by Kip Nelson
Greg didn't agree with that assessment at all and made sure Tillman knew his opinion. The three of them continued debating the relative worth of different characters, and Tillman was glad, because it seemed to take their mind off the three men who were following them.
Greg and Penelope were getting into a passionate argument about the merits of two of the most popular characters while Tillman stayed quiet. He continually craned his neck back so he could keep track of the three figures. They were keeping their distance and hadn't made any threatening moves yet, but still were following the three of them, stalking them.
If they were hunters, they weren't doing a very good job of it.
They crossed the bridge and the railroad tracks began to dip down so they were level with the ground upon which they had been laid. The tall towers and skyscrapers rose behind them, but since they were unlit they were not impressive. It merely looked as though there was a hole in the sky.
Greg and Penelope's argument died down as they began realizing that they never would get to play that game again.
“It's weird to think these hands never will hold a controller again,” Greg said.
“Or rule the world in Civ,” Penelope added.
“We've lost a lot,” Tillman said. “But we have to remember that we do have skills we have honed over the years, skills that can help us have the advantage over others.”
“Such as?” Penelope asked.
It was clear she didn't believe him. Tillman admired her for her bravery, but she was holding onto her fear, internalizing it, trying to deny it. It was a valiant effort, but eventually her willpower would falter, for it was a muscle like any other, and she would have to face that which plagued her. She was doing a better job of it than Greg, who was letting his fear feed his anger. He was liable to explode at any moment. Tillman didn't like this because it was unpredictable. If it had been anyone other than Greg, Tillman would be thinking very hard about whether he wanted him around. All it would take would be one rash moment for their safety to be jeopardized.
They followed the railroad tracks for a little while until they saw a road through the trees, and made their way towards that. Tillman knew they could be walking along the tracks for a long time before they came to a station, but the road would be more likely to lead them to a gas station or a small town. Plus, the railroad track only would take him away from the direction of his parents.
“For one thing, what we're doing right now. We're creatures of the night. We're used to letting the hours dwindle away until the dawn sun starts seeping through the curtains, and we're bleary-eyed, wondering where the time has gone. We don't live to the normal nine-to-five schedule like other people. We're also able to adapt. Think of how many different games we've played over the years, how many rules we've had to come to grips with. We're good at acclimatizing ourselves to new situations. We know the steps we have to take, and we know how to grind,” Tillman said.
“God, yeah. I remember having to kill about one thousand wombats before I was ready to take on the boss in Endless Dream,” Penelope said. “I never thought of it like that,” she added.
“I think I'm going to need to take another break soon,” Greg said. He was hunched over, and his forehead glistened as his sweat caught the moonlight. Tillman glanced at him and then at the people who were following them. Penelope remembered them too.
“We can't stop, Greg,” she said.
“I can't go on much longer. I'm getting a cramp,” he said, and put his hands on his thighs, bending over. For a moment Tillman thought Greg was going to retch. Greg lumbered like an elephant and then sat down, taking considerable weight off his feet.
They were on the edge of the road. Unlike in the city, they were not surrounded by a concrete jungle. There was a forest around them, dark and shadowy, looking foreboding in the night. A metal barrier ran along the side of the road, presumably to prevent cars from sliding off the road and crashing into the trees. It wasn't the most comfortable place to sit, but it would do.
The moment Tillman took the weight off his feet he felt the pain come back. It was almost as though he had been numbed to the pain while he had been walking. He winced and massaged his ankle, then took out the painkillers and swallowed another couple of them, hoping they would kick in more quickly than last time.
Greg wheezed beside him. The husky man took the bottom of his shirt and used it as a towel to wipe away the sweat from his face, although it didn't do much to help. Sweat gushed down him in a steady stream.
Penelope remained standing, pacing back and forth, using up her nervous energy.
She looked behind her.
“What do they want?” she asked.
“I can take a few guesses,” Greg said darkly.
“Let's not get carried away. We still don't know what's going on. They may well be just as afraid of us as we are of them,” Tillman said.
“That's what my mom used to say about spiders,” Greg said. “Didn't stop them from scaring the hell out of me.”
“Should we go talk to them?” Penelope asked.
“No way!” Greg said.
“Only if they come up to us,” Tillman said. “I'm not going to turn my back on people who need help, but I'm not going to risk our safety either.”
“So, you admit they are dangerous!” Greg said.
“Everything is dangerous in the right circumstance,” Tillman said. “I hope this is just a coincidence, but it seems they have stopped moving too.”
Tillman looked back at the short distance they had walked. The others were standing at the far end of the bridge, unmoved. From this distance they looked like statues. Tillman wondered how his group looked to them. Were they having the same discussion? Were they wondering if he, Greg, and Penelope could be trusted?
“I think I have an idea to make sure,” Tillman said, and pointed to an unlit sign that was partially hidden by an overhanging branch. It pointed to an exit that was half a mile away. “If we turn off there, we'll be able to tell for sure if they're following us. Because that road leads to nowhere.”
“I don't want to take a detour,” Greg whined.
“Would you rather just have them follow us all the way?” Tillman asked.
“No,” Greg said petulantly. “At least they haven't rushed down here while we're resting.”
“Maybe they're just taking their time, deciding what they're going to do with us. We're out here, all alone. They might see it as a foregone conclusion,” Penelope said. She had stopped pacing now, but she was chewing her lower lip. Staying still like this allowed them to recover some strength, but it also afforded them the opportunity to dwell on the horrors, to let fear creep up and drag their minds into a dark hole.
“Penelope, I won't let anything happen to you. We don't know what these people want. If they do want to hurt us, then we'll deal with that. We can run, we can hide, or we can fight. It's natural to be scared, but we don't have to let that fear control us,” Tillman said.
As he spoke, he could feel the painkillers starting to take effect. He pushed himself up and put weight on his ankle, hoping it wouldn't fail him if they needed to run.
He held out his hand to Greg, who looked reluctantly at it. Then Greg took Tillman's hand and used all his strength to pull the big man up. He wiped his hand afterward, for Greg's hands were clammy.
It had been only a short rest, and Greg didn't look much better for it, but he said he was able to continue.
It was a shame they were taking a detour, but it was an important one to test these strangers and find out what they really wanted. Tillman had tried to be positive and reassuring to Penelope, but he didn't hold out much hope that these men were benevolent or non-threatening.
The worst parts of humanity would be on display in a world like this. Tillman had the distinct feeling they were being hunted, slowly and inexorably. He wasn't afraid of being hurt. He was afraid of having their supplies stolen. There was something else he was afraid of as well, something that he hadn
't voiced to Penelope, although the same thought probably had occurred to her.
The men may well have been tracking them because of Penelope, to do unspeakable things to her. Dark impulses now had the chance to be indulged. Tillman had hoped it would be at least a day before people began realizing they could do anything they wanted without suffering punishment, but perhaps these men were adjusting to the world more quickly.
Tillman led them around the curve in the road and hoped he was wrong. He prayed that these men were just harmless wanderers like themselves, but he had to prepare for the worst. He had to think of them as predators, but if they were they would find their prey was not easily tamed.
“We'll try keeping up a good pace, but let's not make it obvious that we've seen them. We don't want to make them think we're scared. Even if we're not feeling it we have to show strength,” Tillman said. At that, Greg puffed out his chest.
Chapter Fourteen
As they walked farther away from the city they walked farther into the darkness and seemed to be engulfed by it. The tall trees were blocking the vast majority of the moonlight, casting them in shadow. It was only a feeling, a perception, and yet it made Tillman's skin crawl. He thought about the earlier debate, how Greg had wanted light and Penelope had chosen darkness. There always had been too much darkness in the world. It was synonymous with danger and death.
All through their existence humans have been conditioned to love the light and fear the darkness. When it's dark we're told to go to sleep. As children we're given night lights to help soothe our fear. The streets are bathed with electric lights at night to help us find our way. In the darkness we are deprived of our senses. The unknown lurks around us, and that always holds our greatest fear.
Light is safety. The silver light of the Moon was not enough to give Tillman and the others a sense of security. The darkness gave people the idea that their deeds were hidden, that they could do anything and get away with it. How many times had crimes been committed in dark alleyways or in the depth of night when the rest of society was sleeping? Darkness was cold. Darkness was loneliness. Darkness was danger.
The artificial light had given them all a misplaced sense of safety. In the heart of the city there had been permanent light. Bars and stores had been open all hours of the day. The world never slept. People were told they could do anything they wanted at all hours of the day. But now that light had been taken from them. There were no longer electric lights bathing the world. No longer were there sparks and hollows of light leading to safety. There was only endless darkness. Shadows upon shadows.
It raised the question then of how we were supposed to be safe in a world without light.
Tillman reached around to the small of his back and felt the gun. He breathed a sigh of relief. Safety. Protection.
“You know who I don't feel sorry for?” Greg said.
“Who?” Penelope asked.
Tillman only half-listened to the conversation for he was sure that one of Greg's legendary rants was about to follow. The man had a permanent chip on his shoulder and felt as though the world had been unfair to him. Everyone had it better off than Greg, according to nobody else but Greg.
“The rich. They buy themselves out of anything. Remember when the economy collapsed? Funny how it was only the poor that really suffered. All the big boys kept their wealth and just held the boot down on society’s neck even harder. They get richer and the rest of us just suffer. That's always been the way of the world. If you have money, you're going to have more money, and if you don't, then you're screwed. Well, they're all screwed now, and I am loving it. I love to think of them all in their penthouses, trying to figure out a way they can buy their way out of this mess.
“They're not special anymore. We're all equal here. We're all in danger every step of the way. This is the great equalizer, you know? A way for us all to live in a balanced world again. And I bet most of them will die. They won't have the determination to live. They've relied on other people for their wealth their entire lives. They're nothing by themselves, and they're going to have to watch the world move on without them, utterly powerless.”
Greg's eyes grew wide when he spoke, and he almost was laughing like a maniac.
“They're people too, Greg, just like me and you. I wouldn't be so quick to enjoy the thought of their downfall,” Penelope said.
“But that's just it. They're not like us, are they? They might as well live in the clouds. They don't have to worry about the same things as we do. They don't have to worry about anything! They've been living life in their golden city, and now it's been torn apart,” Greg spat, having no love for the wealthy elite at all.
“Golden city,” Tillman said. “It's funny, isn't it? How everything good is linked to the light? Wealth, prosperity, safety, purity. In many ways we're basically still sun-worshipers.”
“It's better than the darkness. Monsters lurk in the dark,” Penelope said, looking over her shoulder. They couldn't see beyond the curve of the road, so couldn’t yet tell if the three men still were following them. Tillman thought it almost a certainty now. If they hadn't stopped when the three of them had stopped he would have been inclined to think otherwise, but with most people going toward the city it was irregular that they were venturing the same way as Tillman and his group.
He had a feeling they soon would find out the true intentions of those men anyway.
“It's curious how so much of our psyche has been framed by this dichotomy between light and darkness. I wonder how our ancestors felt as they walked through the world, knowing they had to endure hours of darkness until they could see the light again. We even link ignorance with darkness. The word enlightenment has light in it. So much of our belief system and society has been based around light, and now that has been taken away from us,” Tillman said.
“We still can make fire, though. And I still don't think things are as bad as you're making out. Sometimes, Tillman, you're a real downer. It hasn't even been one night yet and you're ready to portray the world as this bleak thing, but you don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. Nobody does. That's the beauty of life! We all could wake up tomorrow and find out that everyone is safe, and they've worked out a way to bring the electricity back online,” Greg said.
Tillman didn't give any response. He didn't want to get into another argument with Greg about the state of the world. He didn't understand why Greg couldn't accept the changing circumstances of the world, and why he had to cling to this belief that everything was going to be alright. It only would make it harder to adjust later on.
Tillman glanced at Penelope. She continually was looking over her shoulder and seemed too preoccupied with the men who were following them to bother arguing with Greg.
They followed the road’s curve until it straightened out. Forest surrounded them on both sides. The trees were like silent guardians, standing tall, their gnarled trunks speaking stories that spanned hundreds of years. Long, heavy branches reached out and formed a web, blocking out the light from the sky. Occasionally they heard rustling. Tillman's eyes always darted to the source, but he didn't see anything. It reminded him that they had to focus on the natural world as well as the human one, for animals would pose a threat as well.
The soft rustling made him think it was a squirrel or a raccoon, something that wouldn't pose much of a threat, at the moment anyway. But there were more formidable things in the woods, things such as bears and wolves that were prowling around, waiting to reclaim their place on the food chain. Perhaps this was a time when humanity would pay for its cruel subjugation of the natural world. They had been usurped from their position of dominance and were being forced to accept being back in the doldrums, where they had to fight and scrap with the rest of the animals for a foothold in life.
At one point, Tillman thought he saw beady eyes staring at him, but if so they were gone as quickly as they had appeared. Whenever Tillman looked into the darkness he was amazed by how endless it seemed. If they went into the
depths of the forest now, they surely would get lost. But Tillman knew the darkness was not only a danger to them, it also could offer protection. In the darkness they could hide, become invisible, scurry about like the nocturnal animals and hide from those who meant to do them harm.
He didn't want to stray too far from the main road in case they did get lost. He didn't want to wander around aimlessly for hours on end and lose a lot of time, but some distance was required for his plan to work.
Greg was muttering to himself, and eventually Tillman had to tell him to be quiet. It wasn't going to do any of them any good if their words were carried through the night air to the men who were following them. Tillman still held out a faint hope that their stealth was going to prove unnecessary, and that the people following them simply would pass them by, but his instincts were telling him that danger was afoot.
Tillman pointed to his right, where there was a collection of bushes and shrubs. They looked innocuous and provided a good hiding place for the group.
Greg hung his head and sighed, as if to complain that he had to leave the road and settle down into this natural habitat, with thorns and prickles and nettles.
“It'll give you a chance to rest at least,” Tillman said. Greg glared at him.
The three of them departed the smooth surface of the road and headed toward the edge of the forest. There was less light there, which was both good and bad. It would make seeing where they were going more difficult, but it also meant they themselves would be more difficult to see.
Tillman held a finger up to his mouth, indicating for them to be silent. The last thing he needed was for Greg to start ranting again and give up their position.
They crouched down and made their way behind a shrub, pushing into each other. Greg and Penelope whispered harshly as Greg seemed to be making it quite difficult. The shrub was thick, but hopefully would hide them. There were a few small gaps through which the three of them could watch and wait. Their eyes were locked on the road.
