Matthew examined his newest find, a large hunting knife with a long edge and rubber handled grip. The blade came with a leather holder. It was sharp and felt balanced in his hand. He swung it a few times to test how it felt and realized he was rather good at edged weapons. A thought came to him. He was, in his earlier days, a martial arts enthusiast and some type of teacher, but his mind closed up to him and he couldn't remember who and what he was or if he was married and had kids. It seemed that his life began in the back alley where the police had taken him and transported him to the large hospital, and that memory slipped from him like water through a sieve.

He sat on a patch of grass next to a half torn wall, tattered and forlorn looking. His back was against the barrier. He had a small fire burning a few yards in front of him. In this enclosed area, he had enough warmth for the night. This was better than before where he slept in a small alley with a dumpster and a cardboard blanket to keep him company.

A name came to him. It was another street person like him, John or Joseph. He didn't know his name. He was just called Clacker, but not because he liked to clap or cause a ruckus. It was because he would clack his teeth at odd times. Clacker was a Vietnam Vet and had some horrible experiences during the war but he never talked about it.

It was several years ago, he thought. Matthew's memory had been murky for a while and things he thought happened yesterday were years ago. It was a night colder than this when they were sitting around a bonfire under a freeway underpass, far away from the businesses and policemen. Clacker was telling him about a time when he had the best pussy in the world.

Clacker would speak a few words and then look away and clack his teeth together, then he would start talking again. When Clacker clacked his teeth he had a faraway look and his mouth would slacken, falling slightly ajar like he was in a trance.

Matthew was not listening because Clacker had a habit of telling a story several times, even Matthew had already heard it. Matthew only kept him around because Clacker always had some food with him, a cracker here and there or a can of food or soup. Clacker had a way of getting food. He went to a homeless shelter. Matthew always stayed away from these shelters because he was known as violent. He wasn’t, but they thought he was. Matthew may have hit somebody in line once, when he was getting lunch.

This time, Clacker’s story had changed. He usually talked about the time when he was in college when he was in a fraternity and he had a prostitute. Except, he started to talk about the time when he was in the bush waiting for Charlie to kill him.

"Yes, it was a hot night when I sat in the bush with the mosquitos biting my ass, and my best friend next to me. We were sent to scout this part of that god-forsaken jungle."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Clacker stopped talking and clacked his teeth. Matthew turned to him. He had never heard this story before.

"So, I had my gun out before me. We heard noises in the jungle. Somebody screamed and we wanted to run out of the foxhole, but Charlie is tricky. He wants you to leave your hole so he can kill you. So we stayed in our hole. Suddenly, gunfire erupted. I heard my commander yell to fire. I shot my gun and until it burnt my hand. Mortar shells started to fall all around us, but we stayed in our foxhole. Then I turned to look behind me and my friend was dead. His head was split open and his blood was flowing. I screamed and stood and shot into the bush. Charlie was ready for me."

He stopped talking, clacking away. Clacker kept on smacking his teeth, then he looked at the fire, staring at it with such intensity that Matthew thought he was going buggy, a term he had called other street people who leave their minds with the bugs, but keep their bodies in place. Then Clacker was back. He screamed and started to talk gibberish.

"I killed them. I ran into the bush. Charlie was all around me. They were talking in their language that sounded like angry yelling. I killed them all until I was shot in the head."

"You killed them all?" Matthew said.

"Yes, they gave me a medal."

Clackers stopped and clack his teeth.

"You did. You never told me that."

"What? I was saying you should have seen her. She was the best pussy I have ever had. She was tall with the biggest breasts you have ever seen."

"We were talking about the war."

Clackers stared at him in an uncomprehending way. "I can’t talk about that."

Clacker started to ramble on with some story he had told him before.

***

Matthew awoke with a jerk. He thought he heard a noise and movement coming from the darkness beyond him. It was not yet morning and his fire had smoldered to nothing. He glanced around and saw nothing around him except the broad shelf of debris and broken earth and a tree half out of the ground. Then he saw it coming out of the burnt fires. He had seen this before. A vision, a place he needed to find. He watched the vision like he was watching a TV screen.

He knew there would be war and turmoil and he also saw himself with three others, entering a vast temple underground with light filtering through water. It didn't make sense to him. But they were there through the portal. He knew the man next to him. He was the Leader, the one person who could take them out of turmoil and lead them. Matthew also noticed he was bloodied and barely standing.

He wondered what had happened to him. His newfound powers should protect him. He had been practicing since he knew his element was fire. Magic was finally bestowed on him by the blood of the earth when it was spilled along the land. Yet, destruction reigned when the Bastions were opened. He knew that for sure and he also knew it was his choice and the others to open the Bastions. He shook his head and wondered why he knew all this, but the answer wouldn’t come to him. Tomorrow, he knew for sure, he would meet his Leader and comrade.