Desitiny in the Canyon of Souls

                                       

Destiny in the Canyon of Souls

         The plateau was quiet.  From the south a soft wind blew caressing the chutes of cotton weed and stirring up tiny dancing dirt devils in the moon light.  I was alone.  Not uncommon in the vast wastelands of the Grand Canyon, but sometimes unsettling under the blinking stars and meandering clouds.

         Throwing another log on the fire I unfurled my bedroll and laid it out before getting up to brush my teeth and take the nights last piss.  Pulling my long coat tighter about me I stretched and walked to a small outcropping that would protect me from the wind while I did my thing.  Before I could finish zipping the sound of tumbling gravel interrupted me.  I grabbed my crossbow and knocked a bolt.  Quietly I moved out from the jutting stone and peered around the corner.

         A man dressed in business casual was stumbling about in the dark.  He looked drunk with his staggered deliberate movements.  I raised my crossbow and flicked the flashlight on.  I was shocked to see a skeletal looking man wearing tattered clothes that was only scraps in some places.  His face was gaunt and sunken, one eye hung aloft to the side and his hair was stringy and sparse.  I aimed and pulled the trigger, the bolt struck his chest and passed through like it had hit paper.  A plume of dust exploded from his back and obscured the view behind him.

         "What the hell are you."  I said as I reloaded my weapon.  The man just kept walking slowly towards me.  A slight audible moan slithered out of his mouth.

         "Ok buddy, just stop right there."  Pleading for time to decide what to do.  I had never seen anyone take a bolt to the chest and just keep coming.  When he wouldn't stop I released another shot and struck his head.  His skull crumbled beneath his dried skin and he fell to the ground.  I knocked another bolt.

         Walking slowly to the thing on the ground, for I decided it was not a man any longer, I knelt and was shocked to see that what I had killed had already been dead before.  Checking his pockets I found a small leather wallet.  Inside was a card that said Driver's License and had the markings of the old State of Texas.  The date was June 2nd, 2049.

         Standing I put my crossbow back in it's holster and walked to my little camp.  I stopped midway -- something wasn't right.  The wind felt different, the light seemed dimmer.  Looking around I realized I wasn't alone.  Several human shaped bodies stood motionless around me.  Some stood on the small outcroppings of stone and others stood in my camp.  They just stared at me with empty orbs.  I wasn't sure what to do.  Run?  Fight?

         

         Choosing to run I ran through the camp and grabbed my pack before swiftly darting out into the open dirt plains.  Running full speed I prayed that the clouds would not obscure the moonlight that I so desperately needed in order to see rocks and gaps in the ground.  Chancing a glance behind me I didn't see any pursuers so I slowed to catch my breath, and put my heart back in my chest.

         Panting I reached for my water skin and found it missing.  I had left in the camp.  I pulled my pack off and opened the side pocket taking out a small hand drawn map.  According to my notes there wasn't another watering hole for another seven miles.  That distance might as well be a hundred in the frigid temperatures and dangers nighttime trek.  Swearing under my breath I put the map back and once again bore the burden of my pack.

         Walking more somberly now I searched for any place that offered shelter from the wind and protection from those things.  Were there more out here?  That question weighed on my mind as I searched the vast vistas for shelter.  Finally I saw a flickering light in the distance towards a cliff and overhang.  I would have to chance the encounter if I were to have water and shelter.  I half walked ha jogged to a distance of about a hundred yards.  I flicked on my light and walked slowly the rest of the way.
         As I approached and elderly man with a ring of feather on his head stood and opened his arms as if welcoming a friend.  Before him sat a small round table with food and water laid out.

         "Welcome stranger.  Please sit, drink and eat.  We have much to discuss."

         Throwing caution to the wind I walked up and sat at the small table.  This had to be a dream.  Fresh fruit!  I gorged myself and with wild abandon drank of his water.

         "Mister, your a strange one.  Such kindness for someone you don't know?"  Half question, half statement I stared and waited for his response.

         "The plains and mountains of this region once flourished with plants and animals.  My people lived in peace and harmony with nature.  It is only right, you being a natural thing, I should be kind and generous to you."

         I finished the last bit of water and felt strangely relaxed.  Relief washed over my face and for the first time in a long time I felt safe.

         "Your people?  Kind of cryptic.  Your not with those walking dead are you?"

         "The Anasazi have watched over the Grand Canyon for over 2000 years.  We have protected it from the ravages of plagues, marauders and the evil spirits that dwell inside the Great Mother."  He sat down cross legged next to the fire and stoked it lightly with a metal bar. "Now a great plague has once again come and there is no one left to fight it."
         His face seemed to change.  The jovial host now took on a more somber look.  The look of a man who has seen the inevitable and knows he can not stop it.

         "Plague?  What kind of plague makes the dead walk?"

         "Since man decided to kill himself with the weapons of war evil has clawed it's why from the depths of the earth and has taken residence in our dead.  Creating an army of unwilling but passive soldiers that will stop at nothing to finish what we started with our wars."
         
         I am not sure how long we sat silent, starring at the flickering amber flames in the fire pit.  Thoughts of seeing an army of the dead chilled me to my core and went against all common sense.  Finally I broke the silence.

         "Can it be stopped?  This evil?"

         "One must first find the source and close the gate it uses to pass between our world and it's.  Assuming one finds the gate his life he may have to forfeit to seal the door.  Then a great purging must occur and the dead put back to rest."

         The next thing I remember is waking to the light of the brilliant sun falling on my face.  A slight headache throbbed under my skullcap.  I jumped up and looked around to find myself in an empty cave.  A small pit glowed with tiny ambers from a fire.  Other than that I was alone.  On the walls of the cave I saw faded drawings of a long forgotten people.  In one image a man sat with a ring of feathers about his head and had his arms opened in welcome.  Before him was a long table full of fruits, meats and wines.

         "A dream." I mumbled to myself.  But it was time to shove off.  I grabbed my pack and for whatever reason glanced to the ground it had occupied.  A parchment, rolled and sealed was underneath my pack.  I unrolled it and a small feather floated to the ground.  I caught my breath and a tingle ran down my spine.  The parchment read:

         For the innocence of man and the survival of his kind the evil must be sealed back in it's earthen grave.  Purge the evil from those who can not talk but walk as puppets, the dead that have risen.  The fate of man lies in his own hands who have wrought this upon himself through hate, fear, and greed.  Find the rock marked with man's disease and this will lead you to the source.          

         From outside the cave I heard the familiar sound of moaning and the shuffling of feet in the sand.  I looked and a lone figure staggered my way.  I knew what had to be done but I could not do it alone.  I brought my crossbow about and fired into his head.  He dropped and I swear a tiny cracked smile crossed his face.  I needed to move once more and find someone to help me.

         As I walked from the cave I Chinese proverb came to mind and I said it out loud as if to assure myself I could still speak, "To get through the hardest journey we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping."

         So I stepped out and continued stepping towards where the first bomb dropped.  I figure that man's disease was hate and what a better place to start looking for the source then where hate was dropped on us.  Perhaps on the way I would find people to fight with me.

         Keep on stepping.