TRES - CHAPTER TWELVE - VINCENT

Buglas : Day 498

“Are we any closer?”

It was a day since they left the safety of the goddess Suklang Manayon’s protection. A day since they left Zoriah, trying to hold herself together as she embraced Dong at the pathway in front of the gates that was to send the others back to the jungle and ultimately to Vincent, Beatrice’s uncle who knew the mysterious prophecy that concerned them all. The goddess, in her crocodile form was there; her massive bulk filled the pathway.

It was cold when they left but the humid atmosphere inside the forest was stifling, soon their clothes, provided by the goddess clung to their wet skin and stayed there until they emerged from the thick clump of trees in the afternoon that first day. Bantay ran excited towards the plains as if given freedom for the first time.

They spent the night beside a great raging river, around a fire, eating a filling meal of fowl that the goddess gave them as rations. The clothes proved invaluable. Made of a material that looked like leather, it was tough, light and dried very fast while allowing the air to breathe through the fabric. Nothing exciting happened the first night, only the lone howl from another dog far from them broke through their sleep; they soon went back to slumber after that to wake up refreshed and ready to be nearer the mysterious Vincent.

Now they travelled open fields, wide expanse of flat land covered with a waist-high swaying sea of grass; the sky, as blank as the first day that Anrhu woke up; no clouds except for the sun, relentless in its brightness. In places, they passed by evidence of the devastation that was more evident in the cities; fallen structures overgrown with greenery, uprooted trees fallen to the ground and rotted, road networks cracked and devastated as if giant hands took a hold of one end and pulled the cemented road up like an impossibly long strip of asphalted tape.

“I need to rest,” Anrhu cried out, his voice weak and his legs gave way for him to sit on a large rock, the overgrown path that they follow disappearing in the distance that it was almost impossible to see where they were headed. Once they stopped, they could only see a few feet of the narrow trail, one they had been following for the better part of that day.

“We better stop for rest and some food,” Dong said as he handed over a water bottle to the boy. “It’s is almost noon and a few minutes of rest and sustenance will do us good.”

The others nodded and found their own seats. Everyone was tired and hungry and hot.

They opened the last of their ration and shared bread and dry cheese among themselves. A few strip of dried meat completed lunch, that and their dwindling supply of water. Some bones, saved from an earlier meal were given to the dog.

“We are almost there,” Beatrice spoke, eating sparingly. They have noticed that she had been getting more anxious as the meeting with her uncle draws near. Bulagao was silent, but he gave her a look that everybody knew to be a question. The girl saw and sighed.

“I never saw Vincent when I was growing up. In fact, he was already dead when I was born,” Bea said, answering the silent question that everyone was hesitant to ask. “I thought he was dead, we all did,” she explained further.

“One time, I saw him and he told me about the coming of the earthquake, although at the time I thought it was fire he was talking about. No one believed me, I did not blame them, who would have believed that a dead boy can come back and warn us of something that was about to come.”

“You mean he died and you saw his ghost? Are we going to see a ghost?” Anrhu asked, distress and panic clearly in his voice. “Are we going to talk to a ghost?” his eyes bulged out of his frightened face.

“No, of course not, he was never dead. It’s a little hard to explain but you will know what I mean when we see him.”

Still that did not ease the anxiety that the boy felt.

They were soon ready to go. Hours passed and the monotonous view of the plains and grass bored them and gave them a complacent attitude that left them careless and heedless of the possible dangers that lurked even in daylight. They were almost thankful when they heard and felt the vibrations of heavy footfalls rushing towards them in pursuit and the unearthly cry that warned them of a hunter coming nearer.

In shocked silence they looked back and saw the vile heads of two coming tikbalangs. They ran and prayed for the human settlement where the object of their search was to be nearer.

“Here,” shouted Dong to Anrhu, handling over a jungle knife that the demigod got from one of the many pockets of his pants. “Defend yourself.”

Taking the heavy knife in his right hand, the boy did not know if he had the guts to use it, nevertheless it somehow made him braver to feel the cold steel of the hilt in his hands. He ran with the rest of them.

A strangled cry was hear behind Anrhu, in horror he turned his head and saw the huge claws of one of the equine monsters grab at Bea and lifted her in the air, her feet dangling beneath her. Without thinking, Anrhu held his knife at the tip of the blade and threw it towards the girl’s captor. Like a guided arrow, it hit the center of the beast’s check with a thud.

The tikbalang roared and dropped the stunned girl back on the ground.

The boy gaped as the monster fell to the ground. The other monstrosity stood still beside its fallen comrade. It was only then that the companions saw another figure behind the fallen hunter, a rider, a boy, hidden behind and rode the monster like an upright horse. He stood up suddenly from the back of the dead beast, a bewildered look on his face.

“You killed him,” his voice cracked in disbelief, his eyes struggled find some sort of answer.

Beatrice looked at the boy in surprise, shock registered on her face.

“Vincent?”