CHAPTER 39
“A plan is only as smart as the people executing it…”
These were the opening words of the processing officer lecturing the new bus of convicts that had just arrived at his prison. The wannabe Cool Hand Luke warden had seen one too many prison movies. Having worked for that officer as a prisoner, Cory heard the speech on a daily basis. The guy's point was that we all tried, failed, and were caught: boo-hoo.
These aren’t the brightest people.
Since Cory often abused the “no plan is the plan” plan it wasn’t a surprise to Kopius when things started to turn sour. In an ideal world he would have slid through the legs of the tall skeleton, gotten to his feet, bounded over the stream of eye funk, and ended it all by chasing down Cici’s punkass. The skinwalkers would focus on the new target and while all those assholes did a tango, Kopius would be splitsville. Easy-peasy, right?
At first, putting the door slamming to the side, things went well. The skinwalkers, having the skeleton between them and Kopius, opted to pounce on the large set of bones. There was a struggle as the skinwalkers attacked with fervor.
The large skeleton, at first, had dropped its shield as the skinwalker latched onto its bones. It attempted to pry them off but to no avail. The skeleton dropped its sword when things got really bad and would pull one off while two others grabbed hold.
In the midst of this whirlwind, Kopius cradled his injured arm all while scooting away from the madness like an inchworm.
An animal's worth of bones fell and scattered on the ground. What Kopius had thought was a slain skinwalker couldn’t have been further from the truth. Two more sets of bones fell before he could start to smell the cooking.
That’s not good, Kopius summarized as he watched them trade one set of bones for another. Instead of the skinwalkers dying, they had reworked themselves on the structure of the giant skeleton. In a matter of moments, all the skinwalker skins were crawling, wrapping or otherwise attaching themselves to the tall warrior. In a very short time, the skinwalkers overtook and fully covered the skeleton, morphing into a giant, skinwalker monstrosity.
The new and improved monster took the form of some feral, diseased ridden, STD carrying Furry. It had more acid-burned, splotched skin than it did hair, and the thing looked like nightmare fuel. From the ground, the beast appeared even taller and more menacing. Kopius stopped his feeble attempt to scoot away and breathed through his dense pain.
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A stillness passed through Kopius as he lay crippled on the dirt—it wasn’t quite an epiphany, more of an acceptance. If he could fight, he would. If he could run, he’d do that too. The fact of the matter was, he knew. The strange part of it all was the absence of fear. It had plagued him one way or another for so long, he had no idea what it felt like to be free of it. In a moment that he should feel hopeless and weak, he felt oddly at peace and in control.
Once the beast had situated itself, it turned its ire back to Kopius. The first step the monster took towards him, Kopius mentally thanked his mother for never giving up on him. Its second step, he apologized to his family: I could have been better. On its third step, he forgave himself, a feat he rarely, if ever, performed. A single tear carved a valley through the blood and dirt and funk that made up Kopius’s face.
A shadow passed over Kopius before the giant monster came into his vision. It looked down upon him with its pulsing orb eyes as if to study him. Globs of orb funk, dripped from the skeletons eye as if it was a permanent infection.
“Come on,” Kopius said in a ‘‘lets get this over with’’ fashion.
The skeleton simply cocked its head to the side to get a better look.
“Come on!” he shouted, unwilling to wince at the pain it caused.
The creature straightened a bit, seemingly unaware or unfazed by the taunting.
“Let’s go, asshole,” Kopius hissed through gritted teeth. He then grabbed a handful of dirt with his good hand and tossed it up at the monster. “I ain’t got all day,” he whispered.
The creature bent down halfway and let out another mind-bending screech. It then reared back and kicked Kopius in the side, sending him sprawling across the ground. If his ribs were still intact, some of them were most certainly broken now. Kopius wheezed in short gasps, spiking pain coming with each breath. He rolled to his back to see his foe further away picking up its dropped sword.
As the skinwalking skeleton turned and headed back to finish him off, Kopius noticed something over the monster's shoulder. It was nothing at first, a tiny, bright light in the distance like a faraway sun. For all he knew, hallucinations had kicked in. Yet with each large step the skeleton took towards him, the light followed. It not only followed, it got bigger and the light more intense.
I guess in Metem, the light comes to you?
Kopius had to shield his eyes as the brightness began to consume the entire horizon. With the monster only halfway to him, he wondered which would kill him first: the skeletal mass of skinwalkers or the miniature sun hurtling right at them.
One more bony step closer and Kopius heard the faintest whistling sound. It was like an arrow zipping through the air or a tennis ball canister opening except the sound continued, growing with each passing moment. The light shone with an intensity that became too much, making Kopius clench his eyes shut and turn away. Moments before the whole world exploded, Kopius felt the all-consuming heat of a shooting star.