Free Fire Wind by Guy S. Stanton III Page B

said, “Why a mirror reflection. We’re not
alone in our fight against this advanced enemy. Angels of God have
much the same way of moving about as our foe does.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “Nevermind.”
    “These angels are going to help us?”
    “Doubt it, but the enemy doesn’t know that.”
I said good humoredly.
    “I don’t understand!”
    “You will. Now help me get these mirrors
down. Time is wasting.”
    “What makes you think these beings aren’t
going to be onto us doing all this work at the mouth of the
canyon?”
    “Two reasons. Most of their activities seems
to occur at night and two I’d say they spend most of their day
mining the left over gold out of that defunct mine of yours.”
    “Really? You really think there could still
be gold!”
    “Yes, now less talk and more work.”
    *****
    Work went better than expected with almost
the whole town helping out and the upshot of it was that we now had
some time to kill. The sun wouldn’t set for at least another two
hours.
    Both Edgar and I had crept back to where we
had seen the alien vessel hovering in the narrow canyon. It had
still been there and that fact verified we had eased back from the
canyon rim to wait for sundown.
    In a low voice I asked, “Edgar when I first
got here there was something about me surviving that snakebite that
troubled you. What was it?”
    “Not troubled, intrigued is a better
word.”
    I decided to go all in and confessing softly
I said, “I’ve been led to believe recently that my origins lead to
places not from this world. Does that make any sense?”
    “It certainly does.” Edgar affirmed.
    I glanced at him and he explained, “As I told
you before that snake that bit you exists nowhere else other than
this immediate area. Do you know what an elephant is?”
    I nodded and he continued, “Well by my
nearest calculations of the potency of a single bite from that
snake I’d say even an elephant would succumb to a bite.”
    “You’re saying I’m not human?”
    “Not at all. There are plenty of venoms,
diseases, and you name it that generally always kill their victims,
but there are those few who survive. Those few survivors mate and
share their immunities with the next generation and then you see
immunity in the next generation after that. Given enough time
almost everyone comes to have immunity to something that once
killed almost everyone. Look at Europe for instance. The black
plague virtually wiped the population out, but those who survived
are now for the most part immune to it. My theory about these
snakes, especially now that I see all that’s happened in the past
few days, is that they came from somewhere else. I’m not referring
to somewhere else in the world either. It’s possible that ancestors
of yours came from the same place off world where these snakes
live, and thus had a built up immunity to the venom.”
    Shaking my head I said, “I know I was born in
the mountains of East Tennessee. As a boy my great grandfather was
yet alive. We were all born in the mountains, not some other
world.”
    “No doubt you were, which would explain
through the length of generations away from the exposure to the
venom of that snake why you almost died from it. The more time that
goes by the less resistance there seems to be to things not exposed
to in a long time.”
    I shook my head still finding it all hard to
believe, but the facts were what they were.
    “Your name is of great interest and I believe
a clue to the off world past your ancestors experienced.”
    Looking at him I asked, “Taran?”
    “No, your last name of Collins. Collins and
another name, that of Gibson, along with a half-dozen others form
an Appalachian bloodline of some note. Ever look at yourself in the
mirror Taran?”
    “Of course I have!”
    “Well then I bet you’ve noticed that while
you’re white enough to be thought of as European your features are
somewhat darker and more exotic than the typical individual of
European