10.01.1992; 16:52; in the wild:

A solid figure, possibly a man, dressed in a solid tracking jacket, which cap was covering his head, warm trousers and wore a large bag on his back, went up a stony path in the mountains, the sun shinning unusually hot for this time, especially since there still laid a lot of snow around and partly covered the path.

But this didn't matter for the man since he knew the path like the back of his hand even when he hadn't set a foot on it for years now... four years to be exact and he regretted no second of it.

The man stopped for a moment, breathing heavily and creating small clouds in front of his mouth through this. Finally he removed the cap, revealed his head and so proofed that he was indeed a man.

He wore short blond hair and had deep-grey eyes, just some folds around his eyes proofed of the life he had and an observer would have guessed him around thirty. All in all he had an ordinary appearance, neither looking ugly nor beautiful, but with the spark of determination in his eyes.

While looking around in the landscape he knew so well he dried his forehead of the pearls of sweat which covered it and which cooled down fast in the cold wind. It wasn't that the life in the civilisation had weakened his condition so badly, he believed that nothing could weaken the condition of someone who had grown up here.... a lot. Indeed it was his bag, or better its heavy contend which slowed him down.

By sensing the landscape he saw it, some trees cut down not long ago. They were well hidden in the undergrowth and someone who didn't search after it wouldn't have discovered it.

~like intended~

While the man thought this he went further, saw three small columns of smoke emerging from a point ahead and fastened his pace.

Such he arrived after some minutes at his destiny, the town.... well if someone could call it so. Indeed it were mainly some houses gathered around the church which top had been broken somewhen it its history. No house was as old as the church, which stood here since the very beginning of the 'town' but the man knew that they were constantly repaired as good as their inhabitants were capable of which was much considering the few tools they owned.

Directly in front of him was a large rock which made the original centre of the town. Once, such the legend said, there had been much of wood to strike a fire, but now there was just a small single bell, made in a time long ago, but still doing her duty by calling the inhabitants to an assembly or to the service....

Oh the man knew that there was the large bell of the church still stored up somewhere in the town, but the inhabitants had decided to not use it since it was too loud, attracted too much attention. like the high tower of the church itself once which was maybe one reason for that he didn't exist anymore.

The inhabitants....

The man knew that there were inhabitants here, as he knew that the earth was a ball. They were in the houses with with the partly boarded windows or in the church itself, looking on the stranger who dared to invade their place.

With determined steps the man ascended the rock, placed his hand on the tongue of the bell and started to ring it.

"HEY TOWN!" the man screamed "YOUR LOST SON IS BACK! JAMES DOWER IS HERE!"

James ended the ringing and looked around. Everything remained quite except for some crows or ravens who flew away from some near trees, complaining heavily for being disturbed such brutally.

Some long seconds there was nothing, but the sounds of pigs which were held by the town's inhabitants. Then, as James had foreseen it the door of the church, which had hung a bit outside, opened and revealed the man who had waited in it.

He was a man of sixty, maybe seventy, proofed through the garland of white hair. His clothes were complete black and proofed that he was indeed the preacher of this church... or what the inhabitants of this town called such.

Slowly even other people came out of the shadows of their houses, older man and women mainly, but even some of his own age and three children, a girl and two boys.

No one of them wore as fine clothes as the preacher did. Some clothes were clearly made in the civilisation, others were made of the coat of wild animals the people used to hunt and partly the clothes were a mix of both.

The lot of the crowd looked frowning on him, being not happy about his return, while there was one woman, already in her older years, who looked on him with eyes sparkling full of happiness, while the man beside her and around the same age looked on him with cold eyes.

James didn't look on the crowd directly, but waited until the preacher, who was at the same time the leader of his parish, began.

"It has been a long time James." the preacher said in his usually calm and cold tone "But you were always a slow learner. Good that you have come to senses."

James frowned. He hated this man! He had hated him from the time up when he was ten and had made an joke during his lessons in math by him which his comrades took for very funny. The teacher indeed did not and so James got a burning bottom for the rest of the evening.

Someone else might have called it the feelings of a child, but this feelings stayed when he had already forgotten which joke he had told and when it came to these events which led him to go away four years ago this hate broke out complete.

But this wasn't the time for old memories....

"I didn't come to let myself be ruled by you again." James replied "I just came back for a visit, nothing more."

The man eyed him cool.

"Pity." he replied. "But I hope you will see that this is your home and will ever be it, like you'll see that you were wrong."

James's angry eyes proved that he didn't thought so and while the eyes of the men stayed confronted, the other inhabitants of the town came nearer. Even when he was locked in this little combat James noticed them all.

The preacher's, whose name he had forgotten, son came nearer behind his father. He was at the same age as James and indeed they had been class-mates along with some others. His former friend's eyes were cold, but this didn't surprise James or even hurt him, who had been his friend died in this night years ago, now he was just the preacher's son.

The same he felt for the others around him, for his former town... well they called themselves clan sometimes, but it didn't matter.

"You may stay here as long as you wish." the preacher explained "As long as you hold the rules."

Without waiting for a reply or anything else, the preacher went back into his church, while his son stayed, looking on his once closest friend.

"Why have you come back?" He asked and his voice.... Michael's voice sounded a bit sad.

"Because I had to." James replied, with the same coldness in his voice as he had shown his former friend's father.

Michael looked on his former friend one moment longer, then he turned around, following his father back into the church.

~his fathers successor in every meaning of the word~ James thought cynically, looking after him, but then he somehow regretted this thought. Michael was what the life... this community had made him to.

James turned around to the rest of the community who had gathered around him. There were few of his generation, fewer children and no one who had been born after he had gone.

The children eyed him carefully but curious, most were too young to know him still and the one who did, didn't show any signs of happiness about seeing him, being held back by their parents who surely had told them nothing good about him.

The grown ups, including these of around his age, eyed him from cold to hostile and in their eyes stood one word:

'TRAITOR'

James was going to say something when a woman in front of him came near to him.

"You can sleep by us James." she explained warm-hearty.

James was going to neglect this since he had a tent in his rucksack and the woman's husband just looked on him with cold eyes, showing that he wouldn't welcome him, but when he saw the pleading in the eyes of the woman he gave in.

"Ok mother," he explained "I will go to your house."

With this he went down the rock to his mother who embraced her only son, not caring for what her neighbours or her husband thought.

"It is your home." she whispered to him "It doesn't matter what happens."

James returned the hug just slightly and then let off, looking for one moment in his mother's eyes and then nodded.

Such they went through the small crowd of people, going on a way leading to an house, not different from the other houses in the town and just so as it has been in James's memories all these year.... he couldn't overcome himself to call it home again.

On their way James noticed that his father stayed back, watching him with some other of the town's people.

It didn't surprise James, indeed it didn't.

"It hasn't changed." his mother explained, seemingly reading his thoughts. "And your room is like you have left it... mainly."

James nodded, he knew what the changes would be.

They entered the house and he felt it. The warmth of an old stove heated by a fire burning with wood, the smell of thousands familiar things overwhelmed him for one second and he remembered himself sitting before the stove, hearing stories with...

~no!~ he thought, fighting back the memories ~not now~

"Please lay down your rucksack." his mother pleaded "Your muscles must ache from it."

James nodded.

"I will lay it down in our..." he corrected himself "my old room."

His mother nodded, a slight print of pain in her eyes.

"We haven't changed anything." she explained, going slowly into the kitchen.

James sighed and went to the door which was as old as the house until the little half-moon on it, made by his father in a time long ago.

~she always loved it~ James thought, but then got his self-control back and opened the door.

His old room was frustrating clean, proofing both that his mother cleaned it from the dust and that no one had been here for long time.

~I thought they would have made an junk-room out of it~ he thought, taking down the rucksack and placing it before his bed, carefully for its content and trying not to look at the other, now ever empty bed on the other side of the room. ~dad would sure have done so, but mum prevented it~

James was thankful for it.

Some minutes late he came out of the room, seeing his mother working in the kitchen.

"I will make roasted goose." she explained "Your favourite."

Her son nodded thankful.

"Mom I have to go out..." he explained "Making a visit. I will be back soon."

His mother nodded, she knew where he went to.

Not looking back again James went out off the door, happy to see that no one was there to see him. Then he walked slowly along the way leading him into the woods closer to the large rock raising in the sky and which, according to the legends had a plain on it.

Finally he reached it, a field bordered by stonewalls which protected the cemetery of the wilderness around it. Slowly he walked in, heading to the place of the newest grave.

It wasn't a large grave and the one who read the letters on the wooden cross understood why.

MARIA DOWER

1979-1988

God decided in his unfathomable will to take her from us much too early.

When he read this it was as if someone had punched his kidneys.

~this damned bastards~ he thought, clenching his hands to fists and controlling himself not to scream out loud ~these goddamned hypocritical bastards~

If he ever needed one more reason to do what he had planned this was it.

James knelt in front of his sister's grave and looked around. This cemetery was as old as the town and he knew that somewhere there was the grave of 'the good Michael' how he was called by the town. He was the last one whose grave had been marked with a true gravestone and the one who was responsible for what had become out of the town... in the end he was the one responsible for James's sister's death and James hated him for this even when he had died so many years ago.

But it would end soon, it all....

10.01.1992; 20:52; the Dower's house:

He had come home late, but his mom told that this had been OK since she had needed time to prepare the meal. His father arrived shortly after they had set the table, soon because he had spoken with some of his friends of the town until then.

Now father and son starred at each other from the ends of the table with James's mother as damper in the middle while they ate the meal. Despite the fact that this dish had ever been his favourite and he had discovered that no one in the world outside could made it so good like it had tasted home, James couldn't relish in the taste, but felt his father's eyes lasting on him.

"Well son how is the world outside?" His father asked when he removed the last piece of flesh from of the goose's right leg on his plate. "Anything important?"

James looked up from his plate which was just half empty.

"Well the stock-exchanges go up, the budget deficits go up even so..." his eyes now started to sparkle sarcastically. "Oh yes the UDSSR has gone under, Germany is reunited and such the cold war is finally over, but this isn't really important here is it?"

The older man's eyes now grew completely cold.

"We know through Michael who did his job in the city." he explained "And through the radio we own."

He pointed with his finger on the radio standing on the shelves.

"Oh yes a radio you allow yourself to switch on just once a month in order to spare batteries." James replied sarcastically, reminding of his own portable TV he had on the top of his rucksack. "Should I be impressed father?"

James could see that his father struggled forcefully with himself to not stand up.

"You know this is all the town can allow itself from the work of its children." He said "But sometimes I think it was an error to allow you to go into the world outside they have poisoned you."

This on the other side was something James couldn't accept.

"You sent me down because you needed money for the few things the town allows itself!" he accused "Which isn't much thanks the poor skills we got taught here."

He eyed his father angrily and then continued.

"But now I have a good job and I worked hard for it." he explained. "Maybe I could care for that everyone in the town can get jobs, too."

"You know that this is against the rules." his father explained icily "There would be too many questions of the outsiders and here has to be someone who fulfils the duty."

James laughed bitterly.

"You haven't changed, have you father?" he asked, just to continue. "You still believe what the preacher tells you."

This let his father stand up, glaring on him about the table.

"It is what you have believed before you became a traitor," the father replied angrily "and it was what your sister believed in."

"My sister would have believed everything you told her because she loved you." James answered "But you betrayed her, you and the whole town."

His father's face became completely red and he felt as if he had been hit by his son.

Meanwhile James's mother just looked on her both men who looked on each other with hate and tried to suppress her tears. Sure she could go between them and maybe could stop them, but she had some knowledge in medicine and knew that sometimes it was better to pull out a thorn at once than to wait until the wound festered and this had festered too long.

She wanted them to be a family again so it had to be. Just this pulling out hurt so much....

"We did what we had to do." James's father defended himself. "There was no other way."

"THERE WAS ANOTHER WAY!!!" James's screamed on him, not noticing the little tear in his left eye. "We could have brought her to a doctor, a real doctor with medicine and everything which would have been needed to save her life. It was just an appendicitis goddamned."

"When we knew that it wouldn't become better it was already too late for this." his father replied "Bringing her down would have been too much for her."

"Then we should have asked for an doctor to come here like I asked you and the town to do." James said "They would have sent a goddamned helicopter for this."

"The town has decided against this." his father told him. "We can't risk to let this town and his mission let be known in the world outside. We have a holy duty...."

"Don't come me with this." James warned him "Just don't come me with this."

His father's eyes became dark.

"We have the duty to guard this place since 300 years given from our ancestors." he cited "When the angel of god had imprisoned the demon into the rock out there in the wood she gave us the holy mission to guard it because else it would destroy the world."

"This is just a tale!" James noticed "A story in which just children would believe in. There are no angels in the world nor are demons, dragons or fays or anything like this and all what is here is a family who likes to hold us in fear, to control us."

"The angel gave Michael and his family the order to guard the demon's prison." the father explained "Such he became the leader of the town, like his descendant's have been ever since and like Michael will once."

"All lies." James replied "Made to hold you here. There is no proof neither will there ever be one."

He breathed heavily by looking on his father.

"You let her die for a lie."

This was enough for James's father and he stood up, wanting to teach his son a lesson. But James's mother stopped him on half of the way.

"Abe, James this is enough." she pleaded.

"No he has gone too far Martha." James's father screamed angrily.


"James please go to your room." James mother asked him and he followed this especially since the request had many similarities with an order, but he gave his father a last look of contempt.

He went to his room and closed the door behind himself with a bang, standing now behind it and looking around while he breathed heavily. On the other side of the door he could hear his parents arguing and his father played the role of accuser, asking why they allowed him to be here and how he had dared to speak so while his mother calmly, but more and more successful tried to calm him down.

His father wouldn't beat his mother, he never had and never would, no matter how angry he was. He even so hadn't beaten James or his sister once and James knew that his father was a good man, which made all this even worse.

Slowly James put out his solid boots and laid himself on his old bed as if it was the most natural in the world.

His mind wandered.

~the whole town is somehow related and they know it~ he remembered ~soon the genetic basis will be too small and then?~

A part of him shuddered by this.

~I will end this~ he thought ~I will goddamned end this and maybe then...~

It knocked at the door.

"It is open." he replied, but this was futil since the door had no lock.

His mother came in, looking on him worriedly.

"I have calmed your father down." she explained a bit sad "But please stop of attacking him so."

James looked on his mother with hard eyes, then he nodded.

His mother sighed and turned around back to the door, but stopped then.

"Its hurt him more than you might imagine." she explained slowly and sadly. "Us both, please don't judge him for what you see. He is in pain every time someone calls her name."

James sat up on the bed.

"I know he is." James noticed "But I even so know that he is still believing the preacher and that he would act so again, this is what I can't forgive him."

His mother looked on her son with tears in his eyes.

"Maybe one time you can James," she answered "maybe one time."

With this his mother went out of the door and closed it behind herself, leaving her son alone with his thoughts.

After some time and after he was sure that his father wouldn't come in anymore, James stood up and grabbed his rucksack. He opened it and took the thing off it which he had packed in at last.

It was a mobile TV, one of the newest sort and small like no one before but still heavy. James smiled when he thought about how Maria would have loved it. When he had been down in the civilisation every day without him had hurt her like his mother had told him afterwards, but when he had come back, telling her stories about all the wonders of civilisation and giving her the cloak as present her joy couldn't have been greater like his.

By thinking on this James looked on the empty bed on the other side of the room and the smile which had sneaked on his face vanished at once.

If he had ever needed one more reason to act just in this night he had it now.

Following an intuition he laid the mobile TV on the ever-empty bed of his sister, removed the mobile tent and the sleeping bag from his rucksack and took him on after he had taken his coat.

Slowly he crept out of the window, into the woods, to his destiny.

When he passed the first trees he wondered how easy it was for him to remember the path after these years. He and Michael had been young when they decided to go to the place the grownups called the prison of the demon, which they believed completely in.

An act of youthful resistance against the world they knew and sometimes James asked himself how Michael thought about it now. Back then for James it was just a rocky plain in the woods, not nearly so impressive as what was near the town.

It had been low enough for them to climb on it and James had done so while Michael stayed back. On it James had seen nothing or horrible, but after a time Michael, who had become slightly white in his face, had asked him to let them go away, something James had finally agreed in even when he had teased him later for this.

Deep down James had felt it, too, like a shadow on his heart and in this night he had woken up from his sleep through a nightmare he later couldn't remember anymore what it had been.

~but I'm no child anymore~ James thought, now being already near enough to the plain to see it. ~and I have to do what is necessary to free the town of its 'holy mission'~

Finally he reached the rock and allowed himself to just breath some moments, creating small clouds of steam. Sure the rucksack was easier now, but through the darkness he had had to watch the ground for roots since he couldn't simply use his torch because someone in the town would have noticed this maybe and no one there would have been happy about what he planned.

Finally he placed the rucksack on the ground, opened it and removed a small blanket just to reveal the main content of it... many pounds of TNT.