Alex jumped off his chariot and stormed across the sandy shore to where Odysseus stood ankle deep in the surf with a net in hand. “Got a question for you,” Alex said. “Did something slip your mind about your friend? Did you forget he was a one-eyed giant that wants to eat you?”
“I did tell you to steal the jar and not engage him,” Odysseus said, lowering his net. “I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that he’s not the nicest of fellows. It’s not as if you would’ve been stealing from a widow.”
“You could have at least warned me!”
“Or mentioned he was the guy whose eye you poked out,” Jessica added. “I nearly took a rock to the face over all this.”
Odysseus shrugged. “Life and love are unpredictable, get used to it.”
“I don’t ever plan on getting used to fighting a cyclops.”
“We rarely get all that we plan for,” said Odysseus, casting his net into the sea. “But that is another matter. Tell me, Alex, what happened once you found Polyphemus?”
“I asked him for directions, since neither of us knew who he was,” Alex answered. “He led me back to his cave. We got into a fight. I almost had my brains splattered against the wall, but I still managed to get away with the jar.”
“Knowing him, that must have been a giant fight, no pun intended,” Odysseus remarked, pulling up an empty net. “He’s always been an unrelenting one.”
“It was a big fight,” said Alex. “A bloody one at that.”
Odysseus tossed his net to the side. “I’m impressed you made it out in one piece. Many men fell to Polyphemus, many good men. What was your secret?”
“Quick wits and quicker reflexes,” Alex said, reliving the fight in his mind. “For a moment I thought that would be the end of me.”
“And?”
Alex shrugged. “And nothing. I got away.”
“Don’t mind me,” Jessica said. “I only caught you midair as you ran for your life.”
Alex smiled. “Sorry, yes. She one hundred percent had a hand in whisking me to safety.”
Odysseus looked out to the horizon and pressed his lips together. He stood in silence for a moment before grunting. “After such a struggle, one filled with uncertainty and no promise of success, did you at least find what you need?”
“I said I got the jar,” Alex said, handing it to him. “The mandrake is inside.”
“These are leaves, but not what you need,” Odysseus said as he opened the jar and inspected the contents.
“I need the potion, which you said you could make with the leaves.”
“I said you need to know what love is.”
“And I said I need to know who I love,” Alex corrected. “Or at least, should. Ergo, I need that potion.”
“Still bent on making it?”
“You make it sound like there’s an alternative.”
“There are alternatives in everything. Love. War. Life. They all have choices we make and none of them come with guarantees,” Odysseus said. “Who you love is no different than doing what you love—be it for duty or pleasure. However, since I can see you’re going to still argue with me on that, we should move on and focus on what’s next.”
“Wonderful,” Alex replied, rolling his shoulders and working out some of the stiffness that had settled in. Regardless of his Heraclean body, he hurt after repeatedly being slammed into a cavern wall. “What do I need to get now?”
“Let me say first, I’m glad you’re dedicated to see this through, because Polyphemus was the easy part,” Odysseus said as he tossed his net to the side and started drawing a map in the sand. “In the northeast part of Peloponnese lives the direct descendant of the famed Nemean lion.”
“It’s not an ordinary lion, is it?” Alex asked, fearing it was some sort of multi-headed, fire-breathing, petrifying monster that snacked on armies. Not that he had met one yet, but it had to be coming sooner or later.
“Heracles had to kill the Nemean lion as part of his twelve labors,” Jessica filled in. “Trick was, however, its golden hide could not be pierced by any weapon. As you can imagine, it wasn’t a walk in the park.”
“Lovely,” Alex said. “Let me guess, I’ve got to do the same.”
Odysseus nodded. “Yes. A life of love takes courage, Alex, and at times that life includes terrible fights that we’d rather not undertake. Thus, we’ll need that lion’s teeth and mane.”
Alex ran both hands through his hair and locked his fingers behind his head as he thought the scenario through. “How did Heracles beat this creature?”
“With a club and his bare hands,” Odysseus replied.
“He wrestled a lion?”
“Strangled it.”
Alex shook his head. “I’ll find some other way,” he said. “I’m not wrestling a lion.”
Odysseus raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not wrestling a lion,” Alex said once more. “You’ll see.”
“We’ll see,” Odysseus said with an unsettling smile.
“There has to be another way,” Alex insisted.
Odysseus motioned to the net on the ground. “You could use that to slow him when he charges.”
Alex crossed his arms over his chest. “At which point I’m supposed to jump on his back?”
“That’s the general idea.” The hero paused and then pointed further up the beach. “I’ve got another net for you as well. Take them both. If you miss with the first, you might be able to toss the second.”
“I won’t miss,” Alex declared. “Anyway, that’s not what I’m worried about.”
“You know how to use them?”
“I used to fish with casting nets when I was little,” Alex explained. “But that’s not the point. The point is, when we did we didn’t pull up five-hundred-pound killing machines. Even if we did get one, we would’ve tossed it back, not given it a belly rub.”
“What strategy you use is up to you,” Odysseus replied, “but you’ll need that lion if you want your wife back, and if I were you, I’d want as many options as possible in regards to accomplishing that task.”
“Fine. I’ll take the nets,” Alex said. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Good. There’s one other thing I must mention.”
“What’s that?”
“Your friend will need to wait here. If she helps in defeating the lion, it could taint the spell. Not to mention, I don’t think you want to chance her being eaten.”
Jessica grimaced. “I’d rather not be a snack, so if it’s all the same, I’ll sit this one out.”
“No worries. I understand.”
Alex said his goodbyes and left. Once he was back on his chariot, he wondered how he could use the nets Odysseus had given him. Perhaps he could poison the animal once he had it snared. Surely its hide couldn’t protect it against a good dose of cyanide, which he’d need to get. Or maybe he could crush its head with a boulder. Or maybe he could shoot the damn thing in the mouth. That had to be viable. Get it mad, let it roar, and jam a gun down its throat before pulling the trigger. Of course, that meant he’d need a pit stop back at Termessos, but that wouldn’t take long.
Yes, that’s what he’d do, he decided. Blast the lion right in its mouth. Quick. Simple. Easy. And best of all, it didn’t involve wrestling a five-hundred-pound killing machine with his bare hands.
* * *
On a small hill, Alex stood on a broken wall and used his binoculars to scour the area. To his left grew a clump of trees that freely offered an oasis of shade to an otherwise flat and sun-beaten landscape. To his right, a small, rocky stream darted and bubbled through the field. About three hundred yards ahead of Alex, a family of deer meandered about, oblivious to the world, and as far as Alex was concerned, begging to be eaten by a lion. Despite these things that Alex was certain should attract any ferocious feline, there was no big cat anywhere to be seen.
“Why can’t you be like all the other lions, Mister Lion?” Alex asked, taking a moment to clean his binoculars with the bottom of his jacket. “The ones on TV never hide. They aren’t camera shy. They lounge and yawn, stretch, and yawn some more.”
Alex pulled his nearly empty canteen off his web belt and took a swig of water. The drink did wonders for his parched mouth and throat, and if he was going to be out here much longer, he’d need a refill. “I know where you are, Mister Lion,” said Alex, wiping his mouth and noting the sweaty feel of his back and chest. “You’re avoiding this god-awful heat.”
As if hearing his complaint, the world changed. The wind picked up, rustled the grass below, and whipped across his back. Clouds drifted across the sky, soon parking themselves between Alex and the setting sun. Subsequently the light dimmed, and the orange tint that covered the fields disappeared, leaving the land in a perpetual state of grey. Soon that light faded, and only the faintest orange glow peeked out from the horizon.
“I guess that’s that,” Alex said, rubbing his bleary eyes and deciding to pack it in. He could barely see the trees anymore, and where the deer were in that near-black landscape was anyone’s guess. “Good night, Mister Lion,” he said, easing himself off the wall. “Good work on wasting a day. Hope you sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”
Alex picked up the fishing net at his feet and began walking the three-mile trek back to where he had left his ponies. Out of habit, he checked his Garand for the umpteenth time. The magazine was full, and there was still a .30-06 round in the chamber. Not that he’d need any of that soon. No, what he needed now was something to eat and a nice bed to sleep in.
Alex smashed into the ground, face first. Something heavy landed on his back and trapped his hands and rifle under his chest. Pain exploded in both shoulders. His neck burned in agony. Alex struggled to get upright, but he quickly realized he was fighting a losing battle with something large, furry, and laden with teeth. Every few seconds, he felt the creature’s jaw adjust, sending new waves of pain through his neck. It was only a matter of time before an artery or jugular was opened.
“Get off!” Alex screamed, but it did no good. Desperate and running out of options, he pulled the trigger to his Garand.
The rifle kicked like a rabid mule. The pressure on his neck and back was gone, and so was his attacker.
Alex, with ringing ears, planted the butt of the rifle in the ground and pushed himself up. Blood poured from open wounds. It stained his clothes and the ground below. His fingers went numb. Goosebumps covered his arms, and a chill ran through his body. Worst of all, a lion, five feet at the shoulder, boldly stepped into view. Even in the waning twilight, Alex could see the blood caked around its mouth and nose.
Alex tried to raise his rifle, but the strength in his arms had left him, indeed in his legs as well. He stumbled forward, dizzy and disoriented. Try as he might, he couldn’t stay upright. Alex fell back, striking his head on the ground below. The lion pounced him, and clamping down on his neck, Mister Lion crushed the cartilage in Alex’s neck.
Alex tried to scream, but the only thing that escaped his lips was a sputtering wheeze. His vision left him, and then so did the pain.
* * *
Alex opened an eye, groggy, confused, and unsure of everything. With a little concentration, he realized he was lying on a damp, limestone floor, unable to move or even feel his limbs. He couldn’t see much of anything else, save the mouth of a cave a dozen yards away that led to a starry night.
Though his vision was lacking, he could still hear. Something snored loudly behind his back, and it didn’t take long for Alex to realize what that something was; it was Mister Lion. Why Alex hadn’t become a late-night snack, he had no idea. But he wasn’t about to wake the feline to find out. All that mattered right now was to get up and get out. Once that was taken care of, he could figure out what next to do.
Alex summoned all his strength and tried to get to his feet. His arms, however, failed to respond in any controlled manner, and the moment he moved his legs, pain wracked his body. Alex gritted his teeth, and tears clouded his vision, but still he pushed on. Gods knew how many agonizing minutes it took for Alex to get on all fours, but eventually he did. True, he was a little lopsided, a little off balance, and near his mental breaking point, but he was up off the ground. And that, as far as Alex was concerned, was half the battle. Now all he needed to do was get out without making a sound.
When the stabbing pain in his body traded itself for a dull throb, Alex made another attempt to get to his feet. He didn’t get far. Instead of going upright, his muscles contracted and he quickly found himself back on all fours.
Refusing to be defeated or stay in the cave a moment longer, Alex slowly crawled toward the mouth of the cave. With each push of a leg, every extension of an arm, it felt like nails were being driven into his limbs and twisted for good measure. By the time he had gone only a few paces, his body shook violently. By the time he neared the mouth of the cave, he’d nearly chewed through his lower lip to keep from whimpering.
Alex stopped, unable to go any farther. He thought about easing back to the ground to regain his strength, but he worried he might not be able to get up again.
I can make the light, he told himself, picking a more attainable goal. Whereas the mouth of the cave seemed like a mile away, the moonlight that poured into the cave was only a step or two in front of him. Baby steps, he thought. Baby stepping to the light.
Alex willed himself forward. The nails drove through his arms in an even greater number than before, but they did not stop him from reaching his goal. As Alex pushed himself into the moonlight, relief washed over him. That relief, however, was quickly drowned by terror.
Alex looked down to see that his left arm was gone at the elbow, a bloody, ragged stump in its place. His right arm fared only slightly better, its hand missing half its digits and a thumb. Alex almost caught the scream in his throat, but when he looked into a puddle of water and saw the reflection of a half-eaten, one-eyed face staring back, that scream shot out of his mouth like a runaway train.
The lion roared, and Alex scampered forward, but he didn’t get far. His torn limbs could not begin to match the demands he set for them. Instead of bounding away like a nimble gazelle, he fell to the ground like a mutilated fawn.
A familiar weight of crushing, feline death landed on his back. Claws batted his head and sides. Teeth, again, locked around his neck. The lion jerked its head, and the last thing Alex heard was the sound of his vertebrae snapping.
* * *
Alex jerked awake.
Late morning sunlight poured into the empty cave, and with Mister Lion nowhere to be seen or heard, Alex looked himself over. He found his arms whole, thankfully. They were a little stiff, but not the chewed-up hunks of meat they once were. He had two hands and ten fingers, all intact. His torso was free of blemish and scar, but his clothes hung off him in bloody tatters.
Alex reached up and touched his face, trying to find any damage. His probe was ginger at first, but soon Alex was slapping his cheeks, relishing the wholeness of his head. As far as he could tell, he was tip top. No pain. No chunks of flesh missing. Hell, he even had two eyes. There was no time to argue or ponder why things were. He needed to get the hell out of there. Fortunately, he could hear birds chirping nearby, and if the birds were singing, surely Mister Lion was far away.
Alex jumped to his feet and rocketed out the mouth of the cave. The wind kissed his face and welcomed him to his newfound freedom. The sun cast its warm rays upon his skin, clearly wanting to bless his escape. Down the mountainside Alex ran, hurdling over shrubs and rocks, unsure of where he was going or where he wanted to be. All he knew was that any place had to be better than that cave.
Alex stopped next to a tree to get his bearings. The cave was about three hundred yards behind him at this point. If he squinted, to his right he thought he could make out the rock wall he’d been on the other day. It was far, maybe a mile away, but Alex felt certain he could cover the distance easily. The thought of being another feline snack only reinforced his determination.
“Wait till I see you again, Mister Lion,” Alex said, taking off again. “We’ll see who goes down then.”
Mister Lion suddenly appeared in front of Alex’s path, lazily walking out of some waist-high grass. Alex skidded to a halt, and the lion cocked his head and looked toward him as if perplexed as to why this man kept returning to life. Apparently, however, such mental musings weren’t all that important to the lion, for he charged a moment later, teeth bared.
Alex swung at the creature, more out of reflex than anything else. His fist hit it directly in the nose with a satisfying thunk. Mister Lion, however, had far too much momentum to be stopped by such a silly attack and crashed into Alex with full force. The two rolled on the ground, claws and fists flying. Somehow, by fate or by luck, Alex ended up on top of his feline foe and rained blow after blow on its head.
“Oh, you want some of this, Mister Lion?” Alex screamed, completely enraged. His fists continued to pummel the creature’s head, never slowing in the least. “Guess you picked the wrong goddamn supper! Guess you didn’t know I just keep coming back!”
Alex’s punches, while fast and furious, ultimately proved ineffective. This became clear when the lion, still on its back, raised its hind legs and hooked them under Alex’s arms. Then with one powerful kick the lion sent Alex tumbling off.
“Run, Mister Lion! Run! I’ve been eaten by birds more ferocious than you!” Alex called out as the lion disappeared into the grass. “Next time I see you, you’re going to be a pelt!”
Alex panted and smiled. Round three was his. True, his body was soaked in his own blood, but he was used to it by now, and he was clearly the victor. With that thought, Alex began the trek back to wherever his gear was. Now that he’d thoroughly spanked Mister Lion and sent him running home, he felt confident, bad ass, utterly unstoppable. He felt…knocked to the ground and torn to shreds.
* * *
Another morning came and greeted Alex as he opened his eyes. Once more he was back in the lion’s den, and once again, his body had been made anew. This time, however, Mister Lion sat near the mouth of the cave and stared at Alex.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” said Alex, shaking his head as the lion approached. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
One giant pounce later, Alex was back in the feline’s jaws.
“I hope you choke on me,” Alex spat.