The Unyielding Future

by Brian O'Grady

  “Obviously that didn’t happen,” Tom said.

  “Obviously,” Adis confirmed.

  “So how did you escape?”

  “With difficulty.” Adis settled back into the uncomfortable concrete bench. “As I sat there listening to the villagers decide on the exact ritual by which I should be destroyed, I could feel that something had changed; it was as if the very bonds of time began to strain. I wasn’t the only one; my guards felt something as well. They started whispering amongst themselves, and then one by one they ran off. A cold wind had begun to blow from the mountains and it was the only thing that disturbed the unnatural silence. Even the birds and insects that hours earlier had been so noisy that I was able to walk into the village unheard had suddenly become still. Then even the wind stopped. The air became thick and stagnant and it was hard to draw a breath. Before dawn, the elders finished their discussion and my manner of death had been decided. As each man stepped from the building, the oppressive heaviness struck them. They all hurried home, save one. I watched Constantin skulk from the back of the building. Before disappearing into the darkness he stopped and stared at me for a moment. I have always wondered what he was thinking.”

  “I’ll bet he was thinking that he should kill you before you told anyone what he had done,” Tom offered.

  “Perhaps.” Adis slowly nodded his head. “I never saw Constantin again.” He stopped and turned to me. “At this point in the story things become quite violent and graphic.”

  I looked at Tom and thought that he had had enough. With the mention of graphic violence he had retreated ever so subtly. “I think the sanitized version would be better, besides it is getting late.”

  Tom offered some resistance, but his heart really wasn’t in it.

  “A couple of hours later our friend attacked the local priest, who stumbled out into the mid-morning sun, bleeding. He fell across me, and as the villagers were attending to the old man the church began to burn. Within minutes, most of the town was aflame as the fire followed a line of pitch from building to building. The fire moved much too fast for any caught inside to survive. I worked my way loose and did what I could, which wasn’t much. In the end not only did I fail to stop Constantin, but by trying to reveal his true identity I forced his hand. My actions were directly responsible for scores of deaths.” Adis finished, and I was surprised that I couldn’t detect even a shred of remorse.

  Tom had crossed his arms and was staring at some crawling insect in the gutter. “Well, that sucked,” he said, and I didn’t know if he was referring to the story itself or how it ended. If history was any indicator, Tom would mull Adis story over for a couple days and then come to me with questions. “You should have just killed him,” he said softly as he stood. The bus was cresting the hill.

  “Maybe,” Adis said, and then he turned to me. “Don’t look now, but there are a pair of photographers in the woods across the street.” Of course I immediately looked to the woods. “They are harmless, but I do expect that Eris, or perhaps Sida himself, will direct them your way while they prepare for what comes next.”

  “I don’t suppose you know what that is?” I asked with no hope.

  The bus arrived in a cloud of dust and squealing brakes. The door opened with a loud hiss and I could hear the passengers exclaim when they saw the famous Adis. “Not yet, but I’m fairly sure that we won’t have to wait long. I am also fairly sure it will be dramatic.” He stood and stared into my eyes. Maybe in that moment he was trying to see what lay behind my façade, but I doubt it. He put his hand on my shoulder. It was an odd gesture, and again I braced myself for a hug. His expression was serious, and I wondered if he was trying to communicate to me psychically.

  “What?” I finally asked him.

  “Just be careful,” he said seriously. He looked down at Tom, patted his back, and then turned to the steps of the bus. In the blink of an eye, Adis the Grandfather reappeared. He accepted the helping hand of the bus driver and waved to the half dozen riders. “Hello, my friends.” The doors closed and the bus was away in a soft whoosh.

  Chapter Sixteen