No response, zero. This business of day to day, getting to know you small talk was going to be harder than I thought. "I once knew a woman called Stephanie Dogface," I rambled. "Swear to God. She didn't have an actual dog for a face, but she was pretty ug-"
Kat tugged on his reins and shushed me suddenly. His index finger pressed over his lips and his nostrils sniffed great whiffs of suspicion. Did Kat not care for my talking, or did the man of experience smell, see, or hear something I could not?
The horses were far from disturbed, sedately snorting and kicking up leaves with their shoes. After too long of this, I decided Kat was being overly cautious, and prepared to break our silence when something toe-curling did it for me, a distant, indiscriminate screech. "I hear it, Kat…"
He shushed me once more as the moan increased. Inhuman, it was approaching overhead, beyond our shelter of clung together branches. We strained our eyes through the cracks for a glimpse, when all of a sudden, the scream exploded down on us, rattling the tangled roof to bombard our faces with debris. Immediately, my horse reared, and I snatched at the reins to stay in the saddle. With a jerk, Kat also remained upright; his horse was circling a spot and he was kicking his heels in its hind to calm it.
My ears were ringing as the chaos subsided. However, the peace was temporary, and when that ferocious sound and wind struck again, we both clung to our deranged animals and struggled for control. This thing was a bird, a large bird, and Kat, ever alert, already had his katana drawn. "Up there!" he roared. “Through those—”
Our embracing roof shield unclasped in one single, snapping motion. Previously dead trees sprang into life, the branches like flailing arms in fire, causing a frenzied downpour of earth and leaves and wood. The stark purple skylight was disorientating, so it was Kat who first caught sight of the bird monster, spooking trees, animals, and men.
Growing in the dusk sky was the condor. Its wings cast an astonishing shadow of night some thirty feet across; brown plumage covered its chest and creased tart skin folded over its neck and head. The predator, spotting us, opened its gaping beak and screeched.
I covered my ears, cleared my eyes, peered upward, and saw the bird’s opening talons closing in on my head. Seconds before my skull was caught in those claws, Kat booted me off my horse. The condor missed its man but sunk its nails deep into my horse. The poor animal let out a chilling cry when it was snagged and carried skyward.
I scurried on all fours like a beast now, wind, kick, and fall knocking me senseless. Kat, meanwhile, dismounted his horse and set his legs like roots in front of me. "Get low!" he moaned. "Lower!"
I flattened my face fully into the muck and lay like the dead. I could hear Kat’s bullish snarl as the condor abandoned my expired horse over far-off treetops.
"What does it want?” I yelled, terrified. “What does it want with us?!"
"Flesh!" Kat exclaimed, twirling his swords. “Keep your mouth shut!”
The bird tipped its wings to one side, directing its beak toward space and then soared for it. In a feathery blur of speed, it climbed until a silhouette against advancing twilight.
"Is it gone?" I asked, my heart pumping painfully against my ribs. "Tell me it's gone!"
Groaning, Kat gave me a thump in the head with the hilt of his katana.
"Shush!"
Cursing, I rubbed my scalp as the condor started its descent. Falling like a missile, it would strike down on us in less than five seconds.
Four.
The incoming monster wings whistled like dropping bombs during the blitz.
Three.
"We’re dead!" I cried, shutting my eyes tight.
Two.
Preparing to eat, it stretched out those killing talons, opened its yellow beak, and screeched, starving.
One.
Steadfast, the samurai bent his knees and lowered his head. Then, with ferocious force, he kicked himself upward and ravaged the air with his steel.
Zero.
Both bird and man collided. I heard the thudding, ugly break of bone and bodies, and then I opened my eyes to see the feathers trickling down like winter snow.
Unfortunately, the condor wasn't dead, but wounded, unsatisfied, and pissed off. It tucked its wings back and prepared for another dive. With fear surging through me, and with no sign of Kat, I lurched to my feet and started a jog down the path. It squawked and I stumbled, picking myself up only to trip over my own feet. "Christ!"
I ran, my fists clenched, teeth grinding, and lungs wheezing polluted air in and out. An excruciating cry burst at my ears, causing blood to run down my lobes. It was close now, so close.
Turning my head back, I saw its grips ready to spear my spine. I clenched tight, hoping to preemptively shut out the pain. Instead, and quite inexplicably, the condor exploded into a thousand feathers, throwing me forward through the air and firmly onto my face. Somehow, it was over.
I rose minutes later, nothing broken, but covered head to foot in thick plumage. Staggering, I searched for the lost samurai. "Kat?…Kat?!" The sky was clear of birds, thank God, and the night was with us. "Samurai?"
At last, I spotted Kat slunk against trunks like a beaten old car tire. His eyes opened when I arrived, exhaling with selfish relief over him. He had taken one hell of a knock but was alive, and I would not be left alone here. When his pupils sharpened, he appeared stunned, but not by the bash he just received. He was the samurai, after all, the protector, the legend, and yet here he was, drooped against a trunk with the feathered novice offering him assistance.
"Close call, eh?" I said, shaking. "What the fuck was that thing?"
Kat sprang up without any help and before he was ready. "An illusion," he said, concealing both his pain and embarrassment. "Someone is playing with us…”
***
We spent a surprisingly comfortable night in the woods. I was dead to that world the minute my eyes shut, dreaming over the Earth I had lost. Kat, meanwhile, set his back against a trunk, his eyes never leaving me.
We proceeded at first light, sharing the last and very nervous horse. Kat took the reins and I crammed in behind. We hadn't exchanged words since the condor incident, and by now, I had given up any plan to uncover the pieces of his past. The only important piece was for us to remain one, and to get out of these malignant woods as quickly as possible.
Our horse occasionally would trot over lumpy mounds of moss, and the old Kat would grumble in pain. It must have been a long time since he had asked his body for such a sustained level of physical and mental strength, and on this particular mission, he would need all he ever had.
Dampness lingered over early afternoon, and the path seemed never-ending. It would lead to a left turn, direct us to a right, and then another straight through the same stagnant sights. At times I would drift off, forehead bobbling between Kat’s shoulder blades, my mind in a pleasant place. All the nonsense about angel and samurai, woods and monsters might be forgotten in the stupor.
It didn't last. My weariness was wiped clear when Kat pulled up the horse. I gripped my fingers into his sides, expecting another condor attack or worse, but scrutinizing the coiled branches above, I neither saw nor heard the bird of prey.
"In front," said the samurai, out of the corner of his mouth.
I leaned past him to see nothing but the tedious landscape I'd been trying to forget.
"Your flask," said Kat, showing me his open palm. "Give it to me."
"That’s the big deal? You're thirsty? You woke me for that?"
"The flask!" he snapped.
I huffed petulantly, removed the flask from my shoulder, and placed it in his ready hand. The samurai bobbled the watery weight in the bottle before lobbing it onto the path ahead of us. It landed comfortably on a bed of soggy leaves, and there it remained.