Matthew watched as the Leader sat across from him. Lazarus led him toward several cars along the stretch of highway. Most of the cars had rotting dead bodies inside them, a macabre sight in the dim light of dusk. They stopped a few feet away on the clear area from the freeway. The tidal wave had pushed most of the vegetation and cars far off in an area, piled high like building blocks. Most of the people had died inside their automobiles that were smashed and buried in the debris.

He cooked them a dinner of roasted rabbit. The war dog, Sammy, was becoming invaluable to their quest. Matthew wanted to smile and jump for joy because all these years people thought he was crazy, but now he was destined to be on a journey and complete his quest. It had finally happened, but not the way he expected.

He had dreamt about this quest for years, since he had been living on the streets and before, in a different life. He held a memory in his mind. He thought he saw himself standing in front of a group of people in a vast auditorium. They were listening to him. He was a teacher of something, but he couldn't recall what he taught. It was fuzzy, like seeing through a murky and dirty glass.

He also recalled a beautiful brunette woman, who, he thought, was his wife. Matthew shook his head. This could not be. He didn't want to remember, it hurt him. His life was chaotic, moving from place to place and living on the streets, fighting for every meal and running from the police. Nobody understood. He had to embark on this quest.

The elves visited and told him. He was supposed to meet this Leader and find the ancient city. But this catastrophe which had destroyed Los Angeles was not something he thought would happen. And this Leader of his, Lazarus, was not the person Matthew thought should lead them. He seemed fussy and inexperienced with living out in the wild and the streets. He was not like Matthew, who had been on this quest for years. Matthew took a large stick and poked the fire. For some reason the elves had picked this man to be their Leader and Matthew had no choice but to comply. He didn't have a choice so many years ago and he didn't have a choice now.

Visions and memories came to him. He remembered he was a teacher, a teacher of something at a college. Then he saw the brunette woman again. She was hugging him and smiling. They had many good times together and then he remembered a small child whose name was Lizzy. She died. The fuzziness of his brain encroached into his sight and mind. He did not want to remember. Pain and sadness were all he felt. He also saw a large carousel. The kind you would see at a carnival filled with fantastic sea creatures, horses and animals. It was turning and turning and he saw himself sitting on a white horse with Lizzy in front of him as they rode up and down and round and round. They waved at the brunette lady as they rode the horse and all was good.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Matthew's brain hurt and he grabbed his temples.

Lazarus said, "What’s wrong? Are you hurt?"

The Leader was on his feet staring at him with sadness and shock in his eyes.

"It was the carousel. I don't want to see it. She is gone."

"Who is gone?"

Sammy also stood and glanced around warily.

"Nobody, it doesn’t matter."

Matthew didn't want to explain to Lazarus about his old life because they were gone, gone like the many pills and medicine they gave him when he was a patient at the hospital, the sanitarium where others liked him stared at nothing and secretly wanted to leave but didn't dare to because the orderlies watched them like a hawk.

***

Lazarus was concerned about the big man. Matthew grabbed his head and howled like a banshee to the sky. And when he tried to ask him what was wrong, Matthew would not tell him. Lazarus thought Matthew was deeply disturbed and should be on some kind of medication. He wondered if Matthew would go crazy, use his powers, and decide to kill him and Sammy. The big man was quiet now, staring at the flames of the fire and pushing the logs with a long stick.

Lazarus lay on his sleeping bag. It was a cool night but not cold. They had checked all the cars on this part of the warped freeway and the cars either had dead bodies or were destroyed beyond drivability. They might have to walk the rest of the way.

He sensed somebody watching him. He thought he saw a brief flash, a light came close to him and then it was gone. Gazing at the area, he saw nothing but cars piled on top of each other, but the feeling of being watched was still there. It was like being in a store with people all around you staring and gawking at you. This presence was familiar, as if he knew the person and he knew where he needed to head, and it was far away.

Matthew said, "You know where we should go."

Lazarus was surprised he knew. He wondered if he could read his mind, but then understood it was something else.

"You felt it, too. You sensed the other person watching us."

"Yes, there were eyes on me. I don’t like eyes on me. It makes me feel wrong."

"Do you need extra medication? We can try to look for something."

"No! I don’t need those things. Not after…"

Matthew gazed at him with eyes that had so much hurt in them that Lazarus had to look away and study the fire. There was something in Matthew. Something he didn’t want to remember and Lazarus didn’t want to coax him to tell him. Some things should be kept secret.