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.”