Soul's Destiny - A Dreamwalker's Journey: Soul's Destiny, #1

Soul’s Destiny

A dreamwalker’s journey

This book is a work of fiction.  References to Saulteau First Nations’ spiritual culture, real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictionally.  All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

Soul’s Destiny, A dreamwalker’s journey, Copyright @ 2018 S.C. Turner.  All rights reserved. 

Printed in Canada. 

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.  For information address NWRM, 655 Bissette Road, Kamloops, British Columbia, Canada V2B 6L3.

Soul’s Destiny, A dreamwalker’s journey may be purchased for educational, business, or sales promotional use.  For information please email saird@shaw.ca.

Book Cover photo by Stuart Aird

Book Cover and formatting by Jordanaire

Design – jordanairedesign@gmail.com

ISBN  978-0-9950122-2-6

Dedication

To my wonderful husband Stuart for his kind support, patience and responses to my inquiries into his fascinating Saulteau First Nations traditions and spirituality.

I thank my lovely children Conyr, Melissa and Kira for never questioning my need to tell my story, oh, and for the occasional pat on the head.

I thank my dear friends for the mesmerizing conversations on energies, spirits and our souls.

1

AYDAN’S BODY WAS HEAVY on the earth while his consciousness, his awareness, floated above his body, attached by the only part of him that still had sensation, his eyes. Everything around him looked at once so close, yet appeared so far away. His numb body walked because his limbs seemed to have a mind of their own, mechanically swinging back and forth, carrying him forward. He had not felt this sensation for a long time, the sensation of drifting out of his body, not since he was a kid, and always then when he was trying to go to sleep. Distantly, Aydan feared that if he squeezed his eyes shut the connection to his body would be broken and his soul would drift uncontrollably into darkness. He wondered what that would be like.

Reflexively, Aydan walked along the wooded path in the University of British Columbia endowment lands. Typically this was a stroll he deeply enjoyed, breathing in the air of the coastal rain forest, feeling the dampness on his skin and seeing the depths of lush green in the layers of vegetation, punctuated by the trunks of trees so dark brown they appeared black. The soil beneath his feet absorbed the impact of his footsteps through rich layers of decaying litter. He had walked this path hundreds of times on his way to do all those normal activities of a university student. Today though, was anything but normal.

Aydan had been hammering in frustration with a broomstick handle on the ceiling of his basement suite just off campus that he shared with his twin brother Thane. This was common enough. He was trying to get the attention of his upstairs neighbors to turn down their blaring stereo so he could concentrate on his reading. It must be Bruce, since he loved the older rock music, particularly AC/DC. A very loud rendition of Thunderstruck was thumping through the ceiling. Aydan knew it would do no good to try the front door since Bruce usually sang along with the music, playing air guitar on whatever object he could find at the time and completing the action with traditional head bobbing. He would not hear Aydan pounding on the door nor ringing the doorbell. Experience had proven that a non-rhythmic vibration usually got the fastest response, hence the broomstick pounding.

Bruce had way too much time on his hands according to Aydan. He was taking part time classes to become a high school gym teacher with a couple psychology classes thrown in to, according to Bruce, impress the ladies in stimulating conversation at the local pub. He also did not have to work since his parents were wealthy and were paying his whole ticket, so Bruce lived in the main two floors of the 1960’s stucco house with his two roommates while Aydan and his brother occupied the cramped, dimly-lit basement suite. Aydan was working part time and Thane had a football scholarship and both took full course loads in biology with aspirations for pre-medicine and botany, respectively. However, Bruce was always up for some laughs and crazy antics, a welcome relief on Friday nights at the end of their busy weeks. Hence their love/hate relationship and semi-tolerance of their neighbor’s love of loud music.

With all the racket, Aydan almost did not hear his cell phone ring. He considered ignoring it at first since he had been pounding on the ceiling for almost two minutes, approximately thirty seconds short of when they would typically get a response. Yet the phone rang persistently. Aydan continued his attempts at musical disruption half-heartedly with one hand while picking up his phone with the other and looked at the call display. It was the university hospital. He was listed with the school, along with his parents, as an emergency contact for his brother. He felt a slight flutter to his pulse and his brow knit in concern. However, Thane had hurt himself often enough in the past; he had a reckless side, yet had always dodged any real trauma. Aydan tried to recollect where Thane was this morning, what he was doing, and remembered he had gone to an early football practice at the university. Shaking off his concern, Aydan touched the talk button. The hospital operator delivered her news bluntly.

Mr. Gillespie? Are you Thane Gillespie’s brother?

Yes Aydan answered slowly, wondering what new sport injury his brother had received this time, a sprained wrist or ankle, maybe a concussion. Aydan would have to walk to the hospital and get his brother home in a taxi. Probably have to play nurse maid for a couple weeks while his brother languished on their lumpy sofa. This was not a good time for Aydan with two papers due, one in each of Genetics and Human Physiology.

Your brother is in a coma. He is being cared for in the ICU on the second floor, east wing. You can ask at the admitting desk in the hospital which room he is in. Normal visiting hours are from 8 am to 8 pm, you need to ask what restrictions they have for him in ICU. His attending physician is Dr. Chernowski she rattled off robotically.

Wait, what? Aydan stammered. What happened? How did he get into a coma?

Sorry sir, I do not have those details. You will need to speak to Dr. Chernowski. I have contacted your parents as well. Have a good day and she was gone, her well-wishes contradicting her awful news.

Thane was in a coma. Aydan sat down hard on their lumpy sofa, AC/DC suddenly forgotten. He vaguely thought it must be a joke. The brothers had played at being each other’s contact for various things. They often had taken advantage of their incredible likeness to one another when an alibi was needed in a pressing situation. Typically it was Aydan providing an alibi for Thane, as his brother was the prankster in the family.

That must be it, a joke. Thane must have put one of his lady friends up to pranking him. He went to the hallway table to grab the phone book and with reverence, mildly cursed his brother’s name. The phone book was not there, as usual. Thane never put anything back where it was supposed to be. Not only did this irk Aydan - really, how hard can it be? – but, even more frustrating was when Thane would call Aydan Mom when he nagged Thane about such things.

Cursing under his breath, Aydan stormed around the apartment looking for the phone book. He could find the number on his cell phone but it was the principle of keeping a phone book in an assigned location for easy retrieval that pushed Aydan to find the book. He found it in the most unlikely of places, in the bathroom beside the toilet.

Reading material?

He shook his head and looked up the hospital number. The numbers listed in the book for different departments were different than the one he had been called from. He felt more confident now that this was a hoax. Thane likely knew some girl that worked somewhere in the hospital. When Aydan dialed the general number he asked lightly of the hospital operator if she could tell him which room Thane Gillespie was in. She was sorry, but no, just that he was on the second floor. The admitting desk could direct him to where to find his brother.

Aydan’s head was filled with one repeated word, No! No! No! No! as he raced around the apartment grabbing his jacket, shoes and wallet while still clutching his phone.

Phone. He needed to call his parents. When he touched the screen of his iPhone he saw that his mother had sent him a text. They had already left Kamloops and were on their way. They would see him at the hospital in a few hours.

As Aydan moved robot-like along the path he had a strong sensation of déjà vu, not just of this path, since that would make sense having walked it hundreds of times before, but of the whole situation, his solitude trek, his brother in trouble and him rushing to help. Nothing this serious had ever happened before though, so the feeling haunted him. Aydan remembered a story of déjà vu from his great grandmother on his mother’s side.

His great grandmother was a Saulteau Indian from northern British Columbia. Aydan had loved his great grandmother who he called Nohkom. She was very small, barely taller than Aydan and Thane when they were young boys, but that was partly because she walked bent over slightly and leaned on her cane. Aydan’s mother had one picture of his great grandmother when her hair was black and she stood straight. Even in the photo one could see she possessed a regal air. Later, despite her solid white hair and bent stature, Aydan remembered always being in unexplainable awe of her and saw the deference paid to her from everyone in her community. He did not understand why, since he generally only saw her cooking or sitting at the table laughing with whoever visited her. She was very smart but many white people thought she was deaf or just plain stupid because she would only stare at them when they spoke to her. She understood their English language but would not acknowledge that she did. She would never speak it to anyone, except her great grandchildren when she had a story to tell them. She always had a hint of mischief in her eye when she spoke English to them. It was their secret.

His last memory of his Nohkom was when he was nine years old and the family had been travelling together to a ceremony on sacred ground in the northern mountains. Aydan had said he had been along this road before. That could not be the case. His great grandmother told him that when people were very young their souls could still feel their previous life. Most people called this déjà vu. As they grew older they would grow out of it. But, when they got very old, like her, the soul could again sense another existence. He remembered she seemed very pleased and comforted when she spoke of this to him. He did not understand at the time, nor for many years later, why she was so peaceful when she told this story. He could never ask her about it since she passed away a month later at the age of 92. This memory of déjà vu came rushing back to Aydan now and he broke into a panicked run in the final stretch to the hospital.

At Admitting Aydan gave his name and asked the nurse for the location of his brother, Thane Gillespie.

The plump middle-aged woman did not make eye contact with Aydan and sighed constantly as she slowly scrolled through her records on the computer. Involuntarily he took a step backward.

Here we go she sighed. He has been moved to a bed in the Step-down ward on the sixth floor. Turn left, go to the end of that hall, turn right, go to the end of the main hall, past the X-ray waiting area and then the gift shop and find the elevators on the left. On the sixth floor, turn right when you leave the elevator and go halfway down that hall to the nurse’s station. They will tell you which room Thane is in.

Aydan left the admitting desk, not sure if he had absorbed any of the instructions given. Without thinking he turned left then right and found himself moving down the main hall where he could see the doctors and nurses walking with purpose to their next destination while the patients moved about more slowly in varying degrees of emotion from calm, to anxious, to terrified. Normally hospitals did not bother Aydan, but, the underlying sensation of anxiety added to his concern and he could feel his chest tighten and his breathe come in short gasps. The fluorescent lights burned his eyes and the sound of multiple footsteps clacking away on the white tile floor made his head sore. He hurried forward to deny his impulse to turn and run. When he reached the elevator he lurched inside and, despite the presence of a pretty young nurse, Aydan quickly pressed number six and then leaned his head back on the wall and closed his eyes. He concentrated on slowing his breathe, puzzled about his rapidly growing anxiety. The elevator ride was too short and he emerged not feeling any better. He made his way to the nurse’s station and asked after his brother. This nurse was younger and much friendlier. Her bright smile helped Aydan to relax a bit.

Let’s see, Thane Gillespie. Yes, we have him resting in room twenty-five she told him conversationally. He is being looked after by the neurologist, Dr. Chernowski. The doctor is reviewing Thane’s test results and is seeing to other patients. He will be a while but you can wait for him in your brother’s room. Thane is still unconscious but you can go sit with him. Physical contact and words may help so hold his hand and talk to him.

What happened to him? Aydan blurted out. It was the second time he asked the question.

I’m sorry, I don’t know. You’ll have to wait for the doctor she said sympathetically.

Aydan nodded and moved slowly down the hall, fearful of what he might see. When he reached room twenty-five he stood in the doorway taking in the scene before him. The lights were thankfully dim and the room was very quiet. He stepped into the room and took a deep breath. He had wanted to find quiet but now he realized he did not want it here. He was hoping his brother would be awake and explain this whole mess to him. Instead, Thane lay perfectly still on the slightly propped-up bed near the window. The other bed close to the door was empty and neatly made. Chances were there was not another patient in the room. There were two visitors’ chairs and a bathroom with access behind the hospital room door. Other than that, everything was a collage of gray, even Thane, except for his shock of brown-black hair. Aydan grabbed a chair and placed it next to the bed by his brother’s exposed hand. He gripped it tightly and squeezed, hoping for a response. None came.

You better wake up or I’m gonna to give you a nirple. Want a nirple? Aydan threatened their childhood torture enthusiastically as he reached down to tweak his brother’s nipple.

No response.

I’ll tell Jill that you were with Sandra last Thursday night and not with me like you told her.

Nothing.

Goddammit Thane wake up! Aydan half-yelled into his brother’s face.

Thane continued to lay still.

Aydan slumped back in his chair and studied his brother while still holding his hand. Aydan and Thane were identical twins. Thane was born first, followed only minutes behind by Aydan. Thane liked to boast good-naturedly that he was the older and smarter of the two. Only their parents could tell them apart, and that was when they would smile, speak or make some other gesture. If they stood side by side, perfectly still, they were indiscernible from one another. They both had thick dark hair, almost black from their mother’s Indian side of the family. Their skin was pale from their father’s Scottish side and their eyes were a captivating combination of both lineages, a strange golden ring around a green centre with deeper green flecks that seemed to glow when the boys were excited or out in the cold for long. They were both 6’3" and strong but slender, despite the fact that Thane played football. He was the quarterback, and a damned good one. He had been scouted by some professional teams, but had not committed to any yet. Even though they would not interfere in his decision, Thane knew his parents were wishing he would finish his Bachelor of Science first.

Aydan was also an athlete, but not a personally competitive one. He preferred the quiet and solitude of his bicycles and spent hours each week cycling long distances up and down the paved and unpaved roads and paths of Vancouver’s local mountainsides. Aydan competed in cycling races, performing well enough to earn him the nickname Flash from his local riding club. However, it was the training that he most enjoyed. It allowed him to think, to process all that happened around him and to regenerate so he could focus on his commitments and then jump back to his brother’s side as Thane sped through life.

Thane was always going mock three at everything he did. He was smart and could speed read so he could keep up with his studies despite the time-consuming demands of his football commitments. When Thane was not studying, playing football or sleeping, he was always surrounded by people. Thane was a party on wheels. He knew people everywhere he went and everyone wanted to know him. It was both exciting and exhausting for Aydan to be Thane’s brother and he had to regularly seek solitude in order to regenerate the energy to keep up. Often when Aydan hung out with Thane and his football buddies he would be content to sip his beer and listen to the boisterous banter around him. One of the more obnoxious defensive ends decided to address this habit one evening and pointed out that Aydan could be Thane’s shadow, he looked the part but didn’t speak. Even though Thane jumped into the ensuing laughter to defend his brother by pointing out he would not shut up at home, the nickname stuck. He was Shadow to the football crowd which did not sit well with Aydan at all, except of course, when it drew sympathetic attention from the ladies for the strong silent type.

The ladies. They liked Thane, a lot. He always had women approaching him or hanging about. Thane was always a gentleman to them. He and Aydan both were gracious and respectful of women. They had better be, or their Scottish father would have had something to say about it. Aydan remembered once when he was six years old he ran through a door ahead of his mother. His father snapped his arm out like a whip and cuffed Aydan on the ear. Dazed, he did not even know what he had done until he saw his father’s face. He quickly apologized to his mother and never preceded a woman through a door again.

Thinking of women brought Katyrie to mind, Aydan’s steady girlfriend of two years. Her rich chestnut hair and deep blue eyes filled his mind’s eye and he longed to be in her arms right now for comfort. She would not have heard the news. He pulled out his cell phone and then hesitated. He knew he was not supposed to use a cell phone in the hospital, but instead, his hesitation came from remembering his last conversation with Katyrie. They had had a big fight. All of a sudden it seemed she was planning their future and became very upset when he would not participate with her. She questioned his feelings for her, his commitment. Yet, he was struggling with his current choice of academic study. He was in his third year of courses and did not know if he should go on and finish his current Bachelor degree or switch to a different discipline which would set him back by a year or two when he would graduate. He could not commit to a timeline for their future. Aydan slowly walked out into the hall to find a pay phone and went over their conversation in his head, regretting his last words that ‘She should do what she needed to do and he would do what he needed to do and if they were still on the same page they could think about staying together’. He had not meant to be so blunt but he could not get her to see things his way and he could not admit to his fear of losing her. Aydan dropped a quarter into the pay phone and straightened his back; they would have to wait to resolve that topic. Katyrie answered on the third ring.

Hello? Katyrie said with a neutral tone.

Hi, it’s me.

Hi Katyrie breathed, relief audible in her voice. Aydan, I do not want to fight, I just...

I know, neither do I Aydan cut her off, but that will have to wait. Something has happened. Thane is in the hospital in a coma.

What? What happened? Katyrie asked, alarmed.

I don’t know. I have to wait to talk to the doctor.

Do your parents know?

Yeah, but I haven’t spoken to them. The hospital contacted them and they are on their way. Katyrie, can you come here? I am freaked and need you Aydan confessed.

Yeah, sure, but I am not in town. After we spoke I jumped in my car and came out to my parents’ place. I’m in Osoyoos. I’ll leave now but it will take me about four and a half hours to reach you.

"If you can, I would really appreciate it Katyrie.

I’ll see you soon.

I cannot wait to see you. Please drive safe.

Aydan hung up the receiver and leaned heavily on the attached table that supported the phone. His chest was still tight but the words Thank you repeated silently in his head.

He took a deep breath and after audibly blowing it out he returned to his brother’s bedside, picked up his hand and prepared to wait.

Aydan woke to a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned to see his mother, Ella. He choked back a tear of relief and rose to hug her. She was much shorter than he. At only 5’8" she was tall for a woman, as were many of her ancestors, but Aydan could easily rest his chin on the top of her head which he often did to annoy her, like she was a handy chin-rest. Today he tipped his head to smell her black, braided, long hair that was filled with smoke from sweetgrass. She had been smudging, sending a prayer to the ancestors for Thane. The smell reminded him of home and of her. He let the scent fill his lungs and felt comforted.

Where’s Dad? Aydan asked.

In the hall asking for the doctor Ella replied as she moved to Thane’s side and took his hand.

Aydan crossed the room and leaned out in the hall to see his father talking in earnest to a small, serious-looking man in a white coat with a stethoscope draped around his neck. Aydan could see the tension in his father’s 6’4" broad-shouldered frame as he peered down at the doctor. If the situation were not so serious the scene would have been comical as the diminutive doctor had to lean his head back in order to speak to his father, like a bird waiting for a morsel from a parent. They turned then and strode to the room. As they came through the door, the short man extended his hand to Aydan and introduced himself as Dr. Chernowski.

I have some good news and some bad news Dr. Chernowski began like he was reading from a script. The good news is we cannot find anything wrong with Thane. The bad news is we cannot find anything wrong with Thane. Please let me explain he added quickly, seeing the sharpened looks. "Thane is in a coma. This has been determined by looking at several factors compiled into a Glasgow Coma Scale. The highest score on this scale is fifteen which is indicative of a person that is awake. The lowest score is three which is indicative of someone deceased. Thane is neither opening his eyes, nor responding verbally but does withdraw from the sensation of pain. His Glascow Coma Score is therefore a six.

The problem is we do not know why he is in a coma. Comas are typically caused by trauma which results in bleeding or swelling that in turn affects the brain. A person may also descend into a coma as a result of brain inflammation or infection. Or a person may experience an inadequate supply of oxygen or blood sugar such as might happen in the event of a stroke, a heart attack or failure of the lungs. A variety of poisons can also cause a coma. We have run all the typical tests used in determining a cause for a coma: an EEG, or electroencephalography, to look at his brainwaves; blood tests, etc. He has normal brain function. In fact, it is very active at this time. There does not appear to be any significant bruising on his body that would indicate a severe blow. His heart and lungs are fine and his blood cell counts are normal so he does not appear to have a virus. The results of his toxicology tests are still pending but we have found no other indications of poisoning such as pathways of entry or skin discoloration or rash. He looks to be in excellent health. At this time we cannot determine why he is in a coma.

But what happened to him? blurted Aydan, frustration mounting.

Oh, sorry. I was not aware you weren’t told. Thane was apparently beginning a practice skirmish on the football field. They had just finished warming up and had not done any physical contact drills yet. Thane was warming up his arm and had just thrown a pass when he dropped to the ground unconscious. There was nothing unusual about the circumstances, except, let me see in my notes, the doctor paused and opened his folder, yes, the ambulance attendant reported one of his team mates said he had been, and this is a quote, ‘jabbering on about déjà vu during the warm-up. That’s it, that is all we know. The doctor closed his folder and held it in both hands, arms straight but crossed in front of his torso. It was an unassuming posture and gave an air of honesty. We will continue to run more tests, but, at this point we cannot tell you how long he will be unconscious.

Aydan barely heard the doctor’s last words. After he had heard his brother had been speaking of déjà vu he could not concentrate on anything else exchanged between the doctor and his parents. He looked at his brother, lying still and unaware in the bed. Twins often felt what each other felt and he and Thane were no exception, but this was over the top, to say the least. Had Thane blinked and gone into the darkness? He spun around and interrupted the conversation by blurting out, Doctor, what about an out of body experience?

Dr. Chernowski looked at Aydan quizzically but replied An out-of-body experience is created at the temporal-parietal junction. This is the area of the brain responsible for synthesizing a sense of body position, gravity, motion and vision. When you transition from being awake to asleep this shuts off when you are still conscious and it feels like you are having an out-of-body detached feeling. Thane is most definitely not asleep.

The doctor’s answer did not satisfy Aydan. How could he have had those feelings when he was walking to the hospital? There was no way he had been on the verge of sleep.

Thane, what did you feel before you were gone? Aydan asked his brother silently.

When Aydan returned his attention to the goings-on in the room the doctor had already left. He made eye contact with his father, Donovan. He was struggling to appear in control but his eyes betrayed him; Donovan was frightened for his son.

Aydan quickly strode the few steps to embrace his father. The hug was quick but fiercer than Aydan expected. When his father clasped Aydan’s shoulders to push him back so they could speak face-to-face, Aydan suddenly felt the sensation of déjà vu once again, darkness began to close in from the outskirts of his vision, and then nothing.

2

KATE BECAME AWARE OF her husband’s morning preparations in the bathroom. However, she was not ready to face the day. She had not been ready for a long time. She kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep when he came back into the bedroom and paused to see if she was awake. Kate waited for him to sigh, which would be accompanied by a slight shake of his head, and leave the room. She hated him for that. It felt like he was judging her. She could not help it, any of it. Her endless sleepless nights were caused by the nightmares, the thoughts of revenge and the pain in her abdomen from the acid of rage, loathing and despair eating away at her. Nick had all the same thoughts and feelings; he just appeared to deal with them better. When eventually she heard the front door click and his car pull out of the driveway as he left for work, she put her face into her pillow and screamed a guttural, animalistic scream. When her throat grew raw, the screaming stopped and led to uncontrollable sobbing. Finally exhausted, she fell back to sleep.

Hours later Kate rose and remotely performed some basic functions, eventually emerging from her bedroom in sweatpants and an old t-shirt. She walked down the hall and paused in front of her daughter’s bedroom door. It was closed. That was Nick’s doing. He said he could not stand the constant reminder of her absence. In fact, he wanted to sell the house and leave with his joyous memories intact. Kate opened the door and went into Casandra’s room. She was not ready to leave. Sitting in this room was when Kate felt closest to her daughter. Everything was exactly the same as it had been on Casandra’s last day on earth. Her daughter’s messiness used to exacerbate Kate. Now she smiled as she walked around the room touching the piles of clothes, the hordes of nick-knacks, the photos of Casandra and all her friends tacked all over the walls. The police had disrupted everything when they searched for clues to her whereabouts, but when Casandra’s body was found, Kate had painstakingly reassembled her daughter’s chaos. Kate sat heavy onto the bed wracked again by the thoughts of terror her daughter would have experienced before she died.

Casandra had been kidnapped, tortured for five days, physically, sexually and mentally, and eventually strangled. A hiker had found her naked body dumped in a ravine two weeks after she had gone missing. The murderer had been apprehended two months later. He confessed to everything. His trial was just a formality and now he was locked away in Kingston Penitentiary in Ontario. Kate kept tabs on him. Charles Lawrence Jones was his name. Kate watched everything about him that she came across on the television, read all the news articles and even phoned the prison on occasion to make sure he was still there. The security guards at Kingston were very patient with her and would answer any question they could. Kate wanted to hear that he was suffering but she never got that satisfaction. Kate wanted to wait until he got out after his sentence of twenty years and torture and kill him herself. In his weak moments, Nick would join her in the fantasy of attaining revenge for their daughter. Kate hated the man so much, the very thought of him left bile in her mouth.

3

WITH RESIGNATION, HENRY struggled out of the taxi and stood on the curb in front of the Oceanview Seniors Village while the driver fetched his luggage. It was placed beside him unceremoniously. Three bags and a walker, all the possessions he had left in this world. His life had been reduced to this. When the driver thanked him for his fare Henry just grunted, resisting the urge to make a surly comment.

Foreigners he thought to himself taking away all the honest jobs.

Henry stubbornly remained on the sidewalk, standing resolutely while holding onto his walker. He had phoned ahead to let them know he was coming and that he would need help. In fact, Henry had to make all the arrangements for this move by himself. His daughter Anna had offered her help but he had refused. She had not come around for years, not after Henry had told her worthless good-for-nothing husband exactly what he thought of him. That was before his wife, her mother, Genna had passed on. Damn her for leaving before him. He had told Anna that she had to choose, pick her husband or them, that he did not want that asshole around them. Genna had been very upset with him, especially when Anna clearly chose the asshole. But then what could Genna do? It was not long after that when she got sick and died, getting her final revenge on him. Tears rose in Henry’s eyes. In his own way, he missed her terribly. She had been his life-long companion, the only one that had always stood by him. Their son Jake’s absence also grated at him. That kid seemed to only come around when he wanted something. Jake probably was waiting for him to croak and then he would just swoop in to take whatever was left. Well, he would show them, both of his ungrateful spawn. His legal will said whatever was left after paying for this supposedly top notch place would go to charity, they would not get a thing, except a bill for his burial.

Finally, here come the lazy bastards Henry thought as a man and a woman dressed in the tasteful uniform of Oceanview emerged from the front door and headed toward him.

Henry was welcomed, ushered inside and asked to take a seat in the luxurious lobby while they finalized the paperwork for him to sign and get him a key to his rooms. His belongings would be taken there ahead of him while they gave Henry the grand tour of the facility.

Henry just grunted. Rooms he thought with disdain, they make it sound like a destination resort. And some bastard will be going through my things before I get there.

While Henry sat waiting, two other residents passed each other in the lobby, each asking how the other was doing. One answered the traditional Fine while the other said Every day above ground is a good day.

To hell it is grumbled Henry to himself.

Well it sure is said a cheery voice beside Henry.

He looked over to see a short, squat woman with a cherub-like face beaming at him.

If you say happy things, it will make you feel happy. Go on, try it.

Henry just glared at the woman dressed in the facilities uniform. It did not seem to faze her, she just kept smiling at him. Henry wondered if she was all there upstairs. In any case, it did not appear as if she was going to leave him alone until he complied. Damn his need of his walker, it was hard to make quick get-a-ways. To get her off his back he repeated the phrase.

Every day above ground is a good day Henry said grumpily.

Now, don’t you feel better? the cherub asked.

Humph replied Henry and shuffled slowly away.

4

THE BASTION’S GUARD lay pinned on the ground, gasping from failed exertion and fear. He cast his eyes wildly about trying to comprehend his situation. His fallen comrades lay scattered around him. It had happened so quickly, they had come out of nowhere.

Where, where did you come from? You are not supposed to be this far south he croaked.

The response was silence.

The guard struggled against the four creatures restraining his limbs but to no avail. They held him firmly. Hairless, mottled-brown bodies crouched upon each limb and stared with their large black pupils floating in blood red eyes. Others of the same ilk drifted around the dead guards, seeming to be waiting for something. When a different creature, one twice their size stepped out of the forest they paused in their movements, all turning in deference and fear.

This new monster strode with authority to the guard’s side and knelt. He regarded the man with eyes of solid black and smiled, of a nature; lips parted with many teeth exposed. He breathed on the guard, a foul scent that mixed with body odour and decay from the gray, flaky skin.

Where is it? asked the black-eyed one.

Where is what?

The Twin was the reply as a small blade was presented. The stone in the hilt glowed a wavering sickly green as though black smoke flowed through it.

The guard gasped.

Where?

I do not know the guard breathed, barely audible, his eyes transfixed on the blade.

Black Eyes grasped the neck of the guard’s tunic and tore the garment, exposing his torso. He put the knife tip to the pale skin and pushed softly, watching as the blade sunk in.

Please!

Blood oozed from the wound as the blade was removed. The mottled creatures leaned forward, jostling to take turns to drink the blood.

Yes?