Chapter 9: Don't say that word I hate being called that

Jerry would think back to the days when he was growing up in the temple. His parents' deaths were deemed suicides, but Jerry's six-year-old mind could sense that something was wrong.

 He lacked the mental aptitude and maturity to investigate his family's apparent suicide. When his family's final employee took him to the sect of the dark mist in the fog-covered peaks that reveal no sky or bottom wherever you look.

A magnificent edifice was created on the shallower and less jagged areas of the mountain, serving as a testament to beauty and mystery as the fog passed through, adding to the riddles that everyone was asking. Jerry, with his final remaining goods such as his suitcase, cellphone, and games, took in the view of the wooden gate post with signage that stated:

 "We seek only furtherance in nature's blessings whether light or dark" A motto for the sect that studies the mist. Jerry bowed to the final person who knew him and handed them a slip of paper as they bowed and waved their way down the mountain, disappearing into the mist.

Jerry remembered how they welcomed him with love and prosperity, instructing him how to heal without a blessing like the so-called Infected, whom the sect believed as being blessed by gods. They did not ostracize them like the rest of the world, but rather accepted and trained them to transform the blessing that was once viewed as a curse into a journey of promise.

During one of the numerous harnessing lessons, Jerry encountered a master with no gifts whose temper was as volatile as a lit fuse that may explode. Students shunned him and concentrated on the teaching of less irritable instructors, but Jerry grinned as he recalled his initial exchange with the strict master.

 "Excuse me sir" His voice boomed through the quiet training room as a man with a bald head blew smoke from a long pipe, which slowly dispersed when he hovered his hand near the expeller.

 "Youngling shouldn't you be with so called heroes of the world and learn how to master the blessing without this man holding you back"

Jerry played with his fingers nervously as he said with hints of hesitation:

"Like you said Master, I should learn how to master my blessing but how? even though I am but a husk with no blessing to be hero"

The man stopped puffing and stood, turning to face Jerry. His body was huge, his thin frame revealed his aging physique, his satiated lips were sucked slightly, and his eyes were veined in crimson from smoking.

 "So you're the youngling who has been passed down to me, right. "How unlucky you are to find me in a somber mood." As he spoke, intense and stifling pressure radiated from his body, his stature making his presence considerably more scary and lethal. The sickly-looking man was replaced by a warrior of concealed might, who asked Jerry:

"When you are sent to me, you are not given the option of turning back; even if your blessing arrives, Youngling, you will remain with me until I judge you worthy to learn what you were sent here to do. For the time being, you should focus on the fundamentals rather than the push-ups, planks, and body-enhancing activities that they all teach. In my lesson, you learn how to survive.

As he said this, he took another blow from his pipe and blew the smoke at Jerry, who unconsciously inhaled it. He coughed fiercely while using his hand to soothe his neck, and his eyes got crimson and welled up with tears. The more smoke was produced by the pipe, the more his body allowed it in; he attempted to resist the smoke by holding his breath, but this failed.

 He had to breathe, but he couldn't. Jerry could only think of one thing: that old crone was attempting to murder him. His head gave out as he landed hard on the ground, and the last voice he heard was:

"A blessing is nothing without the mind; control the mind, and the gods will favor your resolve and gift you. Youngling, master your mind, and favor will shower you with blessings."

 Jerry remembers that day fondly because it was the day he formed a lifetime relationship with a man who despised children and discovered his blessing before the Masters of the Dark Mist stole his one link to power... his eyes.

 "Kid, wake up," shouted Elliot calmly, shaking Jerry awake.

Jerry then said:

 "I didn't sleep at all but thanks for the gesture"

 Elliot scoffed and returned to grasping the steering wheel, adding:

 "I can't really tell if you are sleep under that thing"

 Jerry explains:

 "Sleeping doesn't come natural like eating, after all I am in a truck with a stranger I cannot let my guard down"

 Elliot chuckled quietly, "Guard with what?" "You are but a boy without a weapon, how would you guard against me?"

 Jerry laughed and added:

 "Oh there is a weapon in my grasp, much more deadly than the gun in your back pocket"

If Jerry could see, he would have seen Elliot's body become numb after trembling for a while. He relaxed his mind and took the comment about the pistol as a hunch. Jerry smiled as his head turned forward.

 "Good you're relaxed, so far away is Callisto. "I must get there before nightfall."

 Elliot said, shifting in his seat:

 "In about ten minutes"

 Jerry's smile became sour and somber as he asked:

 "How long have we left the woods?"

 Elliot shifted again.

 "About forty five minutes"

 Jerry had a frightening notion as he grasped his cane hard and inquired with calm indifference:

 "So Mister Elliot how long have you been in the truck business?"

Elliot stopped moving when Jerry noticed the change from the shared seat in the vehicle, which was a couch. Elliot responded fondly:

 "The job has been passed down from father to son. My dad taught me to drive when I was thirteen years old with the intention of driving this one day, and now here I am."

 Jerry didn't smile as he remained facing the front and asked:

 "Do you have family?"

 "No I didn't make a plan to have one, the truck has been my passion that took my full attention"

 Elliot took a corner as the truck shook, but Jerry remained stiff and still, tightening his grip as he asked:

 "Have you ever drove to Castillo before?"

"Yes many times during this time" he replied.

Elliot steered the truck along the bumpy road. He then questioned Jerry:

 "Have you ever been to Carllo Jerry?"

 Jerry lied.

 "Yes, the festival is one of my favorite where everyone dresses like people of the past and what did you wear last festival?"

 Elliot then stated, with a slightly forced tone,

 "A barbarian"

 Jerry's mouth curled into a grin as he continued:

 "Wow, that's fantastic; I only saw those people in stories. "Which tribe?"

 Elliot pondered for a moment before saying:

 "Bone Barbarian"

Jerry slowly turned his face toward Elliot, his grin replaced by a serious expression. Seeing this, Elliot asked:

 "Hey kid, what's the matter? "Want to piss?"

 Jerry's smirk reappeared as Elliot shifted in his seat, and the truck rocked again, causing his hand to leave the steering wheel.

 Jerry then said:

 "First time driving a truck huh, Guess that person doesn't train his people well in acting and lying"

 Elliot asked:

 "Who is that person?"

Jerry replied:

"One of the brothers that you are taking me to, I must say your acting would have been believable if I was truly blind to the truth like all humans who believe in their own kind. You made many mistakes in your acting and lying, want me to elaborate?"

Elliot did not respond, possibly to give the accusation some thought. Jerry faced the front again as he relaxed his grasp and used his cane as an arm rest.

 "Any truck driver these days follows the road as it is, with no deviations or shortcuts, due to the high spike in Infectants abandoned by their own government and the ambush of stand-alone trucks for supplies, particularly in the woods. I was excited to receive a trip to Castillo City, but when you told me that we had left the forest about 45 minutes ago, I began to calculate something based on the last time someone told me how long it would take to go there.

"From the Bellows to Castillo is about one hour and eighteen minutes with a car, but an hour and forty-five minutes with a truck. Those woods back there are part of the suburb Green Holt, but the journey to Castillo from there is fifty minutes. You were off by five minutes, hehehe." To some, the calculations may appear silly and weird. Truck drivers may say the wrong time, but if you know what you drive, you will know that time is critical for you drivers, and the truck would have been faster after you picked me up to avoid deadline.

"We could have arrived to Castillo right now, but you took a detour down to Eric's valley, which is not near Castillo. So the detour explanation isn't going to work on me, and the lying part was when you stated bone barbarians, which are ancient and belong in the first history, yet last year Castillo celebrated the eighth history being the revolution of steam and machinery. So you've never been there nor participated in the festival.

Jerry took a deep breath and braced himself, knowing that where he was headed was where he would fulfill a little girl's promise. Eric's valley is where he saved Allie's father, and Elliot is part of that cult that took him.

 Jerry said mockingly, "Long live Brother Jericho," as he performed the cult greeting by pressing his forehead with his pointing finger and middle finger, then dragging the fingers to his nose and finally kissing them.

 Seeing this, Elliot halted the truck and dropped his façade:

"You caused Brother Samuel's death. So do not strain my patience."

 Jerry cautiously touched his blindfold and felt it:

 "Guess this is goodbye for now" Before Elliot could ask about the goodbye, he was met with an attack.

 Jerry promptly used his cane to smash Elliot in the chin, followed by a clean punch to his cheek. Before Elliot could retaliate, Jerry used his other hand to attack Elliot's crouch area and quickly twisted hard until he heard a scream of pain completing his stun. Jerry proceeds to the back pocket to grab the gun, rapidly arching it with his hands and pulls the trigger on the side of the ribs.

"Arghhh," Elliot cried in anguish, holding his side and crouch area as blood splattered from where he had been wounded. Jerry removed his blindfold, and Elliot's eyes widened with disbelief.

 "Impossible how can it be possible, Jericho said you are__"

 Before he could say anything else, the gun aimed for his head, and the shot was fired. Elliot's body leaned against the damaged window when the bullet passed through.

 "Don't say that word I hate being called that"