Travel Bug (47 page)

I loved my ancestors and they loved me.

We could all see, as one, man’s unspeakable suffering caused by his insatiable lust for power and to control the world around him. Well, at least, the few who seized power, almost every time by violent force. There was war, crime, poverty and misery and time after time, insurrections that produced something a thousand times more monstrous than what they were fighting against. I asked what caused this terrible pattern. I was unsure if it was superstition or merely the need to worship something or someone.

What was the source? I wanted, needed to know.

The wise ones already knew and told me deep down inside of me, I knew the answer.

Tribalism was the center of human all human suffering and misery……

Now my dear family, the wise ones knew the true nature of mankind. They predated tribalism as they were all one tribe, if indeed such a word could be used to describe their radical goodness.

These hairy ancestors of man knew the truth about the nature of good and evil.

There was never any need for angels to guide us, demons to damn us, saints to lead us or a higher form of life from another planet to teach us…

The real nature of good and evil…

Human terror when it recoils from self-awareness…

The feelings of guilt after the awful appetites of lusts and violence are fully satisfied…

The need to drink and drug to drown or distort the awful face of truth…

Having the wisdom to understand why the truth has no friends…

Feeling the spiritual truth of being part of something bigger than you and not having to be a king who sits on top of a mountain of skulls…

The wise ones shared their wisdom.

This, they shared with me.

I was enlightened in their circle of truth…

They saved my soul…

And they were going to save my life…

Step into the doorway.

I will.

Don’t be afraid, step into the doorway.

I did.

The quickening…

That’s what happens when a baby first shows undeniable evidence that it’s alive and wants to be born. It’s quick as they used to say. Raising the dead is another way life fights to be alive and born and reborn. The quickening is life itself because it raises the dead.

The Rapture woman screamed in the cave of the unnamed species with such horrible noise, I thought I was in hell for the first moment I regained consciousness.

“I’ll get you, you little fucker!” she hissed.

I paused.

There were urban legends of decapitated men, of severed heads that still had enough oxygen in the brain, to live on for a moment or two. I looked down at my feet, I grabbed my neck.

She was talking to me and not my great grandfather. He was on her back, his arms vainly around her throat. She wielded the razor sharp ax and damn near cut my head off for the fourth time.

I ducked.

I was quick……

My head was right where it was supposed to be.

“I’ll kill you, you bitch,” Harold shouted.

I seized the opportunity. She left an open widow, albeit a very brief one. While she snarled at my great grandfather, I picked up a rotten apple from the cave floor. I threw it at her with all my might, almost in a deluded state, believing I was David and the witch was Goliath.

She dropped Harold and laughed at me.

“I’ll kill you, witch,” I said.

It didn’t matter that she was much closer to annoyed or even amused then frightened. The old man ran away and stood behind me. I had no idea how a man could be decapitated three times and rise again.

“You’re pathetic, both of you,” she snarled.

Her eyes became white, like a shark’s eyes do when it bites its prey in half.

“We stopped your future,” Harold said.

“
You stopped nothing. The future story has already been written and you’ve had the honor of reading it, my dear ones
…”

She starred at us like some zombie demon from a B movie, a very bloody one. She laughed or rather cackled, and then slowly lowered her axe.

“
Knowing time’s secrets is a terrible thing, gentlemen. A most terrible thing
……”

“Is that why you’re doing this?” I asked and immediately regretted.

“
No
…”

“Why then?” Harold asked, honestly curious.

She could not read our minds; she was not part of our tribe, so to speak. The witch didn’t have to. Humans don’t need to be clairvoyant to make a damn good guess what others are thinking.

“Why?” I asked.

“
A mountain of skulls
……”

“
A mountain of skulls
……”

“
A mountain of skulls
……”

The woman from Tennessee, a victim of a wretched father, jealous of her siblings, disappointed by her husband’s lack of manhood and forced to serve others had a severe problem. She had seen signs and wonders that only a few had others had seen. Jezebel or whatever her name was had suffered greatly and had a problem.

She was insane.

Then, time told her over and over again that everything she believed in was as wrong as it could be. She couldn’t be more wrong if her head was on backwards…

She wielded the ax once again but with twice the attitude.

“
Time to die, time to turn to dust, my fellow time travelers
…”

“What will you do to the unnamed species?” Harold asked her.

“
Kill it into a thousand pieces
…”

I looked at the unnamed species; the sounds of the life support equipment were all familiar. He or it looked the same as always. The steam that came out rose like it did on any other day in this hidden cave. Then I noticed something shocking. The top of its head had been deeply cut. It was astonishing that it didn’t spring to life or merely die. A part of its brain was exposed. The witch must have started in on it before attempting to kill us, I thought. It looked like she tried to scalp it!

She knocked me over with what must have been the strength of ten ordinary men. Then she stepped on me, her naked foot walking harshly over my face, and she grabbed Harold. I tried not to think about my face. The foul smell of her naked body almost made me wish she would cut off my head again. She stank of rotten apples and rotting flesh like some demon from a fairy tale.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Harold shouted.

She smiled. She hissed.

“Go to hell,” I said.

“
Heads up… heads off
…”

“
Heads up… heads off
…”

“
Heads up… heads off
…”

“I don’t think that you’re going to be able to kill this damned thing. It’s too big.”

She paused.

“It’s too damn big,” I said.

“
Heads up… heads off
…”

“You can’t do it,” I repeated.

“
I’ll kill it to pieces
…”

That’s what I was hoping she would say, I thought.

“
First, I’ll kill him and you may watch. Sorry, you didn’t get to see mommy and daddy die
…”

I controlled my emotions and that was not an easy thing to do.

“
Then you can stick around and watch me cut it to pieces
…”

“I think not,” I said.

“
You have no choice, Andrew
…”

It was bone chilling to hear the thing that time perverted call my name in its demonically possessed sounding voice.

“You really mean to kill it?” I asked, dryly.

“
Yes, I will kill it and torture it mercilessly first!
”

She sounded like she found me tiresome. Then to my sheer horror her grip on my great grandfather’s throat doubled in strength.

“Oh, God!” he screamed.

“
Perhaps I should feed you to it first… then I will inflict pain upon this damned creature that will be so cruel it will be legendary
…”

She gave me what I had hoped for. My chances were slim to none and slim just left town. Then her chances for survival diminished considerably. The horrible noise, the unspeakable noise of the unnamed species we heard… It was right behind her.

“
What?
”

The old man fell down. I rushed to get him and she picked us both up and threw us damn near half way across the cave.

“Look, Andrew…”

The beast was alive again. The wires and instruments came off rapidly, almost looking like they were melting off of its enormous body; the equipment came off with such great ease.

The prehistoric monster opened up its gigantic mouth and crawled forward to her. Harold and I barely had time to catch a single breath before it slivered up like a snake and bit her arm off.

“Arms up… arms off,” Harold whispered.

The she devil might still kill us, I thought. She wouldn’t be doing it with an axe now. It ate the arm holding the sharp instrument that was in her hand a mere moment ago.

“Look at her, Harold.”

“Yes, Andrew.”

It was more likely now that this other thing, this prehistoric creature; the travel bug would kill us.

“We need to get the hell out of here, Andrew…”

“Agreed,” I answered.

The Rapture woman stared at the travel bug. The unnamed species sort of froze up again. Its mouth was no longer moving.

The bug had eaten her entire arm. She backed away slowly, in shock, but the prehistoric beast looked like it was drifting back into a coma. A natural hibernation, this time, it would appear.

We seized this moment; it was like a gift from God above. The elevator was right across from us. We went for it.

The witch was now at a fairly safe distance from the unnamed species.

She looked at her stump. Her face turned from shock to an expression of rage I had never seen.

“We need to keep going,” Harold said.

I had to help my great grandfather walk. The witch hurt his leg when he was thrown across the cave with me. For the first time in my life I could really say my head was screwed on right.

“Yes,” I answered him.

“You might have to let me go, I’m dead weight,” Harold said.

“Never,” I said.

We made our way across the cave, slowly, very slowly walking on.

“
Don’t go anywhere my boys, I’m not nearly done playing with you
…”

I made the stupid mistake of looking behind us. Her eyes were black, her hair was gray. Some disgusting part of me glanced down to see if the drapes matched the carpet. Her hair was gray there, too, right below her stomach. It was obvious that her flesh was decomposing.

“My God, the stench,” Harold said.

“I know, Harold, walk faster.”

I could see my great grandfather look back now. He wasn’t looking at her. The well kept family secret was what he glanced at. I couldn’t help but to take a look myself. It looked dead, comatose at best.

“
We’re not done yet, boys
…”

Once she got hold of us with that one good arm she had left, she would not be done with us until the cave was filled with screams of unspeakable pain and despair. I almost felt myself screaming already, my mind and body filled with such dread.

“
I know where you think you’re going.
”

“Leave us alone,” Harold cried, hysterically.

The she devil laughed.

“
Stop now and perhaps I will kill you quickly
…”

We walked faster; Harold began to whimper with pain.

“
I know where you’re going
…”

We moved on, even faster.

“No, stop, please,” she said, sounding like a fairy tale witch.

Harold pushed it to maximum capacity. He let out screams of pain but showed no signs of slowing down.

“This story is almost over,” she said. Harold and I realized the horror of it all now. She was right behind us. How did she catch up to us so fast? She could kill us easily now. The witch was now literally at arm’s length.

“
Enough games now. We won’t even be sharing that elevator, gentleman
…”

“No?” I asked fearfully.

“
You die now
…”

“It’s hidden!” Harold shouted.

“What?” She asked.

“This!”

I screamed out loud. Harold had another card to play. He pulled a knife, smaller than her axe but equally sharp from his back pocket. I screamed again. The old man wielded it with all his might. He swung it at her face. She tried to block it but forgot that a stump would not block what an arm probably would.

“You’ll die!” she screamed.

Her scream sounded like the gates of hell were opened for mortal ears to hear for one brief moment.

“Move it, Andrew!”

I was paralyzed with fear for some time, I simply couldn’t move. Harold had struck her with the wrath of God. I felt myself feeling sorry again, for this thing, this monster that had once been a woman who killed my parents. Harold had used the knife well. He had slashed out both of her eyes.

“She can’t see now, move it!” he screamed.

We staggered on, as quickly as we could towards the elevator…

“
Hell itself will envy what I will do
…”

Harold stopped.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.

“Do you…” He paused. “Do you…” Harold was out of breath and I could almost hear his heart pounding. “Do you intend to kill the unnamed species, to kill it as well?”

She stood silent.

“Do you?” he repeated.

She hissed.

“If it’s not dead, then surely you can kill it!”

She snarled.

“It ate your arm,” he said, flatly.

There was no response from her…

“Harold, she has no eyes, why would she attack that thing?”

Now the witch screamed a most foul, horrible cry of agony. Yellow vomit went flying out of her mouth. It wasn’t a little; it was a lot, gallons of foul yellow vomit sprayed. A few drops hit my brow.

“For God’s sake, Harold, we need to get to the elevator.”

“Not yet,” he said calmly.

What was he waiting for?

“Soon, Andrew but not yet,” he said.

Then the truth came to me, almost like a revelation. She was…… afraid…

We looked at one another, Harold and me.

“Let’s go for it!” Harold shouted.