By Opposing, End Them

Chapter V

     The two of us walked through the woods in silence for a while. The forest was still damp from the downpour that brought me here. Soon I noticed that I was stepping on metal shrapnel. I looked through the trees and saw the ruins of my jet, still moldering there. We walked up to it and stopped. She let me go and looked at the wreck more closely.

     "So you're the big fugitive, huh?" she asked in a cool voice.

     It took me a while to respond. "I suppose I am."

     She smirked. "That was quite the getaway you had there, taking the commissioner's personal jet."

     "Was that his?" I asked. "I'm surprised he didn't have more security on it."

     "He was surrounded by police jets. What more security could he possibly need?"

     "The man was smart enough to have a first-aid kit on hand, but not enough to install a simple passkey?"

     "Well, this is the first of any jet that has been stolen since anyone can remember. You've made a big to-do over in Batista."

     "Batista? Is that where I came from?" I asked.

     She nodded. "You've been all over the news. We picked you up on the radio. You're Jack Flint, right?"

     I was a little surprised. "Yes. But what's your name?"

     She shrugged. "Aurelia."

     "Just Aurelia?"

     "Yes, just Aurelia." I let it go at that.

     "So where am I now?"

     She spread her arms wide. "The wilderness."

    "But- but... that place... how did you find me there?" I asked, gesturing behind me.

     She nodded grimly. "I was out hunting when I found the wreck. I saw the trail that you had left and tracked you into Harlan Camp."

     "So it is an... extermination camp?" I asked weakly.

     "Yes."

     "But... who would do this? And why?"

     She looked at me strangely. "You really are clueless, aren't you?"

     "I've got the strangest feeling that I've missed out on a rather significant chunk of human history."

     She raised her eyebrows. "What?"

     "Well, yesterday I was sitting in a bar, minding my own business in the Year of Our Lord 2011, and the next thing I know I'm lying on the ground a few miles outside of- what was it?- Levine National Auditorium."

     She snorted. "Impossible!"

     "Really?" I asked. "Here, have a look a this." I tossed her my wallet. She caught it and opened it curiously. She took out a few dollar bills and gasped in shock.

     "How... how did you get these?"

     I shrugged. "Spare change."

     "But there are only three in existence! And what's this...?" She took out another bill, a twenty-dollar note. She looked ready to faint.

     "It can't be... there was nothing higher than a ten...!" she gasped.

     "Keep looking. There might be a hundred in there," I said sardonically. She gingerly replaced the bills and handed my wallet to me. I shoved it back into my pocket.

     "Who are you, Jack Flint?"

     "I honestly haven't the slightest idea."

     "You'd better come with me," she said. She grasped my hand and started to run, dragging me along with her. We ran through the woods, crashing through branches and brambles. I had no idea where we were going until, quite suddenly, we were there. We were standing on the edge of a steep hill, where the forest ended abruptly. At the bottom of the hill, in the middle of a large clearing, was a small village. It consisted merely of a few houses huddled closely together, as if they were fending off bitter cold. Aurelia gestured towards the village. "New Harlan," she said. We ran down the hill to the village.

     We stopped in front of one of the houses, a dilapidated gray bungalow. I heard the whirr of power tools coming from inside. Aurelia walked up to the front door and opened it, motioning for me to follow. I entered the house.

     I looked around and saw that the inside was just as run-down as the outside was. The living room was a mess, and the kitchen was a disaster area. The noise of power tools was deafening. At a table sat a hulking, broad-shouldered man, huddling over a mug of something hot. Aurelia walked up to the man and whispered something into his ear. He got up and went into the back of the house. The noise of power tools stopped, replaced by arguing. The big man came back. He wore a sagging, dull red robe over pinstripe pajamas. He sported a long, unkempt beard that matched his dark, unruly hair. His face was crisscrossed with scars, and his huge, hairy feet were bare.

     "Sorry about that," he said in a low, gruff voice. "My name's Demetrius, but you can call me Papa D." He extended a ham-sized hand to me. I nervously took it and shook his hand.

     "My name's Flint," I said meekly. "Jack Flint." Demetrius nodded. A small, wiry man came from the back of the house. He ran a grimy hand through his shock of red hair and looked at me through smudged work goggles. He brushed off his hands on an equally grimy apron and extended one to me.

     "Andronicus," he said. I shook his hand and introduced myself.

     "We've heard a lot about you, Jack," said Demetrius. "Quite the scofflaw now, aren't we?"

     "I suppose so, yes."

     Demetrius grunted. "I also heard them say that one of your distinguishing features was that you have thirty-two teeth. Is that so?"

     "Yes," I said. "I never had to have my wisdom teeth removed." Demetrius laughed.

     "What's that bandage on your head for?" he asked.

     I touched the gauze. "I cut my head open during the crash landing."

     Demetrius got up and searched through some of the many jars that littered the kitchen. He found one and threw it to me. I caught it and opened it. A sickly sweet smell emanated from the paste inside. "Spread it on your wound," he said. "It'll clear it right up." I took off the gauze and spread the paste on my forehead. It stung like the dickens, but I could tell it was healing me. I replaced the gauze and sat down on a threadbare couch, placing my fedora next to me.

     "Papa D, Jack says he comes from the past," Aurelia chimed.

     Demetrius looked at me. "Now that's a bold claim to be making, Jack," he told me. "Where's your proof?"

     "Show him, Jack," Aurelia said. I gave Demetrius my wallet. He opened it and looked at the money inside as Aurelia had done. He sat down on his chair, clearly as astonished as Aurelia had been.

     "Ancient American money," he muttered. "Flawless condition...." He looked at me suddenly. "Maybe there is something to your boast."

     Andronicus stepped closer to me. "What's the last year you remember?" he asked.

     "Two thousand eleven. A.D.," I responded. Demetrius roared with laughter.

     "Two thousand eleven!" he roared. "Ha! That's half of human history you're missing there!"

     "Yeah, I noticed that," I said as he calmed himself. "Could you maybe, you know, fill me in a little?"

     Demetrius was suddenly serious. "Do you really want to know, Jack?" he asked softly.

     "Yes."

     Demetrius leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and began to speak.