Seasons of Heaven

by Nico Augusto

  When he at last was in reach of the long, gnarled roots of the trees that grew down into the water from the river bank, he reached out and grabbed hold of one and pulled himself up the slippery slope. Once he was out of the water, he collapsed down along the bank and sucked in the mud and muck, still trying to fill his lungs with air. His head was so heavy that holding it up was a chore in itself and it was several long minutes before he had the energy to at last use his arms and push himself up to a sitting position. He slowly took off his shirt. The muscles in his arms neck and back were burning. When he had it off he hung it on a bush along with his shoulder bag and liana to dry them.

  “Doctor! Doctor! You have to escape, hide yourself…” It was the voice again.

  “Who are you?! Show your face! Why should I hide?” James looked around and seeing no one he sighed heavily in frustration.

  He sat down in a comfortable spot alongside the lake. He had to rest. He let his mind relax for a couple of hours and then tried to reassess the situation…

  “I woke up here with Sarah three days ago...It seemed like an island at first…But something is wrong here!”

  James thought back further and the memories began to rush in… “I was on a plane. We crashed. Where are the others? Why I am alone? And what was Sarah doing here? I don’t understand!”

  James was used to asking questions and getting the answers. He was a science man after all… But here in this place, his beliefs were fading away one after another. He no longer knew what was real and what wasn’t.

  He could feel panic seeping in and knew that he couldn’t allow it to take over. Instead, he got up and continued along his path. After he’d gone a short way, right in front of him a strange object appeared. It was like a tomb, with a white stone covering the entrance.

  The atmosphere suddenly became as cold as ice. James found a tree branch, used his shirt to wrap it with a piece of cloth and soaked it in sap. He entered the place and inside there was already a lighted torch. James used it to light his own.

  “This fucking torch … I am stumbling…”

  After he’d gone a few feet deeper into the darkness, the ground gave way under his feet and he began to slide downward very quickly. He was still holding the torch, fearing the intense darkness. His back was hitting the rocks, his body becoming bruised and bloody along the way. After about seventy feet, he finally stopped with a jolt on the muddy ground. It looked like a place that recently held water…but now there was only mud. James stood up; he was sore and once again becoming disheartened.

  He moved forward once more and came upon a strange, empty room. It was all white and the light was so bright and intense that he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He had to open and shut them and when he opened them he could see that his bag was damaged from the fall and the light of the torch extinguished.

  Lost and confused, James went closer to the center of the room. There was a cord hanging from the ceiling. It looked like a power switch used on lamps back in the 1960’s. James hesitated briefly and then he pulled on the cord. The light went off again and the ground gave way underneath his feet.

  This time, the ground was very smooth, like a toboggan. He slid down at a great speed, feeling like every second he was barely escaping death. His limbs felt like they were on fire and they were moving along on their own. His brain was disconnected from everything other than the sound of his hammering heart and the swish-swish of blood in his ears. Adrenaline raged in his blood stream and his stomach lurched but since he hadn’t eaten for so long, there was nothing there to purge.

  The slide stopped as he was thrust into a deep pit of swirling, cold water. His muscles clenched tight against the cold water as it began to penetrate his skin and chill his blood. It felt like frost was sinking into the marrow of his bones like wet concrete and he knew that he had to get out quickly or he would drown. The thing he was in was like a giant siphon and the sides were smooth with nothing to grab onto. His already exhausted body was begging him to just give in and go under but what was left of his survival instinct, urged him to go on. He had to push against the sides with the soles of his battered feet and it took multiple attempts for him to get in a position where he could reach the top and pull himself to safety.

  While his muscles were still shaking, trying to work some heat back through his body he saw three things approaching him. They were a mass of tangled limbs that projected darkness and evil. They began running towards him and he tried to duck and avoid them. They were too quick, and one entity struck out and with one touch it paralyzed him. The torch he was still holding in his hand fell down and the sparks cascaded across the grass in front of him. The entities stood back, not yet ready to flee, but watching to see what would happen. The grass began to smolder and then the flames began to lick up into tall, glowing embers. Within minutes there was a fiery dance going on around him and the things that were chasing him had begun to flee.

  He tried to duck and avoid them, but they were too quick, and one entity paralyzed him. Once the fire was established, the entities vanished, leaving horrible screams suspended in the air.

  “What the hell?” James was trying to put out the fire. While he was stomping and slapping at the flames he wondered what had frightened away the entities. Was it the fire itself, or the sage that it had been burning? James didn’t have the time or the energy left to ponder it at the moment. He would use both if the things came at him again. He still had his lighter and he bent down and grasped as many blades of the plant as he could hold. He tucked it into his bag so that he had it with him next time…just in case.

  James went outside, thinking that this strange place could possibly serve as a shelter. He was walking again, hoping finding somebody.

  “James, reactivate them! We are here for you…” It was the female voice again.

  “But who the hell are you? Show yourself! I am not afraid of you!”

  James’s body was wrecked. He collapsed…everything was wrong. His strength was diminishing…He hadn’t eaten, he was dehydrated and he was hallucinating. This place was eating him alive. He was a physician and he knew what a critical situation he was in. The water he’d been drinking did not even cool him.

  He had a sudden, eerie thought…Am I already dead? That would at least make the events since the plane crash make some kind of sense. If that was the case however, what was he supposed to do in this place?

  He got up and pushed on, continuing to wander through the dense forest, He kept wandering listening to the voices telling him to recover two stones, one in a cave, the other one in an old village.

  James followed the suggestions for the next hour and ended up coming to the front of an entrance to a cave. He took one of the two torches placed on both sides of the entrance and lit it up using the sap he carried with him.

  He entered the cave and suddenly he was not alone anymore. Numerous smoky shadows are following him again and once again, he began to panic.

  “Go away…”

  “Come, come, and do not fight. It is useless, James…” the Banished one’s chirped at him.

  He ran and tried to hide, but there was nothing he could do to escape them. He had the impression that these hideously evil things were eating him slowly from the inside out. He slowed down, and began hallucinating again. The walls were pushing him from all sides and then they would go away. He tried to protect himself by burning the sage.

  The plant worked, chasing the shadows away. James caught his breath and once he was calmed down, he began again looking for the stone. As he moved forward, he tripped over a piece of armor lying on the ground. It was red and black…it looked like the kind that might belong to a samurai. Lying next to it James saw a naginata and a broken sword. This sword was different than any James had ever seen. It was curved at the point where it had broken. The blade was two-handed and it had a single edge. The cross-sectional area of it was round, unlike the swords James had seen in museums that had once been used by European medieval knights.


  He picked them all up and took them with him, thinking that they might come in handy. He had an idea and stopped to rub the blades with the sage. He hoped that perhaps it might help him to repel or even kill the evil, dark creatures. It was a slim hope, but at least it was something. James made his way along carefully, the light of his torch lighting up only a short way in front of him. It was like walking blindly and not knowing what you would step on or into. He reached out and touched the walls as he walked. In some places they were smooth from the constant drip of water running across them and wearing them down, and in other places the water had worn jagged paths. It was cold and dank and the only sound besides James’s breathing was the sound of the endlessly dripping water. His sore and tired feet slipped in places and several times he almost fell before at last stumbling into a clump of stalactites and stalagmites that hung from a low point in the ceiling. He was thrust backwards and unable to stop his fall. He struck his back and shoulders on the unforgiving rocky floor. Thank goodness he was able to spare his head the blow.

  He pulled himself back upright and the only thing that propelled him forward into the unknown void was the hopes of at last finding his salvation.

  He finally arrived at the end of the cave. On his left side he could see another watercourse. In front of him, inside the wall something shone out. It looked like a big screw. Curious, he used his broken sabre like a chisel and a flat rock for a wedge; he used his own weight to cleave it from the rock. He was panting and sweating by the time he finally managed to get it loose, the cave wall seemed almost reluctant to let it go. Once he had it all the way out he could see that it was a stone and it was about a foot long.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “JAMES”

  James put the stone in his bag. It fits easily inside. He noticed there was some kind of metal in the wall where the stone had been fixed. James wondered if it was a magnet and the stone had been fixed against it.

  Just as he began moving again, a deafening noise roared throughout the cave. James continued his path towards the exit, walking along some sort of ridge line. Below him he could see numerous rocks immersed halfway in murky, dark water. One slip and fall would very likely lead to his death.

  As he walked along cautiously he was pelted with pieces of rocks as they fell off the walls. Everything was vibrating and it was sheer luck that he wasn’t struck down by one of the larger boulders that had been shaken loose. James looked around in a fearful state of awe as he watched things crumble. Stalactites were even coming loose and crashing down violently into the water. Something powerful had been activated.

  The voices were right. The stone he just took had an effect on the surroundings and James was about to see what kind of effect.

  His cautious progress finally led him outside. Once he was there in the midst of the gorgeous landscape he saw what had caused the severe vibrations. In the center of the picturesque landscape now sat at huge tower that hadn’t been there when he’d entered the cave. It was surreal and James’s brain wasn’t sure how to process it. As he stood there looking at it a woman’s voice floated on the air, reaching his ears and warning him,

  “The passage is about to open, James. There is one left, one more left …”

  “I know … I think I understand!” he said.

  He followed a path to a set of ancient stairs that lead downward. As he descended them he saw damaged walls, covered with stems of ivy that had grown so long they were heavy like tree trunks and its tendrils cascaded out in every direction and covered everything in its path. There were weeds that grew haphazardly between the cracks in the stairs and near the bottom were clusters of defiant daffodils that chose to rear their golden heads amidst the gloom. He stepped gently, using caution because some of the stairs were damaged from weather and age. As he got closer to the bottom, the air got colder and his surroundings got darker. He lit up the torch to cut the darkness and once it was lit he could make out some writings and some signs. He continued to advance slowly as the draughts made the torch move in all directions. The wind seemed to be turning around.

  James was so cold he was shaking. He felt like time was as frozen as he and the cave around him were. He entered a space that was filled with columns. Some of them looked brand new and some of them were gravely damaged and trees had grown through the middle of them.

  James was trying to keep warm by closing his arms on himself; he barely managed to hold onto his torch as he did. Just as he wasn’t sure he could take the cold much longer the atmosphere changed once again. He could hear a continuous breath that at first he’d thought was his own. When he stood still and listened though it was like the breathing was all around him, and in the distance he could hear a disturbing moan that to a physician’s ears sounded like a death rattle.

  James looked to his right and then his left, terrified of what it might be. He didn’t want to advance any further. He decided that he would turn around and go back.

  “James…” It was Sarah’s voice, calling out to him. It gave him a sense of comfort to know that he wasn’t alone. He could suddenly see a new light in front of him and suddenly the cold temperature isn’t bothering him any longer. There was a young boy in front of him all of a sudden. He realized with a sense of amazement that he was standing face to face with Thomas, his lost son.

  “Daddy, daddy, come, follow me, we are hundreds,” Thomas told him in a hoarse voice.

  James suddenly felt as if his lungs were empty…devoid of all air. They burnt as he tried to suck in a ragged breath. Was this really Thomas? Had he finally found his son? His heart jumped so hard against his chest he thought sure it was about to break his ribs and rip his skin apart. His mind was reeling with so many questions, but he didn’t want to go there…if he went there he would have to face the void…the emptiness that was left in his soul when Thomas was ripped away from him. If he allowed himself to believe that this was in fact his son, he at least had hope. That was more than he’d had in a very long time. He realized he’d been standing frozen to his spot. Making a decision at last he began running in the direction of his son. Every four steps he jumped, dazzled by the light in his eyes. He was no longer in the city but things had once again changed. He felt exhausted and his beard had grown down almost to his chest. His shirt was torn open and his hair was dirty…this place was sucking the life from him.

  He suddenly heard a metallic sound and turning abruptly, he saw a man holding Thomas’ hand. The strange man was frightening, black and gloomy. He was wearing dark pants and a black hoodie. Thomas looked terrified and James felt as if he was paralyzed, unable to react…Then suddenly the strange man began to scream. The white of his teeth cut a sharp contrast to the darkness of his face as he did. After the scream he opened his mouth again, slowly and said,

  “He belongs to us! Cry abomination!”

  Without any thought other than for his son, James jumped on him, hitting him with his broken sabre. The stroke was violent, but nothing happened. James continued to strike and beat at it with everything he had inside of him. Even after the thing had vanished while James had been looking it straight in the eyes, he continued to shout and scream and swipe at the air with the sword and his fists until finally overcome with exhaustion he sank defeated to the floor. On his knees the tears came and he was consumed by them. He turned his face up towards the burning sun and screamed again. He thought he had his son back. How cruel was a fate that would allow him a glimpse yet once again snatch him away. James covered his face with his hands and sobbed, great hiccupping sobs until his body no longer had the moisture to form tears and his throat was sandpaper raw.

  Suddenly, the light was extinguished and he felt a soft hand on his shoulder.

  “Find the other stone …” the woman’s voice told him.

  “But how? Where is this village that the voices spoke about?

  He found himself once again in the city. His surroundings looked again like a big, cold, dark room. He stood up and ran his hands through his hair and a
cross his face. Looking down, he saw the still burning torch lying on the ground so he picked it up and took it with him.

  He walked over to a big wooden door and pushed on it. It opened on a large chamber with a labyrinth in the center of it. The chamber itself had stone walls with giant old columns that probably once stood regally but were now cracked and withered from age. Dust from the stone they’d been carved out of lay at the foot of each along with chunks of stone that had rotted off and smashed to the floor, scattering in every direction. The labyrinth sat on a stone platform in the center of the room and going closer he could see that it was actually a mockup of the city he was in right now. The labyrinth is old and damaged but he could still distinguish two big towers at each end of it. Small colored pins with tiny numbers were pressed all over it.

  In the center of it was a main building and a small rectangular piece of glass, like a mirror. There was a note next to it, written on paper that was yellowed and withered from age or exposure. James had to lean in close to read it. Squinting he could at last make out the words, “Through the hole.” James studied the rest of the labyrinth wondering what the words meant…what it all meant. At last, knowing he needed to push on, he left the labyrinth and continued on his way, searching for an exit. He saw a small door on his left. As he slowly opened it he could see the condensation vapors coming from his mouth. The air was frigid and the humidity suggested to him that a watercourse was not far away.