Chapter 2 - 1
I knew I was dreaming, fully aware yet unable to stop the process. It was a frequent occurrence; I could not open my eyes to see clearly in this dream.
A voice would cry out, as if from a resounding chamber, far off. The inexplicable challenge of trying to see what was happening, the wearisome and exasperating attempts of my mind's understanding of what the crystalline shouting meant, the diabolical red, red as the blood I'd become so used to spilling, it signalled the end of my nightmare.
The morning had finally come to carry me from my lurid sub-consciousness; the truck hit a pot hole, throwing me airborne for a second before crashing me down to being conscious.
"Nice sleep, comrade?"
The voice startled me.
"You look like you had a bad dream, you sounded like it to." Laughed the voice, almost mocking me
"Yeah, something like that." I nodded, my morning voice croaked
I reached to my leg, scratched the apparent itch, and dragged myself up against the truck's barrier, sitting up straight, stretching my legs.
The talkative Slavic lay lazily against the far end of the truck's load space, whose eyes shot sporadically around his head, supervising my every move with a child's curiosity.
"Are you alright?" I questioned, taking note of his apparent nerve spasm
"Comrade!" Shouted the man, "I'm fine like the sun!"
His retort made me wonder why I was as safe as I was sleeping in the same space as him. With caution and a slow pace, I reached for my rifle, situated close to my chest, wrapped around my shoulder in a worn leather strap.
"The party's not started yet, comrade, why do you ready yourself?"
The husky monotonous drivel of this man's shrouded face, broken only by the sight of his bone piercing eyes, sent a click of caution throughout my mind.
"I'm just adjusting, 'Comrade'," I explained, diverting the obvious attention to my actions "Sleeping for a while with a metal rod stuck to your chest causes discomfort."
"Ja, ja," He agreed "Do you know where you are, comrade Alex Bortusha?"
It was a startling fact; I didn't know where I was.
Then it snapped, I didn't know where I was, but he knew my name. He said my name.
"I do not know, Mr?" I admitted, questioning him about his own name
"I prefer Comrade, comrade, Comrade Sla'." Shouted Sla' cheerfully announcing his title
"Very well met, Comrade Sla'"
"Very well met, to you too, Mr Bortusha!"
My eyes lingered into his for a moment, before my stare broke. The truck itself held a dingy atmosphere, laden with small wrappers of miscellaneous edible, yet eaten, items. A few empty bottles of vodka, partially smashed, lay in a heap, at the far end of the truck. Occasionally, when the truck would climb at a height, the loose bottles would roll, back and forth, until they hit a small wooden crate, about the height of a small animal, perhaps a doe, or a newborn cow's calf. The stench of alcohol played an apparent absence in the musky air, stifling as it was, it had no scent. The floor panels were thick and black, like railway sleepers, laden with grime from years of industrial transportation. A large blanket of heavy hard leather covered the back of the truck, and the only light was the scarcity that seeped in through the gap at the entrance located at the far back of the truck.
"I see you're admiring the vehicle's wagon," Sla's voice boomed, breaking the silence "I've been using her for over a few centuries now."
The truck hit another pot hole, sending me flying up, then straight back down with a painful thump. However, my eyes were fixated on Sla', he did not move.
"A few centuries?" I inquired
"No no, I said a few weeks." Repeated Sla'
"You said a few-"
"No no, do not provoke me Mr Bortusha."
"How do you know my name?" I instantly replied
"I know your name from your dog tags, around your neck." Sla' coolly explained, exchanging his seemingly normal shouting cheery voice for something much more soothing and charismatic
"Did you search through my shit?" I asked, not being too carful
"Please, Mr Bortusha," Sla's voice had totally changed now, it was more of a Brit's accent "You first accuse me of searching, snooping even, perhaps implying I've stolen something from you, and now you use aggressive vulgar language in my company."
The truck increased its pace sending a huge gust throughout the trucks interior via the crevice of the doorway. A low murmuring noise, unalike the vehicle's engine, more like an electrical generator kicking in, broke out into my ears. A spark from the middle part of the truck's ceiling rang out, allowing the room to flood with light.
A combination of wind, pushing Sla's hood back off of his head, and the temporary flash of light revealed something that shocked my bones and sent my nervous system haywire.
Sure, I've killed many people, past, present, and perhaps future. I've shown no fear, no fear whatsoever.
I was afraid.
The thing's face, amplified by the bright white flash of light, almost screamed through the adaptation of colour, it was a brilliant white, with stretch marks leading from the forehead to the cheek bones. The cheek bones themselves were ornately carved, almost handsome in comparison to the other bone fragments compiling Sla's face. The jaw, protruding, overhangs the rest of the lower body, jutting out further than its chest line. The nose, broken and misshapen, almost as if it had been repeatedly tapped with a sledgehammer, veered drastically to the left of the creature's eyes.
The creature's eyes, told a different story. If silver was the world's most valuable material, this thing would possibly be the richest non-human entity to walk this earth. Desolate in detail, all that existed in the sockets were two identically silver balls.
The truck stopped, a bang on from the cabin, signalling my stop, woke me out of my temporary astonishment and bewilderment.
"Come on, get out!" Shouted the driver
"Your stop is waiting." Whispered Sla'
"Yeah, I'd better get off." I nodded
I grabbed my rifle, frisked myself quickly, checking for any loss of equipment, I then turned around to bid the creature my goodbyes.
He was gone.
"Hello?" I quizzed, curious as to where he went
I jumped off the back of the truck, becoming enshrouded in the cloud of dust it had spurred on as it pulled off.
"Freaky shit." I sighed
I checked my ammunition and supplies, then proceeded to travel north, heading for Southern Starcia.
