At the
End of the Road
by
John Kaniecki
Lamar twisted his foot, slipping in slick mud. He slid for a
moment like he was skidding on ice. He extended his arms, stabilizing his body.
Then in earnest, he resumed his running. His eyes swiftly adjusted to the
darker light. A moment ago, he was running under the brilliant sun in the sands
of Egypt.
Then the runner morphed, and Lamar did too. It was an unprecedented tenth time
this runner had shifted to a new reality. Lamar thought, 'this one has a passion for living.'
To win the game was to make the kill before the end of the
road. Lamar had a perfect record of thirty-seven kills. At the gymnasium, Lamar
had gotten a reputation for the intensity he trained with. Now with his stellar
performances, it was whispered that the elders had consulted the gods about
Lamar. To the young man, such talk filled him with exhilarating hope. Perhaps
he could rise to become a trainer and avoid all this bloodshed. Despite his
skills, the hunter detested taking life. But Lamar subscribed to the policy
better to be the hunter than the hunted.
The tracker looked around, seeing he was immersed in a jungle
environment. There was a small narrow trail consisting of nothing more than wet
mud and leaves. Visibility to either side of the path was limited to a few
yards into the wilderness. Lamar decided to slow down the pace of the pursuit.
It was a priority to know where and when in Earth's domain he was. Survival
depended upon it.
Lamar considered the conversations he shared with his fellow
trackers at the gymnasium. During training, there were times when the
supervisors' observation was lax, and the opportunity to exchange hushed
whispers presented itself. Rather than the official reason that the hunt was
training for warfare, it was considered that the races were somehow
entertainment for the gods.
The runner's mind swirled, trying to determine where he was.
His ears heard a flurry of sounds indicating a host of creatures somewhere out
there in the jungle. It could be Antarctica
during prehistoric times. Lamar shuddered; he dreaded the thought of
encountering a dinosaur. Despite the highest level of training, little could be
done to overcome such a massive obstacle except bow out of the race. Thoughts
of defeat saddened Lamar. The presence of death was real as well. If Lamar was
attacked suddenly by some fierce giant reptile before he could bow out,
disaster might result.
Or he could be in equatorial tropics. This was extremely more
likely. The greater in distance and time the morph transverses, the more energy
was robbed from the runner. Again, Lamar considered his secretive moments
shared with his fellow hunters. It seemed unanimous that the skill level of the
runner gradually increased. The prey would become both wiser and stronger. It
was rumored that the runners, too, went through extensive training to prepare
for the game.
Lamar continued on the jungle path as it began to become an
incline. His mind thought about the ultimate sin, purposefully losing the game.
That is letting the runner reach the end of the road without using maximum effort.
At first, as a young peasant upon Earth, when Lamar was approached to become a
hunter, he was thrilled to attend the gymnasium. Any opportunity to escape the
mundane life of farming or mining was most welcome. He surely lacked the
necessary intelligence to be accepted into the university. But Lamar came to
learn that there was something to offer in all paths.
Lamar quickened his pace as he ascended the hill. Reaching the
summit, he looked ahead through a clearing in the jungle. His eyes saw the massive
stone pyramids. Without a doubt, he was in the realm of the Inca Empire. The
hunter's mind reeled to just moments ago as he had just left the blistering
sands of ancient Egypt.
There too, were massive pyramids. Creations that were created with skills that
mankind did not possess. So grand these towering spires were, surely, they must
be the homes of the gods.
Lamar paused to let the breathtaking scene sink into his brain's
memory. Who were the gods? What do they want? Where did they come from? Why am I running so hard down this path? The
questions reeled upon the hunter's psyche. Down below in the distance, he saw
his pray. Suddenly he was morphed. It was a common trick to morph after
descending a hill as it created space. 'Where am I now?' wondered Lamar. An
intense cold was the first clue. The hunter pressed on, hoping to attain some
satisfying answers at the end of the road.
Check out From Chaos To Cosmos
