Forward: The Return. Seen that new movie yet? Odysseus wakes up on the shores of Ithaca, and with the journey behind him, struggles to bring the whole narrative toward an end. By the way… I don’t know what I’ve been told, Vangie’s heart is mighty cold.
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It seemed like a thousand yesterdays since the whole kitten caboodle of us began the march down, down, down into the darkness. D.I. Collins kept pace beside me, in my face, pointing a stern finger, almost foaming at the mouth. “You will wake the fuck up, Mary Jane! You will absolutely fucking snap out of this or you are going to do some fucking PT for the pleasure of your God-given D.I. You will wish for death before I am done with you. Do you understand me you Kotex clot?”
Affirmative.
I understood.
Rifles are a gift. Call them what you will, but if you are a soldier marching down into the Stygian abyss without one, you are kinda like a can of rotten-ass dog meat. I eyeballed the tunnel walls: same chitinous material that made the wall around Mount Geneva. But there’s more. There were lights behind the tunnel walls, lights that seemed to possess awareness. Sometimes one of the lights fractured into three, and one would follow our train, only to zip out of sight. Also, I became aware of a syrupy-sweet voice in my head:“You are arriving, have been arriving always all of your of your life to this current moment. It’s only a bit longer, and then you will be born again in paradise below. You will be given your life-reward. You will finally have freedom. You will finally be given free will. Only a bit longer. Already, you are closer, much closer.” Was I being singled out, or were we all being drowned in the promise of the voice?
I chanced a glance backward at the person behind me. Blank, unseeing eyes peered into me. A zombie. Probably under the trance-like purr of the voice that promised all good pogues all the Zom-Zoms they could eat just ahead. I gave the whole situation a rapid think. No. There was no real way to step out of line. We were in some sort of tight alien vagina. Something had spun the chitin tunnel so spidery-tight that no big-titted Mary Jane could turn sideways without having a gasm. The visitors were truly prescient, always ahead, and ahead of that ahead. We monkeys could lob and trigger, but the visitors were seemingly an omniscient collective. Psionic ants maybe? Grasshoppers? Psionic octopi would make a whole batch of calimari once you gave them a stab-stab or three.
I forgot. You know how it is. You strap a knife to your lower leg, march, run, huff-and-puff a bit, and it feels like part of you. What I had down on my left leg—just above the ankle line—was nothing but your classic bowie knife–remember the Alamo. Realizing it was there was gold in my pocket. We Mary Janes of Collins’ Shadow Legion platoon were grateful to have among us a long-time student of Kali, a Filipino combat art. She went by the call-sign Goldilocks. We used to spend a couple of hours with Goldilocks after a good run, practicing knife skills under her instruction. Not saying I could personally take out all the squids that make this whole operation tick, but yeah, I could chop off a few tentacle tips for dinner.
End of the line.
Daylight pierced into the tunnel, so I slipped on my sunglasses. Others around me were coming out of their daze, blinking, shielding their eyes with their hands. Ta-freaking-da. The sound of surf pounding away at a beach was an added shock. An ocean down below? What the fuck-diddle? It almost drowned out that horribly beautiful voice in our heads. “You have arrived to your own personal paradise. You will find food and shelter here as you explore. You may claim any home that suits you. We have always wanted nothing more for your racebut happiness. Go and forget your past lives. Go be happy. Go in peace.”
End of Part 1
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Author’s Note: A pogue is a USMC term for a marine riding a desk instead of killing the foe. Also, “Zom-Zom’s” is a quote from “Down in the Park” by Gary Numan. I love Numan’s music. It allows me to dream of this weird stories. In the song, Zom-Zom’s is a place to go grub, but in my tale, it means a sweet treat like a huge Ding Dong.
