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A Shrouded World 4

Page 4

by Mark Tufo


  I’m still having trouble understanding why this charming little town was built at the base of an active volcano. I mean, it seems to be doing well, but it would only take a slight swelling of the lava levels to send the molten flow down the hill and over the town.

  I move to a location that gives a good view of the slope I fought on the night before, wanting to see it from the residents’ perspective. Looking over the tops of roofs, I’m not sure what to think. I squeeze my eyes closed and shake my head as if to resynch my brain, but the view remains the same.

  Above the town is a dense forest covering the slope, rising to a level where it ends against thrust stands of granite that form a long ridge. I move to examine the other side of the valley and see the same sight I observed the previous day. I orient myself, thinking I’ve somehow gotten turned around, but the tree-covered ridge is the same one that I descended. There’s no sign of the lava field or cauldron.

  What the fuck?!

  I scan the area more closely, but there’s nothing that remotely resembles where I spent the night and fought the night runners. Sure, the terrain in general looks the same, but trees cover the area. I have to say that it’s a blow to my confidence. If I can’t trust what I’ve seen or where I’ve been, what chance do I have to figure out anything?

  This doesn’t bode well at all.

  “Jack? Jack? Is that you?” I hear a voice call from behind.

  I ignore the call. There’s no way that it’s meant for me. The shout is in the background of my conscious while I stare up the hill, trying to figure shit out.

  “Jack?” The voice becomes more insistent, intruding into my consciousness.

  I turn and see a man standing outside the restaurant I passed, holding the door open with one hand. He’s staring straight at me, but I don’t recognize him at all.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. It is you,” the man says, letting the door go and walking toward me.

  I’m on edge already, but this man is pushing me closer to sanity’s abyss. I know for a fact that I’ve never seen this person before, but the light in his hazel eyes and smile sure shows he knows me. I’m not sure this is a good thing.

  I back up a step as the man crowds my personal space, which sometimes extends for city blocks. He shows no sign of slowing down, and I’m not sure what to do. It’s obvious that he thinks he knows me. I mean, he called my name. However, my instinct to throat punch him to gain more personal space probably isn’t the wise call in this situation. That’s a sure way in to a holding tank and having my pack searched. I wince from the pain in my side and shoulders as the man, who is of a similar build, wraps me in a hug.

  He releases his embrace and holds me at arm’s length, a hand on each shoulder.

  “It’s been a long time. How have you been?” he asks, staring into my eyes.

  I continue staring, knowing I should say something, but have no idea how to respond. His expression becomes one of confusion.

  “It’s me, Bill.”

  I stand and gaze at the man, attempting to recognize anyone from my past who looks like him. I come up with nothing and merely stare at the man in front of me, seeing where this goes.

  “Surely it hasn’t been so long that you don’t recognize me,” the man responds after a moment.

  I shake my head.

  “Your brother?”

  “Uh…” I begin to say.

  “What happened to you?” Bill asks, looking closer and noticing the scratches.

  “I stepped wrong descending those hills,” I answer, still not sure what in the fuck is going on.

  I’m an only child, which certainly means that I never had a brother. But, who knows what may have occurred in this world. This also means that there must be another Jack roaming around somewhere, which creates a very awkward and confusing situation. For one of the first times in my life, I’m speechless and at a loss for how to proceed. It’s going to become obvious very quickly that I’m not this guy’s brother, and I ponder going in the “mistaken identity” direction.

  “What in the hell were you doing up there? No one goes up there, you know that…or you should,” Bill replies.

  “I got lost,” I say.

  “You really don’t remember me, do you? The Army must have really fucked with your mind. I’ve heard that’s happening more and more, you know, with how the war is being fought. But, never mind that, you’re home now. Come on, Lynn will want to see you,” Bill responds.

  “Lynn?” I query.

  That name sends my heart racing and I’m not sure I like where this is going. Bill is absolutely positive that he is my brother. I must look like a complete idiot standing on the sidewalk with my jaw hanging open. I’m sure I’ll begin drooling at any moment and am starting to regret coming into this town. On one hand, I’m eager to see this Lynn, but also fearful of what I might find. My heart is racing with indecision and I feel light-headed. This shit is moving far too quickly for my liking.

  “Oh, sure. You remember Lynn, but not your own brother. That figures. Come on, I’ll drop by the office and tell them I’m taking the rest of the day off. We’ll head to the house and get you fixed up,” Bill says, releasing one arm and tugging me along with him.

  “Bill, I’m going to be honest with you, and I hope you take this the right way, but I don’t know you and feel that you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” I say, planting my feet to resist the pull.

  “Nonsense. You’re Jack. I’d know you anywhere. You must have taken a few knocks on that thick skull of yours, that’s all. What you need is a good home-cooked meal and some rest. It’ll come back to you. We’ll go visit the doc in the morning, although he’ll just tell us what we already know, that the bone is solid from one ear to the other,” Bill replies. “Memory malfunction aside, it’s damn good to see you.”

  There has never been a more surreal moment than this one. Bill resumes his pull and releases his grip as I take the first couple of steps in his path.

  Might as well see where this leads, I think, still worrying about what I’ll find. He must think he’s dealing with a simpleton with the way I’ve reacted so far.

  “Just throw your pack in the back seat,” Bill says after a stop to let folks know he’s taking the day off. I had opted to wait outside even though Bill had wanted to introduce me around the office.

  “Oh, come on. Tom’s inside. You remember Tom, right? You two were best friends,” Bill had said.

  “No, I don’t remember anything along those lines. I really must have hit my head hard. I think I’d rather stay out here if it’s all the same,” I responded.

  “Maybe we should get you over to the doc right away,” Bill stated with concern, but I shook my head. “Fair enough, tomorrow then.”

  We drove a few blocks, turning into the same residential area I had traversed a short time ago.

  “This might seem an odd question, but how long was I gone?” I question.

  “Oh, shit. Let’s see…ten…no wait, it must have been fifteen years. And not a single word from you. What happened?” Bill answers.

  “I don’t know,” I reply, getting a quizzical look in response.

  “You just took off when the recruiter visited. You know, that’s always confused me. I’d never taken you for wanting to join the Army. You were always…” Bill states, letting the sentence trail off.

  “I was always what?”

  “Never mind, you’re back,” Bill responds.

  “No, seriously. I was always what?”

  Bill sighs heavily. “Don’t take this wrong, but you were, well, soft.”

  I start laughing. “Soft, eh?”

  “That may be the wrong wording. Kindhearted? But you closed up when Dad died, became harder, I guess. Then, you just left without a word.”

  I have no idea how to respond to something like that. I’m listening to a stranger’s evaluation of someone else’s life. I just want to throw open the door and bolt, be somewhere else. I glance in the back seat at my pack and contemplat
e grabbing it and leaping from the vehicle. I visualize rolling across the pavement and racing back into the trees. This façade will be discovered before long, and I’ll end up in a mental institution.

  We pull into a driveway. Grabbing my pack, I look to the forested slopes rising above the row of houses. This whole situation is overwhelming. I’d rather fight a pack of night runners than continue with whatever is going on. The house is a modest single-story with a well-kept lawn and a row of blooming flowers lining the driveway and front yard. Trimmed bushes separate Bill’s house from the adjacent ones. It looks, well, almost too perfect, like I’ve transitioned into some feel-good book.

  Bill climbs the steps to a covered porch that extends the length of the front, complete with a swinging bench hanging from chains bolted to the ceiling. A white-painted railing circles the porch, adding to the illusion of perfection.

  Opening the front door, Bill calls out, “Lynn, come and see what I’ve dragged in.”

  “Just a minute,” I hear a voice reply from one of the back rooms.

  That voice. Fuck! There’s no way. It can’t be.

  I stand transfixed, wanting to both bolt out of the open door and see who that voice is attached to.

  “Just set that there,” Bill says, nodding toward my pack and pointing to a place in the foyer under a rack of hanging jackets.

  “I’ll keep it with me, thanks.”

  Bill shrugs and we step into the living room. The room opens further back to a dining room complete with a table surrounded by six chairs. A bouquet of fresh flowers in a crystal vase sits in the middle. A woman walks out of the kitchen off to the side, wiping her hands on an apron.

  “I didn’t expect you home so early…” the woman begins saying, looking up.

  We meet each other’s eyes, both of us wearing identical expressions of disbelief. Her hair is longer, but still the same fine golden strands. Her blue eyes are wide with shock. My knees are weak and I feel faint. My heart thuds against my ribs and I have to force the fomenting tears back inside. Lynn, my Lynn, is standing across the room, her hands gripping the folds of her apron.

  “Oh my God! Jack?” she says, releasing her tight grip and striding forward.

  I don’t know what to say or do. Lynn is obviously Bill’s wife and I don’t know how to take that. I don’t know if I can. I have to remind myself that this is a different world; she’s not my Lynn. But, seeing her evokes emotions beyond belief. I’ll tear this town to its foundations to be with her.

  Coming across the living room, she wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. I don’t feel the deep ache this causes, I just relish the taut, diminutive body pressed against mine. I try to keep my composure, but it’s not easy, feeling the press of her breasts. I can’t help it and I throw my arms around her, holding her close for a moment, breathing in the smell of her hair with my chin nestled on her shoulder.

  “It’s good to see you,” Lynn says, pulling back as we both release.

  I hadn’t wanted to let go, but to not do so would have been ultra-awkward.

  “Where have you been? What have you been doing? What happened to you?”

  “I found him wondering the streets in town. He said he slipped and fell down the hillside,” Bill says.

  “You were in the hills?” Lynn exclaims. “What were you doing up there? Never mind, come sit down,” Lynn says, nodding toward the dining room. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

  I sit and place my pack at my feet as Lynn heads into the back of the house.

  “Can I get you anything? Water?” Bill asks.

  “No, I’m good, thanks,” I respond.

  “Okay, make yourself at home. I’ll be right back,” Bill says, following Lynn’s path.

  I’m left at the table taken aback by events. First, a brother I never had is together with Lynn. To be honest, I feel a little nauseous. This is the kind of nightmare I was hoping to avoid by going into Mike’s world. I might as well have gone with them. At least then I’d have Trip to throw his magic fairy dust into the air.

  “Where has he been? What did he say he’s been doing?” I hear Lynn ask.

  I hear them whispering somewhere in the back; they obviously don’t know that, with my increased hearing, they’re clearly audible.

  “He says he doesn’t remember anything,” Bill responds.

  “What do you mean he doesn’t remember anything?” Lynn queries.

  “Just that, Lynn. He said he doesn’t know me and that I’ve mistaken him with someone else. I’m inclined to believe him; there isn’t the faintest hint of recognition. Not an ounce. And, to be honest, he seems, well, kind of slow,” Bill says. “But, I know it’s him. I mean, look at him. I’d know my own brother anywhere.”

  “Of course it’s him. He must have hit his head and has a concussion from his fall. I mean, look at those injuries. I’m sure he’ll come around,” Lynn replies. “He needs to be seen by the doc.”

  “I already offered, but he didn’t want to go.”

  “If he can’t remember anything, then we need to take him regardless.”

  “Well, he obviously remembers you,” Bill states.

  I hear Lynn chuckle. “Jealous already? Bill, you know I made my choice a long time ago, and I haven’t regretted it. So, just let that go.”

  Bill gives a small laugh. “Okay, fine. Sorry. You know me too well.”

  “Don’t you ever forget that. We need to get back or this is going to look a little weird. That’s Jack, and he’ll come around. If he’s not better tomorrow, we’ll take him in.”

  “I just hope he’s okay. I wonder what happened to him, where he went—and what in the fuck was he doing in the hills? I’m just worried about him, that’s all.”

  “Me too. Now, get back in there while I get some alcohol and bandages,” Lynn says.

  The word “surreal” doesn’t even begin to cover the world I’ve found myself in. While Bill and Lynn—it’s difficult to even think that name given the situation—may be a valuable source of information, I’m not sure I can stay. My heartbeat feels weak and thready and I’m sure I’m coming across as “slow,” as Bill put it. At some point, this charade will end and they’ll both realize I’m not who they think I am. Somewhere in this world is another Jack who is Bill’s actual brother.

  With the sound of Bill’s footsteps returning, I try and organize my jumbled thoughts. I hope the conversation doesn’t head down the “remember the time we” avenue. They’ll bundle me up and take me down to a medical facility where I’ll be interred in a mental ward and subjected to endless therapy sessions.

  Pulling out a chair, Bill sits and points at the pack. “Is that all you have?”

  Looking down, I reply, “Yeah. All my worldly possessions packed inside a small compartment.”

  Lynn returns and begins daubing alcohol on the scratches and wounds covering my face.

  “It looks like you fought with a bear,” she says, setting a blood-spotted cotton ball on the table.

  “Something like that,” I respond.

  “I thought you said you fell,” Bill says.

  I shrug.

  “What were you doing in the hills, anyway?”

  “Sightseeing,” I answer.

  Lynn continues her ministrations.

  “We always talked about climbing into the mountains, but never mustered the courage. There’s a reason no one ventures much past the town limits,” Bill says.

  “Refresh my memory. What’s in the hills that has everyone so scared?” I ask.

  “You really don’t remember, do you? All kinds of stories, but no one has ever confirmed any of them. Monsters, bandits, all measures of things. All that’s really known is that anyone who goes too high never returns. Not believing the stories, a few have ventured into the woods and—but not a single one has ever made their way back from there. So, the council passed a law prohibiting anyone from going up into the hills,” Bill answers. “And then, here you show up saying you’ve been there, but don’t remember
a thing.”

  “Oh, I remember things, just not about here. I’ll be honest, Bill, I still think you have the wrong person. I don’t have a single memory about you or this place,” I state.

  “Of course it’s you, Jack,” Lynn replies, replacing the cap on the alcohol bottle. “You just hit your head. You’ll recover in time.”

  I don’t think any amount of time will recover memories I just don’t have, but I don’t say anything further and merely give a smile. Her smile in return penetrates deeply, causing my heart to stir. That’s the smile that has always brought a flood of warmth, but now it carries a stab of pain. I turn to look at Bill, again trying to associate his face with someone in my past, but no luck.

  “Now, I’m going to put these away and finish dinner. The kids will be home soon. I’ll add another plate,” Lynn says, rising and giving me a kiss on the top of my head. “It’s good to have you back.”

  I notice a quick hint of jealousy flash through Bill’s eyes, but then it’s gone. I’m guessing that he and his brother fought over Lynn’s affections at one point. I don’t know this other Jack, but I’m venturing that he left on account of it rather than stay in a place where he lost Lynn. I know I wouldn’t have stayed, having to see them together every day.

  However, I take little notice as the word “kids” slams into me like a freight train. This is truly becoming too much. Trip and I will have a lot to talk about should we ever meet again.

  The sunlight coming through the front windows indicates that the day has shoved its way into afternoon. With that comes an additional feeling of dread. This town will be in danger once the sun sets. Bill mentioned monsters in the hills, but he has no idea what this place will face if the night runners come through portals like they did last night. I didn’t see anything regarding storied monsters on the slopes above, but the night runners are real and will roll through this town like a hot knife through butter.

  “You know, Jack, you’re the only one to actually make it down from the hills. And you arrive all cut up and bruised. What’s up there? What did you see?” Bill asks.

 

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