Mountains of Dreams

by Bevill, C. L.

  These things, these new animals, seemed to be drawn to us, like moths to the…

  “Put out the lights,” I said. It was almost a question.

  “But it’ll be dark,” someone protested.

  “Put out the lights now!” I yelled. Then I turned for the head of the cabin, fully intent on going outside. Stephen had frozen in place as he had seen what was clinging to the windows.

  Other people were blowing out the candles in the hurricane lamps. Clora looked around and then grabbed a bottle of water to pour on the fire pit.

  My hand was on the door handle when something hit me like a ton of bricks. I went to the ground with a loud grunt. Landers had yanked me away from the door and fell on my body. “You can’t go out there!” he roared. “You’ll let those things inside!”

  He jerked abruptly and said a string of foul curses. I saw firefly pixies zooming away and heard their triumphant shrieks. Spring and some of the girls had pierced various parts of his flesh with their toothpicks. “What the hell?” he cried.

  “Get off me!” I commanded. I pushed at his body, but he outweighed me by fifty pounds. “Get off me!”

  Stephen pulled at Landers’ arm, saying, “Landers, you can’t—”

  Then Lulu was there. The cabin behind her was getting darker as each lamp went out. The fire was hissing with the onslaught of water. The glass in one window cracked as the thing worked on it, intent on it or possibly us.

  The KA-BAR pressed into Landers’ throat. “Get off her,” Lulu said with an icy voice. “Mine is a lot bigger than the pixies’.”

  Landers reluctantly rolled off me. He stared at me as he climbed to his feet and then at Lulu. “You’re gonna get us all killed,” he muttered.

  I jumped up even while my hand reached for the door handle again.

  “What in God’s name are you doing?” Stephen asked frantically. “Landers is right. You can’t go out there. They’ll get in the moment you open the door. It’s like a swarm of mega-sized bugs, and they’re obviously looking for something to eat…like us.”

  I gently pushed Stephen out of the way. “You should stop reading the horror books,” I advised and quickly opened the door. I went out into the area between the cars. The firefly pixies flooded out at the same time, and I had to shove against the door to keep Stephen from slamming it on some of the girls. Lulu slid under Stephen’s arm, following me closely, and only paused to shoot the man a derisive glance.

  The screeching of irate animals was nearly deafening. My eyes adjusted to starlight as I stood there. I went to the steps and peeked out. The moth-like creatures were falling away from the windows of the cars and returning to their anxious flights. I could see that some of them were attracted to the lights on the engine and hoped that Craig had taken shelter.

  The swoosh and whoosh of flying creatures sounded like jets careening past us. Starlight began to disappear as I realized there was a cloud of these things converging on the train. The screeching took on an outraged intensity.

  I stepped out onto the open part of the stairs, and the moths dive-bombed me. The firefly pixies screamed their disapproval and blocked the most determined individuals.

  Lulu said, “You going out into that?”

  “You can stay here,” I said. “They only eat liquids and blood isn’t their preferred drink.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “That’s what they said,” I muttered.

  “They said?” Lulu repeated. “You can understand them? Like the pixies? Like the Big Mamas?”

  I shrugged.

  I jumped from the stairs to the ground, and the dark-cloaked shapes whirled around me, brushing against my flesh, leaving a dusty residue. The screeching was confused now. They didn’t know what to do. They thought they should attack me, but the firefly pixies muddled them. The girls were like them except smaller. I should have said that the pixies liked to eat butterflies and moths, but I didn’t think the giant moths would enjoy hearing that. Furthermore, I thought that the pixies wouldn’t be interested in trying to take down something that much larger than they were.

  Taking a deep breath, I centered myself. I stumbled down the side of the tracks, kicking aside the rocks that lined the railway’s sides. Then I waded into dry, deep grass, holding my arms out wide, showing that I didn’t have a weapon there. The firefly pixies continued to circle me. Spring sang a constant song, “Protect Soophee! Keep the large ones away from her! Together, sisters!” She was like a miniature general commanding her troops. She didn’t even try to make me stop, as if she knew what I intended, and she probably did.

  Behind me I could see the black shape of the train, and through the closed windows, I could see the faces pressed to the glass, watching me with mouths spread wide. Lulu stood on the train platform, her KA-BAR in one hand, watching me, too. My other protector, although I didn’t understand why.

  When I thought I was far away from the great metal intruder, I began to screech, too.

  Chapter 9

  The Best Laid Schemes o’ Mice an’

  Men an’ Monsters an’ Moths…

  Explaining wasn’t the part that I enjoyed. The people on the train had seen it for themselves. Although they didn’t understand what I said to the giant moths or what was said to me, they did understand that I could communicate with the new animals. They had heard of those with special connections to new creatures. Hanley was an example. I was another with the firefly pixies. I could have told them of a third, the Burned Man with the turtle/spiders, but it was enough to just talk about the giant moths. Besides which, the Burned Man wasn’t my favorite topic.

  “You can light the fire pit again if you want to, Clora,” I told the red-haired woman once I came through the train door. She stared at me and didn’t move. The shadows pretty much covered everyone’s expressions but hers was directly in a patch of starlight pouring through a window. Wide eyed and amazed and slightly suspicious all rolled up into one expressive look.

  “What just happened?” Craig asked. As soon as the giant moths had moved away, he came back from the engine and checked our status. His gray hair stood up in spikes, and he kept nervously running a hand through it. Giant black-gummed moth things had unnerved him just as they had everyone else. And who could blame him?

  I took a deep breath before answering. I was inclined to make the short answer, but there didn’t seem to be one readily available. “We went through their territory and woke them up from their deep sleep. Emphasis on deep. They thought the train was a monster intent on taking what was theirs. They attacked us, well, it mostly. I told them we had made a mistake and would ask permission before going through their area again.”

  While I was speaking, Lulu lit a candle and put it in a hurricane lamp. Several people winced. She deliberately lit another one. In a few minutes all the remaining lamps were lit.

  I pulled out my Rand McNally from my pack and then fumbled for a pencil. “I can’t be sure,” I said as I thumbed to Nebraska, “but I think they control a rough circle of area from Ashland to,” I peered closer at the map, “I think about Papillion, which is ironic since that means butterfly in French. It was a little hard to guess based on their measurements. They go by multiples of two in wing spans.” I put the map on the base of a seat and drew a little circle around the area. Then I made a note in the margin. “They’re hibernating now, and they are grumpy when they’re woken up. Really grumpy. I said we would plant more flowers along the sides of the train tracks through their section. Also, we will never ever steal their cocoons. They consider that very bad manners.” There was more because the giant moths liked to talk. Furthermore, they couldn’t get enough of talking to something they had never seen before, and they had endless questions about the “metal monster that makes black smoke.” I didn’t really want to add all the minutiae about them asking why my hair wasn’t dusty and what had happened to my wings and why did the two-legged things ride in the belly of a beast with the nearly impenetrable flesh. So I trailed off.<
br />
  My silence was met with silence. It was very silence-y.

  “And they won’t bother us unless we bother them,” I finished awkwardly. “There’s about a million of them. But they migrate in the early summer. I couldn’t tell for sure because they don’t know English names, but I think they’re going to the Florida Keys. It might have been Cuba. Definitely an island somewhere with a lot of flowers.”

  Spring landed on the map and tapped her little foot, looking meaningfully at Landers.

  “And if you touch me again, Landers, Spring says she’ll wait until you’re asleep and cut off your man parts.”

  Landers choked.

  I shrugged. “That’s a pretty direct translation. She also said that men should play kid games in the water with the fledglings, but she’s really thinking of the male firefly pixies.”

  “You really understood what those moth things said?” Clora asked hesitantly.

  I nodded. Great, now I was not just a freak who didn’t like to talk to most people, but I was a super freak who went all retro Beastmaster. Things were looking up.

  Hetta said, “And you…ah…negotiated our passing?”

  I nodded again.

  “But we came through here before,” Craig interjected.

  “Probably during the brightest part of day,” I said. “They’re nocturnal and full daylight bugs them.” I paused with a grimace. “No pun intended. Remember, flowers through here. I’m thinking we can raid nurseries for those wildflower seeds on the way back through here.”

  Craig nodded slowly. “We can do that. Maybe not come through here at night either.”

  “You’ll have to ask the moths first,” I reiterated. “This is their land now, and they ain’t gonna take a string of beads for it.”

  Lulu snickered.

  “How do we ask for permission?” Stephen asked curiously.

  “I told them we would walk in waving a flag with a moth on it,” I said. It was lame, but it wasn’t like we could fire up the Bat-Signal.

  “I’m tired.” I gathered up my stuff. I had been going to take a turn shoveling coal into the firebox of the steam train engine, but I felt a little wrung out from my encounter with giant flying insects with a mouth and choppers that looked like they could give Dracula a run for his money. “I’m sleeping in the grass. The moths will get all agitated if anything else comes by. Be careful where you pee because they won’t like it if you urinate on one of their nests.”

  “What does the nest look like?” someone asked tentatively.

  “Like a very large bird nest. You’ll see them in the morning. They kind of look like big lumps of hay.” I sighed again. “That’s how you missed them the first time. You probably thought they were big lumps of hay. Give a yell when it’s my turn with the firebox.”

  I went back through the door and got off the train. The firefly pixies swarmed around me as I moved. I heard the people inside talking as I made my way to the tall dead grass. It would be warmer here than on the train. The people on the train wouldn’t let the fire in the portable pit go all night, and the girls needed to do some hunting. A minute later, Lulu followed me with her sleeping bag.

  She said, “Nice job.” I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

  “Maybe I should have let the moths have Landers,” I said as I took off my boots and stuck my cold feet inside the sleeping bag. It was a mummy bag, and in about five minutes I was going to be nicely warm inside it. The only thing that would have been better was if Zach was in the bag with me. I frowned.

  “That would have probably pissed the moths off,” Lulu commented. She tugged her boots off and slid inside her bag. “This is almost as good as the last bed we were in.”

  “You trust those people?” I asked almost a minute later. The hole in the mummy bag hadn’t been tightened yet, and I was watching firefly pixies cavorting in the skies. Their green luminescence made trails of light that danced and made intricate patterns.

  The giant moths had settled back into their nests, finally content to leave us and the metal monster alone. The train had really ticked them off. They didn’t know what to make of it. They still didn’t.

  The Japanese broadsword was at my side, inside the bag with me. It wasn’t the best place for it, but my hand rested on the handle.

  “They’re not…untrustworthy,” Lulu said.

  I snorted. “When did you get so P.C.?”

  “I grew up,” Lulu said shortly.

  This from the woman who had once called Zach “broodylicious.” (Zach was broodylicious, but that was beside the point.)

  “What’s Landers’ damage?” I muttered. I was aware that the chatter had died down from inside the train. The engine had settled to a steady rumble that I hoped wouldn’t bother the giant moths. I had told them that we had to stay the night and that the train wasn’t alive. I promised that the train wouldn’t hurt their kind on purpose. Then I’d thrown in that I would sleep outside with the moths as a sign of trust.

  I suppose I should have told Lulu that the moths were watching us. We were political prisoners for the night, but I didn’t want to alarm the blonde.

  Of course, I fell asleep hoping that I would get a little broodylicious dream action that night, but it was nothing but nightmares about the Burned Man. Bansi from Sunshine, Colorado popped in there a few times, seeming very philosophical and vaguely threatening, but overall staring at me intently.

  Yuck.

  * * *

  I occasionally heard a sign of the giant moths during the night. The whoosh of wings crossing over our sleeping bags and over the train alerted me, but I didn’t really care, and I went back to sleep without problem. Spring poked me in the side of the neck as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Alarm clock, pixie style. (No batteries required.)

  It was a cold day, and I wasn’t even sure what month it was. I stayed in the bag until my bladder screamed at me. Reluctantly, I got out of the bag and put my boots and coat back on. I found a place far away from the moths’ nests to do what I needed to do and went back to pack up.

  Surprisingly, I didn’t react when I realized that Landers was standing on one of the train platforms between the cars watching me as I walked back. I wondered if he had communicated the previous night’s events with whomever he was “speaking” with in D.C. Maybe he had a line into the President’s head. Write that into the new Constitution, buddy.

  I pretended like I didn’t know Landers was watching me. He pretended like he didn’t know that I knew he was watching me. It was very civilized. I hoped he had bruises from tackling me.

  We were in Omaha before the sun got a quarter up in the sky. The obstacle there was a little mountain range that had cropped the city in half. It had jagged points that were taller than the tallest buildings had been. There were large birds circling the peaks. (They weren’t really birds, but we didn’t get close enough to tell what they really were.) It could have been a scene out of The Lord of the Rings except the rest of the city seemed fairly normal.

  A crew of five people met us at an industrial area, where the steam train was powered down. Craig and Stephen laughed with the crew as they caught up. I caught Craig glancing at me while talking to one of the older men on that crew. Then the older man looked at me. More talky-talk. Look. Talk. Peek. Look again. I would have checked to see if toilet paper was trailing out of the back of my jeans, but I knew it wasn’t.

  Either I was being über sensitive, or I was the subject of conversation.

  We hiked around the mountains for hours, and I suddenly realized something new when we stopped for a break.

  Clora took her coat off and waved it around because she was sweaty. Her shirt was fairly tight across her stomach, and it took me about thirty seconds to comprehend that she was pregnant. She wasn’t a little pregnant. She was a lot pregnant. Perhaps four or five months pregnant. She had been pregnant before the change. I hadn’t noticed before because she had been wearing the heavy coat, or possibly, I hadn’t noticed because
I tended to be oblivious about certain aspects of life.

  I approached Stephen. “Is there a doctor in D.C.?”

  Stephen smiled at me. He liked the whole talk-to-the-animals thing. He was totally down with it. I think he thought I could deal with anything that came down the pike at us. I had mentioned that I couldn’t talk to everything. Furthermore, not everything wanted to talk with me. But I don’t think that registered with him. “Yep. We have two. One is a G.P. The other one’s a ‘gist. A something-gist. I forgot. He specialized in something or other. He’s rethought his specialty now, of course.”

  “What about Clora?”

  “What about— oh.” Stephen glanced at Clora. “She says she’s pretty healthy. She takes those vitamins for pregnant women. But you know, she was taking turns at feeding the firebox, too. We limited her to ten minute shifts. Conditionally.” He looked at me. “I didn’t want her to have a miscarriage or something because she’s stubborn and wants to pull her weight.” He winked at me. “Kind of like you.”

  I knew of one other pregnancy. Calida, back in California, had become a couple with Ethan, the man who was knowledgeable of every date imaginable, and she was pregnant. But she had become pregnant after the change. She was due in early summer.

  Clora, on the other hand, would be due in, what, March, April? I watched her for a long moment and thought about it. The firefly pixies tended to gather around her when they were out and flying around and not hunting. Transfixed by her, I thought they liked her bright orange hair. A little memory floated back to me. The firefly pixies had said something right away. It had been Flowers who had sang, “We like these humans!” She hadn’t meant the group as I had assumed. She had meant Clora and her unborn child.

  I needed to have a long conversation with Spring.

  As we moved to the opposite side of Omaha, I observed how most of the group was considerate of Clora. Even Lulu went out of her way, offering to carry her pack. Jeez, Lulu had known before I had. The giant moths had probably known before I had.