Volume One: The Road Out
Chapter Five
Verse six: Scat and the Lost Lake
The Pale Shepherd stood at the base of Brave Mountain, the point at which the land
changed and began to consider itself to be a mountain, the point of change. The Pale
Shepherd looked up the hill, pausing to gaze at the spreading holes torn in the story.
Quietly The Pale Shepherd spoke, "This is where the old story ends. Little humanity, is
this your final chapter? You were so amusing in your time."
The Pale Shepherd swung a hooded head to the left sharply and then, after a moment of
silence, said, "This is bigger than Pompey, bigger than Rome. This is a change greater
than the Internet or the steam engine, greater than language. This is change on a scale
equal to fire, because this change will either kill you or resurrect you into your true
form."
The midwives clamoured anxiously around the pale Shepherd. The Pale Shepherd remained
motionless, speaking again after a moment's silence.
"No, I will not give you the odds of your survival. Such concepts are useless to spirits
such as you. You are immortal as long as humans survive, and less than a ghost if they
die. Time will tell, change is inevitable."
The Pale Shepherd was again silent for a moment, before speaking.
"You are not human. No, don't bother protesting. You never were. I know you are not
pleased to hear that, but it is the truth- as you will eventually learn. Now go. You are
needed at the summit. Your friend fights for his life, and he will die if you arrive
after myself."
The Pale Shepherd was silent again, standing motioneless and yet squirming for a long
moment, and then began to ascend up the mountain.
* * *
Harley and Bridger stood in the center of a snarling, shrieking circle of hundreds of
Wendigo, staring down the guardian of the mountain: a massive bear thing composed of the
mountain itself. They had tried to run, but the Wendigo had not retreated entirely. The
Wendigo were obviously afraid of the bear spirit and wouldn't approach, but they had
circled around in and surrounded Harley, Bridger, and the Guardian.
Harley doubted that the Wendigo had intended to cut them off from escape, but they had,
and as a result, the wendigo were forcing Harley and Bridger to deal with the bear
spirit. It loomed like an earthen shadow above them, blocking their view of the top of
the mountain and their goal.
"We can't get through that thing." Harley said.
Bridger drew his pistol and emptied several rounds into the thing, Harley though he
counted five rounds, but wasn't sure. The Guardian Spirit did not acknowledge the
bullets as they struck.
"Agreed," Bridger said in answer to Harley's earlier comment, "I guess we need to get
back to the gate?"
"Do you think that will calm it back down? Or have we permanently pissed it off?" Harley
asked.
"You're the Hero, I'm just the back up. I have the sneaking suspicion with all this
story talk that I'm the new partner who dies in every cop movie ever. You know, the guy
who gets a name and a sympathetic backstory just so the writer can make the viewers feel
sad when he gets gunned down at the end of act two?"
"Not that I'm disagreeing, but you probably shouldn't be saying that. Naming story
elements seems to invoke them."
"Maybe I'm hoping that naming it will subvert the whole process, make a better story but
upsetting expectations."
The Guardian lunged like an angry cliff face at the pair and brought a gargantuan stone
paw cascading through scraggly pine trees to detonate like a grenade made of earth and
stone and rage as Bridger and Harley flung themselves wildy out of the way. Two trees
creaked, moaned in protest and then crashed to the ground.
"You better hope that's the case!" Harley yelled as he pulled himself back to his feet
"We can't run! We can't fight!" Bridger called out in return, "What do we do?"
"Marion did this thing where he went all Zen Samurai super warrior on the monsters. The
witches who taught me to walk through walls called it 'the flow'. If I can get it
working, I might have a chance."
"I must be going crazy, because I almost understood that. I'll distract it, you get your
meditation on!"
With that Bridger unleashed another series of rounds from his pistol. Harley closed his
eyes and reached out for the story, the way that the witches had said he should. They'd
not actually walked him through finding the flow, only discussed it briefly. The sound
of metal racheting against itself startled Harley and he opened his eyes to see Bridger
ejecting a spent magazine from his pistol and load another as the man ran from the
enraged mountain god.
He closed his eyes again, but he didn't even know where to look. He couldn't hear the
flow in his mind, there was nothing to find.
"If I don't do this," Harley muttered to himself, "Then we've lost, and we've lost
everything."
* * *
Marion knew he was lost deep in the Shadowlands. He had stumbled away from an enemy
patrol and accidentally into a huge shimmering hole in the sky some time ago. On the
other side he had found himself in a wasteland of blighted crops and cracked earth,
blasting hot sunlight in cloudless skies. And Wendigo, everywhere, there were Wendigo.
Marion didn't have trouble handling the Wendigo. He was practically at home in this
weird dreamscape and was virtually unbeatable with his twin tomahawks- especially
against things that seemed to play the role of faceless monster in the story.
"I am a glorified Zombie Killer these days," Marion said to himself and he flowed
through a pack of Wendigo. There snarls turning to animalistic shrieks of pain as blood
sprayed out in chopping hacking arcs around Marion's line of passage.
Marion finished dispatching the last Wendigo and was catching his breath when he heard a
sound that initially sounded like the wet slithering of serpentine forms, but which
Marion suddenly realized was a voice, speaking quietly.
"This is where the old story ends. Little humanity, is this your final chapter? You were
so amusing in your time."
Marion looked to his left, and saw another massive hole in the world, and through it,
facing in the opposite direction- looking up the hill-, Marion saw a huge disquieting
figure in a faded robe standing flanked by things that gave Marion instant waking
nightmares.
Marion shook his head, "This is not the end. We are going to save day. But you know that
don't you?"
The thing turned a hooded head and spoke again with its voice like crawling worms.
"No, I will not give you the odds of your survival. Such concepts are useless to spirits
such as you. You are immortal as long as humans survive, and less than a ghost if they
die. Time will tell, change is inevitable."
"Not a ghost. I'm human." Marion said.
"You are not human."
Marion opened his mouth to object, but the figure kept speaking.
"No, don't bother protesting. You never were. I know you are not pleased to hear that,
but it is the truth- as you will eventually learn. Now go. You are needed at the summit.
Your friend fights for his life, and he will die if you arrive after myself."
Marion turned away from the openning and looked up the hill towards the summit about
which the figure had spoken. Marion could feel something, and with a little
concentration he recognized it.
"Harley. Okay, I'm coming. Big Damn Hero time buddy. The Cavalry is coming."
* * *
The Wendigo swarmed through the city, a howling and screaming horde of predators let
loose in their prey's nest. Wendigo dragged people to the ground and began feasting as
others fled in panic, some running headlong into portals torn open right in front of
them as the ran blindly away from the devouring monsters.
The streets echoed with the screams of the hungry and the screams of the hunted.
The wendigo did not hunt at random however. Some people they ignored, passing those city
dwellers by in disinterest. Those ignored by the wendigo inevitably experienced a
change, skin drawing tight about their bones, teeth elongating impossibly, pallor
becoming pale and hungry. These new wendigo promptly joined the pact and began to hunt
with the rest, tearing into their former neighbors with newly grown claws and driven by
a hunger they never before knew they had within them.
In the office of Salt and Sons, Darius Salt watched the chaos in an empty office- even
the Gray had left him in isolation.
"What a waste of resources." He muttered to himself.
* * *
"We're wasting time, and we're wasting energy." Bridger said, 'I'm out of ammunition. I
don't have any other tricks up my sleeve, just a taser that I've never used outside of
training and a badge I can wave around."
Harley paused for a moment to listen to Bridger and try to formulate a new plan. He
couldn't find the flow. Boneshaker was doing no damage. Bullets did no damage. An
urisine shoulder made of sedementary rock and soil pounded into him like a collision
with a sixteen wheeler. Harley heard himself scream in pain, and watched in third person
as he flew like a rag doll through the air, landing hard amidst the Wendigo- who pulled
back in fear and eyed the enormous stone bear warily.
"Night! Don't you dare die on me!" Harley heard Bridger yell, "I may still arrest you,
and I can't arrest a corpse!"
Bridger dodged to the side as the bear spirit brought jaws like a dumptruck down where
Bridger had been. But the impact threw of huge chunks fo sandstone and shale, a piece of
which clipped Bridger, sending blood spraying out from his forehead and sendig the agent
spiralling into the crowd of Wendigo.
Harley tried to focus, "Move Harley," he mutter to himself, "Move Harley! Move! Or Agent
Bridger is going cease to exist."
* * *
The man tried to scream as the woman beside him pounded on the black dog like shape
before them with an umbrella she had been carrying. The scream disappeared into the
event horizon around the Hound as it moved slowly towards the screaming man.
The city was awash in fear. And the Hound was feasting. The woman made no impact on the
hound as it closed on its chosen prey. The man was terrified, paralyzed by his fear. The
Hound reached the man, touching the man with its event horizon.
And the man simply ceased to exist. The women screamed in horror and rage and continued
to strike the hound. The hound did not notice and loped out of the alley way leaving
only a trail of frost.
The Hound was hungry and the city was a feast.
* * *
The Pale Shepherd passed through the second Torii Gate, which splintered from dry rot
and fell to the ground in a heap as the Pale Shepherd passed through. Holes in reality
spawned like rabbits around the Shepherd has the robed figure undulated up the mountain.
The sky cracked in pain as the Pale Shepherd passed, portals opening like split lips.
The midwives lumbered and danced along beside as the Pal Shepherd continued inexorably
up the mountain.
The sounds of battle echoed down the mountain. The shrieks of the wendigo were on the
wind like ashes from an massive forest fire intent upon devouring the world. The Pale
Shepherd cocked what passed for it's head and turned to gaze off to the left.
"No. The wendigo aren't mine. Although on occasion they do my work. But if we are being
honest, everything does my work. I am inescapable. I am inevitable. Kings cannot bribe
me with all their gold. Empires cannot oppose me with all their armies. The Dinosaurs
failed to escape me. The trilobite ended on my decision. I brought the Permian to a
close, and the Ordovician, and the Devonian, and the Triassic and the Cretaceous, and
now I bring the Holocene to a close as well."
The Pale Shepherd did not stop moving as it spoke.
"No, you can't stop it. Why would you want to stop it? That is not your role."
A long silence.
"Your role is to enable the next story. This story is finished. And when one comes to
the last page, close the book."
The Pale Shepherd kept walking.
"You cannot sway me little figment. I am what I am. As are you. We play our appointed
roles. Yours require that you become lost, that you may again find your way. We oppose
each other to bring about the same thing. One day you will see. We are opponents, we are
not enemies."
* * *
"I am still hungry." Falsenight hissed.
"There's nothing left." Darius snarled as he walked passed the decaying black serpentine
form.
Falsenight attempted to rise, and failed, crumpling like collapsing crane back to the
tiles.
"There is you." Falsenight slurred out, wriggling heavily along the floor.
"Look at you," Darius countered, turned to face the serpent thing, "You can't devour me,
you can't even rise up to strike."
"We made a bargain, little meat. Where is my tribute? I hunger!"
"I'll get you your tribute you vile snake. Just you wait."
"Time is almost up little meat, the game is going to end."
"I will not let it end."
* * *
"This isn't the final countdown. It doesn't end like this." Harley managed, forcing
himself to his feet through means he couldn't rationally explain. He was standing again,
but wasn't sure how he had done it. He legs were jelly from the mountain guardian's last
hit, but he was standing, battering back the wendigo with Boneshaker. His technique
wasn't pretty but it was working, after a fashion. He pushed and shoved and jostled his
way violently through the Wendigo to the point where Bridger had fallen.
Swinging boneshaker is large crunching arcs, Harley drove back the wendigo to reveal
Bridger coiled up in a fetal position- arms covering his head protectively. Harley shook
his head.
"After the sound you made when that rock hit you, I though you were dead. I didn't
expect to find you still conscious."
"We're dead." Bridger said, taking advantage of the space Harley had created to pull
himself to his feet. "We are Christmas dinner and they're about to feast on us. This is
just postponing the inevitable. How long can you hold them back?"
As Bridger spoke, a wendigo ducked under boneshaker's arcing swing and sank fangs into
Harley's bicep.
Harley cried out and punched the wendigo, failing to dislodge and both crashed to the
ground in a snarling scrambling heap.
"I had to ask." Bridger said.
A Wendigo launched itself at Bridger, and he braced for impact when the thunderous bark
of dog deafened Bridger for a moment and a pressure wave knocked the wendigo sideways
out of the air. The Wendigo on top of Harley began to shiver violently, and then
abruptly the skin of its scalp ruptured, bursted outwards in a spray of blood of brain
juice and the Wendigo fell limp on top of Harley who heaved the still form off as he
pulled himself to his feet.
"I thought you said your boy was sexy?" A male voice said, and Bridger looked up to see
a dirty dishevelled man with a huge dog standing next to a bloody and battered but still
quite stylish Amy as the wendigo retreated.
"In case you haven't noticed, nothing stays sexy in this world you've brought me into."
Amy answered.
Harley shook his head and smiled, "You do Amy. You're always sexy. Even your voice is
sexy."
"Alright," The dishevelled man said with a smile," You can keep him."
"Is everyone you know secretly a super hero wizard space ninja, or just the one's I
met." Bridger asked
"You're going to make me sick," A tiny wizened woman said, emerging from behind the
other two.
Bridger watched Harley's face go cold.
"Who's she?" Bridger asked.
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