End of Legend

When thought finally turned rational, Nathan realized he was outside. Against the dark starlit sky there was a peculiar stream in the air; one he could smell and almost see. It felt and smelled like Ashley. Instinctively he followed it. The translucent stream wafted densely in the breeze leading him into the asphalt street and down its moon soaked lengths. Nathan could hear noises from the stream as well. It cooed sounds of stepping, barking and struggling, as if trying to tell him the story of what passed through here. Speckled blood kept his eyes at his feet. He dared not raise them for fear he might see the worst of things.

The whispering of this insight stream dimmed as it gave way to other noises. There were flashing lights of red and blue, radio talk, and the closing of a car door. The sounds pried his sight from the blacktop beneath his bare feet. Up ahead, the road was cracked and contorted into a corkscrew shape. The ditches, cars, and even a few surrounding pine trees were pulled into the spiraled mess. Those brittle limbs had pinecones scattered across the area like some kind of ninja booby-trap. This is exactly something Krayven would do to win in a barefoot race. Despite the gravity of the situation, the thought made him chuckle. The mess was sizeable, forging a jagged hill from the collected wreckage. The destruction and impossibility of the scene felt all too familiar. There was little question as to which way the kidnappers went. Yellow caution tape feebly attempted to contain the catastrophe, and the flashing lights of two cop cars muddled the odd serenity Nathan felt. The commotion had awakened surrounding neighbors. Some stayed safely on their porch while others braved the damp grass with bare feet to get a closer look. Nathan breathed a bit easier. It relieved him to know that he wasn’t the only one who experienced the unexpected tonight. Reassured about his sanity Nathan approached cautiously. He was taking in more of the scene, observing and scrutinizing every inch for hints of Ashley. The air was thick, not with humidity or mosquitoes that is commonplace in Louisiana, but thick with things more solid. Where the asphalt, earth, and wood were cracked, churned, and splintered, the fragments did not just explode and fall to the ground but hung in the air as if stuck in invisible jello. The insight stream returned. Nathan could see and hear the stream winding up to the summit of the blackened crag. The whirling cognition fed into a rigidly shaped aurora. The array of light was twisting in the same manner befitting the havoc beneath it. It looked like something out of a sci-fi video game. However bizarre this was, Nathan was beginning to accept it as reality. It was a reality of magic wielding kidnappers, outer worldly portals and peril. If he were sane or not, the fact remained, the people who abducted Ashley were very real and the things they did, however impossible, were also very real. He was scared, but this was not something he could shy away from. He would never be able to look his father or brother in the eye again if he’d let Ashley disappear without a fight…a fight to the death. The wind was beginning to get restless. A low howl was bristling through the tree tops. In all his hurry and bewilderment, Nathan did not realize he left the house wearing only what he went to bed in: a pair of boxer shorts, nothing more nothing less. The wind was penetrating his skin and settling atop his bones. The lone pair of boxers he wore did little to steer the constant breeze wayward. He tried to forget the cold and let the insight stream guide him. Entranced by it, he walked past the parked cop cars and ducked under the yellow tape. His fingers glided atop the knee-high stream, the contact feeding him the happenings that took place not so long ago. The scorched parts of the hill were still warm. It was a pleasant contrast to the chilling wind felt in his hands and feet. He began to climb the freakish tower of rubble. “HEY SON! Get down from there!” One of the state’s finest came lurching from behind a cluster of fallen trees. As tactfully as he could, the blimpy officer zipped up his fly and wedged himself between Nathan and the piece of asphalt he intended to climb. Nathan instinctively backed away, his face grim with the introduction of yet another obstacle. In turn, the officer took a half step back, raising his hands as if he didn’t want any trouble. The officer was an older guy seemingly around his late 50’s. Perhaps the combination of his age and experience made him less gun-ho than the normal officers around these parts. His appearance was pristine: polished boots, starched pants, face more honest than those who normally wear the good ole’ black and blue. “Now look here son, this here’s an area of incident. You ought not to be here.” Nathan suddenly noticed he was clinching his fists. He made the effort to relax them…a little. Unlike the undertakings that happened earlier perhaps here, he could win his way with words. “Son is that blood on ya?” The officer’s eye grew suspicious. “Are you involved with what happened here...yer not on any drugs now are ya boy?” Feeling slightly offended Nathan started to speak his mind. He deflated the words before they were spoken however. There was a hint of movement in the corner of his eye. Something was trying to hide in his blind spot. Smells of oiled boots and doughnuts wafted from that direction. He should have known; there were two cop cars after all. This stump of a man would occupy his attention up front while his over indulging pastry partner would get down and dirty around the back. Three can play this game. I’ll let him get a little closer Nathan devised. “Now look son, what you doing out here like that. Let me take a look at ya. You have anything to drink tonight?” The cop flashed his light right in Nathan’s eyes! The officer in hiding decided to make his move. He lunged forward, arms apart! Nathan was waiting. He ducked and sidestepped the intended grapple. As he went by Nathan slapped a formidable two-handed grip on the officer’s left forearm. To keep him off-balanced Nathan pulled hard with the officer’s momentum. The yanking looped downward, back around, and finally upward, flopping the big brute squarely on his back! The officer’s eyes went slightly glazed and his breath left him. While he was dazed, Nathan glided the officer’s gun from its holster. “Now hold on son you can’t do that!” The older officer was raising his hands again trying to calm Nathan. Unfortunately, for him, Nathan was steaming with sternness and conviction. He told the officer his intents. “I’m going up there and you’re not going to stop me.” More people were gathering outside the yellow tape. The officer spoke. “Boy you don’t know what’s up there. Why don’t you give me the gun and we can sort this all out.” It seemed the old man’s words hit home. His face relaxed as Nathan hesitated in his steps. “You know what? You’re right. I don’t know what’s up there.” Nathan cocked the gun. “Gimmie your shoes!” With all the sassiness aside, the truth was he did not know what he would face up there. It is best to be somewhat prepared and if there is walking to be done he will need some shoes even if they were a bit big. The chubby officer was hesitant. Nathan fired off the round in the chamber. It hit the concrete too close for the officer’s comfort. He did what he was told and took the shoes off. Nathan motioned with the gun for him to throw them over. They hit the ground with a clop. Nathan held his sights steady on the man as he bent down to pick them up. With shoes and gun in hand, Nathan felt a bit better about his departure. “Thank you gentlemen!” He bowed to the officers he just robbed and turned to race up the monstrous hill. Being overzealous earned him a banged knee from protruding rocks. Grunting through the pain, he didn’t miss a step and plowed forward.

Almost there…