Authors: Cathy Perkins,Taylor Lee,J Thorn,Nolan Radke,Richter Watkins,Thomas Morrissey,David F. Weisman
He shook his head and shuffled toward
Mara. Samuel did not think she had moved since he fought with Major. He knelt
down at her feet, collapsing to his knees. The vibrations coming through the cave
walls intensified and began to pressurize his ears. He opened his mouth wide
and held his nose while exhaling, trying to release the pressure as if he were
on a commercial airliner.
“Samuel?”
He flinched and looked up from the
ground. Mara’s eyes fluttered in the dying light. Samuel reached for her hand.
“Hold me,” she said.
***
Samuel waited longer than was necessary.
Mara gasped, inhaling the air as if it were full of thorny barbs. He glanced
back at Major’s body before smiling at her.
“He attacked me. Threatened to kill me
and find the talisman on my body.”
She nodded. “He’s gone?” she asked.
Now it was Samuel’s turn to nod.
“The cloud? The reversion?”
“Clamping down.”
Samuel told Mara about how the reversion
threatened to consume the mountain and cave the way it had everything else.
“What now?” she asked.
Samuel paused and drew a deep breath.
“I opened that portal for Major. Not sure
how, but it opened, and I know I could get us in it.”
Mara shook her head. He could see the
pain in her eyes and the struggle it took for her to move even that much.
“Not me, Samuel. I won’t be going.”
“Don’t say that. Who knows what could
happen to the wounds you suffered in this locality, at the hands of this
reversion? They could disappear entirely.”
She shook her head again, raising her
right hand to let her fingers trail down the side of Samuel’s cheek. He looked
into her face and accepted the situation.
“So you lie here and die? Is that the
plan?”
“At least one more time,” she said. When
Samuel began to ask her what she meant, she placed a finger over his
mouth. “There isn’t enough time for me to give you what you want. But there are
some things we need to finish.”
Samuel nodded. He slipped a hand into his
pocket, his mind already wondering which of the items he carried was the
talisman. His ticket out of one dying world and into another.
“I’m on my own cycle. Ours happened to
overlap, but they’re distinct.”
Samuel nodded, watching the strain the
conversation had on Mara’s strength. “You’ve been here before,” he said.
“I have,” she said, her eyes scanning the
cavern.
“And the others?” Samuel asked. He looked
over his shoulder. “Him? Kole?”
“Sometimes. Not always,” she said.
Samuel nodded again, waiting.
The darkness from the reversion crept
closer to where they sat in the recess of the main cavern. The shapeless and
soundless monster oozed through the entrance, taking gulps of stone and
stalagmites. They watched it spread across the floor like twilight seen from
space. The air inside the cave became still, suffocating. The cloud dissipated
the water and stole the ambient light from within.
“When I was a little girl, I loved
sitting on my dad’s lap. We’d watch television or sometimes read a book. It
didn’t matter. What I remember is that feeling of being safe, secure, loved. I
would curl up on his chest and the rest of the world would melt away. It wasn’t
long before pre-adolescence ended that feeling forever. But I lived to
recapture it, and at times, I did. It might be a fleeting look of a lover or
the comfort of a blanket on a frigid winter’s night, but I collected those.”
Samuel waited, feeling as though none of
the words Mara used could be wasted.
“Whether you’re the giver or the
recipient of those moments, you must find them too, Samuel. I need you to live
wholeheartedly. I want you to promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll
seek those out, relish them and give others the opportunity to do so as well.
You are worthy of your existence. What you bring to the world matters. And that
light cannot be snuffed by a cave, or a cloud, or a reversion.”
Samuel laughed with Mara. “Don’t forget
the undead hordes.”
It was her turn to smile.
“You and I have something unfinished,”
Mara said. “I need you to know it’s not pleasant for either of us, but it must
happen before the reversion in this place ends.”
“Anything,” he said. “I’ll do anything
for you after all of the pain I’ve caused.”
She shook her head. “You were not the
cause of my pain. You helped define my path, that’s all.”
“Euphemisms,” he said.
“Truth,” she said.
Samuel shivered. The spreading gloom
crawled up the walls like the animated shadows of an old horror film. He saw
tendrils of black spreading across the face of the limestone while more of the
physical space fell into the spreading void.
“Tell me what must be done.”
“First, help me sit.”
Samuel maneuvered behind Mara. He slid
his hands underneath her arms and pulled her up until she was able to rest her
back against the cave wall. Samuel heard her whimper as the movement agitated
her wounds. He waited while she drew deep breaths.
“Do you remember our time in the coffee
shop? In the dream?”
Samuel grinned. He pictured her dolled up
in maroon-red lipstick and hip-hugging, black denim stretched across all of the
right places.
“Yes.”
“Good. I wish I could say we’re going
back there, but we’re not. But we have to do the same thing to go somewhere
else, a place you’ll find painful.”
Samuel looked at the black fingers
silently scratching their way down the wall.
“It will wait until we’re finished,” she
said, following his gaze.
“What should I do?” he asked.
“Nothing. Let me lead. Once we’re there,
you’ll know what to do.”
“Where are we going?”
“I can’t answer all of your questions,
Samuel. You’ll need to trust me. Can you trust me?”
“Yes,” he said, nodding. “But I’m coming
back alone, aren’t I?”
Mara smiled. “Take my hand and don’t let
go.”
Samuel maneuvered his hand into hers. He
felt her cold, clammy skin, and he shuddered, imagining what it would feel like
in the near future. Mara’s skin looked translucent, as if her very essence was
fading with the approach of the reversion. Her hair looked greasy and thin, and
her eyes were sunk deep into their sockets.
“I’m going to close my eyes and when I
do, you should, too. We’ll be somewhere different, and yet we’ll still be here.
I can’t explain.”
He squeezed her hand.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“Mara,” he said, “I hope the crossing of
our paths helps you. I hope you get peace.”
“We all deserve peace,” she said.
Mara closed her eyes and Samuel followed
her lead. He felt the ground sway, and the electrical thrumming returned to his
feet and shot through his legs to his torso. Samuel heard a brush of air move
across his skin. The breeze felt different than the air in the cavern. Mara’s
hand pulsed in his, a quick jolt to let him know she was still there. Samuel
arrived in his not-so-distant past.
***
“C’mon, Sammy. ‘Tis the season.”
He looked into his friend’s face, red
and swollen from Christmas cheer in the form of whiskey bottles and wine
carafes.
“I can’t, man. I have to get home.
Kim’s going to be worried sick.”
John held up one finger while the
other hand came close to letting the aged whiskey jump the lip on his glass and
land on the expensive Berber carpet in the boss’s living room. The chilly
Detroit December made it even more difficult to leave the party. Samuel looked
around the room and chuckled. A few of his coworkers were making obscene
gestures with ornaments they grabbed from the tree while the shy ladies of the
office sat on a couch, sipping mint schnapps stirred with candy canes. The
aroma of ginger and chocolate floated by on the notes of John Lennon’s famous
Christmas melody. Samuel had lost sight of the boss, who was upstairs going
over the sales figure of his administrative assistant.
“Check it,” Johnny said. He held a
black, plastic object in one hand.
“One of the new smartphones. No more
shitty signals for me. Got the full voice and data plan.”
“That’s sweet. How’s coverage?” Samuel
asked, slipping into the tech talk that came so naturally to him.
“Everywhere. Try it out. Call Kim and
let her know you’re fine.”
“I gotta go.”
Johnny rolled his eyes. “Dude, just
call her and get yourself another whiskey sour.”
Johnny handed Samuel the phone and
began picking his way through the people hovering near the natural-gas
fireplace. Samuel made more small talk with the group before pushing toward the
den, where the hired bartender stood with a gaping yawn. He dialed his
number, and the digits on the LCD display made Samuel squint at the device.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
“Hello?”
The voice came through the pinhole on
the earpiece.
“Hey, hon.”
“Sam. What time is it?”
He looked down at his watch with the
company logo crested in the middle of the face.
“Early evening, I think.” As soon as
he said it, Samuel cringed, knowing he should have been more precise to prove
his sobriety.
“Everything okay?” Kim asked.
“Yeah, fine. Johnny gave me his new
smartphone to call you. It’s one of those—”
“Sam,” Kim said, cutting off his
excitement about the newest gadget he would have to own. “You’re leaving now, I
assume.”
“Sorry. Listen, I’m going to hang here
with the guys, telling office jokes and making fun of each other’s nine irons.
Gonna be a bit later.” The pause forced Samuel to look at the phone’s
touch-screen display to make sure it had did not dropped the call. “Kim?”
“Get a cab,” she said.
“Honey, I’m fine. I’ve already started
on the black coffee,” Samuel said, looking at the whiskey in his opposite hand.
“Samuel,” she said with a tone that
made his heart ache.
“Really, I’m fine. Keep the back porch
light on.”
He heard the rustling of the comforter
on the other end. Samuel could see her dark hair spread across the black,
flannel sheets they put on the bed for winter. He could smell the conditioner
in her hair, which would have been blown dry and brushed. Samuel could almost
feel the smoothness of her skin from a leg shave in the tub and moisturizing
bath salts. He felt his mouth go dry, seeing his wife’s naked body buried
beneath the mounds of bedding like a gift, waiting for his arrival.
“Please be careful.”
Samuel took a deep breath and nodded
until he remembered Kim was not in the room.
“I will. And Kim?”
“Yes?”
He looked around the room at several
people within earshot and reconsidered what he was about to say.
“Nothing. Love you. See you later
tonight.”
“Okay, Sam.”
A click followed, and Samuel handed
the sleek phone back to his friend.
“We all good?” Johnny asked.
“All good,” Samuel said.
They sat at the table in the dining
room, where the boss reappeared. His administrative assistant sat on the couch
with the other ladies of the office, her hair wispy and her lipstick in need of
some touch up.
“Cards, anyone?”
“It’s a Christmas party, boss. We
can’t play poker,” Johnny said.
“Holiday party,” his boss said. “The
wife and kids are gone for the weekend. This is anything I want it to be.”
Samuel looked over his shoulder at the
ladies gathered on the couch, and then at the men around the table.
“Who’s dealing?” Samuel asked.
The poker game played out as most do.
A forgetful carousel of laughter, dick jokes and evaluations of female anatomy.
The ladies on the couch left to return home to their balding husbands, who
would lay a paunch on their stomachs for the two minutes it would take to
finish the job. A few observers stood behind the table, pretending to be amused
by the entertainment only gamblers can enjoy.
Samuel looked at his stack of chips
and shook his head. He had cashed in twice, and there were no bills left in his
wallet. Johnny saw him look and flashed Andrew Jackson at him from under the
table. Samuel shook his head, even though he found the offer to borrow money
for more chips tempting.
“I’ve only got one or two more hands
in me, fellas.”
“Keep your desk next to Fagboy
Davidson and you’ll have more than one or two hands in you, if you know what
I’m saying.”
Samuel laughed at the vulgar
homophobia. He knew it was offensive, but it was also funny. Davidson was still
in the closet, although some might say he had one foot sticking out, and it
wore a red pump.
“It’s already dark, and Kim’s going to
want me to fix the leaky faucet before I go to bed tonight.”
“You fucking family men,” Johnny said.
“You’re always getting told what to do by the ball and chain.”
The table roared with laughter, and
Samuel waved them off, feeling the Catholic guilt his parents used to raise
him.
“One more for me, then I’m done,” he
said.
“That’s what she said,” came from
another seat at the table, which pitched the group into more laughter.
“Then you’ll need this to help it
down.”
Johnny poured the whiskey from the
bottle directly into Samuel’s glass. He slammed it down on the table and
slapped Samuel on the back.
“To Sammy and his family. May he find
an easy way to get his wife to consent to a three-way and bring some fun into
his boring, suburban life.”