Episode 1: At The End of The Tunnel

A steady pace was a luxury they could no longer afford. Roslyn leaned forward and hoped instinct would take over. That somehow, she would keep her balance.

“Stay loose.” She told herself. “Let Roger run.”

The thunder of Roger’s hooves was almost enough to drown out the sharp barks of the wolf pack that was coming closer than she cared to imagine. She let her horse’s mane whip her face, and listened as closely as she could to the frantic grunting of her horse.

They’d never run this fast for this long before. Adrenaline could only do so much. How long would it be before he gave out? Or maybe she would go first…

Roslyn felt so stupid for letting her romantic imagination get the better of her good judgment. She had gone riding alone, because no one else thought it was safe enough. She had laughed at their fear.

No cloud in the sky gave them any relief from the beating sun. Crossing a river wouldn’t help them lose the scent. The wolves were too close not to see them.

And now they were headed into a sheer wall of rock. But Roger kept racing forward. He was actually getting faster.

Roslyn had given up all hope of figuring this out for herself. She was trusting Roger to come up with an idea. As they sped closer, she saw what looked like cracks in the rock. Her stomach fell, and she struggled to keep whatever she’d eaten that morning from coming back up.

Roger had roamed these mountains years before Roslyn had adopted him. He knew exactly what he was doing… she hoped. She did her best to let her legs be the shock absorbers that kept her astride her horse. He lurched upward. It seemed impossible.

Roger took to the cliffside with confidence, and she almost relaxed. Then she looked down. They were at least 50 feet off the ground.

Roslyn was too scared to look, and too terrified to close her eyes. When the trail doubled back and Roger climbed higher, she could see the 3 out of 7 wolves who hadn’t given up yet. They were much slower now, but kept coming.

One wolf slowed to study Roslyn, and braced her paws on the rock to sniff the air. She leapt upward, climbing faster than her two other pack members. It was a difficult climb, but Roslyn could see her goal; She was trying to cut them off.

Roger snorted, and stamped his foot on the path, unsure how to proceed. Roslyn looked around, and the wolves clumsily made their way toward them. Roger sprang upward, with the agility of a mountain goat. Roslyn gasped, and held on to the saddle horn. First with her fingernails, then with her hands.

She didn’t know how high they were, and she didn’t care to guess. Roger finally reached a wider path along the cliff. Roslyn was equally horrified and relieved as he began to pick up speed.

Roger began to breathe harder, and harder, and slowed down to let out a mighty sneeze that shook his whole body… and Roslyn. He slowed to a bumpy trot that almost popped his rider out of the saddle.

The poor gelding was tired, and Roslyn felt she could ask no more of him. He’d been spectacular. She looked ahead at their three options: further up the path, into a cave, or over the cliff. The horse sighed, shook his head, and started to move toward the steep path before them.

Roslyn shook, but found the strength to guide her horse into the cave. It was louder than she’d expected. The echo of Roger’s footfalls, the eager snarling of the wolves that still pursued them, and the roar of rushing water were enough to make her want to crawl up in a ball and wait for the end.

Instead, she hung on to Roger. She kept the reins even, but gave him his head, hoping for him to deliver one last miracle. One of the wolves let out a triumphant bark, and Roger found a second wind.

Roslyn kept her body and head as low as she could. She could see nothing, and the blackness of the cave did not reassure her. The rush of the water grew louder, as did the scream building inside of her.

Any minute now, the rocky footing could become sharp or slippery, and send Roslyn flying toward nothing more promising than a broken neck.

She opened her eyes again, and saw something. It glowed brightly enough to give her a glimmer of hope. At the end of the tunnel, they might still die, but it was nice to know they had options!

She began to pant in time to her horse’s strides. A flood of water pushed its way up her nose, and she couldn’t do anything but choke. A wolf let out a yelp. This was it.

Roslyn jerked her whole body up with a start. She fell out of the saddle and onto a rock that dug its way into her back. Water and wind propelled it’s way out of her and she shoved onto her side.

It hurt so bad. More than she had felt in a long time. She coughed so hard it wracked her body, and she hit her head again.

She crawled her way up on all fours, and looked up. Something was definitely wrong. The sky was a very deliberate shade of violet. And the rocks, they looked like someone had spilled that quick hardening chocolate you pour over ice cream.

The dark grey rocks slowly faded away into a meadow where Roger began to graze. On white grass.

“No! Roger!” Her words came out a whisper, and she took a deep breath in spite of the pain. She could only cough as she started to amble his way.

He looked up at her, with a mouth full of grass. For a second, she hoped he’d drop it. It was probably poisonous, being that color. But Roger only blinked, shook his head, and went back to snatching as much as he could.

Roslyn groaned, and marched over to him. She threw herself onto his shoulder, and tugged at the reins. Roger snorted, and pulled against his bit to grab just one more mouthful. After a pathetic tug-o-war, he finally picked his head up in answer to her demands.

He munched his white grass happily. Roslyn pulled a few stalks of it out of his mouth. He tried to catch it before it fell to the ground. His lips reached for it, but he only caught air, making a popping sound.

“No!” She hissed into his ear. “It’s going to make you sick!”
Roslyn tugged at his reins to turn him back to the cave. The wolves must have gone by now. She looked for the opening, but saw only a bare hill of rock spilling down into the valley where they stood. Wherever they had come from, it was gone.

Her arms faltered as she did the only thing left to do; Get back in the saddle. She wanted to sit in the poisonous grass and cry. But she could weep just as well in the saddle.

She stared back at the impossible hill. Roger tried to fight his way back down to the grass. She turned him around, and urged him up the hill.

They had just gone farther than she realized. How long had she been knocked out, anyway? Roger wasn’t telling. She was so tired, and she knew a shortcut back to the trailhead. All she had to do was find where they had come out…

But all she could see from the hilltop were trees. At least, they looked like trees. The trunks were gray, and the leaves were yellow. That didn’t fit. It was still summer, wasn’t it?

Roslyn turned toward the trees, and saw something shine. Actually, it was more of a glimmer. Water! It looked kind of safe…

They reached the stream, and she let Roger take a drink while she watched for predators. Not that she would know what they looked like, in this world of purple skies and yellow leaves and… moving trees?

She blinked. It did move, didn’t it? It wasn’t the whole forest, just the one tree. Across the stream. It looked smaller, and a little different from the rest.
Roslyn gasped. It was a man!
He stared at her, and dropped to his knees.

“Oh, beauteous angel!” He cried. “At last! I am Xeno, Warrior Pilgrim. I am at your service.”

It was flattering, but her legs tensed as he splashed his way across the stream. Roger snorted, and pawed the ground. The man stopped.
“Are you angry with me, Angel?”
Again with the “Angel”!
“I’m not-” Roger sidestepped away from Xeno when he reached their side. She turned him in a circle and finished her thought. “I’m not angry, he’s just antsy.”

“He?” Xeno took a step back. He looked her up and down.
“If that offer still stands, would you help me down? My legs are numb.” She didn’t wait for his answer, but leaned toward him. He reached for her. It must have been out of habit, because as soon as she put her weight on him, he dropped her. Into the cold, gray mud.

Roslyn groaned. She didn’t waste any time in rinsing in the stream. When she cleared her face, she found Xeno, still staring at her.
“You’re… two beings.” He looked over at Roger, and back at her.
She blinked. Two beings? Had a nice ring to it, but…

“You thought we were one creature?” She knelt at the stream and wrung out her hair as much as she could.
“I did.” He chuckled. She hadn’t noticed when she was on Roger, but now that she was on the ground, she saw how tall her new friend was. Must have been at least 6’ 2”.

“That’s Roger, my noble steed.” She stood, and brushed the dirt from her knees. “I’m Roslyn.”
“Steed…” He repeated. Xeno wasn’t making brilliant conversation. He turned his attention back to her. “What more do you require, Angel Roslyn?”
“Ok, not an angel.” She made a chopping motion at her neck, and Xeno looked concerned. “I’m actually lost.”
“I’ll say.” He drew a knife from his belt and tapped her chin.

“Wow. 180.” Roslyn raised her hands, hoping he understood her surrender.
“I might have known. The pale skin is so obvious now, in the light. You should never have wandered out to the surface.”
“Surface? Are you talking about hell?”
“Is that what you below-dwellers call home?” He pressed the knife closer.

Roslyn heard a snort behind her. She ducked, and dove for the grass as Roger charged toward him.
“Call off your monster!” Xeno backed into the stream.
“You tried to kill me because of my pale skin!” She shouted at him. Xeno raised his knife toward Roger’s neck. Roslyn rushed forward.
“Don’t you DARE hurt him!”

She stood between them. She glared up at Xeno, and tried to look as menacing as possible.
“Do what you will with me, but nobody hurts my horse. Nobody.”
“You would sacrifice yourself for this thing?”

Is that what she’d said? That sounded a little extreme.

“He’s my responsibility. And right now, he’s all I’ve got. So you can put your knife away if you’re not wanting to get trampled.”

All she could hear was the stream, and Roger’s snorting and sneezing. He pawed at the water, and made it splash up on Roslyn’s face. It broke a little of the tension. Xeno narrowed his eyes, but put away his knife.

“Answer me this, stranger. Am I in Canada?”
“What’s Canada?” He scowled. He turned away and made his way to the opposite bank.
“It’s above Montana.”
“So you are from below.” He sounded angry, but eyed Roger warily.
“No! Montana is South, Canada is North!”
“I may be a pilgrim, but I have never heard of these places.” He reached behind a tree and pulled out a sack.
“Canada. You’ve never heard of Canada?” She scoffed. “Nearly half of it is in the arctic circle.”

He looked at her. His face was blank. He really didn’t know. How was that possible?

She had hoped that her eyes were broken. That the only reason she saw white grass and yellow leaves and a purple sky was because she’d hit her head. But now, dread began to turn her stomach.

“Where am I?”
“Nearest village is Acorn.”
“Well that doesn’t help. I’ve never heard of a village with a sky this color.” She pointed upward. Xeno shrugged.
“Same sky all over Venus.”

Roslyn’s legs gave out, and she fell down into the stream.

She came to when she felt hands hurriedly propping her up against a tree. She heard an angry snort, and then felt Roger’s nose inspecting her forehead. His warm breath left a chill behind that made her open her eyes. Xeno had parked himself in front of a nearby tree, and was watching her.

Roslyn was now very wet, and very uncomfortable. She must have bruised her hip on the rocks below the water. She coughed a bit, and cleared her throat.
“Did you say…”Venus’?”
“I did.” He nodded toward Roger. “He didn’t like me picking you up.”
“I’m… we’re from Earth.” She shook her head. What an introduction…
“Never traveled that far before.” He watched her closely.
“Neither have I.”
“No idea how you got here?”
“Last I knew, we were outrunning wolves.”
“Wolves?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Um… they, sometimes, eat things like Roger and me.”

Xeno sighed, and stood up. Roger pawed at the dirt. And sent some of it flying into Roslyn’s face. She swatted the air, and spat out what she could. She leaned on the saddle as she pulled herself up.

Roslyn took a deep breath and settled into the saddle. She glanced over at Xeno, who now wore a look of alarm on his face. She followed his gaze, and there on the hillside, stood at least 15 blue men. It would have been funny if they hadn’t let out a battle cry and began charging toward them. One unsettling voice in particular cried out,

“TRAITOR!”