Land of Nod, The Artifact

by Gary Hoover

  The mantis seemed to be able to run at roughly the same speed as the humans, and they were able to keep some distance between them.

  Can it fly? Jeff wondered.

  If so, it wasn’t taking advantage of that ability . . . yet.

  The four continued to run. Nahima led, Jeff was right behind her, then Baldwin then Artimus.

  Jeff was acting on pure adrenalin. His legs were moving, but he could hardly feel them. It was as if he is body was floating and moving very fast through the forest.

  Jeff glanced over his shoulder. He could still see the mantis, but they were keeping a good distance.

  Jeff hoped it might decide this meal wasn’t worth the trouble . . . soon.

  The pain in his throat and lungs was beginning to overwhelm the adrenaline and he wasn’t moving nearly as smoothly as he had originally.

  From the rear, Artimus stumbled. He continued, off balance for several steps, but then hit the ground hard.

  Baldwin was the first to notice something wasn’t right. “Dad? . . . Dad!!”.

  Baldwin stopped, hesitated for a moment not quite sure what to do . . . then he headed back for his father.

  Jeff and Nahima had continued for 50 yards before realizing something was wrong. Jeff looked over his shoulder and when he realized Baldwin wasn’t right there, he stopped and shouted to Nahima.

  She turned and the two of them headed back toward Baldwin who was now crouched by Artimus and firing wildly toward the mantis - which seemed to be momentarily mesmerized and had stopped moving.

  Nahima fired a couple shots as she ran, but the long range and the unsteadiness of her running shots sent the energy bolts flying far off-target. “Shoot for the eyes!” Nahima shouted.

  Baldwin shot two rounds toward the mantis’ head, but neither made contact. He paused and tried to relax.

  The Mantis was moving again and was within approximately 20 feet when Baldwin fired again . . .

  . . . And that one connected!

  A direct hit to the creature’s left eye that left a black, smoldering hole.

  The mantis stood for a few moments . . .

  . . . And then fell.

  It hit the ground with a loud, ground-shaking thud. It was deceptively heavy. Its body shape was lean which gave it the visual illusion of being light, but it was large enough to have some serious mass.

  Yes!

  Nahima and Jeff shouted for joy. Baldwin just stared speechless and then turned his attention to Artimus who was moving groggily. “Dad! Dad, are you okay.”

  “I think so,” Artimus said, rubbing his head. “What happened?”

  Baldwin hugged him as he sat up and said: “I got him! I got him!”

  Artimus smiled.

  Jeff had the feeling that the smile was less about the joy of surviving a deadly situation and more about the deeper fulfillment of seeing Baldwin so happy and proud.

  Nahima and Jeff patted Baldwin on the back.

  “That was great! You‘re a hero,” Nahima said as Baldwin positively beamed.

  Chapter 44:

  It had taken quite a while for everyone to regain their breath, but they were soon back on their way.

  As they walked, Artimus assured them that they were nearly there, but Jeff was nervously noting how quickly the sun was approaching the horizon . . . and he also noticed that Artimus had been telling them they were ‘almost there’ for quite some time.

  Jeff also noticed, with some discomfort, that Artimus’ assurances seemed to belie his own uncertainty. Artimus was checking the position of the sun frequently . . . too frequently for it to have moved much from the last check. It had become something of a nervous habit.

  Jeff could see a large, impressive cliff wall rising ahead of them. They reached the edge of the tree-line and saw there was a dry creek bed that ran along the base of the cliff.

  Artimus paused. Looked left then right and seemed to be thinking.

  Jeff was hyper-aware of any uncertainty Artimus seemed to be experiencing and he didn’t like the pause.

  “Good, we’re almost there,” Artimus said cheerily after a nerve-wracking few moments. “About a 10-20 minute walk up this creek-bed, and we should be there.” He pointed to the right.

  The four continued with some renewed energy. Jeff eyed the sun nervously. He wasn’t real thrilled about being in the forest in the day-light . . . the thought of being out there at night . . . I don’t . . . I can’t . . . the stress of the last couple days is just getting to be too much.

  Jeff felt a wave of panic wash over him. His hand squeezed tight around the grip of his gun and he felt the sweat of his palm making the rubbery grip slick.

  Ahead of them, the creek bed took a sharp bend to the left. As they arrived at the bend, the four of them stopped suddenly.

  A huge, black animal rose from behind a large boulder about 50 feet ahead of them. It was 7 or 8 feet tall, broad, heavy and powerfully built.

  Jeff’s first thought was that it was a grizzly, but then he realized that, while its head, body shape, size and fur were all bear-like, it had arms, legs, feet and hands that all seemed more human . . . or at least gorilla.

  “A brune,” Baldwin said.

  The beast growled threateningly and four guns snapped into position.

  Jeff’s could feel his heart pounding, and, while he was trying to keep the beast steadily sighted, he was finding it hard to keep the gun from shaking.

  The brune roared – a much more threatening vocalization than before – and its fur stood up, making it appear even larger than before.

  It was something of a stand-off. None of the humans wanted to shoot an animal just for being there . . . but no one wanted to be dismembered either. While the creature was very bulky, Jeff could see the muscle mass beneath that bulk and suspected it could move very quickly in short bursts.

  It growled again.

  Wait!

  Jeff lowered his gun slowly and studied the face of the brune.

  Artimus saw Jeff lowering his gun and, while he tried to remain focused on the brune, he was distracted by Jeff. “Jeff?”

  The last time the brune had roared, Jeff had heard a very clear voice in his head that said: ‘I’m scared.’

  It was similar to what he heard when the pheerion spoke - a sort of simultaneous translation.

  “Wait!” Jeff said raising a hand and stepping a little ahead of the others. He put his gun in its holster.

  “It’s just scared. I think I may be able to . . . communicate . . . with it.”

  Jeff was nearly as surprised as the others to hear those words come out of his mouth, but he had a strong feeling this was the way to deal with the situation.

  He took a few cautious steps forward and said: “Can you understand me?”

  The brune made a low grumbling noise that Jeff could understand was a puzzled ‘yes’.

  “We don’t want to hurt you. We were just walking through, and we surprised you and you surprised us.”

  The brune growled again, and Jeff understood something like: ‘Not hurt. Scared. Don’t hurt.’

  Jeff was having some trouble understanding. He thought that the reason it was so hard to understand was that the brune, while very intelligent for an animal, probably had a language that was very simple compared to his.

  He wasn’t sure if the brune was saying he wouldn’t hurt them, or that he didn’t want them to hurt him, but either way, it seemed as long as they had some understanding of each other, nobody would get hurt.

  “We just need to get past,” Jeff said. He took some slow, measured steps forward and toward the tree line to show that they would take a wide path and give the brune plenty of room.

  The other three stood where they were, unsure of what, exactly was going on. Jeff wanted to make sure this was going to work before telling them to follow. He was just at the edge of the trees.

  “See, we don’t want to hurt you.”

  He was about to tell the others to walk slowly toward him, but before he h
ad a chance, there was a loud crashing sound behind him.

  Before Jeff had any idea what was happening, he felt searing pain in his stomach and back. His vision went blurry from the pain, and his view of the landscape shifted as his body rose and tilted.

  The mantis was apparently not as dead as they had assumed, and now Jeff was firmly in its grasp. There were spikes on its ‘arms’ that were dug into Jeff’s flesh.

  Jeff felt like he was going to pass out, and he found it hard to concentrate or focus his eyes, and then he saw a large shadow fill his field of view.

  The next thing Jeff knew, he was on the ground and he could see . . . and hear the brune grappling with the mantis.

  The animals clashed with a frightening intensity and the ground shook as the two massive creatures battled with frightening ferocity.

  Jeff interpreted the brune’s roars now as angry . . . VERY angry with a little fear thrown in.

  Angry because the mantis attacked me? Jeff wondered.

  Jeff was regaining his senses. His shirt was stained with blood, and while it still hurt, he felt that he was functional.

  The others were tentatively moving forward - wanting to help Jeff, but absolutely terrified of the battle between the two beasts which was thrashing, LOUD and violent.

  Jeff rose shakily, and, remembering how ineffective guns had been in the past, instead, reached for the baseball bat.

  He took a firm grip on the bat, put it over his right shoulder and CHARGED.

  He swung at the Mantis’ leg and heard and felt a satisfying ‘crack’.

  The mantis faltered, but it had spare legs, and it quickly regained its balance - though the brune was able to take advantage of the momentary distraction and gain a better position.

  Jeff hit it again - this time in the body - and he could tell he was doing some damage. After a few more hits, the mantis seemed dazed, and Jeff worked alongside the brune to get it on the ground where Jeff was able to get an open shot at the head.

  He raised the bat and brought it down as hard as he could.

  The head cracked open and a yellow goo oozed out. The mantis twitched a bit, but there was no question that this time it was absolutely dead.

  The brune sat heavily on the ground, and Jeff rushed to its side. “Are you alright?”

  The animal growled, and Jeff got a jumble of thoughts: Pain, fear, relief, anger . . .

  . . . Affection?

  Jeff had a strong sense that this animal cared about him. That’s why it had risked its own life to save Jeff.

  But the brune had been badly hurt in the battle, and it slumped onto the ground.

  The others rushed over.

  “Are you okay?” Artimus asked nervously, eying the blood on his shirt.

  “I’m not sure.” Jeff felt dazed. The pain was nearly unbearable, and he felt like he was on the verge of blacking out. He could, periodically, see black spots, and he felt nauseous.

  Artimus dug frantically in his bag for a first aid kit.

  “Can you help him?” Jeff nodded toward the brune.

  Artimus glanced over at the brune, but was clearly more concerned with Jeff. “I’m going to inject you with a general painkiller.” He pulled out a small hypodermic and injected it into Jeff’s arm. “You may get drowsy. Don’t fight it. Just relax.”

  He looked into the bag for some other supplies. “I’m going to inject each of the wound areas with a solution that will kill any bacteria and greatly speed healing. After that, I’ll use these adhesive squares,” he said as he held up some 4 inch by 4 inch squares. “To hold the wounds closed. DON’T pull on the adhesive patches. They’ll be bonded very strongly to your skin. After about 4 days, they should loosen and fall off by themselves, but if you get anxious,” he made a point to look Jeff in the eye to make sure he understood. “You’ll tear the skin and re-open the wound. Let me know if you have any problems. I’ll try to check them each day, but remind me in case I forget.”

  Jeff looked at Artimus. He was a little relieved that Artimus seemed to know what he was doing. “What about the brune?”

  Artimus ignored the question and continued working on Jeff. “I’m not a doctor, but I have done this before. The wounds don’t look too deep. I think you’ll be alright. Just try to relax.”

  “What about the brune . . .” Jeff trailed off as he lost consciousness.

  Chapter 45:

  When Jeff woke he was in a dingy . . . shack. He was lying on a worn and stained sofa.

  He scanned the room. It looked like a home, but it was nothing like Artimus’ house. There were pieces of mechanical . . . junk scattered around along with dirty glasses, dishes, and what looked like animal skins.

  Jeff sat up. He rubbed his head. He had the most intense headache, and every muscle in his body ached. The wounds in his stomach and back also hurt, but not as bad as he would have imagined. They felt like bad bruises. He rubbed his hand across his stomach and felt the patches.

  While Jeff didn’t feel like dancing a jig - actually Jeff wasn’t sure if he even knew what a ‘jig’ was – Artimus’ medicines really seemed to dramatically speed healing.

  The door began to creak open and Jeff instinctively tensed. He had been through a lot in the last 24 hours and he found himself fearing what would happen next.

  Artimus entered. “Jeff! You’re up. How are you feeling?”

  “Not bad,” Jeff said and then cringed as a pain shot through his head. “How long was I out?”

  “About an hour . . . I guess that would be over two hours your time. You were . . . relatively . . . fortunate. I don’t think any of the punctures penetrated much beyond the muscle.”

  “What about the Brune?” Jeff asked.

  Artimus smiled. “He’s fine.” It turns out he’s a . . . friend . . . of Dave’s.” Artimus shook his head. “Leave it to Dave ,” He paused and looked at Jeff. “Or you . . . to befriend a brune.” He shook his head. “He’s out in the yard with the others. I’m not real comfortable with it, but everybody else seems okay with him there. . .” He lowered his voice. “Brunes can be SAVAGE beasts. I’ve never heard of a tame one before.

  “Come on outside - if you’re feeling up to it - I’ll introduce you to Dave.”

  Jeff followed Artimus out to a very large porch that looked out onto a spacious, dirt yard that was surrounded by a large, sturdy fence. It was dark.

  Baldwin and Nahima were sitting on the porch as was the brune and a very large, unkempt man. Sitting to the left of the man was a huge . . . dog? Wolf? Wolf-dog?

  Nahima and Baldwin nodded and smiled at Jeff as he passed. Artimus walked him toward the man who was using a large knife to shave pieces off of some sort of meat stick.

  “Dave,” Artimus said.

  The man looked over his shoulder as he flicked a chunk of meat off his knife into his mouth.

  “This is Jeff Browning,” Artimus continued, “Jeff, this is Dave Kimble.”

  Jeff nodded. “Hello, nice to meet you.”

  “Mmmm,” the man responded nodding. He was HUGE. Built like a defensive lineman. He patted a spot, between him and the brune, with his right hand.

  Jeff took that as an invitation - or request - to sit and he complied. The brune reached over and patted Jeff forcefully on his shoulder. Jeff interpreted that as a sign of affection and smiled at him.

  “Big Benji seems to like you,” Dave said.

  Jeff turned to face Dave and involuntarily flinched as his eyes met Dave’s . . . crazy eyes . . . staring back at his.

  “Benji don’t like many people.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Tween you and me, I don’t think he likes Artimus much.” He grinned and popped another chunk of meat into his mouth. Then turned toward Artimus and winked.

  Nahima stood up, stretched and brushed the dirt off the back of her pants.

  “Whoa, Nahima, you’re filling out nice,” Dave said, leering.

  “You like it? Nahima asked. “You couldn’t handle it.” She said and smacked her butt.
>
  Artimus was giving them both a very unpleasant look.

  Dave nudged Jeff. “Look at Arty. Oh, we’re just kidding, Arty. I’d thought you’d have learned to loosen up by now . . . Bishop.”

  He put a sarcastic twang on ‘Bishop’, and Jeff cringed. He was afraid Artimus - who already seemed to be getting a little annoyed - might lash out.

  . . . But Artimus just laughed. “It really is good to see you again. You help me keep things in perspective.”

  Dave pulled his gun out of his holster, aimed at something near the fence and fired. Jeff saw the flash hit a small rodent.

  “Go get it boy,” Dave said and patted the wolf-dog on the shoulders.

  The dog shot across the dirt yard. Jeff expected him to fetch the rodent and bring it back. Instead the dog sniffed at the rodent, circling it a few times . . . and then picked it up in his jaws, flipped his head back and swallowed the rodent down - bones and all - with a couple chomping bites.

  Jeff cringed.

  Dave turned his attention back to Jeff. “Artimus tells me he thinks you’re ‘The Raja’.”

  Jeff flushed. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

  Dave popped another chunk of meat into his mouth. “I don’t believe it.”

  Jeff was prepared to say ‘don’t worry about it’, expecting Dave to offer an apology for not believing it, but then he realized Dave wasn’t offering any apologies.

  “I met the Prophet once,” Dave said matter-of-factly.

  Jeff thought that was an interesting revelation.

  “I thought she was full of plooch.”

  While Jeff still wasn’t sure what to make of all these ‘prophecies’ and other things, he felt that the prophet may have some information that could help him find his father. “Do you think you could introduce me to her . . . after all this war stuff is over?”

  Dave looked at Jeff with an expression Jeff couldn’t read. “She’s sort of hard to find . . . if she’s not dead . . . but sure . . . I got nothing better to do . . . assuming you and I both live through all this . . . ‘war stuff’.”

  He grinned at Jeff . . . a toothy, creepy, leering grin.