Wind in the Hands (25 page)

The Soldier nodded dutifully, his eyes glistened: this time he will fight for the sake of the Truth, no less a person than the Seer being his mate.

Chapter 38. Slap in the face

They were walking on, having lost track of time. The Stranger was hardly dragging himself, giddy with fatigue. He sat down leaning against cool and smooth, as if polished, wall.

“Is there is anything wrong?” the girl asked stroking his shoulder.

“No. I’m just dead beat… But I think we’ve passed all traps and soon leave the mortal shadow for the light of the day.”

He got a flask out of the bag and gave it to the Bird; she sipped and returned the flack back. Having quenched his thirst, the Stranger stood up to go ahead. The rhymes recurred to him:

Walk along the Road of Frustrations

Captured and delighted, once again,

With my mind filled up with expectations,

With my heart anticipating pain.

Such an anxious and uneasy question,

Voice from darkness whispering anew.

You have not completed earthly journey,

Is the road chosen laid for you?

Maybe, it is dark that stares round,

Maybe, it is still that screams with pain,

Where can the lost soul be found?

Just an eyewink - and your hair’s gray.

While the Road of Dreamy Inspirations,

Where wind is furious and fresh,

Leads me in the way of transformations

To the world of broken dreams and crash.

Having covered some miles without meeting with any trap, they bumped up against an iron door. The Stranger flicked the lighter to see a coded lock with twelve buttons. He failed to batter down the door with his shoulder. The key is needed. Now, he has only to enter the code to step out into the fresh air. But how? Hit the combination of twelve digits? Impossible. Appeal for logic? Most likely, the good warrior of desert entered the digit code blindly, at random; and even if the Medium succeeded in raising his ghost from the nether world, he would have nothing to say.

The Stranger closed his eyes, concentrated, some digits, some code combinations, flashed through the mind. He has no right to mistake: there is an explosive device installed actuated by a wrong code entering.

“I don’t know the right digit combination,” the Stranger said.

“Don’t you hear anything?” the Bird asked.

Suddenly, some noise was heard from behind the door, somebody called out:

“You there! How have you managed the tunnel? I told to our brother. You have impressed him a lot. He thinks you to be the prophet.”

“I haven’t opened the door yet!” the Stranger cried out back. “Maybe, you will supply a clue?”

“Maybe. The talk will tell.”

“What do you mean?” the Stranger felt uneasy, a snaky fear probing his heart again.

“I do not know how you were able to escape the traps. However, they were not installed by me, and, maybe, there is no one. If exploded, we would know that for sure, and now… The secret died with the Pyrotechnist. But what if demons help you? I was reported what you were talking about! Do you really believe that our Order is not created by God, and we are mere pretenders, or we’ll agree on the price?”

“I just said that the way your Order chose was not the best one to be used by God; it is your right, though. Let us go out, and we will tell nobody about the tunnel.”

“A woman was together with you. Is she alive?”

“Yes. She is my companion.”

“You may step out, but she must stay in the tunnel. This is a travesty of the prophecy. Blasphemy! She desecrated the sacred prophecy!” the warrior of desert cried out.

The Stranger bit his lip, struck with range, and fisted the wall.

“It is you who are a blasphemer! Because of you and those like you, God is abused. Who gave you a right to state that your interpretation of prophecies is true? Who?” the Stranger raised the voice. “Your money? Your guns? Did the agreement with the government, which recognized your religious rights, make you God’s servants? Did you speak to Him? Did you hear His voice? Do you have His Spirit? No! You are the pretenders! And you will be dissipated except you repent. Then again, you cannot repent!”

The warriors of desert looked at one another in fear and moved back, but the commander of the guard gritted the teeth, drew a knife, and screeched out:

“I will open the door to slash your wrists! Hash key, zero, three, eight, six, star key! I’m waiting for you!”

Wild with anger, the Stranger stretched his finger to enter the code, but, all of a sudden, he could hear a shriek: “No!” The head was is if squeezed with a rim.

“Give me a slap,” the Stranger asked slowly while trying to catch breath. “Do it.”

He had not to reason her twice, for her nerves were stretched thin, and she hit him backhand.

“Slap again!”

She gave him another slap.

“I didn’t know you like it,” the Bird said near enough to tears.

The Stranger burst laughing. Having a good laugh and wiping tears, he explained:

“The slap has beaten my range out, which nearly killed us. Given a wrong code, I was on the verge of getting into a child trap. Never mind, we are alive, which means we have not lost. Let’s wait.”

Chapter 39. The Code

They were slowly going down the cracked stairs leading to the tunnel through the ruins of the ancient watchtower. The Soldier held the limping Seer by the hand and examined the surroundings carefully.

“There’s an observation post up the tower, and there are sun glints on the glass of the optic sight. Dilettantes. However we can’t get to the tunnel inconspicuously.”

“Any ideas?” the Seer asked. However, what ideas can liquidation specialist have?

“We can sneak to the tower from the sunny side. We are lucky that the sun is bright today; they won’t see me, after it as the occasion demands.”

“There is no need to,” the Seer said with some irritation. “I shall try to knock them down for a while. Deep sleep is for good.”

The Seer possessed the ability of controlling men without seeing their eyes. He sat, closed his eyes: a ruined fortress appeared in front of him, he saw the repaired stars, the asphalted roof, the observation post and the two bearded men. One of them sat under the sunshade and pored over a book. The second one walked around the roof perimeter and sometimes looked into binocular. The Seer saw the mobile phones and portable radio set, two automatic rifles, some magazines full of rounds and two closed tin boxes. He looked inside of them in his mind. One box contained small white boxes with large figures ‘5.56’ and small figures ‘32’, there were round grenades in the second one.

The Seer discerned the eyes of the book lover, ordered: “Sleep!” and added more impulsively, “Sleep! Sleep!” as if finishing off the boxer who reeled with knockdown with two punches. The second guarding was a hard nut, he was not easy to hypnotize. Besides, he was busy with watching the objects through the binocular. The Seer decided to use this. He concentrated totally. The Soldier who had seen a lot in his life felt uncomfortable, he felt the desire to close his eyes tight and turn back but the curiosity got the best. The eyes of the Seer became bloodshot, the pupils expanded, he was completely pale, his forehead being covered with small beads of sweat, his hands shivered and he panted as if he had difficulty in breathing.

The Seer sent the guardian the image of the smooth sea. The warrior was amazed; he put the binocular down, peered: there was definitely the sea instead of the mountains and desert. He reached for the water can. “I got him”, the Seer thought contentedly.

“You drink wine, it is heady and intoxicating. You feel good, you feel asleep, you need some rest. You are by the seaside, you are relaxed. Everyone is sleeping now. It’s time to sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep.”

The observer swayed and lied down.

“That’s it,” the Seer said in a tired voice. “They are asleep, but we have no time. Go up the tower, be careful, take aim at the guardians of the tunnel but don’t shoot. Do you understand? Don’t shoot. I’m going to rescue the Stranger. He is here. Don’t let us down.”

The Soldier ran to the tower, near the entrance he slowed down, his heart sank. He looked closer and saw the trip wire. He stepped over it carefully. And felt better. Staying as close to the wall as possible he climbed up to the roof. He saw the sound asleep observers and shook his head admiringly, then collected the weapon and tied their hands behind. He took the automatic rifle, checked it, put the round into the chamber, switched the safety lock into the single-shot position and aimed the weapon at the guardians. He pointed to the different parts of their bodies. And suddenly stopped himself. “It’s like an illness, time to do away with this. I’m over!”

Trying to throw away the thought of pain, the toddling Seer went down the stairs and came in view of guardians. He summed up the situation at a glance: “One is enraged, the others are puzzled. The Stranger’s work, he can do it. I should deal with the nervous one, but first I have to control pain.” The Seer imagined the leg before the injury, fixed the recollection. The pain subdued. He felt inspiration: it was time to show these boys who the Seer was.

He picked up the broken twig, raised his hand and made eye contact with the hysterical captain. The Keeper was astonished: he saw a very tall man with glowing eyes, in light clothes belted with glistening sash, there was electric sparkling sword in his hand.

The captain reeled and fell on his knees. He looked at the heavenly creature with veneration and tears in his eyes, unable to utter a word. Two others heard the command: “lie down in the dust of the ground,” fell down and put dust on heads.

The Soldier looked at the Seer: a small man, with a twig in the stretched hand, at the prone-armed man in front of him and hardly resisted from laughing aloud at this comic picture.

“Open the door!” the Seer ordered to the kneeler.

The captain, still under illusion, reeling as if he was in dream came to the door and pulled the big iron door-handle. It didn’t open.

“There is a code,” the Stranger shouted, he recognized the voice of the Seer.

The Seer glared at the warrior of the desert and realized that he didn’t know the code.

“How are you, Stranger?”

“Fine, thanks. Is the Soldier with you?”

“Yes. He keeps a bead on me,” the Seer waved his hand to Soldier’s side.

“Are you scared?”

“No more than you,” the Seer snapped jollily.

“Will you help me with the code?”

“Can’t the one that helped you to come to the door do this?”

“He will do it through you.”

“I can leave now.”

“I wouldn’t do this. You are kept covered by the Soldier,” the Stranger played up to him.

“Ok. Let’s not waste the time. What lock is there?”

“Ten figures, a star and a hash key,” the Stranger answered. “Wrong dial means explosion. By the way, I am not alone, here is a young girl with me, try not to kill us.

“Don’t worry.” The Seer humped himself. Figures flashed in front of his eyes, some of them thumped in his brain. “Listen!” he shouted suddenly. “Star, zero, one, three, seven, two, one, hash key.”

The Stranger entered the figures without hesitations, having hidden the girl behind his back. The door clanked loudly and got stiff. The Seer grabbed the door-handle, dug his heels into the ground and opened the door. The Stranger stepped out from the darkness blinking in the sunlight. The girl fell down on the ground and burst into tears. She embraced the earth, stroked the grass and cried.

“The prophecy has become true with your help, Stranger,” the Seer said shaking his hand.

“And with yours too. Give the Prince his entrance and the exit to his Messenger. You opened the exit. Congratulations, you are the Messenger,” the Stranger said smiling.

“And you must be the Prince?” the Seer stared at the Stranger trying to read his thoughts.

“As much as you are his Messenger. We played by the rules of the desert warriors, that’s it.”

“Good. I see you are fine.”

The Seer shook his hand again. The Stranger helped girl up and wiped her tears.

“It’s not over yet,” he smiled dully.

The Soldier looked up in the sky and cried. The mobile phones of the desert warriors rang on and on. One of the observers woke up, saw the unfamiliar man with a gun, shook his head as if throwing away the illusion. He jumped up on his feet, but with his hands tied behind, he could not keep the balance and fell down.

The Soldier said in authoritative voice,

“If you jump up again, I will lay you down forever. How soon will your people be here?”

The warrior of the desert kept silent trying to gather wits.

“They’ll be here in a half an hour,” he replied.

“I see. It means we have about fifteen minutes. At most.”

He waved his hand to the Stranger, pointed on the wristwatch and crossed his throat with the finger.

“We have to leave,” the Seer said. “The warriors of the desert will come soon. I’m not able to hinder all of them.”

“Sit on my back, I’ll give a ride,” the Stranger proposed. The Seer started to walk upstairs hanging on the Stranger’s arm and mumbling something.

A small posse hurried to the tunnel.

“Go up to the Soldier,” the Seer told the girl. “Tell him not to shoot. There are not much of them. You both stay there until I call. We will deal with it without shooting.”

The girl looked at the Stranger, he nodded. But when she moved, his heart sank: she should not go there.

“Wait. I’ll go myself. I’ll be right back.

The Soldier saw the Stranger, smiled but suddenly became pale. He rushed downstairs but his instinct ‘never leave an enemy behind’ made him go back. The Soldier jumped and punched the observer with the club.

“Stop, Stranger!” he screamed. “Don’t go!”

The Seer realized what is going on and having summoned the rest of his power gave a sign: “Stop. Trip wire. Entrance.”

The Stranger didn’t hear the Soldier screaming. On his way to the embrasure of the fortress he suddenly stopped, looked down, whispered something and stepped over the trip wire of the mine. The Soldier ran up to him, his face contorted with terror, carefully took the stretched hand, held his friend and whispered,