The Run - Episode 7

We made for the door as quickly as possible, scooping up our belongings as we left the pew. The preacher stopped us short. “Wait”, he said as he spoke softly. “Let’s go out the back” he said as he pointed in a dull fashion towards the back of the church. We walked quietly until we reached the door in the back room. It was late and the clouds gently broke to show the pale moon traversing the night sky. The preacher motioned silently with just a gesture of his head for us to head to his right. We did so whilst we accustomed our eyes to the night and began to survey the countryside for assailants. I looked back toward the front of the church and caught sight of a man heading towards the front of the church. The hour was far too late for most people to be out so we assumed the worst. We slipped into shadow as he drew nearer. I silenced my breathing until he slipped out of view, as we were now blocked by the back side of the church. There grazing in a small fenced area was a young strong horse. The preacher pulled a saddle from the fence and threw it over the horses’ side. The horse was undeterred from eating until the preacher wrestled his mouth away from the ground to slip his bridle on and slide the bit into his mouth. We began to hear banging from inside the church which undoubtedly spoke of our next assailants’ aggravation with his targets fleeing from their supposed destination. Lou and I mounted the horse and pulled up on his reigns. The horse turned back to look at us as he was obviously only accustomed to carrying a single rider. I spoke softly to him and rubbed his nose. Suddenly the back door of the church burst open with a loud bang and wood splinters projected forward and then onto the ground outside. The man jumped down from inside the church which was about one foot off of the ground on its raised foundation. He looked left and then turned his gaze to the right to spot us there on top of the horse. The preacher, who had been holding the horse steady by the reigns as we mounted it, released his grip on the horse and turned towards the man. He shouted out at the man which surprised us greatly. His voice was stern and cut the midnight air like a razor blade. “STOP” he shouted. However, this did not stop the assassins’ forward progress as his eyes affixed on Lou and I. Lou sharply kicked the horse with her heels turned in towards its gut. The horse snorted in disapproval and lurched forward. He burst through the gate and nearly ran over our assailant who, just before being hit, brandished a crude homemade knife and jumped to the side as he sliced wildly. I kicked my left leg out as we were running past him and managed to squarely knock the knife from his grip and out into the tall grass field to the side of the church. The horse pursued his forward progression as Lou and I both turned to watch what the assassin would do and caught sight of the preacher running at him full force and tackling him. I purposed in my mind to turn the horse around to help the preacher when, from my periphery I caught sight of another assassin on a horse riding in full gallop after us. My short glimpse of hope at the thought of our escape immediately retreated as this new threat took precedence in my mind. I leaned forward over the horses’ neck and squeezed tightly with my legs which transitioned our horse from his previous lope into a full gallop. We headed straight for a bridge which spanned a river that glistened in the moonlight. I turned my head back toward Lou and shouted, “Grab the Liberation 11 from my pack and disintegrate this bridge!” Lou followed my instructions and as we passed over the bridge let fly a haze of the Liberation 11 onto the bridge which immediately ate into its structure. The horseman behind us did not know of our plan to rid ourselves of him and continued toward us at full speed. His horse mad a few steps onto the bridge before sensing something wrong and immediately pulling its hind legs under itself as it screeched to a halt. The rider was forcefully ejected forward over the horses head and went directly through a hole created by our chemical cloud and landed in the cold waters below. We felt relieved and terrified at the same time. They had never sent two people after us at the same time before…

The Church - Episode 6

After we had anesthetized our assailant we proceeded to carry him into the forest and laid him there. We knew that if he woke he would proceed to hunt us once more so we stripped him of all of his weapons and gear and removed his shoes. This would make following us much more difficult and could change his mind as to whether his pursuit was worth the effort. We abandoned him and headed back through the woods on our way. After a few hundred yards of reaching our previous walking path we decided to divert ourselves in a different direction. We headed straight west from the rail path. Traversing the brush was difficult for a while but just before nightfall we came upon a clearing and we could see smoke ahead of us. I strained my eyes to distinguish the source of the smoke and observed a small farm only a mile or so ahead of us. Lou and I felt encouraged by the sight and we laid down in the forest to sleep until night was fully upon us. At about nine o’clock I woke up from a dreamless sleep, which was something I seldom had and was extremely grateful for. After only a few months of being hunted I had started to have nightmares. My explanation for such was that it must have been caused by the safeguards my mind had to build to feel secure. I had to hone my mind to look for anything out of the ordinary and had to heighten my senses to always trust that feeling of fear and act upon it. I believe that this caused my mind great agony when it was not being protected by these safeguards and so it would run amok with wild ideas and terrifying images. My latest nightmare that I have mentioned earlier was a horrific dream involving the coaster train and the events that took place there. My dream vividly depicted our assailant there catching me by the leg with his greasy hands and pulling me from the rails at the peak of the ascent and hurtling me towards the ground. I awoke when I hit the ground in the dream. Some of my dreams were not nearly as mild as this one but I prefer not to speak about the evil which they contained. Dreaming in such a manner as to wake me with such fervor was enough to help keep me thin as my heart seemed to always race, burning any energy I could have stored through sleep; thusly I always woke up hungry. Lou and I packed our gear from the forest and headed toward the farm. The moon was not visible this night as the clouds that had showered us earlier that day had not yet vacated this area. We needed little cover as it was devilishly hard to see without a lantern. Our eyes were only mildly adept at seeing in the dark, since that is when we traveled the most. Had we been doing this longer I am sure my eyes may have become better trained for it, but I feel we traversed the darkness better than most. After crossing several fields we came upon a barn just to the northwest of the farmhouse. I eyed the farm to look for security vulnerabilities and an escape route should we find friendly people there. Lou on the other hand turned her gaze elsewhere and began to move around the side of the barn to get a better glimpse. She motioned quietly for me to come to her. I proceeded to move towards the edge to see what she had seen. It was the lights of a small town. We typically found asylum in churches at night and a small steeple cutting through the night air at the edge of the town was a very welcome sight indeed. We headed straight for it, making very little attempt to stay hidden as the church was the one place where we felt any amount of safety. It took us about two hours to reach the church as it was quite a distance from the barn. We reached the door of the church around eleven, and hoped that we would be able to rouse its tenant. We concealed ourselves as much as possible as we tried with as little noise as possible to knock on the door. We received no answer and were beginning to fear our exposure so we tried the door to see if it was locked. To our relief it was unlocked and we let ourselves in, turning only once back toward the street to assure we were not being followed. As we came into the church we let out a faint hello but garnered no reply. We sat down in a pew and rested mostly in mental rather than in physical form. Our bags lay beside us in the aisle and I began to lay my head in my hands when my periphery caught a glimpse of a shadow stretching forward cast by the candles behind us in the foyer. I immediately turned my head to see what was causing the shadow and beheld a sight I was not expecting; a man of the cloth brandishing an old wooden chair above his head with a look on his face of sheer terror. I slowly stood as his actions had abruptly halted because of my reaction. Lou immediately stood up and grabbed my left arm as I began to step toward the aisle. “We will leave if we are not welcome here” I said as I moved. His demeanor changed from the terror he felt in his heart to sympathy as he lowered the chair and muttered, “I couldn’t do it”. I immediately questioned back, “Who put you up to this?” He looked directly at the floor and turned to set the chair back in its rightful location. He spoke as he walked, “They threatened me… and my family. But being a man of God I could not…” His voice broke as he began to softly cry. I walked toward him as Lou’s hands slipped their grip from my arm and I placed my left hand on his right shoulder in comfort. “We can help you and your family escape” I stated. He slowly turned back toward me, “You can’t escape them” he sobbed. “Who” I said? “I can’t say… they’re listening” he said in retort. This statement alone bore the greatest amount of weight and fear in my mind. If someone was listening then that meant they had access to technology that was banned. And if they had access to such technology in churches and knew that was what we frequented, then that meant that churches were no longer safe. It also meant that our nights provisioning locale was soon to be descended upon and we had to move immediately…

The Forest - Episode 5

After abandoning our means of transportation Lou and I began our arduous walk through the dense woods. We followed the rail path cut through the thick of the forest but of course we followed it indirectly staying to the west, just within viewing distance. After walking for several hours we stopped at a river. We dared not chance crossing on the rail bridge in case it had been pre-prepared for our arrival by another assassin even though it was highly unlikely. The rain gradually ceased as we entered the water at the north edge of the river. The water was about three to four feet deep which was easily sustainable for us to cross without hesitation. Being early in April the water was excruciatingly cold. Lou and I had a standard procedure for things and headed many miles downriver so that we could build a fire to dry ourselves, sanitize water, and eat away from passersby on the road we had abandoned. We reached our standard walking distance and burrowed into the forest to make a fire. We sat there about a hundred yards from the river and broke brush and branches to build a fire. I stooped down to the soft forest floor and began to dig with both hands to build a fire pit. While I was digging Lou had collected enough fire wood for a sufficient bonfire and she headed with our cooking pot down to the river. She filled the pot with water and returned to me as I had finished the pit and was beginning to build the brush into a pile to form our fire. After starting the fire with some flint I had, we set some thick logs across it supported just above the fire by rocks on either side. We then placed our water pot on top of the logs to boil for more drinking water which we were desperately low on. As this process completed we both headed to the river. We first bathed in the frigid water and then headed back to the fire to warm back up. It was almost noon now and we were both extremely hungry. I reached into my bag, after warming back up from my bath, and grabbed a stick with fishing string and a hook on it. As I had dug the fire pit I removed the soil into a pile and now began to sift the pile for worms. I found one small one almost immediately and proceeded to head for the river again. Lou portioned our now sanitized water into our water bottles and then headed to the river for more water we could cook with. I threw my line out into the river and looked toward heaven for help. I said a silent prayer asking only for what we needed. I sat patiently waiting and had to run back for more bait a few times before finally landing a fish worthy of eating. I brought it back to the campfire where Lou had been prepping the cooking water. We boiled our corn and filleted the fish and cooked it. We ate until we were full, which was a rare and much appreciated happening for us, and then we wrapped up the leftovers and placed them in our bag. We quickly smothered our fire as it had served the extent of its purposes and now we began heading back up river to reacquaint ourselves with the rail path and head south even further.
Unbeknownst to us our latest adversary was on our trail. He was a local tracker who had, like the others before him, been offered a hefty sum for halting our progress by whatever means necessary. He was a weathered man of middle age. He wore a wide brimmed straw hat and a tattered green jacket which bore many stains and tears from his expeditions. He concealed a thin bow and arrow under his jacket which was the most advanced weapon allowed by the OWG for civilians and it had to be carried under issue of a stringent license. His demeanor was not unlike that of our previous carriage driver as he slumped forward with his shoulders slouched as far forward as possible. He rarely raised his head and even more rarely spoke. When he did it was in soft muffled tones and with a thick accent. He tracked us from the coaster train tracks to the rails which led us into the forest. Fortunately for Lou and me, he was more accustomed to tracking animals than people and did not notice the point at which Lou and I had exited the cart. He continued on over the rail bridge and down the tracks expecting to catch us in the back of the cart. As Lou and I pushed through the underbrush just within sight of the rail path, we looked back and noticed him as he had just crossed the bridge over the river. Our timing in seeing him was advantageous as the sound from the river stifled his ability to hear our movements within the forest. I spotted a thin clearing in the brush which would give me a clear shot at the road. We hunched down and hid as close to the forest floor as possible. Still naïve of the fact that we were no longer in the cart he proceeded forward heading down the rail path. As he passed by us I began moving towards him, carefully choosing each step to insure I could not be heard over the white noise of the river behind us. I slipped in directly behind him on the road and pulled a knife from my pocket which I had made out of an old metal scrap I had found. I had never killed before and didn’t intend to today, but I had to arm myself just in case those measures were called for. I followed in his steps for a few feet until he broke step and caught the sound of my footsteps in the leaves behind him. As he reached into his coat and began to turn I made my move and grabbed him around the neck and placed my knife against his throat. My voice stuttered as my adrenaline rushed through me, “Drop your weapons” I said. He slowly pulled his weapon from his jacket and released it to the forest floor. While the allure of his payment was enticing, he fortunately valued his life above all. I repeated, “Drop ALL of your weapons”. He lifted his right foot and removed his knife which he used for hunting and dropped it as well. There was only one thing I could do to him. Lou rushed up with my pack and reached in and grabbed one of my homemade sleeping pills. I made them from the herb valerian which I had found in our travels and some other herbs which helped to speed its effects. I motioned to our opponent to swallow the pill. He resisted without saying a single word, but I persuaded him through conversation that this was the easier of the two ways for us to part company. He swallowed the pill and Lou and I waited until we could verify its effects had worked properly.

A Bid Farewell - Episode 4

It was growing even darker now as we inched closer to midnight. The only consistent light we had was from the sparks emitted from the friction of the contraption I had made to get us down from the tracks scraping against the rails. We finally met the base of the decline, but thanks to our momentum didn't stop for a few hundred feet after reaching it. Our light disappeared as soon as we stopped, but up in the distance we could see an oil lamp burning against the night. How I respected the lamp-lighters, every evening spanning miles of road just to light our archaic road system. I turned to Oliver who now smiled as he rubbed his head and neck, a feeling that I am sure was all too foreign to him. I reached in my bag and grabbed a metal cup and my water and poured him a drink. He widened his smile as he placed the cold metal against his lip and began to raise the cup. After sipping for a moment he handed the cup back to me. He blasted words from his lips as he was used to from having to speak loud enough to be heard through the lid, "How can I ever repay you..." I stopped him short, again placing my finger to my lips as I heard something from behind us. I whispered, "There is no need to repay us, seeing you out of that helmet and alive is reward enough." We spoke to Oliver at length in a hushed tone. He explained to us how they had questioned him and wrote down everything he said in the concentration camp. He spoke of the interest that General Gutenwhilder had taken in him. He said that General Gutenwhilder had been an orphan also and had empathy for him because of his history. He spoke as if that empathy was the only thing that kept General Gutenwhilder from killing him. He told us of others that he knew were being held there, though he said he couldn't see how many people could survive the madness and disease caused by their encasing within those horrid helmets. He detailed how they had escaped after Hitler was assassinated by a bomb dropped by a secret US/British joint operation bombing run. Our world was forever altered on that day when the people of the world decided to implement a one world government or OWG. The OWG decided that technological advancements were a means for evil to propagate itself throughout the world. Therefore, they banned all new technology and most old technology as well, sending it all into smelters to be melted down and dismantled. Essentially they sent the world into a dark age. However, after those first few years of resistance and protest many began to adhere to their rules. The military of the OWG was enormous and carried the most technologically advanced weapons allowed; a single shot black powder rifle. People fashioned their own weapons for a while, but the agents of the OWG were so densely interweaved into society that they caught everyone who attempted to disobey. I paused again to listen to the sound I had heard behind me as the commuters and Oliver began to disperse, many of them heading toward the street lamp to await a passerby. I motioned to Lou as it was best for us to travel by night and we headed toward the sound. I began to familiarize the sound in my mind to horse hooves on the poorly paved road running opposite of the road with the street lamp. I motioned for Lou to pick up the pace and after running for a moment we came upon it. It was a horse-drawn cart, with a man sitting atop it looking neither alive nor dead. He simply sat lifeless; only swayed by the motion of the cart. The cart rode on the rails embedded in the old street so the driver had very little need for correction and was probably asleep. The cart was pulling full length stalks of corn, piled so high that when the cart made its turn to the south we could no longer see the driver or horse. I motioned again to Lou and we ran and jumped into the back of the cart and buried ourselves in the corn. It was now time for us to rest as well. I pulled two ears of the corn off and we washed them with some of my water before we ate them and then proceeded to shut our eyes for some much needed sleep. It had been a long night, though the action had only lasted a few hours.


I awoke with a start as my nightmare came to a ghoulish conclusion of which I prefer not to discuss. Lou was still asleep despite the fact that it was now morning and the carriage was likely close to its destination. The sky was still filled with clouds and had just begun to rain as I became more familiar with our surroundings. We were passing through a dense wood, the only sign of civilization being the rails that the cart still rode upon. Out of morbid curiosity I decided to see if our driver really was alive. From behind he still looked dead as he stayed slumped over the reins. I reached up only stifled by my fear of what I thought could be the cause of his demeanor. When I overcame my fear I grabbed his left shoulder with my right hand and pulled him around toward me. I was shocked and a little relieved to find that the driver was made entirely of straw and potato sacks. He was, of course, a scarecrow. No doubt this again sparked within me a desire to abandon our mode of transit and seek other means of arriving at our next destination. I woke Lou and we abandoned the cart taking a few ears of corn with us to tide us over until we found more food or some semblance of civilization.

The Descent - Episode 3

We reached the crest of the ascent around 11pm. The moon still shone brightly in the sky but was now beginning to become veiled in a thin layer of cirrus clouds high in the stratosphere. As I caught my breath Lou surveyed the track behind us. All at once I paused to notice her expression. She was glaring at the track, squinting to see something below. It was apparent by her expression when her brain defined the image that her eyes had captured. My heart sank as I watch her begin to tremble in fear. Neither one of us being especially heroic or brave I turned to see what it was she had caught sight of. I too had to strain to see with the waning moonlight offering little assistance to my eyes. I had a hard time resolving the image in my mind just as Lou had and then it hit me and I too felt rushed with fear. The Grease Bum had surveyed the wreckage and found it to be devoid of carcasses meaning only one thing; we had escaped. Having already reported his success to his employer it was now paramount for him to finish the job before they arrived to inspect his handy-work. My mind searched for ideas as my eyes searched for exits. I reached for my bag and grabbed one of my vials of Liberation 11. I pulled off its specially made cork top and fanned the vial downward towards the ascending tracks. The concoction turned to mist as the wind caught it and it settled slowly down onto the tracks - instantly vaporizing their steel and wood construction. Thanks to the manner in which it had dispersed it removed a section of track large enough that the Grease Bum would not be able to jump its span. The mist continued earthward and tore through the chain mechanisms below. The Grease Bum stopped fast and, realizing that both his mission and his livelihood had been ruined, shook a greasy fist at us before retreating as swiftly as he could to escape his employers' wrath. I turned back toward the passengers who all now looked at me with anticipation. I asked to see their belongings so I could devise a method for us to descend the track ahead. I found several large umbrellas and many old suitcases from the commuters. I lashed the umbrellas together using six of them to make a structure to support the suitcases atop them and two of the umbrellas, which I thought to be the sturdiest, to run horizontally across the structure to hold it to the rails with the umbrella handles. I motioned for Oliver to come to me and he did. I reached for my tools and Liberation 11 vial from my pack and Lou assisted me as we began the process. We formed a channel of foil atop the helmet on both sides of the hinge. We then had to line the foil with a special lubricant I had made to keep the L11 from eating the foil. Then I spread a small layer of L11 on the hinge; just enough that it would fizzle out after consuming solely the hinge. The L11 worked its magic and the helmet burst free. I pulled its two halves apart and it cracked from the strain and final broke into two pieces. This whole process, due to the care I took in administering it took us at least 25 minutes. I paused to catch my breath as my nerves had usurped all of my emotional and physical energy at this point. The other passengers watch the event in amazement, none of them understanding why I would have tools for such a task. Then after Oliver smiled slowly, the passengers let out a faint and measured sigh of approval. We then boarded my makeshift rail car and began our descent, slowing ourselves with an extra umbrella I pressed against the side of the rails.

Rotten Rails - Episode 2

... Grease Bum's are so common-place that they go virtually unnoticed by most everyone that rides these coaster trains. However, due to our mission, my wife Lou and I were especially adept at noticing that which was out of the ordinary. The Grease Bum scrambled up the wooden structure of the incline well ahead of our slowly ascending train. His movements were more like that of some kind of animal than a man, a fact which I attribute to his adaptation to his surroundings underneath the dark and dank girders of the coaster train. His hands were gross and black from slathering the chains with the grease he had found, and he reached for something in a black bag he had strapped around his waist. My eyes were transfixed on him as my wife surveyed around us for an exit route. He pulled out a rusty old railroad spike and raised it above his head swiftly before plunging it into the chain that was hoisting our train up the incline. Immediately the entire works failed and the trained jerked to a stop. Beneath the girders the old chain motor, sputtered and shook. It began to build up pressure and released slack on the chain as per its failsafe. Everyone aboard gasped as the train violently dropped backward down the hill, even though it only lasted a few seconds. The Grease Bum realized the error in his plan and climbed inverted down towards the chain motor. His plan now would be to release us backwards toward the next train coming up the coaster track. Lou motioned to me and I realized that in my horror watching this unfold I had frozen myself into inaction. I was merely watching this play out without making a single effort to prevent it. Lou grabbed me by the shirt and we climbed forward advancing up the train, but of course before we did, we motioned to those on the train with us including Oliver that this was our only method of survival. Lou had a knack for making sure I stayed alive, and of course this made her a crucial part of our team. All of the passengers ran toward the front and climbed from the vehicle and on to the tracks. Oliver was last and as I pulled him from the front of the train the Grease Bum completed his quest and released the fail-safe handle on the chain motor. The chain broke loose with violent fervor and the train careened violently backwards and broke apart before reaching the bottom of the incline. The Grease Bum watched from underneath and seemed satisfied with his handiwork. I knew, however, that when he went to scour the wreckage for salvage he would realize the extent of his failure. I motioned to the people on the tracks to remain quiet by gently placing my finger to my lips. Everyone understood and we began to climb up the ascent beneath the cold moonlight. The Grease Bum was out of sight now, no doubt reporting his success to whoever had organized the assassination.It turns out that long ago when many great literary works were published; their authors had used people like Oliver for inspiration. However, when the Nazi’s began their book burnings and attacks on history and society, they had found out about this fact. One Nazi general began to collect these people into a secret concentration camp, his name was General Gutenwhilder. There General Gutenwhilder and his goons recorded the knowledge of these individuals and then they shut them away sealing them in these clear helmets. The helmets appeared to be like glass, but it was much harder than glass. They were square and had holes on the top where air could come in. Generally there was enough room at the bottom of the helmet, around the neck, that the wearer could stuff some food inside to keep themselves alive. Liquids were another problem and had to be dripped down through the holes in the top. Many who were encased in these died from all sorts of diseases and rot. It was an exceptionally painful and horrific way to die. It caused madness in some and in others suicide was the only retreat. Most died in the camps, but some escaped and still others were released when Hitler fell. General Gutenwhilder was lost somewhere in the chaos and has whereabouts are unknown. Not until Lou and I had come along had there been any hope for these individuals. Quite by accident one day I had been mixing some things together in my garage when two of the chemicals I had combined began to react. The reaction ate a hole in the floor of my garage and turned out to be the only thing that could eat through these devilish helmets. When I found the substance I had recently read in a local newspaper about someone finding one of these individuals and how everything they tried to remove the helmet had failed. I professed my intentions to find a way to apply my concoction to the helmets to free the wearer and Lou was right behind me all the way. We discovered in only a few days, a way to funnel the chemical, that I now called liberation 11, on to the hinge of the helmet without affecting the wearer. It was an elaborate process, but by the time I am writing this to you I have used it at least 5 times without a single incident thus far. There was one slight problem though, after it was made public that I had freed the first captive, I returned home to find nothing but charred remains where my home once stood. The bounty had been placed on me and Lou and we had to keep moving. We decided to continue releasing those who were encased, or as we now call them, the Truths. However, despite their release, it had made no major impact on the literary world. It seems that these Truths had little to do with the validity of major literary works but had held some sinister significance to someone else, and that is why we were being hunted...

A New Direction - Episode 1

For the New Year I have decided to impart to you a story of a different nature. VooDoo Duck may have been an amusing tale, but it was sophomoric and unintelligible. I plan on detailing something new and more characteristic of my level of intelligence (or at least what I retain it to be). I will tell you a story that has never been told in my realm of knowledge. If it has been told and I am unaware of it, then please make me aware so I may give that author his dues. As far as I know, however, the story I am about to begin has come from a dark region in my mind that only made itself known during an afternoon nap I took today. The story has intrigued me so much that I must tell it, bizarre as it may be. And so, it begins...We ran into him today... Same as the others his head was encased in some kind of clear helmet. He was able to see through it though the material it was made of had faded to a shade of amber. We were on the rollercoaster express when we found him. He sat quite stiff and immobile in his chair though I knew his body likely functioned just fine, but with his head and consciousness encased like that I am sure he felt that much more the prisoner. The train lurched to a start. Its cars made of simple wooden seats on small wheeled chassis. The train followed the rails for a short time before they began their descent at Tar River. It was about 10pm and fortunately for us the moon was high in the sky and full; illuminating all that we needed to see. The rails before us disappeared as we met the wooden drop of the train track. I slipped down in my seat as coaster trains have never been my favorite mode of transport and the train gained momentum. Screeching through the night we met the base of the descent and ascended before we began a right hand banked turn to cross the street at Elm place. I turned to speak to him as the train continued on its stomach churning course. My voice was stifled by two things, one - my innate hatred of coaster trains, and two - my fear of what would happen when I ventured in earnest to free him from his bondage. Lou grabbed my arm as she knew the fear that gripped me at this point, and even though she shared it, she knew it was right to encourage me in our quest. My voice started, "Sir, what is your story?". His aged voice crackled at the start and his eyes never left their desolate stare into nothingness. He detailed how he had been an orphan boy who had merely stated that he wanted some more soup. He had told the story to someone in the past and had been locked into this head gear for it. I told him that I believed him and would do everything I could to help. Like all of the others before him, this man Oliver, had been the subject of a great literary work that was to be taken as fiction, when in fact it was his true life story. For knowing that his story was true he, like all the others, was encased in this head gear in hopes that he would die before anyone took his story for the truth. I knew right away that it was him because we had been looking for him and had heard that he was in this region, so it was of no slight of circumstance that we had crossed paths with him tonight. The coaster train reached a slow point in the track before it began being pulled skyward, my least favorite part of all. The old chains that ran these train lines through their hills and valleys were old, but well greased by the men who lived beneath them. Their existence there created a symbiotic relationship necessary to our modes of rapid transit. These grease bums would save up the grease from wherever they could recover it and could, in exchange for using it to keep the trains running, live underneath it and prosper from the items dropped by those on the coaster trains. However, to my dismay, the grease bum for this section of the track had been tipped off by a spy, and was working towards our demise...