Walking into a Harbringer

The two walked for a very, very long time without discussion.  Rog was still a little sore about the clown and Jimbo didn't want to ignite a confrontation.

jimbo tried very hard to lighten the mood by whistling but suceeded only in blowing dust out of his wide open esophagus.  So, he chose instead to focus on the scenery of flat red plains of sand and one toned ochre sky.

Finally, Rog broke the silence.

"Lookit here!", He was pointing to a set of footprints.  "Some other capadres have the same idea as us.  Let's follow them."

Jimbo eased up at Rog's enthusiasm and hobbled a little quicker, using his pickaxe as a crutch.  When his heel had fallen off, a while back, Rog could not have been bothered to stop.  Jimbo was content at least that the tension had receded.

"So, Rog?"

"Yeah, Jimbo"

"Ever feel bad about any of the people you killed?"

"Yeah, one broad who died of blood loss before I could finish her off with a mallet"

"You ever feel bad about the old crones you ripped off?"

"Oh, sure, Rog, all the time."

"Huh?  Why didn't you say that at the gates?"

"I thought it was a trick question"

Rog shook his head, reached inside his chest and yanked his heart out with a sinewy twang, and handed it to his counterpart.They both laughed until they were in pain, wheezing dust out of their empty cavities and collapsing on the ground.

"This is wierd, Rog"

"What's that, Jimbo?"

"Wouldn't we be whipped right now?  We should be whipped.  It's whipping time."

"Maybe they lost us, just keep followin these footsteps, obviously these other two blokes weren't caught.  We, well, I should have thought of this a long time ago."

"I guess so.  It's wierd not hearing the moaning and decapitating."

"I'm sure you'll get used to it"

"Rog, if I had a dog, you know what I'd call it?"

"Whassat, Jimbean?"

"Cleaver"

"Cleaver?  Whagt kind of name is Cleaver?"

"Rog"

"Yeah, Jimbo"

"These other guy's with the footseps, one of them lost his heel too"

"What's that?"

"I mean look at the prints, Rog, I think they're, they look a lot like our footprints."

"What's that, Jimbo?", Rog looked down at the prints in front of them and then at their feet, and then the prints behind them which had since doubled. "  Aw, nuts!  Damn it all to hell". 

He looked at Jimbo like it was Jimbo's fault .

"You just made us walk in a circle"

"Rog?"

That's when the sky split open .  White light broke through the red, like feathers out of a gaping, burst pillow, and for a moment, the first cool air they had ever felt softly glided against their exposed skin.  The air rippled with the flap of a blowing pinwheel and the ground shook to an untimely rythm.   The duo were knocked backwards by a magnificent gust of air and lay still staring as the heavens heaved to and fro.  It was if they were Jim Morrison looking at a kaledeiscope.

"Rog?"

"I think we may have just saved ourselves, Jimbean"

The End

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