by Mark Tufo
Yeah, this was stupid of me; they all said as much. But I went to bat for this traitor. Hindsight is one of those wonderful little Jiminy Crickets of humanity I could do without. Do you think a bear regrets eating an old discarded pic-a-nic basket with spoiled tuna? Nope, not at all. He enjoys it for that moment, he suffers through the torment of a disgruntled belly, and you know what he thinks will make him feel better? A discarded can of tuna. Now I’m just assuming here; I don’t know if there was ever a study done, but the bear, in between heaves, doesn’t rue his decision to have eaten that food. He does his due diligence and moves on not giving his past actions, a second thought.
Me, though? I had all sorts of regrets and one, well, one of them was not burying my axe into Tomas’ head when I had the chance. He was right there, helpless, couldn’t do much more than snarl at me. I have to go with the thought that Bill wouldn’t have allowed it, that he would have moved to intercept with the same speed he had to thwart Tommy. And that in itself would have sucked, being stuck mere inches away from one I had trusted implicitly, who ultimately didn’t give two shits about my welfare or the others that cared for him. I think it was the pain of that realization that made me turn and leave. I was in shock. It’s the ones closest to you that can inflict the deepest wounds. Sometimes the cuts they make are through ignorance, or misunderstanding; everybody fucks up at some point. Hell, I know how often I’d hurt my friends by choosing to go forward when I knew we would be at risk. Not so the case with Tomas. He sold me for something he wanted, it was premeditated and intentional and he was going to shove that poisoned blade straight through.
I didn’t know how long Bill would hold Tomas; part of me hoped that he would just make the kid “food” and we’d be done with it. But there was another part that still held out hope that maybe I had read the entire thing wrong. Whenever I felt like that, though, I just pulled up my personal video screen inside my mind and paused it a moment to gaze on Tomas’s face as he yanked fruitlessly against Bill’s clutches. Would be extremely hard to think he wanted to do anything less than major bodily harm with those gritted teeth, furrowed eyebrows, pulled back lips, and the snarl-ridges in his nose. I’d seen Lycan with less hatred. I turned and ran away from them; I couldn’t stand to see that face any longer.
“Food,” is all I heard behind me.
“We still need to get through that gate, Tallboat,” Linnick said after I finally stopped running.
“We can’t,” I told her. I couldn’t bring myself to explain just how easily Ganlin had defeated me and made me his prisoner. There was no way I was going to detail how he had inflicted all manner of torturous behavior on me; the trauma of it was not overly visible upon my body, but it was seared deeply into my mind. “We won’t be able to get past the wizard, he’s too strong.”
Maybe Linnick heard the obviously pained truth in my words or could feel the slamming of my heart as I thought of the man, but she did not question my decision again. Without consciously thinking about it, I found myself heading back the same way we’d come. I didn’t know enough about this realm to go blazing new trails. It might have been a full day, I was getting fuzzy on the particulars, but we were once again close to the nightmarish orgy. Whatever power Tommy had to see the borders, I did not possess. I stood on a small rise and looked out over the vast carnal expanse, wondering how I was going to walk the minefield without a map and not cause explosive results, definitely not looking to make a pun; sometimes it just happens.
“How bad is this Green Man fellow?” Linnick asked, worried about the same thing I was.
“Worse than getting your legs pulled off and whipped with them for all eternity,” I told her.
“That sounds pretty bad,” she answered.
“Yeah, sorry. I don’t know why that was the first thing out of my mouth. Linnick, I stand no chance against Ganlin, even with your cleverness and Bill’s…obvious strengths. The power he wields dwarfs anything I can manage; and it’s not all physical. It would be near to me fighting you.”
“And yet I have hurt you,” she said, clicking her claws.
“That you have.” I smiled, seemed like the first one in a good long while. “Then the battle I would have with him would be worse, a stinging pinch might be the only strike I get in.”
“Then?” she asked.
“Back.”
“There is no ‘back’ for me. My only chance lies forward. Even if we could somehow get through the guardians, I do not have a body waiting for me back on my world.”
This would have been a perfect opportunity for me to ask what would change going forward. I did not think to do so; damned useless, hindsight. I was wrapped up in my own sour thoughts. This was not how I was expecting the day to go. I had gone from being in a merry band of travelers taking on the entire underworld to being a lonely traveler, scared and lost in uncharted territory.
“I don’t know what to do, Linnick.”
“I am not asking you, nor do I expect you to accompany me, Tallboat. When we were traveling in the same direction, escaping the same predicament, we were of mutual benefit to each other. Now we must go our separate ways for our ends lie in different places.”
“How will you make it?” I looked down at her; she was so damn small.
“I was doing fine before I met you! I will do fine after.”
I didn’t mention that when I’d come across her she had not been doing too particularly well. We hadn’t even parted yet and the regret was overwhelming.
I took a chance. “Azile might be able to do something for you if you come with me.”
“Your words have a tremor and your mind is clouded with doubt. You do not know this for sure.”
“I can’t imagine your kind can stay married for too long with all that honesty flying around continually. Got to imagine the words, ‘Do I look fat in this?’ ends most relationships.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m nervous, Linnick. I’m scared of what could happen to me and to you, mostly to me if you leave. I’m miserable. One of my closest friends tried to sell me to the devil. I feel guilt for not helping you to find your way out and I feel painful remorse for ever leaving my family for what was an elaborate trap all along. The fact they all mentioned that and I fought against them makes it worse.”
“Have no guilt or fear for me, Tallboat. I will find my way out or I will not. That I am here, I realize, is of my own doing. I would feel irreparably horrible if something were to happen to you for my sake. As for Tomas, you could not know he would be disloyal to you. He used a familial relationship against you. There is a reason he finds himself here as well. You would be best served by getting back to those who truly love you as quickly as possible.”
“You’re a true friend, Linnick, and I will miss your company,” I told her as I set her down on the ground.
“You are a good being, Tallboat, no matter the doubts that you have. Get out of here while you can, keep that goodness intact.”
I wanted to hug her but it didn’t seem practical. I waved to her and watched for a few minutes until she was far enough away she was hardly bigger than a speck of dirt.
“Came here alone, Talbot. I guess that’s the way you’re leaving.” I took a deep breath, preparing to pass by The Neverending Porno Story; it got horrible reviews and no awards at the Assies, that’s their equivalent to the Emmy’s, if you were wondering.
Luckily, Durgan was out of sight; he’d been sucked down into the torrid affair to the point he was out of my range. I was absolutely fine with that. I pulled a Gary–my brother, who fancied himself a rock god–and began singing something that could be traced back to having roots from Bon Jovi. It had the desired effect as it kept the siren song from filling my head and apparently it was bad enough that I was no longer attractive to the vast swinger’s club.
“Good thing I never sang to any of my dates,” I said before moving seamlessly from my half-hummed “Living on a Prayer” lyrics to maybe Triumph or Rush. Thought a
bout Widespread Panic but the temptation to dance would have been too great and this was not the time for a misstep; I was as graceful dancing as I was crooning. So basically, a drunk gorilla in combat boots would look better than me on the dance floor. Of course, I was always allowed plenty of space…but, yeah, there’s a visual I don’t want to dwell on. I’ve had enough of gorillas for even my extended lifetime.
It was the closing verses of REO Speedwagon when I realized I had tiptoed through the path and was out the other side of the clusterfuck. The sigh of relief I took was palpable. On some level, it did seem weird that basically my entire life I was driven for sex and this time I was doing all in my power to avoid it. I said on some level! There were entirely too many atrocities going on inside that pit to be anything resembling enjoyable. With that nightmare behind me, I could begin to focus on the difficulties ahead. I figured for once I might try to wrestle out some sort of plan, typical of hell though, I was not granted the time. The Polion army had advanced pretty far in. I could hear the ringing of metal and the clash of weaponry as the demons must have rallied some sort of defense force and were doing their best to repel the invaders. There were screams and howls as both sides took casualties. In my eyes, this was a win-win.
The best thing that could happen for me was they all killed each other and I could go skipping down Hell’s Avenue swinging my arms gleefully back and forth as I whistled a tune. Maybe not the manliest thing to do, but no one was watching. Who was going to be there to revoke my man-card? Second best-case-scenario would be that they were fighting somewhere else because the battle raged directly across my path. I could not go through it, no way. Something was bound to get at me in that all-encompassing darkness. Going around was my only choice, and not only did that make the journey longer; it also exposed me to new and interesting ways to die.
“Fuck,” was all I managed to say as I cut a line horizontally against the front. At first, I was doing my best to balance caution and stealth with a decent pace. When I realized I was getting outpaced, I just started hauling ass. In this case, I was more afraid of the devil I knew than the one I didn’t. Sure, you’d love to have the ability of foresight, or even a little precognition so you could see what kind of mess you were about to step in. That’s just not the way it works; you have to wait for the damned retrospect.
I could not even fathom how many Polions there were as it seemed no matter how far I ran, I could see no sideline. I had even turned away so that I was now heading farther in than I wanted to. What I had not been ready for was the demon militia or whatever the hell they were–wow that expression has way more impact down here–as they ran into the fray. There were dozens of them, just in my general locale, and there I was running out in the open. If it was me they were looking for I might as well have placed a large red bow upon my head. These grotesqueries seemed disinterested in me for the most part. Oh, I got my share of looks, but these demons were defending the homeland or were maybe just looking to get into a fight. Tough to figure out what spurs something that looks like a lizard mated with a pig and maybe has a cross section of Minotaur genes in there for good measure.
That group had no sooner done a run-by when I saw another, even larger group, coming. I figured this one would pass on by as well, that I was merely a curiosity in a full-scale invasion. Like a goat standing on the third floor of a building sheared in half by a bomb blast. Not something you see every day, but when you’re being ordered to the front lines by a hard-ass sergeant to go and protect the city you grew up in against the advancing Germans, you’re not going to give the goat much notice. Sure, he’ll show up in your nightmares for years to come, sometimes it will be eating your face or shitting out hand-grenades, things like that, but right now, it’s just a goat.
I wanted to be “just a human” for them. If later on down the road I was stabbing them with a pitchfork in their dreams, that was fine with me. One of the demons, just one, was more curious about me than the battle. Well, maybe not merely curious. It seemed I was its mission.
“You should not be free!” it shouted as it advanced. As far as demons go it was on the runtish side, which meant it was still about four hundred pounds. It looked slender compared to his compatriots, but still dwarfed me. It was a deep golden color with cherry red eyes. Muscles rippled along its arms as it deftly wielded a spear that was fifteen feet, maybe longer. It had spikes on its head in an oval pattern; I thought maybe it was some sort of helmet or even a crown. Come to find out it was bone structure.
“I know! I’ve been telling my wife for years I should charge her for the right to be near me.” I turned my back to the advancing battle. I had my axe and little else, by that I meant a chance. I had a slim chance. And then it got worse.
“The Green Man is looking for you.” So, it knew who I was and not just some random human that had possibly, temporarily, loosed his bonds or climbed out of his sink hole, but someone he was actively seeking.
I wanted to have a witty comeback, but just the sound of that name started to close my throat up in a big clotting of fear. He’d bested me without breaking a sweat; I’d been his bitch for weeks as he’d tortured and beat me, without a hint at a bargain. I didn’t have any reason to believe it would be better down here. In fact, pretty sure it would be worse; I’d be paying now for my rude escape.
“You will come with me,” it said as if I would just fall in behind him.
“I’d like to, I really would, but you see, I have this appointment. Massage therapist, actually. Big Swedish dude. And if I show up late, he takes it out with some terribly painful deep-tissue moves using his elbows. And I’ll tell you, it just fucking hurts. I mean, you’re lying there thinking you’re going to get this nice relaxing stress-relieving massage and then all of a sudden, you’re being told to breathe through the pain like you’re giving birth to a child. If you ever get a coupon to visit one of those licensed torturers, my advice is to re-gift. So, you see, it’s very important that I show up on time.” I was backing up slowly.
“He told me you would not agree to come. I did not believe him. Nobody ignores a summons from Apollyon’s creation.”
So Ganlin wasn’t the boss. Made sense, explained some of the crappy attitude. Not sure if that information helped me at all, but I’d store it away for later. The demon had not moved, yet his spear did; not in the traditional “he tossed it” way, but rather like it was Pinocchio’s nose and it had just lied. The shaft was elongating with alarming speed; I watched as the jagged-edged tip came at me like a dart. I ducked and rolled to the side as the blade narrowly missed my shoulder. It retracted enough to be back in front of me as the demon readjusted his aim like one of those lizards with the sticky tongue; they just sit still and fling it out there and grab a moth. I swung my axe out and shattered the shaft. I’d not been expecting it to be that easy. Most likely that’s the reason I ended up with the broken, splintered end getting embedded in my left shoulder.
With some difficulty, I smashed that shaft as well. This time I was smart enough to move before it could thrust into me again. I could only play “dodge the spear” for so long before he got me in a vital spot. Maybe I wouldn’t die but I’d be immobilized while I got carted off to see my old pal. The shaft nicked the edge of my arm, scraped the living shit out of it. I was on the move, this time not away but rather toward the weapon wielder. I’d like to think I saw a brief second of surprise or fear. Didn’t matter, though, he was already reacting and pulling the shaft in by whatever magic or technology it used. It streaked past me, had a brief second as he switched the transmission from reverse to forward and once again tried to make me his own personal olive.
I cried out. He nailed the same spot he’d hit previously with pinpoint accuracy. Pushing the splinters in even further. This time I had the presence of mind to grab the shaft. I’d like to say, “the smarts” but I wouldn’t go that far. At first, he tried to pull it free but I had a tight grip on it and I was rapidly heading back to him like I was the new spearhead. He str
uggled as he wielded my weight around. That he was doing it was a feat all on its own. Wrestling two hundred pounds on a stick nearly fifty feet long is impressive, plus he was winning. Have to take this guy spear fishing sometime. Soon enough though he’d had enough of that. When he realized I wasn’t going to let go he decided to make it go forward. That, I had not been expecting. With all of my weight going forward it was not much of a surprise when we reversed direction that the shaft went right through me.
I could hear tendons and muscles tear as the wood sought an exit, and that was nothing compared to the shattering of my shoulder blade. That was a unique sound followed by an even uniquer pain, and I don’t give a shit that “uniquer" isn’t a word. You weren’t there, it needed a new word to describe it. Still, I held on. If nothing else, I’m stubborn—I mean to a fault. Like, even when I know it’s to my detriment, and I have plenty of folks that will back me up there. The Horney-crown demon seemed to be getting pissed off. It’s nice to know I can bring anger and frustration to others everywhere I go. He started jack hammering that spear, he was sending it back and forth at a porn star fucking pace. Maybe I should have said humping rabbit pace; it sounds less violent and is actually much quicker.
I didn’t know what else to do except hold on. There really weren’t many choices available for me. My vision was blurred as my head snapped back and forth rapidly. All I could tell was that as I was being shaken like a paint can impaled on a mixer, we were getting closer to each other. He was reeling me in like a hooked swordfish, which basically I was. I was in trouble, especially if there were more coming. My left hand, which had been the primary gripper of the wooden pole, was beginning to lose feeling and more importantly, power, as he just tore shit up with that damn stick. I was fearful to grip it completely with my right as I was still holding the axe and I could not afford to drop that.
“Now or never,” I said through teeth that were clenched tightly together. With my flagging left hand and arm strength, I pushed myself off that stupid spear shaft. With a loud, squelching popping sound I found myself dislodged from the pole. I was twenty feet away from Thorn Boy when I got my feet under me, ran for a few steps and leaped. For most of that fraction of a second or two, he had been getting his spear under control and had not realized the threat for what it was. That changed quick enough, he caught me on the side of my arm mid-flight. Bad arm I might add. It was enough to send my trajectory off course but I still got a swipe in.