Jigsaw World Page 4

  Tom drove for another six hours or so before he felt that he had put enough miles between them and the body. Finally, he pulled off into a small town that seemed peaceful enough. Either he missed the sign that named the town, or it didn’t have a name. He parked in front of a building that was part general store, and part cafe.

  He entered the wooden structure, and sat in a cool alcove with a table based by a wooden drum. When the waiter came over and took his order, he went for the Lamb with mushrooms for himself and Bailey, and the Blueberry Cheesecake for desert. He was going through money like water on this trip. It was a good thing that he had inherited a bundle of about three thousand dollars from Susan. He thought that it should see him through the trip.

  As he was digging into the Lamb, he overheard the nearest table, where the guy was complaining about the tattoo like mark on his arm. Curious, Tom discretely looked at the mark, which resembled two elongated Ses facing in opposite directions, which have backed up to intersect each other, so that they intersect each other in the middle of each arc of the S. The resulting mark looked like it possessed two horns and two legs.

  When the waiter returned to check on their drinks, he asked him about the mark he had seen. The waiter said that it had been cropping up around there for the last couple of weeks, on residents and sometimes on travelers. The curious thing was that a lot of the people with the mark had burned to death in the last few days.

  Tom engaged the waiter in casual conversation about the community happenings recently, and discovered that a former ‘bad boy’ named Danny had returned to town recently sporting a big red sword tattoo on his chest. The strange thing, in the waiter’s opinion, was that Danny, who used to cause endless trouble, had been very law abiding since coming back to town about three weeks ago.

  Just about the time that Tom was about to be regaled with the last century of town gossip, the man with the mark began to moan, then scream, and first steam, then flames, covered his body. While his eating companions lunged backwards, the man’s body flared, and the flesh on his body turned to ash. Within a minute, the fire was out, and there was a pile of ashes and some half burned bones on the chair and beneath it on the floor. Looking closely, Tom could see no indication of scorch marks on the chair or table.

  While the waiter was still shocked by the situation, Tom achieved two things. First, he got the waiter to tell him where he could find Danny. Second, and more importantly, he was able to slip out the door without paying his ticket for the meals.

  A couple of moments later, Tom and Bailey got out of the van in the yard of a decrepit old house at the very edge of the little community. Tom had slipped the new knife on underneath his shirt, and they walked up to the door and knocked on the door quietly. After waiting for a second for someone to respond, Tom pushed the door open, and they entered the house. There was a small sound at the back of the house, and they padded softly down toward the source.

  Opening an interior door, they saw a medium sized man dressed in a red cape and hood monk arrangement, with the front untied. The man was wearing a pair of blue jeans beneath the robe. The man had a large red sword tattoo on his exposed chest, which meant that he was Danny.

  Just inside the door, there was a small table with a book, bound in leather, on which the same structure as the marks that showed up on the victims was depicted in lines of flame, and the one word ‘Surtur’. Tom flipped the book open, and read a couple of paragraphs. The Introduction stated that Surtur was a Flame Giant, who was destined to burn away the world, humanity and the gods at the end of the world. It said that the priest of Surtur would hold the emblem of the red sword, and could be Surtur’s curse, which would burn the ensouled utterly with the flames of Surtur.

  That was enough information for Tom. He and Bailey sauntered forward toward Danny, and finally Danny noticed them. He started to act annoyed, walking toward them, and when they finally met in the middle of the room, Danny kicked at Bailey, whom quickly sidestepped the kick.

  “You are Danny, right?” Tom asked. Interestingly enough, Danny actually started to nod in agreement, but Tom had already pulled the new blade, and buried it in the middle of the sword tattoo on Danny, and through his heart as well. To be fair, Tom would have stuck Danny because of his attempt to kick Bailey, but it didn’t hurt that they were removing a civil danger at the same time.

  Tom pulled the knife from the man’s chest, using his robe to wipe the knife down, before reholstering it. A few moments later, He and Bailey were rolling down the interstate once more.

  ******

  4 Meet the Wolf

  Tom drove for about another four hundred miles without significant incident. He stopped twice to fill up the gas tank, stopping at Quik Trip stations, getting fuel, buying food and to use the restrooms. For some odd reason, there was always an area suitable for Bailey to walk about located behind every Quik Trip that Tom had ever seen. It would seem that chance would occasionally dictate that the stations would be against a car wash or a grocery store, but it never seemed to be the case.

  They finally arrived at a town which proudly proclaimed itself to be ‘Middletown’ which didn’t appear anywhere on Tom’s map, and should have been one of the outlying cities in the San Antonio area, but wasn’t. It didn’t seem to fit into the area and time that he expected. For instance, it was just now about five thirty in the afternoon, and already people seemed to be closing a lot of the storefronts.

  This was definitely a farmer’s town, filled with Farmer’s Cooperatives, and venues to sell farm produce, but even farmers in these times didn’t go to bed as soon as the sun went down any more. Tom walked over to the nearby Coop to try to get some answers.

  At the door, he met a young man who seemed intent on closing up. Accidently jamming the door with his foot, Tom addressed the young man. “Why is everything closing up so early around here? What is going on?”

  “There have been some wolves taking down cattle lately. Three or four people have also been taken, and torn apart.” The man said. “Just the other day, a farmer and his wife were taken out of their house on the other side of town. Since then, we haven’t taken any chances.”

  “Interesting. Is there a room for rent anywhere around here?” Tom asked.

  “No rooms available. Don’t you understand? Everyone is locking down their houses and protecting their families. You might find some rooms, abandoned at the old motel over there, but there will be no one around to check you in.”

  “Has anyone seen these wolves? How do you know that it is not dogs?” Tom asked.

  “We know that it is not any of our dogs, because the tracks are way too big, and any dogs we don’t take into the house gets torn apart during the nights.” The young man replied. “From the tracks, they estimate that the animal has to be at least two hundred pounds. Not something you want to meet at night.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Tom said. “Take care of yourself, young man.”

  With that exchange, Tom and Bailey walked away from the Coop, and returned to the van. Tom was torn between the need to get to a useful destination, and curiosity about what was causing the slaughter.

  “Well Bailey, let’s park on that hill over there, and see if we can see that wolf everyone is complaining about.” He settled back in the seat, and unscrewed the lid on a thermos of hot coffee that he had collected earlier, and pulled out his pack of Pall Malls and lit one up. It was now just after six, and the shadows were just getting longer.

  A couple of hours went by, and Tom had gotten out of the van once to take a piss. He was contemplating getting back on the interstate. He was basically here on this stakeout because of casual curiosity, wasn’t he? He couldn’t see how it would be worthwhile to sit here all night, just to satisfy a minor interest.

  Tom was just about to discuss the matter with Bailey, when Bailey interrupted the process by emitting a low growl. His doggie face was pointed straight down the hill in the center of the trail. Looking down in the little valley, under a half fu
ll moon, he saw the man that he met at the Coop standing at the crossroads of this road with another road. The man had just begun to unbutton his shirt, having already taken off his shoes. As he was removing his clothing, his frame was starting to shudder and undulate.

  Another moment, and the man was kneeling in the center of the crossroads contorting in obvious agony, and his face and limbs were starting to deform. It may have been a trick of the light, but his body also appeared to be covered by a light carpet of hair that did not exist a moment before.

  Finally, the man looked almost like a large wolf, with just a suggestion of the human form left, and second by second, the metamorphosis was being completed. Bailey went crazy when this occurred, barking loudly and frantically as he leaped out of the open side window of the van, and rushed down the hill to meet the wolf.

  “Goddamn it, hound, get back here!” Tom yelled. With a momentary concern that the wolf might injure or kill his travelling companion, Tom started the engine and gunned the van down the hill in pursuit of the dog. Bailey was standing just out of reach of the wolf, barking defiantly at the wolf and dancing around the bigger animal.

  Tom impacted the wolf with the corner of the van, causing some structural damage to the headlight and fender on the right front side of the car, and throwing the wolf a good ten feet to impact against a nearby ironwood tree. Tom got out of the van, and cautiously approached the wounded animal. The wolf appeared to be stunned, almost unconscious, and Tom took the opportunity to cut the animal’s throat with the nice silver knife that he still considered a mystery.

  Bailey had calmed down and was sniffing the corpse of the wolf. The wolf did not seem to have any intention to change back into the young man anytime soon, contrary to most of the werewolf movies that Tom had ever seen. Tom searched the abandoned clothing of the man, managing to rescue almost three hundred dollars and a small 32 caliber handgun from the pile of clothes. The Zippo went into his right front pocket as well. No more lighting his cigs with Bics until the lighter fluid burned out on this Zippo.

  Just as he straightened up from his task, the sound of wolves howling seemed to erupt from everywhere around them, although none of them sounded closer than a mile. It was time to leave. It took him and Bailey about thirty more seconds to pile into the van, and begin a decent acceleration toward the interstate. This town could keep its werewolves! Most of the people here must have been turned by now, anyway. The question is; did they know it?

  They spent another hour on the road before the radiator started to steam on the van. Tom pulled off to the side of the interstate, and raised his hood. About two minutes later, a very nice RV pulled off just in front of them. The driver came down to see if they needed help. It turned out that the Hawaiian shirted family man was headed to a Florida vacation, and had his thirteen year old boy and his wife with him on this trip.

  An hour later, Tom was cruising down the interstate in the RV with Bailey, having made an even trade with the former owner. Tom now had the RV, and the man was in possession of the van, where, along with his wife and kid, he now occupied the back cargo area of the van. Tom had found a small swampy area close to a hidden creek to park the van, where the man and his family should not be disturbed for some time to come.

  ******

  5 Puddled People

  Tom sat back down into the driver’s seat of the RV. He had been parked at the rest stop for about an hour now, trying to figure out exactly what had happened to the world. After driving down Interstate 10 and failing to find any sign of San Antonio, or anyone who knew where it was, or even that it existed, he reached the ramp to Interstate 35, which should go to Dallas. It should, but once again, the signage did not mention Austin or Dallas or Ft. Worth, or any other city that Tom knew lay on that route. The signs declared the existence of Mildew, and Norfed, and Deadhead, and other cities that Tom had never heard of, and that were not on his maps.

  Tom had also heard from a fellow Rest-stopper that crossing into Mexico was a very bad idea nowadays. Apparently, the Mexicans had built a continuous border fence to keep those North Americanos out of their country. The Mexicans didn’t want our kind coming across to use their superior medical and social support systems. Tom felt that he must be sadly out of date. The last he had heard, it was the United States that had those sentiments, and far less resolve than the Mexicans had displayed.

  Tom lit another Pall Mall while he contemplated his next moves. The RV was proving to be a most satisfying way to travel. He had a momentary twinge of regret at the sad end of the providers of this fine vehicle. The next time he was in a bar, he resolved to drink a silent toast to his unknown benefactors.

  Tom had spent all of yesterday driving, and didn’t pull over to get any sleep until almost dawn. He had noticed another peculiarity about the roads. The interstates were the familiar ones, but they didn’t seem to have most of the familiar landmarks and cities along them. Also, Interstate 10, and so far, Interstate 35, seemed to be a lot longer than they were supposed to be. From the odometers of the old van and this shiny new toy, they had already gone almost three thousand miles on this trip, which was much further than their positions justified. It should have put them somewhere off the Florida or Georgia coasts.

  Relax while you can, he had always said. This was a nice place to kick back for a few more hours, stocking up on a couple of good meals and a good long sleep before proceeding to the next listed city, another unknown one called Elkskull. Tom grabbed the nearby Bailey, and gave him an affectionate ruffing up. Bailey reacted with a smidgen of surprise, having been awakened by the process.

  He pulled out the fifth of Scotch that he had under the seat, and poured a nice double shot of it. It was just starting to rain outside, and in combination with the drink and the smoke; it was providing a relaxing environment for introspection.

  He adjusted the side window so that he could feel the rain without getting a lot of water on his arm. He settled back in the seat and gave Bailey’s willing head a pat, just as a black crow landed on the framework of the side mirror just beyond his window.. It stared at him for a few seconds, let loose with a gravelly ‘caw’, ejected a copious stream of white crap down the side of the RV and flapped off into the rain. So much for respect from the universe at large.

  And it was indeed a strange universe, he reflected. As he had noted before, the interstates seemed to be much longer than they were supposed to be, and the lands that they led to were different than what geography specified. There were things living out here, and events happening out here, which were totally different from what was supposed to exist out here.

  This seemed to be different from the blindness of others to the causes of events. The further away from home that one travelled, the more the world seemed to be different. For instance, this area seemed to be a rolling, mountainous area, whereas the central Texas of the normal world was a flat or gently rolling area of soil, not rock.

  Tom considered himself to be one of the more perplexing aspects of this new world. He had tried to remember his past, and realized that his memory started to get a bit foggy somewhere around fifteen years ago and he could not remember anything from twenty years ago. He considered himself to be an alright guy, but he was having a hard time squaring that with the ease with which he had snuffed out four, maybe five people’s lives in the last week.

  Tom wasn’t quite sure what he was on the road for. Maybe he was just seeking a nice, normal place to settle down without the unsettling strange events that constantly deluged him. Was the world all like this, or was there a place of normalcy out there somewhere? Maybe he was seeking a way to fix the world, to make it normal. That seemed a bit more heroic than he considered himself, but you never know what sort of drivel could be dredged up from your subconscious minds.

  Bailey whined to be let out to use the big outdoor litter box, and Tom opened the passenger door for him. Bailey scooted out into the rain, and started industriously seeking the precise spot with the pristine holiness necessary to acc
ept the donation of the dog excreta. More than five minutes, and almost six minutes, Bailey was gone, and when at last he returned he was not alone.

  A long haired man in his mid-twenties slipped into the passenger seat with Bailey at his side. Tom almost dispatched him by reflex, but at the last minute, he restrained himself due to curiosity. Why had Bailey brought this man back to the RV? The dog was usually a good judge of character, and he seemed to like this lad.

  The young man stroked his long hair backward, and then extended his damp hand to introduce himself. Tom reached behind him and grabbed the towel that was there, in compliance with the Hitchhiker rules, and threw it to the dripping newcomer. The guy took a moment to towel himself relatively dry, and then he extended his hand once again for shaking.

  “Hi. I am George.” The guy said. “I am just passing through this burg, headed east. My car blew a head gasket in this fine town, and hitchhiking doesn’t seem to work in Texas.” He grinned and gave Tom’s hand a vigorous shaking, similar to the shaking given to a new found possum by any self-respecting hound dog.

  “Hi, I am Tom, and you have already met Bailey.” Tom said. “We are headed east ourselves, going for a much needed vacation in my Uncle’s RV here. Why are you traveling?”

  George gave Tom a dubious and slightly secretive look. “I heard that there is some sort of spiritual Sage over in Arkansas somewhere that has answers. I was told that those that seek the Sage will find the Sage. I decided to check it out.”

  Tom gave a little chuckle, and pulled out the bottle of whiskey, and passed it to George. George took a swig and passed it back to Tom.

  “Don’t believe everything you hear. What is this ‘Sage’ supposed to have answers to?” Tom asked. He took out two more Pall Malls, and offered one to George, putting the other one in his own mouth.