Chronicles of the Oderi:

Ythica

 

Chapter 1

           

     The batwing doors swing shut, and Sebastian takes a seat at the vacant end of a row of barstools. The barkeep dries a glass mug to the chatter of local gossip and a somber twang on the jukebox.

     “What’re ya havin’?”

     Sebastian peers from under the bill of his hat and slides  some money across the counter.

     “Bourbon, no ice.”

     The barkeep tosses a coaster onto the counter and places a glass atop, filling it halfway.

     “Haven’t seen ya ‘round. You passin’ through?”

     Sebastian sips the bourbon.

     “Yeah.”

     “Where ya headed?”

     Sebastian glares exhaustedly from over his glass.

     “Taking the Western Trail to Texas.”

     “Ah, the ol’ cattle trail. ‘Lot of my business comes through that trail.”

     Sebastian looks away, struggling to hide his disinterest. The barkeep’s voice rattles on in the back of his mind, while he observes the wood-paneled walls, full of old memorial pictures and faded newspaper clippings depicting the extensive history of the weathered saloon. Above the bar hangs a six-shooter, displayed between hand-made signs warning against cheating and stealing.

     Sebastian gulps the last of his bourbon and rises from his stool, throwing his rucksack over his shoulder. The barkeep grabs a town map from beside the register and slaps it down in front of him, directing his finger over a northbound road.

     “This road’ll take ya to a small town north of here. There’s a bus there that’ll run ya to the border of Texas.”

     Sebastian gives a nod.

     “Thanks.”

     The barkeep returns the gesture and smiles.

     “I hope ya find what you’re lookin’ for.”

     Sebastian turns to walk away, replaying the statement in his mind. He stops abruptly and turns around.

     “What makes you think that I’m looking for something?”

     The batwing doors burst open. A farmer in mud-covered overalls lumbers into the center of the room, sweat dripping from his bloated face, shouting frantically.

     “You folks best find some cover. I just come from town, and a tornado done tore it ta shreds. The sucker’s gotta be a mile wide!”

     The barkeep hurries from behind the bar.

     “You’re sure it’s headed this way?”

     He nods.

     The barkeep files everyone out the back of the saloon to a storm shelter that is several yards away. He pulls open the doors, and all but Sebastian descend the stairs.

     “Get in!” he says.  

     Sebastian grabs the compass dangling from his neck. He looks to the northwest, watching the blackened sky swallow the landscape. The wind whips and whistles, lifting his hat from his head and tossing it skipping like a rock along the arid terrain. He rushes forward and tries to grab it, but it takes flight and bolts past his reach, vanishing into a hazy cloud of dust and debris. Sebastian peers into the haze, finding no sign of his hat.

     Thunder grumbles in the murky sky, and chunks of hail spear down at him.

     “Come on!” the barkeep shouts.

     Sebastian turns toward the shelter, but is drawn back to the storm by the sound of playful giggles. He sees a young girl skip through the dust clouds and run toward the storm, his hat in her swinging basket.

     “Nora?”

     Sebastian drops his rucksack and sprints after the girl, ignoring the barkeep’s verbal attempts to stop him.

     “Nora!”

     He trudges through the wind and hail, shielding his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. Large chunks of debris rain from the sky, smashing into the Earth like meteor strikes.

     “Nora!”

     A stout tree branch emerges from the black of the storm, heaving past Sebastian and gashing his face. He stumbles and falls to his back, battling unconsciousness while the world around him uproots and litters into the sky. Lightning bolts branch across the darkness, and thunder roars and rattles the landscape, lulling Sebastian into a deep sleep.

 

                                          ***

 

     The clank of a teacup on a small plate sends Sebastian’s eyelids fluttering open. He sits up and wipes the sleep from his eyes, examining the leather couch beneath him. To his side sits a frail old man staring blankly at a thick set of curtains across the room, rocking gently in his chair.

     Sebastian surveys the room, bewildered.

     “Where am I?”

     The old man continues to rock quietly, lighting his Billiard pipe and exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. Sebastian runs his hand across his bandaged face and springs to his feet.

     “What happened?”

     “You wandered into a storm. You are lucky to be alive.”

     Sebastian looks down on the old man, following the strands of his thin, greasy hair to the ends of his bony shoulder blades. His skin is cracked and parched, and his pale-colored eyes glimmer like two frosted orbs. 

     “What’s wrong with your eyes? Are you blind?”

     The old man chuckles deeply, drawing smoke from his pipe.

     “I could ask you the same question.”

     “There was a girl,” Sebastian says, “Nora…” Sebastian hangs his head. “I thought I saw a girl.”

     Sebastian looks up, meeting the pearly gaze of the old man.

     “There was no girl, Sebastian.”

     Sebastian’s heart sinks, and his body trembles.

     “How do you know my name?”

     The old man points the end of his pipe at the far side of the room.

     “Pull open the curtains.”

     Sebastian backs suspiciously toward the curtains. With a quick motion, he turns and spaces them apart, looking dreadfully at the oncoming storm. He turns quickly to face the old man, now standing at his back.

     “The storm is coming right for us!”

     The old man grips his shoulders and calms him with a soothing gaze.

     “And it will not stop until you are dead.”

     Sebastian is stunned, lost in the old man’s words. Questions flood his mind, but his lips lack the power to mouth a single word. His attention is drawn intently to the old man’s cracked lips as he speaks.

     “Follow me to the basement.”

     Sebastian stares blankly, his mind in a daze.

     “Okay.”

     They rush out of the living room and through the kitchen, down some concrete steps and into the shadows of the basement. The old man clicks on a lamp and illuminates the dingy room, littered with scraps of wood wall paneling. Exposed at the back of the basement is an embossed ironclad door that is set within a thick wall of brick and marked deeply with a prominent triangular emblem. The emblem consumes the door, showcasing a mighty sword crossed from behind by a staff and spear.

     “What's this?” Sebastian asks.

     The old man lights a lantern and hands it to Sebastian, then slides his hand along the wall and presses on a loose brick. The brick sinks into the wall, and the ironclad door grinds open, uncovering an abysmal passage.

     “Listen closely, Sebastian.” The old man grips his shoulders. “Follow this passage as far as it goes, and never look back.”

     Sebastian pulls away and inches toward the stairs.

     “You’re crazy!”

     The old man grabs hold of his wrist.

     “You have to trust me!”

     Sebastian jerks free from the old man's grasp.

     “Who are you?”

     Windows shatter and wind thrashes through the upper rooms of the house, hurling chairs and slamming doors.

     “Sebastian, you have to trust me. For your daughter.”

     Sebastian’s gaze widens.

     “What do you know about my daughter?”

     The old man points his bony finger into the dark passage.

     “If you want to save her, go! Now!”

     Sebastian pushes past the old man and dashes down the passage, lantern swinging wildly. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, while the old man's voice echoes throughout the tunnel, shouting, “Never look back! Run, Sebastian! Run!” The lantern-light dances on the damp concrete walls as Sebastian's legs propel him forward as fast as they can go. He runs until the old man’s voice can no longer be heard, until nearly all of his breath has escaped him.

     Gasp after gasp, he struggles to breath, finally dropping to his knees to dry-heave. As he tries to get up, he feels the grit of sand beneath his fingertips. He takes the lantern and shines it before him, illuminating a trail of white sand. He follows the trail to where the sand reaches the ceiling of the passage.

     Sebastian takes a shovel that is propped against the side of the passage and tunnels his way into the sand. He digs furiously until the final layer falls away, uncovering a mysterious land on the other side. Sebastian emerges from the passage and onto a vast beach, the sun just rising over the water. He stands in awe, watching the sand glimmer like jewels, bringing life to the hilled landscape. Disoriented, he looks to his compass and studies it for a brief moment before deciding to head north.