Mike was surprised to find himself alive, after what he believed was the extinction of his essence. However, here he was, whole, sitting on the bank of what first looked like a river bank, but was in fact a canal. He looked around him at the vegetation and immediately he knew where he was. He was back in Iraq, only there was something different about it…. something primitive. Nearby, he saw a clay hut of a type that was in use in some parts of the country when he was there. What it was missing was wires. The whole area had no wires, power lines or solar panels.
After being swallowed by a giant melting skeleton, this didn’t seem so strange to Mike. He actually didn’t feel like he was actually in Iraq anyway. He felt like he was in a middle ground, like a room shared by two houses.
Across the horizon he heard loud thundering. A storm seemed to be approaching. Mike was not dressed for it, but he wasn’t worried. If anything, he was excited. He felt as if the electricity in the air and the scent of rain bringing something new to him.
Mike watched expectantly as the clouds slowly drifted toward him, sheet lightning pulsing through them punctuated by rolls of thunder. Then small cloud up in front of the formation seemed to peel away from the rest.
This new cloud didn’t move in a uniform way. It zigzagged across the sky leaving flashes of lightning in its wake. Suddenly Mike did feel afraid of this unrestrained cloud. It was wild and free from the laws of physics or any other constraints.
As he watched the cloud move, he saw it was not alone. Always leading it were things… things Mike could not rightly describe. As they got closer, they started scaring Mike as well because of their utterly alien nature.He couldn’t put words to what he saw. They were a mixture of geometric shapes, animals, humans and other things Mike couldn’t put words to. All he could really sense definitely about them is they were staring at him, no matter where they went. Mike called them “the others”, because they were other than anything he had ever seen, heard, read or even thought about.
Mike was so overcome by the presence of the others, he lost his strength and fell backwards. Then he saw it. The entity.
The entity was either seated or standing on the cloud, Mike couldn’t tell definitely. It appeared human, but any sense of gender was not present. Its body was extraordinary, with blue and red all over it, moving in signs and geometric shapes. Its face, however was astonishing. It appeared to be the source of the lightning, which periodically discharged. Its eyes were exuding beams of light which were like spotlights when they hit the ground. Its alien nature and unrestrained power was frightening, but it was also beautiful to behold.
Somehow it seemed to be controlling the others, who controlled the direction of the cloud. They streaked across the sky with no apparent purpose except perhaps the joy of the race.
Mike was trying to think what this reminded him of. Then his mind went to Cam’s Storm Rider patch. This was the Rider on the Storm! Ordinarily Mike would have laughed at anyone who said that, and likely assume they were insane. It was after all a stitched character on a patch. But this wasn’t ordinary Mike. It all made sense to him.
As the cloud did circuits around the sky, it suddenly turned and started coming in Mike’s direction. Mike watched as the spotlight eyes raced across the ground.
As the rider came closer, winds started blowing all around Mike and rain sprayed everywhere. The violence of the squall knocked down adobe huts around him and flattened the reeds at the bank.
Mike closed his eyes until he could feel a very bright light shining on them. He opened them up. The rider was right over him staring down.
Mike could only look into that terrible, wonderful face, as he was completely immobile again. He was afraid, but the fear he felt was different than what he felt from Brother Ken’s transfiguration. He certainly expected he was about to die, but he was happy to die here, looking on such sublime beauty and ferocity.
The Rider was standing on what appeared to be a blue glass dome. It stared at Mike without any movement except for the bolts of lightning proceeding from its face and the movement of red and blue across its body.”
Mike felt an urge to fill the silence, or at least the lack of words: “Are you the rider on the storm?” He cried out, trying to be heard above the wind and rain.
The rider laughed riotously, shaking the ground, lightning flowing faster and faster out of his face into the surrounding space until the laughter receded.
Rider: “Yes, that is one of my names. Who told you about the rider on the storm?”
Mike felt the whole stressful ugly content of the last few weeks bubble out of his mouth voluntarily. Then he asked the Rider another question.
Mike: “What are you doing here? This is not your world.”
Rider: “This is not your world, and you are here. I came because you called me here.”
Mike: “I called you? I never knew your name until now.”
Rider: “I said that is just one of my names. You called, me and I came.”
Mike: “Then tell me what is it I have called you for?“
Rider: “For help of course.”
Mike: “What kind of help can you give me against men like Cam, who have no boundaries to what they can accomplish or what they will do?”
Rider: “Wisdom. Here is wisdom. They don’t own me. Cameron’s party doesn’t own me. They treat me like a magician’s rope, and use me to play tricks and fool people. One day they will find they are playing with a viper.”
“Nobody owns me. Nobody can capture and control me. Nobody can put a harness on me, and make me do their work. Nobody can cage me like a side show in a circus. I am wild and free and dangerous to those who trifle with me.”
Mike: “I would never think of trying to control you. Touching you is like touching the a live wire.”
Rider: “I know what you are saying is true. That is why I need you. I am sending you as a spy into their camp. You will not remember me until I come to you again. You will go into a valley, and then emerge. Then you will know that I have sent you.”
———————————————————-
Mike woke up in a warm surplus sleeping bag with Cam and Brother Ken looking over him for some reason.
Cam: “How you doing sport?
Mike: “I am doing great. Why are you both staring at me?“
Cam: “I don’t know if you remember, but you went to bed quite sick. We were pretty worried about you.”
Mike: “Well I am going now. Is that bacon I smell?”
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