Chapter Two
Purgatory
Ian led me back up the trail to the place where I had first seen him. He said that someone else had ‘crossed over’ at the same place, the day before, at dusk. They had started down the trail and were attacked by a mountain lion. In the struggle with the lion the ‘visitor’s backpack was ripped off and tumbled over a large rock outcropping into the brush below. This individual was severely injured, and barely made it back to the cross over point alive. The backpack contained the equipment to set up another crossover point far from here. Ian hoped that since this was not a very popular trail due to the steep rocky portions, the backpack would not have been discovered yet. A GPS transmitter in the pack had transmitted the location of the attack, however the signal was lost when the pack apparently fell off of the rock outcropping. It was assumed that the transmitter had been damaged in the fall, or perhaps the backpack was wedged between some rocks which blocked the GPS signal. Ian explained that our own earth’s satellites were used in conjunction with a receiver of Tarosian design We hiked to the place on the trail where the attack occurred. Most of the signs of the attack were far enough off the trail that probably no one else had noticed them. Ian was very relieved about this. He had worried that lion tracks coupled with blood and bits of torn clothing might have been discovered. This finding would surely have been reported to the forest rangers, which would have instigated a search for the victim of the attack. The hiker must have been attacked from behind and thrown off the trail and down a small hill where the struggle took place. There were bits of clothing, blood, and trampled brush all over a rock outcropping, over which was a nearly vertical drop of several hundred feet. Looking over the edge of the rocks we scanned the area below and could see no sign of the missing pack, so we started to search the area beneath the rocks. The chaparral was extremely dense old growth and I knew this was not going to be easy. Two hours later we met at a level knoll at the bottom of the rocks, and neither of us had found the backpack.
It was almost dusk and pretty apparent that we wouldn’t find the pack that day. The good news was that almost certainly no one else had found it either due to the dense growth and steep terrain. We decided to set up camp and continue the search in the morning. Ian had chosen not to bring any brush cutting tools, so as to not call attention to himself. Since this was a protected wilderness area, cutting brush was not allowed. A machete would not have been much use anyway, and a chain saw too noisy. I told Ian that I had another week before I would be missed, so I would be available to search as long as it took.
As we were looking for a suitable campsite, I noticed what looked like an old overgrown hiking, or possibly game trail. The chaparral had covered the trail leaving a small tunnel like opening. I got down on my hands and knees and could see about 100ft. down the trail before it curved to the right. There were enough small openings through the chaparral branches to make the trail clearly visible even in the dimming light. Just before the trail curved there was a bright orange object barely visible at the side of the trail. I was so exited I shouted my find to Ian and he verified that the backpack was orange. I ripped off my own backpack and began scrambling down the trail practically on my stomach to clear the overgrown brush. Ian waited in the clearing with anticipation as I shuffled toward my goal. When I was about ten feet away I could see clearly that the orange object was indeed a backpack. I turned around to relay the good news to Ian when a giant boulder landed on my back. At least I thought it was a giant boulder until I realized that the boulder had sharp teeth and claws. I felt a searing pain in the back of my neck just before my world went black.
When I awoke I thought I had died and gone to Hell, Purgatory, or some other very bad place. I was on my back in a prone position looking up at a wrinkled black and orange ceiling that looked wavy and made me nauseous. Flames danced in my peripheral vision. I had no pain, or feeling of any kind, but I was terrified. I shut my eyes and silently begged God to please send me someplace else. No such luck. When I finally opened my eyes again it was clear that I was still in Hell, or someplace very similar. Suddenly a soft deep voice broke the agonizing silence. “Robert, are you awake?” I couldn’t move my head to see who was speaking, however I recognized the voice. It was Ian. This realization made all my fear and tension melt away immediately, and I was left a with a feeling of peaceful non-existence. I could open and close my eyes and that was it. As I lay there Ian kneeled over me and saw that I was awake. I couldn’t speak, or move but he didn’t seem too concerned about that. I wondered about his lack of concern, and a new panic overtook me. What if I had been duped and was about to become the guest of honor at some sort of alien cannibalistic ceremony on another planet in another dimension.
As it turned out I was still here on good old planet earth. Ian explained that we were in a cave, and the hellish effect was a campfire glowing on the cave ceiling. Yes, the boulder that fell on me did have teeth, and was the same mountain lion that had mauled Ian’s colleague. The cave was the mountain lion’s lair, and the big pussy cat was safely sedated [probable feeling about as helpless as I did at the time]. Ian had worked his healing magic on me, as he had at the campground, however he informed me that there were limits to the wonders contained in his little special first aid kit. Apparently I was in pretty bad shape, and his magic was just holding me together temporarily. Ian felt the damage was so severe that the best medical procedures on earth would not be able to ‘put Humpty Dumpty together again’. He informed me that he would have to take me back to his world for proper medical care. Ian was very concerned about this for two reasons. One, because no human from our world had ever been brought back to Toras as this would violate their non-intervention policy. Ian was sure however that under these special circumstances I would be allowed to cross over with him. After all, I had found the missing backpack, and if they did not intervene I would surely die.
The second reason no one had ever been brought back was the real kicker. It seems that the chemical and molecular structure of earth’s life forms Vs. those on Toras is slightly different, and there was some speculation as to whether the existing ‘cross over’ techniques would work properly. ‘Properly’ as in, I might end up something like a scrambled egg. After some discussion we decided that being a scrambled egg was no worse than the certain death if I stayed here. Ian decided to go back to Toras for a rescue team, and assured me that I would be alright until he returned. It was imperative to complete the rescue before any hikers appeared on the trail near the crossover point in the morning. After all we wouldn’t want anyone to see a bunch of aliens making human scrambled eggs now would we.
Ian left, and all I could do is lay there incapacitated and wait. The day’s events had taken quite a toll on me and soon I dosed off to sleep. It seemed that I had only slept for minutes when I awoke with a start. It was just starting to get light out and I could here voices in the distance. I heard someone say, “he must be down here somewhere, but this brush is so thick he might be really hard to find. I couldn’t understand why they were having such a hard time finding me. I guessed that maybe Ian had failed to mark a GPS waypoint for the cave location in his haste to return to Toras. I knew that they must be running late and that hikers could appear on the trail at any time now. I noticed that my paralysis was easing up and tried to call out. In a raspy but fairly loud voice I yelled “ I’m over here”. I kept yelling and soon I heard a voice say “hang on we’re coming, we hear you”. A wave of relief swept over me, and I actually started getting excited about the prospect of visiting a world unknown to anyone on earth. Even the impending risk of getting scrambled was overshadowed by my excitement.
The new sound of several large chainsaws starting up quickly brought me out of my reverie. Immediately I knew that I had made a huge mistake by giving away my location. Ian’s rescue team would not be using chain saws for fear of discovery. This was a U.S. Forest Service rescue team, coming to evacuate me to a hospital full of the latest medical equipment, the best doctors, and certain death. Someone must have stumbled onto the Cougar’s bloody attack site up near the crossover point and sent in the cavalry. They thought they were rescuing Ian’s friend.
The chainsaws were getting louder, and I knew that in a few minutes some well intentioned rescuers would burst into the cave and seal my fate. Even if my real rescuers arrived on the scene, I was sure that the non-intervention policy would prevent them from getting involved in this mess.