Episode 11

The trio looked on as the leaking corpse of the elderly man began to sink into the white abyss below them.  It was almost like that the earth that rested so deeply below had reclaimed his entire being. The look in Cyrus’ eye was one of confusion, and that struck John as a little bit more than odd.

“You’ve never seen that before?” John asked the Cyclops before turning his attention to Jennifer for a brief moment. Cyrus shook his head no and walked over to the spot where the man lay dead. The bright red blood stain was the only thing that served as a reminder of the murder, and even that was being buried by the heavy snowfall.  Visibility was beginning to become more of a factor than John would have liked, and Jennifer approached with him a potential plan.

“I know I’m still getting used to these wings, but I think I can keep us warm for the night whenever we decide to set up camp.”

John looked back at her bewildered.

“We’re not setting up camp anywhere. We’re going to do this and be done with it,” he said back to her. She picked up on the urgency he had displayed in his voice, and knew that he truly believed that whatever lay ahead of them could and would be faced head on. “I don’t know if this is my destiny,” he stopped himself and corrected his words after seeing just how cold his two counterparts were, “our destiny, but we’re going to do this.”

He wasn’t even sure what he meant by this, but he knew that he meant it. Cyrus ventured over and lifted John up on his shoulder, carrying him like a sack of potatoes. John wasn’t too fond of this approach and cussed and attempted to fight his way off before realizing that resistance truly was futile. Cyrus jokingly said those three words to him, “resistance is futile,” as he tossed him off his right shoulder just as easily as he’d picked him up. John began to wipe the snow from his jacket and pants as he rose to his feet, charging Cyrus.

Cyrus dodged his advances, showing off swift moves that could be attributed to a matador.

“You haven’t learned yet, your tail is your best friend. You could have easily broken my hold on you if you’d have just used the damn thing.”

Jennifer finally caught up to the two of them and tried to intervene before things escalated any further.

“You guys need to get along! You don’t have to be friends but we need to work together. They told us the importance of that at the faciiity!”

“Fuck the facility,” John retorted. “They said a lot of things at the facility, it doesn’t mean they’re true.”

Jennifer looked on, carefully crafting her next words very carefully.

“John, listen to me. The things we seen, the things we all went through… there’s something to what they’re saying to us. Why is it so hard for you to believe?”

“I think the better question is what makes it so easy for you to believe?”

Jennifer clenched her first and hung them at her sides, stomping her feet into the snow. Her anger gave way to a side of her that he, or even she for that matter, had never seen. Her wings spread to their full extent and her eyes turned a dark shade of red. They resembled the fires of hell, or maybe a glass of red wine straight from Italy. He would prefer the wine analogy than imagining the fires of hell.

Cyrus stood back and seemed as if he knew what was going to happen next. The ground shook and they could hear the rumbling of trees in the distance, and a familiar voice rang out ahead of them. It was the British man who had recently been shot and killed by Cyrus mere moments ago. He was wearing the very same red jumpsuit outside the very same shack.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” said Cyrus, which caused Jennifer and John both to look at him with a sly smirk on their faces.

John took the lead and again advanced towards the man with his hands in the air, letting it be known that he meant no harm whatsoever.

“Stop right there, son,” said the British man.

“I’m from the facility. I was given a map to get here.” John dropped one of his hands and started to fish in his pocket for the map.

“Hands up, lad!” the old man shouted as he raised and cocked the rifle. It was now pointed at John’s chest.

John could hear Cyrus approaching in the distance. He held his arms back to motion to Cyrus to prevent reliving the same outcome all over again.

“Stop! Cyrus, stop! We’re not supposed to kill him!”