Assassins of History- Transference

by Vernon Dutton

  This night I traveled the familiar Smoketown Road with my headlights on, but, as I approached the actual boundary of the Park, I switched them off and parked my car at the bottom of a hill just east of the junction of the Smoketown Road and a paved road that turns to the right and skirts the eastern side of the East Woods. This park road continues north to the North Woods. There is a private residence to the west of this aforementioned junction and I didn’t want anyone seeing a reflection of my car headlights and get park security involved.

  I got out of the car and locked it. Then, I walked up the hill and turned right on the paved park road that goes to the North Woods.

  

  The Dark Mage’s Log: ‘Earth 9’ Date: 20120910

  Jarbree observed the slayer’s car approach and park near the departure point. The hooded Watcher continued to watch from the depths of the woods as the slayer walked forward. He observed him approach and skirt the east side and then the north side of the woods. “He is moving stealthily,” thought Jarbree. “That is good.”

  Finally, the slayer headed into the woods from the west as he had been told to do.

  

  There is a portion of the East Woods that has been replanted, but the new growth doesn’t encompass the complete area that the East Woods originally covered. I walked down the park road to where a remnant of the woods has flourished.

  There is a five-foot high, post and rail fence on the side of the road that acts as a barrier between the road traffic and the eastern face of the woods.

  Walking further down the road to where the East Woods ends, I hopped the park fence and began marching along the western face of the East Woods. I wanted to enter the woods from the west, which was the way the various Confederate regiments did during the battle.

  As I walked south along the western edge of the woods, I thought about the affinity I had for the East Woods. I had been drawn to this place more than any other portion of the battlefield. On one of my previous visits, I had closed my eyes and walked along a park road that is now in the middle of the original East Woods trying to envision in my mind’s eye what it must have looked like back in 1862. It didn’t really work, but I did scare up a mother bird that must have thought I was going to raid her nest because she practiced strafing runs on my head until I left the area.

  Anyway, I finally reached the spot that I thought would be the best place to enter the East Woods. I stood there for a moment and thought of the fighting that had taken place under these trees, of the artillery shells that burst in the tree tops raining down deadly branches and metal shards on the soldiers and the numerous dead and wounded that lay in the woods after the battle.

  I took a deep breath and penetrated the gloomy copse of trees. It was really hard to see in the darkness. I had already deemed it unwise to carry a flashlight because the beam would be seen and probably reported to the park security.

  I picked my way from tree to tree. I stumbled and almost went down once, but I was able to keep from falling by catching the trunk of a small sapling. My plan was to traverse the woods from west to east, jump the fence, walk to my car and go back to my motel for a good night’s sleep, having paid homage to my heroes. In the interim, if I were to encounter a spirit of a Civil War Soldier, so much the better.

  As I arrived at the center of the woods, something seemed amiss.

  The air had a special tingle to it. I would say it was electrified. It was like standing in meditation and feeling the energy flow between the palms of your hands. But, in this case it felt as if the air was energized and a current flowed through everything in the woods.

  I looked around but saw nothing. I knew the park service wouldn’t allow an electric fence to be put on the property due to a possible injury to a visitor. So, the source of the energy couldn’t be explained.

  I continued moving forward and then it happened.

  In so many science fiction movies, a machine creates a wormhole with a blinding flash of light or the power from an electrical storm is harnessed or a near death experience is utilized to transport the time traveler. Plus, in these movies the transferee wants to take this fateful trip. All I can say is that their imaginary voyages are just great on the movie screen, when the participants know it is going to happen and welcome the journey, but it isn’t fun when you get shanghaied and sent on a trip through time and space against your will.

  There was no lightning storm. There was no near death experience. However, there was a chilling, alien phantasm that without warning flashed into existence ten feet in front of me. I could feel in every molecule of my body that this specter had been producing the energy surge I had been feeling.

  It was a glowing perfect circle of light with a diameter of about seven feet and it was floating about a foot off the floor of the woods. Silently it drifted toward me.

  I was scared out of my wits. My heart was suddenly in my throat. All I could think about was ‘alien abduction’. I turned to run and tripped over something, probably a tree root, and fell to the ground with a thud. Twelve years of Aikido training and learning how to fall without hurting myself went out the window. I fell on my face, but I was lucky. I had landed on soft dirt and not a rock or a root.

  I staggered to my feet and turned toward the circle. In one of those moments when you are terrified, but perceive weird little things, I noticed the circle’s glow didn’t light up the whole woods. It was as if the light from the circle was self-contained. The light didn’t project outward. It was drawn back into the circle.

  The shock of seeing the apparition and hitting the ground like a ton of bricks had robbed me of my breath. I was bent over with my hands on my knees looking at the incomprehensible ball of light.

  I finally gasped in a full breath of oxygen, exhaled it and straightened to face the circle. I know that the hairs on the nape of my neck were standing straight up. I let out an audible whine and raised my hands as if I could ward it off. But it advanced quickly and was abruptly right in front of me.

  I know that my eyes were as wide as saucers, no pun intended. I was like a deer frozen in the middle of the road caught in the headlights of an onrushing car. But the circle just paused there in front of me. I was trembling and yet fascinated.

  As I focused on the specter, I realized the circle wasn’t really a circle at all. It was an orb or a sphere. And the sphere had a metal ring about ten inches wide attached at the top and bottom that rotated around the sphere. It was like one of those old globes of the earth on a stand with a ring around the globe that allowed you to spin the globe while the ring was stationary, except in this case the sphere was stationary and the ring rotated.

  The sphere just stood there waiting. I let out a breath that I didn’t know I had been holding and looked closer. The right side of the sphere, when the rotating ring reached a point where it was at the 90-degree/270-degree position, showed an opening. The ring’s movement was about one full rotation every five seconds.

  As the ring’s rotation began to reach the above-mentioned position, the sphere moved toward me. I backed up, but the sphere pulled me in through the opening with a sort of sucking sound like a vacuum cleaner.

  As I entered the sphere, I saw movement to my left. My eyes focused on a figure. I perceived it to be a human and I yelled, “WHO ARE YOU?” The individual was dressed in a long black coat, black trousers, white shirt and a black wide-brimmed hat. I immediately thought, “Amish male.” He looked at me and grinned. He had a three-inch scar on his left check from his check-bone to the edge of his mouth. And even though I was already terrified, the malevolence produced by his leer sent chills up my spine. I could sense this person was the epitome of evil. I didn’t have time for more contemplation because the foul creature was suddenly whisked away on the left side of the sphere in the opposite direction and I was gently pushed through the right side of the sphere through an opening.

  

  The Dark Mage’s Log: ‘Earth 9’ Date: 20120910

  Suddenly the Orb appear
ed, exactly on time, but its illumination revealed a different individual than the designated person for the transcendence. Jarbree cursed and moved toward the Orb, but the transfer occurred as quickly as programmed.

  Jarbree thought, “I should contact Lord Dendaras immediately. But, hopefully, Jarreal will see the human is the wrong individual and kill him. That is what I will do. I will contact Jarreal to kill the transferee.”

  

  I landed roughly on the ground and glanced around. It seemed I had been cast into a gloomy environment because it was cold and dark. The sphere had inexplicably disappeared. I just lay there for a long moment and realized that whatever was supposed to have happened had apparently occurred because I was alone. There was no more inexplicable sphere and no more Amish male. As my breath went from a ragged wheeze to a normal intake of oxygen, I sat up and focused on my surroundings. It was hard to perceive anything. I felt like Alice lost in the rabbit hole without one foot-candle of power.

  Unfortunately, I was starting to feel my body again and there were aches and pains in my right leg and right shoulder from the falls I had taken. My night vision finally began to kick in and I began to make out tall shapes around me. I was in a stand of timber just like I had been in when the sphere had appeared, but there were differences.

  These woods didn’t have any underbrush at all and the woods seemed to have more depth. Whereas before there had been about fifty yards from one side of the woods to the other, now I couldn’t see where the woods began and ended. However, just as my eyes were becoming accustomed to the murkiness of the woods, the moon came out from behind a cloud and I could see a fence in the distance. Next to me on the ground, I saw a broken limb about four feet long so I procured it to use as a walking stick. Suddenly the moon was hidden again by a cloud and my night vision went kaput. I felt like one of the blind mice of fable.

  Afraid of stumbling and experiencing another fall, I cautiously let my night vision accumulate again until I could make out the trees around me. Since I was facing the ethereal fence line, I got to my feet utilizing the stick as a support to begin a trek forward. However, my head began to spin and I had to kneel down on one knee and close my eyes. Abruptly, I noticed another difference. The air was cooler and I was chilled being clothed in only jeans, a thin T-shirt and running shoes.

  I waited a few hours, make that a few minutes, for my head to clear and gingerly stood up again. I felt wobbly but was able to keep my balance with the help of the thick branch. Putting one hand in front of me, I staggered forward using the limb for support and groping at trees to keep from falling. I made it to the edge of the woods and saw the fence line ahead. Again, there was a difference. Even in the gloom this fence was taller than the fence I had vaulted previously and I detected another difference.

  Squinting profusely, I could make out that the fence was constructed of very roughhewn wood and not the smooth rails of which the battlefield’s fences were fabricated. My mouth went dry when I looked beyond the fence. There was no paved road, only a small wagon trail about ten feet wide. And across the trail there were more woods. This was totally different from the Antietam National Battlefield landscape.

  Suddenly a dark figure stepped out from behind one of the last trees in front of the fence and faced me. “Hope you had an entertaining trip,” he said. I screamed in fear and instinctively swung the thick limb I had been using as a crutch. It caught the figure on the left side of his head and he went down like a ton of bricks and didn’t move.

  Chapter 2

  The Dark Mage’s Log: ‘Earth 9’ Date: 20120910

  When Jarreal wouldn’t answer his summons, Jarbree thought, “Surely Jarreal has run his diagnostic check and killed the imposter by now. I will call him later. I must attend to this newly arrived Slayer, who is my responsibility.”

  

  I know I was in shock and disoriented from the ordeal with the sphere, seeing the leering man, finding myself in unfamiliar terrain and then this confrontation with a specter out of the dark. These eerie circumstances brought on a moment of sheer panic.

  I said, “What have I done?”

  I dropped the tree limb and bent down to look at the figure. He was clothed in a hooded robe. I pushed the hood back to look at him, but couldn’t see anything clearly in the darkness. I put my hand on his head and I felt something sticky. I brought my hand to my nose and took a whiff. It had a metallic and salty smell. It had to be blood.

  As I broke out in a cold sweat, bile rose in the back of my throat, which further heightened my dismay. I just wanted to get out of here. If I left quickly, no one would know I had been here and I wouldn’t be prosecuted for hurting this guy. I stumbled to the fence and clumsily climbed over it. Then turning to my right, I began to stagger south toward the Smoketown Road. I progressed about thirty yards, thankfully without falling, and came to where the trail dead-ended into a dirt road. I stopped. Looking to the left, I could barely see where the road went over a little hill. Looking to the right, I could see that the road continued further into the woods, which were so dark that it was impossible to see further than ten yards.

  I turned left on the dirt road with the hope of finding my car at the bottom of the hill. I was panting with shock and fear as I tripped and fell to my knees due to two five-inch deep ruts in the road spaced about six feet apart. I staggered to my feet, and lurching between the ruts to the top of the small hill, looked down into the gloom for my car. However, it was so dark that I couldn’t see a thing, but I reasoned that my car was down there and I needed to find it and get out of here.

  I cautiously shuffled down the hill into the enveloping gloom. Once I felt that I had reached the bottom due to sensing the flatness of the terrain, I hesitantly hobbled to the right side of the road moving my hands out in front of me like a blind man feeling for obstacles. Continuing forward every few feet, I would stop and frantically swing my arms back and forth trying to touch my car, but it wasn’t there!

  I stopped moving, dropped my arms and bowed my head. I prayed, “Please God. What is going on? I don’t understand. What is happening?”

  My heart was beating like a rabbit caught in a trap. It brought up burning acid in my throat. I coughed it back down, hugged myself again and muttered out loud, “Where’s my car? I wanna get out of here.”

  I put my hands out in front of me again and wobbled further off the right side of the road until I touched a big tree. I was abruptly fatigued. The adrenalin had worn off. I turned and put my back against the tree, hugged myself and slid down into a sitting position. I asked out loud, “Why isn’t my car here? Has it been stolen or was is discovered by park security and been impounded?”

  I was so tired and distraught that I went into a daze. I huddled down putting my arms between my legs, my head on my knees and just shook for about five minutes.

  As my body came back to some semblance of normalcy, I was able to get a little warmer. I was still somewhat chilled, but I was no longer shaking.

  I knew I had to get out of here and fast. I hoped that guy I hit was okay, but I wasn’t about to go back and see.

  As rational thought seeped into my brain, I came to the conclusion that I had to find out where my car was. But I wondered why some of the landmarks around here had changed. However, that was the least of my worries.

  I had to get out of here. I took stock of my options.

  One, I could continue following this road, which was the Smoketown Road, to the northeast where it would dead-end into the Keedysville Road. Then I could walk to Keedysville and get a ride to my motel, but that is too long a walk. So that possibility is out.

  Two, I could trudge back up the hill I just came down to where the farm trail dead-ends into this road. If I turn right and head north on the farm trail, I would go past the Joseph Poffenberger farm and end up on the Hagerstown Pike. Then I could walk to Sharpsburg and get a ride to my motel. But again, I would be taking the long way home. Scratch that choice.

  Okay. Last but not leas
t, I could go back over the hill I had just came down and follow the road into the gloomy woods and continue on, what I hope is the Smoketown Road, to where it dead-ends into the Hagerstown Pike in front of the Dunker church. Then I could turn south, go to Sharpsburg, Maryland and get a ride to my motel. This sounded like the better idea.

  So, I picked Curtain Number Three. I figured the mileage to cover was less. Therefore, it would take less time to get to a recognizable city plus I would be less likely to be attacked by dogs, which usually inhabit these rural farms.

  Then I got one of those insane thoughts that you don’t want to consider, but makes it past all the mind-blocking mechanisms you install in your brain. “What if I am where I started out when the Sphere abducted me, but I am in a different time?” In my mind I responded, “Shut up. You don’t know what you are talking about.” So, I put that insidious thought in the trash bin of my mind and took action.

  I gathered my strength and abruptly stood up, which apparently wasn’t the right thing to do. I felt light-headed and had to put my hand against my sheltering tree to keep my balance. My vision was blurred which produced nausea. I had to swallow a number of times to keep from being sick. I stood in this awkward position for several minutes until my equilibrium reached some semblance of normalcy and the nausea abated. Telling myself to take it easy, I hobbled back the way I had come.

  I made it to the top of the hill without stumbling over the ruts in the road and saw the farm trail off to my right from which I had emerged a few moments ago. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath from climbing the hill. The moon suddenly came out again and I could see a little more of the road leading off into the ominous woods. I took a deep breath and trudged forward on the Smoketown Road.