by Mark Tufo
“And one is even now avenging you.”
“What would you have me do?” I was near to crying.
“Her love for you is one of the purest I have ever borne witness to.”
“And?”
“I can get you back.”
“Maker, I’m so tired. This life I have lived, it’s more than anyone could be expected to endure. I don’t age, so that doesn’t factor in like it should. And the weight of each being I have loved and lost; it bears a tangible toll. This loss; it’s something I drag around with me; it taxes my resources and drains away my spirit. There are times when I feel I am barely plodding on.”
“Consider.” He waved his hand and the far side of the terminal, where the white wall had been, was now what appeared to be a large screen; I was peering into Azile’s home. She was sitting with the children, reading a book. A couple of years had passed; the kids looked to be around five-years-old. When she was done with the story, she kissed both of their heads and tucked them in. She walked out of their bedroom, to the living room, where she sat on the couch, hands clasped in front of her. Deep, heavy sobs racked her body. Oggie got up stiffly from the corner of the room where he had been lounging on a pillow. He laid his head on her thigh; she absently rubbed his fur.
“I miss him so much, Oggie.” She could barely get the words out. I thought my heart was going to get stuck in my throat as I watched.
“This happens every night,” Maker said.
“What would you have me do?” My vision blurred from the tears.
“Go back, live out your natural life,” he replied.
It took a moment for those words to sink in. “No vampire? No luvier? And more importantly, no Poena?”
“All of those elements have been removed.”
“I could go back and live a normal life? No more fighting?”
“I did not say no more fighting; after all, she is a female of your species and you are a male, prone to making mistakes.”
“Fair enough. So what happens? I show up on her doorstep three years after my demise? I would think the shock of that would be too much. Plus, I’m thinking my body might be a tad bit ripe. And how have I already been gone that long?”
“For some, the journey here is instantaneous; for others, the route is circuitous.”
“I am going to have to tell Tracy this. I always used to give her shit about her ‘flight of the bumblebee’ routine whenever we went to the grocery store, and now I’ve done the ultimate sidestepping, backtracking thing ever.” I was thinking about Tracy, but I was seeing the acute pain and suffering Azile was going through. “So, a regular life: aches, pains, grow old and fade away type of thing?”
“Something like that.”
“Something like that. I love getting vagaries from my maker. Leaves no room for interpretation. So what happens now?”
“Tonight, as she sleeps, you will visit her dreams.”
“That’s it?”
“It’s a start.”
I watched Azile stand. She bent over to give Oggie a kiss and then headed for her room. I felt strange being a voyeur to my wife. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for some time before drifting off.
“You’re up,” Maker said.
“You make it sound like a baseball game.”
“Don’t disappoint me.”
“Yeah, no pressure there.”
There was a moment as I passed from one realm to another; I felt a mild electrical current upon the surface of my skin, and before the sensation could subside, I found myself in a place I recognized immediately. In my mind, I had just left; to the one dreaming, three years had passed. The ambient light was a dark and forbidding red; a storm raged all around, lightning bolts slammed into the ground and the heavy percussion of thunder rumbled my innards. That was all for show. The main focus was Eliza bent over my fallen body, repeatedly plunging a knife into me and a desperate Azile, struggling in an entanglement made from her own mind, attempting to get to me and failing miserably. My heart was wrenched with the thought of how many times she had played out this scenario.
“Time to mix it up,” I said as I moved quickly to the scene. I raised the sword I magically had, and sliced at Eliza, who dissolved on contact. I now had the unenviable position of looking upon my mangled body. “Go,” I urged it, just as Azile finally got her limbs to move at a more normal speed, and not the molasses-laden ones of nightmares everywhere.
“Michael?” She looked where I had been, then to where I was now. “Is it truly you?”
“It is.”
She ran up and wrapped me in a hug; a heavy weeping poured forth from her and soaked the front of my shirt. I was thankful that somewhere along the line I had lost the toga. The lightning and thunder stopped, the storm clouds receded, and the light turned a more natural hue.
“What took you so long?” she asked, not letting me go, fearful I was still just a figment of her overtaxed consciousness.
“I think I took a right at Albuquerque when I was supposed to take a left.”
Her grip remained tight, but she eased back so she could look into my eyes. “It is you.” She sighed and placed her head on my shoulder. “It’s been so hard without you. I have never loved anyone as I have loved you; I don’t think I ever could.”
“Well, no shit. I’m like the ultimate package. Let’s face it, you hit the lottery when you scored me. Maybe I should have played the field a little longer and seen how I could have done, but it’s probably for the best to not piss off the Red Witch. And, anyway, I guess it worked out okay. How have the kids been?”
“They were too young to understand, and still are, for the most part, but they can feel the absence–if only because it affects me so much. How is it where you are?”
“White. Lots and lots of white. I’m in a train station of sorts.”
“Where’s the train going?” She looked concerned.
“Well, that’s the thing. Maker says I can come home.”
There was a guarded hope in her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she should trust what was happening here.
“And?” she asked.
“I’ll be a normal human. No demon blood of any variety running through me. I’ll be mortal.”
“I have a strict ‘no mortal’ dating clause in my contract, but I’m sure I can make an exception.”
“Then, you want me home?”
“Of course! A thousand times over. Whether we have one more year together or fifty, just to hold you in my arms again….” She began to cry anew.
“It’s okay, honey.”
“But what if I wake up and all of this was just a dream? I’ve been trying to put my shattered heart together for a thousand days and nights, I don’t know if I can go through that again.”
“I’m coming, Azile. I don’t know how this is going to work, but it’s Maker–I’m sure he’s got something figured out. I’ll see you soon,” I told her and I gave her a lingering kiss.
There was the familiar tingle as I was once again transported across realms. I found myself alone at the train station. There was a folded over piece of paper on the bench; I went over and opened it to read the scrawled message upon it. The first thing that struck me was how shitty Maker’s penmanship was.
“I guess you don’t get much practice. When was the last time you wrote anything? The ten commandments?” No response, but I got the sense he was watching and enjoying himself. The note read as follows: “The train will be along shortly. If you get on it, I can’t promise you what the rest of your natural days will entail, but know that when it is over, you will have a place in my home.”
“What if I don’t get on it?” I asked.
“We both know the answer to that,” his voice rang out.
“Yeah, I know. And, Maker? One more thing, seeing as you owe me.”
There was a heavy sigh, though I felt he was more amused than upset.
“Thank you.” I said when I was done.
The train looked more like a sleek Jeep, bu
t I was alright with that. The door opened automatically and I hopped right in. Instead of moving along a track, there was an intense white light and pain, lots and lots of pain. I had the distinct impression I was being born. And since I ended up on a bed of moss, naked and covered in a fair amount of what I am going to call goo, that’s the most likely comparison. I sat up. The sun was shifting through the canopy; I could hear a fair-sized stream and headed off to it, motivated by the desire to get this gooey film off of me before it dried. The water was bracing but also electrifying. I was now wide awake as I took in my surroundings. I wasn’t all that sure of where I was, and roaming the countryside like this wasn’t the best idea. I had just climbed back up the bank when I heard something rustling through some bushes off to my left. Whatever it was, it was not small.
I couldn’t imagine fighting my way back to this point only to be done in by a wild boar. I looked around by my feet–the only weapons available were a four-ounce rock or a rotten stick.
“Fantastic,” I said sarcastically as I looked at my arsenal. The rooting around stopped; the animal had heard me.
When that fawn-colored creature burst through an opening he had made, at first I cried out in surprise, then in happiness.
“Oggie! You wonderful beast!” I said as he jumped into my arms. I arched my back to hold on to him. He was undoing all the hard work I had accomplished cleaning myself off, as he licked my entire face. Slobber was rolling off my cheeks and pooling on and around my feet. The thing about Oggie was that he was an extremely large dog and, therefore, extremely heavy.
“Guess this is what it feels like to be human,” I said as my back twinged. I put him down before he was ready. He was whining and running fast circles around me, licking my legs.
“Oggie!” Azile shouted out. “Where have you gotten to, dog! You act like I never feed you! Oggie! Come here pup–it’s lunchtime!”
Oggie began to whine and bark. He wanted to obey her commands, but he did not want to leave my side. I decided to make it easy for him and moved towards the sound of her voice.
“Oggie?” Azile asked when she realized that more than her four-legged friend was coming.
She was a vision as I stepped out into the clearing. She took a step backward, I think in surprise. “What is this?”
“Remember your dream?”
“That was real? I had hoped…” She had a hand by her chest and throat. She moved forward, picking up steam. If I thought the dog had hit me hard, he had nothing on Azile. We both went down in a heap. She kissed me crazily, she kissed me passionately, pausing once to tell me I tasted like dog, though it didn’t stop her. When she finally sat up, she took notice that I was nude. “You do realize you have no clothes on, right?”
“The better to show you how happy I am to see you,” I told her as we both looked upon my sundial.
“Put that thing away!” I laughed as I looked down to see an astonished Linnick. Maker made good on his debt, and I, well, I made good on my promise. Azile and I wed. We had a small ceremony, and I was happy and proud to call her my wife.
Time Moves Ever Forward
* * *
It was incredible to be with my family. We traveled to Denarth and Talboton a couple of times over the years, but I was mostly done wandering. Stonemar and Orderg visited a few times, can’t say at any point previously in my life I would have ever invited demons into my home. But as far as creatures borne from hell, they were pretty decent, although they generally ate everything we had. Saw Kalandar one more time, he seemed much happier to roam the world, maybe he was looking for a peace he’d never attained before. As for me, home was where I wanted to be above all else, to be with my wife, my children, my dog. Ten years later when I laid that magnificent beast into the ground, I cried for seven days straight. The only thing that gave me any measure of peace was Maker’s words that he would be there waiting. The children grew into adulthood and their immeasurable powers; we had a few adventures, but those are their stories to tell; I was merely along as an advisor by that time, as I had begun to feel every bit my age. I’d ache for no particular reason, my hair turned silver, and for some unfathomable reason, I preferred dinner earlier and earlier each night. Azile thought that was the funniest thing ever. For a while, it was strange with Azile, merely for the fact that she forever looked like the beauty she was and well, I was looking more and more like a sugar daddy for her digging of gold.
She never said anything, but at some point I think she saw how uncomfortable I was with this. She placed a charm over herself so that she began to magically age as well, though she kept the pace slow and the silver at a minimum. It looked good on her. We found ourselves more and more sitting on the porch, just holding hands.
I was somewhere in my late eighties or early nineties; winter was approaching. Something wasn’t right in my chest. If I’d had an MRI, I’m sure they would have found some inoperable mass.
“I think it’s time,” I told the second love of my life, as we sat there, holding hands. I was wrapped up in about twelve blankets as the first of the snow fell.
Azile cried much as I had over Oggie’s passing. I comforted her as best I could, but I found it difficult to move my arms.
“I consider myself the luckiest man in the world, Azile. Some never find their one true soul mate, I did it twice. I love you.”
She let out a sob, leaned in for one last kiss. “Please, Michael; stay.”
I was staring off into the grey storm clouds. A confused smile played on my lips. “Tommy? Is that you?”
“It is, Mr. T. I’m a greeter here! Welcome!”
“The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
Epilogue
“I’m glad you came,” Mathieu said, he was lying in bed. A cough racked his body; he spat a bloody wad into a napkin he had been holding. “Go on, you lot. I would like to talk to my old friend without all your sad faces around.” He managed to smile.
“Okay, Three G,” A petite, blonde haired girl said as she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the forehead.
“Don’t tell anyone, Chloe, but you’re my favorite great-great-granddaughter.”
“You’re so silly, Three G! I’m your only great-great-granddaughter.”
“I’m old! How am I supposed to remember things like that? Now go and see if you can find me some mead.”
“Mama says you shouldn’t have anymore.”
“She’s no fun.” He kissed the girl and sent her on her way.
“Three G?” Azile asked.
“It’s easier than great-great-grandfather, and it doesn’t make me feel as old.”
“We are old,” Azile said as she pulled up a chair.
“Yes, but only one of us looks it. I’m not long for this world, Azile, and I’m ready. I’ve had a lot of time to think about grief; I’ve come up with a new way to deal with it.”
“And what way would that be?” she asked.
“In this unnaturally long life I have found myself in, I have watched nearly all those I have loved diminish and die. There is a fee; each loss another burden to carry upon my soul. From what you have told me, in the process of grief there are five widely recognized stages, the last being acceptance. I, however, do not believe it to be acceptance, per se, but rather, realization. Realization that you are one day further removed from the loss, and one day closer to being reunited.
“So, it isn’t that grief fades over time, but rather the further away you move from the passing, the more you begin to grasp that you are that much closer to being back together?”
He nodded.
“Who knew werewolves could be philosophers?” She smiled as she stroked his head.
“I am ready to be back with Lana, and with my first wife, my children, their children, Mike, all of them.”
Your first wife? Not sure how Lana is going to feel about that.”
“Lately, Michael has been visiting me often in my dreams. I have gained a lot of insight on what lies on the other side.
I fear the transition, but there is great comfort in knowing what is to happen.”
AUTHOR NOTES
Mark Journal Entry 1
Hello, good peoples. I hope you enjoyed the book and its conclusion. First, I’ll start with the genesis of this project, which some of you may already know, and then kind of wrap up any lingering thoughts. Sometime back in 2012, my wife and I were heading to get some coffee from Dunkin Donuts. Sounds pedestrian enough and it is; the only difference is that, unlike most folks, for us, a trip to Dunkin’s is a haul. We live out in the sticks, so everything is a road trip.
Anyway, we’d no sooner started out and the missus turns to me and says: “Werewolves are pretty big right now.”
My response was, “That’s nice.”
I wasn’t sure what she wanted from me. I was in the midst of writing the Zombie Fallout and Indian Hill series, and I’m sure something else.
She responds back with, “I think you should write one.”
“Woman, you realize I’m pretty busy, right?”
“It wasn’t really a question.”
Of course, she was somewhat kidding, but she knew exactly what she was doing. She’d planted a seed, and sometimes the soil is fertile enough for the idea to grow and become its own series. Taking Mike and fast forwarding him a hundred and fifty years into the future, away from his Zombie Fallout roots, seemed like a great idea. The world was finally coming back from the brink, but all modern amenities were gone. I wanted to write more of a Wild West motif. Now the problem was, how do I do that without giving too much away from what has happened and what hasn’t even happened yet, in the ZF world, which was still being developed. I didn’t want to pigeon-hole myself, like, somehow write myself into a corner before I even got to the next book, if that makes sense.
See, that’s the thing with Mike’s multiverse; thankfully, it’s flexible. Things are developing in the ZF world now, as of this writing, that I could not have foreseen way back in Lycan Fallout 1, and I don’t want to be hamstrung. Then we come to the Tommy situation. Holy shit. I kind of thought there’d be some blowback from his “turning;” I had no idea the sheer amount and ferocity. Some loved it, I think…most loathed it. I went back and forth like a pendulum as I was writing the scenes, even after the book came out. So just so you know, after Demon Fallout, I had no idea how that whole situation was going to turn out.