The Postmodern Pilgrim's Progress by Kyle Mann & Joel Berry

Author:Kyle Mann & Joel Berry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Salem Books
Published: 2022-06-07T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Ryan finally remembered his sword. He reached for it, simultaneously realizing he’d never used a sword before—at least, not that he could recall.

In reality, he had used a sword three times: once in universe XB-433-U against a blob-like creature who had attacked his little brother, once in universe AA-627 in a duel for a fair maiden’s honor, and the third time in universe C-6H-2TU during a murderous rampage against a village of peaceful mechanical creatures. Well, that last time it was more of a laser stick-type weapon, but we’ll count that as a sword.

None of that experience would help him here. He didn’t remember any of it. I’m always amazed by how little information human brains can hold.

He gripped the elaborately bejeweled handle and pulled it from its scabbard. It was a beautiful weapon. Even with the chaos and the searing pain in his leg, he couldn’t help but notice the way the sunlight glinted off the edge. The crowd of zombies, however, didn’t seem to notice at all. They just kept coming, chanting and snarling and howling.

He closed his eyes and swung wildly, like a blindfolded kid trying to hit a piñata at a birthday party. So unimpressive. What does the Creator see in this guy, anyway? Whatever it is, He never told me. I couldn’t find any clues in the Archives either.

The sword swung harmlessly through the air with a whistle, again and again. And then, finally, and very much by luck, it connected with Redbeard’s neck.

Ryan opened one eye to see the carnage he had inflicted. But Redbeard was still there grinning his wicked grin. The beautiful sword had done nothing and was now shattered in sparkly pieces that littered the ground.

“Oh, come on!” Ryan shouted.

Two more zombies brandishing golden shears descended on Faith, as she frantically tried to crawl away. Ryan was pinned on his back, and his view of the sky was blotted out by a mass of writhing arms holding golden blades.

This is it, he thought as he closed his eyes and prepared for the death blow to come.

Wait!

Ryan’s eyes snapped open as he remembered the scroll given to him by Pastor back in Evangelion, to be used “in the hour of his most desperate need.”

Well, I think this qualifies, he thought as he reached for the scroll, pulled it out, and opened it.

No magical lightning or concussive blast emerged from the rolled-up paper to vanquish his enemies. No white light shot out to blind the assailants. Ryan wasn’t unreasonable to have expected this—there are many magical scrolls in many realities that possess such power. When I was new to my position (only three thousand years in), I opened one of these scrolls in the Archives and made a huge mess. The other Narrators and Storykeepers haven’t let me hear the end of it for eons.

This scroll was different. Ryan unrolled it and saw two words, written squarely in the middle of the parchment in red ink.

Walk forward.

Ryan cursed. In my hour of desperate need, huh? THANKS A LOT!

Ryan crumpled up the scroll and jammed it in his pocket.

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