Through the Stone Gate

by Keith P. Graham,  © 2006

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"No! Tony!" Jack Yates cried out for the umpteenth time that night. The sound of the shot and the image of the dead man's face flashed in front of him again. Jack pushed his good hand to his forehead and shut his eyes hard. The wounded arm hung limp and there was a slow but steady drip of blood onto the pavement. The job had gone very sour. Tony screwed it up and now he was dead. The diamond dealer was dead, but the man's angry partner was sure to live and he would identify Jack. Tony had told Jack that it would be easy pickings. The Hassidic diamond merchants didn't carry weapons and would give up at the first site of a gun. Tony had been wrong. Two men were dead, Jack's arm was dripping blood, and there was a bullet in his gut, all because Tony had been wrong.

 

New York City is as dark as it ever gets at three in the morning, but there were no shadows on 151st street.  A million light bulbs made the overcast sky a pale gray, like early dawn. Broadway was bright with signs over stores and the lights left on to foil burglars. Illuminated by the windows of apartments where people never slept, Jack Yates moved carefully from parked car to garbage can to darkened stoop, searching for a sign.

 

"Tarot," The sign in a third floor window said. It had a picture of a hand, palm out with a mystical eye in the center.  "Madame Olga" was written in neon letters on the bottom, but the "Ma" was out as well as the last "a" and it read "dame Olg."

 

Jack's cellmate had told him a few years before about the place. "If you ever need to get out of town fast..." Madam Olga had some connections.  "Tell her you're a friend of Jimmy Rivera, she'll fix you up."   Jack didn't know any Jimmy Rivera, but he never forgot the name or the address.

 

Jack pushed the black button next to the scribbled name of Madame Olga on the directory. He heard the buzzer echoing down the quiet halls from the third floor.  A moment later, a sleepy voice said in the tinny speaker, "Whayouwant?"

 

"Jimmy Rivera sent me."  The door buzzed.

 

Madam Olga was younger than Jack expected and, although this was a Spanish neighborhood, she was Russian.

 

"How do you know Jimmy?"  she asked him at the apartment door.  Jack showed her the tattoo on his forearm. "LOSER" it said in crude letters.  It was one of the ugly tattoos that prisoners give each other using a bent paper clip and ink from a ballpoint pen. She let him in.

 

"Sit."   She lit a cigarette, but didn't offer one to Jack.  She inhaled the smoke deeply.  Her hair was a metallic red color with dark roots. She had not removed her makeup before going to bed and it had smeared on her face.  She wore a kimono made of polyester that didn't look at all like silk, held together with a red rope at the waist.  Jack could see some of her black brassier at the open neck.

 

"Are you in trouble?"  Her cigarette had red lipstick on the filter.

 

Jack nodded.  "Can you get me out of here?"  Madam Olga laughed and then spit out a piece of cigarette paper that had stuck to her lip.  A teakettle whistled and then stopped. A moment later, a small thin girl wearing a winter overcoat brought in a tray with a teapot and two cups on it.

 

"Get back to bed, Nina."  The thin girl disappeared.

 

"I need to get out of town, now."  Jack said.

 

Olga threw him a paper towel from the tray.  "You are bleeding."

 

Jack pressed the paper towel against the hole in his arm, trying to hide the pain it caused.  The other bullet hole in his side had stopped hurting, but he felt sick.

 

Madame Olga lit a small stick of incense with the end of her cigarette.  She pushed the end of the stick into a crack in the table.  It smelled like sandalwood. "How much money you got?" she demanded.

 

"I have four hundred dollars."  Madame Olga laughed. "And this ring."  Jack added and removed a ring from his hand.  He handed it to her.  She looked at it.  It was a cheap gold ring in the shape of a coiling snake biting its own tail.

 

"Keep it."  She threw it back to him.  "Four hundred will be enough.  Drink the tea."

 

Jack took the money from his pocket.  He handed it to the woman.  She stuffed it under the strap of the black bra without counting it.  Jack took a sip from the teacup, wondering what was going to happen next.   The tea was foul tasting and he sputtered.

 

"Drink all of it if you want to live."  She said in a voice that Jack could not refuse.  He took a large mouthful and swallowed it.  It felt smooth in the back of his throat in spite of the bitter taste on the tip of his tongue.

 

"Drink!" Jack swallowed another mouthful.  She was staring at him.  "Drink," she said softly and Jack drained the cup.

 

Madame Olga reached over to him and pressed her hands against his cheeks.  She traced a complex design in the air with the tips of her fingers and then touched his eyes, his nose, and his lips.

 

"Listen to me."  The room swayed. Madame Olga had put some kind of drug in the tea. Jack tried to stand, but found he could not move.

 

"Listen carefully.  You have only a few minutes to decide.  If you want to return, you will see the chance.  If you want to return to this world, you must take the chance when it appears.  You must make a transition."

 

The room was getting darker. "If you want to stay, find the black stone, and don't let it go until you have passed. You will know when it is safe to let go."  Madame Olga's voice was coming from a great distance.  "You will only have one chance to decide.  You must take it or be lost forever."

 

It appeared to Madame Olga that a pale light surrounded Jack.  The air around Jack shimmered and she thought that she could see grass and an outcropping of black stone. Jack's eyes rolled up in his head and the real world faded away.  Madame Olga lit another cigarette, waited, and watched.

 

* * *

 

There was a sword in his hand. At his feet was a woman.  There were bruises on her body and a cut on her cheek was bleeding, but her eyes were full of hate as she stared up at him. "Kill me."  She said in defiance.  She was not beaten and was still as dangerous as a wild animal.

 

Jalon removed his hand from the outcrop of black stone as though he had received a shock.  He gripped his sword tighter as the ground seemed to move under his feet.  He lost his balance for a second and he felt as though he would fall, but he took a step and recovered.  The woman closed her eyes tightly and put her head down, misinterpreting his movements.

 

A grudon moved forward reaching for the woman with its black talons.  The red slash of its mouth filled with slaver that flowed over stained fangs.  Another of the beasts moved forward growling.  They both glared hungrily at the fallen woman.  They took sidelong glances at Jalon as they moved towards her, looking for a signal to begin the carnage.

 

"Get back!"  he said to the hideous creatures.  They stopped and looked up at him.  The grudon understood the tone of his voice, but the words were in no language that they'd ever heard.

 

Jalon pressed his hand against his forehead and said "Damn!" in the same strange language.  He felt a ring on his finger and saw that it was a snake biting his own tail.  He then looked at his arm.  Along the forearm in crude letters, it said "LOSER."  In amazement, he found he could read the strange characters and he understood their meaning.

 

The world moved again beneath his feet and he took a step backwards. He looked around trying to get his bearings. He was on a low plain with mountains in the distance. At hand, at an outcrop of black stone, there was a woman surrounded by a dozen awful black dog-like creatures.  They had clawed hands instead of paws.  In the near distance, a great white mare stamped its hooves and screamed in defiance.

 

He looked behind him and as he turned, he saw his own black horse.  He saw the dust of an approaching group of mounted men on the horizon.

 

Turning back to the woman, he saw that she no longer looked at him with hatred, but with wonder.  She stood up straight and tall and the grudon backed off.  She spoke to him and he understood.

 

"Welcome traveler."  She spoke in English, but her words had an odd accent.  "Not many pass through the portals in these latter days."

 

"What the hell?"  was all the Jalon could say.  Too many things were wrong.  The universe had changed too much for him to be able to react.

 

"Throw me my sword!  Quickly!  They are coming."

 

He saw the sword that she was talking about on the ground at his feet.  It was thin, long and made of bright steel with a white jewel on the end of the pommel.  He reached down and picked it up, not knowing what to do.

 

"Give it to me."  She demanded and Jalon tossed it to her without thinking.  The woman caught the sword deftly and expertly placed it in a sheath attached over her shoulder. She put her fingers in her mouth and whistled.  The white mare raced up to her, scattering the grudon in its path.  She leapt onto the horse with ease.  She was dressed in clothes of dark green with a thick brown woolen cape.  She drew the cape away from her sword arm and tucked it into her belt.

 

"We will make our stand here with our backs to the stone."  She said, shaking her long black hair from her eyes.  "Come quickly. I hope that they have swords in the land of your birth and that men are taught to use them."

 

He moved the sword in his hand, as though noticing it for the first time.   He swung the sword through the air and, to his wonder, reflexes and well-practiced muscles took over. The sword moved easily where he wanted it to go.

 

"Traveler," the woman called.  "What is your name?"

 

He started to answer "Jalon," but he stopped.  Another name came to his mind and he answered instead,  "Jack Yates."  Yes, that's who he was, but some part of him was still Jalon, a Captain of the Ursanian Guard.

 

"Well met, Jack Yates, I am Illenna, a daughter of the Lanayean Sisters.  Get ready, for here they come!"

 

At the sound of his name, Jack remembered who he was.  It all came back to him: Madame Olga, the botched robbery, and the strange tea.

 

He stepped towards Illenna.  He wanted to ask her what was happening to him when the five men on black horses galloped up and surrounded them.

 

"Jalon!" one of the men said, drawing his sword.  "You've got her.  The hunt has been on for nearly two weeks, but finally my sword will taste this witch's blood."

 

The words were strange.  It was as though they had a flavor that was new to Jack.  He understood the words, but they were in a language that he had never heard before.

 

"Wait!"   Jack said, demanding time to sort things out.  "I have to know what is going on here."

 

The man on the black horse looked at Jack a moment and then at the black stone. Understanding came into his eyes.

 

"He's a Traveler!"  he yelled and swung his sword towards Jack.  Jack watched helplessly as the sword leapt towards him, but Illenna's bright thin blade of shining steel crashed against it, throwing sparks and knocked the man's blade to the side.  In a reflex motion, Jack's own sword arm came up and stabbed his sword tip forward into the man's gut. Jack quickly moved his hand back drawing out the blade in a well-practiced motion.

 

The remaining men rushed them.  Two stayed on horseback and attacked Illenna.  The other two leapt to the ground.  Urging the grudon to attack, they pressed forward with their swords out.  Jack backed up to the stone and felt the smooth ancient rock under his left hand. When he touched the stone, the world seemed to spin around him.  The men rushed him and a grudon snapped at his sword arm with its wicked jaws.

 

Jack parried their thrusts and managed to scratch a man on the upper arm.  The man switched sword hands and the two attacked Jack again in a coordinated movement that was almost impossible to parry.  While avoiding the leaping grudon, Jack's sword arm moved like lighting.  He whipped off his heavy cape and was able to foul one of the men's swords in its folds.  Rather than attacking the disabled man, Jack pressed his attack on the other one who stepped back.  Swords moved with blurring speed and Jack hacked and parried.  Jack's sword arm seemed to have a life of its own.  He feinted left and moved down and as the man overreacted, Jack came up under his defense and the whole length of his sword passed through the man's chest and out his back.

 

Jack quickly pulled at the sword but as the man fell, the angle of the dead man's falling body gripped the blade and pulled the blade down.  The man behind Jack had disengaged himself from the cape and was raising his own sword for the deathblow when Jack let go of his sword and grabbed the attacking man's arm.  Jack pulled him forward and to the side in a move that he had learned as a child watching Kung Fu movies.  The man kept moving.  Jack pulled a dirk from his waistband and buried the blade deep into the man's back.

 

"Jack!"   He heard Illenna scream.  She had downed one of the riders, but the other had knocked the blade from her hand and grabbed her.  Jack saw blood dripping down her face.  She was trying to fight, but the other rider pulled her across his saddle and was riding off.  As Jack watched, the man struck her hard on the back of her head with the pommel of his sword.  She stopped struggling.

 

Jack looked around him.  He stepped towards the horse nearest to him, but staggered. His vision darkened like a light going out and he fell down against the black rock.  His arm ached and the pain in his side was unbearable.  In the distance, he saw a lighted room.  Madame Olga sat smoking a cigarette looking at a body slumped on the couch. Jack turned his head.  He could see the black horse through the black fog riding off with a pack of grudon loping behind.  He could see the dark green of the Illenna's clothes and the red blood on her pale cheek.

 

"You will only have one chance to decide.  You must take it or be lost forever."  He remembered Madame Olga's voice.

 

Jack looked into the room in the distance.  As he stared at it, it came closer.  He felt he could reach out, grab a hold of it, and draw himself in.  The room came closer and closer. The man in the room stirred and Jack felt the stirring in his own body.

 

Jack looked back.  The dark horse was lost in the dark.  He could just barely hear the distant drum of the hooves.  Illenna was being carried away.  He knew it was to a certain and horrible death.

 

Jack made no conscious decision.  He knew that he couldn't return.  He knew that he had to get on the horse and save Illenna.  He knew, but his body became so weak that he could not even speak her name.

 

Jack felt the black stone under his fingers as he tried to pull himself up.  "If you want to stay, find the black stone, and don't let it go."   Jack gripped the stone hard in both hands and closed his eyes.   He had something to do.  He could not go back, yet.  He could not see the room with Madame Olga and he didn't want to.  He felt the fragile link to his old life break.

 

* * *

 

Madame Olga sucked hard on her cigarette.  She stared at the body of the man on the couch.  There was a light in him that was fading.  She thought that she could hear the sound of distant hooves, but it may have only been the police pounding on the door. Madame Olga let them in.   The tall one went over to the body and felt for a pulse at his neck.

 

"Is this the guy that you're looking for?"  Madame Olga asked.

 

The short cop said,  "He matches the description."

 

"He's dead," the other cop said.  "I'll call the wagon."

 

"There's supposed to be a prison tat on his arm."  A little girl was peering out a room at the men.

 

"Nina, I told you to go back to your room."  Madame Olga said.

 

"I don't see it any tat.  But he's got two bullet holes in him just like the diamond dealer said."

 

"Why did he come here?"  the short cop asked Madame Olga.

 

"He wanted to escape."

 

"With those bullet holes?  He wasn't going to get very far."

 

"Wherever he is now,"  the short cop said, nudging the body with his toe.  "He ain't coming back."

 

"Yes,"   Madame Olga agreed, taking a long drag on her cigarette.  "That would be difficult."

 

  The End

 

Keith P. Graham is an Information Technologies Manager, Blues
Harmonica Player, Website Developer, and editor of the web 'zine
AstoundingTales.com . Recently he decided to write a few short stories.
Keith lives in NY State with his childhood sweetheart, Erica, and five
unpleasant cats.

 

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