the onslaught of lizard people. They come from the stairs, from the walls above, and from below. Trip has found some elf-like agility with his slingshot, the band snapping and being reloaded with blinding speed. I’m continually ducking to avoid outstretched claws and countering with swings of my own.

  There’s an abrupt break of the endless supply of lizard people that had been in front, a clear path to the door leading outside. Below, more Herpesians are emerging from the numerous doorways like smoke. I grab Trip by his collar, and with him still firing at those coming up from behind, make a dash for the door. I long ago gave up the wooden shoes for fear of stumbling at the wrong time, but Trip is still wearing his. The clop of his footsteps is heard above the continual hissing of the creatures as we run for daylight. Bursting through the door, the sun’s rays are blinding after fighting in the gloom.

  I don’t stop, running a little ways down the path. I notice that the dark maelstrom that was on top of this tower has now moved to the next one about a quarter of a mile away. Without slowing, I continue racing for the perceived portal out of here. I have no idea what the black box is for or how to activate it, but I hope that becomes apparent when we reach the vortex.

  Herpesians pour out of the door behind, giving chase. They run along the wide pathway, on top of the crenellations, or along the outside of the wall itself. Amazingly, Trip is keeping up, even though he’s running on those platform shoes. He actually seems to be more agile on them than I’ve seen him before. I don’t know why I’m surprised.

  The clack of the creatures’ talons on the stone is loud. I know if we slow for any reason, they’ll be on us within seconds. I don’t know if we have another gear, but I know I can keep this speed up for a quarter mile. After that, well, we’ll just have to see.

  My breath is coming fast and hard as we near the next tower. As I’m about to set foot on the widened pathway that marks the tower, the vortex vanishes, reappearing on the next one over.

  “You have to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter, starting off after it.

  My speed isn’t nearly what it was for the quarter mile dash, but I hope it’s fast enough to stay in front of the pursuing Herpesians. A quick glance shows them halted where the last tower started, hissing and milling to try and find a way past what seems to be an invisible barrier. I slow up, pointing back as I try and catch my breath.

  “They can’t go past the boundary of the adjacent tower,” Trip says, pulling out a bag of Phritos and stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth.

  “Do you mean the Herpesians can’t get past any tower next to them?” I inquire.

  “Any creature of a tower can’t go past the next tower. It’s the rule,” Trip says, spraying chips everywhere.

  “Wait, each tower has its own creature?”

  Trip nods, tipping the bag into his mouth.

  Worried about what might come out of the tower we just passed, I keep an eye on the Herpesians as we proceed toward the vortex at a more relaxed trot. I’m worried that we’ll miss this one before it transitions to the next tower. I don’t want to march along the entire length of the Great Wall, attempting to catch up to the way out.

  As we approach, the swirling vortex again vanishes only to reappear at the next tower.

  “Fuck me,” I say, stopping.

  “You do know there will be another train along shortly,” Trip mentions.

  “Do you mean to say that we can just wait here for another one of those to show up?”

  Trip nods.

  “Why in the fuck didn’t you tell me in the first place?”

  “You seemed so eager to catch this one,” Trip answers.

  “I swear you’re going to get me killed one of these days,” I mutter.

  Curious as to what alien creature might be associated with this tower, I ease the door open a touch and peek inside. A large tentacled monster is rising above a tempestuous ocean. Giant waves pound outward from the flailing creature as it smashes wooden ships from existence. Overhead, dark clouds roil with lightning striking the boiling waters.

  “Okay, I’ll just leave that in there,” I mumble, easing the door back closed, not even questioning that it’s physically impossible to hold what I just saw inside the boundaries of the tower’s interior.

  True to his word, the swirling vortices appear in the opposite direction, staying for a minute or so before moving on to the next. They draw closer and every question I have for Trip regarding what we’re supposed to do when it arrives is met with any and every kind of answer…except for something clear and specific. However, if we miss this one, another will appear. I figure I’ll eventually figure out what I’m supposed to do. As long as the creatures remain confined within their towers and boundaries, we have time. That is, with the exception that I have some anxiety with wanting to help Mike.

  The vortex appears at our tower, spiraling into existence and roaring into the air. There’s no way I’m just going to jump into it, as I doubt I’ll make it through before being ripped apart. The colored streaks embedded within the dark mass seem kind of like a reverse rainbow. With an abruptness that startles me into taking a step back while brandishing my sword, a man jumps out of the seething inferno. He lands a short distance away, brushing imaginary dust from his patchwork clothing. His long, gray and black hair is tangled and wild, forming around his head like a bird’s nest. His bushy beard and drooping mustache are much the same. The eyes that eventually meet mine are anything but sane, but there’s an intensity and deepness to them that’s hard to turn away from.

  “Oh, you there. Did you bring the box?” the man asks, holding a bony hand out.

  I hand the box over and the man sets it on the ground.

&nb
sp; “Be quiet, you worthless lizard,” he says, looking back over his should at the seething maelstrom.

  Yeah, this dude has really lost it.

  “And the scroll?” he inquires, facing us again.

  For a moment, I’m worried that I missed picking up something on the way here and might have to retrace our steps in order to find it. Trip reaches into the depths of his voluminous sleeve and withdraws a rolled parchment.

  “Very good…very good,” the crazed man says, snatching the scroll.

  He unrolls it and starts perusing it, muttering, “Ah, yes” every few seconds.

  “Perfect,” he announces upon finishing it.

  He then flings it upward at the vortex. The scroll tumbles through the air, and as it nears the seething mass, it turns to ash with a quick flash of flame.

  “My original Verizon contract. I now consider that null and void. Let them try and prove differently,” the man says with a huge grin.

  What in the serious fuck?!

  He bends down to retrieve the box. Flipping open a hidden lid, three black buttons and one white is revealed.

  “Now to end my Comcast one,” he laughs, pressing down on the white button.

  Everything narrows to a small point of light, like an old television being turned off. Then even that blinks out and it all goes dark.

  14

  Jack Walker – Chapter Eight

  The darkness lasts only a second and I’m suddenly flying the hovercraft. The transition is disorienting to say the least, and it takes me a few moments to become oriented. Once I have the craft under control, I’m able to ascertain my surroundings.

  The first thing I notice, and I don’t see how it could be any different, is a giant tentacle through the windshield. The thing is monstrously thick. Turning quickly, we shoot past, but I see others moving through the air all around. The surface of this new world is flat and featureless and looks to be made of light blue glass. I’m fairly certain this is the same place I last saw Mike.

  Avoiding the long arms, I bring the ship around for a better look. The numerous tentacles are attached to creatures drawn straight out of some sci-fi channel. They are all tentacles attached to a head some ninety feet or more off the ground. It kind of looks like what the Space Needle might, should it become alive…and grow a shit ton more arms. Or legs…as the tentacles seem to function as both.