by L. S. O'Dea
Glick sat up, shielding his eyes from the blaring light that filled the room. The others still slept. Their heads buried under leaves. His stomach grumbled, protesting its emptiness. He could slip down and eat a finger or toe. Nothing big, just something. Bumpers snorted in his sleep, as if aware of Glick’s thoughts. His friend would never forgive him if he stole food. He crawled toward the edge of the bush and found a leaf that was still moist from the water the Guards had sprayed. He tipped it to his mouth, hoping it’d assuage his hunger. It didn’t.
“Hey, wake up,” he whispered. “There’s something going on in the other cage.”
Bumpers sat up. “They sure are getting excited.”
The other Brush-Men were rhythmically clacking their teeth almost in a chant.
“Can you understand what they’re saying?” he asked.
Bumpers frowned. “The glass makes it hard to hear them, but when they all talk at the same time.” He shook his head. “It’s impossible.”
“The biggest ones are moving away from the glass,” whispered Flea who had her arms wrapped around her body to ward off the cold. “Why are they doing that?”
“They’re looking up and the others are following them to the center of the cage,” he said.
There was a loud grinding noise and the cage shook.
“What are they doing to us now?” Speckles crawled closer to the others, his eyes wide with fear.
“I don’t know that they’re doing anything to us.” Bumpers pulled Flea closer. “But I think they’re going to do something to them.”
“They don’t seem scared.” Glick leaned forward, trying to see why the other Brush-Men were staring at the ceiling.
“Well, they should be.” Speckles dropped onto his butt. “Everything the Guards and Almighys do to us is bad.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
Screams and protests ripped through the air, breaking the quietness of their cage. Glick jumped, falling forward and landing on a twig. It snapped under his weight. There was nothing between him and the ground except more dead branches. His arms flailed and his face hit the twigs but his leg got tangled on something, stopping his descent but leaving him hanging upside down.
“I keep telling you to be careful.” Bumpers had a hold of his foot and yanked him upward.
“Sorry.” It was humiliating how often Bumpers had to help him.
“What’s that?” Flea was pointing at the other cage.
Something was falling from the ceiling and by its screams it was alive. Another body fell and another. Their voices echoing throughout the chamber. There was a thud as the first creature hit the ground. The larger Brush-Men scattered for a moment before pouncing on their victim. That’s when the real screaming began. Glick licked his lips. The fear of the dying was calling to him, telling him to go and to kill.
“What are...were they?” asked Flea.
“I don’t know. The Brush-Men were on them so fast I couldn’t see,” said Glick.
There was blood everywhere and flesh. Lots and lots of juicy bits of flesh. Whatever they had been didn’t matter. They were now food. The larger Brush-Men hovered around the carcasses as the smaller ones darted around stealing whatever their bony, little hands could grab before racing away.
Glick swallowed his stomach rumbling.
“So much food,” whispered Flea.
There were pieces everywhere. If they were in there, they’d be able to snatch some. The smallest of the Brush-Men—who were still more than twice their size—weren’t even noticed as they hid between the feet of the larger ones, feeding on the scraps that fell to the ground.
“I’d stay by them.” Glick pointed to the two largest Brush-Men. “They drop more than they get in their mouths.”
“They also step on whatever’s in their path,” said Speckles.
“It’d be worth the risk.” He was so hungry he didn’t care about the danger. He just wanted food.
“They’re eating each other,” said Flea.
Small Brush-Men littered the ground where the giants had passed. Some of the others were scavenging their own dead, sticking arms and legs in their mouths as they ran away.
“Food’s food.” Speckles wiped the drool off his lips.
“Do you think there’s a way inside?” whispered Flea.
“There might be.” Bumpers was staring at the ceiling. “We’ll check the perimeter and up there.”
“How are we going to get up there?” There were no bushes even close to that tall.
“Not sure.” Bumpers turned to him and smiled, “But we’ll figure something out.”
He forced a grin. There was no way. No way at all.
CHAPTER 14: Glick
“Go away. I’m sleeping.” Glick slapped at the hand on his shoulder.
“The lights are off.” Bumpers shook him harder. “The Almighty and Guards just left. We have to go.”
“Where?” Glick sat up, blinking. He’d been having a wonderful dream. There’d been food, a lot of it, and he’d been face first in the flesh, filling his belly.
“We need to go to the other side of the cage.”
“But the water. The soil.” He held up his hand with the missing finger. He didn’t want to go anywhere but back to sleep.
“We’ll move from bush to bush.” Bumpers glanced at Flea who was still curled up sleeping. “We have to find food.”
“Okay.” Glick stood. Bumpers was right. They’d all starve if they didn’t find something soon. He dropped down to a lower branch.
“Not that way.” Bumpers moved upward through the foliage.
“Why are we going up?” Glick followed.
“You’ll see.” Bumpers continued climbing.
When they were at the top, Bumpers stopped. Glick stood next to him, staring out over the enclosure. It was vast—bigger than it looked from below. There was no movement, no green, nothing but dark dirt and dead plants.
“It’s going to take forever to build a trail to the other side.”
“We’re not building a path of leaves. We’re going to use the bushes.”
“They’re all dead.”
“Not those.” Bumpers grabbed Glick’s head and turned him. “The ones on the perimeter.”
“They don’t look much better than those.” Glick pointed to the ones in the center of the cage.
“Sure they do.”
“I’m not seeing it.”
“Look closer. There’s green on some of them. Not much, but even a little means they’re alive.”
Glick squinted. “Hmm. I don’t know.” The bushes still looked dead to him.
“We need to get inside that other enclosure. It’s our only chance.”
“It’s too far.” It was all the way on the other side and everything between here and there would kill them.
“We have to try.” Bumpers moved behind Glick, turning his friend so he couldn’t help but peer into the other enclosure. “Look at all that food.”
The other cage was over flowing with vegetation. There were flies and bees zipping about, begging to be caught and eaten.
“Why do you think we’re in here instead of there?” he asked.
“Don’t know. A mistake. Maybe, this cage was dying so the Almighty moved the other ones but didn’t know about the eggs.”
That kind of made sense, but...“Why did the Guards kill us?”
“Don’t know, but if we can find a way to get inside with the others we’ll be safe. Fed and safe.”
The Brush-Men moved about, catching bugs and picking at the remains of the carcasses from earlier today. They traveled in small groups but seemed to stay with those their own size.
“You really think we’d be safe in there?” He didn’t like the way the others looked at them.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”
“They look hungry.” He’d swear when he’d screamed they’d been searching for him to hunt, not to help.
“Yeah, but we’re their kind.”
“Rocky and the othe
rs were like us.”
“That was different. If Rocky and the others hadn’t died we wouldn’t have eaten them.”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing. Let’s go.”
“Fine, but we need to gather more leaves so we can get to the next bush. The other ones got washed away when they watered in here.”
“We’re not going to use the leaves. That’d take too long.”
“Then how are we getting over there?” By the grin on Bumpers’ face, he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“We fly.”
“Ah...We don’t have wings.”
“But we have legs.” Bumpers winked and jumped.
Glick clasped onto a branch as his friend flew toward the other bush. It was beautiful, mesmerizing and terrifying.
Bumpers hit a branch with a small thud, sliding down the wood before latching onto a leaf and stopping his descent. He flung his legs over a limb and stood, smiling. “Come on.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Jump or are you afraid?”
“I’m not afraid.” But he was. If he missed the bush, the landing would kill him and if it didn’t the ground would burn him until he disappeared like the tip of his finger.
“Okay. Go back and stay with Flea and Speckles.” Bumpers turned and climbed upward.
“Wait.” He could do this. He looked down. The ground was very far away.
“Don’t think. Just do it.” Bumpers had stopped and was watching him.
He nodded and jumped. He was weightless and flying—falling was more like it—but it felt like flying until he hit. The branches scratched his face and arms, his hands clasping for anything to stop his downward spiral. The wood was slick and slippery but on the third attempt he managed to keep hold. He lay panting on a thin branch. He wanted to go home but that’d mean at least one more jump. He could stay here. Live in this bush by himself. It wasn’t a bad bush.
“You okay?” shouted Bumpers from above.
“Yeah,” he mumbled against the branch.
“Then, come on. We get to do it again.”
“Yippee,” he muttered.
“I know. It’s awesome.” Bumpers scrambled toward the top of the bush.
Obviously, sarcasm was lost on the other Brush-Man.
By the time they’d finished their trip, Glick was enjoying himself, laughing and whooping as he jumped and flew around the enclosure. He’d realized that if he aimed for a branch, instead of the bush, he had an easier time stopping his fall.
Glick hid in the foliage on the plant closest to the other enclosure. “We should’ve been quieter.”
“Why?” asked Bumpers.
“They’re watching us.”
Several of the Brush-Men waited at the glass.
“Yeah. So?” Bumpers waved before making his way down the bush.
The Brush-Men clacked, “Here. Here.” Their words drew more to the window.
“I can hear them. Understand them.” He hurried after Bumpers.
“Yeah. Me too.” Bumpers stopped and waved again. “Hi. We were left over here. We’re trying to find a way inside with you.”
The Brush-Men kept chanting.
“Maybe, we should stay away from them.”
“We’re fine.” Bumpers smiled over his shoulder at Glick. “Trust me.”
“I do trust you.” Glick followed his friend farther down the bush. “Just not them.”
Bumpers laughed as the two of them dropped onto a small ledge that ran alongside the other cage.
Bumpers rested his hand on the glass. “Hi, I’m...”
One of the Brush-Men hit the window with such force that Bumpers staggered backward, his foot slipping off the edge. Glick grabbed Bumpers’ arm, yanking him upward as the Brush-Man hit the glass again and again.
“Ah, I think maybe we should go.” If that broke, they were dead.
“Hey, stop acting like that.” Bumpers tugged free from his hold. “We’re like you.”
The Brush-Man ignored him, continuing to hit the glass. Another one hurried forward and began slamming into the cage with his companion.
“Bumpers, we should go.” He tugged on his friend’s arm.
“Yeah. I guess. I don’t know why they’re acting like this.”
They headed to the bush. Today had been a complete waste. All he wanted was to go home and sleep.
“Wait.” Bumpers stopped, looking back at the glass where the Brush-Men were no longer attacking the cage, but still watched them.
“Why?”
“We still need to figure out if there’s a way inside.”
“You’re kidding.” His friend didn’t look like he was joking. “In there? With all of them?”
“Yeah. They probably didn’t recognize that we’re like them. They may think we’re intruders or something. We should’ve approached the smaller ones first. You know the ones that look more like us.” Bumpers walked toward the cage. “If you notice they do tend to stay grouped by sizes. We might’ve broken some rule about associating with the bigger ones.”
“Yeah, the rule of do that and they’re going to eat us.”
“They wouldn’t have eaten us.”
“You saw them.”
“They were upset. So, what?”
“Come on, Bumpers. They were eating the smaller ones during the feeding.”
“You know what? I don’t know. Are you happy? I admitted it. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know why we’re over here or why the Guards are trying to kill us.” Bumpers’ blinked back tears. “All I know is that we’re going to die if we don’t find food. Flea’s going to die.”
“Okay. Okay.” He hurried to his friend. “Let’s look and see if we can find a way to get inside the other cage. It doesn’t mean we have to go in right away.”
“Exactly.” Bumpers wiped at his eyes. “We just need to know if it’s an option.”
They stared at the other enclosure.
“Maybe, I startled them by touching the glass,” said Bumpers.
“Yeah, I guess.” He didn’t think they’d been scared at all–just hungry.
“If we figure out how to get in there, we stay with the smaller ones.”
“We’re smaller than all of them.”
“We just hatched. Some of them aren’t that much bigger than us.”
“If you consider twice our size not much.”
“We’ll grow.” He gave Glick a cocky smile. “Look. They’re wandering away. Come on and be quiet.”
They stayed low, searching every crack and crevice along the ledge. The only openings they found were little air vents.
“This is how we can hear them,” said Glick.
“Yeah.” Bumpers knelt by the opening.
“What are you doing?” He didn’t like this, not at all.
“Seeing if I fit.”
“I thought we were only checking it out.” He glanced around but no Brush-Men wandered toward them.
“I am. We need to know if we can get in this way.” Bumpers’ arms disappeared and the top of his head, but his shoulders were too big. He pulled out. “You try.”
“Me?” There was no way he was going inside that cage.
“Yeah.” Bumpers pointed. “There’s food.”
Glick tried not to look but his eyes followed Bumpers’ finger. There were small bits of flesh scattered on the ground. Tiny morsels of goodness that weren’t big enough for the larger Brush-Men to notice but it’d be a feast for them.
“Looks good, doesn’t it?” whispered Bumpers.
A Brush-Man looked their way before closing his eyes to go back to sleep.
“Stop talking.”
“They aren’t going to hurt us. As long as we stay with the ones our size.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” They hadn’t given him any reason to believe they were friendly.
“They’re our kind. They’ll accept us.”
“Okay. I’ll try, but be quiet. I’ll go inside, grab
some food and get out.”
He moved in front of Bumpers, slipping his arms through the vent. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.
“Keep going,” whispered Bumpers.
If he didn’t move, his friend would keep talking. He slid his head inside and wiggled, his feet scraping along the ledge.
“Let me help.” Bumpers lifted his legs. “You need to be at a better angle.”
Bumpers pushed, and he slid farther through the vent, before his shoulders stopped him. Bumpers leaned forward, causing the metal to scrape his skin.
“Stop. Pull me out.” His words were a harsh whisper but he was on the wrong side of the cage.
A Brush-Man took a step in his direction. Its vibrant green eyes searching the landscape.
“Don’t do anything,” he said so quietly it may have been a thought, but Bumpers’ hands on his legs didn’t move.
The Brush-Man turned and wandered away.
“Now. Pull me out now.” He wanted to scream but he kept his voice calm and quiet.
Bumpers yanked him back to their side of the cage. “Try going sideways.”
“I don’t want to do it again. You try.”
“I’m too big.” Bumpers gave him a little push. “They won’t even notice you. Get in. Get the food. Get out.”
He glared at his friend before sliding his right arm and right leg through the vent. He wiggled and shifted forward. He was going to make it. His stomach rumbled. They were going to eat—food, fresh and bloody. The opening was tight so he leaned to his side, letting gravity help. He was almost through, just another push, but his body stopped moving. He leaned farther sideways but nothing, not a smidge of movement. His head was too big.
“This isn’t going to work either.” He leaned the other way, but didn’t move. He jerked his head but it wouldn’t budge. He was stuck—really stuck. “Hey, help me.” His words came out louder than planned.
A pair of eyes opened in the enclosure, searching the darkness for the source of the sound.
“Bumpers,” he whispered. “Help me.” If the others came over, he was dead. He didn’t care what Bumpers thought. They’d kill him. Chew his body to bits.
“Stay calm.” Bumpers tugged on his arm and leg.
“Ouch.” His head scraped back and forth on the metal with each jerk. “Be careful.”
