Things That Bump Back

It was the end of January and the beginning of a new year when I slipped out just before dusk and took off through the woods that surrounded the Legion's Operation Center. Between trees and then on them and finally running through the treetops, some fifteen feet off the ground.

The trees gradually began to thin out, and I almost missed it, but at the last second corrected, and made it from the tree to the roof of an apartment building. I kept going, enjoying the feel of the wind as I darted across buildings and up and down the valleys that made up Lausanne.

I passed through Sainf, down the steep Rue Petite Chêne, past the central train station, following the metro lines until finally, I landed atop the roof of the Mövenpick Hotel along the shores of Lac Leman. It was a path I was familiar with, having run it many times before.

Humanity never looked up, and neither saw nor heard me at all. I'd kept the pack hidden on the roof, shifted, dressed, and walked off the side of the building to land in a deserted alley. I was the wolf, no tiger in sheep's clothing. That would have brought a smile to Tamara's face.

The rocks along the lakeshore had been sun-warmed. The sprinkling of snow had melted into the lake under the weak winter sun. Following the urging of the beast within, it took me a few minutes to find the warmest spot along the shoreline.

For at least an hour, perhaps two, I was alone with my thoughts as the wind blew in from the lake instead of down from the city and mountains of Lausanne behind me. Still, I smelt the coffee and hot chocolate before him: that situational awareness, or sixth feline sense. If I had a tail, it would be twitching from side to side in curiosity.

He was a few steps behind me when he spoke, "Worrying is like a rocking chair," he held out the coffee, "No milk, no sugar."

I nodded my thanks and accepted the proffered cup, "How's that?"

"It gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you anywhere," he replied. Like many of the veterans, he would get straight to the point. I sipped the hot, bitter liquid and found that it suited my mood and temperament at that moment.

"Tamara told me about you and asked me to watch out for you if anything happened to her before you were ready. I keep my promises. I'm going to answer the question that has been burning a hole through your brain: Can the Legion realistically make a difference?"

I gave a bitter bark of laughter. The question had crossed my mind more than once since my elevation, and it had been bugging me for days, "Tell me, how do we make things better?"

It was his turn to laugh, "You want to get better, then I suggest you start popping pills." he took a sip of his beverage; "You want to get it right, deal with the truth. You're scared that you didn't make a difference when it's all said and done."

He paused and sighed, "Make no mistake: The innocent and Legionnaires will continue to die. But it's what we do before we fall that matters most. We live in the present, and we fight for the future of humanity against mutants, heretics, cultists, the lost and the damned, demons, and other crazies. We fight to inspire those who fight alongside us and those who will fight after us, whether tomorrow or in twenty years."

He rose to his feet, "The Legion is bigger than you, me, or Tamara. What we do is ensure that the Legion never dies. That there will always be Legionnaires to raise the battle standard if and when it falls so that others can continue the fight as the guardians of humanity. The world survives because of our actions."

His free hand rose to stall my apparent protest, "I'll agree that it survives in ignorance, but so long as the Legion fights, there will be hope and a good future for humanity."

Lukas was many things and would become more than just a fellow Legionnaire in the following months. He would become my leader, ally, acquaintance, and eventually a friend. But at the moment, I had a lot more to think about, even as night closed in and worse, my coffee grew cold, "What's the second question?"

Lukas drained his drink, "I read the report, and you were honest. Tamara would want me to explain something to you about what happened when you killed the demon."

I looked at him for a long moment and then did the only thing I could do: Nod.

"You weren't there, but it took control when I let that beast out. I was there, in its mind, I had influence, I had some control, then it seemed, to be satisfied with what we'd done, and just left." I drained my coffee, "I'm wondering what happens when it comes back… do I slip into the same sort of raging, bloodthirsty beast? Or do I control it now?"

Some of me liked it, while another was terrified because I wanted it. It was the reason I spent so much time running rooftops in my transformed state. My dietary preferences had shifted to accommodate its love of blood and raw steaks. I was in tune with and able to commune and understand it.

Lukas shook his head, "Tamara had a similar beast within. But having a beast within is not what makes you human or a monster. Knowing that you may have to let the beast out is what makes you human. You have control of it, and it accepts that. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, and you'd be a name with three dates on a rectangular metal plaque."

He tossed the cup aside, "Tamara went through the same crisis of… conscience you are having after she turned, and it took her a while to find her humanity again. It's a burden and responsibility to keep the beast docile until it's needed. The trick is knowing when to employ that weapon of last resort."

"That you are going through the same thing," he slapped me on the shoulder, "means I don't have to worry about your morality or sanity much."

I grunted, hands in my jacket pockets, staring out across Lake Geneva. Lukas held out a business card. "Tamara was my friend, and you know that recent events cut your training short. So I'll get to it: I run a small independent tactical unit. The Cabal and I need good people. Tamara vouched for you."

I took the offered card without comment and pocketed it without looking, "Call me if you're interested."

His feet crunched through the snow, and I was alone again. Lukas left me with a lot to think about and do with my present, past, and future. He was right. So was Tamara: No matter how dark the night, the sun has to rise.

The sun's rise and what we see with the sunrise is up to us, the Legion, and the difference we will all make.

The sun was setting in the distance, and the stars were not out yet. The night was young. The misguided heretics and followers, cultists, and servants of the Darkness prowl in the night and make things go bump.

It's time to bump back.