John Jackson - The 9th Fortress

Under our feet was a narrow path wandering down the hill, then bobbling over others to a far off horizon of green. The samurai paused, eyes squinting, his hand moving toward the katana at his belt. "What's wrong?" I asked, but Kat remained motionless to my words and to this world. There was no apparent danger, but the man would not be rushed, and I would take time to learn that fact.

The samurai removed his fingertips from the sword hilt, and grunting, lowered himself to one knee. Collecting a handful of stones that made up our path, he analyzed them in his cupped palm. His black eye peered like a scientist down a microscope, and I only could fold my arms and wait. Was this his routine? Was he always so cautious?

A few uneventful minutes later, the Distinct Earth's illusion of normality was shattered forever. A rotten taste hit the back of my throat, like a mouthful of wet dog. I dabbed two fingers over my tongue and felt nothing out of the ordinary, but upon removing them, I baulked at the tips, which were caked in soot. It was the sort of filth you find behind old cupboards or underneath car seats, and repulsed, I coughed a puddle of it into my hand. "My God, I'm sick! Look at that!"

"It is in the air," he said simply. "Harmless."

I peered again at the clear blue sky, thinking it impossible that this rancid pollution could linger there. I inhaled another breath and knew it was, mold shot up my nostrils and stuck like a clogging flu. "Ugh!" I gagged. "I have to get used to…breathing this shit?"

Robot-like, Kat patted the dirt from his hands, stood, and said, "You will."

I wiped the hand clean against my jeans and retched. Just one more thing to get used to, Danny. If anything, it was a timely reminder that this Distinct Earth was simply a reflection of a planet with which I was familiar. Sadly, my days on that realm were over.

***

Without rest, I followed Kat up and down the hills and mounds, and the more I watched his back, the stronger my urge grew to thank the man. This warrior was only here for my well-being, leading a complete stranger into the worst place imaginable, and when trouble called, he would be the one to answer it. My shield and sword, my North Star and deliverer from evil — who in their right mind would be happy bearing that responsibility? What sin had Kat committed to deserve this almighty task?

In the end, I stuck to keeping my mouth shut. The samurai was a simple man from a different time, and I feared my gratitude would be seen as a sign of weakness.

It was a long while before woodland came into view. It was a clutched and crackled barb shimmering black over the green, with every possible route inside protected by a thorny outgrowth of branches. The sky above seemed to die before and above these woods. Bright blues were whisked to damp greys and boggy browns, almost as if the sun's rays were prohibited from shining upon it. "Wait!" I said, trying to disguise trepidation as Kat turned around. "Just…hold on a sec."

"What?" he asked, irked by my interruption.

"I ain't going in there," I replied, resolutely shaking my head. "Those woods are a maze; any idiot can see that. It's stupid, it's nuts, and I ain't going, you hear me?"

"It is the way," he returned, obviously.

"You're sure? And what about all this pretty grassland growing in every other direction? Go through the big scary woods if you want, but I'm going around them!" I set my foot on the grass, and firmer than I would have liked, Kat yanked me back to the path.

"Never stray!" he growled, his eyes tense and penetrating. "This is a cursed land; inhabitants are treacherous devils. The woods are our road, our way. Stay very close."

I shook off his grip and gave him my best sulk. "And if something should happen to you, samurai?"

"I will not fall," he replied, as if an absolute certainty.

My granite-faced leader then lowered eyes to a procession of ants crossing the tip of his boots. I waited for the warrior to press his sole down on top the helpless colony, but there was no satisfying crush of insects. Instead, the warrior took an unusually large step over them, and I did the same.

***

The dead wood loomed. It was a beached ship left to rot, a building abandoned to natures mercy or vehicles left to scrap. The trunks were rooted thick and unmovable, with crisping, parched bark. Branches resembled spindly spider legs, and the wind whistled us a most haunting tune through the cracks.

Kat remained still, and searching for my nerve, I found something else, a figure on the field to my right. This object struck out from the grasses: a black scarecrow-like form with arms strung out in a crucified manner. "What is that?" I said, squinting hard. It was no scarecrow, but a man. Living or dead, there was only one way to find out. I stepped into the grass, which reached my thighs and coiled around my legs.

My shuffling movements alerted my protector samurai, who turned, absolutely outraged. "You! Come here! Never leave me!"

Taking no notice, I waved a casual hand back at him. "Just wanna check it out! You stay here, I won't be long!"

Wading through the pretty field, I reached the body in no time. It was a man barely out of his teens, strapped high to a post and held in place with ropes around his chest and wrists. He was wasting away here, with slashes down his clothing and clotted blood seeping out the tares. Flesh flaked from his muscles, and bloated bruises covered what was left of his face and arms. I gawked at the bloody spittle oozing from his bottom lip, his feet like draping curtains before me.

"Do not touch!" ordered Kat, his voice closer now. "Do not!"

I kept my hands to myself and averted my eyes from the wet, red mess. "Kat!" I cried. "You need to come see this!"

However, the samurai warrior was already behind me, pressing an excruciating squeeze on neck and turning me on the spot to meet his reeling glare.

"Never leave my back!' he bawled. “Never!"

"Get your fucking hand off!" I grimaced and shrieked. "Who do you think you…What's wrong with you? Let go of me! This man needs help! I'm cutting him down! I'm cut-" I yelped as Kat dug his nails deeper, so deep that I dropped like a sack of spuds.

"Settle," he said. "The man is done for."

I strived to contain the agony glowing red on my face. I would not give this brute the satisfaction of seeing it. I could stand it — I had been through worse — I would show this Kat how strong I was. Forcing against his hold, I rediscovered the strength in my legs and attempted to stand, but the more I fought, the harder Kat turned his vice.

"Settle."

Reluctantly, I surrendered. A futile exercise, I stopped the fight and Kat relinquished. However, our meager quarrel was forgotten immediately when, to our surprise, the young man spoke from his lofty position, popping blood bubbles from the mouth. "I…I…"

"What!" I gasped, scurrying to his feet. "What are you saying? Stay with us!" I searched for help, but there was only a callous-looking samurai scratching his own neck

"He," the boy grunted, "is…n-"

"What?" I whispered. "Who?"

"Sca…" His head slunk, and the life in him was gone. Thick foam dribbled from his nose and both eyes rolled to leave a pair of dull ghosts behind. The gruesome sight did not upset me; the holes in my memory had yet to be completely filled in, and I could not recall if I had seen similar horrors in the past.

"Sca?" I pondered. "What do you think it means?"

"Stand back," said Kat.

I did so without question, moving to Kat's side as he scrutinized the dead boy. The samurai seemed to be waiting, expecting. I didn't know what and he wouldn't tell me, but in no hurry to enter the woods, the samurai could daydream as long as he wished.

An abrupt wind gave me a fright. It arrived from nowhere to stick up our hair and whip the grass, but oddly, was only located around the bloodied post. "What's going on?!" I yelled, over a rapidly growing gale.