The Rising - Ennead 2

Scene 12.4 - Through the Looking Glass

Trip had said we had to keep on moving. The screams were fewer, but they hadn't stopped. Hero boy was intent on getting back to the rest of the crew.

He pushed some golden pocket watch thing into my hand. As he wrapped the chain around my hand, he spoke to me gently, as if I was broken, which I wasn't... I wasn't!

"Anything comes at you," he instructed, "anything at all. Don't look first, punch! With this fist, hit as hard as you can. Okay?"

I nodded. That didn't seem to hard to do.

"What is going on?" I finally asked, refusing to move as he tried once again to make a call.

He looked confused. So I repeated the question, and he ignored me.

"We have to keep moving. It's dark. Things will be worse now."

He had to be kidding. The inside of my jeans leg was damp, my knees were shaking and I was still replaying my brother's death. The best thing this guy could say was 'Things will be worse'?

Call me an idiot, but I needed a moment to process, and perhaps sort out the stew of emotions that were bubbling inside. I did the first stupid thing that came to mind. I sat down.

I was right in the middle of the single, wide rough road that run through the middle of the village. Did I care? Not at that moment. No one should be able to go through what I did and stay sane.

Trip had no idea how to deal with my sit-down. "Is something wrong. Are your legs okay? We seriously need to keep moving."

I didn't answer. I couldn't. My brother was gone, just like that. If I was dreaming, I would have woken up sobbing, except I wasn't asleep. He really had been torn apart by that thing. I needed time to ugly-cry.

My insides were burning up and folding up on themselves. My heart was a chilly black hole; a horrible weight in the middle of my chest. Nothing had prepared me for that kind of crushing grief. I wasn't crying, the sobs were forcing themselves out, making me shudder as each one erupted.

My center of gravity shifted, shocking me out of mourning. Trip found an easy way to cope with me. He had tucked me under his arm and continued moving, as wary as a hunted antelope.

I'm not heavy. I am used to being carried by everyone who can, but Trip wasn't that sort. I mean, he wasn't a beanpole, but for real, he lifted me too easily.

"Shh!" He warned as I began to struggle (obviously). "We don't want to be heard. I'm sure we should get backup..."

The wind picked up and a shiver ran down my arms. I shut up really quick.

As if the weird breeze wasn't enough, a low rattle sounded. Then a low chuckle, and then another, and then two more rattles.

My head was spinning as Trip picked up his stride. He was stiff, and the tension wasn't a confidence booster. I started to ask another question, but before I could get it out he dropped me and cursed.

"Stay alert Ewuresi." He growled as he crouched and then circled.

I wasn't even mad at being dropped like a sack of potatoes. There was something sinister in the shadows. The creepy sounds started again and then the wind really picked up.

Dust devils blew, every which way, carrying dust and dry leaves. None of them really came close, and I knew if was a good thing that they didn't.

FSSHTT!

The streetlights sputtered. Trip cursed again and raised his fists in that fighter's stance. He looked wary, defensive - towards simple dust devils? Yes.

"Get ready." He murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.

"For what?"

He actually looked excited. That mad gleam returned to eyes as he grinned menacingly, "The fight of your life."

Then he roared.

I know it seems out of place, but that is much as my memory recalls. The guy roared. Not like a lion, okay maybe not a single lion, maybe a whole pride of enraged lions. Muscles and veins stood out on his neck as the sound blasted out around him.

This time I was sure, the air distorted around him. It rippled out in a shockwave. Light bulbs shattered, for real. Dark shapes were thrown out of the dust devils and one hit a mud wall.

That seemed extreme, until all the walls closest to us cracked and then crumbled into bits.

Author's Note

Nothing to say here. Not yet anyway.