by Lyle, Travis
Glancing in the direction of the temple, nothing can be seen. Walking back to the wigwam screams from our tribe echoes. Our war horns sound through the blizzard, sending the signal to the Aztecs. I watch as those who look like me and dress like me grabs a bow, arrows, and spears. The woman that lay beside me runs out of the hut dressed for this blizzard. She speaks to me in a panic,
“You know I have to run to save our blood. If our child dies then our nation dies.”
This is all she said as I watch her disappear in the distance leaving through a secret hole in the wall. I follow the rest of what I feel are my brothers to the top of the fort walls. We stood proudly with our bows and arrows ready to defend the City of Sunlight. Not defend for the Aztecs, but for our own people. Peering over the top edge, thousands of red crosses march towards us. Animals pull large weapons our direction.
Bells, horns, drums and screams now fill the air. The Aztecs at the temple and surrounding gold homes flee through underground tunnels carrying only what they can. They leave the rest to fight and save the city or die trying. Before they leave they curse the land, they curse the city of gold, and they curse the families of the remaining people to die on this ground.
Many abandoned Aztecs join us on the southern walls ready to paint the sky with our arrows. Trees can be heard crashing to the ground around us. A whistling sound pierces through the snow.
“Boom,”
The right side of the wall tumbles to the ground. The boulder continues to crash up hill taking out many homes and people. Deep growls and screams flow from hundreds of silver metal people running towards us. Shooting as many arrows as I can, I follow some of my brothers off of the fort wall to the ground to fight.
Two of my brothers are killed as soon as they touch the ground. I take the knife from my right side and throw it through a hole on the silver head of the thing coming at me. It tumbles to the ground and the silver weapon now lies in front of me. Quickly picking it up, I use it like a spear and stab it through two silver plates on the second thing running at me. Like the first, it falls to the ground. I scream out to my remaining brothers,
“They’re just men. Get behind their protection to kill them.”
It’s too late for that. Those who understood our language here are now dead. Many Aztecs flee to the tunnels, only to turn around a face certain death. The tunnels to escape the city are collapsing. Knowing the strength of this new army, I escape through the secret path, carrying one of their weapons, looking for my woman and child. I can hear silent screams and whimpers coming from her.
Getting close enough, I can hear her screaming.
“No! No! No! No!”
I see three of these men raping her. One of the three has a knife swinging down on my child. With all my might I throw the weapon at the back of that man. My child falls out of his arms, unharmed, and rolls into the snow to the left of the man I just killed. The two others quickly notice my presence. One of them takes their sword, looks me in the eye, smiles, laughs, and chops off the head to my woman. A feeling of rage shutters inside.
Sprinting at the near armorless white savages, they run at me with their weapons in hand. Rolling to the ground behind them, I take the weapon from the one I just killed. Swinging back, I slice the stomach open of the one first to run back at me. His warm blood exposes the dirt underneath the snow. Grabbing footing in his blood, I dive behind the other man running for me. Swinging the weapon, the man’s knees hit the ground. His head rolls off of his shoulder and stops just before touching my child. Without hesitation, I pick my child up and quickly run north to warn my brothers.
My reality snaps. It’s no longer winter. Snow no longer covers the ground and now I’m still me, but without my child. I’m with ten thousand of my brothers from the north. We’re lying in the forest watching the silver men finish tearing apart our homes. I go through and tell the many leaders that we must wait for sun to fall before we attack. Sneaking through the still secret passage through the fort wall after they slept, we move from home to home rapidly killing everyone. With our skin painted black, it’s difficult for anyone to see us.
A guard near the sunlight homes notices our shadowy presence. His alarm alerted the remaining eight hundred knights. With the first of my brothers to die here tonight, a white light begins to glow through the night. This light emanates from the top of the temple. Even though we fought with their weapons, we didn’t wear their armor. Many of us quickly die, but we refuse to quit. We use our quickness to evade behind them for the kill. By the morning light, all knights lay dead with only a couple thousand of us left alive.
Looking up towards the temple, the morning light beams glow from it producing a form of energy. The light glowing from the top of the temple is different from the sun, this light is blinding white, and it looks to be contained within a box. Rumbling and shaking disturbs the ground we stand on. My remaining brothers quickly flee from the city walls. We watch from outside as our entire city crumbles to the ground then falls through a cavern sinkhole. The only thing that remains visible is the glowing box. Rocks and dirt continue to tumble and cover our dead brothers. We bury the rest that hadn’t been covered by the collapsing temple.
The living leaders gather the rest of us together.
“We must leave, our city is lost. If we don’t leave now, more will be here to fight us. We need to let all elders know of our victory and loss.”
Something drives me to speak argumentatively towards the Chief.
“What about the white light? If they find it, the city will be theirs.”
My brothers look at me like I caught an illness. The Chief replies in confusion,
“What white light Sleeping Star?”
I walk close and show them, but none see what I see. Instead they shun me and make me stay. The Chief says,
“We know your brother was the first to die. We know what he has done for us, but we can’t have you with us any longer, your mind is cursed. You’ll now have to be the keeper to the city of death.”
They leave me to die. I continue to wake up in another ancestor’s life and live each death they lived. I’ve been beaten to death as a slave, suffered through scalping after scalping from white settlers cashing in on bounties, and seen death on a trail with many of my kind whose tears brought a sad name that lasts for generations. I’ve watched as family after family is raped, shot to death, and even left hung by the neck in trees as a warning to my kind. Being chased from the land we own, killed in wars, burned to death in trees and on crosses, I continue to see, hear, and feel the pain my blood suffers. Each time I die, anger fuels the fire that’s becoming my soul.
Chapter Ten
With Hollister reliving the deaths of his ancestor’s, the killers attempt to bring Hollister back to life. Hollister was the only one alive who could see the location of “El Dorado” because of an ancient curse. Hollister’s blood comes from the lonely child which escaped that day during the siege, by the templar’s, on the City of Gold.
Amanda yells in rage,
“Why didn’t you stop him Jack? He was the only person alive who could see the light. You’re a worthless father. No wander mom kicked you out for Jim.”
Anger rages through Jack’s voice.
“If that’s how you feel, you can go sleep with Rosco. How would you like that? If I was you, I’d shut my mouth up.”
Amanda stomps herself upstairs to a bedroom she took over, but she doesn’t go in. Junior, Rosco’s brother, brings a large medical box to Jack. Jack quickly shoves a needle of adrenaline into my chest. He then pulls out a defibrillator and repetitively shocks me. Junior pumps air in and out of my lungs, after attaching a wire to my finger. The wire sends a signal to a small machine when a pulse beats. Junior’s voice speaks in fear,
“Jack it still says zero.”
Jack angrily replies,
“I swear if he dies, I’ll kill you too Junior. You better start praying for him to live.”
Junior stops pumping the air knowing
I’m not going to come back to life. He throws everything down running for the door.
Amanda yells,
“Junior!”
The clicking of a pistol trigger quickly follows,
“Boom”
Junior falls hard to the floor.
Jack shot Junior in the back just before he reaches the door. In this moment a pulse rate registers on the machine, and begins to rise. Hollister’s eyes open, but he doesn’t speak. Jack and Amanda put Hollister in the back of a truck. They drive down the many trails leading to the tree tower. By the time the tower is reached, night has fallen.
Jack speaks in frustration.
“Now boy, you show us where the light is or you’ll die.”
Amanda cynically speaks after Jack.
“Just show us Hollister. We want to put all that history in museums for the world to see. If you help us, we’ll help you.”
I don’t speak. I just point in the direction of the light.
Jack arrogantly speaks.
“What’s the matter boy? Cat got your tongue.”
A smile stretches across my face. The only sound uttered from my breath is,
“Hmm…”
Frustrated, Jack says,
“Fine Hollister, I don’t care if you talk or not. Just point us in the right direction. If you lie, you’ll die.”
Taking them deep in the woods, I show them the tree that has grown around the box. A twelve foot electric fence with razor wire guards the tree. Amanda quickly disables the electric current protecting the fence from being cut open. Jack grabs a pair of bolt cutters, and proceeds to cut a panel open. Forcing me into the hole, he ferociously says,
“Get the box and bring it here boy.”
The closer I walk to the box, the brighter it becomes for me. I turn to face Amanda and Jack. A nefarious tone echoes through me in multiple voices as I say,
“I’m not Hollister Wolf. I am Sleeping Star. It’s time for my brothers and sisters to rise for revenge. THIS IS OUR LAND!”
The earth beneath them rumbles like a Californian earthquake. Jack and Amanda can now see the light emanating from the box. The light begins to flow out of it in a magnificent fashion. It resembles white glowing hairs that smoothly flow in the breeze. Creaking and cackling sounds out from all around them. Amanda races down a trail that leads to Highway twenty. Jack stands frozen, being held firmly to the ground.
Jack watches a white glowing strand suck itself inside of a tree. Watching the tree, Jack can see the light glowing through the bark. Trees all around Jack appear to have spirits standing inside the core no matter the size of the tree. Hollister’s body floats high in the air. Jack witnesses the eyes of Hollister glowing through the night sky. The nefarious tone echoes through Hollister’s body once more.
“It’s time to clean this land from all invaders. Grow your roots, extend your vines, and infect the forests with your light of life. Let your bark bathe in the blood of our oppressors.”
Rumbling sounds through the air as the ground fiercely vibrates. Hollister’s body floats down from the air laying flat on the ground. The spirits of Hollister and Sleeping Star exchange. Hollister is now alive and breathing, though he doesn’t possess a conscious state of mind at this moment. Sleeping Star floats into the largest tree in these woods. All around Hollister and Jack, trees now walk. Trees have real life, which is much different than their previous near stasis vegetative life. Jack looks up at the tree that houses Sleeping Star.
Voices flow from the tree, voices Jack can understand. Moving limbs and sounds that come from each movement drown the voices to below a whisper. Echoing through the air consecutively sounding like many massive explosions,
“Boom…boom…boom…boom…”
Police sirens are loudly sounding in the distance. An ear-piercing whistle screams through the air like thunder. Sleeping Star falls on top of Jack, stabbing limbs through Jacks body and smashing him near flat. The impact instantly turns his insides to mushy putty. The tree limbs, roots, and vines move around like arms pressing Sleeping Star off the ground to stand once more. Jacks body remains impaled, slowly pouring blood along the tree bark.
I regain my full state of consciousness. Opening my eyes, trees walk over the top of me, yet I remain unharmed. Through the thundering quakes the trees make as they walk, I hear police come this way. Looking around me, a once flourishing forest is now bare. Many holes with only brush and grass are all that’s left of the foliage, leaving Eucha Lake desolate and exposed. Ringing loudly in the air followed by a whistling sound,
“Crash, crunch, smash,”
A squad car flies above my head and collides into the ground behind me, tumbling in a hole. I see the moving barrier of trees a great distance ahead of me. As they walk, other trees come to life and join the march towards town. Shocked and stunned, I don’t know what to do. I say to myself over and over again,
“This shit isn’t real. It’s just a nightmare. WAKE UP!”
The most shocking factor I find is that I am awake. This is real and I’m alive. Both my arms raise high in the air, resembling giving praise. An energetic tone strikes my voice,
“I’M ALIVE!”
This scream echoes for a great distance across the near barren land, much like yelling in an empty auditorium. The sound of trees crashing quickly interrupts my moment of glee and brings me back to reality. The only things I can think of doing are run to my grandfather’s house and get a four-wheeler. Even though I still feel this entire anger dwelling from what has been done to my ancestors, something inside tells me I’m the only person alive to stop these kindred spirits. I’m not so sure I really want to do that from what Sleeping Star has shown me. I feel they deserve it, but I remain conflicted. The people today had nothing to do with these horrible massacres, just their ancestors.
Would you stand for unknown invaders to walk up in your house, take it over, rape and kill your family, and do nothing to stop it? Would you expect justice or enact revenge? This is the behavior that the early settlers in North America shown my ancestors who owned this land. The defamation of my people is even taught in schools. They don’t teach you about what really happened to us, but only what they want you to believe. In this thought I find myself asking how many people truly deserve to live here.
Topping the hill, I see trees have taken out everything I have left. My home lay crumbled to the ground. Both quads are destroyed, and no other vehicles remain on the property. Looking around the rubble I find a mirror. I don’t look good at all. The right side of my face is swollen more than the left, but I don’t feel the pain. I’m not blinded by the swelling around my eyes, and I don’t even taste the blood that has painted my teeth. I’m not sure what Sleeping Star has done to me, but it feels like I’m nearly invincible.
A rock lying underneath a board grasps my attention through the mirror. I notice it because it’s the ceremonial stone axe which I thought was left back in Mississippi. I don’t know why, but I feel the need to take it with me. Not sure if it’s special, to me it’s just a really old stupid rock covered in blood and attached to a stick. Finding a few clothes scattered underneath the rubble, I put everything in a bag and walk down the treeless driveway to Highway twenty. It’s not like it’s a long walk. Only four miles separate my driveway to the edge of town, but its twelve miles of steep hills and rough terrain to the end of my driveway.
Walking down the long pot-holed dirt road that’s my driveway, the land is empty. Both sides of the road were once impenetrable to even walk through due to the overgrowth of trees. If it wasn’t for all of these hills, I’d be able to see the City of Jay from here. Near the end of my driveway is when the ground turns flat and prairie like. Three hours quickly pass me by. Looking on the highway, no cars travel, in fact I don’t hear much noise at all. Houses that are on the opposite side of the road to my driveway are destroyed. The Highway’s demolished with holes and chunks of rubble everywhere. Again, no trees can be seen anywhere no matter the size. I begin to feel th
e deaths of many innocent men, women, and children burn deep in my soul. They scream out to me in my mind.
“Why us, what did we do to you?”
I can not answer them back, and there’s no one near me. There’s only one thing I can do, that’s to think to the thoughts.
“I don’t know who you are, but if you see and feel what I felt you should understand your crimes.”
The voices reply back in an impudent way,
“We don’t care what happened to your entire race. Look what you’ve done to us now.”
I reply to my thoughts in the same impudent manner,
“If you fail to care about us, why should we care and spare you? Your whole lives are built on greed and you take what you want regardless of who you’ve hurt. Prove me wrong if you want this to stop.”
The voices end. Silence begins to comfort my mind. Walking over the last hill before the long straightway to the city, as far as I can see everything is destroyed. There looks to be a person still alive, so I begin running to catch up to them. I only have about three miles left to go which took me twenty minutes to complete. The person I see is a woman sitting outside of the gas station on the corner. As I approach her, I notice tears flowing down her face. Her hands are shaking with a cigarette lit and pressed tightly between her fingers. Her voice quivers as she speaks jubilantly to me.
“Oh my God, I thought I was the only one left alive.”
Her voice turns to weeps as she cries,
“Everyone’s gone. They’re all dead and I watched them hang in trees. The trees…”
If the trees didn’t kill her then she should be here. I reply with care to this woman.
“It’s okay, you’re alive. I know the trees are alive and this is no dream. My ancestors are giving us this land back.”