The New World: A Step Backward (3 page)

Monday
~
August 5, 2075
~
1:10 pm

Walking across the creaking drawbridge planks with Fluf trailing behind him, Thoruk and his buddies headed toward Doc's with the deadly hyacinth's victim.  The typical midday buzz filled the air when Thoruk entered Ukkiville's walls.

To the right, he heard talkative farmers charming families into taking a glimpse at their fresh-picked fruits and vegetables.  With the succulent, red strawberries and plump blueberries displayed front and center at every stand in the open arena, he could see that those fruits were the most bountiful harvest of the week.

Across the way to the left of the entrance, he observed shrewd trading post operators bargaining with townspeople, eager to negotiate the best deal possible.  Thoruk and his friends kept their heads low and didn't speak, hoping nobody would notice as they continued along the road near the large creek that meandered through the village.

While moving past the town's feed store on the left, little was happening there, given the heart of the planting season was over and the greater harvest activity wasn't due for another month or so.

Hearing a loud humming whine from the same side further ahead, Thoruk concluded the mills, housed in tan and dark brown stone walls, were churning at full capacity.

Beyond that he noted a collection of small, whirling windmills and black solar panels Intellulka had set up to complement the creek's water to generate power to run Ukkiville's mills and granary.  The limited electricity also ran a large water pump used to fill a huge, elevated tank, supplying a small portion of water for the villagers.

Thoruk felt awkward trying to blend into the background, given he typically mingled with the crowd to soak in the latest scoop on events and activities.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a whizzing blur.  Two spry, teenage boys ran up to him.  The skinny, short-cropped lad spoke first.  "Thoruk!  What do you have there?"

Shivers, I wish they hadn't seen us.  Now I've got to tell them something.  Surely they'll see the blood dripping down Fluf's back.
  He slowly lifted his head, tucking his injured hand behind him, and shrugged.  "Nothing really.  We found something we want Doc to look at."

The stout, shaggy-haired boy pointed in the direction of the covered corpse.  "Whose hand is that?"

Thoruk turned to glance back and saw the woman's arm dangling along the bear's side. 
I've got to keep them quiet.

Determined not to get the village unnecessarily excited about the dead body before he knew the cause and confirmed the guilty party behind the killing, he peered at the mystery seekers.  "I need a big favor from both of you.  I need you to keep quiet about this and not tell a soul.  If you can do that, I'll take both of you fishing at Protuk's place the next time I go."

He knew every young boy in the village dreamed of getting a shot at fishing at the Master of Arms' lake.  Everybody knew the biggest lunkers came from Protuk's fishing hole.

The youngsters' eyes widened to the size of walnuts.  They both whispered in unison with their fingers over their mouths.  "Yes sir.  We'll keep quiet.  We promise!"

"Now go and don't say a word to anyone."  Thoruk waved them off. 
They are sure to tell somebody, but at least this will slow them down a bit.

He pivoted and increased the pace to their destination, passing the school and church located on their right, just before the doctor's cabin.

When they arrived, Mercivil and Stormulka led Fluf to Doc's while Thoruk ran to the neighboring home and bounded up the steps to Intellulka's place.  He pounded on the solid oak door.  "Let me in, Old Man."

"Who's there?"

Thoruk knocked again.  "Me — you know — the young man who always calls you 'Old Man.' "

The handle turned and an egg-shaped head with long, thinning, cotton-white hair peeked around the door.  It was Intellulka, the lone inhabitant of Ukkiville old enough to have lived in the Old World before the transformation.

Intellulka scrunched his wrinkled face and squinted at Thoruk.  "Oh, you again.  Don't you tire of being a pest?  You're like an angry bee that won't leave me alone.  Where's your shirt?  Do you ever visit anybody fully clothed?  Shoo.  Leave me alone."

"No.  I can't.  You've got to see this."  Thoruk's blood-soaked shirt was still wrapped around his wounded hand.

Noticing the injury, the professor guided Thoruk inside and clutched his arm above the make-shift bandage.  "What happened?"

"That's not what I'm here for.  Look at these."  He lifted the other hand draped with a few of the botanical chompers.  "This is what you need to see."  His mud-caked palm extended toward the professor.

Intellulka's shaky, weather-worn fingers snatched the tangled mess.  "There's more light over here."  He pulled Thoruk toward the kitchen.  "What is this?"

"Hyacinth."  Thoruk scanned the kitchen.  Dishes, caked with weeks-old food and hints of green mold, were piled everywhere.  Never wanting to miss an opportunity to rib his dear friend, he let loose.  "Stunning, your place hasn't changed a bit since the last time I was here.  What happened to your maid?"

"What maid?  I never had any maid.  I've always picked up after myself.  I don't do it very often as you can see."  Seemingly flustered, the wily tutor raised the plant a bit closer.  "I've never seen a hyacinth like this."

"Of course you haven't.  This is not normal."  Thoruk shook his head as he quickly rattled off his thoughts.  "We found a dead woman floating in the Lake of Dreams.  The mutilated body was covered with gruesome teeth marks.  We didn't know what to think."

He chattered so fast, his mentor couldn't catch up.  "Whoa, slow down a bit.  My hearing ain't what it used to be.  What did you find?"

"These."  He pointed to the stringy stems in the man's crusted palm.  "That's what I've been trying to tell you.  When we got near a cluster of hyacinth — see these jaws — they started snapping at the oar, boat — and one got my finger.  Look at those teeth.  They're razor sharp.  They were even biting into the wood."

"That is interesting."  Intellulka pinched his lower lip between his thumb and finger.  One of the little chompers began vibrating.  "This is remarkable."

Without warning, it clamped onto the pencil Intellulka held and started gnawing, then stopped.  "Whoa!  That was close!  Help me get this crunching critter off.  Be careful!  Those are the mandibles of a piranha.  They're not from around here.  They thrive in the warmer waters of the Old Amazon River.  Look, see these pyramid-shaped teeth.  They're designed to rip through flesh with ease."

Thoruk lifted his sore limb.  "I know, I know — see?"  With his throbbing hand, he motioned toward the doctor's cabin.  "Mercy and Storm took the deceased to Doc's.  Those wretched chops tore most of the flesh from her body."

Intellulka glanced in that direction.  "I'll need to inspect the corpse too.  I think I know who's behind this."  He closed his eyes and rubbed his scraggly, white beard.  "Zolokt.  This definitely looks like one of his heinous concoctions."

Disgust and loathing roiled Thoruk's gut upon hearing the name of the ruthless Skalag ruler, whose nephew killed his father.  He clenched his teeth as a tumor of hatred swelled within his chest. 
I'm going to kill Zolokt someday!

From prior conversations with his old professor, Thoruk knew Intellulka harbored a deep appreciation of the intellect and creativity of a scientist such as Zolokt, despite abhorring the death and destruction left in the wake of the madman's creations.

Intellulka's eyes glazed over while he stood motionless, staring out the window without expression, like a statue from the era of Roman Emperors.

Trying to shake the visions of his earlier ordeal, Thoruk examined several intricate knick-knacks scattered across the stained cedar shelves in the living room.  Having glossed over the clutter of figurines and photos a hundred times before with little interest, an old picture hidden in the far corner now caught his eye.  He picked it out from the others and blew on the dust-frosted frame.

Squinting at the three people in the yellowing photo, he snapped his fingers and gently grabbed his friend's arm.  "Intellulka, who is in this picture?  Is that you?  Where is this?"

Appearing to scour the muddy pool of his memory, the professor removed his spectacles.  "Mmm — yes, this is me, when I was Tyler Luca — in 2013 at Michigan State University.  You know — it was Storm's dad who took me into their family several years later.  He used my new naming convention back then and began calling me 'Intellulka,' which has stuck with me ever since.  A year or so later, your father and I became great friends because I wanted to learn about hunting and fishing; and he was curious about the Old World and science."

A smile broadened across Intellulka's face as he pointed at the other two standing next to him in the picture.  "That's Cassie and Jacob, my best buddies in college."

"Why were all of you wearing the same green and white clothes?"

"Because we were at a basketball game, and that's what everybody did back then.  We wore our school colors to show support for our team."

Thoruk smirked.  "Seems pretty strange — even for you.  What were you studying back then?"

"Lots of science and engineering classes.  I was earning my bachelor's degree in electrical engineering.  Jacob was learning physics and bioengineering.  Cassie — well, she was majoring in forensics and crime scene investigation with a minor in chemical engineering.  We did everything together back then — studied, went to games; we even took an Electromagnetic Waves class together because we wanted to know more about electromagnetic pulse generators."

Thoruk scratched his head.  "I'm not even going to pretend to understand everything you just said."

The old professor grinned.  "Wow, I haven't thought about my buddies in a very long time.  That was over 60 years ago.  The three of us were as close back then as you are to Storm and Mercy now.  Don't ever let go of your treasured friendships."

The scientist wiped a tear from his cheek.  "Back then, the three of us figured that this area, right here where Ukkiville is located, would be safer than most during the attacks of the World Annihilation Period.  So Jacob and I moved here in 2019 and camped out on this very spot, where my cabin sits today."

"What about Cassie?  What happened to your friends?"

"Jacob set out from here in 2021, heading to Old California with hopes of finding family members who survived the initial attacks.  I haven't heard from him since."

Intellulka stared down at his hands.  "And dear Cassie — well — she died in 2019 in the initial attack, the same day Jacob and I moved here.  Oh, I miss her so.  She was always full of energy and laughter."  His eyes moistened as his gaze returned to the window.

Thoruk put his arm around his friend's shoulder and squeezed him. 
I swear, Intellulka must have loved that girl.  I've never heard him speak of any woman like that before.

Memories of terrifying chompers suddenly burst upon his conscience
.  Blazes, I'm definitely not going to get much sleep tonight with Zolokt in my head.  I'm sure we haven't seen the last of his wicked monstrosities!

Tuesday
~
August 6, 2075
~
8:30 am

Thoruk leaned against the gnarly bark of his favorite oak tree, enjoying the cool shade on a morning warming quickly.  As Mercivil, Fluf, and Stormulka arrived for their morning rendezvous, he tightened the laces of his elk hide moccasins.

He glanced toward his friends.  "I didn't sleep much last night.  All I thought about was Zolokt.  That maniac is up to something again.  I know it!  We need to keep our eyes peeled for any more of his freakish experiments."

Wearing cream-colored sheepskin shorts, Mercivil arched her back.  "I didn't sleep much either.  That murderer has already killed three of our villagers in the past few years with his unearthly muclones.  He's too dangerous; we've got to stop him!"

Thoruk stared straight ahead. 
She's right.  I've got to get with Protuk — and Wolfuk.  We need to check out Zolokt's operations.
  "You're right.  If Zolokt is the one doing this again, we need to put an end to him and his Skalags!  I'll set up a meeting so we can discuss this first thing tomorrow."

Fluf slumped next to Thoruk and extended her furry, white neck.  He reached across and scratched her; she showed her pleasure with a deep, throaty rumble.

Stormulka plopped on the ground and snugged his laces.  "While you worrywarts tossed and turned, I slept like a log.  I dreamt of Mercy all night long."

Glaring, she kicked his moccasin.  "Shut up!  Don't you ever think about anything else?"

"Nope, just your long, blond hair and sparkling, blue eyes.  That's all I need for a good night's slumber."  He lifted his arms and stretched.  "Ahhh."

"Well, Stormy boy, dreaming is all you're ever going to get.  So enjoy it while you sleep."

Fluf slowly rose and sauntered near Stormulka, plunking herself on his foot.  She curled her upper lip and softly snarled.

Stormulka feigned a scowl at Mercivil.  "You're the antagonizer behind this.  Snowball here was behaving herself fine next to Thoruk, until I began fiddling with my laces."

"What can I say?"  She snickered.  "Perhaps you should get ready at home before you get here.  I'm not responsible for who she chooses to like or dislike."

Wearing a sleeveless, sheepskin shirt, Thoruk jogged in place.  "Come on you two.  You're always fighting like a married couple.  We need to anticipate what Zolokt's going to do next.  Last time he was active with his experiments, his cross-mutated plants and wildlife came in waves.  That piranha-hyacinth was deadly.  There could be more of such savage concoctions lurking out there."

Stormulka got up.  "Yea, you're right.  We better keep a lookout while we're out on our run."  He took off along the trail.  "Let's see if Fancy Girl can finish some place other than last this morning."

She glared as she ran past him.  "I really do hate you.  Go trip over a rock."

As Thoruk caught up he noticed the sounds of the forest.  "The songbirds sure do sound a whole lot better than you two going at it.  Hey, do you remember the first of Zolokt's creations?"

Mercivil shuddered.  "Yea, we found a lady lying on the ground in her flower bed with all those yellow butterflies dying beside her."

Stormulka shook his head. "Those weren't ordinary butterflies.  I'll never forget those swollen marks covering her body.  Each of her wounds had a huge stinger with a pulsating venom sac.  She didn't have a chance."

Thoruk looked at Mercivil.  "Do you remember a few of Zolokt's other creepy muclones — what about those lizards?"

Grabbing his arm, she peered into his forest green eyes.  "Oh, I loathe them so much.  I still have nightmares about flying reptiles with their long tongues shooting out.  In my sleep they're chasing me — they never quit!

"Hey, Storm.  How come you're never in my dreams to save me?  What I want is a real man.  You know — a white knight kinda guy — not somebody always lusting after something he's never gonna get."

Ever ready for banter with his favorite friends, Stormulka grinned.  "Well, Cinderella, continue imagining those fairy tales and you'll be an old maid in no time at all.  I recall those lizards buzzing all around the lights of the village, snapping up every moth and mosquito they could zap with their tongue.  They gorged themselves so much, thousands were sprawled across the village the next day.  What a mess."

While they continued their jog down the trail, Thoruk turned his head toward Mercivil.  "Do you miss the school children during the summer?"

She chuckled.  "Some — but I do appreciate the break as well."

Sliding on loose gravel, Thoruk stopped and cupped a hand to his ear. "Shhh, can you hear that?"

"No.  What is it?"  Mercivil smirked, obviously thinking he was kidding.

Stormulka cocked his head.  "Yea, I hear it too.  Sounds like somebody yelling for help."  He pointed in the direction of the sound.

Thoruk sprinted toward the screams.  "Come on!  Someone needs help."  As he weaved through a cluster of maples, he darted to the left.  "Here.  This way!"

Mercivil zoomed by Thoruk.  "There, I see him.  Keep up."

Thoruk's stomach hardened.  "What on earth is that?"  He could barely make out the head and feet of a young man, held upright and constrained against a tree by a huge, snarly vine.  Thorny tentacles at least 10 feet long flailed about from a multitude of directions.  The thorns were large, curved and needle-sharp like an osprey's talons, only green.

As Thoruk approached, the pale victim's bloodshot eyes bulged.  A couple of the smaller feelers twisted and turned, intruding his nostrils; his moans were barely audible.  "We've got to move fast.  He's dying."

Stormulka blew past him, holding the knife he always carried.  But one of the menacing vines sprung from its coiled position and snatched him by the waist.

He sliced away at the beastly plant holding him tight.  "Don't worry about me.  Help that man."  As tentacles of the injured, botanical devil relaxed and slid across his arm, the serrated foliage tore through his flesh with ease.  "Ahh!  Watch out for the leaves!  They're really sharp!"

Thoruk motioned toward the other tentacle whipping about.  "Mercy.  Take care of that vine.  I'll help the man."

Whirling, she pointed to Fluf.  "Stay!"  Mercivil lunged at the flailing limb of the ruthless vine.  Her guardian let out a thunderous growl but remained in place.

Thoruk grabbed the small, finely-honed battle-ax he kept for protection and whacked at the larger tentacles around the victim's limp body.  Dark green liquid oozed from every gash inflicted on the fiendish plant.

Pausing, he pulled the small offshoots from the young man's nose.  As Thoruk cut through more of the brutal assailant's creeping arms, its hold gave way.  He reached up and severed the large tentacle gripping Stormulka.

His buddy rushed to Mercivil's side and slashed through the vine she was fighting.  "Are you okay, Mercy?"

"I'm fine.   Just help Thoruk get that man out."

As Thoruk unraveled the last remaining restraint of the monster, he and Stormulka caught the drooping body and laid him gently on the ground.

Jumping to the head of the victim, Mercivil pulled a feeler from his throat and began mouth to mouth resuscitation.  "Start depressing his chest.  Now!"

Thoruk applied his palms and pushed down on the sternum.  "Storm, make sure that thing is dead."  He tilted his head toward the green devil.

Stormulka clutched Thoruk's ax and hacked every tentacle showing any semblance of life.  "How's he doing?"

The man's hand moved.  Then he heaved and coughed up a handful of small blood-covered leaves.  His chest started rising and falling while pink returned to his face.

"He's going to be okay."  Mercivil stroked his sweaty hair and glimpsed at Thoruk.  "You can stop pressing on him now."

From all the pricks of the unusually long thorns, several red splotches bloomed through the young man's clothing.  Thoruk ripped open the victim's blood-stained shirt.  "We need to stop the bleeding."

He removed his own top, exposing his broad, muscular shoulders and brawny, bare chest glistening with sweat.  Crisscrossed over his lightly-freckled back were several tiny, faded scars from previous battles.

Using the sharp blade, he cut his thin, sheepskin shirt into small strips and placed them across several of the bigger lacerations.  "Storm, come here.  Cut your shirt into strips and apply them to the other wounds."

Attempting to make light of the stressful situation, Stormulka turned to Mercivil.  "I will if Dreamgirl will."

She jerked her head in his direction and glared.  "Not funny!  Take your shirt off!  Now is not the time to kid around."

Fluf stared at Stormulka and gurgled.

Mercivil took a moment to look over the young man's tortured body.  "I've seen him before, helping his father with some hay.  I'll stop by and talk to his family later."

"That's a great idea.  Thank you."  With the commotion settling, Thoruk went back to the tree to get another look and noticed the vine still twitched.  He chopped off what he thought to be the last living remnant of the ferocious attacker.

A crimson flash caught the corner of his eye.  He glanced down and shirked back, almost falling over.  There, on the thickest part of the vine, two hideous, red eyes slowly blinked.