by Joseph Lallo
They set forth.
The other hunters snapped and paced in circles.
Yes. Now there are two. The old man has returned seeking his escape. We are not to allow either, as He has spoken. Take the elder down first.
The alpha male trotted to the edge of the clearing and looked over his shoulder. The other hunters followed with a burning hunger in their stomachs.
The pack wound through the trees until the forest thinned with the rising elevation. Their sinewy bodies moved through the underbrush in silence, the leaves no longer rustling in the stillness of the air. When the alpha male crested the last rise, he could see the tip of the chimney protruding from the top of the cabin.
They wait for us.
He broke into an even-paced run, with seven hunters in line behind him.
***
“They will always go for the throat,” Major said.
“Are they reflections?” Samuel asked.
“I’m not sure, and I don’t want to find out the hard way. They want you, not me, but they will attack anything that gets in their way. If they are sentient creatures, they no doubt feel the reversion like we do. They’re in self-preservation mode, and that means they will fight to the death.”
Samuel drew a deep breath and nodded. Major shoved his hand underneath his coat and removed another curved blade. He squeezed the blunt edge between his thumb and forefinger and spun the handle toward Samuel in one motion.
“Ever use one of these?” he asked.
“Maybe,” Samuel said. “I can’t quite remember.”
“The early Arabs called it a scimitar.”
“Sounds like you have some history in your background as well,” Samuel said.
Major ignored the comment and continued. “They’re designed to be light and used to slash in a diagonal direction, not a stabbing motion. If you strike across the muzzles of the wolves, you’ll make it impossible for them to clamp their jaws on your throat.”
That visual made Samuel shudder.
“And the blade is extremely sharp. Remember that on your follow through.”
Samuel nodded. “What happened to your shotgun?”
“This,” Major said, holding two empty shell cases in the palm of his hand. “No sporting goods stores around here.”
“What’s our strategy against the pack?” Samuel asked. “What’s the best way to take them out?”
“I have no idea,” Major said. “I’ve never fought a wolf before.”
Before Samuel could respond or find a way to deal with his fear, the alpha male appeared from the edge of the tree line. The creature strutted up the slope with several hunters following him. His feral, yellow eyes never left Samuel. They seemed to float through the thick blanket of perpetual dusk that draped this place.
***
The men stood shoulder to shoulder with their weapons drawn. A bead of sweat rolled down Samuel’s nose and dropped to his upper lip as they watched the wolves trot toward the cabin. The wolves knew their prey would not run or lock themselves in the structure this time.
The young one is mine.
The other hunters whined and gathered to the left of the alpha male. They spread out until they formed an arc that faced the old one, and the alpha male fanned out to the right until his trajectory aligned with the young one. They stopped twenty yards from the cabin. Several of the wolves snarled and began throwing their heads toward the sky. The alpha male felt the hypnotic pull of the moon. He searched the heavens for the celestial body, but could not locate it. Millions of years of evolution, interrupted by the reversion, left him feeling out of sync, distraught. He shook his head and picked up the pace toward his prey.
***
“I’m ready.”
“You’d better be,” Major said. “The alpha male wants you all for himself.”
Before Samuel could say another word, he saw the rest of the pack spring into a run toward Major. Through the corner of his eye, he saw a blaze of fur, teeth and those yellow eyes. Major bent his knees and raised his arms, ready to slash at the first beasts to reach him.
Samuel glanced back and noticed the alpha male closed the gap and was within an arm’s reach of him. He dropped to his knees and raised the scimitar as the alpha male lunged over his head. He felt the movement of air caused by the beast and rolled over. Samuel jumped and spun in the opposite direction as the wolf came back at him. The creature paused and bared its teeth, and Samuel felt a stabbing pain in the middle of his head. Pressing a palm to his forehead, he could feel someone or something else inside, like a cancerous intruder.
I must devour you. I must honor His command or I will die with this world.
Samuel felt the words enter his mind rather than his ears. He blinked and looked at the alpha male.
“Why?” he asked.
You are my reflection.
Samuel shook his head and raised the knife to a defensive position. The alpha male took three long strides forward and stopped. He bared his teeth at Samuel before darting off in the other direction, toward the rest of the pack surrounding Major.
The other hunters pushed Major back against the rear wall of the cabin. He stood with a knife in each hand and a wicked smile on his face. The wolves, ears up, pinned him there until the alpha male came up from behind.
“I’m waiting,” Major said to the wolves.
Take him.
The hunters lunged forward. One locked its jaw around Major’s ankle while another reeled back from the slash that opened its throat. The wolf died before it hit the ground. Another wolf bit into Major’s left arm while two more flanked the alpha male. Major brought the blade in his right hand across his body until it slashed the muzzle of the wolf on his arm. He heard a whine and felt the pressure release on his wrist, followed by the warming pain of torn flesh. He brought the heel of one boot down on the head of the wolf latching to his ankle. The animal let his leg loose and stumbled into the wall of the cabin.
The alpha male howled, and his two sentries ran at Major. One leapt at his throat while the other bit at the injured ankle. Major cried out as the wolf’s teeth snapped at his chin. He turned in toward the cabin wall in a desperate attempt to knock the animals loose. When Major dropped to his knees, the alpha male came forward. He opened his mouth, and his eyes flared yellow in the disappearing light. The wolf reared back on its hind legs, ready to lunge.
Samuel came around the corner as the alpha male leapt at Major. He felt his breath catch as he realized when the wolf finished with Major, he would be next. Major caught the wolf on his chest, the weight of the beast spinning him to one side and knocking him backward over a downed tree limb. The mixture of man and beast rolled to a stop. The alpha male sprang to his feet and, a second later, Samuel landed on him. He had his hands around the wolf’s neck, his fingers gripping fur while the alpha male snapped at his face. With his upper body pointing down the slope, Samuel brought both legs up and in front of the alpha male until the back of his calves rested on the wolf’s head. In one motion, he brought his legs back, heels first, driving the beast to the ground. Samuel heard the yelp and the cracking of bone on the hard earth, and he stood and kicked the alpha male in the ribs. He felt a surge of adrenaline at the beast’s cry and realized there was hope. The wolf jumped up and ran toward the tree line with one rear leg dangling in painful limbo.
As he watched the alpha male run, Samuel began to pursue the beast before he heard another scream from Major. He winced as the white underside of the alpha male’s tail disappeared beyond his sight.
We are not finished.
Samuel felt threatened by the thought, but he had to put it aside for now. He saw two more hunters approaching Major. A knife dropped during the fight rested near one of the steps, and Samuel lunged for it and spun with the sharp edge out, slicing an ear off one of the wolves. The animal cried out and scratched at the stump with one paw. Samuel knelt and sliced horizontally through the air, his blade cutting through th
e mangy fur and major arteries of the wolf’s neck. It flopped to the ground while blood poured from its wounds. By this time, Major maneuvered on top of the last remaining hunter and his knife was raised high, ready for the plunge.
Samuel took a step closer, staring at the carnage left by the battle with the pack. When he bent down to examine the tail of one wolf, another memory filled his head.
“He’s gone now, honey,” came the smooth, reassuring voice of his mother.
“Where?” asked Samuel, a boy of five.
“Up to heaven, with God.”
Samuel squeezed his wolfie doll tight. He inhaled the scent of stuffed animal and the smell of his sheets.
“Maybe Grandpa wants wolfie doll with him.”
Samuel’s mother smiled. She dabbed the corner of each eye with a balled tissue.
“He’d want you to keep wolfie, hon. Grandpa won’t need him in heaven. God will give him everything he needs.”
Samuel nodded. He looked down again at the corpse of his grandfather in the casket. The white satin lining made it appear as though the man was floating within a cloud. Samuel noticed the wedding ring and yellow, tobacco-stained fingertips of the man who had always given him spare nickels from his pockets. Samuel thought about the way the coins felt warm in his palm.
“Will he get his smokes in heaven?” Samuel asked.
“He will,” his mother said.
Several other goliaths towered over Samuel as they approached the casket to pay their final respects. Two men wore dark green uniforms slathered in medals of various sizes and shapes. They left the folded, triangular American flag next to the casket.
“Your gramps fought like hell for his country in World War Two,” one man said. The other simply stood with a face of stone.
Samuel’s mother patted her son on the head and bowed slightly to the uniformed man that spoke.
More adults came forward, each one speaking to Samuel’s mother with words meant for him.
That little boy closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Major sat on the ground, wrapping his wounds and staring at the tree line where the alpha male disappeared.
***
“Are you hurt?” Samuel asked.
Major shrugged. “They bit me.”
“I hurt the alpha male, but he ran away,” Samuel said.
“I know. It’s okay. You and him ain’t done yet. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”
“From who?”
Major just shrugged and continued wrapping a strip of cloth around his left wrist.
“Should we get going and find the others?” Samuel asked.
“I need to rest first. I think we bought ourselves some time.”
“How much time?”
“Enough.”
Samuel nodded as the last of his adrenaline subsided. He felt gnawing aches and pains coming from everywhere. His eyes felt heavy, and his legs became pillars of stone.
“Seems like we both need another night,” Major said.
Samuel walked back into the cabin. He dropped his body to the bunk and fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter 7
Samuel was awakened by his own snores, the sound pulling him from an undisturbed rest, and he blinked and stretched his arms. Dull pains came to life as a reminder of the combat with the alpha male and his pack. He looked around the room. The chair sat empty, pushed under the ancient desk, and the few personal items Major left on the floor were no longer there. Samuel stood and eased the door of the cabin open. The trees, the skyline and the forest all sat in perfect silence. Not a single motion caught his attention. Samuel took a deep breath and could not smell the pines. He stood over the corpses of the wolves, inhaled and again smelled nothing.
“Major,” he yelled.
No reply.
He stared in the direction the alpha male left and then opposite, in the direction he assumed they had to travel. Again, not a single thing moved. Samuel tried to remember what Major said about a reverting or a rewinding, but he could not place it. Whatever it was had accelerated, and Samuel wondered how long it would take before everything, including himself, would be forever frozen in the solitary landscape. Before he could ponder that question, an item on the ground near the cabin caught his eye: one that had not been there the night before. He bent down and picked up a piece of paper, weathered and folded in half. Samuel glanced to the horizon and noticed a slight puff of charcoal that faded into deep obsidian. He felt the looming, endless night and shivered.
He unfolded the paper to reveal a strong but flowery handwritten script. He recognized “Major” scribbled at the bottom, and he sat on the step of the cabin to read it aloud.
“Samuel. I am sure you find my appearances and disappearances troubling. I’ll bet you’re confused about this place, this existence. The current reversion is accelerating, much like the others I’ve experienced. I know you’ve felt that. I am probably three to four days from rejoining you at the Barren, the remnants of a village. It could be a collection of reflections. I’m not sure. Whatever it is, structures are there like the cabin. To get to the Barren, you’ll need to follow the path from the cabin to the summit. Looking down into the valley, you’ll see a winding pass that will take you through a wide marsh, eventually ending at the foot of another mountain. You’ll see the peak from the summit of the hill above the cabin. Stay on the path that cuts east around the base and it will take you to the opposite side. The Barren sits on a high plain surrounded by unattended wheat fields. The cabins look like deer nestled in the grass from above. Wait there for me. I’ve left you a scimitar in the desk drawer. If you stay on the path, you won’t need it. Stay on the damn path. Until then, Major.”
Samuel shook his hand and reread the note.
“What about the alpha male?” he asked the dead air.
He stood and went inside the cabin. Samuel reached into the desk and retrieved the scimitar Major left. The blade sparkled as if it had been sharpened, polished and oiled. The leather binding wrapped around the handle and provided a solid grip. Samuel could not remember if he saw Major using this knife in the fight with the wolves. He tied the sheath to his right thigh and the top of it looped through his belt. Samuel tossed his few personal belongings into the rucksack and wished he had a flashlight.
The framed photograph hung on the wall in the same place it had for decades. The undisturbed dust covering it spread out even and smooth. Samuel stepped forward and brushed the dust from the surface as he had the first time he noticed it hanging in the cabin. This time, however, there was no picture underneath the glass, just a black square. Samuel moved closer to the surface of the glass, imagining his hand might push through it and the wall, appearing on the outside of the cabin. Instead, his hand stopped. The picture was gone as Major said it would be.
The reflections aren’t as strong as the original, they don’t last long.
That’s what Samuel remembered. He frowned and stepped back, deciding he did not care much for the reflections. He cared even less for this place.
***
He decided to keep moving. When he looked down from the summit, he could no longer locate the cabin. He struggled to find the path winding through the trees. The horizon melted into the earth. The reversion was physically manifesting before his eyes as a massive hazy cloud rolling across the land like a dark, silent avalanche. It was not moving as fast as a summer thunderstorm, but it was clearly moving from west to east and swallowing everything below. Samuel told himself to visually mark its progress. As long as the reversion did not leap ahead, he could manage to stay ahead of it on the way to the Barren. He laughed and shook his head, wondering if the Barren would provide a safe haven or simply be the final destination to succumb.
Samuel put the summit behind him. He crept down the mountainside, switching back and forth on the path in a steady descent. He lost sight of the horizon and that skewed his sense of direction. Without the horizon or a map, Samuel hoped he could find the
Barren, and Major, and whatever stood beyond that. By the time Samuel reached the valley floor, his muscles ached. He felt the sweat clinging to his clothes and robbing his body of heat as the exertion slowed him down. He tipped his forehead underneath his left arm and sniffed. His nose could not detect the faintest scent.
Samuel walked a few hundred yards on the path stretching into the valley floor when the landscape began to change. As he came down the mountain, the trees reappeared in greater number and proximity. The trail narrowed until it was barely wide enough for him to pass. The massive, deciduous trees gave way to low-hanging weeping willows and their long trails of thin leaves. He identified Spanish moss on the trunks of several, which confirmed he had reached the marsh Major mentioned. Samuel drew a deep breath and caught the slightest hint of brackish water and rotting vegetation. He drew another to confirm it was real.
The reversion must unwind from one direction of this place to the other, he thought as the cloud oozed from the western horizon toward the east, much the way natural weather fronts moved.
With the hope he was outpacing the ominous cloud approaching the summit, Samuel decided to rest. He could no longer regulate day and night. The light source in this world had burnt out like an old incandescent bulb in a lonely room, spilling the last feeble rays into eternal darkness. He laid the rucksack at his feet and looked over a shoulder at a pile of loose branches near a rock. He gathered them up and ran a hand over the surface, detecting a hint of moisture, but not enough to keep it from burning. He was not sure if he was going to need the light or the heat, but creating a fire for his camp felt like the right thing to do. Samuel arranged the twigs in an A-frame design and removed the lighter from his pocket. He bent down low and rocked his thumb back on the flint when a voice broke the heavy silence.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
***
Samuel spun around, expecting to see Major. He saw nothing but the faint outline of the willows standing guard over the marsh. He shook his head and pulled his thumb back again, this time sure he could ignore the phantom voice in his head.