Chapter 7-
“Do you know this woman?”
Gideon was slowly becoming annoyed; this mission was not going as he had planned, and Gideon Jepta’s plans were all-encompassing.
Gallow sighed and turned his head downwards to gather his thoughts. In a moment he had turned up again and brightly exclaimed, “hey, why don’t we take this into my office? I have one of those now, you know?”
Gideon squinted and looked back and forth between the players in this scene.
“Fine, but I’m assuming the girl is going home?”
Janna, who had kept quiet while the adults talked, suddenly perked up. Gallow turned his attention to her and, overcome with a sudden sympathy, reasoned, “hey, do you think you can find it on your own?”
The girl was not upset by his words, after all, he needed to take care of something that was obviously much more dire than her, a feeling she was not unused to. Smiling warmly and genuinely, she replied softly, “yes, I think I can.”
With that, she turned and skipped away. Gallow watched her depart with a certain longing; he caught himself in this feeling and realized “I wouldn’t mind being that carefree again,” before beginning his walk back to the sheriff’s office, motioning the other two to follow.
Once inside, Gideon took a seat on a rickety wooden chair which Gallow had pulled out of a storage shack. Perhaps the native guide would have taken this as a rude gesture, it being the only guest seat, but her eyes betrayed her perpetual confidence, always lowered just enough to communicate the comfort she felt in the situation.
Gallow sat on the arm of the chair positioned on the other side of the desk, not wanting to assume a position so prone as sitting in this exchange, before raising the back of his hand to show the sigil marked into his flesh.
“This is the woman who gave me this mark.”
Gideon examined it closely.
“I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean,” he said flatly.
“It means,” the native woman spoke up, “that it’s time for you to show me the spring.”
Gallow, taken aback, looked at her with a new, guarded curiosity.
“The spring?” he questioned, “is that what you’ve been trying to get at with this?”
She sighed and lifted her hand.
“[Vanishing Point]”
An intangible rush of energy was felt in the room, Gideon’s ears popped as he looked wildly at her. Gallow’s vision was obscured by harsh darkness, leaving her as the only thing in his sight. Despite her standing perfectly still in the darkness, she appeared to shift closer, directly in front of him, at an incredible speed. Suddenly, the darkness was lifted and he was no longer in his chair, but standing before her.
The mysterious woman reached out, touching the back of his hand. The diamond sigil surged with power. Gallow, too disoriented to object, felt a sudden pull on his hand, similar to his encounter with Fiemmo, but with much greater force.
“Hey-” the young man blurted out, but it was too late. His hand flew to the door, dragging him along with it. His body slammed into the wooden frame, being crushed against it.
“What the hell do you think-” again he was cut off, the young woman calmly turned the knob of the door, immediately ejecting him from the building.
“Excuse me, ma’am, what are you doing?” Gideon posed with a tone blending authority and annoyance.
“Reconvening,” she replied, before taking off in pursuit of the helpless sheriff.
Meanwhile, Gallow was desperately struggling against the increasing momentum forward, his feet planted firmly into the ground, his free arm grabbing his other wrist, but to no avail. He was pulled through town in the direction of the tree stump, kicking up dust as he went.
A mother and her child were walking down the main street when they saw his approach.
“Look, sweety, that’s the sheriff, say hi!” she explained to her son.
They both raised their hands to wave to Gallow as he passed by at blistering speeds. The resultant dust cloud they were left in hazed the two in confusion. Moments later, the young native woman ran past in hot pursuit, followed by a befuddled Gideon.
Gallow broke through the city limits and surged through the stretch of wilderness to Janna and her father’s farm. The stump of a tree loomed in the distance, quickly growing in size until he was near to crashing into it. Though he was familiar with the invisible gateway of the stump, he still closed his eyes out of panic.
Abruptly, he was lying face-down in the grass of the Garden. His hand twitched once more, and he felt the draw towards the water. Swiftly, he slammed his other arm down on top of it to force it down. Back on Earth, the enigmatic woman, who had just witnessed Gallow’s own entrance, filled her eyes with an excited fire. She leapt forward out of her sprint, flying towards the stump as Gideon, a few meters away, watched her simply disappear into thin air.
He skidded to a halt.
“No… they didn’t just…” he thought. Gideon Jepta had lived and watched die in a world of strict regiment and rules- a common epithet repeated by his troops read “If You Can See It, You Must Follow It.” When a newer recruit would ask him to explain this saying, he would smile and say “the world in front of you is the only thing you can trust, only act based off of what you can see.”
Now that straightforward mindset was being challenged by something he saw, but just couldn’t accept as real. This had always been the danger of his philosophy, and as such he had sworn off alcohol and other substances in an effort to dilute his perception as little as possible. Gideon stood before the stump, heart still pounding from the sprint, and collected himself.
“If this is what I’ve seen” he thought, “I must follow it.”
With that, he stepped forward into the infinite space between distances.
---
Gideon landed face-first in a cool patch of grass. His arms propped him up before he hopped to his feet. As he was taught in the academy, he prepared for action before even taking in his surroundings; his senses were thrown wildly off by the sudden change in time and space. As his eyes adjusted to the beaming rays of light, he took in the unfamiliar scenery.
He was surrounded by towering trees of an indeterminate species, flora of brilliant lush colors, an impenetrable blue sky hung over him. The borders of the Garden were unclear, the further he looked in one direction, the denser the forestry seemed to become, the horizon almost seemed to be swallowed up by darkness. Before him he noted his guide, who had apparently landed on her feet.
“Excuse me-” he said, shakily.
He cut himself short, noticing, for the first time, a concerned expression on her face. He took several steps toward her; her eyes were glued ahead, observing the spring pool a few feet away.
“Hey, what’s the deal?” he questioned.
“That man…”
“Yes?”
“He was dragged into the spring…”
Gideon snapped his own attention to where she was looking.
“Is he going to drown?” he inquired, concernedly.
“No,” she replied. “If the spirit of the spring is keeping him down there, it means he’s dreaming.”
“Dreaming? What the hell are you talking about with a spirit?” Gideon asked, exasperated.
“He could be dreaming…” she continued, not listening to him. She approached the water and dipped her finger into it before speaking again.
“But it seems more like he’s having a nightmare.”