Diffusion Box Set

by Stan C. Smith

  The river was maybe fifty meters from where they were setting up camp. When Bobby and Carlos stopped at the jumbled boulders near the water, Ashley was nowhere to be seen.

  “Jesus flipping Christ, you guys! I’m taking a pee!” Ashley was squatted in the trees a short distance away, glaring at them. “Turn around!”

  Bobby felt his face flush as he and Carlos turned the other way. Before he could stop himself, he slugged Carlos on the arm, to show that it was his friend’s fault that they had followed Ashley.

  “Sorry for hitting you, man,” he said in a whisper.

  Carlos just stared ahead.

  A moment later, Ashley was beside them. “All done.” She looked at Bobby for a few uncomfortable seconds, and then she actually smiled. “I didn’t like coming down here by myself anyway. It kind of creeps me out.” She held up her hands and frowned as she inspected them. Then, apparently determined to wash them, she moved to the boulders at the river’s edge. The jumbled rocks on the bank made it difficult to step directly into the water.

  Bobby pointed downstream. “Maybe down there,” he said. He and Carlos followed as she looked for a suitable spot.

  “Did you guys want something? Or did you follow me to see me pee?”

  Bobby said, “No, we just didn’t think you should come down here alone.”

  “My heroes,” she said. Finally she found a place where she could step on several rocks to get to the water. She hopped from rock to rock. The rocks were wet from the rain.

  “Be careful,” Bobby said.

  “Seriously, Bobby?”

  She ended up on a large boulder that sloped toward the water, and she inched her way down the slope on her butt until her toes were at the edge. She leaned forward and started scrubbing her hands.

  Bobby decided to join her. He stepped on the same rocks she had used until he was looking down at her from atop the sloping boulder. Carlos had followed him, and they both sat down at the top of the slope and watched her. As she leaned forward, Bobby tried keeping his eyes from drifting below her bare shoulders.

  Carlos surprised Bobby by breaking the silence. “There’s something in there,” he said. He pointed to the brown water in front of Ashley.

  A large shape was rising to the surface. Bobby’s muscles tensed up as if electricity were shooting through his body.

  “Ashley,” he cried. “Get back!”

  She had already seen it. Just as she was pushing herself to her feet the shape exploded out of the water and lunged at her. Her arms flew up to protect her face and the thing actually rammed into her elbows, knocking her onto her back. It then crashed down onto the rock.

  Bobby stared in horror, hardly able to comprehend what he was seeing. The head of a massive crocodile was on the rock between Ashley’s knees. It swung its jaws to the side and barely missed Ashley’s foot as she kicked and scrambled to get away, her feet slipping on the wet rock. The monster snapped again and almost caught her other leg.

  At the edge of his vision, Bobby saw Carlos heave something. It was a football-sized rock, and it flew over Ashley and hit the crocodile squarely on the back behind its head. Apparently startled, the creature retreated into the water and sank out of sight.

  Ashley rolled over onto all fours and fought to stand up. Finally her feet gripped the rock and she was upright. Her eyes met Bobby’s. He had never seen her look so stricken.

  Bobby leaned forward, his hand outstretched. “Come on!”

  Her face became determined and she held out her hand. But she was short by a meter. He inched his way down the boulder, and she took a step up. Their hands met. Bobby gripped her hand as tight as he could. Carlos grabbed Bobby’s other hand to keep him from sliding down.

  “Hurry, Ashley!” Bobby said.

  She took another step up the rock. “Did you freaking see that? Did you see it, Bobby?” She took another step.

  With a wet swishing sound, both of her feet slipped. Her hand was yanked from Bobby’s grip. Her head hit the rock with a sick thud. She stopped moving and her body slid down the boulder and into the water.

  For several drawn-out seconds, Bobby stared in disbelief. Ashley’s body bobbed to the surface, face down, and was carried downstream. Behind him, Carlos said, “Oh, shit.”

  “Get the others!” Bobby cried, and then he skittered down the rock and plunged into the river.

  The pile of sago palm leaves in Quentin’s outstretched arms was growing larger as Lindsey continued to add more. Samuel and the Addison replica were doing the same thing somewhere nearby. The plan was to use the meter-long fronds for the roof of a simple rain shelter.

  Quentin was more than glad to be out of sight of the Addison replica. It was easier to take his mind off his son’s fate when he didn’t have to see a copy of him every time he turned around. Lindsey hadn’t spoken since they’d started collecting the palm fronds, and Quentin made no attempt at conversation. They were descending into a pattern of episodic periods of somber silence. They hadn’t actually articulated it, but there seemed to be mutual agreement that speaking during these episodes would only make things worse. Poorly chosen words could crumble the unsteady walls they were each trying to construct to hold back a tidal wave of grief.

  “Help! You guys, where are you? We need help!”

  It was Carlos, from back near the camp. Quentin made eye contact with Lindsey for a second that seemed longer than it was, and then he dropped the fronds and sprinted toward camp, crashing through the underbrush.

  Carlos was babbling. “Hurry—real bad! It’s Ashley—drowning! And Bobby!” He turned and headed for the river with Quentin and Lindsey on his heels.

  Quentin had no idea what had happened, but the thought of losing anyone else in his group prompted an upwelling of anger and determination. He wouldn’t let that happen.

  “She fell in here,” Carlos panted, pointing to an area of jumbled boulders. “But the water carried her away. Bobby went in after her!”

  Without waiting for further details, Quentin and Lindsey moved downstream, trying to stay close enough to the river to see the water. But the unencumbered sunlight at the water’s edge had resulted in plant growth so thick that this was nearly impossible. After moving perhaps fifty meters downriver, Quentin turned and plunged through the growth until he was standing waist-deep in the water. He had to grasp an overhanging tree to keep from being swept off his feet. Bobby and Ashley were nowhere to be seen. But then, about 75 meters down the river, Bobby’s head appeared. He was struggling, trying to get his footing while pulling something toward the shore. It was Ashley, her body mostly submerged and lifeless.

  “Quentin, do you see them?” Lindsey called from shore.

  Quentin pulled himself back up the riverbank. He tried not to show the terror that he felt. “This way!”

  Moving downstream close to the water’s edge was a nightmare—vines and roots encircling their legs and torsos, causing them to progress in slow motion. But Quentin didn’t dare move farther from the river where he would be unable to see Bobby and Ashley. Finally he spotted Bobby through a gap in the foliage.

  “There he is!” he shouted, not even certain the others were still with him. He bounded into the river and pushed aside the branches extending out over the water. The river was not as deep here, but slippery rocks and strong current made it hard to wade.

  Bobby was perhaps ten meters out into the river, hanging on to a rock with one hand. His other hand was clamped onto Ashley’s wrist. He was trying to pull her toward him, to get her flipped onto her back. Ashley still wasn’t moving, and Quentin tried not to think about how long she had been face down.

  Quentin slipped and then caught himself. He slipped again, this time floating several meters downstream before regaining his footing. He was making progress, but now he had to move upstream as well as across the river. Amidst his struggles, Bobby looked up and saw Quentin approaching, but he was obviously too exhausted to speak.

  After slipping several more times, Quentin was
at Bobby’s side. He grabbed Ashley by the armpits and turned her over. She was unconscious and her face was unnaturally white.

  “I’ve got her,” Quentin said. “Can you get on your feet?”

  Bobby still didn’t speak, but without the burden of Ashley’s body he was able to stand up.

  Quentin looked at the far shore. It was at least fifteen meters away. They would have to haul Ashley back the way he had come.

  Bobby didn’t wait to be told. He linked his fingers together under one of Ashley’s arms, and Quentin did the same with her other arm. They pushed toward shore with her between them. As they approached the shore, Lindsey and Samuel waded out to help. They all dragged Ashley up through the vegetation to a small clearing.

  Quentin said, “Bobby, help me lift her! Samuel, we’re going to lay her over your shoulder so her head is hanging down.”

  Carlos and Bobby helped lift her. When Ashley was hanging over Samuel’s shoulder, a disturbing amount of water trickled out of her mouth and nose. Quentin pressed on her back and chest and even more came out.

  As they put her on the ground, Bobby spoke for the first time. “She was under water way too long.” He dropped to his knees and put his fingers on her neck, feeling for a pulse.

  Lindsey didn’t wait. She kneeled on Ashley’s other side and began forceful chest compressions. Quentin heard a rattling waft of air go in and out of Ashley’s mouth with each compression.

  “I don’t feel any heartbeat,” Bobby said. His voice was flat, as if he were too numb to emotionalize what was really happening.

  Quentin gently pulled Bobby’s hand away and felt her neck himself. He moved his fingers farther under her chin, and then closer to the collarbone. There were no signs of life.

  Ashley had drowned.

  Lindsey was now sobbing, but she continued the compressions. Quentin didn’t bother to stop her. He released Ashley’s neck, got to his feet, and paced back and forth, clasping his head with both hands. He didn’t know whether to scream or to cry. For a few insane seconds he stared at a nearby tree and considered running full-speed into its trunk. Maybe it would crush his skull and put an end to everything. But he flushed the thought. He didn’t deserve such self-indulgence.

  Finally, Lindsey stopped pressing on Ashley’s chest. She sat there on her knees, her tears creating lines of pale skin on her muddy face. She looked up at Quentin, and he saw more in her eyes than just tears. She was on the verge of panic. Like Quentin, she had reached a breaking point but knew that breaking would be disastrous for the entire group. She seemed to take comfort from this silent exchange with Quentin, and finally she nodded slightly.

  Quentin turned to Bobby. “How did this happen?”

  Bobby ignored him. Instead he spoke to the Lamotelokhai, his voice still unusually flat. “Bring her back. You can, right? I know you can.”

  The Addison replica kneeled down but didn’t touch Ashley’s body. “Ashley is dead. I helped you when you were hurt. When I helped you, you were not dead. This is different.”

  “I know you can do it.” Bobby’s voice now carried a slight edge. “Bring her back. I’m telling you to bring her back!”

  Quentin was aware he should say something—he should intervene. But he remained silent.

  The Lamotelokhai gazed at Bobby without expression. Its blue eyes again seemed to shift briefly to a peculiar golden yellow. It then pressed its finger against its own abdomen. With a faint pop, the finger pushed through the skin and disappeared all the way to the first knuckle. The finger came out covered in blood and curled around a walnut-sized mass of tissue. The Addison copy then moved its hand to Ashley’s face. It shoved the mass into her mouth and then wiped the finger across her cheek, leaving a red streak on her deathly white skin. As Quentin stared at the streak, it gradually faded. Seconds later there was nothing left but dry, rust-colored residue.

  Everyone seemed unwilling to break the silence. Quentin’s eyes were glued to the stain on Ashley’s skin, but his mind was elsewhere, engaged in a raging conflict. What would happen to Ashley now? Why had he not stopped this? Why hadn’t Lindsey stopped it? Was their despair so consuming that they actually hoped this abhorrent copy of their son could bring Ashley back from the dead?

  Quentin realized this was exactly what he wanted. As heinous as the idea was, at that moment he wanted it. After losing Roberto and Russ, and Miranda, and then Addison, he wanted it more than anything. He needed it in order to go on living. He looked across Ashley’s body at Lindsey, and he saw the same need in her eyes.

  Minutes passed. Still, no words were spoken. As they watched, Ashley’s skin gradually turned from white to its original flesh color, as if the capillaries near the surface were filling with blood. The entire situation seemed surreal to Quentin. They were all gathered around Ashley, anticipating something that couldn’t possibly happen, at least not in the reality in which Quentin had previously lived. He understood that when an animal died, there could be no turning back. When the heart stopped beating, the cells throughout the body were deprived of oxygen and they died. This was why Ashley’s skin had turned white. And brain cells died even before skin cells did. Ashley’s dead brain cells had likely already released the enzymes that helped microorganisms break them down. Her memories, her personality, all elements of her consciousness, were gone in the first few minutes after her heart had stopped beating. At least ten minutes—maybe twenty—must have passed between Ashley drowning and the Lamotelokhai’s intervention. Decomposition began immediately after cell death, and there was simply no turning back.

  Yet here they were, hoping and waiting for the impossible.

  Ashley’s face seemed to shift, changing its shape. Quentin blinked, uncertain he was actually seeing it happen. As he stared, her forehead receded, and the skin on her cheeks sagged as if it were no longer attached to the underlying tissue. But soon her familiar facial features returned and solidified.

  Quentin was looking directly at Ashley’s temple when it began to throb with a new pulse. At that moment he had witnessed the creation of life from nonliving matter. Minutes later, her chest began to rise and fall.

  When Ashley opened her eyes, nobody had yet spoken since Bobby had ordered the Lamotelokhai to bring her back, perhaps a half-hour before. She blinked a few times, and then her eyes seemed to focus on the trees above her. She turned her head and saw that they were all gathered around her. Her brows furrowed and she frowned. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled cough.

  Lindsey leaned forward and placed her hand on Ashley’s cheek.

  Ashley turned to the side and spat out a mass of pale phlegm. Then she rolled over and vomited up a shockingly large mass of unidentifiable grey, viscous material. After spitting the remains from her mouth, she rolled on to her back again. She looked directly at Bobby.

  “Nobody’s saying anything,” she said. “You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

  Lindsey turned and looked at Quentin. Her tears were flowing again.

  “This can’t be good,” Ashley said. “What happened?”

  Bobby spoke to her. “You fell on the rocks, remember? A crocodile came at you, and then you fell in the river. I tried to get you out, but it was hard. It took a long time.” Bobby shook his head and looked toward the river, like he didn’t want to say any more. Then he turned back to her. “You drowned, Ashley.”

  Ashley seemed to think about this. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never went to the river, and I didn’t see any crocodile. I think I’d remember that.” She tried sitting up, and Bobby reached out to help her. When she was upright she brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “I remember things just fine. We were all walking. It had started raining—raining for maybe fifteen minutes. It was getting slick. There was like, a gulley, and I stopped to give people a hand as they crossed it. Carlos and Bobby were behind me, so I helped them. Then there was—that thing.” She nodded toward the Addison replica. “I gave him a hand, too. That’s it.
Then I woke up here, with everyone staring at me. What the hell, guys?”

  The Lamotelokhai spoke. “Ashley, you died. Bobby asked me to reconstruct you. I did. You have the memories of the other Ashley that were available to me. The memories of the other Ashley that happened after the last time I touched her were not available to me. So I could not give you those memories.”

  The thing stopped talking. The only sounds were the pattering of lightly falling rain and the constant hum from the cloud of flies buzzing at a respectful distance above them.

  Ashley looked at her hands, then she ran them over her legs, inspecting them as if it were the first time she had ever seen them. She turned her gaze back to the copy of Addison.

  “What the hell do you mean, ‘the other Ashley?’”

  Chapter Three

  Bobby sat on the ground with his back to a tree, silently watching the others. They seemed upset, confused about what had happened, and uncertain that they had done the right thing. And again it was all because of a decision Bobby had made.

  When he had ordered Addison to bring Ashley back, it seemed like the right thing to do. How could he have made any other choice?

  “I feel perfectly fine!” Ashley exclaimed. She was on her feet now, pacing back and forth, apparently annoyed at being told she should be sitting down. “What’s not fine is that I can’t remember what I did during a big part of the day. And the reason why is because the person who did those things wasn’t even me!”

  “At least you’re alive,” Carlos said. “You almost got eaten.”

  Ashley shot a hard look at him. “That was someone else, remember?” She then hesitated, and her frown softened. She sighed. “Okay. Yes, I’m happy to be alive. But the original me died. How am I supposed to deal with that?”