Tree of Life

Can't Fight the Past

Ebru exhaled and rested her head on James’ shoulder. “That’s all I can remember.”

James reflected quietly before asking the only question he couldn’t erase from his mind. “Do you think any of it’s true?”

“Before tonight, no.”

“And now?”

“What do you think?” Ebru bounced it back to him.

The skeletons of James’ past rattled too loudly for him to contain them. “I’ve never told anyone about Reims.”

Ebru waited patiently for him to continue.

“My platoon had been assigned mop up for several industrial blocks of the city. The warehouse didn’t feel right from the start. It had been staged—done up to look abandoned, but the garbage was fresh. No vermin. No decay.

“Erwin tripped the wire. He died fast.” James quaked with the memories. “The krauts were still evacuating the building—something real precious. It must have been taking too long. There was a firefight. Then a chemical explosion.”

“I got knocked unconscious and woke up under a heap of mangled lab equipment wearing glass shards like porcupine quills and missing part of my face. Half my platoon died in the fire.” The nightmare overwhelmed him, until Ebru squeezed his arm, bringing him back into the present.

“Finally, I couldn’t stand their screams. I don’t know what happened next. I went nuts. I stormed the nearest kraut and hit him with something. I don’t remember what. I took his gun and killed the rest. On the way out, the building collapsed. A steel I-beam pinned me to the ground.

“I’ve always known I should’ve died that day.” James lifted Ebru’s head from his shoulder. He stared into the darkness that masked his deformity and imagined her eyes staring back at him.

“Here I am. Here you are. I fought against the Germans less than two years after they killed your parents. What if the story is true? What if your people were defending immortality itself, and the Germans took it? But then, during the war, they lost it in a warehouse in Reims?”

Ebru didn’t respond.

James caught an alien scent on a light breeze—like sulfur and curdled milk. He pulled Ebru to himself protectively and held a finger to her lips. They sat in silence while the odor intensified.

“Don’t stop on my behalf.” Westerly wheezed the words as if a bellows were artificially operating his lungs. “The story was just getting good.”

Ebru spoke softly but firmly. “Menk’ payk’arel dem ch’e mis u aryun, bayts’ dem prints’ipalities dem liazorut’yunneri dem Rretinner mt’ut’yan ays ashkharhi.”

“Quoting scripture does not impress me, although it will be nice to finally consume someone who understands their fate before meeting with it.”

“Ebru beat you before.” James stood and shielded Ebru with his body.

“I’ve had more time to acclimatize with my host. He won’t be scurrying off again.”

“No more talk.” James plunged fist-first into the darkness. His knuckles connected satisfyingly with flesh and bone. Fueled by his own demons, he rode Westerly’s frail frame to the stone floor and drove both fists into his face.

The indwelling entity attempted to speak. Fury-driven, James clenched Westerly’s throat and squeezed.

“Stop! James, you’re killing him!” Ebru cried.

James only heard the command to kill. From deep within his soul a voice egged him onward. Yes. Kill him, and you kill them all. James blindly obeyed until nothing but Ebru’s gentle whimpering filled the tunnel. Westerly’s body had gone cold and limp.

Now kill the girl. James jumped up, pressing his hands to his ears and screaming in attempt to drown the inner voice. Kill the girl! It echoed louder. James’ fists shook until his nails bit into his palms causing them to bleed. I’ll destroy you both.

James lurched sideways and slammed into the rough-hewn side of the tunnel. His temple split, spilling blood onto his neck and collar. “Not if I take you with me,” he growled.

James abandoned his effort to escape the evil. Instead, he bent his will toward controlling it. Temporarily, his muscles became his own. With no other plan than to spare Ebru, he careened recklessly through the narrow tunnels at full tilt.