Memory

The Singularity

A bright screen burned the man’s eyes as he concentrated intensely on it, he broke off his line of thought frustrated, and rubbed his aching head slowly massaging his temple. The lab was dark and it was late, everyone had gone home; “Hey still working” the words shot through his relaxed body like lighting would cut through the air. Yet it was like a splash of cool water after running on a hot day, the glow of golden hair, the tickle of it on his neck, the vivid smell of perfume. A growing loud growing hum filled his ears until it was almost unbearable, then a sudden and deafening crack, everything went black.
He came too, confused and dizzy he tried to stand only to stumble and fall catching himself before the ground smashed his face in. For a moment he lay on the ground his eyes closed “Now where was I” the man hopelessly tried to go back to his last memory such a relaxing, and comfortable one it was. He opened his eyes then closed them again unable to let such a wonderful memory go his whole mind focused on that one memory, but he couldn’t remember. Then he came to a larger realization he couldn’t remember anything. He thrashed around on the ground furious with his lack of memory. As suddenly as his attack of rage had come it was now gone he looked at the ground “leaves...” the man picked up the leaves and dropped them. “Tree...” he pointed at a tree near by “Pine tree!” the words were exclaimed as if it was a revelation. He slowly turned his head and twisted around understanding and remembering what he had forgotten. But still he couldn’t remember the one memory he wanted it frustrated him but he was in control now. He looked down his pants and shirt where in taters but the bulk of his cloths were there. Something else caught his attention there was a sound in the distance, his head shot up like a fox or rabbit that has caught sent of danger. For a moment he and all nature seemed quiet, like the deep breath before the plunge. His stomach churned all he felt like doing was running he wanted to live, to see that one memory again...
“Here is the man of the hour to present to you his theory on singularity synthesis” claps and cheers echoed through the auditorium, the man stood behind a blue velvet curtain waiting to go on stage. But he couldn’t after all this all the work he couldn’t present his idea, he willed his feet to move him on stage after that there was no going back. Quickly he reached the podium, all eyes were set on him and their combined strength created an intensity that made him perspire, he stood at the podium waiting for the clapping to stop. The room fell silent but his voice had not yet filled the gap of silence, he tried to speak but only mouthed the words no voice came out, he looked around franticly a thousand thoughts went through his head what would they think, would they agree... his eyes scanned the crowed wide and fearful, then they fell upon a ray of light a twinkle of hope. There she was, her face that smile filled his mind with ease; and hope, doubt and fear was flooded out by such beauty and tranquility. She only gave a nod and he began “Singularities-“
His mind brought him back, fading out of a dream the wisp of past happiness was gone. Back to fear back to hell. He looked around again checking his surroundings his anxiety was still there but the memory had settled down his nerves, it seemed just when he had thought that any danger was gone a squeal was let out from the dense foliage and an arrow streaked across his face only inches away from his nose. It hit a tree next to him with a thwack, and he was thrown off balance. In sequence with the fired arrow the forest all around him exploded with motion a beastly yelp was shouted by animals in the distance who had burst out of the bushes just feet from himself. But at a second glance the man noticed they were not animals but people twisted and savage, their hair was shaven and breaded in a most un-civilized fashion, to add to their aurora of fear their faces were panted red and blue. The people wielded wooden clubs which they waved around in a threatening manner as to intimidate him. The man ran not to preserve his own life or safety rather because he wished only to see that sweet memory again before his death. He loved it the man thought he loved her... it; no longer did the man know the difference between memory and reality the line which separated those two was blurred for him. In that second he came to the realization that both memory and reality were both just a relevant and just as real. Why could he not love a memory sometimes memory was more satisfying then the reality of a situation. The memories ambiguity in reference did not matter to him only the memories immediate satisfaction and motivation to stay alive mattered. His daze was interrupted as he noticed the path ahead was blocked by dense foliage, that thin wall of leaf and branch was the line that separated life from death he thought, it was all that separated memory from reality. Without a doubt he decided to dive through the bushes, and did so. It took only a few seconds for him to wiggle through to the other side of the shrubbery. Rolling out of the bushes he landed in deep swampland, thinking that the savages might still be in pursuit he chose to hide in some reeds near by only about 20 feet from the edge of the forest land. There he lay in hiding, off in the distance he heard the crash of waves on a beach; but not the hooting or hollering of any unfriendlies. Thank god... he said in comfort letting out a deep sigh. Now what? He thought, I should go towards the shore get my bearings. With that the man turned his back to the woods and walked towards the hopeful sound of crashing waves.
“John, you almost done there c’mon its late I wana go home soon.” “Ya I think I might be here a while longer still have a lot to do.” John turned to look at her face, the sight stole the breath from his lungs turning his whole body to butter. The words which he was going to say escaped him, for her face and features where blessed with such perfection and beauty that in her presence he thought his own features must look crude and barren. Like the great jungle abundant with life and color next to the unforgiving savanna, which was without a surplus of colors, or life, or even a variety of vegetation; there only memory of such things that once existed there thrived.
“John.... John...” her voice called to him, from beyond the memory. It was so real he thought such was the cruelty of god to taunt men with happiness and comfort; for they did not know that such things were out of reach. Just beyond the horizon of possibility just enough beyond the clutches of such men that it was torturous. Oh what a cruel fate he thought to strive a whole life for that which complete a man and never be able to be completed, to never have been able to have that completion all along; but still god or fate or whatever evil thing you belived in lead you on and motivated you with such a completion all the time knowing... “So I am John, John A.Renault” he repeated, thinking it over as if choosing weather or not to like or keep it. He set that thought to the side and continued to walk forward through the reeds, in the distance he could see smoke rising now. Walking in its direction the swamp ground began to rise up out of the water and became patchy dry ground with puddles of water from which reeds grew out of, providing him still with the cover of dense foliage. As John got closer and closer to the smoke he started to hear voices. Then sea of reeds parted and there he saw the settlement, around it was a half erected wooden stockade; and in the center about 10 or 15 wooden houses had been constructed. Men surrounded the perimeter going about daily tasks digging, chopping, and a multitude of other random tasks for which their masters might have assigned them. John now stumbled into the town, for he was feeling fairly light headed. “Can I get some help...” he asked the workers in a light and weak voice, his eyes closing then being willed open only to wearily close again. “Yha ok over there Mr., looks like you’v been through he-“ the worker did not finish his sentence before John totally collapsed into the mud face first.
“NO, turn it off turn it off!!” a voice yelled, rather begged. John was clutching onto the edge of a doorway, his whole body was being pulled vertically into the room, it was as if gravity had suddenly shifted its pull from the ground to the center of the room which he was previously in. He attempted to figure out what was going on by turning around, but what he saw would only confuse him even further. In the center of the room a great red sphere which seemed to be clad in flame floated, twisting and turning sucking everything in the room into its vast nothingness; and just past the flame, the eye of evil, hung his love his memory, hanging just out of reach of that mysterious force which pulled and ripped at all matter in its vicinity. With every moment her strength to hold onto life was diminishing. Then that horrid grabbing pulling force caught hold of her and pulled her down, how easily darkness had snatched away everything that he loved. With such malice and un-remorse for him it had taken, stolen his light. John turned his head toward the door way, toward the ascension that was life; but then in a moment of rash emotion he twisted his head back around and his eye met the eye of the devil, he glared into the very heart of darkness seeing it pulse and beat. In that second his mind turned to spite and he let go of ascension choosing the path which lead him to his love. John fell and saw the gateway close up behind him, now he was in the darkness twisting turning through its vast and unforgiving emptiness. When the gate closed it was as if a great eye had blinked and not opened again so all light was gone. John tried to scream he tried to move but could do neither, there was nothing now he thought all he had left was the ability to think, all he had was consciousness.
John came too, his upper body shot up as he awoke. His whole body was wet with perspiration. “Oh dear sorry didn’t mean to disturb you” a women walked into the room, we looked to be in her late 40's. She was dressed in a red long dress with sleeves that were tied to the main section with leather thread, in her hands were wooden cups of water. “I brought up some water for you” she said while handing John a cup he took it and greedily drank the dark cool water. “Where am I?” “Well dear don’t you know?” the woman gave out a small chuckle but then stopped laughing when she saw how serious John was “well you are in James town, it’s the year 1700 if you must know.” John gagged on his water. “1700, well that’s...” John stopped and thought about it for a moment before he came to a conclusion. “I have to get out of here” he began to get up only to fall onto the ground, he noticed that he could not move his lower body at all. “I can’t move my legs, please give me a hand” the nurse kindly helped him back up onto the bed. “If you don’t mind me askin where do you come from?” He laughed at her question for the nurse to even begin to understand where he came from would require hours of explanation. “Oh me well I am from the year 2015… IF you must know” he said it with the most sarcastic tone. “Ya you know I was sucked in through a singularity if you must know the details. Actually it was one that I made, you know a black hole whatever you wana call it.” Now John was jesting with the nurse, he made hand motions jokingly attempting to explain the phenomenon better to her. The nurse began to look down at the ground, then turned and walked out the leather door. “Good I like it better alone” He stated to himself while relaxing on the straw bead, but John really couldn’t relax not really that memory was still so strong so real. It haunted his every living moment, her plea’s to turn “it” off still echoed in his head; but what was it? Well of course the singularity synthesizer…John answered his own question yet he did not know how, it seemed that his small amount of sleep had returned to him a large part of his intelligence. He dared another question for his mind what does the singularity synthesizer do? It fuses a group of subatomic partials to the point at which they become so densely packed together that a rift in space time is created there for creating an arterial singularity or as you so rudely put it a black hole…wow his subconscious self was horridly sarcastic and bitter John thought. I must have been sucked in through his singularity and spit out back here when it cased to exist. He remembered back to a book on space geometry he read as a young kid, it described time as a 2d map instead of a 1d line on which we only travel forward. Now if time was like the map every time period would be like a location, and he hypothesized that if you wanted you it would be possible to visit a certain location at a set date and time.
“Hey whatchya readin?” “its this book by Stephen Hawkings called a brief history of the universe. Its pretty interesting you should try it some time…” John looked over at his young friend, who’s face was blank, totally void of expression his mind is probably void of intelligence as well he thought “ya whateva man your pretty crazy” the kid gave John a look of pure confusion and walked away. “Johns over there readin about some crazy book or something I don’t know…” said the kid when he thought he was out of John’s hearing range “Ya he’s always doing something odd… what a freak” another boy commented. John’s face swelled with an expression of utter hate his mind began brooding plans of payback for that comment for their ignorance. Instead he just shook his head and stopped reading.
The memory ended and he shook his head as if trying to shake a less happy memory out of it. But now dozens of other memories similar to that one re surfaced and he had to think of something else to stop from going insane. Then he fell upon an idea, if I was spat out here what happened to her? He remembered just before things in the lab had gone haywire he was programming into the singularity controller its end destination. One destination was for Livermore Ca. 2015 in the lab next to their own this was just to test if the singularity was actually a singularity. Then for the second location he had set the singularity for South Virginia, to check out the range of this particular rift. Of course everything went crazy and for some reason the gravitational strength of the black hole was increased significantly. So if I am at the second location in 1700 the first traveler must be at the first location at the same date… She’s here now just thousands of miles away. My love is here. A great smile stretched across his face and John felt like jumping out of bed and running full sprint towards the west.

Creation Crazy


For the next day John laid in his bed, even though his body was resting; his mind was not. Of the nurse John asked for only 4 things paper, pencil, food and drink; with these items he brooded in that dark room for hours and hours on end without sleep or mental rest. All his mind was focused on was getting to her, of achieving that goal and one day being able to lay in the sun with his love with his memory. He was obsessed, infatuated with the very thought of that memory it haunted him around ever corner of his mind she lay and in every dark spot of his conscious her detail rested, because of that his knowledge of her was limited and ambiguous. And every waking moment he begged for another flash back, just one more but he was not granted one. Even that night as he slept he was not gifted a view of her beauty and grace. All this drove him harder and in the morning he was ready for what must be done to reach her, to make his memory real.
John woke early and proceeded to see if he was able to walk, cautiously he put one leg on the floor then the other and pushed off the bed with his arms, for a brief second he thought that his legs would crumble under his bodies full weight and he would come crashing down to the ground; but he didn’t instead he stood high above the earth and began to walk rather pace around the room. Gaining more and more confidence in his ability to walk every moment. “Oh that’s splendid sir you can walk!” the nurse commented while entering the room, “Yes it is very splendid…” John said his mind was concentrated on another matter. “Who is this settlements leader I would like to speak with him as soon as possible.” The nurse was caught off guard by this request, and her face displayed her confusion. “Don’t you think you can get out of a good days work boy, we need some things done around here and-“ “I can assure you its not about a work schedule, I will be doing plenty a work today. But before I start it is imperative I speak to your leader. You see I plan on offering my… services instead of a purely manual labor as payment which I think you will see is much more helpful to your current situation. Now I need to speak to your leader about this matter since I think you can hardly provide me with the materials which I will require to perform my tasks…” The last part was said with a smart attitude “I see” responded the nurse with less heart then before. She left the room returning several minutes later with a what John gathered to be the settlement leader. He had black hair which was long and unkept, his figure was a lean one which at the first look might lead someone to think he was weak but upon looking at the mans think gnarled arms and muscularly shaped chest anyone would agree we was not a meek man. Rather one built for long manual labor. “Yes…” The man said with an impatient tone, “Hi I am John Renault, and I think I can be of some use to your settlement here-“ “Listen Laddy, I don’t got no time for crazy mumblings about the future nor do I have a need for it; instead I have a need for labors and that’s were your going.” “Fine so I guess you really wouldn’t be interested in a gun that is 10 fold stronger then the ones you have, or lighter metals, even brand new building materials ones that you have only dreamed of.” The man was in disbelieve that John could truly deliver all of these things but the look on his face suggested that he would give him a chance, and that was all that John needed. “Well then nice to meet you stranger” with a more accepting tone then before “I’m Ben, Ben Nottingham” he said shaking John’s hand. Ben stopped shaking and looked John in the eyes “This doesn’t mean I believe you entirely but I’m going to give you a chance to prove yourself, you look like an honest man.” Ben turned and lead John out of the hut “We’v fallen on hard times here, the native devils have us nearly on the brink of total annihilation” Ben explained while walking John around the encampment. “Well one of your problems might be that your little start up settlement is on marshland, its no good for foundations. That and your on level ground you don’t have a tactical advantage on the natives besides that you are behind a wall, which isn’t even fully build yet. Even when you do have a wall the range you gain from is useless since the natives are going to just use those reeds as cover , then before you know it they are all over you.” “Well stranger I am impressed with your tactical knowledge, but unfortunately these peasants are unwilling to move, otherwise I would have moved from this god forsaken location months ago. Now tell me more about these improved firearms.” Ben asked, with a glow of greed in his eyes “Yes, onto business then, give me a skilled blacksmith and some use of your forge and I can make you on of the rifles that I described and as for the” Ben waved his hand as if dismissing something superficial and useless. “I’m really not interested in all that other business.” Before John could say any more Ben told him that the settlement smith’s name and said he had all that the smith’s first priority was him now. Without another word Ben walked off towards the half done wall.
“I think you will like this its my latest projects…” “Oh another project, John you gotta get a life man” the voice said jestingly, but he couldn’t see the speaker the room was dark only a silhouette was visible. “Turn on the light I wana see it you know I like all your little projects.” John fumbled with a light switch finally he found it and flipped it on. The room was illuminated every where parts and wires of various types, colors, and sizes littered the floor. He remembered it as his workshop, in the center was a long thick pipe hung on 2 wires suspended from the ceiling. It was not the piping that was truly the centerpiece of the room. The sight of her was like a breath of fresh air, like seeing a ray of sunlight in the depths of a dense forest. Such was his condition that memory was all he required for hope and inspiration, “It’s a launcher.” “You told me about this how does it work?” she looked up at John, this was the first time he had seen her face in memory. John thought it funny, that which had inspired him so and given him so much hope in the face of death and despair he had not even seen the face of. His motivation up to that moment had been a vague aurora of love and beauty, but such a beauty that it brooded in the abyss of his mind and expanded by many fold. But this face was wrong he thought, this was the face of his love only younger then in the first memory. She was only a child in this one; still he could feel a longing paining love in his heart. So I loved her even then?
Flames exploded out of a red piece of steal as the smith pounded it into shape; reality hit John like a brick wall. “Smith?” John shouted over the constant tanging of steal on steal. The tang stopped and a burly, unshaven smith turned to face John “yes? What’s your business with me Sir.?” “Ben has given me your services as a smith for a short time” John handed the smith a letter which Ben had written moments earlier. “Ok so what is it” the smith checked the letter for John’s name “Mr. Renault?” “I need you to make a few small parts for me, do you have any experience in gunsmith?” John asked while shuffling through the schematic drawings he had made the day before. “Yeha I used to make small hand guns in England.” “Ok then you should feel right at home with making small mechanical parts. I need you to make this part here” John turned one of the pages around and handed it to the smith. “With a spring steal, the quantity I wrote in the left corner here” he pointed to the number on the smith’s sheet. “I hope you can read my measurements they are in the English system” “I can figure it out, is that all you need?” John handed him the rest of his drawings there were 12 pages of drawings. “Well we better get started I suppose” The smith sighed at Johns words “So I guess that means you’ll be watching” John nodded his head. The smith took another look at the recoil spring, he turned and with his pair of steel thongs picked a hot rod of iron out of the forge. His hammer fell the first stroke of many, the sparks of creation exploded out of the dull rod as it began to take shape and become much more then a rod it became an invention. In the sparks John lost himself he became un-conscious of self and world.
He saw her stroke his invention in that workshop so long ago “All it needs is your touch.” She felt around the plastic tubing inspecting every joint. “I’m sure it just looks like a lot of pipe glued together to you but it’s really more.” “I know it is John you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He forgot that she usually understood him. It was easy to forget when so many people didn’t. “Its almost like a christening John, or a baptism for you isn’t it. Having me come here and inspect your little projects. Oh don’t worry I don’t mind it, you really do make some of the most interesting things.” Her words were hypnotic to John and he fell under their charm. They soothed his every doubt and shooed away his hopelessness his despair.
“I’ll be done in just a bit sir… John?” The smith’s voice brought him back to the land of the living. “How long do you think it’ll take you for all those parts?” “About 10 hours for the first set.” John shook his head in agreement “Ok that sounds good, but there’s been a change in plans I’m not going to watch you, I have other business to attend to. Listen do you guys have an apothecary in town I need to get some materials only they would be able to provide.” The smith’s face was surprised by John’s question, “Yeha we have one in town but he’s a little bit of a strange fellow. Anyway his shop is set up just down the road.” John agreed with the smith as he entered the apothecary shop, there were a variety of roots and small dead animals hanging over the counter. Behind which assorted jars each with different color content had been placed. The whole hovel was filled with an aroma which John couldn’t identify but smelled a little like pine tree. “Yess how may I help you” a small man seemed to slither out from an adjacent room, speaking with a slur. His snake like featured included, a long thin face with sunken cheeks; then a narrow hook noise. “I am looking for some soap” “Aha you are in luck we have a large ssupply of French ssoap, which wass brought over by ssome merchants.” The man’s slur was beginning to annoy John, as was his slow manner of speech. “Ok then I am going to need 20 pounds of soap and I don’t mind if its that French stuff or not. Put it on Ben Nottingham’s tab.” He said while handing the apothecary Ben’s note “Yess very well” the apothecary said eyeing John suspiciously. “I would jusst like to know… what do you plan on doing with this ssoap, 20 pounds sseems like a lot for one man.” “If you must know I plan on boiling it, but I don’t think you would understand why.” “Sso you are a chemisst eh? I have had friendss who did the ssame ass you caution what you deal with iss very dangerouss.” The little man stopped, “I could help you; have experience in chemisstry I do. No need to worry I already know how to boil the devil out of ssoap sir.” This comment surprised John, and he began thinking that this apothecary may be useful. “What is this devil you speak of?” “Well don’t you know ssir, the boiled contentss of soap are extremely… volatile. Few know of it, for good reasson I musst ssay. It iss written no where.” John was caught off guard by the apothecaries insight on chemicals, gliceren wasn’t supposed to be discovered for another 100 years. “Can you produce this chemical for me? I would need it by tonight…” “Yess for you ssir I would” John was pleased that was one thing he would not have to deal with, he was 2 steps closer to her.
“Ok now John we are willing to strike you a deal if you just tell us WHO did the action in question” John could tell the worn out old man was starting to get weary of questioning him “However if you don’t tell us anything you will take all the blame.” “Sir I still don’t know what you are talking about.” “Listen kid we know it was her, we know who really did it no one here wants to punish you. Your innocent we all know, but if you don’t tell us anything…” “Sir?” John looked at the old man with a face of falsely expressed confusion. “Is she really worth it?” the man looked into John’s eyes he looked deep. For all John’s cunning in the deception of emotion he could not hide what the old man was looking for. He sat back in his large roller arm chair, “Let me ask you if she jumped off a bridge would you really follow. Now I know it sounds cliché and it is but John?” John’s eyes were as cold as steel he reveled nothing. Then he risked one word “absolutely” almost immediately after he chanced that word the man stated John’s folly “No, I think its worse then that son… yes I see it now, you would not just die for her you would live for her. You would see the whole world burn, and its ashes blow away in the wind before you gave her up. No no death would not be good enough for you death would be easy, a relief from that constant emotion.” The man shook his head again “we got a lot of kids at this school who think they love or that they have know love for another but you son you are one of the only ones that truly do. You love her.” His ears seemed to ring with pride and his heart beat like strong and true maybe more true then ever in his life.
That night John looked up at the sky from his bed, she is looking at the same thing only thousands of miles away. So is my torment, the thing I love so close yet so far. Then his mind was silent, what the man said was true I will get to her if I must burn this world I will have her, no force of man or nature will stop me. He looked from his bed over at the table across from him. On it lye a pile of various metal springs and tubing, then next to the table on the round there was a keg, it was filled just to the brink with black powder. Then his eyes fell on a stack of glass vials which reflected the moon light in a spectrum of colors, on the vials he could make out his own hand writing. The label read Nitro-Glycerin.

The Journey
A great crack echoed across the swampland. Another sharp crack was let out this time followed by a soft splat as a small gord was half exploded, John lined up his sight and put a third round into the gord this time it was totally obliterated. Its orange entrails splattered all the pine tree it had been resting on. The crowed that had gathered around him was watching in aw down range at the decimated gord. John looked toward Ben, “watch this” In sequence John emptied the clip into the now orange stained tree. He thought that the peasants might be frightened at the accuracy, speed, and strength of his weapon; but all this was required if John was to get what he wanted out of them. “Is that good enough?” his question was directed at Ben but the whole crowed nodded in agreement. “Listen I can pay you... whatever you want for it” “Yeha well I might want a lot” John replied but without hesitation Ben said it didn’t matter. “Ok then I’m going to need a carpenter, and some supplies.” “Anything, the town carpenter’s name is Newton; his partner is a cartwright. Now what ever you need, he will do for you.” The carpenters shop was a little like the blacksmiths it had an open harbor under which was a work bench and racks of saws, chisels, and other various woodworking tools. Inside the adjacent hovel there were timber stores and the 2 wood workers living quarters. “Hey are you Newton?” John asked one of the wood workers at the workshop “Na boy thats me” said a short angular man exiting the hovel exception of the workshop. “What can I do ya for?” “I need some things constructed. I understand you men do horse drawn carts?” Newton looked at him with a surprised face “Well boy we don’t just do them we specialize in them” “Well that’s good, because what I need is best compared to a cart but I wouldn’t say its very much like one.” He could tell the carpenter was confused “ok this cart its body wouldn’t be square like a normal horse drawn cart its body would be shaped like a boats; only it would have 4 wheels” John stopped to see if Newton was understanding he looked a little mystified but his head was nodding in agreement. “Then it would have two sails mounted on it, you see the whole thing would be driven over the ground by wind power.” “Aha I see, I mean I have never dreamed of such a thing; but I can see it working.” “Yes that is good, that is very good I know now that we are on the same page. I do however have a set of plans for the sail car, so take these and I am in a little of a hurry. Right now I have to go over to quartermaster and arrange some supplies.” “Ok sir it’ll take about two days to finish the cart, your lucky it looks like we already a couple of wheels the size you need.” he said while looking at John’s drawings, then something caught the carpenters eye “your wheel is a size offset from the axle size?” “Ya just trust me on that one, set the axles as stationary; and be sure to seel the cart body it needs to be river worthy.” There was a pause before Newton told him it would take only one day to assemble the craft from pre-existing parts. John left with a warm feeling inside it felt good to have someone understand him. A cool breeze blew through the town from the west, on it was a sweet sent like bacon and pancakes in the morning silly he thought but it was the smell of home. I understand you... its ok her words were carried on a wisp of wind. “Soon I will be with you...”
“Ok sir what can I get for you.” The quartermaster was standing behind a wooden counter Shelves filled with dried meats and kegs of different forign drinks filled the wall which faced his back. “Hey SIR you there” he asked snapping his fingers. “OH ya sorry, um I need like 2 months rations all dried beef and biscuits. The plump quarter master laughed annoyingly, but his laugh soon turned to a cough and he turned to spit on the ground “PLEASE, don’t do that; you couldn’t understand why but just don’t ever do that around another mans food.” The quartermaster squinted his eyes at John then lifted his head from the previous spitting position, then swallowed what he was previously going to spit. A shiver ran up John’s spine. “As I was going to say lots a people would like get their hands on even just a couple of days rations.” “Listen Ben gave-“ ”You.. Are.. Not.. Listening pal there is no food to go around” he said it in a slow threatening tone. John was growing impatient with the quartermaster, “Hey aren’t you that freak, ya the one that says he’s from like year 2000 or something!” He spat out flecks of saliva most of which landed on John’s face. “Fine” John said his face red, burning with rage. This isn’t good he thought, John needed supplies for the journey he estimated it would take at least2 months to reach the sierra mountains. “Devils! The natives they are coming!” a sencery guard shouted running through the streets. John’s head spined around towards the reed swamp. But the swamp was everywhere reeds blocked out his view possible cloaking a native force. They could be totally surrounding the settlement John knew it was true. Ben was running through the town like a mad man barking orders to the guards, “form up men!” he would shout, a drum was sounding off which signaled the peasants into a militia group. In the distance a primitive whistle could be heard it was like the howl of a wolf who is signaling its pack to attack a small confused deer. Reeds all around the settlement exploded in commotion as if a great force had risen out of the water and was now advancing on the fort. The few guards unfortunate enough to be on top of the half constructed wall were almost instantly hit with flint arrows. One was hit in the neck he toppled off the wall clasping his throat, but it was useless streams of dark red blood flowed freely through his fingers diluting the muddy ground with human blood. The barrage of arrows was soon replaced by volleys of savage war yelps, which struck fear into the eyes of the Englishmen. Golden brown natives flooded out of the reed forest, it was as if nature was sending forth its own champions to wage war on the English. Guards held a defensive formation of pike men and riflemen; the line exploded with smoke and fire as the natives emerged from their hiding. Many of them fell but for every native that fell another one emerged to take his place. To John it seemed as if the natives did not bleed he would see them fall from the rifle blasts but he wouldn’t see the blood flow from their bodies as he had seen it flow from the throat of that arrow stricken guard; for him they looked inhuman. All that changed as the natives with their crude clubs reached the pike men, and a mighty mess of blood and human limbs was thrown about as the pike men quite litterly cut the natives into pieces. The success of European arms was about to be taken away for the pike men were too few to cover all the ground not protected by the wall. Soon the natives flooded around the sides of the Europeans like a great sea, before they could be out flanked Ben ordered the retreat back to the edge of the village. There the Englishmen stood their ground, when the two forces clashed everything turned to chaos combat erupted all over the settlement as the formal soldiers were quickly overrun and the natives rushed into the main square. Militia men joined the soldiers in combating the natives. John reached into his leather bag, he pulled out one of his 3 ammo clips; with much haste he loaded the clip into his gun and cocked the firing bolt. Slowly he lowered the rifle lining up his sights, which fell upon a native; but there was hesitation.
“Fight!” a boy yelled as groups of people gathered around John. He and another kid were in-circled by a mob of enthusiastic students. “So what’s it going to be John, don’t be a girl what you gonna do?” the boy pushed him back. John wasn’t angry he had no motivation to fight... “Your such a freak” the boy snickered “wont even fight.” A voice sounded behind him, it was out of place. The voice was soft and caring it had no place in this time of violence he thought “John, just walk away com’on.” The words soothed his growing hate for the boy across from him, and his mind was put in perspective its not worth it, “whatever man” John began to turn. “Puf, thats just like you, ya thats right just listen to her walk away, Ha John you even get pushed around by that lowly girl.” His eye twitched at the words, John’s fists curled up turning into stones waiting to be hurled at the kid’s face. John began to throw a punch he could see his fist flying towards the boy’s jaw.
John flashed back to his rifle sight, the native wasn’t there anymore all that remained was his smoking barrel.

Beyond the River

Fields of tan, grasses high and wild. The wind blew freely wisping John’s hair into his face, a hawk flew over head scanning the horizon. The needle on his compass wiggled around from the vibrations of his cart but pointed generally west. West, where his heart was, his memory, his love. John sailed the sea of grass with his cart, 2 days earlier he had stolen the cart from his carpenter along with 1 week of rations all beef; he knew it wasn’t enough but he couldn’t wait any longer to get to her. Not another day not another hour, he easily got across the Mississippi. John had been traveling night and day for the past two days no sleep, no stop for food or drink. It wasn’t hard to pilot the cart, John had set up a seat from which he could pull the sails back and forth with 2 pieces of rope. Still, large black bags seemed to hang heavily under his eyes. Just keep that arrow pointing west that’s all you got to do he told himself. But John was only human and he began to dose off, in a process of letting his head drop then popping it back up again. He decided to stand up and drive, that way he was less likely to fall asleep.
The road was dark, accept for a set of headlights that illuminated the way. Reflectors on the road way hypnotically wized past his car putting him in a daze. A shrill phone ring went off interrupting his daze, he answered it “John you coming? Please I really need you hurry.” “Ya I am coming just hold on, I’m still like a day away. Just sit tight ok?” there was a pause before she replied “Ok” and hung up the phone.
The memory woke him up, oh yes this isnt the first time I have made this journey, and its not the first time I have done it for her. His mind was more focused, but for how long a day two days... it was only a fleeting thought, he would not allow it to be more. John looked toward the horizon the sun was beginning to tuck behind the sea of grass, its been two days without sleep maybe I should just rest a little bit. He argued out the idea in his head finally deciding that the sails could be tied down while he sleeps for only an hour or two. He kept telling him self for only an hour or two, but as he dozed away he knew it would be longer then an hour or two.

Tribes of the Grass Sea

It had been 2 weeks since he crossed the Mississippi, John had stretched his supplies to the limit he was only eating about 2 sticks of beef a day now. But there would only be several more days before he totally ran out of food. There were animals to hunt on the plains but he hadn’t risked stopping to even sleep so far. Those were not the only problems, he hadn’t seen another person for all that time. Not even a passing tribe of natives that had been heard or seen in the distance. With a sudden ferocity Johns main sail tore wide open, an arrow passed though it; he began to lose speed. Yet it took a few moments before he fully registered the situation, for the past few weeks John had been in a twilight of life; he had only been with thought. No new event, no word of speech, no sweet memory of his past only solitude. He quickly snapped into action, reaching to his left and drawing his rifle; with his other hand he attempted to stop the cart with his wooden break. Before he could the sound of splinting wood shot through the air and stole the very breath from his lungs as the cart lunged over on one side spilling John out onto the plain floor. John was disoriented in the fall, but frantically got a hold of his rifle and came to his feet. Looking down his sight he scanned the perimeter, hunting for a target like a hawk might hunt for its prey from high above. Crouching he walked around to the side of the cart using it as cover he peaked around the edge sighting a leather clad native approaching, he carried a short bow which was knocked and ready to be fired at the natives release. John rubbed his stinging sleep deprived eyes; then jumped out of from the cover of his cart with cat like agility, and put 3 rounds into the natives chest. Three shots echoed across the fields of the mid west, signaling the coming of death and conflict. Far of in the distance John could hear the sounds of the natives their whops and yelps reached him as well as his shots had reached them. The sounds chilled him to the bone, and the air it seemed turned stale and un breathable. Desperately he tried to upturn his cart, but the left wheel was broken at the spokes; the worst has happened. John dropped the cart back on its side, he opened the cargo hold of his cart. All of his equipment had been jumbled around in the fall, but he finally came upon the item he had been looking for. Before departing from the settlement John had taken a couple of extra items that he thought might be useful. From his cargo hold John extracted a half suit of steel plate armor, he had taken the night of his departure. Fearing that his rifle might run out of ammunition before all the natives had been routed or killed he brought a steel cutlass and buckler. More war yelps were let out by distance natives, the are getting closer he worried. John began strapping and buckling on his steel armor which to his surprise was fairly comfortable. Steel plates hung down over his shoulders and legs while one plate protected his chest and back. His gauntlet fingers were too large to fit in the finger hole of his rifle so he left one of the gauntlets behind. 3 clips of ammunition were put into his leather bag, and incase the fighting got closer John strapped on his buckler and cutlass. John had begun suiting up a man now he rose a steel beast, rising his steel helm up slowly he placed it firmly on his skull and with a decisive clang shut the faceplate totally entrapping his body in an exoskeleton of steel. I just need to survive and drive off the natives, then I can come back and repair the cart. He walked off rifle in hand out towards the savage and taunting howls of the natives. About 100 feet out the field dropped off into a small valley, in which was the native camp was; it lied 50 yards from the ridge that John stood on. The camp was large at a glance John saw 80 tepees, and buzzed with activity like a hornets nest that had been poked with a stick. A mob of natives was forming up at the end of the camp facing John they have spotted me he thought. Natives by the bushel began pouring out of the camp running full sprint at John, they were charging him and he knew it. The very ground seemed to quake and shiver under the weight of the native force’s charge, their cry was so fearful and horrid even at that distance that his blood seemed to curdle; the very thought of having to draw his cutlass against such a mighty force turned his whole body cold. For that reason John kneeled and rose his rifle in the direction of the native force. Immediately John went to the days bloody business, his first rounds tore through the native ranks cutting their fiercest warriors down in a cataclysm of blood and cries of pain. Cracking off rounds like an invisible whip they slugged the natives in their chests and faces turning the field of grass into a sea, a river of warm blood. The slaughter did not slow or hinder the savages advance it only hardened their resolve. With such zeal and madness the savages charged him in the face of a wall of hot lead, charging into pure uncompromising, merciless, and apocalyptic death they advanced. 25 yards, the natives began up the slope; John guessed there to be another 30 natives still alive and charging. He reloaded another clip of ammunition, then took aim and began steadily firing into the savage ranks. At this range his shots were more accurate and he was able to make everyone one count. So close were the natives that he could see their faces contort in horror, as they watched their life being stolen away.