Chapter 7: The Lives and Deaths of Jake Chambers
But sleep did come for Cortana, as much as she wished against it, and as hard she fought to keep awake. Icy hands pressed down on her eyelids, not gentle, but hard and unsympathetic. This was not normal sleep, this she knew; it was coming on against her too rough and forceful to be normal. Something or someone wanted her to sleep. At first she thought she was going todash as well, and fought even harder at the thought. No I need to stay here, keep watch for him, her mind yelled.
(No not todash) the voices whispered to her.
Then what? What is this? she asked them.
(Ask the man in black. He knows. He has something to show you.) That was the last thing she heard before sleep finally conquered her. That and the sound of the bells.
…
She was in New York 1977, as John and the others had been, standing on the street corner. The woman saw a young boy walking through the crowd skillfully and immediately recognized him. Jake, she thought. He was different then how she knew him in mid-world; cleaner, younger, and better fed. The look on his face wasn't quite happiness, but rather simple contentment. Then she saw the other man. He was wearing dark clothes and a cross around his neck, and under that the collar of a priest. The darkly dressed man was moving swiftly towards Jake and the woman tried to call out a warning, but it was too late. The boy was pushed forcefully out onto the street. A speeding car struck Jake's side and she saw blood come out of his mouth. He landed on the hard asphalt.
A crowd gathered around the boy and the dark man pushed easily through them. "Stand back I'm a priest, he needs his last rites" he said and knelt down by Jake's dying body. To everyone else standing there the dark man's face had a look of concern, but to Cortana she saw the hint of amusement. The non-priest, for how could a man like this ever consider himself to be holy; The Covenant did, she thought; began to mumble words Cortana couldn't hear. The boy turned his head away from the dark man's face, and his eyes glazed over.
…
I'm back, she thought, I'm back at the way station. The old worn wood buildings and hard pan desert floor were exactly as they had been when Cortana had last been there, with two notable and very important exceptions. The gunslinger was there, Roland, with both blue steeled revolvers strapped to his hips, water skins and the Horn of Gilead hanging from straps draped over his shoulders, his right hand still had all its fingers. Jake was there as well, his lips cracked from dehydration, his thin frame showing the obvious signs of malnourishment.
He must have been here for days, she thought, waiting for what? For him?
"You're not going to just leave me here are you?" Jake asked the gunslinger.
"No, I'm not," Roland replied.
…
When she first saw the darkness, Cortana thought she was in the space between dreams and the waking world, and sighed a little in relief. Then she noticed the feeling of dampness and hard rock on her bare feet. A sliver of light from the cave's exit (not a cave, you are under the mountains) caught her eye, and there standing in the light was the man in black.
"Hile gunslinger," he said. Roland's hand was a blur as he brought his revolver up and fired, the small explosion of gunpowder that spilled forth from the long gun briefly illuminating the underground like a flash of lighting. His other hand was holding on to Jake who was dangling over the edge of a broken bridge. "You can save the boy or catch me gunslinger, but you cannot do both," and with that the man in black left them.
Cortana knew what was about to happen, Jake had told her so in the vision. She ran, ignoring the sharp rocks stabbing at her feet. She reached out for the boy's arm but her hand passed right through. The gunslinger and Jake were looking at each other.
"Go then, there are other worlds than these," Jake said, but there was no anger in his voice, not even resentment, just sad resignation. Roland let him drop into the abyss.
…
The brightness of the classroom lights nearly blinded her, and Cortana had to blink hard for her vision to come back to normal. Sitting at a desk in the middle of the classroom was a very much alive Jake Chambers. His head was in both hands, and his eyes were unfocused. A child sitting next to him tried to get his attention, calling out his name several times before finally giving up. Jake had died, gone to mid-world where he died again, and now was alive again sitting in English class. His mind was beginning to break under the strain.
And who wouldn't, Cortana thought, who wouldn't break under that kind of stress? She walked over to him, and although she knew she could not touch Jake, Cortana let her hand hover above his head. She looked at his desk and saw that there was an essay that the boy had written sitting there. The title read
My Understanding of the Truth By: John Chambers.
John, she thought, John!
She quickly looked back at the boy's face, although she knew already what it looked like, and had to crane her neck a little in order to see it. He looked almost completely different from the John she knew. His hair was blonde not brown, he lacked the freckles and gap between his teeth that John 117 had when he was a child, and he was nearly twice age John had been when he was kidnapped by Dr. Halsey to become part of the Spartan II program.
Yet, she had met a man very similar to her John in mid-world. A man named Roland who, although physically very different, had the same eyes, same posture and even a similar personality. Now Cortana had found that he also had what could only be described as an adopted son, who was named John also. She continued to read the essay. There were two quotes below the title, one by T.S. Eliot and another by Robert Browning. She ignored those though and read the first two lines.
The gunslinger is the truth
Roland is the truth
She continued to read but the rest was complete gibberish. A pretentious writer or English teacher might be impressed by this incoherent stream of consciousness. Anybody else would try to have him committed. Cortana continued to read and her eyes caught a few lines in the middle of the paper.
I want to go back and that is the truth
I have to go back and that is the truth
I'll go crazy if I don't go back and that is the truth
Her hand that had been hovering over his head went to his cheek. His eyes were still looking off into some faraway place. "I will take care of you; I will take care of you both. I won't let you die again," she whispered to him.
…
The cracked and dry wood in the house was eerily similar to that of the way station. Jake was there and he was running for his life. A shiver of fear ran up Cortana's spine and she ran with him. Looking behind her shoulder the first thought she had was that the flood was following them. This creature was different though, it was made of wood, and the beams of the house itself seemed to be gathering together to form the creatures body. Jake ran through the house, weaving in and out of the narrow corridors before finally finding a door, a door that was very similar to the one she found at the way station. He opened it and a rough hand grabbed his shoulder pulling him through back into mid-world.
For a moment she saw Roland, arms wrapped around Jake. If she didn't know any better she would have said that he was crying, small crystal balls of tears forming in the corners of his eyes. The door slammed in her face, and Cortana turned around. The creature (The Doorkeeper) looked at her, it could see her. It let out a roar, the voice being formed by wood scraping and splintering against each other. The creature pounced.
…
The Spartan opened his eyes and felt a light pressure on his arm. Cortana was leaning against him, her arm wrapped around his middle. John sighed. He didn't blame her for not being able to stay awake all night, she wasn't trained to do that, and he guessed that she had already pushed her new body far beyond its limits already. If anything he blamed himself for not waking up to let her sleep. One of us should always be keeping watch, he thought, especially with these people. Gently he lifted up her arm and laid her body on the ground. Cortana shivered slightly at the touch of his cold armor, but remained asleep. It was early morning and the sun was still a soft pink, hovering just above the horizon. Roland was already awake and walked over to the Spartan, his boots making a soft thud on the ground.
"We need to palaver about what you, Jake, and Eddie saw last night," he said. He rolled a cigarette as he said this. He struck a match to light it and the fire briefly lit up his otherwise emotionless features.
"You know about the dream?" John asked as he stood up and put his body between the gunslinger and Cortana.
"It was hard not to miss, she saw it as well," he then looked at the others who were still sleeping. "I'll wake them up. We must finish our palaver quickly. I have a feeling that the others will be coming to talk with us soon."
"And why should we talk at all with you?" John asked.
The gunslinger glanced back at him and their light blue eyes found one another. "Because if you went todash like I suspect, then it probably has something to do with The Dark Tower. If you are looking for it too, then you would listen to what we have to say."
