The Way

"The Way"

Copyright: Larkin Livesay

They have to be here somewhere. This place is so huge. How can we ever find them? I looked at Dad. He was outwardly calm, but I could tell he was worried. The muscle in his jaw was twitching. He looked at me and smiled, then looked away, eyes searching...searching. The corridor in which we were traveling was very long, more than a kilometer, with many shops and vendors crowded along either side. The air was filled with the sound of vendors hawking their wares, people dickering over prices, children crying and playing. Steam, from the various foods being cooked illegally, condensed on the ceiling of the immense hallway and dripped on our shoulders.

We pushed our way through the crowd, looking for the familiar dark hair of Mother, or the blond hair of Sis. It seemed an impossible task. There were so many people. And this was only one corridor in a building of nearly eighteen cubic kilometers. We had become separated somehow on the level below this one, and had been looking for them for over three hours. No one was willing to help. They somehow knew we were tourists, even though we had taken pains to make sure our clothing was proper for this country. Looking at their gaunt faces, I realized it was because we were obviously healthy. No plague scars on our faces and our clothes fit on our well nourished frames, instead of hanging loose as they did on so many of these men, women and children crowding this city-building.

Dad pulled me aside and checked the palm comp. The icons representing Mom and Sis were idle, something in the building’s construction blocking the satellite feed. Our wristcoms didn’t work either. There was no money for luxuries like com relays in a country recovering from plague and war.

“Look, I’ve been thinking,” Dad said. “I think Mom and Sis are probably outside. Our coms won’t work here, and they probably decided to just wait till we came out, and even though they don’t know where we would come out, at least we could talk to each other. I think we should take a chute to ground level. What do you say?”

“Sure,” I smiled. “I think I saw a chute entrance a few hundred meters back.” He is avoiding the thought on both our minds. They might not have just gotten lost in the crowd. They might have been taken. The tourist agency warned us about the danger. No one really believed it, though. We turned around and started back through the throng. There was a commotion up ahead. The crowd swayed, almost as a living thing, then people began running towards us, pushing against us like a strong current. A riot, a fire, a fight...whatever, the crowd swept us along helplessly. Dad had been holding tight to my hand, so tight it hurt, but his strong grip was no match for the rushing strength of the river of people sweeping us along. I caught a glimpse of his anguished face and then it was all I could do to stay on my feet. Instinctively, I knew to go down was death.

I saw an old man fall, and as I reached for him, someone stepped on his face and kept going, leaving a trail of blood quickly added to as a mass of legs pounded the poor man into a pulp. He never made a sound. In fact, the entire crowd was eerily quiet, the roar of thousands of running feet the loudest sound. The vendors had backed against the wall, hiding in niches and doors to suites, helplessly watching their wares being trampled and swept up with the rushing mass. Spying a break in the crowd, I deftly jumped to the side, scrambling into a narrow alley of sorts, breathing hard as I turned and watched the stampede go by.

It would be madness to go back out there. I would have to find another way out. The hallway in which I found myself was narrow, barely wider than my shoulders. Probably a service corridor or something. It became darker the further I went, the lights along the wall broken or flickering, creating a strobe effect, but that was preferable to the crowd behind me. I made my way to the end, with just enough light to see the door blocking my path. I saw a sensor pad, waved my hand over it, and luckily the door wasn’t locked. With a swish it opened towards me.

I emerged into a dimly lit corridor, a few people walking about, seemingly totally unaware of the bedlam I had left behind. There was a cozy feeling about this hall, and upon further inspection, I realized all the people walking or standing about in doorways were female. Scantily dressed females, at that. This place had the feel of a dorm in a college, or maybe a brothel. I felt like an intruder as I crept along the hallway, looking for an exit. I began to relax, however, as I realized most of the women were paying no attention to me.

I slowed as I passed a young lady in a doorway, leaning against the jam, eyes closed. She was very tall, with long black hair framing a heart shaped face, her lashes long under dark brows. A long shimmery gown clung to her curvy frame, full breasts pushing against the thin fabric. The front of the gown was cut in a deep vee, exposing cleavage. It was over to one side and I could see just a hint of dark pink at the edge of one nipple. I looked at her face and flushed deeply as I saw her eyes were open and watching me closely. There was a hint of amusement in her dark green eyes.

“I...I was...” I stammered.

“Are you lost?” She asked.

“Well, no...I mean, yes...umm, I am looking for a way out,” I replied.

She smiled, eyes sparkling like fine jewels, and took my arm. “Come. I can show you the way.” My skin under her fingers burned like fire. We walked down the relatively small corridor, passing more women, none of them giving us more than a passing glance. After about ten minutes, in which neither of us broke the silence, we came to a chute entrance.

“This is a service chute. Take it to the ground floor, it will come out on the south side, near the river,” she stated.

“Thank you very much....” I said, leaving her the opportunity to add her name.

“You are welcome,” she smiled, not taking the bait. I watched her walk back the way we came, then turned to the chute. The door opened as I approached and I stepped in. I pushed the button for ground floor and my stomach was introduced to my throat. Down, down, down. I sat in a padded chair along the side. It was over two kilos to the ground floor, which takes a few minutes even as fast as this thing was dropping.

The chute car began to slow, sooner than I expected. I stood up and glanced at the door expectantly. It opened on darkness. I eased to the opening and peered out. The corridor stretched emptily in both directions. Not a person stirred, not a whisper cut the silence that permeated the air. I moved back to my seat and waited for the door to close. Odd... Someone had to push the button to stop the car, I thought. The door swished shut and the car started back down. Suddenly a chill ran through my body and the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. I had an overwhelming sense of being watched, but the car was empty. I was relieved when it finally came to a stop on the ground floor, and I hurried out as soon as the door opened wide enough for me to squeeze through.

At the end of the hall leading from the chute, I saw a door with a bright red exit sign over the top. I pushed through the heavy door, which shut behind me with a loud bang, and found myself outside. Experimentally, I pulled on the closed door. Nope, I couldn’t get back in this way. It must have been an exit only. I stared around, looking for a familiar landmark, something to tell me upon which side I had exited. Ruefully, I realized I hadn’t paid much attention to the surroundings, relying upon Dad to find the way. At that thought I grimaced, hoping they were all okay. I remembered my wristcom, reached to switch it on, and discovered it was missing. It must have gotten lost in the human stampede. I would have to find my way to the hotel and wait for them there.

I looked to see if I was near a corner of the giant building. It stretched forever in both directions. Looking up, I could see the building disappear among the clouds. Straight ahead from my position, I could see a river, something I didn’t recall seeing before. So that was one direction ruled out. I glanced left and right again, shrugged, and turned right. As I walked along the edge of the building, I looked curiously at the people gathered at the edge of the river. They seemed to be waiting for something. Suddenly, a bell tolled once, and the people rushed into the water, laughing and splashing each other. The water looked cool and inviting, seemingly no deeper than mid calf on an adult. I found myself veering toward the edge, so I decided a brief cooling down would be all right.

Rolling up the legs on my trousers, and holding my sandals in my fingers, I waded in to the refreshing current. I smiled as a little boy splashed water at me and I splashed some back. The bottom was sandy, soft under my feet, and the river very wide and shallow at this point. I walked along, lost in thought, wondering about my family, when I caught a glimpse of something familiar out of the corner of my eye. I turned sharply and saw what looked like my sister, or at least from the back, disappear behind a group of people. I hurriedly splashed my way to where I was sure she would be, and caught another brief glimpse farther away. I kept struggling through the crowd, shouting her name, but to no avail. She was always just out of reach.

Suddenly, a bell tolled twice, and people began hurriedly leaving the river, and I noticed I had gotten much closer to the other side than I thought. I turned to go the other way, when a tall man placed a hand on my arm. “There is not enough time. You must come this way,” he said, not unkindly. His hand remained fastened firmly to my arm, so I followed him out to the other bank of the river. Just as everyone was clear, a strange thing happened to the river. It just stopped. The water drained away, then the exposed bottom began to sink, dropping at least 15 feet below the previous level. It seemed to do this as far upstream and downstream as I could see.

I felt a breeze, and heard a roar from upstream. As I turned to look, I saw a wall of water rushing toward me, a wave at least 15 feet in height. It crashed by, leaving a roiling, whitecapped, surface, resembling the cool, calm water we were just in only in the width of the river. I would have to find another way across.

I couldn’t see any bridges in either direction. But the people had to cross somehow. I walked over to a man selling scarves and various items strewn on a table in front of him. He was painfully thin, with a hooked nose and large hoop rings dangling from each ear. When he spoke, his eyebrows seemed to move on their own, emphasizing each statement or question almost comically, yet there didn’t seem to be much humor about him.

“Excuse me sir,” I started.

“Yes? What can I do for you?” His eyebrows went up. “You need a scarf? How about this nice leather wallet? Come, come, speak up, customers are waiting.”

I glanced around, a little perplexed, since there was no one closer than twenty yards or so. “Uh, no, I’m not looking for a scarf or anything.” I said. “I just need....”

“Oh, you are maybe looking for something not on the table,” He leered. “My, uh, niece is occupied right now, but she will be available shortly. It’s fifty credits up front, unless you want something weird, I take coins or credit chips.”

I was so fascinated with his dancing eyebrows, that it took a second for what he had said to sink in. “No, no! I mean, all I need is some information. Directions.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place?” He pulled out a credit reader and laid it on the table. “Directions are five credits. Maps are ten credits.”

I sighed, and pulled out my credit chip. At least I hadn’t lost that. He took it in his skinny hand and inserted it into the reader. After keying in the amount, he handed it back, along with the receipt. “Okay, where do you need to go?” He asked.

“I want to get back across the river,” I said.

“But you just came over. You don’t like our side of the river?” His eyebrows disappeared under his hairline. And his hair was cut short. I just looked at him and he said, “Okay, okay. Here’s what you need to do. No boats or ferries are allowed on the river. There is a bridge ten kilometers down river. You can walk, or take a shuttle bus since you have credit. You must have a ticket, which you can purchase in there,” he indicated with his eyebrows a building about fifty yards away, “and you can catch the shuttle at the stop.”

I thanked him and made my way to the shuttle office. I gave the woman there my credit chip, took the ticket and my receipt, and went to the stop. The schedule indicated I had about fifteen minutes to wait. Casually, I looked around me, watching the people move about their business. I noticed two seedy looking characters talking to Eyebrow Man, and he pointed in my direction. They nodded and came towards me. Were they just asking directions? I doubted it. For one thing, they never parted with any money. I tensed, prepared for trouble. They probably thought I had coins on me. Well, let them come, I thought. I’m tired of running.

They saw me watching them, smiled wickedly at each other and spread out, one going left, the other, right. The one on the left was short and stocky, powerful looking. The other was taller and wiry. Tough customers. I could see I could expect no help from the bystanders, as they pulled away and looked in any direction but here. All right. I calmed myself and called up my training. I had been studying martial arts for years, but had never used it in self defense before. I might regret not running.

The best defense is a good offense. Not waiting for them to come to me, and risk both closing on opposite sides, catching me in a trap, I moved toward the shorter guy. Looking surprised, he nevertheless moved fast, pulling out a set of nunchaku and swinging at my head. Had I still been there, the blow could have been fatal, but I was crouched low by the time the short stick reached its farthest point on its swing. As he brought the nunchaku around for another swing, my foot shot up from the ground, striking his chin with a sharp crack. His eyes rolled up in his head and he crashed backwards, falling almost gracefully onto his back.

I rolled forward in a somersault, grabbing the nunchaku and coming to my feet in one motion, swinging the short sticks in a blur, switching from one hand to the other smoothly, creating a shield around me while I looked for the tall guy. He was close, a wicked looking knife in one hand. Desperately, I swung the nunchaku at his knife hand and was rewarded with another satisfying crack. When oak meets bone at over 160 kilos an hour, bone breaks. He screamed as he grabbed his wrist and dropped to his knees.

I dropped the nunchaku and sprinted for the shuttle, which was loaded and pulling out. I pulled into the bus, gave my ticket to the driver and sat gratefully into an empty seat. I had been lucky. I owed thanks to my training, but I knew they were expecting an easy mark. Otherwise it could have turned out vastly different. I ignored the stares of the other passengers, and settled in to watch for the bridge. The bus seemed to be an express, moving along the edge of the river only, making only occasional stops. Suddenly, in the distance I saw the bridge. The bus approached, then passed without stopping. I pulled on the cord. The driver stopped the shuttle and waited as I came to the front.

“The bridge is closed for repair, sonny,” he said, in reply to my query. “The next one is only twenty kilometers down.”

“Maybe they will let me cross,” I said. “I can walk across.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged.

I climbed out, the shuttle raised back off the ground, and moved quietly away. I looked closer at the bridge and my heart sank. There was a fifteen foot gap about halfway across. I stared ruefully at the shuttle as it disappeared in the growing darkness. With a start, I realized the sun was near setting. I shrugged and started down the road by the river.

The sun fell below the horizon, and the air took on a slight chill. A light breeze stirred my shirt tail and a few trees along the bank. Frogs and crickets sang in the night air. I appeared to be moving through an abandoned area, very few lights in the burned out husks of the brick and mortar buildings along the way. The glassless windows gaped like eyeless skulls. My eyes drawn to a flickering light in one of the ruined buildings, I almost missed it. The river narrowed at this point and across it spanned a rope bridge, with planks on the bottom. It looked well maintained, but was still very fragile looking, swaying in the cool breeze.

I took a deep breath and stepped out onto the bridge. It was easy going at first, then as I got further out, the wind picked up and the bridge began to sway even more. My hands were tight on the ropes, as I shakily made my way across. One step at a time, occasionally pausing and holding on as a particularly violent gust rocked the bridge. As I reached the halfway point, the rushing water was only a few feet below, the sound filling my ears, drops of cold water from the spray peppering my face, sometimes painfully in the high wind. Finally I was across, stepping gratefully onto solid ground.

The land on this side was different, heavily wooded and lush, with very few dwellings. A well worn path led off in the direction in which I was headed. It was dark, ferns and tropical plants growing along the edges. There was some kind of wooden sign beside the path, but the letters were long gone, worn away by the elements and time. Not having much of a choice, I started off along the trail.

The hairs on the back of my neck stirred as I traversed the path, the feeling of being watched overwhelming, stronger even than when I was on the lift. The silence was eerie, broken only by the crunching of my footprints, the sound of my own breathing, and the subdued sound of the river on the other side of the dense vegetation. Not an animal stirred or a cricket chirped. I was relieved as the moon rose above the horizon, providing a little light to see by. As I walked along, I reflected on my situation. It seemed forever since I had lost my family. Since then I seemed caught in a rollercoaster, no way to move but forward. I found it easier not to think about it and just move along, reacting as the situation demanded. Hopefully, after this long walk back I would find my family and everything would be okay again. Right.

The trail took a sharp turn to the left, closer to the river, then turned again. I took a sharp breath and crouched low, senses alert. Here the vegetation ended, or at least widened out into a clearing. In the middle of the clearing was a strange house, only one story, but the entire front was glass, and the roof covered with seashells of all sizes and colors. The path at my feet was now covered in seashells also and it led straight through the front yard of the house. The path glistened in the moonlight. As did the roof of the house. It all had a fairy tale look, but there was a sense of something wrong, and the feeling of being watched was palpable.

Without realizing I had started, I was halfway to the house, feet crunching on the seashell lined path. As I got closer, I could see into the dimly lit interior. A very tall and striking lady was pouring tea or something into a small cup from a silver teapot. She was wearing an almost transparent gown, emphasizing the fullness of her figure. Her ebony skin reflected the candle light, her muscles rippling beneath the fabric. My feet carried me passed her and I came upon an obstacle in the path. A large, gnarled tree grew right in the center of the path, briars and heavy undergrowth covering the ground from the tree to the waters edge. Odd...I don’t remember seeing this from the edge of the clearing, I thought. The vegetation went all the way to the edge of the house also, seeming to grow into the glass wall itself.

I searched along this wall of green and brown, but could find no way through. The river was out of the question, so I made my way back to the house. I reached out to the glass and my fingers went through, the glass rippling around them like ripples in water. I jerked my hand back and looked around. I took a deep breath and stepped through the glass, emerging on the other side with a shudder. The glass rippled for a second behind me, then solidified. The room I had entered was dark, but appeared empty. I hurried to a door on my right and walked down a long hallway, trying to walk as quiet as I could. I entered another room, glass on the front as the others, but in this one had an altar of some sort, candles burning all around. The hair began to rise on my neck again as a dark presence began to materialize behind the ornate altar.

“HOW DARE YOU TRESPASS IN MY SANCTUARY. FOR THIS YOU WILL PAY DEARLY,” when the dark shadow spoke, the sound resonated through the entire room, bouncing from wall to wall and through my body. I ran. I ran straight for the glass wall, hoping it was like the place I had entered. If not I would rather take my chances with broken glass than this nightmare. I jumped, penetrated the liquid glass and rolled on the ground. As I came up I heard a wicked laugh, and I was suddenly in the air, being lifted by an invisible force and carried out over the water. I looked down at the rushing river, less than ten feet below my legs, and saw an incredible sight.

A dog, the biggest and blackest dog I had ever seen, was running along the top of the water, looking up at me hungrily, drool dripping from bared canines. My heart was in my throat, I had never been this scared, even in the human stampede. That, I could understand. I felt myself dropping lower and willed myself to stay up, out of the reach of those sharp canines. I actually moved a little higher and began to pull ahead of that menacing presence below me. I looked across the water and realized I was almost at the edge. I put out my hand toward one of the ruined buildings and willed myself towards it. I began to change directions. The power flowing around me was exhilarating. Whatever, or whoever, was holding me up must have made a mistake, as I had partial control of my height and direction. I strained mightily, and held myself up long enough to reach a broken window on the second story of this building. I landed gratefully inside and turned around, looking for that dog.

It was there, growling terribly and looking for a way inside. I had had enough. Still feeling that strange power around me, I held out my open hand and gathered some into a fireball. It hovered just off the surface of my palm, I could feel my hair rising from the electricity. I threw it like a baseball and connected. The fireball hit the animal, swelling around it in a cacoon, and exploded. There was nothing left.

I looked back across the river, and it was if I could see inside that house, as if I was right there. The woman stood next to the dark shadow, her mouth hanging open. “What happened?” she asked that dark presence. “Why didn’t you drop him in the water?”

“THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG. I LET HIM DROP HALFWAY ACROSS, BUT HE STAYED UP. HE KNOWS THE WAY. AND HE HAS DESTROYED MY PET. YOU WILL KILL HIM FOR THIS.” The woman shrank away, looking scared.

“But he must be a wizard. He knows the WAY. It will not be easy,” she stated tremulously. “How could one who knows the WAY have gotten so close without us feeling his presence?”

“SILENCE! YOU WILL DO THIS...OR I WILL KILL YOU MYSELF...SLOWLY,” the darkness retreated behind the altar and disappeared.

I closed my eyes, pulling back into myself, gathering my thoughts. I didn’t understand what had happened. Or whatever this WAY was. But I could feel something different, as if a sixth sense I had forgotten about had resurfaced. I flexed my hands, feeling the power gather at my finger tips. Yes. I could feel the WAY. Now it was time to find out what it was. I could sense the woman coming across the rope bridge. There was an aura around her, like the power I felt in the air, but very weak. I grinned at my reflection in a broken mirror on the wall. She would do. She would tell me what she knows...My fingers began to glow...

No, I can’t, I thought. Not yet. I have to find my family. But, I’ll be back, I vowed. Yeah, I’ll be back...


******************

The dark woman paused, a motion catching her eye. A silver ball of fire flew out of the broken building, circled her head twice and shot off so fast it appeared to disappear. She cast out, trying to catch it, but to no avail. She simply was not strong enough. She clutched her arms around herself, shivering. She dreaded going back empty handed, but a tiny bit of hope began forming in her mind. This one was strong in the Way. She had been a slave of the Dark One longer than she could remember. The boy might be useful in removing the chains binding her to Him.

Later, her punishment was shortened, much to the disgust of the Dark One. Even with the blood flowing, the whip was no fun when it brought smiles instead of tears. No fun at all.

Impressum

Texte: Copyright: Larkin T. Livesay, Jr.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 15.12.2011

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