KUSHTAKA: The Legend of the Bay of Death part two Chapter five

As they get wrapped up in the gold deeper and deeper they have no idea that the One who is Many has them right where he wants. Stick with me through,

Chapter Five

“What, does it piss rain 24, 7 around these parts?” Jack asks come morning, Breaker nods,
“This is the rain forest.” Breaker explains,
“Well, don’t it need sun too?” He asks and they all laugh.
They go about their morning business mostly in silence, while packing their own bags and supplies getting ready for the hike back in. Kelly handles the explosives, as they are his baby, they are his responsibility. And so it is up to the rest of the others, to split up the remaining gear, and the beer. They eat breakfast, bullshitting away as usual; Breaker and Jack are at it again, arguing,
“Bull-shit!” Jack is saying, “If it wasn’t for the oil industry, we wouldn’t have the permanent fund.”
“And if the oil companies were paying us what they should, we would all be as rich as Saudi’s. All Alaskans would be millionaires, but that isn’t and the worst part. Not only are they raping the North Slope for trillions, they are destroying the water table, and the environment. And they won’t pay a single dime in reparations remember, just like you said, I will fuck you like Exxon.”
“Oh, is that where all this is coming from, just because you didn’t get any of that reparation money?”
“Nobody did asshole,”
“Bullshit I read that checks were sent out.”
“That’s true, but it was a fraction of what it should have been, but just what they’re doing is even worse.” Breaker says.
“And what’s that?” Jack bites.
“Look, it doesn’t take a Ph.D. to know, that if you let the pressure out of a bicycle tire, it deflates and sinks down, if you release the pressure off the tectonic plates of the earth, they settle, and go down as well, its estimated that there is at least one earthquake a day here in Alaska. Coincidence, I think not?”
“Oh fuck you.” Jack says, “They have been pumping pressurized sea water in the wells, for years now, and that’ll keep pressure on your precious, tectonic plates.”
“Come on,” Breaker says, “what, would you empty all the oil out of your car engine and replace it with salt water and go driving around?”
“Fuck, that isn’t even remotely similar.”
“And why not, the earth needs lubrication too.”
“Dude, it sounds like you need lubrication.” They all laugh hysterically, and Breaker shrugs and continues to eat his breakfast, unamused,
“Go ahead, laugh, were all going to die.”
“Shit skipper, we’re all going to die anyway.” Kelly says in condolence.
“Yeah,” Jace says smiling, “maybe sooner than we think.” Breaker laughs,
“Well that peps me up a bit.” Breaker must say, and they all laugh with him. After breakfast they don their rain gear and load the scow quickly, all of them lost in their own thoughts of personal glory. On the beach, they plod along through the rain in silence, using only hand and eye commands. They are getting used to their pecking order, and the rain actually lets up a bit, as they near camp. They haven’t seen or heard anything through the thick rain, but none of them give it much thought, they are getting used to the eerie silence of this place. They all shed their rain gear and climb up to the hammock upon arrival, to get under the tarp, and dry off a bit. Have a beer and smoke. Walter loads the bowl and offers it to Breaker,
“Smoke with me?” He asks. Breaker smiles and reaches out and Walter hands the pipe and lighter to him and says, “You been pretty quiet lately, what’s going on?” Everyone listens in. Breaker merely smiles and lights the pipe. He passes it to Kelly and leans back, exhaling, he coughs and takes the beer Walter hands him, and he cracks it open and drinks from it, then burps out a cloud of smoke. They all laugh in unison.
Good times. A-gain.
“Are you boys ready to get rich?” He asks them finally, and naturally they smile and nod and agree you’re fucking a, we are! “Then we play this thing real smart, we do it my way. We stick together, teams of two, at minimum; no one will ever be alone on this trip, ever, do you all got that?” They all agree in seriousness. “Good, then, let’s eat a bit, smoke, and then we go do some blasting!” He raises his beer. The others join him, and they drink and laugh as the rain continues pissing down, like it has nothing better to do.
Breaker unwraps a bundle to reveal his twin katanas, he unties them carefully and straps the sheathes to his back pack,
“Brought the pig stickers hunh?” Jace asks, Breaker nods and Jace shakes his head as if to ask why,
“I haven’t been working out much,” Breaker answers, “thought I might do a little slice and dice on some of the local scrub.”
“By that, do you mean some of the local, little men?”
“You shouldn’t speak to them in the woods.”
“Why, afraid I might chum ‘em up?” Jace slaps him on the arm, Breaker smiles and looks skyward, laughing and shrugging. Jace has the initial impulse to laugh, but suddenly he doesn’t feel like it. Now it’s his turn to glance around, his hackles sticking up the bit. Breaker says nothing and starts loading his pack,
“Okay lads, time to lock and load.” And with that simple order they begin the next phase of this trip. Get the gold out of the mountain phase. Get out safely will be next, and final phase. They finish loading their bags, and scramble down from the hammock donning their rain gear again, and take off through the rain, on the same trail that they had taken in the day before, and they take a break at the same place the Jack had crapped out the day before as well, he flops down in the same spot and you guessed it out comes his pipe. But this time he draws out his poker, to clean the pipe stem, complaining that he can’t get a proper hit. Afterwards he loads the bowl carefully, painstakingly keeping it dry in the deluge, and he lights it, smoke billowing from his mouth,
“Oh hell yeah,” He says and falls into a coughing fit. The others laugh and Jace takes the pipe from him, to smoke with the others. When his choking fit subsides, Jack draws a beer from his pack. He opens it shakily and drinks,
“Yo! You got one of those for me?” Kelly asks, and soon Jack is passing them all around, “Jesus is that all you pack?”
“Pretty much,” Walter answers and they all laughed again. What a bunch of yay-hoos we are. Breaker thinks to himself, fucked up from moment one! He vaguely wonders why that is, he used to only smoke the weed in ceremony and drink on rare occasion, well, semi-rare, I mean at least not regularly, maybe it is some type of defense mechanism . . . Now why had the thought of that? It seems pretty inappropriate. Oh well, he hits the pipe and passes it on. They talk and lounge in the semi-dryness of the huge trees they are sitting under, laughing and joking and finishing their beers, then they crush the cans and load them in a small bag and Jack puts them in his pack and they’re off once again, through the soggy forest, their boots squishing in the mud, this time they don’t stop until they are back on the site. And can you believe it? The rain actually slows down to just a misty fog, pleasant, but eerie. But isn’t that just what these boys are looking for. Yeah, that and a shed load of gold.
At the site, Breaker and Jace quickly go about rigging the line and tackle and Kelly straps on the harness, as demolition expert he’d be going over to set up some charges. They snap a safety line onto his harness and he smiles at them, and then bolts to the edge, and swings out over the chasm, and right into the crack, showing off his mountain climbing skills. The others watch and then they go to work, the others get the other harness, for the gold, ready.
Inside the cave, Kelly straps on his headlamp and starts surveying the cave walls. Moving around and surveying every inch of them, He can see that they have been scarred by previous attempts to remove the gold, with what he can only guess, is crude hand tools; he imagines pickaxes and the like. He comes to a weak spot that seems discolored; He looks closer, and discovers a human fingernail wedged in the wall. He pulls away and turns back to the cave opening to stick his head out, calling to Breaker,
“Hey,” He calls out to the others, who answer back immediately. “You know that this shit has been dug at before?” He asks,
“Yeah, I noticed that. I could literally see the claw marks on the walls.” Breaker answers.
“Me too,” He says, and then ducks back in the cave to go back to work with the explosives, Jace and Jack look at Breaker,
“There have been many accounts of people finding gold in this area, for years now. We can’t possibly be the only ones to have found this place. Remember, the strangest story ever told, they were very close to this place, they may have even seen it. And I’m sure someone must have found it”
“Yeah, but why didn’t they clean it out?” Jack asks. Jace shrugs,
“Maybe the devil men drove them out.” Jace says flatly, “That’s what they used to call them . . . devil men.”
“So where are they now, these devil men?” Jack again,
“Who gives a fuck!?” Breaker interjects, “Just as long as they aren’t here now. So get back to work, and we’ll get the fuck out of here before they find out, now.” They all agree in unison. Walter pulls Breaker aside,
“Do you really think they are gone?” He asks looking him in the eye seriously,
“Hell no,” Breaker looks around conspiratorially and so does Jack, “They’re all around is even now, watching us, patiently biding their time . . . and lurking in the trees, waiting, for the time, to strike!” He grabs Walter suddenly who jumps and cries out,
“Man, fuck you!” He yells at him, breaking away. “That is not fucking cool man.”
“I’m sorry, man, just quit thinking about them, and they’ll quit thinking about you, okay?” Breaker says in all seriousness, and Walter nods and pulls out a cigarette and lights it before it gets wet. They stand about in silence, waiting for Kelly, lost in their own thoughts, until,
“Okay!” Kelly calls from the crack. “I’m ready to come back.” They draw in the slack on his line. He pops out on to the cliff side, on the opposite side of the crack, running away from them to build some momentum for the swing back, and then he runs back towards them and jumps out over the abyss swinging back over to them professionally, to grab a hold of them as he lands at the wayside, and they pull him in, un-strapping him quickly and they look at him, He starts talking,
“I just set up a small blast this time, just to see how the cave, and the mountain will take it, we should probably step back a bit.” They all follow suit, and soon, “Remote detonator.” Kelly shows them, he arms it. “Fire in the hole,” He says flatly and then flips a switch, and,
a small explosion rocks the hillside slightly, and they watch a couple small avalanches along the face, nothing spectacular, pretty anti-climactic all in all. Kelly looks at Breaker,
“Join me this time?” He asks,
“Don’t mind if I do,” Breaker is already harnessed up, but Kelly takes the first swing out. Breaker is soon to follow and they are inside the cave. The floor is littered with debris,
“Not bad,” Kelly says, from his squatting position examining the rocks on the floor, “Not bad at all for a minor blast, let’s set up a major one.” Breaker agrees quickly and they go back to work.
It is several hours later, before they re-emerge from the cave and swing back over to ledge. This time Kelly suggests that they walk out, farther away this time, to the clearing, before detonating this blast. So they do, and the major blast, though somewhat louder than the minor, is just as uneventful as the first. This time they send Jack and Jace out to cave, to load the pack harness with gold. They can scarce deny them, so Walter and Jace take their harness’ and Breaker and Kelly get a much needed bite to eat. It isn’t long and Jace and Jack are looking through the broken rocks within the cave, and hammering out chunks of raw gold from them, giggling like schoolgirls, it’s just too much. They spend the rest of the day extracting what they have loosed from the cave walls, all working uncomplainingly. They are now rich men, for the moment.
The end of the day finds them exhausted and dragging their asses back to camp. They had stashed most of the gold on the site, and only carry with them what they can, back to camp. They will bury it here, until they’re ready to start packing it out to the boat. Then they can stake their claim, and continue working the cave for the rest of the summer. Though they are tired when they arrive, they go about their appointed tasks with newfound energy. Jace and Kelly dig a hole for the gold, Walter is purifying water and Breaker is cooking up some venison stew that he had brought with them from the boat. It smells maddeningly good. Hell, life is good.
*
One who is many will not let his anger overcome his iron resolve. The newcomers have found a way to keep their thoughts as masked as the clouded one himself. And their thoughts are constantly hidden from him now, no matter. For the others had found their own messengers, they see them, as huge gold nuggets, just, as we have all, first perceived the idols. With all of his messengers in place, One who is many knows exactly where they are, and where they will be, and exactly what they will be doing, even while they are doing it. Through prayer and fasting and drinking of the seawater, his powers are peaking, and he exercises total control over his tribe now. On the upcoming blood Moon, his powers will take a quantum leap forward. Soon he will let loose the tribe, and take the newcomers, after they have exhausted themselves digging out his treasure. And then he will simply sacrifice them to the pit. And taking the marked one’s body, he will escape this hell, and come out, into the outside world. He can feel the pit throb with earth power. He mentally orders the tribe to start digging. For One had it covered ages ago, to keep its power hidden from the outside world, as well as the tribe. But tonight will begin his great campaign, after tomorrow, he will make his presence known to the outside world, and begin, its assimilation. He extends his mental grip over the tribe. They strain against his control, like a mad dog against it’s master’s chain, their lust, to rush out and enter the minds of the newcomers and drive them mad, is working them into a lather. But they could do naught against One’s will, so strong is his control. One who is many grins, but is not aware of it.
*
Jace is already nodded out by the time the moon rises over the hills. The night has cleared up considerably, the rain is intermittent, and the moon actually breaks out through clear sky at times. He notices it and becomes fully awake for a moment. He looks out at it admiringly, the moon is nearly full, and huge, a deep yellowish orange color, being magnified by the atmosphere, along the curve of the earth, it acting as a lens. He wonders what it might look like if it were blood red. Like the Bible predicted it would look in the end of times. Would he be alive, then? Would he see it? He shrugs and rolls over on his side, and after a few moments, as if on cue, he is fast asleep.
Morning finds them all waking easily, they had slept soundly, with visions of sugar plums in their heads, golden sugarplums. They breakfast on cereal and can beer, as everything is prepped and ready for the day, which is only raining slightly. As they finish eating Jace looks at Breaker thoughtfully,
“So,” he asks, “how are we going to get this stuff out, to the boat, that is?”
“I got a few ideas on that already, don’t you worry,” he answers quickly. “Let’s just get it out of the rock first.” He smiles and so does Jace, fully confident that Breaker has everything covered. He has totally forgotten about the idol, but that is its plan, he also can’t feel the lump in his pocket. The idol had crawled out of Breaker’s pocket and into his while they slept last night, and now it waited. It waited until it would take Jace’s mind back, soon.
Just as Jace is unaware, so is Kelly and Jack unaware, that their newfound good luck charms, are also idols, gold nuggets that have kept their true forms hidden from their waking eyes. This is how the One who is many can keep perfect track of them. This is how he will strike and beguile their minds.
The boys start off to the site oblivious of the fact that their fate awaits them, with sharp, pointed teeth.
*
One who is many’s body sits in his sweat lodge, but his awareness is high above them, the tribe quietly tittering under his mental control. He looks down from his high spot on the other plane of existence, to this world, our world. He exercises his mental control over the huge orgy of Land otters that even now crawl one over each other, in the Den. In a small clearing, just up from the site, where the boys have found their gold. This, vast tribe of otters are very important to One’s plan. For they are the physical counterparts to every member of his tribe, when he finally looses them they will each enter an otter, becoming physical and then they can translate through the land, and change into whatever forms they desire. Most likely the small, cramped, hideous, cannibalistic forms they had possessed in their former lives, their residual self image. And then the battle will begin. One who is many only wishes he could take the form that he see’s himself as, in his mind’s eye. Instead of the hated form he is now stuck in.
So very soon, now, it will begin. He smiles so fiercely blood drips from his lips.
*
They find the day starts just like the previous one, rainy, uneventful and profitable. The gold seems to fall out of the cavern walls into their hands, it is far too easy. They work, smoke, work, eat, work, drink, then it starts all over again, not necessarily in that order. What a system! Remember, no money down, you can make lotsa $, yeah. As the day draws to a close, they realize that the excavation will be done sooner than expected, and they can work on the task of packing it out. Breaker explains his idea, he points down to the gorge below them,
“We’ll lower it down with the block and tackle, and then rig a couple litters and haul it out,” he explains, “Shouldn’t take more than a week or so, I figure, as long as we stay hard at it, and, if we keep it quiet enough, we can be in and out without ever even having to stake a claim.”
“Beautiful,” Jace says, and they all agree. They load up what they can carry out today and get ready to start the hike back to camp, the rain is slow and the woods seem quiet, extra quiet. Like everyday. This place is creepy as hell.
“Be happy.” Breaker tells them all as they don their packs wearily, “Soon you start your new lives as rich men.” Breaker says, motioning them forward,
“Maybe I can buy some new legs.” Jack says and they laugh again. The rain stops suddenly and they look at each other. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jack smiles.
“Hey.” Kelly says, “Don’t jinx it now.” He snaps a finger to his lips.
“Whatever.” Jack mutters to himself.
Jace takes point this time, then Kelly, Jack, and Breaker brings up the rear. As they leave the site and cut through the clearing, the skies seemed to darken unnaturally, and the quietness becomes so thorough, it’s as though they are underwater. The tension grows so thick, it seems tangible. Breaker’s hackles stand on end, his neck and arm hairs standing straight up. He stops and turns slowly around. In the gloom he can see scores of red eyes glowering at him as the brush becomes alive with teeming, bristling life. They are everywhere. And they are looking right at him. He whirls around, and the others are staring back at him wide-eyed and gape-mouthed, at the scene, of obscenity given life.
“Run you fucks!” Breaker tries to shout, his voice scarcely a whisper. This breaks the spell, and they all turn, to hasten through the pass and down the ridge. Breaker glances back as he starts to follow them, suddenly he freezes. He does a double-take, and his jaw drops, he can’t believe his eyes. The teeming tribe seems to become nonexistent, as his eyes focus back to the far end of the clearing, to the two figures he can see at its end, bound together.
His wife and son! Marla and Nicky! My God, has this been their fate for the past year and a half? Captured and held captive by the Kushtaka? That is what they do! Kidnap people and assimilate them, into the tribe! He can feel the rush as his blood boils with rage. His pack falls to the ground, and his hands find and draw his swords as if, of their own accord. Time for battle now, and time for revenge. He shrieks his war cry and is among them like that of a berserker. They fall like wheat before the scythe.
Jace whirls and runs forward down the trail, his mind exploding, all he can hear is a myriad of shrieking, mocking, laughing, voices. And he knows these voices aren’t only in his head, now, his physical ears hear them as well. He glances behind himself and can see the others running with him. He clamps his hands over his ears and keeps going forward. He has to lead them out of here. He has to keep all of them running. He lowers his hands, they do nothing to stop the voices and he drops his useless pack. It skids off down the slope beside him, as he descends and he can care less about it, or the gold inside of it. They all cluster together at the pass to the ridge. Jace leads them through.
Kelly turns and jogs through the pass. At the narrow spot Jack bolts past, and bumps into him, and knocks him off balance, and he falls down the rockslide cursing.
Walter rushes to the narrow spot in the pass and glances back. He bumps into Kelly and throws himself off balance. He falls onto the rockslide, and he slides down it shrieking all the way.
Jace is still running and he can hear them behind him so he runs as fast as he can.
*
One who is many jerks upright in a sweat lodge back at the Village. He feels the slaughter on the ridge. Something is wrong, so he translates himself to the spot of the tribe’s battle. It is time to teach these newcomers a lesson in blood.
*
Breaker whirls through the tribe, swords flashing, dancing his deadly ballet, his blades singing their bloody song, a fatal duet. He spins and raises his blades high, and the tribe backs off, raising their pike-like spears, then, they attack him as one. Breaker spins his left hand sword to line his forearm and crouches under it in a classic sword stopping block. The tribe’s pikes clatter upon the flat of his blade, driving him further to the ground. All he can see are their legs. All lined up and ready to be cut down. He clenches his teeth and swings his free right hand with all his might, the sword slices through their legs like butter.
One who is many bursts onto the scene through the very ground he now stands upon. He immediately takes control of the minds of the tribe. As one they change.
Breakers mad slash is cut short, as the Kushtaka leg he is currently slicing through, turns to wood, and his sword sticks into it, lodging in it. He is now in the middle of a group of short, squat, deformed, misshapen little trees that resemble the creatures that they were just moments before. It all becomes clear to him. The Kushtaka had transformed themselves into scrub trees. He jerks his sword free and recoils from them, and before his very eyes, they regain their human-like forms and melt into the ground. At the end of the clearing is the squat, cloaked figure, that he had glimpsed in his sweat lodge, and it holds a knife in each hand, poised over the throats of his loved ones as they kneel on either side of him. Breaker freezes, and One who is many’s grin widens completely.
Checkmate.
The One who is many screams,” Enough!” in his mind, and therefore, in the mind’s of all the tribe members. They subside immediately, “To the others!” He commands them, “Take them down with deception, and then, bring them to the pit, and I will handle this one.” They melt into the ground leaving their fallen comrades where they have dropped. They will return for their meat later. After they have cleared the field and One who is many has his opponents undivided attention, he grins at the one he has named Strong heart, then he slashes open wide the throats, of the ones he loves. Breaker screams.
“No!”

Kelly tumbles down the rockslide, until he comes to an abrupt halt, at the bottom and uncurls himself and checks his limbs for damage. They feel intact and unbroken. He stands and looks back up the slide. Walter is making his way down towards him,
“Holy shit I thought I lost you.” Kelly calls to him, Walter merely grins nervously. Kelly beckons him to hurry and follow him.
Walter slides down the scree trying to gain control of his body, then, weightlessness. He crashes of the ground next to someone. He shakes the stars from his head to clear his vision. Kelly pulls him to his feet,
“Come on,” he says, “we gotta help the others.” And he starts running, Walter follows him unhesitatingly.
Jace glances back, and can see that his friends, and his brother, are hot at his heels,
“Run!” Breaker urges him, and he turns and runs and runs, ever faster and faster, until he runs so fast is nearing the camp and can no longer hear them behind him. He stops abruptly and whirls around, feeling like Forrest Gump. He is alone.” Oh my God,” He whispers and drops to his knees, winded and exhausted. The voices in his head howl with laughter, and his reality fades, to blackness.
Breaker screams in rage and charges forward. Big mistake, his training should have reminded him to leave emotion at the door. The cloaked one comes forward to meet him, and they circle each other, Breaker armed with the swords and his, yet undrawn and forgotten about, pistol. His opponent, apparently, barehanded, his daggers no longer in sight. Breaker lunges forward bringing his right sword down in the murderous blow. One who is many snorts derisively and reaches up casually, as if to catch Breaker’s blade with his bare hand. At the last possible instant, he turns into a small, scrub tree, and Breaker’s sword thumps into it with the jolt, which loosens his grip. One who is many reverts to his flesh form, his tiny hand wrapped around the sword’s blade. He yanks it from Breaker’s loose grasp, flinging it into the woods. Breaker jumps back and stabs at him with his left sword, quickly. One who is many lunges to the side and transforms into an otter and snaps out with its teeth to bite into Breakers wrist. Breaker yanks his hand back, and the otter bites onto the sword blade, jerking it out from his grip. It spins away changing back to the One who is many, and he faces Breaker with his own sword, in his tiny hand! Breaker draws his pistol, but One who is many is already slashing at it with the flat of the blade, he hits it along with Breaker’s fingers, knocking it from his hand. Breaker jumps back clutching his hand, and looks about uncertainly, for the first time, the first tendrils of panic, closing on his mind. His eyes survey the entire scene quickly, and then they rest on a gap in the trees, the very one he looked over, just days earlier. He remembers what is beyond them. The cliff, it is a good day to die. One who is many laughs out loud, cruelly, Breaker turns and looks at him, and incredibly, One speaks,
“Strong heart,” He calls to him, “Look to your family.” One who is many gestures towards his fallen wife and son, and he follows with his gaze. Slowly, their crumpled forms rise up from the ground, like eerie, blood-soaked, marionettes, being slowly drawn up by their strings. Their eyes open suddenly, and turn towards them and they grin at him hideously their arms reaching out beckoningly. Breaker stares at them enrapt. Then they slowly transform back to Kushtaka. Of course! They have the power to appear as loved ones, drawn directly from the memories of your minds eye! Breaker shudders . . . and then he turns, and he runs, and he dives right off the cliff, and he is gone!
One who is many deflates noticeably, he did not expect that. Curse their clouded minds. He translates to the spot where Strong Heart had jumped and he looks down.

Kelly runs along the mountainside leading Walter to the trail that leads back up the ridge, it takes a moment to recognize it, with the sun setting, it does looks a lot different. He glances up the other ridge, nothing. He looks back toward the camp,
“Come on,” he orders, “They must’ve gone by us already.” He states and runs down the trail that leads to camp.
“Wait!’ Walter shouts at him, Kelly turns to look at him, exasperated. Walter’s eyes burn into him for a moment, “Kelly,” Jack says slowly, deliberately. “Look.” He points and turns his gaze towards the back side of the hill. Kelly follows his line of sight and he can see someone in the distance, it looks like, Walter and himself? He blinks his eyes, and looks again, wait, it’s Breaker and Jace, and they’re running directly away from them with a horde of Devil men right on their heels! Kelly flinches from the site and Jack reiterates,
“We’ve got to help them.” Kelly snarls an oath in concurrence and runs after them. Walter watches him for a moment, smiling slowly, evilly, knowingly. Then he begins to follow Kelly.
After running a while with Kelly in the lead, Walter finally stops and cries out. “Kelly!” Who stops and turns irritated,
“What?” He asks,
“Isn’t this the wrong way?” Kelly merely smiles and points behind them,
“Anyway, away from them, is the right way.” Walter looks behind them, his eyes widen as he spots a horde of Kushtaka swarming towards them, each one clawing one over another if only to be the first to get at them.
“Heeg!” Walter starts and is sprinting after Kelly. He passes him and is on the way down the blind trail to the village, Kelly grins and follows.

One who is many stands at the Cliff’s edge and looks down. Strong heart has landed in a treetop, and is sliding down its branches, to the ground. Even now, the One can see him staggering to his feet on the steep Cliffside. He can also see from here, that the newcomer is weakened and shaken, and unarmed. He directs the tribe after him, and dives off the cliff into the form of a Raven. It is time to end this.

Jace lay on his back writhing as though in a seizure, his eyes white. His hands claw at his face and tear at his hair. He feels a sudden heat in his pocket burning him and he digs in it frantically, tearing it out and spilling forth its contents. The idol! It suddenly comes to life and he tries to get rid of it, but it hangs on to him, and begins scrambling up his arm like a golden spider. He shrieks and tears it off his arm and tries to throw it into the fire pit. It bites down on his palm, hanging on for dear life, Jace screams out in pain. He draws his pistol with a crazed look in his eyes, and shoves the barrel right up to the god dam thing clinging to his palm, flattening out his hand, and he pulls the trigger! The idol and two of his fingers, pinky and ring, blast free and tumble to the ground. Jace shrieks in pain, in tandem with the howling in his head, dropping the pistol, and he stumbles to the lake, clutching his half hand, and he takes a breath and dives into it headfirst.

Kelly is running and drawing his pistol, when he hears Walter fall, and cry out behind him. He spins around and runs back quickly to help with his fallen friend,
“What the fuck’s the matter with you?” He asks as he approaches and Walter just lies there face down, immobile. “Dude, get the fuck up!” He says and reaches down to yank Walter up by his jacket. Walter transforms into an otter jumping up quickly dodging his grasp, and sinking its razor-sharp teeth into Kelly’s hand. Kelly screams and levels his pistol at it, but before he can, it melts into the ground as though it never existed. The scene is momentarily still, until, from the earth springs obscene life, suddenly they are all around him, everywhere and nowhere, Kelly unloads the pistol around him, blasting great chunks of the earth free, but not hitting a single creature. As his pistol goes quiet, out of ammunition he ejects the clip attempting to reload it with another quickly, but they fall upon him in their powerful Kushtaka form biting and clubbing him unconscious.

Walter can hear gunfire ringing out all about them. It is difficult, for him to tell which direction, the shots originate from. He is exhausted, but Kelly just keeps plodding along ahead of him tirelessly, Walter glances back. Nothing, the Kushtaka are now gone.
“Kelly,” he cries out, “They’re gone, hold up a second, and let me catch my breath.” He sits down suddenly, and Kelly jogs back to him reluctantly. Walter speaks on, “I think, we should, head back, to . . .” he trails off as he looks at Kelly’s impassive face. He looks away from him and back at the ground, suddenly he straightens up and pulls his pipe out of his pocket, “I gotta smoke, man.” He says and extends the pipe and lighter towards Kelly, “Here, you light it.”
Kelly recoils in horror, reverting back to his Kushtaka form.
“I fuckin’ knew it!” Walter exclaims drawing and firing his pistol at the tiny horror, but the Kelly-thing has already melted into the ground, gone. And he is entirely alone, for just a moment. But before he can begin to worry, they spring up all around them, knocking his pistol free, and biting and clawing and clubbing him. He screams out loud and long. Then, silence reigns over the forest once more.

Breaker crashes down through the trees and hits the ground knocking the wind out of him, but retaining consciousness. He struggles to his feet aiming himself downhill and tries to run, staggering drunkenly. He trips and tumbles down the steep hill and slams into a tree trunk. He claws his way to his feet, as a spear and then another, sinks into the tree, just above his head. Before he can think, he is climbing them, using them to attain the lower branches, and scrabbling up the tree, and into the semi-cover of its foliage. He runs up the tree like it’s a ladder, having done this many times before, as he hears other missiles, ripping through the branches around him. He looks down, the Kushtaka are climbing over each other into the tree after him. He looks around; the steep bank is thick with trees below them. On impulse, he runs down a huge branch on the downhill side, and jumps out, to the trees below him, spreading his arms and legs wide, to catch as many branches as possible. It works, and he slides right through the first layer of limbs, and to the next layer, until he slows to a stop, and then scrambles through the branches to the trunk. He turns and looks out, and sets up for another dive, picking his tree and point of contact, and he is off, just like a regular ape men. Tarzan of the Kushtaka, he thinks to himself as he slams in to the next tree, hugging it fiercely. He glances back up the hill. The Kushtaka are sliding and tumbling after him, changing back and forth from otter to their deformed human-like form, apparently, enjoying the chase. He laughs with them, and climbs, ignoring the tiny scratches and abrasions that litter his arms, and hands, and face, he actually cries out a mock Tarzan like yell, as he runs the next branch, and jumps out, to a huge, old growth, spruce tree, just below him, on the steep bank. He is laughing as he clings to the huge fanlike branches, that he lands on, until he hears a loud snap, and he experiences a weightless feeling, as he plummets to the ground on his back, looking skyward, the lights flare up brilliant white, then they go out.

One who is many watches the downfall of Strong heart, from his lofty perch, with the sharp eyes, of the Raven. Good, it is done. The tribe will carry his captives to the Pit, for tonight’s orgy of sacrifice and feasting. The Blood Moon has come at long last. They will also recover the bodies of their fallen comrades, the many that Strong heart had slain, and gather the gold they have unearthed. As for the marked one, he laughs aloud, he will come home, all on his own. The One who is many takes wing, and flies back to his village, surveying the tribe’s progress along the way. Soon the blood Moon will rise, as well as his ascension to power. One who is many caws as he flies.
*
Lyselle and Terza sit on the back deck, of the high speed jet-boat, that Lyselle had chartered, unable to talk over the loud whine of the engine. The captain of the charter boat had been reluctant to leave town so late in the day when they spoke on the phone, but Lyselle had unbuttoned her shirt before they went into his office, then she had leaned across the counter, and just like that, they were on the way to the Legendary Bay of Death. Or Thomas Bay, as we call it now. Back on the dock before they left, Lyselle had to talk Terza into the trip as well, because she had gotten Breaker’s message that all was fine.
“Of course they will think that,” Lyselle had said, ”They don’t know they’re in danger.”
“Are they? Are they in danger?” Terza had asked.
“That’s the only thing I’m sure of.” Lyselle answered and convinced Terza with her eyes. At the boat, the Ladies allowed the injured Old Man, the shotgun seat, much to the disappointment of the Charter Skipper, until Lyselle had sat opposite him, behind the Old Man, to make sure he had a full eyeball.
And now they are apparently approaching Thomas bay, which has a very narrow mouth, so one has to be very careful, when passing through it, and you really need to time the tide if there is any weather at all. But tonight is calm, and the tide barely touches the high speed jet boat, but it is ripping, so the charter skipper cuts in towards the south point to avoid the tide eddy. But he doesn’t straighten out, and they continue plowing straight on towards the rocks.
Lyselle’s stomach jumps to her throat, as she looks back at the boat captain. He turns, to grin at her toothily, as he tears the steering wheel loose from the dash, and transforms into a Land otter, right before her eyes! Terza screams before she can, and the otter jumps over the side, as the jet boat is mere moments from piling up on the rocks.
“UP!” Old Brea’quaithe screams, and he mirrors Lyselle’s bug eyed look, as she looks at him bolting to her feet. But he’s already got her and Terza by the neck and he’s shoving them over the side with far more strength that she can ever give him credit for.
She feels weightless a moment before impact, then the world is torn apart and everything goes white.
The explosion is seen miles away.

Jace crawls out of the lake and stumbles to the camp as though in a trance, clutching his ruined hand to his chest. Back at camp, he finds a bandanna and ties it around his wounded left hand. Afterwards he begins to gather all the weaponry he can find. He will offer this to his new master, in hopes, it will appease him. Perhaps then he will let him live. He smiles vaguely strapping on Kelly’s backpack with the explosives, then, donning every rifle he can by the strap he starts down the trail towards the village, his new home. It is becoming increasingly darker, but he can see just fine, with the newfound night vision, of his glowing, red eyes. Part of his mind begins to vaguely wonder how all of this began and the answer is immediate. That fucking gold idol. But he can’t remember how he came in to possession of it, or more importantly, how it possessed him.
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KUSHTAKA: The Legend of the Bay of Death part two chapter four

Back to it finally, This time the boys do locate the motherload so it should be fun for all, by the way, if you haven’t read the beginning yet you should because I am going to start to delete the chapters as we go from here on for personal reasons. Happy reading, please comment follow and write something of your own.

Chapter Four
Breaker awakes with a start, he feels like shit, and his neck is cricked. Not only that but he reeks of a forest fire with an ass chaser. Where is his shower when he needs it? He looks around and realizes that they had all passed out around the fire last night right where they lie. It hadn’t rained last night (amazingly) so he never woke up. He focuses on the near empty tequila bottle next to the near dead fire, then beyond that, the sun is rising.
“Oh shit.” He croaks through his dry throat. He stands up and finds a water jug and chugs half of it in one shot, “Thank you Lord.” he whispers. Kelly and Jace are stirring, and Jack is still snoring loudly, totally out of it. Breaker smiles at Jace and hands him the water jug. He throws some wood on the fire and starts stroking it back to life. After getting it going he walks off from the camp to relieve himself. He stands looking up at the near full moon, hanging low in the western morning sky, now fully awake, and his vitality quickly returning. He admires Diana (the moon) openly, Breaker has always been in love with her, and she is his goddess. He pisses and prays at the same time, one of his many talents. After he buttons his pants and goes back to the camp,
“Morning boys,” He offers and Kelly and Jace nod back at him. Kelly stands and walks to the piss bush, but Jace just sits staring at the fire, still semi-comatose. Breaker puts the cast iron pan on the fire to heat it. He had pre-cooked potatoes to re-heat before cooking eggs for hot breakfast.
“Yo!” Breaker calls to Jace, “Wake your prison bitch, and get us a bowlful a hangover medicine, chop-chop.” Jace brushes the cobwebs away and smiles at him, and nods knowing full well whose bitch Jack is. Breaker makes a quick run down to the lake, to wash his hands before cooking, and for a fresh jug of water . . . But Kelly is already on the way back with one,
“You read my mind, dog.” Breaker says and Kelly nods,
“I figure we could all use a little bit of re-hydration.” Kelly smiles and Breaker agrees.
“I’ll be right back, bro.” Breaker says continuing down to the lake to wash his hands. After he returns and cooks breakfast for everyone, while they smoke bowl after bowl of Walter’s good weed. After eating, they all begin to move faster, packing their gear, as the gold fever begins to set in with a vengeance. They want to get this show on the road. Their conversation slows, and then downright stalls completely as Breaker puts away the food and the cookware. Kelly burns the paper plates and then he makes short work of the fire, as all good fishermen and hunters do. Then they start to prepare for their departure. Jace fumbles with his pack, while Walter finishes chewing his breakfast. Breaker and Kelly are locked and loaded in a matter of nanoseconds. They wait patiently. Then, Jack looks at Breaker solemnly,
“Hey, I just wanted to thank you, y’know, for bringing me out here and shit. It’s been . . . really great.” He smiles at his closest friend. Breaker smiles back,
“Don’t thank me that quick, we ain’t home free yet.” He answers cryptically, and then winks, in an attempt to alleviate the tension he just created. Walter Jack grins bleakly, nodding. Breaker changes tack with, “How much weed do you have left?” He asks.
“A shit-load!” Jack says and pulls out his Bob Marley tin, and starts to twist a fatty.
“Where’d you get it all?” Breaker asks.
“From B.” He answers still working, Breaker snorts knowingly and Jack shrugs, “From beneath my nuts dumb ass!” He cries out, and Jace laughs with him.
“That’s an old one.” Kelly says and finishes buttoning up the camp, he’s anxious to rock ‘n roll. Kelly rushes the dirty dishes down to the lake to rinse them off, and, as he works on them, something shiny, just under the surface of the water, keeps catching his eye. Finally he can’t help himself and he reaches into the lake and digs it out of the bottom. You guessed it, another gold nugget. He grins to himself. This place keeps getting better and better. He dries the nugget off on his shirt and puts it in his pocket. Now he’s got a new good luck charm. He finishes up the dishes and heads back to camp.
*
Jack finishes rolling the fatty to end all boombalatties, and looks up. Breaker and Jace are busy over at the hammock, and Kelly isn’t back from the lake yet. He smiles furtively, and pulls out the nugget that he had taken to carrying around in his pocket and admires its beauty. He is really beginning to like this place.
Breaker tosses Jace the last pack, and climbs down the rope ladder easily, dropping to the ground in a flip. Jace, not noticing his antics, looks to him quizzically,
“Y’ever notice the lack of wildlife in this place?” He asks, “Even the mosquitoes have thinned out.”
“We should consider ourselves lucky on that account,” Breaker replies nodding, Jace gives him his ‘I suppose’ look and Breaker grabs his shoulder, “I wouldn’t worry about it though, do that too much, you’re liable to chum up a bear.” Breaker shakes him lightly, and then smiles, “We should get going.” Jace nods and they go out to meet the others by the fire pit.
“Okay boys,” he says, “Pay very close attention to our route this time, this will be our, in and out so to speak from the site, from here on . . . I know we haven’t actually, located, the main vein yet, but I gotta admit, I got a really good feeling about this spot.” All of them agree, that good-time gold fever is coursing through their veins again, and feeling stronger than ever, and our heroes are really feeling it. They start hiking, and they follow the creek around for a bit. Then they branch off through the scrub-brush, to the ridge, and the game trail, that will lead them up the mountainside. Breaker never slows for a second; again he picks the path of least resistance, from years of experience, deer hunting throughout Southeast Alaska. His long legs eat up the trail as he moves along tirelessly. The space between them becomes further and further, until,
“Yo!” Jack calls out from the end of line, “Wait the fuck up, you mountain goat, motherfuckers!” They all halt in unison, and glance back towards the end. Jack can barely see Jace, much less Breaker in the lead, “I’m dying back here.”
They are all sweating pretty good, and pretty soggy, from the fog-like rain that surrounds them. Jack picks up the pace a little to try and catch up. Breaker drops his backpack and sits on a log, waiting for the others. Good enough place for rest, he figures. Jace is first up to him, and then Walter is in just before Kelly, who only lagged back because of Jack’s slow pace. He is still looking for something to shoot, of course, every time he thinks he sees something, it disappears all Houdini-like. Breaker is quiet as they arrive, he stands,
“Okay, let’s get it!” He says pretending to re-don his pack; Walter can only flip him off, as he crumbles to the ground, trying to regain his breath. They all laugh a little, then they sit back and drink some water and snack on trail mix. Breaker looks around with his binoculars, then, “Regardless of how we do today, two of us have to go back to the boat to get some more food and supplies and drop off what we found so far.”
“Why, just two of us,” Walter asks, “why can’t we all go? We could definitely carry more shit back.” Breaker shrugs,
“I don’t know, I really don’t want to get too much in here, I’d hate to have more than we can carry, when we head out.”
“We’d better have more than we can carry.” Jace says whooping, and all agree cheering and howling and high fiving themselves like self-appreciating assholes.
“Okay, we all go,” Breaker says, “We’ll pack out what we don’t need, and bring back, only what we can carry, cool?” And it is cool. Walter catches his breath and lights the joint he rolled this morning, and they have a smoke break. After they finish coughing, they continue on up the ridge. Soon they come to a spot where the trail cuts between two large boulder-like outcroppings, so narrow; they are forced to cut through in single file. After a few paces, the walls on either side fall away, into twin rockslides that go all the way down the mountain, to the bottom. Jack nudges Kelly as he looks down the eastern rockslide,
“Looks like you could slide all the way down this thing.” He comments.
“The same thing over here, this is definitely a non-natural formation” Kelly motions to the west, and Walter turns to look down his side, and nods in agreement, the mountain had slid away on both sides equally. Little do they know that this is the very landslide that wiped out the Kusaxa kwaan (cannibal) tribe hundreds of years ago. They keep moving on up, and after a bit they come out into an actual clearing, about 50 yards long and 10 yards wide, thick bushes on either side. Breaker walks over to the Westside of the ridge, that overlooks the descent, and he peers down, over a space in the scrub. The others come up beside him, and they look down with him, down the steep face littered with treetops,
“What’s up?” Jace asks, “You looking for a place to jump?” They all chuckle together, and Breaker points downward to the thick treetops,
“Actually, if you made it out far enough, you could grab those tree branches and ride them down.” Jace laughs as the others crack-up with him. They are way to laugh-y, aren’t they? Nobody laughs this much. It’s that god dam gold fever I tell you.
“Check it out,” Breaker points to the mineral bleed, maybe a quarter mile up, “Were almost home.” He says, they all grin in unison.
“Let’s do it!” Jack says excitedly, and they get moving, Jack’s excitement rippling through them all. As they cut to the clearing Jace looks around. This is a great place for an ambush. He thinks to himself. Then they are on the other side of the clearing and into the scrub again. It’s thick shit, and it’s slow going, but Breaker pulls out a machete and starts hacking away at it, even as he motions to Jace and the others to start clearing the shit away. After a few minutes he takes his jacket off and keeps on whacking away, until, they get through it a short while later, and they scramble up the nearly clean rock ridge, having cleared a trail, until they are at the same level as the crack. Remember, the crack in the cliff face that the mineral runoff originates from, the suspected hiding spot of the mother lode. It isn’t far away from where they stand, hell they can see it! But the cliff face is sheer, and un-climbable.
“It’s so close . . . yet so far.” Jace whispers. Breaker nods at him, smiling fakily. He looks up the ridge line above the crack, and drops his pack to the ground,
“No sweat,” He says, “I’ll climb up above it, drive in a few pitons, rig a block and tackle, and a safety line, and I’ll step in a harness, and you guys can swing me out to it, and we’ll see what we can see . . . sound good?” He says quickly enough that no one can interrupt him. They all react in different ways.
“Fuck,” Kelly says, “you’re the boss.” Jace looks at Jack,
“With the fuck are lookin’ at me for?” Walter says, “I’m gonna have a seat here.”
“I’ll climb with you.” Jace offers lowering his pack. Breaker smiles at him again.
“Cool,” He says, “everyone dig out what line you have.” Breaker orders and wipes the sweat off his face. They all go to their packs, and drink some water, then they toss all the coils of line they can find, on the ground at Breakers feet. Soon, he and Jace climb up the ridge above the crack until they are directly above it. There, they drive in several climbing pitons (metal stakes with fastening rings) into the rock face. Breaker rigs his climbing tackle to it and runs the line through it expertly. He straps in a rock testing it for position, and he’s dead on, as usual. He and Jace exchange smiles,
“So,” Jace says out of the blue, “You gonna tell the boys about your vendetta against the Kushtaka to free your dead wife and kid?” Breaker is taken aback momentarily with Jace’s earnestness,
“I don’t know,” He says honestly, “What, do you think?”
“Maybe we better keep that one to ourselves.” Jace says quickly. Breaker laughs, and Jace can’t help himself either.
And about a half hour or so later, Breaker and Jace are back down from the ridge and Breaker straps on his climbing harness then snaps on the end of the line and is ready to go, with the boys holding onto the other end.
“All right, my brothers,” He says, “Pull up the slack and hang on tight; I’m going to run out into the harness, and then swing out and grab it.”
“What? Grab what?” Jack of course.
“The crack, numb-nuts,” Kelly says, “Could you just, follow my lead?” Jack looks at him innocently,
“That’s all you gotta say dog, damn.” Kelly smiles, and Breaker looks at him. Kelly guides the others into place and pulls up the slack on Breaker’s line again. Satisfied, he looks back at the Skipper and making eye-contact with him, nods as if to say, good to go.
With that Breaker is off and running, and holding on to the line that leads above them to the pitons on the cliff-face, he bolts to the edge of the cliff and jumps out, off the ledge, and the boys pull back on their end holding him aloft over the chasm, and Breaker swings out, across the cliff face, and over the sheer drop. He arcs around professionally and comes to the cliff face right at the crack, stopping his momentum with a foot on either side of it, he motions to Kelly to lower him slowly, until he’s low enough, to step inside of it, and he disappears from the others sight.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Jace cries out. Momentarily Breaker’s head pops back out of the crack,
“Don’t worry, wart! I’m just going to look around a bit, I’ll be right back.” With that he disappears again. Inside the cave, we find Breaker, looking around in the gloom. He digs in his small pack for his flashlight when realizes that the cave is too small. Perhaps just as small, as the jail cell? A cell? He hiccups a single laugh and removes the flashlight from his pack, clicking it on and the cavern lights up. His heart stops, just for a moment, and then it hammers at his temples.
The walls of the cavern are made entirely of gold glowing like the light from Heaven! He swallows hard and swivels his gaze sure he must just be seeing things, and he follows the light, again he sees gold, all around, gold, gold, and more gold. His vision begins to tunnel; his breathing comes in short, ragged gasps. He drops to his knees slowly like a puppet with its strings cut, and he seems on the verge of passing out. No! His mind screams, not here, not now! You’ve got far too much work to do. His eyes refocus and he starts to look about the room. The walls are made of gold! It goes back as far as he can see, which isn’t really that far, but the enormity of the vein is still incredibly overwhelming. Breaker closes his eyes and lowers his head to cradle it in his hands. If what he is looking at is true, they are rich beyond their wildest dreams, and this will be the richest vein of gold ever discovered! Breaker slows his breathing and centers inside. He breathes slowly, in, and out, calming himself in a practiced motin. He stands and looks about at the riches around him, coolly, calmly. There are signs of crude excavation around them. Others have been here, he thinks immediately, many others, but they’re not here now. He reminds himself to breathe.
“Breaker?” Jace calls out to him from the clearing, seeming a million and one miles away, “Talk to me my brother, what’s up?” Inside the cave, Breaker looks down to the bottom of the cavern, there is a huge fist sized chunk of gold just lying there! He staggers towards it and ducks down to scoop it up of the caverns uneven floor, God dam, is it heavy! He tries to laugh, but he can’t, he’s all laughed out, it’s just too damn beautiful, it’s nearly solid gold! His eyes go back to the walls,
“Breaker?” Jace calls again. Breaker calms himself and shoves the rock in his sweat jacket pocket and tucks it into his harness for safety. He takes a few deep breaths and pops his head back out of the mouth of the crack,
“I’m okay just mellow out.” he says emotionlessly, “Now pull tight, I’m going to swing back around and over to you.” He feels the slack on the line go taught, and he runs out of the cave and away from the clearing and out, over the chasm, giving way to the harness, and his friends, in full trust with his life, they are right there with him, and he arcs out only slightly, to turn and land on the cliff face, a few yards on the other side of the crack from them, crab-walking a few steps to the side to build momentum. Then he reverse-belays back towards them, and kicks out at the crack, swinging expertly back to the clearing from whence he came. They catch him on the first try, and pull him in and unsnap his harness. Breaker squats and mops the sweat off his brow with his sleeve, covering the bulge in his shirt with his free hand casually. He looks at their expectant faces,
“So? What’s it like in there?” Jace asks, and the others nod expectantly. Breaker shakes his head negative,
“Don’t know,” He says like a Hollywood Tonto, “it was, dark, cold.” he digs into his pocket, “But, I found this, maybe it holds some sign.” He tosses it on the ground in front of them, Jace reaches out to catch it and almost knocks him over before he pulls his hand back, and it hits the ground with a thud. The others steady him. And at first they just stare at it, as the rain begins to fall faster now. No one can say anything, because it is so big, and so beautiful, and they don’t know whether to shit or go blind. Finally Jace breaks the paralysis and lunges forward to seize up the huge chunk of gold. Jace holds the rock up over his head, and it gleams in the daylight . . . Gold! Solid gold, they fall even more silent, gawking. Breaker starts the laughing, and suddenly they all roar into animated outcries of oaths and curses and holy shits! They rush over to Jace and hug him and they all fall over laughing.
So this is gold fever in full swing.
*
One who is many sits cross-legged in his sweat lodge. He has been fasting and meditating for days now. He needs every iota of his strength, and resolve, to control the rest of the Tribe. It takes every particle of his iron will to maintain control, and keep them from invading the minds of the newcomers. And the Full Moon is fast approaching. The Blood Moon. The time of the first crossover . . . when for one moment in time, their plane of existence will, crossover with ours, and if all goes to plan, One who is many will cross himself, and the Tribe over, to our plane of existence, permanently. He stifles the thought in his mind; he can’t risk the tribe finding out, as the blood lust would fall upon them. There would be no holding them back then, but he plans on taking the newcomers by that time. They will be his sacrifices, to the Blood Moon. He will lose some of his unwanted personalities with their hearts, which he will cast into the pit, and then he will strengthen the Tribe with their flesh, his Tribe. He extends his mental grasp over the Tribe and projects his mind out to the newcomers. They have found the gold vein, with his help, of course. It won’t be long now. He pulls his mental probe back to himself and closes his eyes, nodding and praying in forgotten tongues to his nameless Gods.
*
Jace stands inside the cave in awe. It is truly unbelievable; he just keeps turning around and around and around and around and everywhere he turns, he sees gold. He is the last one to traverse over, to look inside the treasure trove. Like the others, the first thing he realizes is, they will need the explosives to extract the gold. He feels a sudden urgency to get the show on the road, almost, like a feeling, that the clock is ticking. He goes back to the opening,
“All right, I’m coming back over.” He calls out to the others. Soon he joins them on the ridge, and they break down the block and tackle, and the line, and they get ready to leave. It isn’t long and they are on the way, the sticky rain hanging with them like a wet, foggy fart. They are all fully soaked through by now, but I don’t think any one of them cares, much. They double time it back to camp, all of them, once again lost in their individual thoughts, of grandeur.
The stupid fucking assholes.
Back at camp, they cook up most of the food, and they save some for a quick breakfast in the morning and then they drink last of the beer, and they smoke more weed, and go on and on about what they are going to do with their shares of the millions. It is a happy time for them all. One of their last.
Morning comes way earlier than ever it has, since the dawn of man, Jace thinks, as the sun hits his face, and they all wake, at the same time (impossibly) surprised, Jace is shocked that they could sleep at all, what, with all the excitement. Alcohol might have something to do with that. But, with all their physical exertions lately, it isn’t that unbelievable. Especially since they have been soaked to the bone since they started this fool’s errand, and hypothermia, might be a factor. Duh!
They eat, and drink water, quickly, then they sling on their mostly empty backpacks, and hustle back the way they came from the ‘Saltheart’, at an extraordinary pace, and they make it to the beach in half the time that it took them to hike in. Why? Because, when they left the boat, they could give a fuck about the world and everything in it, but now things are different. Now, they will be so rich, that, the world can only be, oh so much different to them. Their lives will never be the same that much, is certain.
When they arrive at the beach, the scow and outboard engine seem untouched. Breaker is impressed at their continuing good luck, and says as much.
“It’s un-be-fuckin-lieveble.” He says,
“What” Jace asks him.
“That we appear to be getting away with this bullshit.” Breakers smiles and the others laugh. They untie the boat and they carry it down to the water launching it at the deepest spot on the beach. They climb into it and head out to the other vessel, the ‘Saltheart’, which is still anchored quietly in the middle of the bay. The water is flat calm, and the light rain barely disturbs it. They pull up to the boat quietly, and climb aboard, tying off the scow. Breaker goes straight to the door and unlocks it, he enters and immediately fires up the propane heater, and they all begin to strip off their wet clothes. Kelly opens the refrigerator and hands out beers. Jack well, you guessed it, he loads another bowl. They sit about the table a bit drinking and smoking and talking, until Breaker sends Jack and Kelly up to the flying bridge to unlock the seat and get some food and beer out of the larger refrigerated compartment. When they are alone, Breaker grabs Jace,
“What’s up?” Jace asks, pretty well wasted and tired by now, he smiles stupidly and looks his brother in the eye. Breaker answers by holding up the idol. Jace recoils in horror and for a sickening moment, he can hear the echo of laughter in his head, but then it is gone, as though it never happened, like a half grasped memory that fades into nothingness. Jace relaxes and swallows hard,
“Holy shit, I almost forgot about that thing.” He lies quickly.
“Yeah right,” Breaker replies, “But not quite bro.”
“Jesus, could you get rid of that fucker?” He pushes his brother’s hands down so he doesn’t have to look at it.
“That’s right, that’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Breaker pauses for effect, “Get rid of the fucker.”
“How?” Jace asks in monotone.
“Uncle said something about, tossing it into the pit from where it came.” Breaker replies,
“Uncle? Pit? What the fuck are you babbling about?”
“The old Man at the hospital, the one with my name, he told me all about the legend of the Bay of death. The Kusaxa kwaan and the Kushtaka . . . and he mentioned some pit; I guess we’ll have to find it.” Breaker says unsure for the first time.
“You think?” Jace says sarcastically.
“Fuck you.” Breaker replies.
“Look, I still don’t know what you’re babbling about, some old man, a hospital, the Bay of fucking Death, again? Now, don’t tell me. It’s got to be this place, right?”
“Of course ass-hold, this is where you got the fucking thing isn’t it?” Breaker implies the idol. Jace nods lamely, “So this is where it goes back,” Breaker says, “Don’t you see? We toss this thing back in the pit and we take some gold home with us. It’s that simple.”
“You make it sound simple.” Jace laughs.
“Trust me little bro, I’ve got this handled.” Breaker hugs him suddenly and Jace hugs him back. Just then Walter and Kelly open the door from the back deck. There is a momentary silence, then,
“Oh . . . hey, you guys need a little time?” Walter says in his most homosexual voice.
“Fuck you.” Jace says breaking away from Breaker and pushing his way out on the deck. Breaker jumps up to grip Jack by the neck. Kelly looks away and follows Jace out, and he leaves Breaker to the disciplining. It isn’t a few moments and they join them on the deck to drink beer and smoke while Breaker calls Terza on Jack’s cell phone.
“So,” Walter can’t help himself, “how come we ain’t seen any of these Kushtaka fucks, you’re always on about?” Jace shrugs,
“Maybe we have.” He answers without missing a beat, “Remember those ravens that didn’t caw?”
“Yeah,” Kelly nods in agreement,” I never met a raven that didn’t talk.”
“That one did talk, it said, fuck.” Jack imitates the cawing sound on the last word.
“And maybe that otter that Breaker saw?” Jace throws in, and then in a Bela spooky tone, “They’re probably baiting us in . . .” he gestures with the Lugosi-like hand now, “Come to me, come my pretty.” He laughs theatrically, and Walter joins him, but Kelly merely smiles.
“All right shut the fuck up!” Walter cries out, throwing his lighter at him, Jace dodges and they all laugh again. Little did Jace know how close to the truth he is.
Breaker snaps Jack’s phone shut and turns back to the conversation,
“Okay boys, we spend the night here, and head out early in the morning.” All disagree.
“Oh man, what gives?” Kelly says,
“Yeah, what the fuck?” Walter exclaims,
“Dude?” Jace seems lost.
“Mellow your shit boys, the shower aboard works just fine and I intend we all use it. Besides we’ve got a lot to talk about, and we’ve got strategy to discuss.”
“Strategy?” Jace is lost,
“Man, who was on the phone, yo?” Walter looks at him. Kelly merely looks at him and nods agreement.
“I just left Terza a message.”
Breaker turns to walk back inside the boat and motions them all to follow. They gather conspiratorially around the galley table. Breaker speaks finally,
“Now, from everything I’ve gathered about this Kushtaka legend is that you shouldn’t speak about them in the woods. As that’ll chum him up, so we talk here, and we talk now, about everything any one of us knows about them, starting right from the very beginning . . . allow me.” Breaker leans his head back and begins reciting as if he’s done this many times before, “Now, Raven and Land Otter, were best friends, because Land Otter was such a skilled fishermen, and they are often seen halibut fishing together, you see Land Otter caught so many halibut, that Raven always had plenty to eat, and so Raven told him that he would make his home on a point that got plenty of breeze from both sides, and when people capsized in their canoes he would go out and save them and make them his friends, and that’s how Land Otter Man came to be. Spoken straight from the mouth of an elder, circa 1904, or so. Okay, what it means is that Land Otter Man lives between the realms of life and death, they can cross over into our world, and the next, but they can’t stay, they must return to their limbo like state. And those that join them at the point must stay there with them, in stasis. They can’t make the journey to the next world. They are neither good nor evil, just always assimilating into the tribe.”
“Holy shit,” Walter whispers. Kelly nods, Jace seems distant. Breaker smiles as he glances about at his friends, and he continues,
“This is something I’ve known since I was a child, but some of the modern natives used to say it was all just bogeyman story. Something to keep the kids from going into the woods at night, but some of us know better, and not long ago, I spoke with a native elder, who told me something I couldn’t have imagined, the Bay of death is real, as are the Kushtaka, they are the long dead spirits of over 500 tribal cannibals, killed at the same instant, they somehow melded with the Kushtaka legend, and formed an entirely new entity, something capable of coming into our world permanently, somehow. Don’t ask me how I know this, I just know it.” Breaker finishes his beer, the others follow suit. Breaker begins to roll one of those rare cigarettes, Kelly speaks first,
“You know one time I was hunting just south of here and some weird shit happened.”
“Yeah?” Jack asks, “Do tell.”
“Well, it was a trip; I had just got to the beach and tied my skiff up and decided I’d walked down the shore a bit and beach-comb before cutting into the woods. And all of a sudden, I realized it got real quiet.” He pauses for effect and a sip of beer, “Like totally dead quiet, and I heard it very distinctly, a voice said one word, it wasn’t a bird chirping, or a squirrel squeaking, it was a regular human voice, and it said one word . . . runaway!” After a moment, Walter says,
“That’s two words!”
“What?” Kelly says, and then, “Yeah, your right, but it didn’t say it like two words, like you better run away, it was more like, you would call a kid, a runaway.”
“So then what?” Walter asks,
“I ran the fuck away, what you think?” They all laugh and Kelly kills his beer and cracks another.
“Well, I got one for ya,” Jace speaks up, “This one happened years ago. Up around Baranof warm Springs, one winter, when we was crabbing up that way, and there was like a record snowfall, and the upper hot tub, was cut off by all of it, no one dared go up there for fear of falling into a snow sinkhole, but, I had gotten it in my head, that I wanted to go up there, and take a dip, maybe get high, so I literally clawed and crawled my way up through 30 plus feet of snow, just to kick it in the upper formation. Well, I forgot my contacts, and my glasses had fogged up repeatedly in the hot tub, so I set them off to the side in a safe place, amongst the rocks, so I could find them easily, later.”
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” Jack says.
“I used to wear glasses, Laser surgery.” Jace points at his eyes and continues talking,”Anyway, after a long soak, I realize that time was wearing thin, and I decide to leave. I reach up for my glasses, and they are gone! And then the pussy voice in my head says you’re fucked! But I discount it, and the rational voice in my head says, look for the path of least resistance, and I follow the natural gravity line down, where they may have settled in pool’s bottom. But I find nothing. I follow the gravity line back up, and then back down again, and up and down, over and over, until I start to feel like a vaudevillian actor in some ancient movie, and then the sane voice in my head says, relax, breathe.”
“How many fuckin’ voices you got in your head, yo?” Jack asks. And he and Kelly laugh, Jace joins them after a moment, as well as Breaker and after they sober,
“If I may continue?” Jace asks and Jack just smiles hugely, shrugging and Jace goes on, “As I was saying, the sane voice says, the sun is going down soon, you can stay here the night, or make a mad dash out, but I know, I ain’t goin’ no where without my glasses. Now I stand up, and the sane voice says, go to the farthest point, that you would least expect them to be, and that’s where you’ll find them. I laughed aloud. ‘Yeah, bull shit’ I had said to the voice in my head! Can you believe it? ‘Do it!’ The voice repeats in my skull. So, in order to humor it, I did just as it said. I walked out, to the farthest part of the natural rock tub, that had to reach at least fifteen feet across, and I reached down, into the floating miasma of minerals that blanket any movement in the baths, and I’ll be God damned. There they were, just like the voice had said, well, I wasted no time wondering how they got there and I put them on and I put on my clothes on and I make the snap decision right then and there, to run the fuck out of there as fast as I can. So as soon as I’m dressed, I scramble up the snow bank and back down my trail, the one I carved in to the snow on the way in, and I knew, that if I was to lose this trail, that I might not ever come out of here alive, no bullshit, so I stuck with it. And I wasn’t that far along, and my glasses had fogged up, so I had to take them off to wipe them clean. This happened repeatedly as I was trying to make my way out, until after I had just cleaned them again, and I looked down and the trail looked creepy, and I realized it wasn’t my trail at all. But what looked like cross between a deer and a moose trail, only the prints were too tightly knit, and there was a tail drag between them. The only thing I knew for sure is that it wasn’t my trail, and I’d better turn around and find my own trail or I’m gonna be fucked. And I did just that, and as I was clawing my way out of there, someone called my name,
“Jace,” They say, not that loud, not that quiet. Just, Jace. And I know right then and there, that I didn’t hear that to my ears, but only in my mind. And I turn to run, but I hesitate. I can’t help myself, I turn and whistle, remember how we used to locate each other when we’re kids by whistling?” He looks at Breaker, who nods in agreement, “Well I thought that someone might have come up looking for me or something, but as soon as I did it, I knew it was a mistake. But before I can let it have any more of my power. I turn and run, well, crawl, that is, crawl and scratch, and scrape my way the fuck out of there, by every means possible. I swear to Christ, I made deals with God, the Devil, and everyone in between, if only they just help me to get the fuck out of there. And I did make it out, of course, and I don’t know how, but I never turned back, and I’ve never thought of it again, until now. And I hope to never think of it again.” Jace crumples after his soliloquy, spent from his exertions. The silence stretches on,
“Well, I hate to be the one, to one up.” Breaker says, “But I want to tell you, I have a story, that I’ve never told anyone, anyone at all.” He pauses to drink, and for the words to sink in, then, “It was just a couple years ago, North end the Prince of Wales Island, deer hunting season is winding down, and I was on my final hunt of the season, and the funny thing is that this never would have happened, if it wasn’t for this, song, you see, I had met this chick in Ketchikan, who turned me on to this CD of her original music, labeled Trina’s home brews, incredible music if you like that, soulful acoustic guitar, beautiful voice type music, and there was this one song in particular, that I had been listening to the whole way out, and had this incredible guitar strum,” Breaker imitates it,” Ching-chinga-chinga-ching, chinga-ching-chinga-chinga-ching..”
“Hello?” Walter interjects,
“Right,” Breaker continues undaunted, “So having this song stuck in my head. I walk down the game trail, lost in it, and I just walk for miles, for hours maybe, just walking and singing along in my head, for so long that I lost track of time, until . . . I literally break out into song with her,” And Breaker sings the next line, “Surly eyes, so filled with promise . . .”
“Aren’t you supposed to be quiet when you’re hunting?” Kelly asks,
“Yes, of course, and that’s what I realize right then, that my hunt has gone to shit, and so’s I stop and I looks around, and I realize, that I’m lost,” Jack laughs out and Breaker smiles, “well not really lost, but stuck in the woods overnight, because no matter if I run down the trail as fast as I can, I won’t make it out, and so I turn around and there it was..”
“A Kushtaka?” Jack whispers,
“No,” Breaker continues, ”a deer dumb ass, it had followed me along for God knows how long, like he was my buddy, or something, but . . .” He motions to his arm, “ It shoots on its own anymore, and as soon as I did it, I knew it was a mistake, I would definitely never make it out before dark, by shooting the deer, I had elected to stay the night, in the woods. Well, I make short work of the deer by dressing it out quickly and lashing a line to its hind legs and tossing it over a branch and pulling it aloft, so it won’t have to spend the night on the ground. Then I use the last of the failing light to gather some firewood, and I hustle back down the trail with the armload of wood to this trilogy that I found, by that I mean three old-growth trees that originate from the same spot, but in different directions, a great place to make camp for the night. By the time I lay my wood down. I can’t see the hand before my face, it had gotten so dark now, unnaturally dark, and much too swiftly, something was going on here . . . well, first thing I do is dig in my pocket and find some matches. I draw one out, and as soon as I go to strike it, phew! sh-sh-sh-sh-shh something blows it out. Then it laughs at me.” The others react audibly, Jace nods and Breaker continues, “Then the next thing I think is that I imagined the whole thing. A freak gust of wind blew the match out, and I heard the laughter in my head. But the only thing that was concrete, in my mind, was the smell. I could smell its breath, and it was the most hideous thing I had ever smelled, I mean it was like a, rotting salmon carcass a bear shit out and it lay baking in the sun all day. But I dismiss it all from my mind, as imagination, and I strike another match, and . . . You guessed it, same thing happens, it blows it out and laughs, phew! sh-sh-sh-sh-shh, Just a little louder this time. So’s I draws out my pistol, and I say, quite slowly and deliberately out loud, I don’t know who you are, and why you keep blowing out my matches. But if you keep it up, I’m going to start shooting. And I set the pistol down on my lap, and I strike another match, and once again it blows it out and laughs, sh-sh-sh-sh-shh, so I raise the pistol up and fire, Blam!” Breaker acts it out as he speaks, “But at the last second, I realize that I didn’t want to murder somebody here in the woods tonight, in case it was just someone out here fucking with me. So I had tipped the barrel upward at the last second, and I can see his eyes in the muzzle flash. And that’s when I know I’m not alone.”
“Holy Shit!” Walter exclaims, the others agree,
“No shit!” Breaker continues once again, “Well I saw its eyes, just for a second before it takes off into the woods, to circle around me, but I don’t waste any time thinking about it. I just get the fire going as quickly as I can and as soon as I get it going I think about firing into the woods again, but just can’t make myself to do it because . . . those eyes . . . had looked so familiar. I know I’ve seen them before, just not in a long time . . .”
“What did they look like?” Walter again,
“Kinda . . . like . . . Mine.”
“Fuck you.” Jack whispers. Breaker nods again,
“So I keep that fire burning all night long and as soon as it’s light enough, I get the fuck out of there.”
“What about the deer?” Jace asks,
“I forgot about the deer.” Walter adds,
“So did I,” Breaker agrees, “But I remembered it at the last minute, and so I creep over to the tree where its at, still kind of paranoid, looking around for the Kushtaka, I swear I could still hear it laughing, so I cut the deer down, and just the by sound of it hitting the ground, I know something is wrong, it sounds too squishy, and it just takes one glance to know that that deer was no more, it had been slashed to ribbons. And I can really hear it laughing now, so I just run as fast as I can back down the trail and I have never been back there since.”
“So what does that tell us? About the Kushtaka, that is?”
“The eyes . . . they were my father’s eyes. I swear it!” Breaker whispers, Jace adds,
“They say the Kushtaka has the power to look inside your mind and see someone who you love and trust and appears that person to you.”
“You have got to be shittin’ me.” Walter exclaims, “So how the hell do we tell them apart, from us that is?”
“The Kushtaka despise metal . . .” Breaker says, “And they won’t take anything from you, just the thought of it, will make them revert back to their land otter form, so, if it appears as someone you know, and you know that person smokes cigarettes, offer them one, they won’t take it, they’ll just flee.” Breaker sips his beer and goes on, “More importantly, the Kushtaka usually only go after a single person in distress. Generally, somebody drowning in the water, and they’ll show up miraculously out of the fog and offer you their hand, appearing as someone you love and trust, you won’t realize they’ve been dead for years, you’ll just be so desperate for any type of rescue, that you’ll take anyone’s hand. And in that tiny omission, you’ve given them your power, and that’s the first step to assimilation into the tribe.”
“Fuck me dead.” Walter sighs.
“Well said, my friend.” Kelly speaks finally.
They continue drinking, talking and smoking until late in the night.
And the waxing moon rises, nearly full, just two days now, until, what One who is many refers to, as the Blood Moon, the first full moon after summer solstice, as the grand alignment approaches, the crossovers become more frequent, mostly during the full moon directly after solstice, Winter or Summer. Crossovers, from other dimensions.
And the Kushtaka aren’t the only ones, who cross.

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Kushtaka: The Legend of the Bay of Death part two chapter three

As you can see I’ve changed the spelling in the title due to popular demand and you should also notice that the chapters seem longer here in part two. The story is really picking up pace in the Bay of Death and more is being revealed about our creepy villain.

Chapter Three
Lyselle is pissed. Jace is absolutely unreachable and has been for too long now. She is sick of message AKG 43! Why hasn’t he called her? He must be fucking somebody, is her first response.
No. She won’t believe it. Don’t let your mind play tricks on you. Jace often tells her. She hates him. Yet she loves him. What’s a girl to do?
She calls Alaska airlines of course. She’s a rich bitch.
*
Terza goes through the motions of her last encounter with Breaker in her head. Its after the whole answering machine tape of his dead wife and child and the scene in his sweat hut. After the sex, she asks him,
“What do you want from life?”
“Now how can I answer that, I don’t even know what life is about.” He answers.
“Okay let me rephrase . . . what do you think, you want from life?”
“Clever.” He says, “Okay I’ll bite.” He looks her square in the eyes. “I want . . . a family.” He swallows hard and laughs, watering up like a schoolgirl bitch.
She cries again just thinking about it.
*
An hour later the boys complete their bed. They stand back admiring their handiwork. A gigantic stabilized hammock stretches between two trees about twenty feet up. With another line lashed across the same trees above it. They have a huge tarp stretched across that line covering the entire hammock. An access line descends from the middle of the incredibly simple structure, allowing a climber to ascend to the hammock and reach the edge to flip aboard. It’s so large that you don’t lay upon it like a conventional hammock end to end, but more like, from side to side. Many bunks stretched along its length so to speak, many stations. They have tied their gear to the web to cordon off their ‘bunks’.
“Safe from the bear,” Breaker says handing Jack his cigar, “But don’t worry about them, the Bear is my spirit guide. Expect no trouble from him.” Jack un-holsters his sidearm quick-draw like, and they all look at him,
“Like we’ve seen any wildlife?” Jack says sarcastically, speaking what all of them have felt from the moment they entered these woods. “I ain’t worried about no damn bear baby,” He gnaws his cigar Clint Eastwood style, “It’s the other things I’m worried about, them . . .”
“E-ch-ch-ch!” Breaker jumps in cutting him off decisively, “We try not to speak of them in the woods, yo.” He pauses for effect, “It chums ‘em up.” He gives him that ‘I know I told you’, look.
“And we know, you don’t want that,” Jace chimes in.
“Yer fuckin’ A!” Jack cries.
“Like anyone does,” Kelly adds, “Right?” Expectantly,
“Right!” Brae’quaithe agrees quickly. “We’re here for the gold!” He shouts raising his fist. “After that . . . we’re history.” He lowers his fist in an all for one.
They one for all him placing their hands upon his, like they are the musketeers or some shit. The stupid fucks.
Soon they are down at the bank of the lake, gathering water, for distillation and Jace and Walter are going at the shore with the metal detector. Breaker rolls his eyes to Kelly and they share a laugh.
Until Jace gets a signal, that is. SCREEE! The metal detector cries over the tiny onboard speaker.
“What the fuck?” Jack exclaims, “Go back!” SCREEE! Again, that thing sucks balls with its noise. But they think naught of it for the moment, for right now it seems like that, of the call of the Lord Himself. For the love of what it might signal.
GOLD. Jack drops down to his knees and scrabbles at the gravel-like beach digging with his hands. Kelly relieves him with a spade-like piece of wood until, clunk! He hits something.
He pulls back and Jack dives back in by hand and hits something cold, metallic. He raises his hand opening it, to reveal. A god dam gold fucking nugget!
“Ch-Yeah!” Jack cries out in disbelief, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
“Give me that!” Kelly snatches it from his hand and wipes it off looking at it intently. His wide eye return look is all they need to know,
And so the coyotes howl before dusk in these parts. At least tonight they do as the boys howl like lycanthropes in unison. Like there are any coyotes in Alaska. Well maybe one, but we call him Raven.
And he cries as if on cue. For real this time.
They stop howling at once, glancing about at each other, until all eyes on Breaker. He shrugs,
“An omen . . . or not, stupid fucking birds.” He says with no real conviction, and the try to nod agreement, avoiding each others eyes.
On the way back to camp Breaker had snags up the net-bag of beer that he had left in the lake to cool. They will have cold beer back at the campground fire. Cold beer by firelight in their first night in the bay of death, good.
They are all brimming with excitement brought on by the gold nugget discovery. And they had found another half dozen nuggets of varying size before they had returned to camp. Even now they sit about ogling them in the fire’s blaze. They had set up their sleeping bags and bed in the giant hammock before they had left to the lake, so now they can relax, and they sit about the fire drinking and smoking and talking. Mostly about their plan of attack. How to become rich with no money down. You can make lotsa money and be surrounded by beautiful women, all wit no money down. I show you my incrediba system . . . and so on and so forth.
Is this how gold fever starts?
They have forgotten about the women in their lives. They’ll remember soon.
*
Lyselle finds Terza’s number the old fashioned way, she earns it, by calling 411. Terza doesn’t answer, but she gets a pleasant sounding message,
“Hey, it’s Terza, you don’t have me but you have the next best thing, so leave me your specs and I’ll get right back to you, thanks, bye.” BEEP. Lyselle leaves a message.
“Hi Terza, its Lyselle, remember me, I’m Jace’s girlfriend, I was just wondering if you heard from our boys, and how they may be doing . . .” She pauses, “I’ve been having this bad feeling so I’m on my way down there, if you could pick me up at the airport I would love you to pieces.” She hesitates for vocabulary, “If this seems, appreciable, to you, could you get back to me right away . . .” She leaves her particulars then cuts the connection. She nods to herself in agreement with what she has done.
She loves her man and will do anything, to get him back safely. And she feels that Terza will be of like mind. Terza is, she just doesn’t know it yet. Lyselle strokes her Siamese and speed-dials Daddums. Grandma can watch the cat.
Terza listens to Lyselle’s message from her barstool at Kito’s Kave. She loves this place, only because it’s Breaker’s favorite hangout, and she feels close to him here, when he is gone. He practically owns the joint. Hell, everyone in town loves him, he literally rules supreme here. The townsfolk having raised him to near icon status, which makes her his Queen. And they treat her like royalty all right, with her dark sensuality, they absolutely praise her. She loves the self-importance having grown up, in low self esteem.
She senses the subtle urgency in Lyselle’s message and replays it, listening closer. Be here tomorrow, and could she pick her up? Well talk about queen shit of the universe!
Wait . . . does that sound familiar? No matter, she can pick the bitch up tomorrow; and find out what’s going on. Terza glances at her cell phone and scrolls down to Breaker’s satellite phone number. She knows it’s only for an emergency, and feels that it hasn’t come to that by far.
Even though she is dying to call him, but she knows Breaker; he would be pissed if it wasn’t life or death. She decides against calling for now.
There is no way, she could possibly know, that it is a life and death matter. How could she?
*
One who is many reels in exhaustion. He returns to his physical body and falls to his side, where he breathes spasmodically. He releases his mental grip on the tribe and they cascade back to their normal bodies. Normal. Now that is funny, if you consider a short, squat, misshapen, midget otter-body, normal, then don’t laugh. It could be you, literally.
Scant minutes before, the entire Tribe had transformed their physical bodies into that of fleas. Sand-fleas to be exact, and then, they had translated themselves to the beach at the lake. To push gold nuggets to the surface, for our boys to find. And their exertions had completely exhausted them on the physical plane. And as the sand-fleas died, from fresh water exposure, and so did they disappear into the ether, to replenish their vital power.
Therefore further baiting the newcomers into this madness. It is all One’s plan. Of them all, he is the only one, to remain in our plane of existence after their exertions.
And his plan will work. One who is many would have laughed if he had the strength.
*
Back at camp Breaker outlines their plan for tomorrow by firelight. The flickering light dances about them all, revealing their features, and concealing their feelings. They can hear Breaker’s voice, it is very soothing in its confidence, yet they hear very little of what he has to say, all of them lost, in their own thoughts and emotions. They smile, and nod, and smoke the weed, that Jack keeps passing about, and they drink beer and,
Suddenly the fire flares up, a cold, blue-green flame, hissing like that of a demon snake from hell.
“Holy fuck!” Jace cries and they all jump up grappling for their pistols. The fire continues to rise and they all stumble backwards away from it, and away from each other. Until instinctive vulnerability sets in, and they simultaneously whip around, to face the woods about them. They scan the tree line for any trace of movement, ready to fire at anytime. The seconds tick off, as an eternity. Slowly the fire begins to subside, and the flames die down, to a normal yellow flame. The tension falls and they turn around to glance about at each other.
Jack begins to laugh nervously and it catches on, and soon they are all cracking up like mad bastards. They go back to their spots by the fire. They sit down slowly, nervously, as Breaker passes out fresh coldies, seeming unaffected. But none of them seem to re-holster their weapons,
“Gotta love that adrenaline rush,” Breaker laughs,
“You know it.” Kelly agrees, “Must’ve been a sap pocket in the wood.”
“That’s one fuck of a sap pocket!” Jack says.
“Fuckin A,” Jace agrees and they all laugh again. They all drink and the scene is quiet. Jace looks at Breaker,
“Tell ‘em the story man.” He says, “Tell ‘em about the time . . .”
“Fuck that!” Breaker retorts, “They won’t sleep tonight! Hell I won’t sleep tonight, thanks for reminding me of that shit!”
“What shit?” Kelly asks.
“Nothing . . .” Breaker says.
“No tell it.” Kelly insists.
“No.” Jace says quickly, covering his older brother, “No, if Break says no, forget it. He can tell us if, and when he wants, end of story.”
Silence, Jace can be convincing when he wants to.
“We should wind down, bunk up soon.” Breaker says, “Ya heard it.” Just the way he delivered orders on the boat, simple, to the point, and unarguable.
“Fuck that Cap’n Bligh! Pass that fuckin’ tequila bitch!” Jack can always find a way to argue. They all laugh. Except for Breaker, who takes out his flask. It seems this isn’t his boat after all. I guess they could stand to stay up a bit longer. Like they could sleep anyway. Kelly looks at him.
“Tell them about 2012 then, and Nibiru.” He says,
“What about 2012?” Jack asks quickly, the conspiracy nut in him coming out.
“Tell ‘em Break.” Kelly continues to hassle him. Even Jace looks at him curiously. Breaker smiles,
“Fine,” He says, and motions for Jack’s bowl. And after taking a long hit from it and a quick pull of his flask and beer, he begins his tale, “We all know that the date; December 21, 2012 is the end of the Mayan calendar, winter solstice, the end of the 2600 year calendar, which is actually only half of the 5200 year cycle. The end of the fourth cycle, which just so happens to fall on the same day, that a cosmological event, that only happens every 250,800 years, occurs, which is our alignment with galactic center. Which means, by our perspective, the Milky Way galaxy completes a rotation, and our small planet is aligned with the Black Hole at its center. Theoretically, when the planet changes axis, which it has done several times, in its short history. The indisputable fossilized evidence all around us supports it.”
“Supports what?” Jack asks. Breaker sips his beer and continues,
“The fact that the planet has flipped over before, and very quickly. You’ve all heard about the mammoth they’ve uncovered here in Alaska, which was in pristine condition. Having thawed it out with butter cups still frozen in its mouth. None of the flowers having decomposed, which means they were frozen very quickly, Hell, the glaciers on top of the mountains prove my point; that ice didn’t migrate up there. The point being, the planet has flipped over before, and it will do it again.”
“Sounds like more Y2K bull shit to me, and nothing happened then.” Jack mocks.
“Oh, do not even try to compare a man-made computer scare to the rotation of the galaxy.” Breaker hisses at him.
“I’m just saying” Jack says.
“Forget about that one boss; tell them about the planet of crossing.” Kelly says.
“These guys can’t handle that shit.” Breaker defends.
“What?” Jace asks, and they all look at Breaker.
“That has no relevance what-so-ever . . .”
“And we don’t want to hear about us dying.” Jace says flatly and the others agree. Breaker sighs and sips his beer again, motioning for the pipe.
“On an entirely unrelated subject, there is a theory, that there is one more planet in our system. They call it, Marduk, or Nibiru. The tenth planet. Or the planet of crossing; it has a huge, eccentric orbit that takes 3600 years, or one shar to complete.” He takes the pipe from Kelly and hits it before going on, speaking in the semi-hitched voice of someone holding a hit of smoke, “It originally collided with the planet in the fifth position, where the asteroid belt is now,” He illustrates the point with motions of his hands, “Knocking it into the third position, and into the habitable zone.” he exhales out his hit and the others continue to watch him, enrapt. “But the planet of crossing didn’t actually collide with the other planet, which was called Tiamat. It was actually Marduk’s primary satellite Kingu, which collided with Tiamat, being usurped by its gravity, and becoming its satellite. Then Tiamat, the frozen watery goddess, thawed out, within the habitable zone, and became our Earth, and Kingu, was now our moon. And then, life, on Earth, began to flourish.”
“How’d life get here?” Jack asks. “I still don’t get it.”
“Maybe it was already here.” Breaker offers.
“Not after a collision like that.” Jack says.
“Maybe it came from Marduk, many shars later,” Breaker shrugs, “The theory also claims that the planet of crossing was inhabited, by a superior life form, called the nephilim. They are so similar to us, that they can actually interbreed with humans, like the Bible says. The angels of God came down from the heavens, and found the daughters of men comely, and took them as their wives.”
“Oh shit, not the Bible now. You lost me.” Jack says. “Isn’t Raven your creator?”
“Yeah . . .” Breaker says slowly.
“How did that go again?” Jack asks.
“That has nothing to do with the story at hand . . .” Breaker defends,
“I beg to differ, Skip. Please, humor me.” Jack presses. Breaker slumps over noticeably, but concedes,
“In the beginning Raven opened the clamshell, and Man sprang out.” He says in an obviously well practiced speech, “But the world was cold and dark then, so Raven went to the great Chief’s lodge, and he stole the sun, and moon, and stars, from him, and he released them into our world, that we might survive.”
“That’s awesome.” Jace says.
“No shit.” Kelly agrees, and they both smile at each other and Jack sparks a smoke.
“That is cool,” Jack says exhaling and taking the stage, obviously. “Because, I like Raven,” He says smiling and handing his near empty pack of smokes to the others like he is generous, “Because he’s likened unto Loki, in the Norse myth, or likened unto Shiva in the Hindu, which of course, is destroyer/creator. Now think about that story you just told me, and look at it symbolically, not literally, and in a reverse order, like most myths are told. Perhaps Raven was a meteor that slammed into the Earth’s surface.” Jack slams a fist into his palm to emphasize the point, getting reactions from the others, “Creating a huge dust cloud, effectively stealing the sun and moon and stars from the great Chief’s lodge . . . the sky,” He gestures with his free hand, “And destroying all the dinosaur life beneath the K2 barrier. Perhaps centuries later, when the skies cleared, Raven released the sun, and moon, and stars, and then, the center of the meteor, having been exposed by erosion, released, the DNA strand, the building blocks of life as we know it after the K2 barrier. The Fibonacci sequence was unleashed once again, but this time with a different superior, a new alpha. Mythically speaking, the clamshell opened and Man sprang out into the world.” Walter smiles triumphantly, “There’s your mythology, perfectly explained in a scientific way” Jack occasionally likes to prove that he went to college too, and everyone sits in silence Breaker is slack-jawed just for a moment, then,
“Dude, that’s fucking perfect man. The nephilim fired a meteor at Earth from their perigee. To wipe out the lizards and install man the worker, to the top of the food chain. It fits perfectly. When did you come up with that shit?” Breaker asks.
“It just came to me, as you were talking about all that other shit.”
“Fuck you.” Breaker cries out and lunges at Jack and they go down to the canvas in a multiple uproar as they all dive into the dog-pile. Gold fever has no bias.
It will be hours before we find them up, in the hammock. They don’t take off their pistols belts, but snuggle up to them all night long. Some of them dreaming the same dream.
It starts out good.
*
One who is many sits meditating at the location that he always finds most comforting. The place he likens most unto himself. More than any other place in the entire universe. The only place he can free himself from the multi-mind. The only place desolate enough. The surface of our moon.
One looks away from the earth, and his wretched physical body. He needs to forget about his personal history, divorce himself from it! He must feel Diana now. He must feel her swelling. And be in tune with her coming cycle. He must know her exact hour of fullness, her . . . ripening. He must know it to the nanosecond, if he is to succeed in this . . . madness given life.
*
Terza has no problem picking Lyselle up at the airport. Their first meeting is near hilarious. Lyselle came incognito, in jeans and t-shirt, with a bandanna tied around her head. She is not without her own skills. Terza has no idea who she is until she approaches her with her luggage,
“Terza?” She asks innocently. Terza smiles,
“You must be Lyselle.”
“Of course,” Lyselle says humorlessly, “Can we get the fuck out of here?” She smiles as Terza recoils silently, and motions to the door. They go to Terza’s pathfinder and load Lyselle’s bags and get in the car. Terza expected something much different than Lyselle, as she is. Even now, they speak to each other about their plan of attack.
“First of all do you know where they went?” Lyselle asks her bluntly.
“Vaguely,” Terza says,”It’s in Thomas bay for sure, but I know someone who knows exactly where they went” She relates the story Breaker told her of the old native man in the hospital in Wrangell.
“Then we’ll start there.” Lyselle says.
“Some of us have to work tomorrow.” Terza defends.
“I would take a sick day if I were you.” Lyselle says, “Your man’s life might be at stake.” Lyselle’s eyes burn into hers and it only takes a moment for Terza to make up her mind,
“There’s a ferry heading to Wrangell tomorrow, we can be there in the in the afternoon.” Terza says.
“Sounds perfect,” Lyselle replies smiling. This is going to be easier than she first surmised.
*
Walter lies in his sleeping bag in a relaxed state, hovering in and out of sleep. They are all lined up one after another, in their giant hammock. The same could not be said for his R.E.M. staging friends. Each of them is in the deep, dreaming, rapid eye movement state. They are fixated on exact same vision, just with different women. Since we’ve all seen Lyselle and Terza, let’s look in on Kelly’s vision, and his girlfriend, Jeannette. She’s taller and fuller figured than either of the others, though facially she appears plain, and her hair is a modest brown along with her eyes, when compared to the other beauties. But she’s far more voluptuous than either, and downright busty. Her skin is good and an even milky white. She is laying on her side, fast asleep, the curves of her Amazon Goddess body accentuated in the weak light. Kelly’s hand starts at her shoulder and makes its way down her waist to her hip, then down and across her thigh. And now we see Lyselle lying in the same position. She is slowly waking as Jace’s hand glides back up and across her naked thigh. He continues to slide it up, and over to cup her exposed breast. She wakes fully, turning towards him. Now we see Terza, turning the exact same way as Lyselle had, and she kisses Breaker on the lips for an extended moment. Then he lies back, as she straddles him. His eyes flutter closed briefly with pleasure, and he looks at her,
and his heated blood freezes in his veins!
The thing sitting on him is hideously deformed, and he’s thankful that its eyes are shaded in the dark. Its limbs are stunted, like a midget’s. It’s skin so dark, it is nearly black and the thing is covered with matted hair cascading unruly about it’s head. With it’s cramped together facial features looking so primordial, as to encompass Cro-Magnon down to Australopithecus. With the exception of its filed sharp-teeth. That are grinning maniacally at him, enjoying his paralysis. It smacks its lips and raises a short, ornately-carved gold dagger above its head.
And plunges it into his chest,
The three of them scream themselves awake in unison, three identical shrieks of pain and shock echoing through the still night.
“Holy Jesus fuck!” Walter cries out sitting bolt-upright and absolutely freaking-out. The others glance about at each other wide eyed as hell. “Nightmares, boys?” Walter asks, again with the sarcasm. They nod in unison,
“The little fucker stabbed me right in the chest!” Kelly exclaims.
“Me too,” Jace agrees, “Right when I was about to . . .” He pauses suddenly.
“Get a little on me.” Breaker finishes for them.
“Same scream, same dream . . .” Walter chuckles, then, “Man, fuck this, I got to smoke.”
“I’ll join you this time.” Kelly says. “Just this once.” They all laugh at his dryness. And just then, it begins to rain, and it doesn’t stop for days, with many levels of intensity. They are thankful for the tarp stretched over the hammock, on many levels of intensity.
*
It isn’t long, and the sun is up, and the rain is light, and the daylight is burning. The four of them make their way down to the pit at different intervals, and Breaker, being first up, starts the fire. He heats water for instant breakfast, Top Ramen. Walter takes the gold they had found last night, back out. Soon they are all re-infected with gold fever, and their nightmares, are forgotten memories. It isn’t long and they gear up and gather their equipment for the day and are making their way back up stream, Breaker with the metal detector going full swing, it goes something like this,
“Something right here,” Break says and moves on, and one of the others will start digging where he had indicated, and then he goes, “Maybe something here.” At the next spot, then he moves on and the cycle begins again, with them hitting and missing, all the way up the semi dry creek bed.
A couple hours later they take a break at a downed tree near the creek bed and sit on its base, eating trail mix and cold sandwiches, looking over the flecks, and the little chunks of gold that they have just found. They are keeping them in the empty Tupperware container that the lunch came in. They are starting to amass quite a little collection,
“Maybe we should try a little panning eh, Break?” Jace asks, silence. “Breaker?” Jace looks at him. Breaker, is looking just upstream at the next bend of the creek bed. And at a large flat rock that stretches all the way across it, with a huge crack running across its flat surface. He jumps up suddenly, and jogs up to the spot, with the others following quickly. He reaches the rock and looks at the other’s grinning.
“What, Breaker?” Jace asks again. Breaker responds by kneeling down and he reaches into the crack, and begins scraping the sand out of it with his tiny garden shovel. He starts spreading it out on a flat surface of the rock, digging, and spreading, digging and spreading, until,
“Bingo!” Breakers says and holds up a nugget.
“Oh, shit!” Walter exclaims laughing. Soon he is digging as well, with his hands, and the others are spreading it out, looking through it, and passing the detector over it, SCREEE!
“Another one,” Kelly says.
“Me too,” Jace chimes in, and it goes on like that until, reaching the bottom, Breaker starts pulling handfuls of gold nuggets out. And they are all laughing their asses off by then. Breaker explains,
“You see, this crack is like a natural trap, a natural sluice, for eons of gold to be trapped in.” He pauses for effect, “And this is just the placer.”
“Placer?” Walter asks a bewildered look on his face.
“Right, placer gold that’s been deposited by water movement.” Jace answers for Breaker.
“Excellent Jace, now tell them the good part.” Breaker says smiling.
“Better than this? Walter holds up a nugget.
“Oh yeah,” Jace says, “If we follow this up into the hills we might be able to locate, the source.”
“The source, oh, you mean like, the vein?” Walter again.
“No, he means like the mother fucking lode . . . with this much placer gold, it’s got to be huge.” Breaker interjects, and they all begin to laugh and hug and slap each other on the backs. And all manner of high fives in between.
“We need to double-time back to camp, regroup and get hiking.” Breaker says. They finish scraping out the crack in the streamed. Just to make sure they don’t miss anything. Then they pack up the placer gold, which nearly fills their little Tupperware deal. Then they hustle back to the campsite and slap together some lunch, washing it down with cold beer from the lake. Breaker had packed 12 beers per pack. So they still had quite a bit left. They are all so excited they hardly speak to each other.
“Light packs, everyone, this is strictly a re-con trip.” Breaker orders and they raise everything they are not taking with them back up to the safety of the giant hammock. He stands surveying the land, back up stream. Back in the direction that they had come from, looking for the path of least resistance. The Hemlock and Sitka spruce group together thick in this area of the Taiga, so the underbrush here isn’t nearly as thick as at the beach-line. Which is very lucky for them, it makes the going fairly easy. He chooses his angle of approach and makes motions to the others to hustle up. Daylight is burning, and the gold fever is burning in them as well. The strange circumstances, bad dreams and thoughts of Kushtaka? They are but smoking ash in its all-consuming blaze. Soon, they’re on their way, carrying only their small day packs. They hustle along at a good pace, not one of them talking, but in their own private thoughts, of riches. They don’t notice the ravens following them, and the others that circle high overhead. Ravens that don’t caw, click, or tongue a single noise. Which they surely would have found strange, and not one of them notices how unnaturally quiet it is.
Gold fever will do that to a guy.
*
Hours later, they are picking their way up the route in, still following the stream they had found the placer in, when they come upon a large, rock slide, on the eastern bank. Actually more like a cliff than a bank it is so steep. Breaker calls a halt and is jockeying for a position, which will enable him to see through the treetops, and up onto the slide. He uses his field glasses, while the others sip at their water bottles. A shit eating grin erupts on his face suddenly.
“Jace,” He calls out to his brother and motions to him and the others. They gather about him and he hands them each the glasses in turn, “Look up that rock slide to its origin, okay, see that rust, like mineral flow above it? Now follow that up . . . see that crack it’s coming from?” He lets the words sink in,
“Now that is our gold vein; I’d stake my life on it!”
And he will. They all will.
*
Breaker sits eating trail mix, while the others take turns looking up the scree with the binoculars. He is lost in his thoughts, staring absently downstream. He notices a movement ever so slight. He suddenly realizes he is staring right at an otter. And the god dam thing is staring right back at him. It grins at him, and he grins back at the Lords creature. Just as it ducks behind the rock, that it was just peeking out from. Before he can think, Breaker is up and running down to the spot as fast as he can. The others looking at his receding form, stupefied.
Breaker draws his pistol as he nears, for some reason. Is he going to shoot the little bastard? For what? Grinning at him? He can’t say for sure if he won’t shoot,
“Hi-ya!” He cries out in triumph as he jumps up on the otter’s hidey hole. Aiming his pistol down at the empty spot where the thing, should be crouching.
Nothing. He would have seen it if it ran off. He drops down to his haunches, looking at the ground for any sign. No sign at all, like the thing had ever been there at all.
“Breaker!” Jace calls out to him as he jogs down to where he stands on the rock. The others follow, “What’s up?” He asks Breaker looks up at him now, shaking his head negative, “What are you doing?” Jace presses him. Breaker shrugs,
“I thought I saw an otter, but when I got here, it was gone.” He replies, looking back down to the spot again.
“Really?” The others exchange glances, “So, you were just going to blow it away.” Jace says, more of a statement than a question. Breaker nods,
“I think so.” He says looking up and smiling, “I felt like it.”
“I saw one earlier too.” Kelly says and Jack pulls out his pipe and takes a hit. And they all watch him tap the bowl out and reload it.
“What?” Jack says when he notices all eyes on him, “I ain’t seen shit.” He holds the pipe out, “Ceremonial anyone?” They all glance about and the tension is broken.
*
One Who Is Many watches the newcomers through the eyes of an otter. He has followed their progress in many forms. The last of which, being the Tribes mainstay, the land otter. He watches as Strong Heart, makes his discovery. Out of all the treasure seekers that have come to his stronghold throughout the years, rare few had found the source, and never so easily, as this one. He can not help himself from grinning at him, before melting back into landscape.
Perhaps this will be more interesting than he had first surmised. He translates through the land, and back to his natural form. It is time to prepare for battle.
*
After talking their way into Wrangell General, Lyselle leads Terza down the antiseptic smelling white hallway to its end. By the window they find the old man at the same place Breaker had found him. The older Brea’quaithe. He turns in his chair holding his crutches, watching them approach. As though he knows them. Like he’s been waiting for them, for all of his life. He waves them to sit on the bench beside him. The girls glance at each other and shrug. Lyselle sits and Terza remains standing.
“I expected you would come.” He says, his entire face smiling at them.
“What?” Terza says, “They say you don’t speak English.”
“Of course I speak Dleit Qa,(white man),” The old man replies, “I just wasn’t going to make it easy for them.” He motions back down the hall towards the unknowing hospital staff.
They all giggle a moment together, and the girls warm to him immediately. Terza sits down next to Lyselle after all. Then, the old man tells them about his talk with Breaker, telling them the whole story and a bit more,
“You see, I knew this day would come, it is in my blood!” The old man thumps his chest with his fist. “As it is in the younger, Brae’quaithe’s as well,” The old man goes on moving his fingers hypnotically,
“For our old uncle Brae’quate’s great, great, great ancestor was the powerful shaman who buried the Kusaxa Kwaan, the cannibal tribe, in the bay of Death. It was he who stopped the slaughter . . . with another. He was the one called, Teet Tlenx’, which means powerful wave . . .”
“Or breaking water,” Terza says.
The old man smiles again, thinking, This one is smart.
“Where are they?” Lyselle asks.
“Get me out of here, and I’ll take you there.” The old man says to her,
“You must be kidding.” Terza motions to his cast.
“Don’t worry about me,” He defends, “I’ve had much worse. Do you think you can get me out?”
“No problem,” Lyselle replies, “They’re wondering what to do with you; I could hear it in the nurse’s voice.” Another smart one, the old man thinks t himself.
*
Back at the camp, Breaker builds a fire and is heating water for minute rice and fresh fish, and they are all enjoying some cold beer. The electric excitement is thick in their animated conversation. Breaker hands them all paper plates and they eat their first hot meal in days. It is excellent, halibut and rice,
“Boys,” Breaker mouths one of his late father’s, old favorite sayings, “It just don’t get any better.” They laugh and agree and they drink and laugh and joke and punch each other’s arms good-naturedly. After the meal they all quiet and look to Breaker in anticipation as if to say, What’s our next move o’ fearless leader. Brea’quaithe pulls his pack towards himself, and digs inside of it. He produces a jug of tequila and 4 carefully packed shot glasses,
“It’s about time for a little celebration, yo!” He says, “And I’ll tell you exactly how we’ll play this.” He passes out the shot glasses.
“Damn, you got shot gasses all the way up here?” Jack says, “I have no idea why they call you Breaker.”
“Its not that type of Breaker dumb ass,” Jace says, “It’s more like, a wave at the beach.”
“Oh right, a Breaker,” Jack says looking at him. He winks, “That is cool.”
*
One who is many sits in his lodge seething in anger. Once again, these newcomers have found a way to cloud their thoughts, so he can not read them. He can’t understand it! What are they doing to accomplish this feat? He is sure that he had countered the smoking medicine, and now this? One who is many grinds his teeth in fury. They will pay, is his last thought, before projecting his awareness deep within himself.
*
Deep down Jace is scared shitless. Only his natural acting ability keeps this from being apparent to every one else. Left to is own devices, he would have just stayed at home and quietly gone insane. Nothing else to do about it, everything he tried to write, became evil, everything he tried to draw, became grotesque. He is very lucky Breaker had come to his rescue, or he still would be holed up in his closet smoking crack, and trying to stay awake. He never thought in his worst nightmares he’d actually be here in Thomas Bay. But now he feels an incredible courage, just being around his foster brother. The only family he has, and Breaker’s strength is infectious, it runs like a serum through his veins. He hasn’t heard any of the voices in days. The legion has gone silent.
Walter Jack loads another bowl and lights it. He sips a bit more beer to stifle a cough in his throat, and he looks at the gold nugget he had taken to carrying around in his pocket. Admiring it surreptitiously as he listens to Breaker. It is one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen. He smiles to himself and slips it back into his pocket.
Kelly slaps Jack on the arm and beckons for the pipe. Like Breaker, he used to only smoke on rare occasions. But he has found lately, that it seems to calm his jumbled thoughts. To ease his tense nerves. Hell, they are all turning into a bunch of stoners. I guess it could have been worse. Breaker takes the pipe from Kelly and hits it, then passes it on in one fluid motion. He raises the jug and fills his shot glass, a silent command for all to do the same. They hold them all out, and he fills their glasses carefully one by one, and then he makes a toast,
“To gold!” Of course, and they all down their shots of liquid courage. Then Breaker lays out the game plan, “Tomorrow we traverse the ridge, light packs and climbing gear only. It didn’t look too bad, so we should be able to attain the site in short order. We might just move base camp, if we can find a suitable spot.”
“What, and lose our beer cooler?” Jack motions towards the lake, Breaker just smiles and continues on,
“Ha-ha, when we get back two of us have to hike it back to the boat and check it out and re-up our supplies. The other two will head back out to the vein and get it ready, whatever that may entail. So what we have to do tonight is choose up teams.” He says smiling about at the others.
“How do you want to do it?” Jace asks, not wanting to think about being split up from Breaker.
“Rock paper scissors, we draw straws . . . eenie meenie little weenie, it doesn’t make any difference to me, it just has to be done.” He answers simply. Kelly and Jack look at each other and shrug, Jace looks at Breaker and raises an eyebrow,. Unspoken choices have been made,
“Okay then, that’s it.” Breaker agrees with the city boys being paired with the woodsmen and holds his beer up and they all follow suit, “Here’s to being rich.” He says heartily,
“Shit, you’re already rich.” Jace counters.
“So are you!” Walter throws in.
“To being richer,” Breaker says.
“Hell, I’ll settle for rich.” Kelly states.
“Just fucking drink it you!” Breaker orders and they all laugh and drink. Then stories start flying, fatties start rolling, and the jug gets shorter.
They all agree, it is the best of times. And we like that.
*
One who is many sits in deep meditation, blocking out the cacophony of the myriad voices in his head. Each belonging to a different personality of the legion of people, he has assimilated throughout the nigh 900 years he has crept across this Earth. But the other voices, the other personalities, are weakening even as he grows stronger. He believes he is now powerful enough to begin expelling them . . . exiling them from his mind. The spell requires another sophisticated mind with which to transfer his hated extra personalities in to. He will try it on these newcomers, as he sacrifices them to the pit. It is becoming increasingly more difficult to control the tribe. Their hunger for flesh is near insatiable. And they haven’t eaten for quite the age. Soon they would have meat, and he would rid himself of as many of these assimilated personalities as possible. He laughs aloud, and the legion laughs with him in his mind, oblivious. But he whips them down mentally. Soon, will be his time. He extends his mind out, to the newcomers, but they are even more clouded than before. He draws back quickly and controls his anger. He will let them go about digging his treasure from the mountain for him. Let their gold lust lull them into a false sense of security. One who is many will even keep the very mosquitoes away from them, as to not disrupt their excavation. He prepares himself, and his tribe, for the upcoming confrontation. He will carefully wait, for the time when he and the tribe will strike. He will control his emotions now, as never before. Even still, he allows himself a thin grin.

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Sooth Alaska: Maintaining your cool points while visiting Alaska, if you have any.

“Reg”-ulation number 6

Do not come to Alaska and ask us “Is it true, do you actually get paid to live in Alaska?” Yes we do get a permanent fund check every year the last one was just over a grand which isn’t enough to keep you in beer or whatever your vice for the long, dark winter. If you are considering moving here for the “free money” consider the cost of living is higher here than California or Hawaii and remember that you will most likely freeze to death your first winter you free-loading pansy! If the weather doesn’t get you some Alaskan chick will so best you stay at home and just keep watching the “Deadliest Catch” or “Gold Rush” and keep convincing yourself “I could do that”.

Ku’cta’qa: The Legend of the Bay of Death part two chapter two

A very long chapter which starts with our antagonist in his most revealing and ends with our heroes finding a camping spot in the dreaded Bay of Death itself with a sprinkle of actual history. Have fun!

Chapter Two
One who is many sits in his lodge in a trance. Part of his awareness is miles away, inside the tiny body of a mosquito. He lands it on Breaker’s back, and even now, it clings him as he walks inside the cabin of the boat. One has been listening to their conversation and decides to taste their blood while he still has the chance. He will wait until they fell asleep, and sneak around biting each one, to map their blood code and then the marked one, to taste his blood. The secret is in the blood, the life is in the blood!
One who is many remembers when he first learned, the secret of the blood. Back in the land of his original birth, a land far to the south of here, a full continent away. Where, he had himself castrated at a young age, before he could reach puberty so he would be free to study the different levels of consciousness, without the angst of libido, to distract him. Such was the way of the devout, back home, in the land that had been destroyed by the Conqueror known as Cortez. Back there, back then, he was a keeper of the secret. He is, of the most honored, of his society. Until the Conqueror forces his hand by taking him away from his homeland, and leaving him here, in Alaska, imprisoned with half of the hoard of gold, for the treasure is far to vast to take home in one trip, so the Spaniards will leave nearly half of it hidden, here in the southeast Alaskan rainforest, with plans to return for it, one day.
Cortez has One who is many sealed in the cavern, with the treasure, leaving him as a ‘Guardian’, to watch over his fortune, until his return. Well, we all know that Cortez was never seen again. He sank somewhere with half of the Incan-Mayan horde, and took the secret of the other half with him. And the same fate would undoubtedly await One who is many, to die here, with all of his secrets.
One who is many sits down, to meditate just then, to conserve his strength, and to call out, mentally. Perhaps some one in this ancient land would hear him. And, yes, someone does hear him indeed. And that one sends an entire party to find One who is many. And One is only too happy to take their hands, and they bear him swiftly back to their village, for dinner, where he is the guest of honor. And the main course as well. For these are the cannibals, and they murder him and eat his body for supper. One who is many watches all of this from the ether in disbelief.
All of his training, all of his time and meticulous effort, wasted.
That is when he met Ku’cta and goes with him, to live on the point, becoming far more powerful, now, than he ever might have before. He adopts the Ku’cta’qa powers easily, and from his new vantage point, on the point, he exacts his revenge upon the cannibals, using the other tribes to wipe them from the face of the earth, and right into his own growing Ku’cta’qa army. And One who is many still knows all of his old secrets, like, the secret on how to project his life force into another being. The secret of taking over another’s body when one’s own became too old, the secret of usurping another’s mind, it is the secret of life eternal. It’s not like he hadn’t used it before, on several occasions, for One is already centuries old and has used the secret, countless times, back in his homeland. The secret that is in the blood, he doesn’t know that he is referring to the DNA strand. But neither does he care.
And you don’t actually take over their mind lock, stock and barrel. The original owner is always still in there, the person whose body he has stolen. One who is many would lock that part of their surviving awareness, in the depths of his sub-conscious mind. Only after stealing all the traits that he desires from the usurped mind, and adding them to his own psyche. Hence the name he had taken.
One who is many.
But now, he is something else entirely, something different. As is his tribe, the Kusaxa Kwaan, the cannibals that he made into Ku’cta’qa. They had become something, altogether different, as well.
One who is many laughs and uses the form of the mosquito to bite into Jace, and knows immediately, that he is one. His blood is most pleasing, and is a genetic map to his escape from the hideous form, that he now personifies. One who is many draws himself out of the mosquito, just as Jace slaps it dead. He laughs again from his lodge, and remembers.
For now he knows the secret of Jace’s blood, the sequence therein. And these Kushtaka, have their secrets as well, and they also have physical forms, of flesh and blood, ones that can cross over into both this world and the one thereafter. And One who is many knows the secret of vast fortunes in treasure, here, and the location of the Spaniards horde as well. And he has taken steps to keep that wealth hidden, from the outside world. And soon, he will be able to give all of that gold to his God, upon His return, which even now, approaches its zenith.
Perhaps if One who is many could learn the secrets of the outside world, through the marked one, after the merging, then, perhaps, he might be able to assimilate, their vast amount of gold as well.
God would be pleased with such a cunning individual, very pleased indeed. One who is many is even looking forward to having a new set of balls, to fuel his developing lust. One laughs again in his lodge, and all the animals around him within a five mile radius, shudder in their dens.
*
Jace wakes up a few hours later with a full bladder. He can smell breakfast cooking, he loves that idea. He rolls out of the bunk and slips on his sandals and makes his way to the deck of the cruiser, nodding to Breaker, who is doing the cooking, on the way. Breaker just nods back and flips his hash browns.
Outside, Jace lingers on the deck enjoying the sunrise. Kelly joins him, looking out at the morning sky.
“Now that is a beautiful sight.” Kelly says going to the opposite rail to piss over the side. Jace leans back against the wheelhouse, looking out towards the sunrise. Just the direction they will be heading in a bit. He strains his ears, to hear something, anything. Even in his head.
It makes him wonder where the idol is, suddenly. He knows it’s on board, somewhere. It’s best that Breaker has it. He doesn’t want to carry it anyway. At least, that’s how he feels right now. But just like the weather around here, give it fifteen minutes, it’ll change.
“Ye-t,” Kelly says absently to him, breaking up his drifting thoughts, “I’ll be here until the day I die.” He says prophetically, not knowing, just how true his words are. He will die here. Just a bit sooner than he expects, is all. They go back in the cabin to eat Breakfast. Inside Breaker passes them plates with hash browns and toast, and then he cooks them eggs to order. He finally has to kick Jack’s bunk to get him out,
“Come on I know you ain’t still sleeping A-hole, let’s go.” Jack’s sleeping bag flips back and he sits up rubbing his face,
“Damn that shit smells good.” He says grinning through his puffy features and eye boogers, dried saliva adorning one cheek.
“That’s odd,” Jace says, “I just farted.”
“That’s some old shit, just like you, old.” Jack says jumping out of the bunk quickly, while Jace flips him off, “Gimmie some of that grub, yea-ah.” He grabs a plate and sits down and digs in. Breaker comes towards the table with his breakfast about the time Kelly finishes eating, and he stands up to get ready. Breaker takes his vacant seat and wolfs his breakfast down in nothing flat. He is done before Jace and Jack both, a conditioned fisherman will only take moments to eat a meal, then it’s back out on deck to get back to work, because the sooner the works done the sooner you can sleep. And Breaker is definitely a conditioned fisherman, no sooner is he done eating, he is taking care of the dishes.
“Chop-chop boys,” He reminds them, “We have a lot ground to cover today.” They nod and hurry along, after Walter flips him the bird of course.
After breakfast Breaker is all business assigning each man a pack,
“Make yourself up a lunch real quick out of the shit on the counter.” There is all manner of lunch meats, bagels and breads, fruits and juice containers. Chocolate bars, Beef jerky and the like.
“We’ll make a trip up to set up camp, then a return to pick up more shit manna. Tonight . . . we sleep under the stars.” He pauses to laugh ever so vampire theatrically. No one’s impressed so he continues as though it never happened, “Don’t worry we’ve pre-packed everyone’s backpack, to make the most of this first trip. Jacky-boy lucks out the most, with the lightest one at a mere sixty pounds.”
“Oh fuck, are you kidding me?!” Jack cries, “I ain’t gonna make it, I got shit to carry myself, I gotta bad back for fuck’s sakes!” He shoots out excuse after excuse.
“Just buck up Mr. the Boarder.” Breaker says, “Aren’t you supposed to be in great shape for a lard-ass.”
“I just play a snowboarder on T.V. man, it’s all smoke and mirrors.”
“Don’t let him bullshit you,” Jace says, “I’ve seen him pack all kinds of shit up to flat-top.”
“That’s different Breaker, that’s when I got lotsa cocaine.” Kelly cracks up. Walter continues undaunted, “I just blew out a knee last season Break . . . God dam!” They all laugh out loud. Until Breaker finally sobers,
“Dude, that’s why you got the lightest one here,” Jack starts to go again, but Breaker silences him with a finger, and an expression. “Besides,” He winks at Kelly, “I’m sure you got cocaine.”
“I’s savin’ it!” Jack cries. Breaker turns and glares at him. Don’t be a pussy in front of my navy seal deckhand please! Is the look he gives him. Jack looks down to the pack reluctantly, then at Kelly. He smiles lamely and shrugs,
“Damn, well, I tried.” Jack mutters pretending it was all an act, and then he hefts his pack once, testing the weight. Breaker turns to Jace,
“Now yours isn’t much worse, it’s about sixty-eight.”
“Give or take.” Kelly concurs.
“I think I can hack it.” Jace says.
“If not you can trade with Jack, Kelly’s and mine, are over eighty pounds each.”
“More like ninety.” Kelly says hefting his, “What the fuck did you pack, a waveless Jacuzzi?” Jace laughs out and points at Kelly nodding, and Walter shrugs wondering,
“Don’t scare the boys, now.” Breaker says, “Let’s load ‘em up and get moving people, daylights a wasting.” They load the packs into the scow quickly while Breaker warms up the outboard engine, everyone lost in their own thoughts. The smoke of the engine drifting lazily along the water, and they all smell the gasoline exhaust in contrast to the salty, fresh air, with different levels of acceptance.
Well, now, Jacey-boy, this is it. Jace thinks to himself, reverting to his hated childhood moniker, he has already resolved himself to death. Anything will be better the way he was living. He closes his eyes and pictures Lyselle, and has to swallow and emotional lump, God dammit. If he makes it out he’s going to bring her some gold and diamonds. That’s all there is to it.
All right you little fuckers, let’s go! Kelly is thinking and checking every one of the weapons, in his gear, and on his person, as well as his ammunition. He is looking forward to a fire-fight. Hell, this is gonna be fun.
I gotta enough dope for a week, or two. Maybe three if I hold out! Walter is taking inventory of his various stashes of drugs. He is hoping to find enough gold to stay high without having to sell this shit. That would rule.
Creator, it is a good day, to live. Breaker is making prayer with his maker. He also, thinks of this, as a showdown that may involve his own demise, but not today, later maybe, unless he can help it. He will call upon his ancestors, when the time comes.
*
One who is many sits in his smoke-hut meditating. He will not leave this tiny lodge for days to come now. Now he will simply wait for a time, and bait them in. He will bring them directly to the mother lode, knowing that they will use their advanced technology to unearth the hoard for him. He has to but lead them to it, without them knowing, let them believe it is all their own cunning. He begins to scan through their thoughts to plan his stratagem.
The marked one’s thoughts are easiest for him, for he has already tasted his blood, and he knows the sequence therein, but, his thoughts are nearly useless. A jumble of scenes, a recurrent redheaded woman (which makes him, once again desire a full nut-sac) and a hideous, long-haired, filthy individual, and if he isn’t mistaken, a bastardized version of his own tribe! One who is many realizes quickly, that this is how the marked one imagines that they look, in his own mind’s eye. It looks like they have been his focus, all along. The Kushtaka, are his obsession. He longs to discover the outcast tribe. His tribe, well if that’s what he truly desires, One who is many is eager to facilitate him. He will promise to make him Chief. And then steal his body, and escape into our world. One who is many moves his mental probe to the next newcomer.
The Killer of men is no help either. One who is many, turns away from his thoughts, immediately. They are all of slaughter, the slaughter of his people, the tribe. He makes a mental note to kill him first.
The clouded one is just that, his thoughts are always shrouded, in a cloud of smoke, that One who is many can not see through. One must learn, of this, ‘clouding medicine’, that he is so unfamiliar with, for the clouded one shares this medicine often, with the others, and it pisses One off to no end! He will drag the secret of this clouding medicine from him, before his death.
Finally, he focuses his mind scan on the last of the invaders, the one whom he fears most. The one with the strong heart, the one of the blood power, absolute in his convictions, and on a vision of glory, he stands out amongst them, his energy sphere is enormous and brilliant. Strong heart’s thoughts blaze across One who is many’s holographic mind scape as though on fire, and his tiny physical body recoils vaguely from their heat. One who is many draws his awareness back a bit. He dares not get too close to this one, lest he discover his presence. That, One can not afford. He has waited millennia for this, the endgame.
As he scans Strong heart’s thoughts, and his plan, it becomes clear, who will find the hoard. He might not even need any help. But of course, One who is many will be subtle with his long-reaching influence.
Back on the point One who is many’s face erupts in an explosion of file-sharpened teeth, and anyone who saw it would be hard-pressed to realize, that it is a smile.
*
Breaker stretches out on the beach going through his basic routine. The scow already having been anchored out and the gas line and tanks locked off. Jace joins him while Walter Jackson pisses and moans a while longer, and Kelly checks his weapons, A-gain. Jace smiles sheepishly and Breaker grins back at him and they both begin to stretch together, like they have done many times before. The bugs are slight, with the fair weather, and afterward, they assemble with the others at the tideline for the final briefing. Breaker goes through the plan one more time,
“Okay, we hike in and find base-camp, set it up and scout a bit. We’ll spend the night, then come tomorrow sometime, we split into teams of two, two stay in and continue scouting together, and the other two return to the ‘Saltheart’ and get the other two packs that I showed you, right?” All agree,” After that, every other day or so, a two man team has to return back to the ‘Salt’, to make sure our ride home is all good, and to call base, and leave a message for Terza and tell her everything is cool . . .”
“Cool?” Jack asks,” Hell, I can do that from right here, chillin’!”
“The Kushtaka can drag your ass right off this boat just as easy, especially if you’re alone,” Breaker counters without missing a beat, “Remember, everything we find out there, we split equally, four ways.” He lets that sink in.
“Everything?” Jack asks smiling.
“Fucking rights,” Breaker returns. Jace asks,
“Even the Kushtaka?” Breaker snaps him a dark look, his smile fades quickly,
“What if we don’t find shit?” Kelly joins the converse,
“Then we don’t split shit!” Breaker snorts a slight burst of laughter, “So let’s go already, mount up.”
“Yo, yo!” Jack blurts out suddenly, “I got to call a safety meeting, I don’t give a flying fuck, what Cap’n Bligh here says, I got to get high!” He pulls out his stash-box and lights a joint so fluidly it seems a single motion, “Now y’all best gather ‘round ‘cause I ain’t goin’ nowhere wit’ a motherfucker who ain’t high right now, ‘coz there’s one thing I know for sure about these mother fucking kushta whatevers, is they don’t get high!” The laughter is of course, simultaneous.
Jack is great comic relief. They meet safely, and highly. And clouded.
*
This really fucking irritates One who is many. He doesn’t know whether to shit or go blind. Now where had that come from? Contact with these assholes is beginning to have an effect on him. He is picking up their language. He draws his awareness back, and locates the raven nearest to them. He enters its mind, and momentarily,
It flies off to look at these rat-bastards one more time. It is going to take a lot of restraint not to just take these strange interlopers right now!
One glance at the newcomers and he knows he must go back to his body. His consciousness returns to his physical form at the speed of thought. He calms the hive-mind of the tribe, which even now, waits en-mass outside of his sweat-lodge. He awakens. It is time to address the tribe, his adopted people. He stands and walks out into the daylight. As one, the entire tribe focuses their eyes upon him, and their huddled, hoary masses quiver in anticipation. Squat, hairy bodies bristling with muscles in contorted deformity, they titter with energy. One who is many hushes them all with a single thought.
Wait. He says, then.
Soon. He impresses this thought upon one and all, through mind wavelength alone. Soon, we will feed.
*
Tuklan watches the entire scene with conditioned impassiveness, through One who is many’s eyes. He is a master of emotional control. He has been imprisoned in One who is many’s subconscious mind for so long that the only thing he can be sure of, is his name, Tuklan (tooke-lawn). He also somehow knows, that if he loses that, his name, then he will be no better than the others. The multitude of others whom One who is many has absorbed throughout the centuries. Those that lie locked in the limbo, of One who is many’s extraordinary mind, in his subconscious.
Tuklan knows that his time will come soon his time for revenge against he who destroyed his family, the one who is responsible for his own destruction.
Revenge against the One, who is many. Tuklan retreats back into One’s subconscious. But not before he has seen them.
Not before he has seen what has become of them, those that make up, the tribe. He knows what he has to do. Tuklan prepares himself for the up-coming battle, and the culmination of his being.
*
Breaker calls a halt at the half-moon lake. Virtually the first time he has spoken during the entire hike. Jace has followed behind him mostly in silence, as Jack and Kelly chattered away bringing up the rear. They had really hit it off, enjoying the other’s stories, having come from entirely different backgrounds. Breaker calls the halt by grunting and dropping his pack to the vegetation-choked ground. He swats at the mosquito cloud about him and pulls out a journal and makes quick notes of their location and travel, consulting a hand held GPS. (Global positioning system) The others shrug off their own packs snickering at him and drinking some water. Jack opens his pack and lathers on some more bug-dope. He drops it back into his open pack and pulls out a beer,
“It’s like, totally beer-thirty and shit y’all.” He says in excuse, “It’s noon some where.”
“Here, here,” Kelly adds motioning for one.
“And bring that bug-dope too.” Kelly says. Jack hands him both cans, then offers a beer to Jace. Jace smiles and takes it.
“And bowl-thirty,” Jack adds pulling out his pipe, fully loaded of course,
“Always ready . . .” Kelly laughs handing the repellant to Jace,
“That’s just the kinda brother I is!” Jack cracks up himself. He’s very good at that. Cracking himself up, no pun intended. Crack? Get it? Got it? Good.
“What’s so funny?” Breaker asks joining the circle.
“Your face!” Jack cries out laughing his ass off, alone. “But don’t worry,” He continues still trying, “Everybody gotta have a good joke to get them through life.” Silence.
“Oh snap.” Breaker says quietly. They all laugh and Kelly hands him the pipe and he hits it quickly and passes it taking the “Skin so melted” lotion from Jace, its the best mosquito repellent. They smoke together. Keeping themselves ‘clouded’ from One who is many. Little do they know.
They finish their bowl and their beers and stow the empties in their gear. Kelly stares off into the distance. Jack reloads his pipe, for later. Jace looks at Breaker suddenly,
“Did you call Terza?” Breaker shakes his head from side to side,
“You call Lyselle?” He counters,
“No.” Jace says, with more than some small hope, that Breaker will order a call home, and let him use the satellite phone, that Breaker always carries with him when out in the woods. Ever since his family’s deaths, whenever he is in remote country he will pack this piece of modern technology. Breaker believes that a Sat-Phone may have been able to save their lives, when they were reported missing on their flight from Petersburg to Pelican. One of his weaker beliefs, somewhere between Santa, and the Easter bunny. But one needs to believe, in something.
“Skip it, they’ll hear from us manana. Let’s roll boys.” Breaker says and begins to move up the ridge, taking point again, as the natural leader of the group. Jace is next, then Jack. Kelly brings up the rear attentively. He is looking for something, anything that he can shoot. So far, Game has been pretty scarce, even though they have followed many different game trails on the way in here, and he hasn’t seen much sign, either. This makes the small hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. But he doesn’t say anything. He merely smiles a smile, which reaches no where near his eyes. He steps forward suddenly and lifts the weight of Jack’s pack off of its straps, and into the crook of his elbow deftly. They both pause and smile at each other, resting momentarily before Jack continues on.
Breaker begins to lead them to higher ground. The way is still relatively easy going but the game-trails are becoming more and more, non-existent. But Breaker has a way of picking the path of least resistance, being conditioned hunter in every way. His steps seem without fatigue, a steady rhythm, methodical.
Suddenly he stops. The others genuflect behind him. He motions them to come up. They hurry up towards him, and soon huddle by his side. Breaker points into the distance. They all look out . . . and upon the S-shaped lake. And the day is only half-gone.
“Y’know,” Jace says to Breaker quietly, Jack and Kelly absorbed in lighting a fresh bowl, “I keep expecting to get this creepy feeling.” Breaker nods agreement, “Like someone is watching me, but I got nothing.”
“I know me too. But I got bub-kus.” Breaker concurs, “And I do know what you mean,” He says as Kelly passes him the pipe, “This is like a school field-trip.” He lights up and Jace nods.
“It’s, almost too easy.” Jace says and Breaker passes him the unit, covering it with the lighter as is his habit. He holds the smoke only momentarily, then he exhales.
“You, reading something here?” Breaker looks at Jace, who shrugs and passes the bowl to Jack. He looks back to Breaker,
“Calm before the storm, maybe?” Jace offers as Breaker takes a drink of bottled water. He drops the bottle in his open pack, and pulls his flask out of his inside pocket. He takes a drink off of it and offers it to Jace, who shakes his head negative. He extends the offer to the others. Jack snatches it up,
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Jack laughs and the others join him and their laughter rings out across the land. All of them are unaware of the lone Raven that sits high above, and to the east of them. It sits eyeing them intently, head bobbing, eyes blinking rapidly and clucking near silently to itself.
*
One who is many watches the invaders through the Raven’s eyes, and their motions flash across his holographic-mind, screen. Tuklan watches as well, but One is so enrapt on the scene of the invaders, himself, he has no idea of Tuklan’s presence. One who is many can see them passing . . . a pipe, a very small, and very shiny, pipe. Compared to his own pipe that is, but this tiny counterpart seems to be working just fine, for them. For their thoughts become farther and farther away from him, ever more and more, so clouded.
“FUCK!” One who is many cries out in his sweat lodge miles away.
“FUCK!” The raven suddenly caws angrily from its high perch above the boys. And all four of them look its way.
One who is many withdraws his awareness from the bird and it takes flight immediately, as they usually do once his invading mind leaves. Depending on the bird, of course, some of them never fly, or eat, or caw again.
One who is many, now sitting in his sweat, opens his eyes, and reaches for his pipe and smoke-pouch. If they were using smoke medicine against him, perhaps, he might be able to counter it, with his own. His face rips open with teeth. Like I said, he has a wicked smile.
Tuklan watches One as he smokes. He also watches the others. Those, lost souls that, with him, inhabit One who is Many’s subconscious mind. Their space becomes smaller everyday, as One grows stronger. His powers seem to be growing at an infinitesimal rate. Tuklan can even feel the very Earth quickening. The Gods will be coming back at long last. He must act quickly, in order to gain their favor, upon their arrival. He retreats back into the multi-mind, back to his, ‘jail cell’, with the other inmates. Most of them are completely mad, but they, are not without their uses. And they can be easily coerced, by his superior consciousness. Tuklan’s plan is beginning to take shape. He will strike on the Blood Moon. When One himself is vulnerable.
Tuklan smiles, but you can’t tell. He lacks a body, much less a face.
*
The boys all stand motionless and silent, watching the Raven fly away on its erratic path, and just like that, it is gone, and they glance about at each other. It’s Kelly, who breaks the silence first,
“Man, I could a swore that bird said, fuck.” he says.
“Dude, I know that motherfucker said fuck!” Jack cries with a one chuck chuckle. Kind of a sneeze, Kuh-hyeah!
They look at Breaker, then Jace, and then back to Breaker, a short tennis match. Breaker smiles,
“Fuck you, toooooooooooo!” Breaker sings flipping the disappeared Raven, the bird. Quite fitting really
“Should we follow it?” Jack asks.
“We’re pretty much going that way anyway.” Kelly says. Breaker nods lighting the pipe one last time,
“Burning daylight boys,” He says through clenched teeth. He picks up his pack, tossing it onto his back as though it is weightless. He smiles at them his, ‘get the fuck moving look’ and moves up the trail a bit to pause and look ahead with his field glasses. The others make all manner of faces at each other and stall a bit, but in the end they are just as anxious as he, so they hurry off behind him. Soon they are traveling up the trail again, same pecking order as last time, Walter, of course, still whining. Well, maybe not as much, as he has a pretty good buzz going. Kelly keeps looking to the rear and glancing about, three-sixty for something to shoot at, and he’s chewing his gum fiercely. Jace is scanning the berry bushes for berries; so far they have all been barren. He reaches for a bit of pre-peeled orange sections, and some trail mix, from the side pouch on his pack. Breaker is striding forward almost casually, his eyes focused as far ahead as he can see. He smiles. They are getting close. The energy is unmistakable. They will enter the circle soon.
Good times. Or have I said that?
*
One who is many summons the new Tribal Chief with a mental command. He enters the hut immediately, as he was lying await outside, for just that purpose. He sits opposite of the mad Shaman and quickly focuses his eyes into the burning embers that serve as the eyes of Du waak x’aan, the One, who is many. They stare at each other intently for a bit, the Chief’s breathing coming in short gasps. They only do this when One doesn’t want the hive-mind involved. This mission will require subtlety. This is how One who is many gives orders to his adopted people, who have long since given up on trying to resist his powerful, multi-dimensional, will. His new people, the Kushtaka, who inhabit the realm between life and death. Neither the finite, nor the infinite realm, and they have adopted One as their prophet, their messiah, their God. And they also know that their God One who is many, has a plan. A plan that will allow them to cross over into this plane, not but for a moment, but forever, his master plan. The plan that they will accomplish soon. All is in place, and when all is ready, the tribe and He will cross-over into our world permanently on the Blood Moon. Mere days away. Back in the hut, One focuses his orders in the Chief’s mind,
“Four of your best warriors,” One commands him, “Bring them to me.” The Chief obeys and leaves the smoke-hut. One knows exactly who he will bring back, but he must follow protocol. This is an ancient and highly ritualistic tribe. And sacrificing humans has never been new to him, as is the tribe. They love human sacrifice.
It’s delicious.
One who is many’s face explodes in pus-flinging laughter. I told you about this guy.
*
It is nearing early evening when they top the final ridge, and come out within sight of the S-shaped lake, Breaker stops and points to it, and he and Jace share a shit-eating grin. It is infectious and Walter and Kelly join them grinning like fools and not knowing why, Jack can’t resist,
“What’s so funny?”
“There.” Breaker points, “See that clearing at the base of the ridge line, leading up, near the tip of the lake?” They all nod even if they don’t see it, “That’s where we make base camp, just a day’s hike from the boat! Yes, exciting times!” With Breaker’s enthusiasm a giggle runs through them. Breaker hits his flask and passes it, “We should keep moving.” He says,
“Ease up Bligh!” Jack retorts, “We just got here, take five at least.”
“Sorry, I just . . .”
“No worries were feelin’ it.” Jack says handing him a fresh pipe-load, “Take green.” Breaker lights it and looks back to the clearing. Jace has the field glasses now. Kelly nudges Jack who looks at him raising his eyebrows. Kelly nods back the way they came. Back past the tall grasses and devil’s club that line what could scarcely be called, their trail. A large, black bird hops along the mud after them. It stops and eyes them silently.
“See that raven?” He asks and Jack nods, “Been following us for a grip now . . . ain’t cawed once. Never met a raven that didn’t talk.”
“Really?” Jack asks, Kelly smiles and shakes his weapon, “Okay.” Jack says and raises his rifle to shoot it. The bird literally drops out of his sights. Jack looks at Kelly sharply who returns his surprise, “Where’d he go?” Jack asks. Kelly looks back at the trail shrugging,
“It was like he just . . . melted into the ground.” Kelly looks back at him. Jack returns his wide eye and turns around to smack Breaker’s arm,
“Gimmie that bowl!” He says.
*
One who is many resurfaces into his own body. His own body, that is a joke! His original body was long since dust and ashes. He now resides in this hideous form, this stunted, asexual body. The Kushtaka have no sexes, or sex for that matter, hence the need to assimilate others from the outside, to populate the tribe. Assimilate; the primary concern of the outcast tribe.
Assimilate; at all costs. Assimilate, the world, if possible.
One who is many begins this remote viewing session as he does every time, in open eye meditation. He elevates his consciousness above himself, above the earth. His holographic mind scape once again unfolds before us and we see as he sees. The three-dimensional screen is black, but soon, comes the greenish tint, of the horizon, the surface of the planet. Red, and blue, and white dots and all other colors in between, begin to populate the surface of the sphere. We are seeing a representation of the Earth, and the lights represent people, like beacons leading the way to their souls. Souls, that One who is many desires. Needs, if he is to continue his goal of world domination, his, appeasement of the Gods. The red dots are those souls that are in distress, those very close to losing their lives, two of which are immediately within his control radius. Even though his control sphere is expanding exponentially, these two demand his attention, now. He locates and identifies them as two luckless boaters on a fishing trip, when the weather went foul on them. Then their open skiff capsized, and their electro-magnetic spheres became huge, red, calling out for succor, calling out to anyone, or anything, for help.
Help. Something, One who is many is only more than happy to supply. Help. Rescue. Assimilation. Enter freely of the tribe and enter of your own free will.
One who is many sends a messenger to those in distress as they float in the icy cold waters clinging to whatever they can that is still aloft, one in a life vest, the other struggling to hang on to a near empty jerry jug of gasoline, the fumes of which are making him nauseous.
Hallucinogenic. He sees a boat, a large canoe of sorts. On board is an old friend, extending his hand.
He eagerly takes it not realizing that this old friend is dead, and in that tiny omission of will, he is assimilated, forever, into the tribe. Next his friend takes hold of the next hand offered to him, so two more souls enter into the limbo, the realm between life and death. The point, that gets breeze from both sides. And they couldn’t be happier.
For the moment. One who is many is pleased. We’ll skip the graphic description this once.
*
Three hours later, we find the boys at the clearing. And they are charged like the Fourth of July, which is over, in case you were paying attention. It’s about eight-thirty pee em, the witching hour in like, ‘Salem’s Lot, Maine. But here, it’s a beautiful dry, southeast Alaskan night, which is rare for the rainforest.
“This is perfect.” Breaker says dropping his pack and begins to untie the tarp rolled at its base. The others lower their burdens, and scratch their nuts and whatnot, waiting for Breaker’s lead. Breaker frees the rolled up tarp and kicks it out, revealing a shot of drag web within.
“What’s that?” Jace asks.
“You’re about to find out.” Breaker says pulling his climbing spikes out of his pack and begins strapping them to his extra-tuffs. “Kelly.” Is all he has to say and his deckhand is preparing with him; they’ve been on many hunting trips together these two. He grabs the web and rolls it out and begins to insert two rods on either end. He lashes them in quickly and ties on the lead-lines. Jack approaches him,
“What the fuck you making, man?” He asks.
“You’ll see.”
“Now don’t gimmie that bullshit.” Jack says and Kelly laughs,
“Our bed,” Kelly answers.
“What!?!” Jack exclaims.
“Like he said, you’ll see.” Kelly continues as Breaker finishes his straps and takes the lead line from him. He approaches the nearest tree and begins his ascent.
“Now what the fuck?” Jack says.
“Jesus do you ever shut the fuck up?” Jace shoots at him.
“Motherfucker I don’t think you appreciate the fact that I am armed.” Jack shoots back.
“Yeah but I appreciate the fact that you suck!”
“Not like yo mama I know.”
“Oh you fat fuck!” Jace launches himself at Jack and they go down to the canvas.
“Children!” Breaker cries from the tree, they freeze. “Could you knock off the grab—assing for just one moment and give us a hand?” They look at each other.
“Yo, fuck you Bligh were just trying to have some fun.” Jack says irritated now as he and Jace let loose of each other and climb back to their feet from the spongy, muskeg scrub, “ Y’know you got us out here in the middle of bum-fuck-Ethiopia with a buncha fuckin’ soul-stealin’ Kushtaka and shit! And you don’t give a fuck about nothin’ but yer fuckin’ plan and yer fuckin’ gold! You don’t give a fuck if we all die and shit, so why don’t you just get the fuck offa me!”
Silence.
Breaker regards them all a moment from his lofty perch in the tree, and pulls the flask from his pocket and opens it taking a drink. He caps it and returns it to his pocket then looks at Jack impassively,
“I ain’t on you,” He says, “That comes tonight.”
“Ooooh.” Jace cringes.
“Man, fuck you!” Jack says.
“Exactly,” Breaker replies and pulls out his cigar tin. “Ethiopia?” He asks.
“Well y’know Egypt was full that day.” Jack replies.
“Just like you,” Breaker lights his cigar, “Full of shit.”
“Man I will fuck you like Exxon!” Jack shoots back. Breaker recoils in his tree perch nearly losing his stogie. He looks skyward closing his eyes.
“Oh you did not!” Kelly exclaims.
“Dude,” Jace says, “Not cool.” Silence again.
*
One who is many sits back in his lodge. He has never seen the anything like these invaders. At times they are ready to die for each other, yet remain at one another’s throats. He can tell by the intensity of their electro-magnetic wavelengths. What types of emotions sweep through them? They are unlike anything that he has ever encountered.
A chill of fear runs through his system, an unwelcome emotion.
Yet, he may be starting to like this. On the physical plane he literally pisses himself, but does not notice. Ya gotta love this guy.
*
Breaker lowers his head and feels as though he has to piss; He denounces the thought and opens his eyes. Jace, Jack and Kelly stare back at him from the ground. He smiles and says,
“Enter of your own free will.” They all react, in different ways. And an Eagle cries as if on cue.
You wish.

Haha! God I love this story!

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Ku’cta’qa: The Legend of the Bay of Death part two chapter one

I skipped the intermission and went straight to part two, so we are on the way to the bay so have fun with it and comment and follow please

PART TWO
Chapter One
Jace and Walter step off the plane wearing shades and carrying their attitudes close to the chest. You can’t tell but Walter is excited enough to shit himself, and Jace is scared enough to do the same. They seem so, indifferent. They must be high! Or drunk! Most likely both. They stroll right on through the terminal and straight on to Breaker, who is waiting outside. He had told them that he had everything taken care of and true to his word, they were set. Breaker meets them alongside his rig parked in front wearing shades of his own. But on a cloudy day you can’t see them. But they hang over him, just the same.
“Look at you Hollywood fucks and your sunglasses, on a cloudy day,” He jokes, “Can’t see shit but you do look cool.”
“Whattaya mean,” Jack counters, “I can see shit, I’m looking right at it.”
“So funny . . . . even in death.” Breaker replies in monotone.
“Dude that’s fuckin’ creepy knock it off.” Jack says and they laugh and greet each other properly. They do the small talk thing until they get their shit, then on the ride to his house Breaker goes through his plan.
“We’ll drop your shit at my place and meet Kelly down at the boat.” He starts, “Wait until you see the shit we got set up, and our plan is awesome. We’ll go through it on the boat and then we go out to tie one on, what say?” General assent, “Loose and pliable,” Breaker says, “That’s the secret boys, loose and pliable.” They pull into the Breaker’s driveway and park. Breaker ushers them right on by the house and down towards the dock only pausing to put their stuff in the porch.
“Nice digs, Break.” Jack says.
“Grand tour after business boys, Kelly’s waiting.” He waves them on. “Put your bags there, we’ll get them on the way back in.” Breaker seems as excited as a schoolboy sneaking into his first ‘R’ rated movie. They hustle down the dock and jump aboard the cruiser and they get to play with guns and drink beer for about an hour. Then Breaker brings out a chart of Thomas bay. He spreads it out over the table and begins to trace out their route to the bay, and also where they will anchor, “Then we follow this creek back . . .” Breaker starts.
“That’s the same one I followed.” Jace says and they all look at him, “Well, I’m pretty sure it is. I grew up on the boat too, I can read a fucking chart” They all look back to the chart quickly.
“Right,” Breaker says and continues, “from everything I’ve read about this area, the vein lies somewhere up in here.” He traces a circle with his finger on the map and taps the center of it.
“What else have you read about the area, Break?” Jack asks, Jace and he exchange glances,
“This for starters,” Breaker hands Jack a small pamphlet sized book. The Strangest Story Ever Told is the title, by Harry D. Colp.
“Oh fuck not this thing!” Jack exclaims.
“You’ve read it?” Kelly asks him.
“Have you?” Walter shoots back.
“Yeah,” Kelly says.
“And you want to go there?” Walter asks incredulously. Breaker and Jace are silent watching the conversation unfold.
“Why not,” Kelly answers with a laugh.
“Y’all fuckin’ crazy man, this is the bay of death, motherfuckers.” Walter states icily. Kelly shrugs,
“What I got to live for? Death? Taxes?” Kelly shrugs, “At least this’ll be an adventure. Maybe we’ll see something that no one else has ever seen before.”
“Your fuckin’ A,” Breaker agrees and raises his beer. Jace and Kelly join him. Walter regards them a moment,
“See,” He says, “Y’all fuckin’ crazy.” He raises his beer, “So I guess, we all crazy together.” They all hoot and holler drinking their beers down.
*
One who is many is riding high now; everything is working exactly to plan. They are near now, and they are coming back, of their own accord. That is key; they must enter the circle of their own free will. And they will. One smiles ever so slightly, its only a matter of time now. All will be as he has foreseen. They have only but to tread, in the path that he has so carefully lain out for them. One who is many turns his attention to the otters now, it is time for them to begin their pilgrimage. Those that are farthest away need start to the den come morning, and then the next wave will join them, and the next, until they all arrive at the den. Just in time for the blood moon, and the first of the crossovers.
There is no stopping it now. The wheels are in motion.
It’s do or die, for all of them. And sure as shit, they’re all in.
*
The boys crowd the end of the bar at Kito’s Kave, drinking beer and tequila, and smoking various forms of tobacco. Breaker and Jace lean against the bar face to face engrossed in conversation, and Jack and Kelly are shooting pool, getting to know each other, because they would have to trust each other with their lives, and these two are the only ones who haven’t known each other for years. Jack lights a cigarette while Kelly racks them up.
“So how’d you get talked into this?” Walter asks him casually smoking his cigarette.
“Shit you ain’t gotta talk me into free gold.” Kelly replies pulling the rack away expertly and grabbing his cue, He motions towards Jack’s pack of cigarettes on the bar, “Mind?”
“It’s all you bro.” Jack says chalking up for the break, “I take it,” He continues, “that you’re not buying into this whole Kushtaka thing?” Kelly snorts sarcastically while lighting his cig,
“Little guys who change into otters and shit? Please.” He says exhaling smoke.
“Or someone you know?” Jack fires back.
“Or it might imitate the sound of running water, to lure you deeper into the woods,” Kelly mocks, “In case you’re thirsty.”
“Or maybe sound like a lost baby, crying in the woods,” Jack jokes in the same tone, “You should help it.”
“Never, go to the baby.” They both say in unison cracking up.
“Shit ‘cher all right.” Jack says breaking the rack with a loud crack and the balls bounce about the table, all of them avoiding the pockets perfectly, as though that’s what they meant to do. He scowls and motions to the open table, “But you still ain’t answered my question.” Jack presses as Kelly walks around the table lining up a shot. He glances at Jack,
“I guess we find out.” He says shooting the shot, without looking back at it. And the ball drops in. Ker-plunk. He smiles at Jack.
“Now who the fuck are you Tom Cruise?” Jack exclaims.
Back at the bar Breaker and Jace are holding a shot of Patron each,
“All right now look me in the eye.” Breaker orders, “And don’t look no where else,” He jabs two fingers at his eyes, “That’s it, now drink normally.” They slowly raise their glasses and down the shots like lemonade, never once breaking eye contact, “You see?” Breaker asks,
“No shit,” Jace answers, “I barely felt it.”
“Baby-bro lost his training wheels.” Breaker slaps him on the back, “WHOOOO!” He shouts out attracting the bartenders attention, “Set ‘em up again boss.” He motions to the empty glasses, “And those two yay-hoos over there as well my friend and keep the change.” Breaker drops another fifty on top of the pile of money already on the bar. The bartender smiles and hurries up with fresh beers and shots. He could pretty much call his own tip. But he loves Breaker and would never do him more than a twenty. Shit Breaker alone will be responsible for half his take home tonight. Back down the bar Breaker faces Jace, “Okay where were we?” He asks honestly,
“Wrangell General,” Jace answers quickly.
“Oh yeah,” Breaker remembers, “so’s he turns to me, and he reaches out, and he touches me here”, He reaches out to pat Jace on the chest, “And he says he says . . . you, and I . . . we speak from the heart.” He pulls back reaching for his beer puffing on his hand-rolled cigarette. Jace sits mesmerized,
“No . . . fucking . . . way.” He says quietly.
“Way.” Breaker says hitting his beer.
“That . . . is just too much.” Jace says grabbing his beer.
“My thoughts exactly.”
“He actually said, I, was dead-meat?” Jace looks at him openly.
“In so many words, but only if you don’t go back to face it.” Breaker answers, “But I says no fucking way!” He grabs Jace by the shoulder, “I says to him, I says, we’ll handle this like we handle everything. Together.” He smiles at Jace rubbing his shoulder. Jace swallows hard and Breaker pulls back,” Now don’t go waterin’ up on me now, heah.”
“Fuck you.” Jace says and Breaker stands,
“Yet—uh,” He grunts, “I gotta piss.” He slaps his little brother on the arm and heads for the can chuckling to himself. He strolls into the restroom and pulls up to the urinal pausing to read the wall above it.
‘I FUCKED YOUR MAMA!’ Is emblazoned in huge letters above the pissers.
“Hmm,” He says, “Okay then.” He chooses a urinal and unbuttons his pants, and let’s fly. He hears the door swing open and looks around at it. Jack.
“What’s up skip?” He asks and Breaker nods to the wall above him. Jack reads it, “Nice.” he says sitting on the edge of the sink, “Tell me bro, where did you meet this Kelly character?” Breaker shrugs,
“Came walking down the dock one year looking for a fishing job, we hit it off and he turned out to be the best damn hand I ever had.”
“Cool, he is an all right cat,” Jack agrees, “Seems trust-worthy, he shoots a mean game..”
“He shoots a mean moose too, there a point here Jack?” Breaker asks over the sound of his piss stream, Jack nods,
“I’m just,” He pauses changing tack, “I just can’t help wondering . . . are we going over there to find gold, or are we going to find these . . . Kushtaka things?” Breaker glances at him, then back down to shake the last few drops of piss from his dick,
“Both.” He says and buttons up his fly. He turns to face Jack, holding his hands in front of him patiently.
“Oh, sorry,” Walter says and jumps off the sink. Breaker steps to it and washes his hands and grabs a paper towel. He looks back to Jack raising his eyebrows, what now? “You think we got a chance, man? I mean to come out with the gold?” Breaker sighs, then shrugs,
“Guess we’ll just have to find out hunh?” He tosses his towel in the trash and walks out.
“Right,” Jack snorts and says to his back, “You been helpful.” He looks up at the message on the wall above the pissers again. ‘I FUCKED YOUR MAMA!’ and he pulls a sharpie marker from inside his jacket pocket. He steps up to it and writes ‘ Go Home Dad, You’re Drunk!’ beneath it. He recaps the pen and pockets it as he walks to the door, “That’s good advice pops.” He says aloud laughing as he takes a piss.
They close the bar and take a cab ride home. Inside they gather in Breaker’s cedar paneled living room, which is immaculate in its feng shui, everything in perfect order, the bookshelves, the paintings, the entertainment center, the stuffed and mounted animals and fish on the walls and the furnishings right down to his glass-top coffee table that he had put a chart of the area under years ago. He brings out a tray of munchies from the galley, and drops a six-pack on the table. He rounds up some shot glasses and a bottle of tres generations tequila. He pours the shots and reaches under the table for his cigar-tin. Everyone grabs a shot and they raise their glasses,
“To gold,” Breaker states,
“To gold,” They all chorus and down their shots.
“Mmmmmm!” Breaker says as he pulls a joint from his tin, running it under his nose, as one would a fine cigar,
“Look it ‘choo stone-head.” Walter laughs rolling over to his side on the floor. Breaker smiles and shrugs handing the joint to Kelly who sparks it immediately. He hits it deeply and passes it to Jace,
“Speaking of gold,” Kelly says looking at Jace through a cloud of smoke, “Heard you found a chunk?” He asks. Jace freezes.
“Yeah,” Breaker knifes through the tension before it can build, “What do you think Jace? Everyone else has seen it.” Jace nods and hits the joint. Breaker opens the drawer under the table and pulls out the idol-nugget. He tosses it to Kelly, he, wants to see, if he can see it. If he can see the idol that is, or will it just be a nugget to him.
Kelly snatches it from the air and holds it up between thumb and forefinger, in front of them all. Walter leans in for a closer look as Kelly turns it around and round. Jace and Breaker relax back sipping beer and smoking weed in that order. They have both seen enough of that evil little rock. Breaker puffs on the joint, passing it to Walter, who hit it absently passing it to Kelly, who does the same passing it to Jace. They are looking at the nugget intently, as though they are trying to break its code. Breaker laughs at them and pours more tequila and then he sips at his beer. Finally Walter speaks up sitting back,
“Man, am I fucked up or does that thing look like . . . a squatting little fucker . . . biting down on a hand . . .”
“Coming out of its mouth?” Kelly finishes for him. Jace nods at Breaker,
“Looks like it’s dropped the façade,” Jace says.
“What?” Jack asks, “What’s dropped the facade?” Breaker merely shrugs,
“‘Cause . . . were coming back,” Breaker raises his glass, “Back,” He repeats as they all grab another shot and raise it.” To Thomas bay.” They all drink again. You would think they’d be more fucked up by now.
*
Breaker awakes first and after drinking some much needed water, he goes out to his studio, letting the others sleep in. He prays silently for the protection of every living creature on earth, like he has for every morning for as long as he can remember, and stretches out each and every one of his muscles in a practiced routine as he prays, and then begins his workout. He starts with stance as usual, back and forth and back and forth across the floor in what is actually a very tiring movement. The Jeet Kune Do sliding shuffle, keeping the feet close to the ground as to preserve the balance and protect the centerline; it goes on for many minutes. Then he moves on to blocking, covering the four gates, the four windows of attack that an opponent can strike at you from. He crab-walks back and forth across the floor sweeping his hands about him in multiple blocking combinations, back and forth, and forth and back often turning to go from normal and south-paw stance. To confuse the opponent, this time for about twenty minutes Then finally, he moves on to striking. He moves to the large hanging bag and begins to pound on it mercilessly, throwing kicks as well as multiple combinations, flying up to it with a knee, then back to the pounding, it’s really quite impressive for an older guy. He’s been conditioning for years now. He stopped measuring his running in miles now, he goes by hours. But he’ll skip the run this morning, to tend to current business. Finally he stops and wipes the sweat from his face. He sets out two wooden dummies and begins to go at them with his wooden swords. He slices, and slashes, and generally smacks the living shit out of the canvas and wood structures for about half an hour, before dropping the wooden swords and unsheathing his real ones. He prays again, out loud, and in other tongues than his own. He begins to swing them about slowly in a well practiced routine, never touching them to the dummies, they are far to sharp for that. The minutes stretch on as he dances about the studio, steel flashing. He becomes caught up in the moment, his movements natural, almost casual, in their deadly precision. After a bit his movement slows considerably. Now he is winding down, until his ballet seems to stop slowly. Soon he sheaths the blades and drops to the mat to stretch and pray once more. And just like that, it’s over, as quickly as it began. He wipes his face with a towel and downs a bottle of water in one pull. He bows to the four directions and snags up his blades and heads in to the house to shower up. Inside Kelly is making breakfast and Jace is drinking water and loading a .45 clip. Walter is twisting a fattie. Breaker smiles immediately,
“Looks like we gotta fine team,” He states with a laugh, “Be right out.” He says to Jack and shoves his sheathed katanas in the corner of the couch. Walter nods to him; obviously he wants him to wait on sparking that Jay so Walter finishes rolling it and sets it on the tray. Breaker goes to the master bedroom, and to the bathroom in it, to shower. Jack gets up and walks over to the corner of the couch and picks up one of Breaker’s swords. He slides it out of the sheath slowly, smiling at Jace.
“Ho-lee fuck,” Jack says and Jace motions for the other one. Jack pulls it out of the couch and tosses it to him, and Jace slides it out ever so slowly,
“Wow.” Jace whispers. Suddenly Walter aims his blade at him, Jace stands up-right wielding his weapon right back at him.
“You,” Jack says accusingly, Jace feigns innocence, “You have dishonored my family . . .” Jack explains
“And you,” Jace shoots back twisting his blade for emphasis, “have dishonored a Shao-lin temple.” He replies in his best Chinese movie voice over.
“But you,” Walter shouts, “have dishonored yourself, I saw you last night.” He makes a jerking motion on his sword handle.
“Oh! Now you dis my honor!” Jace cries and they face each other with both blades held high, “Prepare to die!” Jace says,
“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” They both chorus and rush toward each other slowly, in mock, slow-motion battle. Every time their swords are meant to clash they add their own sound effects and pull them back never making contact. They know better than to nick Breaker’s swords, he’ll kill them. Then Walter, acting as though he uses his free hand to block one of Jace’s swings, yanks his hand back up into his sleeve,
“AAAAAAAA!” He screams into his sleeve hole, “Nooooooooooooooooo!” He drops to his knees.
“Luke,” Jace does a good Darth Vader, “I am your father.”
“Fuck you daddy!” Jack squeals and slashes wildly at him.
“Whoa!” Kelly cries from the galley doorway, “Careful now.” He rushes into the room having enjoyed the show thus far, but they were getting a little close for comfort. Those are the skipper’s prized possessions, a gift from his Japanese fish buyer. Distracted, Jace’s blocking swing nicks Walter’s wrist and blood flies,
“Ouch! Holy fuck that’s sharp.” He nearly drops his sword. Kelly bounds forward and snatches the blade from his hand.
“Son,” Jace continues on in Darth-speak, oblivious, “You’re . . . such a pussy.”
“Dude,” Walter looks up grinning, “Look at this.” He holds up his wrist, blood flowing freely.
“Holy shit,” Jace steps back giggling nervously.
“We better put these away before Breaker comes out.” Kelly suggests wiping the blades down with the shirt he’s wearing, he looks for traces of blood on the blade.
“No shit.” Jace agrees and they re-sheath the katanas. Walter goes to the kitchen sink to rinse his cut and wrap a wad of paper towel around it. Kelly continues his cooking.
“Damn that shit smells good Kelly, when’s chow call?” Jace asks.
“Soon as the skipper comes out,” He says, turning down the burner.
“Cool.” Jace says opening the fridge,” Guess I’ll have me a little breakfast beer-ito, until then, heh-heh.” He says and pulls out a beer.
“Me too, yo,” Jack calls to him cradling his wrist.
“Make it three.” Kelly nods in agreement.
“Fuckin’ alkies,” Breaker says entering with a towel around his neck, “gimmie one too.” He looks at Jack, “Sharp blade hunh?” There is a single nanosecond of silence, before all laugh out loud, Walter and Kelly a bit nervously albeit.
“Let’s eat.” Kelly says changing the subject swiftly. They eat in the galley standing around holding their paper plates, sipping beer and talking shit. They toss the empty plates and go out to the front room and sit about, and to smoke that jay and talk a little strategy. Jack grabs up one of his swords on the way in,
“You like, I take it.” Breaker asks him.
“Fuckin’ A,” Jack admires the blade.
“Me too,” Breaker grins and raises the other blade, “A present from Sakamoto San, my Japanese buyer. After I hand delivered him a load of cured salmon eggs that I had put up all year. The local market fell to shit and I didn’t know what to do with them so I made an unexpected present of them to him, and he was so moved, that he gave me these blades, from his private collection, after having the ivory insets with my initials on them installed, see them?” Breaker showed them all the insets.
“Damn, he gave these to you?” Walter can’t believe it.
“Yeah, on my last trip to Nehone . . .” Breaker says spinning his blade expertly around, “Nehongo Skoshi Hanasi Masu, I speak a little Japanese.”
“Me too,” Walter says, “Beedu,” He points at his beer,” Beedu o i shi, dis, Beer is delicious, that’s all I need to know.” They all laugh and Jack lights the jay thinking Boy, we been gettin’ pretty fucked-up up in heah. Then again, considering where they are going, it is probably the right thing to do. They all look over the Swords and smoke, and drink, and talk, a bit more. Until,
“When we headed out skip?” Kelly asks.
“Couple hours,” Breaker responds, “Tide should be just right by the time we make the Mouth of the Bay.”
“Sweet,” Kelly says.
“We need anything?” Jace asks, suddenly nervous.
“Nope,” Breaker says taking the jay from Jack, “We loaded for bear,”
“We got beer?” Jack asks, holding his smoke.
“Now who the fuck you talkin’ to?” Breaker shoots back.
“My bad,” Jack exhales, coughing.
“No bad, I woulda asked too.” Breaker says and hits the jay and passes it.
Best laid plans of mice and men. Scant hours later we find them standing at the counter of Hammer and Wikan, buying a bevy of items, and licenses, in other words, all of the things they forgot. They had left Breaker’s boat tied at the end of the very dock we found Jace on, earlier in our yarn. The same one that Breaker was just on, as well. Remember the shit bucket story? Sure you do.
As they walk down the dock, they come across the very piss-pot that Jace had stood by earlier, looking at the for sale sign with no interest. With the same snot-in-beard fuck that Breaker and all had laughed about in the Harbor Lights. He is out on the deck, busy scrubbing his dishes in a familiar, salty-looking bucket. He rinses his cup out, with the water in the bucket, and then dips his tooth brush in the cup, and starts brushing his teeth.
Breaker watches stifling a gag and covering his eyes, he hustles forward trying to get away from the scene.
“Yo, slow the fuck up.” Jack says, but Breaker would have none of it, and pulls his bile out, and hot puke hits the surface of the water next to him.
“Man what the fuck?” Jack looks at Jace. Jace can only shrug. Breaker stops and full out hurls over the edge of the dock. The others rush forward and flank him either side. “What’s goin’ on Break?” Jack asks. Breaker shrugs them off gagging again. He shakes his head and grabs them both, moving them down the dock. He will tell them about it at the boat.
The trip to Thomas bay is short, but not uneventful. Jace has time to tell his story. They all sit up on the flying bridge and he tells them about the Howlin’ Wilderness saloon, and how he came into possession of the idol, and how it came into possession of his mind. He told them about the bay-bum and how it emerged from his nightmares into his reality,
“That’s the guy you saw me with that night you . . . ran into me, downtown.” Jace looks at Walter, “Did you get a look at him?”
“Not really, I was too busy running you over,” Walter says, “and when I looked back at him . . . he . . . was gone.”
“Yeah, he does that.” Jace looks at Breaker, “That night you took the idol,”
“Yeah?” Breaker asks.
“I swear you were him, that’s why I freaked so bad, it wasn’t you, it was him!” Jace looks away, and out, across the water.
“I believe you bro,” Breaker reassures him, “I’ve been hearing this strange laughter ever since I took that thing.”
“That fucking laughter!” Jace cries in agreement.
“That’s not all.” Breaker says, “I’ve seen . . . something. It interrupts my sweat.” Breaker tells them about his sweat lodge encounters. They all ponder that as Breaker brings the cruiser through the narrow mouth of Thomas bay, timing the tide here is crucial, so no one speaks as they cut through the pass. Breaker motions to Jack with his empty beer, and gives him his, ‘One more before we get there’ look, Breaker has a lot of looks. Walter smiles and goes to the back deck cooler to fetch a couple coldies. He pauses and looks out over the bay, and hits his pipe one time, before lifting the cooler lid. He keeps his thoughts on the gold. He isn’t even going to think about the Land-otter-man. The one thing that he really knows about them is that. Don’t think about them, and you won’t chum ‘em up.
Back up on the bridge Breaker surveys the bay as they approach the anchorage that he had chosen. There is a large house built on the southwestern shore and it has a set of pilings out front. Smoke pours from the stack on top of the huge structure. Breaker looks at Jace and Kelly, with his I think we might be too late look, in other words, disappointment.
“I know, you expect like, spooky, mist covering the rolling hills and what not.” Jace says.
“Yeah,” Kelly nods, “I didn’t expect an all out settlement.”
“I think it’s, like a farm,” Breaker says, “or some shit like that, but, were going that way, anyway.” Breaker points in the opposite direction. “Much spookier over there.” he says without conviction. The others look the way he had indicated. Not much different. “Trust me,” Breaker says pulling back on the throttle a bit and looking at Jace, “It’ll get better; you think you can hack dropping the pick?” He asks him. Meaning drop the anchor,
“I can back her down for you.” Jace answers.
“Good, that’ll work.” They go about anchoring the Boat. After that they launch Breaker’s Scow and Outboard. “Plenty daylight left,” Breaker assures them, “more than enough time to go to the beach and maybe scout out a camping spot.” The midsummer night in Alaska is still a long way off from retiring. They all grab a light pack with the essentials, beer, and weapons, and ammo, and a little food too, maybe a bottle of water.
The hike back into the woods is fairly uneventful, they hike and drink and smoke and talk, not caring in the slightest how much noise they are making. Jace guides them back further, hopefully to the spot that he had found the idol, to the ‘Howlin’ Wilderness’ Saloon. He hopes there might be some trace of it. And won’t that be freaky.
*
One who is many sits in his lodge. His body does anyway; his awareness is high above his physical form, and floating on the cosmic ether. He watches the invaders as they move forward, on the grand Holographic Theater that is his mind. They each have a different color about them, a different feel to their power cosmic. One who is many is excited and afraid all at once and a hundred other emotions in between. He forgot that physical form is weak with emotion, but he uses his discipline to overcome them. He laughs and projects his awareness hurtling back to the earth below, back to his waiting body and the nightmare, which is his current existence.
But it won’t always be like this. One who is many has a plan that involves each one of the invaders in their own special way.
Once back in his body he stays in the trance-like state. He sends a messenger to look upon the invaders with real flesh and blood eyes.
An otter materializes up and out of the ground, just out of eye-shot of the boys. It seems to ooze out from the mud of a semi dry creek-bed. It shakes its fur out, and changes into the form of a raven just as quickly and flies off, to find the invaders from aloft. It takes but mere moments for it to spot them. It swoops down and alights upon a branch, just above the boys. It’s rapidly blinking eyes scrutinize each and every one of them, as they pass under it not seeming to notice its presence. The raven clucks to itself softly.
Miles away One who is many sits before his fire and clucks to himself, sounding identical to the bird.
*
Jace stops and looks about the creek bed.
“Yeah,” He says, “This is it all right, but it’s not in here, it was right, over, there.” Jace points out where the ‘Howlin’ Wilderness’ saloon should be, “ But there was more of a clearing here.” He says and Kelly walks back into the scrubby area that he was talking about, and he begins to root around in the brush.
“Beer break,” Walter says and pulls his pack from his back, lowering it to the ground, rummaging around in it. Breaker looks about at them and pulls out his cigar tin. He glances at a nonexistent watch,
“It’s about four-twenty boys,” He pulls a jay from his tin and snaps it shut. “Chop, chop.” He lights the joint and passes it to Walter, “Jace.”
“Hmm?” Jace says absently. “Oh.” He snaps out of it and walks over to take the jay from Jack.
“Yo! Kelly, break-time,” Jack says and Kelly appears out of the woods and approaches them silently. He takes the joint from Jace and hands him a chunk of wood. It looks like a jagged piece of ancient, worn out sign.
“Aygh!” Jace cries out dropping the chunk of wood and he jumps back from it like it is a live rattlesnake. Breaker picks it up and looks at it. He turns it over this way then that. He stops and studies it. He smiles and holds it toward Walter and he can see worn out, ghosts, of letters. An H, then most of an O, part of what looks like a W, and perhaps the tip of an L . . . that is all one can make out,
“Howlin’ Wilderness,” He says. Breaker and Kelly nod in unison. Jace looks up to the sky. He sees a raven flying high over head. He looks back to his friends,
“My hit,” He says.
*
Back at the boat they prepare to bed down for the night. They’d sleep here tonight and then pack their outfit in to the campsite, about an eight hour hike back, on the ‘morrow. They hadn’t walked all the way back to it yet, but merely spotted it from a vantage point, up the ridge-line. They had looked it over with the binoculars pretty good. They spotted the s-shaped lake and the crescent lakes as well. It was the mineral slide, that most interested Breaker. He had made calculations and notations, on his chart, while on the ridge, and then they had double timed it back to the beach, with Walter lagging behind and bitching all the way. ‘This ain’t funny motherfuckers’ He had yelled at them all the way.’ You ain’t leaving me here!’ Of course they wouldn’t have left him, but they didn’t let him know that.
Good times.
Breaker finishes up his bunk and steps out on deck. Jace is out there too, at the rail taking a piss. Breaker does the same on the opposite side setting his beer on the rail. The night is still and the water of the bay is glassy calm, broken only by their streams of urine and phosphorus, a free floating element in saltwater that gives off luminescence when struck. Jace marvels at the glowing water, just like he did when he was a kid. He finishes pissing and buttons up his drawers,
“What’s up bro?” He asks. Breaker shakes his head still pissing. Jace goes on, “I just can’t believe I’m out here man, un-be-fuckin’-lievable.”
“I feel ya.” Breaker says,” Its great. I feel . . . calm”
“Me too man, I mean . . . I got no feeling of impending doom or nothing.” Jace agrees.
“I know, it’s like . . . it was,”
“Meant to be,” Jace finishes with him, “I missed you Break.” Jace croaks, overcome with emotion, and he embraces his brother from behind forgetting that he is still pissing.
“Easy now,” Breaker says, “You shouldn’t hold me so tight, when I have my cock out.”
“Augh!” Jace cries out, recoiling back to the deck. “Sorry man.” Jace says as Breaker finishes up, and belts his drawers.
“It’s okay.” Breaker says hugging his brother, “I could use a hug too.” After, they stand on the deck, looking out, into the twilight silently, just like they did, oh so many years ago.
“It’s beautiful.” Jace says finally.
“Peaceful.” Breaker agrees, “Can’t be a less spooky place in the entire world.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
“I gotta good feeling about this.”
“Me too,” Jace smiles, “You think we’ll find it? The mother lode that is?”
“Bet yer ass we will.”
“And what about them?” Jace implies, but doesn’t name.
“The less said the better; chances are we won’t even see them.” Breaker winks at him. That is wishful thinking.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Jace’s smile fades out, confirming Breaker’s theory.
“You crazy fuck I knew it, you’re only here to see them.”
“It’s . . . not all that, hell; I want my life back too.” Jace says without any real conviction.
“Well, as long as were confessing things, there’s one or two that I need to get off my chest, it’s about the last time I talked to Dad before the crash.” Jace reacts noticeably but says nothing, allowing Breaker to continue, “It was the last time I saw him before we went out fishing, and you know, when they went down . . . and he confessed to me that he’d been diagnosed with cancer, lung cancer, Mesothelioma. Which is basically a death sentence. They had given him six months.”
“Dear God,” Jace says. Breaker merely nods, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me.”
“I figured he’d tell you himself.” Jace sits back, “And when he didn’t tell you I didn’t see any reason to . . . until now”
“What?” Jace asks, “Is there more?” Breaker shakes his head,
“No,” He says, then, “well, I always thought that he shouldn’t have flown them out there himself, being in his condition.”
“Oh you can’t have thought . . .” Jace tries to say,
“I can and do!” Breaker screams out, “And that’s not all, you’re not the only one who’s had dreams lately, yeah, I saw exactly how they went down. Mother fucking old bastard had a seizure, and crashed my family right into the lake!”
“You can’t know that.” Jace says, near watering up again, the pussy.
“But they survived the crash,” Breaker is looking down into the water and near whispering now, “That I saw too, and now you know who’s got them?” Jace starts to reply, but freezes realization dawning upon his face, “That’s right, you think I came all the way out here just for you, as much as I love you bro, I’m here for them.” Jace deflates noticeably and stares down at the water, blankly.
“Come on,” Breaker says, rubbing Jace’s shoulder. “It’s not really like that, I’m here for you too aren’t I?” Jace can only nod lamely, backing down to him like he has his whole life. “We better hit the rack,” Breaker says, “morning comes real early around here, you know that.” Jace smiles with equal lameness and looks at his brother,
He’s right, He thinks to himself, I am lucky Breaker is here. They go inside the boat together.

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Ku’cta’qa: The Legend of the Bay of Death chapter ten

Beginning on the 4th in Wrangell this is the most important chapter of part one. The worst part is that all my indentations are lost when transferring from manuscript to bloscript, oh well, hope you don’t mind and enjoy…

Chapter Ten
The Fourth of July celebration in Wrangell, Alaska is in full swing and Breaker and Terza are in the thick of it, having the time of their lives. She had shown up on this morning’s flight as a big surprise! Breaker’s cousin had talked them both into the log rolling contest but they had both had a little too much tequila in them to do much, other than have a good time, which they are. After being eliminated they go back to the cruiser to sit on the back deck grilling shrimp and drinking margaritas and watching his younger cousins rip around on his jet-skis until they are totally wiped-out. After that the back deck party moves to the street dance. Where Breaker actually goes up on stage to guest with the band and he sings the classic ‘Symphony of Destruction’ by Megadeth (just to impress Terza, and it actually works by God.) and the party is back, once again, in full swing. The last thing on his mind is his brother Jace.
Or his, ‘Idol’ for that matter, which is locked up safely aboard the ‘Saltheart’, out of sight, out of mind, is Breaker’s policy regarding it now.
After the band calls it in, Breaker and Terza wind their way through the three bars in town and end up at the boat, where they make the best love of their short lives.
Too bad it won’t last.
*
The following day finds them both back up the Stikine River at the post-fourth hangover party, where everyone drinks their way past the hangover stage and right on into the next drunk. Except for your designated boat operator of course, wink, wink, nudge, nudge say no more. We come across them upstream of his Cousin Jobee’s float house at the hot tubs, chillin’.
Breaker finishes his last beer and turns to Terza,
“Baby?” he says to her in her ear ever so quietly.
“What baby?” She whispers back to him smiling. They are in the “baby” stage of their relationship,
“I gotta run for more beer,” He kisses her.
“Get the tequila too, baby.” She kisses him.
“I so love you.” He kisses her again.
“I love you too, hot-ass.” She kisses him and crawls down his throat, virtually. He finally breaks free, much to the relief of everyone else present as they were beginning to become turned on just watching, and he jumps out of the tub, covering his chubby deftly with his Hawaiian wraparound.
“Baby?” Terza calls to him,” Can you roll me a smoke while you’re out?”
“Fuckin—A baby, I’ll be right back,” He turns away from the tubs finally before it gets to smooshy, and trots down the narrow boardwalk, back down to their river scow. He arrives just as another jet-boat pulls up. He recognizes it immediately,
“Roon-dog!” Breaker cries out, Rooney returns his smile and Breaker reaches down for his bowline and quickly ties his boat fast. He shakes hands and hugs up Rooney’s little brother, and then embraces his old friend before he can strip off his mustang suit. They chug down a beer in race, just like old times, then they shoot the shit a while as Breaker rolls his smokes. Rooney goes quiet a moment and Breaker looks at him, raising his eyebrows, the unspoken question, what?
“Heard you been asking about Kushtaka,” Roon—dog levels his gaze on Breaker, who stops what he’s doing and nods nearly imperceptibly. Rooney continues, “To tell you the truth, I can’t tell you anymore than what we all, already know, (pause) except . . . there was something that happened in town recently that might interest you.”
“Oh yeah?” Breaker bites.
“Oh yeah,” Rooney sits back and dips a chaw, “Some old guy come up outta nowhere, and he beaches his home-made canoe, out at Petraglyph beach last week.” He pauses and spits. Breaker stares enrapt, Roon-dog continues, “Had himself a broke leg, so they took him on up to the hospital and patched him up a bit, had to let him stay cause they didn’t know what else to do with him.” Roon-dog pauses again.
“Really?” Breaker cracks a beer and takes a chug.
“Ye-t,” Roon says, “funny thing though’ . . . say he don’t speak no English, just the old language.”
“Tlingit?” Breaker asks, Rooney nods, “How the fuck’s that possible?” Rooney shrugs and spits again,
“He kept repeating, Du waak x’aan, Du waak x’aan . . .”
“Do walks on?” Breaker says, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My cousin says it means, his eyes, red fire, or some shit like that.” Rooney explains.
“Really?” Breaker lights a smoke thoughtfully.
“And that’s not all,” Rooney says, Breaker merely spreads his hands, “they say, he mentioned, Ku’cta’qa . . . . twice.”
“Fuck me!” Breaker exclaims.
“Maybe later,” Rooney smiles complacently, “Better ask the old lady first.”
*
Jace wakes slowly. He smells food cooking and it is ambrosia. His senses are overwhelmed, as though he hasn’t been using them for a long time. He sits up suddenly, looking about quickly, memories flooding back into his mind in no particular order. He remembers Thomas bay, the ‘Howlin’ Wilderness’, the bay-bum, Lyselle, and getting high. His expressions mirror each of these memories with the appropriate emotion.
Then he remembers the idol!
His hands snatch at his neck suddenly,
GONE!
That rat-fucking bastard Breaker! The memory of his thievery floods into his mind to encompass all others, but Jace, knowing he can do naught, flops back to his pillows, whining out,
“Fuck!” to the empty air.
*
Breaker is at the Wrangell General Hospital the next morning. He approaches the front desk and asks the day nurse about the old man that floated up. She gives him a funny look,
“Any relation?” She asks.
“Distant.” Breaker replies.
“Right . . . Bray . . . kwaith?” She says.
“That’s right,” Breaker says with chagrin, “How’d you know?”
“He told us,” she answers quickly, “his name is Bray-kwaith Stokes.”
“His name is Brae’quaithe?” Breaker asks incredulously, he thought she was talking about himself.
“That’s what he said, do you really know him?” She looks at him squarely.
“I . . . think so.” He can only say lamely. She looks at him for a bit, then back at the document on her desk, making notation,
“You can usually find him down by the end of the hall this time of day,” she motions over her shoulder, “Name?”
“Hmm?” Breaker asks.
“Your name please?” she repeats looking up at him.
“Brea . . . ker Shekan.” He replies not giving away his full name, for some dumb reason.
“Bray, ker..?” She glances past him a moment, then back to her form, “You must be related.” She says flatly and goes back to her paperwork. He takes that as a dismissal and makes his way down the hallway of Wrangell General. He can see the old man at the end of the hall already (it isn’t that long of a hallway) he sits in his wheelchair looking out the window, dressed in hospital gown and robe, leg propped up in a cast. Breaker can’t see his face yet. He pauses for a moment to try and gather his thoughts, what should he say to this old man, who seems to share his name? He had been thinking that over until the nurse told him they went by the same moniker. That seems to have changed everything. He searches his head for dialogue. Nothing is coming. He has da-nada, bub-kus. Wait, Rooney had said the old guy spoke Tlingit. God, he has to know something, oh . . . wait, that’s it. Breaker steps forward,
“Waa saa ee tu’at ee?” Breaker calls out behind the old guy . . . the other Breaker, the old man Brae’quaithe. Breaker has just asked him how he was doing in the only Tlingit phrase that comes to mind. The old man Brae’quaithe turns to Breaker and smiles like he has known him all his life, his entire face smiles at him, his eyes, his mouth, his nose, his chin, his eyebrows . . . his countenance entire. Breaker smiles back feeling it himself. The elder man motions for the younger to sit beside him in the chair beside his wheelchair, in the sunlight.
“I’m fine.” The elder says as the younger sits. “As . . . fine as I can be my relative, and you?” Breaker laughs quietly in relief, apparently the guy does speak English.
“I’ve . . . been better.” Breaker says in answer.
“Hmm-Hmm-Hmm . . .” the elder muses.
“So . . . you are my relative?” Breaker asks.
“Aren’t we all . . . relative?”
“Please,” Breaker says, “no riddles.” The elder man chuckles once, a one chuck. He smiles at him, and looks at him for a time, the smile slowly fading away.
“You look just like my old uncle Brae’quate.” The old man says suddenly.
“So, it is a family name?” Breaker asks.
“Aye,” The elder nods once in agreement. Breaker’s jaw hangs open slightly in astonishment, “Aye,” The elder repeats pointing at him, “he looked just like that, aaaaah.” he mocks and Breaker snaps his mouth closed and giggles lightly, the elder’s mirth is infectious.
“Aye-ee,” The elder says again, he had a way of dragging out his Aye’s, a sort of an, Aayyyy-yyyeeee that kind of rolls along forever . . .”You look just like uncle Brae’quate did, when he was a kid, I saw, a photograph of him as a young man once.” The elder pauses and raises a finger for effect. “And yer the spittin’ image.” He laughs out loud once again, his abrasive old man’s cackle. Breaker sits back in his chair is head rushing.
“But enough of that,” The elder reaches out to grasp his arm lightly, “I’m sure you’ll want to know about it, where is it at?” The old man holds his free hand out, palm up, beckoning. Breaker can feel the idol warming in his pocket. The old man’s fingers grasp about the empty air like an alcoholic for a bottle, or a junkie longing for a needle. Brae’quaithe can do naught, but draw the idol from his pocket, and drop it in the old man’s, yearning hand.
“Aa-uchgh!” The elder seems to growl lightly at it. He rolls it in his palm once, then twice, “Ku’cta’qa neck-dressing, no doubt.” He says, and Breaker swallows a lump in his throat, “Who found it?” the elder asks, “Its mark is not upon you.” Breaker’s mouth opens without a sound, “Who?” Again the elder asks.
“My . . . brother,” Breaker croaks, nearly inaudible.
“Aa-ugh!” The elder growls again, “And where is he? Here?” He looks about dubiously,
“No.” Breaker answers, “He’s in Anchorage.” The elder looks puzzled,
“Which, anchorage is he anchored at?” The old man asks, not fully understanding.
“Uh . . . not an anchorage but a great city, north of here,” Breaker says sounding stupid and condescending to himself.
“Aa-uggghhh!” The old man growls again tossing the idol back to him. Breaker catches it deftly. “And are they speaking to him?” The elder asks. Breaker nods,
“So, I’ve heard.” He says quickly, no sense in holding anything back now; this meeting may be the only thing that can help him.
“Aa-ugh . . . then he is dead.” The old man says flatly.
“NO!” Breaker cries out. The elder glances back down the hall sharply,
“Easy . . . easy, now,” He says,
“There must be something I can do.” Breaker pleads with him.
“Just, carrying the messenger can make you susceptible to it.” He points a finger at the younger man of the same name.
“Bullshit!” Breaker hisses without much conviction. The elder regards him a moment,
“You would risk yourself?” He asks, “For him?”
“And more,” Breaker says,
“Or is it for someone else?” The elder man asks, silence . . . then, “So I see . . . you must return to the bay of death, he . . . must face his fears, and rid himself of this, messenger, toss it back into the pit of it’s origin . . . then, and only then, if he is strong enough . . . will he be free of it!” the elder finishes directly.
“The bay of death?” Breaker asks.
“Aye, the place where he found this thing, the place where it all began.” He answers.
“Why is it called the bay of death?”
“For that we must go back to the beginning . . . Back long before the Europeans first arrived. Back then, in the place that is now called Thomas bay, it was known as the Bay of Death, because a huge landslide wiped out over five hundred tribal natives.” He pauses to look out the window, “What they don’t tell you, is they were the Kusaxa kwaan, a tribe of cannibals, and that landslide, it was no accident. It was shortly after the arrival, and departure of the Spaniards. Not only did the Kusaxa kwaan, the renegade tribe, eat the people of other tribes, they were ruthless in all ways. Enslaving people wantonly, even some of the fierce Haida, who were known to be great slavers. As the cannibal tribe grew stronger, their hunger knew no bounds, they even began to change, physically, through interbreeding, and idol worship, they became short and squat, hairy and muscular, and they matted their hair and file sharpened their teeth. They were a growing nightmare, and all the other tribes of the southeastern Taiga knew something had to be done before they grew too strong. All of the other tribes stood together against them, and with the help of a great shaman’s medicine and the secret of explosive powder of the Spaniards, they caused the entire mountain to fall down upon the Kusaxa kwaan, and rub them out, from the face of this Earth. We thought we were safe, but little did we know, the cannibals had joined the ranks of the land otter man . . . the Ku’cta’qa, the changelings, the immortals of ancient myth. And now they live forever, between the realms of this world, and the next, and they step into our world at moments, and steal our children, our families, our loved ones, such is their revenge.” The old man pauses in his soliloquy to look back in Breaker’s eyes, “And now they’re after you, and yours.”
It becomes crystal clear to Breaker now and he nods enthusiastically, knowing exactly what he must do.
“We’ll do it!” He states with icy, grim resolve clenching his fist about the idol, “We’ll go there and we’ll do it together!” The elder nods with him sitting back in his chair, and Breaker reaches out and they clasp hands,
“It still gets me,” the elder says.
“What?” the younger asks.
“How much you look like him.”
“Uncle Brae’quate?”
“Aye,” The old man retrieves his hand and sits back.
“Tell me uncle,” Breaker starts, the elder regarding him with inquisitive eyes, “I know my name, our name, means something . . . I’ve known it all my life, I mean, I feel, it must mean something . . . do you know what it means, the name, Brae’quaithe?”
The old man stares at him for what seems like a long time but really isn’t at all.
“I don’t know,” The old man shrugs, “I think he was named after a white man.” Meaning his old uncle Brae’quate, of course, Breaker sits frozen in his seat and the seconds stretched on.
Suddenly they both burst into laughter. After many minutes they subside and laugh again. They sit and regarding each other for quite a time, then Breaker embraces the elder Brae’quaithe and asks him on last thing,
“Tell me uncle,” He says, “why is it they tell me you don’t speak English? Why did you deceive them?”
At this the elder looks at him in astonishment,
“I don’t!” He exclaims.
“But I don’t speak Tlingit . . . so, how?”
“Maybe . . .” the old man says, “You and I . . . maybe, we speak from the heart.” He reaches out to tap Breaker’s chest lightly as he says this.
You can almost hear the eerie flute music.
Almost.
*
There once was a powerful hunter, a monster of a man who lived by himself and hunted every type of creature that ever crawled the earth. He hunted every day taking much more than he needed because he enjoyed the slaughter, and the blood, more than anyone could ever remember. He was so fierce people began to call him ‘Wolverine man’ because he was so blood-thirsty, and it was easy for him to kill any other animal, because he was so tough, and he never gave up. Soon he became so powerful he no longer could satisfy his bloodlust on the animals, and he turned to humans. He started to kill and eat people. Many tried to stop him but his power was too great. And the tribes became smaller and smaller, feeding the Wolverine man’s lust for blood and flesh. Because of his cunning and savagery, none could defeat him, and the tribes lived in fear.
Finally a young shaman came forward, just a boy really, but he was said to be the re-incarnation of a powerful shaman named Teet tlenx’. The boy shaman took his attendants into the woods. Teet tlenx fasted for eight days eating only the bark of the s’axt’ or devil’s club, drinking only saltwater.
After that time a Ku’cta or, Land otter came to him, most powerful of animal spirits, even over the bear. So Teet tlenx begged Land otter to save his people from the savage Wolverine man, who even now was slaughtering and eating anyone that came near his hunting grounds. Soon, Land otter said to him, take my tongue, and tie it up in devil’s club and cedar twigs as an amulet. Then go to the Wolverine man’s hunting grounds, and when he attacks, don’t be afraid, let him come right at you, and as soon as he is close enough, you must strike him with this charm, and if you do this, he will be undone. And that is what Teet tlenx did, and when the savage wolverine man came at him he did not look upon him with his eyes, lest he become frightened and falter away from his task. He just felt his energy as it got closer and closer, until he was so close that Teet tlenx struck him with the land otter tongue charm, and the Wolverine man shattered apart into a gigantic cloud of mosquitoes, that flew off, along the four winds, to the four corners of the Earth. And with them they brought the bloodlust.
And in that wise, is how the mosquito came to be.
And Teet tlenx’ became the powerful shaman he was destined to be, his name meaning, powerful wave or ocean swell . . . perhaps, Breaking Water.
*
One who is many sits in his lodge, in vague frustration. His messenger is no longer with his mark, but with the other. The one with blood power, the strong hearted one, even now the messenger is with him, as he conspires with another of the blood power. One can feel him. Who is he? And more importantly, what does he know? Could he possibly pose a problem?
One who is many shrugs off these concerns and turns his attention back to the game, the rest of the other infinite elements that make up his plan, he merely has to play it better than them is all. In that, he is supremely confident.
*
Breaker sits alone on the flying bridge of his cruiser, Terza is below deck, napping, and Kelly had flown back to Petersburg already, so he’s running the boat back home to Petersburg solo. He is nursing a beer and a hang-over. Apparently the feel better beer was not kicking in. He begins to rub his temples, slowly, methodically. An idea comes to him. He sits up and looks about conspiratorially, and after he is satisfied the coast is clear he pulls his cigar tin from his jacket pocket and removes a hand rolled joint,
“Time for a bit of a ceremony,” He smiles to himself and lights the joint deftly inhaling deeply. He holds the smoke only a moment then releases it, coughing lightly. “Hang-over cure . . . do your thing.” He whispers and hits again. He sips his beer and watches the water. His thoughts return to his conversation with Jace, just before he left Wrangell. After he had returned from talking to Uncle Brae’quaithe, Terza tells him that his cousin called saying they had an emergency message from his brother Jace. He should call immediately. Breaker laughs aloud when he hears this, but he hustles his ass up to the top of the dock anyway. He hates cell phones and refuses to use one. But he wants to talk to Jace too. He tells him the whole story, of his meeting with Uncle, and everything the old man had said, nearly verbatim. Jace is virtually silent during the whole story, right up to when he tells him what they have to do,
“Fuck that!” Jace says, “There ain’t no fucking way I’m going back there! Shit you got the idol now, it’s your problem.”
“Had any bad dreams lately Jace.” He regrets that reply.
“No,” Jace says quickly, “But you will.” Breaker almost feels sorry for him, but he continues on as though he hasn’t even heard Jace, knowing that the mark of the messenger was upon Jace and Jace alone, “I got it all figured out . . .” Breaker goes on about his big plan to return to Thomas bay and find the vein, the mother lode, the pay-off, the big score, and the dream of all mother fucking dreams! At least that’s what he tells himself, he knows they are all gonna get fucked by the Kushtaka. But he has a little score to settle now doesn’t he?
“Just you and Jack be on that plane,” He tells Jace, “Kelly and I will take care of the rest, I’ll see you in two days. Oh . . . and Jace,” Breaker pauses for effect, “Get some sleep.” Jace laughs half-heartedly at the weak attempt at humor. Breaker smiles and hangs up.
Much like he was smiling right now, as he hits his joint again. His thoughts are of gold and Thomas bay. In that order, he doesn’t even think of the Kushtaka.
That would be bad luck.
*
Kelly Poplar sits at home in his basement shooting range, cleaning his arsenal of weapons. He listens to def metal as he does so, ever so fitting.
We don’t know how he came to live in Alaska, yet. It was back in High school in Montana, Kelly is a senior and has all types of shit going for him and the Navy is the farthest thing from his mind. Until he gets home from school and his Dad has torn apart his basement room and found his dope garden and stash. He remembers the exact look on his ex-cop father’s face.
The old man doesn’t say a word, he just beats the living shit out of Kelly. After which, he scoops up all the evidence to burn it.
“I’ll expect you out when I get home.” He says on the way out. And that was the last they ever saw of him. He joins the navy, then the Seals, now Alaska.
And we know Kelly a bit better too.
Now he looks at his life as one big adventure movie. Growing up in Montana hunting and fishing, killing is his nature born and bred. It continues in the navy seals, as a sharpshooter, underwater demolition expert, platoon asshole, you name it.
And he thrives upon it. It is his life eternal. Now it’s all about to come to climax, the final act. He smiles and reassembles one of his mini fourteens in record time. Next he checks his powder to see how much more he would need. The skipper had called him.
They are on a mission for gold. Kelly laughs aloud and draws his sights on his farthest target. BAP-BAP-BAP! Spat the rifle as he disintegrates it.
“Let’s see a Kushtaka hack that.” He says to the rifle.
*
Jace sleeps in blissful depth. He doesn’t even feel Lyselle there, cuddling him, cooing and stroking his hair. He does not dream at all. Save for a few snatches, a few visions of his long dead parents. Not the old evil ones, but the new, good ones. He misses them so.
He doesn’t even feel the tears as they fall from his eyes.
*
Back in Petersburg and at home, Breaker calls Kelly as soon as Terza is away, and he comes over and they go to work. They load the boat with their outfit, food and camping supplies, prospecting equipment, metal detectors, their explosives and ammunition. They will load the hardware tomorrow. After their guests became familiar with what weapons they will carry. That being done they cook a huge dinner at Breaker’s house of . . . you guessed it, fresh halibut. A quarter ton! Remember?
After dinner they are talking,
“So you’re saying that Alaska won’t get any of the natural gas?” Kelly asks incredulously, the doubt loud in his tone.
“Fuckin’ A,” Breaker replies with equal emotion, they are in mid-argument, “Just like the last pipeline, son.”
“Right, you were like five?”
“I remember it distinctly, virtually all of the jobs went to people from out of state. They were supposed to keep two refineries open here in state, so Alaska would always have cheap gas. Fuck, the first thing they did was shut them down! And now I’m paying three fucking plus a gallon for diesel, here, where the oil comes from! And you think a gas pipeline is gonna be,’ good for the state’? Your fucking kidding yourself buck-o, all them trillions will get piped right the fuck out just like the oil! Did you know that if they paid the natives of this land like they pay the Saudis that each Alaska native would be like a, multi-millionaire? That’s right, but it was far easier to fuck them out of it. And that’s what the land claims act did, fuck them out of it, their true birthright . . . but don’t get me started”
“Sounds like you start yourself,” Kelly says, “but that’s just your opinion . . .”
“The fuck it is!” Breaker states icily, “Mark my words, that gas is already history, we won’t see a hell of it.”
“I’ve got to hope your wrong,” Kelly laughs and Breaker merely shrugs, “But seriously, what’s the story with your brother?” He asks Breaker sincerely.
“I was wondering if you were going to get to that. He’s still coming, if that’s what you mean?”
“No, I mean, is he bug fucking crazy? Like all those other fucks in the book? The ones from the gold rush?” He asks rapid fire. Breaker laughs smiling,
“Easy now, Let’s not start any rumors,” Breaker states calmingly, “He’s been dreaming some strange dreams, and hearing voices and shit like that,” He is being completely honest about this he wants to tell Kelly everything that he knows about the bay of death, so he goes on, “Which doesn’t add up really, as far as Kushtaka mythology goes anyway. You see, in the Kushtaka creation myth, Ku’cta, the modern tongue bastardization is Kushta, or land otter was Raven’s favorite of all other creatures because he was such a great fisherman and always had plenty of fish to feed to Raven, and we all know that Raven is all about the eating. So he says to Ku’cta, land otter, you will make your home on a point, that get’s breeze from both sides, and when people capsize in their canoes, you will go out and save them, and make them your friends, and that’s how Ku’cta’qa, land otter man, came to be.”
“I don’t get it.” Kelly admits it freely. Breaker smiles and continues,
“Think about it, symbolically and not literally, like you have to with any mythology, The point, that gets breeze from both sides, is the point between this world and the next, a limbo-like state, the breeze from both sides means those that live on the point can pass into our world, and into the next, but they can’t stay there, they must return to the point, and any that go there with them cannot leave, they don’t make ‘the journey’ to the next world, but are stuck there, in stasis, not immortal, but un—mortal. They are neither good nor evil, just, ever, assimilating into the tribe.” The silence sinks the point home. They look at each other.
“Man, yer fuckin’ crazy.” Kelly says and they laugh for a bit. “I still don’t get it.” He says again, “What’s that mean to us, I mean, what can I expect to see? Do you have any idea?” Breaker shrugs,
“They say they posses the power to look into your mind and see someone you love and trust, and appear as that person, to you, a changeling, with human and otter form, perhaps other animals as well.” He nods and looks away.
“Fuck.” Kelly says, “Can we kill them?”
“We better fuckin’ hope so.” Breaker says. Kelly smiles and pulls out his cigar tin, he’d smoke one on the way home. He also takes out a fattie boombalattie as he calls a huge joint, and hands it off to Breaker.
“Mien skipper, yahwol,” He says knowing no German whatsoever, “Time for me to go home, I gotta bang the shit outta the old lady y’know, she’ll be back by now.” He stands and Breaker smiles and the tap each others knuckles together and after he leaves Brae’quaithe prepares a plate for Terza and does the dishes in silence, enjoying the quiet. He puts Terza’s covered plate in the fridge and reaches for a beer. He pauses.
“A sweat is what I really need.” He whispers to himself. He closes the refrigerator door and goes to his room to change, switching on the lodge sauna as he walks by and scant minutes later we find him inside the sweat going through his rituals. He smokes, and he remembers. He remembers those he has loved, and those he still does. He lowers his breathing and listens to his heart beat, always the beginning, with him. He slips ever inward, inward, then,
They begin to appear around him, his family, his people, his mother, father, his wife and . . . his child.
He smiles. They smile back. A bit too much he thinks immediately. They begin to change before his eyes.
Their teeth go sharp before him, glistening with saliva in the faint light, then gnashing, slavering, their eyes burning red sulphur,
They lunge at him in unison,
Breaker recoils backward, violently, tearing through the light canvas exterior of the sweat lodge, wrenching his neck and slamming down to the wet grass of his lawn, screaming and thrashing about. He can almost feel the hellish hands of, the anti-family upon him. The cool grass and air calm him. He subsides, as the falling rain brings him back.
Back to reason.
“Oh you rat bastard,” He says to the rain, nodding. “I’ll see you soon.” He goes inside and grabs that beer after all.
*
Ku’cta remembers.
Even though his friend Raven had now named him Ku’cta’qa, he will forever refer to himself as Ku’cta, the only name he has ever known, and right now Ku’cta is curious. He is at his new home on the point.
The point that gets breeze from both sides, in other words a pleasant place, often cool and he can see the world entire on this side, and the next world, on the other! Ku’cta grins to himself, for what good, is it to see, the next world? For no one has even crossed over, at this point in time, no one has ever made the journey to the next plane, but yet, there it is, Ku’cta can see it just as plainly as he can see this world, our world. He thinks it’s funny and that this must be one of the things he can do, now that he is Ku’cta’qa. He must remember to laugh at Raven next time he sees him for granting him such a worthless boon.
Little did he know that he would see them begin to make the journey, soon. Everyone. Most would pass right on by not even seeing him. But others would see him. Especially those in dire fear for their lives, like Raven said, those who capsize in their canoes, you will save them and make them you friends.
The first time it happens it is a solitary man, luckless enough to be caught in foul weather, as the southeast Alaskan coast can change on you in under half an hour, from sunny and calm, to howling a thirty-five southeaster, with rain flying sideways. The seas can build on you real quick and then, you are in big trouble.
Exactly what happens to this young man, but Ku’cta notices him immediately because he is so close, to the point. Ku’cta jumps in his canoe and rushes out to the man’s succor, as even now he is capsized and overboard, treading water. As Ku’cta approaches, the man can’t see him yet, as he has his head turned the other way. Ku’cta sets down his paddle to grab the fellow, and the man finally turns as Ku’cta is reaching out to him. The man’s eyes bulge out of his head upon seeing Ku’cta, and he strokes backward mightily in the water, as to escape Ku’cta’s grasp, at all costs, the man literally pulls himself down underwater, drowning himself, if only to just to escape Ku’cta. Now, Ku’cta is sad, and just like that the waters are calm again, and Ku’cta can see his own reflection in the water. He looks different, not like himself at all! He is hideous! He is now much larger, his head, his arms, legs, body. His hands, his face, so, Qa-like(man-like) . . . Then he remembers, He is now Ku’cta’qa now, land-otter, man. He is so misshapen it is no wonder this young man would rather drown himself as to be saved, in his, monster’s grasp. Ku’cta reaches down into the water, and pulls the young man’s lifeless body back up to the surface, and Ku’cta’s eyes well with tears, as he looks at the other’s lifeless eyes. For there, deep within them he can see who the young man had hoped might be there to save him, it was an older fellow, an obvious ancestor of the youngster,
“If only Grandpa had been there,” Ku’cta can hear his voice even, whispering in his head, “he would have saved me.” Ku’cta lowers him back into the water so his spirit might make the journey after all, and catches another glance of his own reflection once more.
Ku’cta starts again, as his reflection is not that of his own. This time he appears exactly like the young man’s Grandpa! If only he had looked like that just a moment before, he might have saved the young man and he could have lived here on the point with Ku’cta forever, and then it dawns on him, this must be another of Ku’cta’qa’s powers, the ability to look into the person’s mind, and see someone they love and trust, and appear as that person to the one in distress, and therefore he can, ‘make them his friends’.
Ku’cta watches in silence as the young man’s spirit leaves his body and drifts across his point, to the next world. Ku’cta smiles bitterly . . . next time, he will know better, what to do.

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Sooth Alaska: Lessons in maintaining your cool points when you visit Alaska. (Like you have any)

Rule 5)

Do not come to Alaska and ask, “Do you have a pet seal?” Why? Because my pet seal swam away when I was a kid, I was devastated. I never should have named him “Slippy”! So no, we don’t have pet seals! Because they will break your heart as soon as look at you! Save yourself and your heart, don’t love a seal, unless you want to put your heart on the endangered list! Wait are seals endangered? No, oh… well don’t love a seal unless it’s a Navy seal, haha! SEAL TEAM SIX OO-RAH!

Ku’cta’qa: The Legend of the Bay of Death chapter 9

When I first created these characters I knew they would go off on weird little “lives” of their own but even I had no idea how bad it would get. Now you know too. We near the end of part one with,

Chapter Nine
Breaker awakes to a solid head. It feels as though it is made of concrete, so slow is its molecular movement. His mouth is coagulated and dry, and he can barely move his tongue, which feels unbelievably hot. He peels his face from the dried saliva on his pillow-case and coughs up a mouth load of nicotine. He coughs again and struggles to open his encrusted eyes so he can find a place to spit out this vile mouth load. He realizes that his eyes won’t open and he finally has to wipe them clear with both hands. The air is so smoky and thick and he has absolutely no i-fucking-dea where he is. Rarely is he ever this disoriented, or this hung-over, especially with a mouth load of loogie, but this, it seems is one of those rare occasions, he spits the mouth load to the side of the bunk finally, and it lands in the corner quietly, hitting the wall before the deck.
“Fuck.” He mutters to himself and pushes himself up-right. He glances about feeling entirely lost. Where the fuck is he? And more importantly, which way does he go to take a piss? He leans over the bunk’s edge and realizes that he is on the top bunk, far above the floor. The place would be quiet if it weren’t for two sets of snoring people, one louder and one quieter. Breaker’s eyes adjust and he looks about. The walls are full of pictures and antlers and all manner of gear and clothing. Then it all comes back to him, the trip up the river, the float house . . . which is actually more of a hunting cabin than anything else. He laughs, “Sweet.” he whispers sarcastically,
“Hmm?” Kelly mumbles, across from him on the one of the other bunks.
“About fucking time,” Breaker’s cousin Jobee says from the table, smoking and sipping coffee, “Get yer lazy asses up and we’ll jet to the tubs.”
“Since when do you go to the tubs?” Breaker asks sitting up and swinging his legs out of his sleeping bag.
“Since yer ass fucking stinks, let’s go.” Is Jobee’s nonchalant reply and he sips at his coffee noisily.
“Right,” Breaker nods at Kelly as he focuses on him, “You heard the man.” And they pull out of their bunks and begin to get ready.
“And rinse yer spit out of the corner.” Jobee says, and they glance at each other again, and laugh slightly.
*
Jace hasn’t changed position much, except to go to the bank and cash a several thousand dollar check. He bought Jack out of shit, again, and sent him for more. He tries sketching to pass the time, but everything he draws something; it begins to look like the idol. Short, squat, evil, hand protruding from the mouth, even when he tries the characters from “The Human Race is rigged!” they look sinister and foreboding, and, and they look hungry. Jace gives up and goes to the T.V. Every time he takes a hit he scans through all of the channels looking for something remotely sexy. Then he moves on to Jack’s private collection of DVD’s picking only the ones with women stripping and dancing, or women on women. He thought about jerking off but he didn’t feel like it. He would rather just watch. Watch and smoke. Smoke and forget. Forget what? He doesn’t know.
Then it must be working. He laughs aloud, then he loads another hit. He would wait a while before he lit it, but just knowing it is loaded, re-assures him somehow.
Sleep is a distant memory, far, far away.
*
Just then Lyselle is calling Breaker, well, his voice-mail anyway, Breaker is way out of range.
“Hey,” she starts,” Just calling to say hi . . . see if maybe you heard from our Jacey-boy,” She says trying to sound as casual as possible, having no idea how much Jace hates that nick-name,” I haven’t been able to get a hold of him for a day or so now..” She trails off like a practiced actor, and it has actually barely been a day, “Anyhow, give me a ring when you get this, okay? Love you, bye.” She clicks the call off and dials Jack, again. I tell you once you get her started, she just won’t quit, as we shall see.
*
Jack peeks into the back room and Jace looks up from the computer screen at him raising his brows, Jack points to his cell phone,
“Lyselle,” He lip-syncs, but doesn’t say out loud. Jace screws up his face and sits back shaking his head negative. Walter covers the phone and, “What the fuck you want me to say?” He asks quietly,
“I don’t know; tell her, I went to . . . Fairbanks.” Is Jace’s weak excuse.
“Weak.” Jack says.
“No, Seward!” Jace tries.
“Even weaker, I like Fairbanks better.”
“Talkeetna, camping!” Jace says in triumph.
“She’d find you there.” Jack recoils.
“Not if I flew out to Denali,” Jace smiles slowly. “To work on the new book.” They all know Jace dreams of writing a book about Alaska one day.
“Right,” Jack returns his slow smile, thinking quickly, then turns and clicks on his phone, “‘Selle, what’s up baby?” Jace waves him out. Jack scowls at him and closes the door irritated, “No, he said he was going to go camping up Denali way . . .” Is the last thing he hears Jack say.
Jace loads his pipe and looks back at the video screen, drawing in a quick breath. He is starting to become paranoid that Lyselle might come over and find him here. Hell, she just called, so he takes his hit and packs up his shit. When he feels cool enough to drive he leaves to check into a hotel room,
“What now, homo?” Jack asks him as he creeps into the front of Jack’s double-wide.
“I gotta get out, y’know, in case she comes by,”
“Dude, why do you give so much a fuck?” He asks incredulously, “You got your pick right now.”
“I just rather she didn’t know about all this shit.”
“I feel that, then.” Jack says. Subject dropped, with no questions. That’s why we love Jack.
“I’ll call you when I get settled in, and need some more shit.” Jace says.
“Whatever.” Jack replies, “You’ll call before then, but will I be here?” Jack winks at him and stretches out the moment as long as he can, until, “I doubt it.” He says without conviction. Jace just smiles and makes his break for the door,
“Wait.” Jack says.
“What now?” Jace asks exasperated. Jack gets up and walks over to him,
“Before you go you need a couple things.” Jace just looks at him arching his brows. Jack grabs a pair of shades from the shelf by the door,
“Motherfuckers leave these here all the time.”
“Dude, I got mine in the car . . .”
“These are for the walk, to the car, I had to park you down the street last night, and it’s daytime now.” Walter can be insistent when he wants to. Jace acquiesces. “Also, you’ll want one of these.” He hands Jace a cigarette. “You should smoke that right here before you go; it’ll clear you up a bit.”
“Right,” Jace says and takes the cigarette. Jack lights it and says,
“You could probably use a beer too.” He walks to the fridge and Jace sits down at the table.
He is right of course, and they talk a bit before Jace leaves.
*
Breaker and Kelly are on the way down river in Jobee’s scow, he has decided to jump a few beaver dams on the way down and the boys have a hella fun time thus far.
“I love this fucking river.” Breaker yells out every time they jump a dam or a bar. They turn and burn down-crick with the top down today and all hands are having the time, all hang-overs are distant memories. They make their way down to the mouth, to catch the tide out before it gets to low.
Then they hit a submerged stump that shoves them right up on sandbar.
“Get the fuck out and push or were gonna be stuck here all night ‘til the tide comes back!” Jobee screams out over the dying outboard. They all dive out and try shoving on the semi-beached craft. They give it all they got and can’t free the scow to the deeper water just scant inches away. Breaker looks up the beach to a small drift log,
“Kelly,” He cries pointing at it and running to it. Kelly follows suit and they snatch it up and hustle it back to the scow to try and lever it off the beach. Jobee gets the idea and they all heave to . . . and the scow inches to the water before the leverage point gives out and they have to reposition it, then heave again. They scow moves forward a miniscule bit closer, and the sand gives way. They position it again and heave, but this time the boat barely moves, the tide is dropping so fast,
“Chainsaw winch,” Breaker says to Jobee. “Quick!”
“And tie to what?” Jobee says holding his arms out. Breaker looks across stream,
“You got your waders?” He asks.
“Breaker,” Jobee says looking at him until he looks back, “You can’t make it across there . . . were fucked ‘til the tide comes back.” Breaker knows he’s right, but,
“Bullshit, we can still make it.” He motions to Kelly and the lever and they line it back up and heave on it over and over until they finally snap it in two. Jobee, who had walked up the beach long ago laughs quietly at them.
“Fuck!’ Breaker screams out, “I hate this fucking river!”
Jobee laughs again, but not so loud as Breaker could hear.
*
It is a full day later when Jace finally calls Jack for some more shit from a semi-seedy downtown hotel room, but Jack doesn’t answer. He gets message AKG 43. And that freaks him out. He is getting tired, and sleepy. So in desperation, he goes for a walk downtown, to see if he can score from a street-walker. Jace stumbles through the streets nearly sleep-walking, now he is so exhausted.
Sleep. He laughs at the thought of it, literally on the verge of tears. Sleep is a sweet temptation, a distant dream. Every time he is on the verge of nodding out the disembodied voices in his head gain real, physical forms that he can see. That he can smell and feel! Albeit in his sub-conscious mind only, as far as he can tell, but if you have the sub-conscious mind, you have it all. Their myriad arms would wrap around him with claw-like hands digging into his yielding flesh and he’d snap awake in fright mere moments before they can sink their teeth into his trembling form. Then their mocking laughter would rock through his conscious mind gaining and losing strength randomly.
Sleep, a luxury that he can no longer afford, if he is to maintain what little grip he has left his sanity.
He had tried to drink coffee but he hated the vile fluid and ended up puking his guts out. That’s when he had called Jack and got some coke.
Now he is out cruising the streets for a crack dealer, meth head, anyone with the hook-up. He spots someone with promise up ahead, coming out of an alley. Stringy hair, rumpled clothing, smoking, stumbling. This could be it. He quickens his pace and comes up next to the guy, who doesn’t even notice him. Dude must be trippin’.
“Yo,” Jace says quietly, “Wha’s’up?” The guy stops suddenly, turning slightly towards Jace, “You got da hooks?” Jace asks him in his best Hawaiian pidgin. The guy turns and faces him quickly, and immediately, Jace recognizes him. The man from his dreams, the horrible creature of his nightmares,
The Bay bum as he refers him.
Here! In reality!
OHMIGOD Jace tries to say, but the words get caught up in the rising bile of his throat. His knees began to give,
The bay bum snatches his buckling form by the shoulders and pulls him in close, face to face. Jace becomes re-acquainted with the lice, and crabs, and other assorted vermin that fester upon this nightmare within his nightmare’s face, even as they began to scurry over and jump upon his own face. Jace screams and exhales quickly, shaking his head violently in effort to shrug the vermin off, and struggles to break free from the Bay bum’s inhumanly strong grasp. The bay bum grins at him toothlessly, the maggots and worms, festering and coiling about it’s tooth sockets, that couldn’t possibly, hold the memory of teeth. And then the thing begins to laugh, as it’s mouth opens slowly, wider as it laughs, and wider. Deeper with the pitch and timbre of it’s guttural laugh. Jace can see down it’s throat. He knows he should look away, but he can’t. Now he can see a hand, creeping, ever so spider-like, up the cretin’s throat, towards him. Jace raises a foot up frantically to the bum’s chest in an effort to break free before that hellish hand can grab him. And then he raises his other foot to the things chest, and he literally leg-presses away from it, straining his muscles until he can virtually feel his neck popping and giving way. Until he finally kicks himself free of this other-worldly creature. He tries to breathe but vomit is gushing from his mouth. He stumbles backward into the street trying to clear his wind pipe and the world is torn apart. Everything goes blessedly white.
*
Walter is cruising back from his man’s house and decides to take a lap downtown to see if any of his regulars are working. Most of his guys have legitimate crack-houses, but he still uses a couple corner men. You know street hustlers, fast runners who aren’t afraid to make a little high risk profit. As he approaches from the fourth avenue side, it looks as though it’s just the competition tonight, like this dumb ass, Walter thinks to himself looking ahead to the disheveled corner man. Suddenly a greasy looking crack-head materializes out of the shadows, looks like he’s got a live one! Walter realizes and he watches the mark, slowing, and waiting for the drama to unfold.
Suddenly the buyer wrenches away from the corner man puking and bolting out in to the street in front of him. Walter slams on the brakes and his tires shriek out into the night. The guy thumps off Walter’s bumper as he comes to a halt and immediately he starts praying that he hasn’t hurt this stupid, drunken fuck! Jack jumps out of his car and runs to the front of it, crouching at the guy’s limp form on the pavement,
“Hey, your okay ain’t cha buddy?” Jack is hesitant to touch him and he calls out to the corner man, “Yo asshole! Gimmie a hand here . . .” But one glance up tells him the dealer is long since gone. “Fuck!” Walter screams out and looks back at the guy on the ground, and he is trying to roll himself back over. Jack helps him, and his face comes into view, “Oh my fucking Christ!” He cries out.
It’s Jace! Walter’s world spirals for a long moment, but some how, he manages to hang on.
“Jesus, Jace? You okay, man?” Jack draws him in, cradling his head, “Speak to me bro.” Jace seems to come out of it like a man awaking from a nightmare. He blinks several times, and then he tries to focus on Jack,
“Dear God no,” He says absently gazing through Jack, then, finally locking eyes with him. Recognition fills Jace’s vacant gaze, “Jack! What the fuck?” He exclaims.
“You all-right?” Jack asks brushing him off and patting at him.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I . . . uh . . .” Jace goes slack.
“I think we should get the fuck outta here ‘fore the pigs come!” Walter Jackson suggests.
“Right,” Jace agrees heartily, seeming to come back to the moment somehow, “Let’s go.” Jack helps him to his feet and around to the passenger side. He opens the door for Jace and dumps his dumb ass in the shotgun chair, slamming the door. He looks around in a once over lightly of all directions. No one is in sight. That doesn’t mean that no one saw what had happened. Jack dismisses that thought and hustles around to get in his car. What happened to the corner man? He thinks suddenly, He sure disappeared quickly. He dives in his still open door slamming it and dropping the shifter into drive in one fluent motion. He guns the engine dismissing he thought and his tires chirp as they speed forward into the night. He checks his mirrors then looks at Jace, who sits silent in his chair, clutching himself and rocking slowly back and forth. Walter is glancing at the road, then him, the mirrors, then him, the road, then him, the look of exasperation growing larger on his face.
“So,” Walter starts hesitantly, “fancy running into you, hunh? You know, literally, running into you.” He runs a finger under his nose snorting quickly. He continues on, “What the fuck are you doin’ out walkin’ the streets, man? Couldn’t wait for me to get back, hunh?” Jace doesn’t respond at all, it is as though he isn’t even here. “Hey!” Jack slaps his shoulder, “What the fuck, man?” Jace is looking at him now all spooky-eyed as hell, “Dude . . . you’re starting’, to freak me out now.” Jace snorts his agreement smiling like an asshole but says nothing. Jack goes on, “What the hell is wrong with you? What the fuck are you doing creeping around in the middle of the night?” Jace’s eyes go slack,
“Can’t sleep,” He mumbles lamely and goes back to clutching himself and rocking, wringing his hands now, “Can’t sleep.” He repeats and he seems to sob.
“No, you should sleep.” Walter Jackson counters. Jace draws in a sharp stab of a breath and looks at him quickly, his eyes blistering with fear, and Jack tries again, “I mean seriously, you look like shit!” Jack forces a laugh and looks back at the road as he continues, “Speaking of shit, that isn’t what you’re out here after, is it? Shit? Are you? Jace,” Walter slaps his arm again, “Hey!”
“I can’t sleep!” Jace cries suddenly,” I can’t! I fucking won’t!” Jace curls down into his seat.
“Dude yer talkin’ in riddles now.” Jack says complacently, “You don’t nee . . .”
“I need it all right!” Jace explodes and grabs him by the shirt front and Jack just let’s off on the gas and they face each other, Jace panting, Walter not breathing at all. The silence stretches on until Jack has to look back at the road. He adjusts their course slightly then looks back at Jace.
“Okay, mellow.” Jack says finally, and Jace let’s go of him, sitting back, relaxing. Walter goes on, “I got shit for you, and you don’t need to come down here, man. I’m just . . . concerned.”
“Dude, could you save that shit for your acting class!” Jace spits out.
“Fuck you asshole!” Jack slaps his dash, “That’s sucks balls. Fuck you in the fucking a-hole prick-face!” He grips the wheel with both hands now, wringing it dry. Jace mellows out and sits back, realizing what an ass he’s been.
“Sorry man, shit . . .” Jace starts,” . . . I just . . . it’s just,” He thinks about telling him everything right here right now, the whole story! Hell Jack already knows a bit about Thomas bay, and him being high and all. Hell, he just might believe him! Jace laughs aloud at the very thought of it.
“What?” Jack asks him, a smile tugging at his lips. Jace sobers looking back ahead at the road, he blinks several times,
“I.. I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately,” Jace admits that much, “I’ve been having these nightmares, these . . . terrors . . .” he trails off a moment, then smiles looking at Jack, “I just don’t want to sleep right now. Is that too much to ask?” Who’s the actor now? Jace thinks to himself. Jack bites,
“Aw-ight, it’s cool. How much you want?” The automatic salesman in him taking over, again.
“How much you got?” Jace says coolly and they look at each other, and laugh out loud.
*
Breaker checks his messages when he gets to Wrangell. He has two from Terza and like a god zillion from Lyselle. Breaker uses the pay phone at the top of the dock to call Jack immediately, who picks right up,
“Brea’quaithe, how’s my brother from another mother?” Is his nonchalant greeting.
“Jacky boy what are doing up so early?”
“Goin’ fishin’, me and my boys are headed to the Russian river before the Fourth of July crowds start rollin’ down.” Jack is an actor after all.
“Yer kiddin’, I knew it would have to be something special to drag your ass outta the bunk this early.” Breaker is biting.
“Truth be known, I been up all night, but you know that never stops me.” Jack only tells so much of the truth at any given time.
“Don’t I know it,” Breaker responds, “tell me, you heard from Jace?” He asks as off-handedly as possible.
“Nope”, Jack lies casually, “not since you were here.”
“Bullshit.” Breaker cuts right through him, “That was way too quick and practiced Mr. the Boarder, what’s going on Walter?” Breaker only calls him that when it is a matter of life and death, namely his life.
“Jace’s really fucked up man,” Jack says calmly, “He’s talkin’ some crazy shit about . . .”
“Thomas bay?” Breaker finishes for him.
“Yeah,” he almost laughs his response, “and those little dudes that change into people . . .”
“Kushtaka?” Break guesses right again, go figure.
“Yeah, shit you know all about it.” Jack says sounding very relieved. Breaker snorts derisively,
“I know shit man, just what Jace goes on about and . . . . where’s Jace at anyway?”
“Bottled up at home I think.” Jack answers honestly.
“No, Lyselle would have found him by now . . .” Breaker says. How could he tell? Jack thinks to himself,
“Probably screening his calls,” Walter cringes involuntarily, bad answer. Breaker is quiet a moment,
“Is he high?” He asks suddenly. Silence, Jack is back-pedaling and can’t come up with anything, “Is he high Jack?” By now no need to answer, his silence already had,
“Hey . . . I . . .” was just doing my job, was to be his lame reply, but Breaker cut him off,
“God damn it Jack you pick me up at the airport tonight!” He demands.
“Told you I’m going to . . .”
“To be there on time . . . I know little bro.” Breaker states icily, “I know where you live too.”
“What flight?” Jack asks reluctantly as Breaker slams the phone down on his end. Jack pulls his phone away from his ear,
“Its been really nice talkin’ to you too bro, chh!” He set his phone down and cracks a fresh beer. He takes a huge drink of it and strolls to the computer room to pull up the Alaska Airlines website.
*
Jace sits at home in his studio smoking crack and staring at his drafting bored. Only it isn’t as boring lately. He’s got the lights off and the shades half-drawn and the shadows from outside are dancing across the board’s surface. He is so high that he can stare at it and every time he takes a hit, he can watch another little drama unfold on the crisp white sheet of paper before him.
He has watched himself sit at home doing nothing about the idol until it grows so large that it literally swallows him up whole like the huge gelatinous glob from Futurama is always doing to other people on the show.
In the next version he can see himself going out into the woods and enlisting the help of a great Shaman, and with him they return to the bay and smash the Kushtaka beneath the explosion of a great mountain, and the entire world is torn apart, along with him.
And he has seen a hundred things in between.
They all seem to end with his death. He takes another hit, another death. This next spectacle, takes nearly twenty minutes to perform. In this tiny drama, the Kushtaka catch him napping, and they drag him back to Thomas bay and tie him up to the strangest totem he has ever seen. It is twisted and perverse, and horrible to look at it. The base of it is made of huge mouth that seems to be devouring people as they climb up and over each other trying to escape. But at the top is another mouth eating its way down.
And then, the entire clan of otter-men dance about the scene, and parade themselves in front of him, each molesting him in one shape or form, as they pass by. All of them shifting through different shapes, human and animal, and other, unnatural forms as well, twisting and turning in and out of them and never ceasing on any one given shape. They seemed to flow in time with the incessant drum-beat that hammers at his senses. In the end, the Kushtaka Shaman approaches him, smiling wickedly seeming to recognize him, and welcome him here, to his new home. His tiny arm encircles his neck, fingers stroking him gently, sharpened nails dragging over his skin ever so delicately.
He scarcely feels the dagger as it plunges into his chest. And then it is gone.
The sheet is blank once again and a single tear cascades down Jace’s cheek. He smiles slightly and looks away from the paper.
He loads another hit.
*
Walter is just pulling his Mustang to the curb when Breaker strides out carrying only a small back-pack. He nods to Jack and jumps in tossing his bag in the back seat. It’s a ‘69 convertible or ‘conversion able’ as Jack has always called it, it’s a metal flake blue and in immaculate shape for a car that is older than it’s driver, and Jack likes to keep it that way.
“Gotta love my timing,” Jack says dryly and slides the car back out into traffic. Breaker wastes no time with the third degree and he looks at him squarely,
“So,” He says accusingly, “are you part of this?”
“Fuck you Breaker, don’t go all high and mighty on me, we all get high!” Jack is through acting or fucking around, this shit is getting out of hand. Breaker eyes him a minute,
“Point taken,” He sighs and looks ahead. After a moment, “You think he’s home?”
“I know he is,” Jack answers swiftly, smiling vaguely, “he left the Viper at my house in the garage, to smoke screen ‘Selle.”
“That fuck.” Breaker snorts.
“Us fucks, ”Jack corrects.
“Right, I was getting to you.”
“I’m sure . . .” Jack says nodding. He turns off the music, “Tell me about this Thomas bay shit. Is it real?” Jack looks at Breaker, in the eye and serious,
“I don’t know . . .” Breaker looks him in the eye, “what did he talk about?”
“Gold, for starters . . .” Breaker just nods, obviously ready to accept anything now, Jack goes on,” Some crazy old saloon or some dumb shit where he found this thing, he says . . . and those little dudes that change into shit.” Breaker continues nodding in agreement, “And some creepy, bum dude, that’s stalkin’ him.”
“Bum dude?” Breaker asks honestly.
“Yeah, he says there’s some crazy looking, bum that looks like he’s from the gold rush or something, but even worse than that he’s like covered in crabs and lice and sores and shit, and he’s stalkin’ him right outta his nightmares,” Jack answers, “He says that it used to only be in his dreams, but yesterday night he ran into the guy right in the fuckin’ street . . . fuck, I might have even seen him.” Breaker is flabbergasted.
“I’ve seen the gold nugget, and I’ve heard the Kushtaka myself, y’know, the little dudes that change into shit, they’re called Land otter man down southeast.” He explains, “But a saloon and a . . . bum dude?” He asks incredulously. Jack shrugs with him.
“Says, that’s why he don’t wanna sleep, he says, that when he does, they can take shape, y’know, become physical, and get him. He says can even hear them when he’s awake. This multitude of voices, laughing at him, taunting him”
“Man he is fucked up!” Breaker says suddenly.
“Tell me about it.” Jack agrees.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Dude,” Jack defends, “He’s high as fuck! What am I supposed to say? Are they here now Jace? Come the fuck on!” Jack sits back and lights a smoke and they stare ahead of themselves for the rest of the short drive, minutes only. Jack parks in the guest lot. He switches off the ignition and looks at Breaker finally. He looks back after a moment,
“Is that all Jack?” He asks. Long pause,
“He said something about an idol.” Jack says.
“Idol?” Breaker asks.
“Yeah, he even showed it to me . . . but . . .” Jack looks away in thought.
“But, what?” Breaker asks.
“It was just a gold nugget, and a big one too.” Jack says. Breaker leans back hanging his head over the seat, looking up at the sky. He closes his eyes and prays silently. They may be fucked after all.
*
Jace is fondling the idol and thinking of loading anther hit when it dawns on him. This is the longest he has gone without sleeping, or is it? That runner in Seattle back in 89? Or was it 90? How long had that gone? Three, four, or was it five days? What the fuck ever, he realizes suddenly that he definitely needs another hit. He snatches the crack pipe from the ash-tray and fires it quickly; hitting it fast and setting it back in the tray. His hand goes up to fondle at the idol around his neck, absently he stokes it.
Suddenly the idol squirms in his hand and he jumps to his feet involuntarily dropping it, allowing it to dangle about his neck on its leather thong. He stands frozen a moment listening intently about himself, the paranoia mounting in him even as his jaw begins working back and forth and from side to side. He looks down and opens his desk drawer and dumps his crack container and pipe into it as quietly as possible and backs into the corner of the room, his eyes bulging from their sockets. He can even now see the headlines, Alaska’s most famous Crack-head!
There’s a loud knock at the front door. He cringes at the sound of it.
“Fuck this.” He whispers and swallows hard, and slinks into the closet deftly, closing the door behind him. They can’t come in. They have to go away.
*
Breaker approaches Jace’s complex security door with purpose and Jack is hot on his heels. He starts to push the call button when an elderly gent walks out. Breaker snags the open door and He and Jack go in,
“Family emergency.” Breaker calls back to the old guy, who is eyeing them something fierce. Walter shrugs and smiles at the old man and fixes him with his, “Whattayagonnado?” look. And the door closes behind them. They ride the elevator in silence. Breaker approaches Jace’s door and turns to Walter,
“Check this out.” He cop-knocks the door in his best fashion, BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM, with the standard regulation, four pounds.
“Fuck!” Jack says,” That should put him in the closet.”
“No shit.” Breaker replies grinning mischievously and pulls out his lock picks. “Just keep watch.”
“Fuck that’s right, you pick the locks.”
“Duh . . . now shut up and look out.”
“Look out for what?”
“I don’t know, people.” Jack looks around them in the tight deserted hallway. Breaker sighs and goes to work. Jack watches in fascination. Soon his hands began to mimic Breaker’s, seemingly of their own accord. Breaker removes the picks and pockets them looking to Walter, he raises his eyebrows once in the unspoken question. Are you ready to break and enter? Walter nods in agreement. Breaker opens the door slowly and it stops at the end of the chain, they look at each other. Walter smiles; Break merely shoves his fingers in the door and retrieves the chain like he was trained to do it. He looks back at Walter, whose grin falters. They enter quietly, Breaker motions Walter to follow him. Breaker barely hesitates and walks directly back to Jace’s studio. He stops at the door, listening at it intently. Jack gives him a very hesitant look, like he may have just changed his mind, and its Breaker’s turn to smile as he burst through the door. After one quick glance about the room Breaker moves to the closet and yanks open the door.
“What’s up crack-head?” He asks aloud. There sits Jace, wide-eyed as fuck and looking as though he might shit himself, and Breaker looks directly at what Jace is clutching, and makes eye contact with the idol, seeing it for exactly what it is for the first time! And I don’t mean making eye contact with little fake gold carving eyes, but looking directly into real flesh and blood bearing tissue, and focusing on his own, real eyes! Breaker sucks in a quick breath through his clenched teeth and recoils in horror as the idol shrieks fearfully in Jace’s head, the first sound he’s heard from it since he got high. He squirms about on the tiny floor of the closet in the grip of Legion’s grasp.
Before he can think Breaker lunges forward and snatches the idol from Jace’s loose grasp and yanks it from the crude sinew thong about his neck. Jace seems to come back to himself and springs up to claw at him suddenly,
“No! MINE!” He screams like a child, “MINE!” His nails claw at Breaker’s arms.
“Looks, the other way around to me,” Breaker tightens his hand around the idol and backhands Jace savagely across the face feeling a surge of Legion’s violence now that he is in possession of the idol. Jace flails back in the closet but turns back to face him swiftly,
“Don’t!” Breaker commands pointing his finger at Jace, “Don’t, even think about it!” They stare at each other for an eternity. Then, Jace crumples back into the closet, losing consciousness from exhaustion. Breaker stands above him, triumphantly, teeth clenched in a savage grin. Walter looks at him wide-eyed, with his, what the fuck did you do? Look.
Breaker brushes past him and Walter grabs at his shoulder,
“What now?” He asks. Breaker breaks free and heads out of the room,
“I’m gonna figure this shit out.” He says and just like that, he is gone.
“You motherfucker,” Jack whispers at his back. Walter turns back to Jace. He’s crumpled up in the bottom of the closet and looks all in, and he’s breathing quietly. Walter looks sad as he reaches down to help him to his feet, and drags him towards his bedroom.
*
The one they call Du waak x’aan pulls his essence back from the physical realm to the point. The Tribe is there with him. His adopted Tribe, they huddle about him, drawing in closer to him, their eyes, now like his. Like that of Red Fire. One who is many extends his arms out to them and a rush of victory shoots through them, one and all. Soon, the others, their counter-parts, will amass, and the tribe will set foot in our world, the physical realm, for the first time in centuries. Such is the magic of Du waak x’aan.
They are excited. Soon, they will feed again.

One more chapter and we actually go to Thomas Bay in part two. If you cant wait here’s your button. Only $2.99 for the ebook!

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