Low Budget Productions Proudly Presents,
A Starfall Comics Comic:
Swamp Patrol
#15: Transfigurations Book Three: Exodus
cover: A battered Michael Srinivathan lying on the forest floor, looking up at a white clad man standing at his head. Blinding energy cascades from the man's hands and eyes, obscuring his facial features. In the corner, written in what appears to be drying blood, is TRANSFIGURATIONS BOOK THREE: EXODUS.
It wasn't just the night that was foggy. It was his vision.
Michael Srinivathan had been on the run for god knew how long. It was still night, so that gave him some idea of how long it had been, but he was lost, and combined with what was probably multiple fractures in his right foot, it made him a little upset. Alright, a lot.
That's what you get for doing a half-ass job, Michael.
The woods -- swamp? did it matter? -- around the house were a lot harder to navigate than they had been when he'd been coming out here in the first place. Of course, that had been before the fight, before he broke his foot in that godforsaken dump his target lived in, before he'd made the mistake of taking on a shapeshifter in addition to the one he wanted to... no, the one he had been hired to kill.
He had tried his power, tried to weave the fabric of the universe into some shape or another to aid him, to help him get away. But the pain that rivetted up and down his leg with every other step, the shadows that flicked and fluttered across his vision if he stopped fighting them even for a second, the coldness and numbness -- he couldn't even find a strand to take hold of, let alone weave anything halfway useful. He was going to have to do this the normal way. The hard way.
Grimacing, Michael dragged himself back to his feet and started limping, slowly, painfully, in the direction he hoped was home. Gradually, he noticed the night wasn't quite so dark anymore.
Too soon for dawn. Isn't it? He paused, leaned against a tree, took all the weight he could off of his broken foot. God, I don't know. How late could it be?
The light grew brighter. Brighter. Painful.
Whatever it is, it's not dawn. He held his hand up to shield his eyes from the light. Damn...
The light was coming from deeper in the swamp -- forest? he still didn't know, didn't really care -- and he could just make out a figure silhouetted against it. A man.
What...
"Michael Srinivathan."
How did it know his name?
"Michael Srinivathan, you have sinned. You are a disgrace in God's eyes."
Michael didn't like where this was heading. He concentrated -- maybe, just maybe, he could pull some of the fabric of the universe...
"Your soul is forfeit unless you accept your redemption."
The figure was moving towards him, and he could just make out some features. It looked... it looked like one of the kids he had been hired to kill... but none of the information had said...
Renounce.
Michael spun to see who was speaking, putting all of his weight on his broken foot. He cried out, crumpled to the ground. And there wasn't even anyone there. Great.
The light was too much now. Too much. Maybe... if he just closed his eyes and gave up...
Frank was idly surfing the web when his 'new mail' chime went off.
Date: Fri Sep 3 22:59:49 1999 From: nemo@erewhon.net Subject: Whereabouts To: fstolid@cydonia.com --=====================_936428389==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" I know where you can find what you're looking for. Decode, and follow me. WIIMUKWILLIXWAGAYQBAAAQACAFCAKBIABEZJCAWIQANQEAAABDRVVTLAABIAOMZCJAQIAADOAQA AMUAFUDSAKIAFWDTAIIAFLDUALIAFIDVAXIAWWDWAWIAFIDXAIEAMUAYKWEIAAOLLRCI2AXAWAAW KIAIMQAUKABAAACADXAWAAAIEAALAAAPVGLI+AADAXMAAADWAIB/WDXHAAAAILLIWKUMIIWCQAAA KAAGEAQAEAB6AGAZQAAEIAABGMAAAFIAZQBAHUAABAHIAAAAAAAAABELAEBAAAAANAAACOABRAAA BAIJULOBPAHHANSBTAGUAIABCAGOAYQBNAGJAIABSAGUAZABNEDSRAYRDMAERHNMVARMKRWWXILK AJRLTMIZTAAAWAAASEBOTAARDOSFMEIDUCAAATLAAAANNSPAARCJESANIMSUMLAAJNAAATJIAAMN AAAGIECNDERERUOTWMSU/ERDCWMKIHSRDCDAAM+EYUEPETTOSELELCTDASICAAMTDEDADAAAAADA NNNAAAMMMWIISMDEIFINENTGDSVBBRSTTASENMSNEUENRTNLINAATOPRTOWLLIWKUMIIWDVMMARJ WAKKBAANWENOSADKMTAACDCAWAAKNAJNTAAPCTABOKAADTADAHNUTYNATUSKOSADKAAADMAAAAVN -------------------------------
His finger stopped a fraction of an inch above the 'delete' key.
This wasn't spam.
This... was... ... ...of COURSE!
How could he have been so blind, even for a second? A second was all it would have taken to delete his best chance at finding his brother. He wasn't going to make that mistake. The answer was staring him in the face.
All he had to do was read.
Michael's vision swam in and out like a five year old in the tide.
What the hell have you gotten yourself into?
He could barely think through the pain. Not just the pain in his leg. The pain in the back of his eyes from the light. The pain in his arm from where the kid -- that's what he was, he was sure of it, even if he sure didn't seem like the kid he'd been told about -- had blown a hole the size of a quarter.
Michael knew he hadn't managed to run away, hadn't managed to hide. He'd just managed to get enough room between himself and the kid to delay the inevitable. And he knew just what the inevitable was.
Live by the sword, die by the sword. he thought to himself.
But he hadn't even managed to live by the sword yet. Still.
A failure. And now Marie won't even have her brother to look after her.
"Come," the kid was saying. Michael could see the light he gave off -- he was still a few trees away, and didn't seem to be in a hurry. In perfect shape, Michael could have given him a run for his money. But the pain had blotted out his power, and now he couldn't even manage a fast walk because of his foot.
"Accept your redemption. Accept your redemption and return to God's grace."
Michael tried to swallow the lump in his throat and looked up at the branches that obscured the sky. If this is how it ends, I want my money back.
The kid had found him. The shaft of pain and flash of light told him that.
"Goddamn!" He swore despite himself.
"Yes," the kid said. "He damns you to an eternity of hellfire if you do not repent. This holy light represents but a fraction of his fury, for I am merely his servant. Renounce your demonic ways, and he shall spare you."
Michael could feel himself losing blood, but he didn't want to look -- he didn't care where anymore. He would just... let it... was that his mother? But...
Saint Theodore looked down at the limp form of the demon before him.
"They know not what they do," he said to himself as he stooped down and hoisted the demon up with one hand. He had never been this strong before. He still wasn't -- this was God's strength, he was merely the vessel. He knew that now.
"Let us take you to Heaven for the moment. You are not fully lost."
The space between Saint Theodore and the tree beside him slipped open a little, and he stepped into Heaven, carrying the demon with him.
1010111 1101000 1101111 101110
Very well.
Itwasbrightsobright but finally he had broken free and now it
was just like it used to be only he had
to get used to everything all over again.
Carter Stevens.
Yes. That was his name. This was his body.
His body.
Carter Stevens. You have accepted Redemption. You walk once again in God's grace.
"Thank you," he whispered, with a mouth he had thought would never move again.
Now come with me.
The world shifted, and for a split second Carter was terrified that he was returning to the world inside the computer. But no -- he had never seen anything like this when he was hooked up to that machine.
The sky above him was a shade of blue he had never seen before, dotted with clouds like semi-precious stones. It had a vividness, a validity he had never seen in the world before, inside or outside of the computer Kay had tricked him into joining. He hesitated. Had he made the right decision?
The demon you brought.
"Yes, Redemption?"
Leave him to me.
"Yes, Redemption."
Frank looked at the map on his screen. Was it possible? How did he know he could trust this anonymous person on the other end of the e-mail, this nemo@erewhon.net?
Did he have a choice?
He made a few calls, and soon they were all crammed into his cramped and cluttered house, Janice and Brill standing because he'd run out of surfaces where people could sit. Frank perched next to his computer on his desk and started to explain why they were there.
"I know we've all been looking for Ted. Well, somehow, someone else found him." He raised a hand to cut off Janice's interjection. "I don't know who, I don't know how they knew. All I know is I got an e-mail this morning, and in that e-mail was a map that's supposed to lead us to him."
"What makes you so sure this is legit?" Janice asked.
"I don't have a choice. We have to find my brother, damn it, and this is the best chance we've got." He spun the monitor around to face them. "This is the map that came in my e-mail. I'm following it. Anyone who doesn't want to come with me can leave now."
He looked around. Brill cleared his throat, but didn't say anything.
"I'll take your silence as consent, then. Let's get going."