If the cat felt safe enough to sleep here, I could embrace the silence of the night; it brought a sensation that we were truly alone. I listened to the only sound in the late-night hours: the cat’s snores.
Later, while it was still dark, the pain of hunger in my stomach swelled. I had gotten quite used to the feeling, but thought about the food. I inched my way as to not wake the cat but it was too late. It wasn’t used to sharing its bed with anyone. So, it stared at me, ears back, listening to something in the distance. I pulled on the drawstrings.
I crammed a piece of beef jerky into my mouth.
The cat inched towards me. He came closer and closer until he had his leg on me and reached up to touch my arm with his paw.
“You want something to eat, little fella?” I whispered. I placed a small piece of the dried meat on the bed. The cat purred as it swallowed it. “You didn’t even chew it,” I said, and chuckled. I ate another piece after placing a few more on the blanket for the cat.
I lay down on the bed once the two of us decided that we had had enough of the meat. I stared through the grate on the ceiling. The stars shone down on me.
Is this where Jaxson expected me to stay? Here in this little makeshift room.
It did have a bed, after all. I had the cat. Best of all, I had the sky.
The cat watched the stars.
“You like the sky, little guy?”
The cat ignored me. He rolled onto his back and looked at the grate. “You seem to enjoy the sky. Maybe you and I could be roommates.”
The cat stretched and moaned.
“Sky-Guy, where in the world are we?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t look at me.
“I don’t mind seeing the stars this way, but I sure wish I could be up there to see the world. Well, to tell you the truth, I would like to go home…to my own world. Maybe you could come…”
Chapter Seventeen
I heard a reptilian squeal from down the corridor in my nightmares. I woke from my slumber, heart rate escalating as I shook from the nightmare. I guess I would have to get used to nightmares after what I had gone through. The feeling of impending doom lingered.
I looked for the cat and it was his response to the squeal from my dream that made me realize that I hadn’t heard it within my dream, but rather, the motorized screech had woken me from my slumber.
The cat’s hair rose and its ears lay flat on its head. It stared down the corridor from where the sound had echoed, and the fur on his back rose.
When the cat stood, I followed suit and when it took off running, I chased it. I heard another squeal as if it knew it was in pursuit. The light from the grate above gave just enough illumination to guide me. But when the cat ran past a vertical set of metal rungs embedded in the concrete wall, I whistled.
To my astonishment, the cat stopped and waited. I called to it, but it remained. I approached and picked it up, hurrying back to the first metal rung, with him in the crook of my elbow. I reached up to grasp the rung and that cat clung to me. I somehow climbed the ladder while holding the cat.
When I was almost to the top, I heard something echo from within the small room where the mattress lay. The lights from the creature lit the room and it was exposed. I held my breath.
As if the cat understood, it froze too. I expected it to claw my face as it dug its claws to flee, but it didn’t. It wasn’t his first introduction to these creatures.
Frightening robotic clicks of many metal-clawed feet echoed as it approached. A sound from the corridor made it pause. Then I heard the scrabbling of a second creature’s many legs. They made a series of high-pitched screeches and squeals, not unlike the tones of dial-up internet connecting through a phone line.
Two feet in height, these creatures were far bigger than I had imagined. They were the size of a Bull Terrier which made their insect features magnified as if they were under a microscope. Grids ran across their eyes.
A smooth black thorax and reinforced metallic abdomen gave them a shield against blunt force. Segmented metal antennae stretched outward and flanked a thick thorn which protruded off the top of its head. Two pincers snapped opened and closed as it stepped closer and then its legs spread out and its eye glowed red.
My phobia of large beetles made me shudder at the sight; the spikes would likely stick into my flesh like barbed wire while the pincers tore me apart. I could never let one of them catch me.
When the second approached, they sent alternating signals to one another in frequencies that could have been created using the human voice, suggesting the ability to communicate. If it was a language, it sounded like gibberish to me.
If they can transmit this sound to each other across distance, could they call in reinforcements?
During the highest pitch of the sounds, I climbed higher and then stopped when their squeals ceased. Can they climb? Can they record what they see? Are they being programmed or remotely controlled by someone? Can they shoot? Do they have the authority to kill?
I glanced at the grate and wondered how fast I could climb the last two rungs, push that heavy metal grate and then get through, knocking it back down before the reptilian insects could catch me. The hairs on the back of my neck tingled and a chill ran up my spine.
They will hear you. Don’t move. As long as they don’t look up.
They examined the room below, studying the garbage with their legs and pincers. Their glowing eyes reminded me of the smaller ones from the jail cells.
If they do look up, I will be caught.
They searched the bedding, tossing the contents of the bag using the pincers. A noise from further down the tunnel caught their attention. A rock hitting the wall, perhaps, and rolling down with a splash. Whatever it was, the sound made the creatures sprint, disappearing into the shadows. Something else is down here with us.
Their vicious screeching echoed as they attacked some unfortunate being and I quickly made my escape, climbing and pushing on the grate. It was heavier than I had anticipated and I pushed with one arm until I had to use my back to push it the rest of the way. It fell with an echoing clank and I heard the screeches of the creatures coming back, their metal legs clicking and their approach accelerating. I tossed the cat through the opening, climbed the rest of the way up, and heaved the grate down with a clang.
I pulled a shelf until it fell from the wall, and once the jars spilled their contents, I pushed it towards the grate to block the way.
The cat disappeared through an open interior door. I sat on the floor panting and unable to move. The close call and the exertion were too much. “So much for that hiding place,” I worried.
The robotic insects screeched from below. I waited to hear the sound of metal on metal as they scraped their way up the ladder. Nothing indicated that they were on the other side of the grate, gripping the ladder with their metal legs.
I knew I couldn’t stay here. If they knew the way to this spot from another direction, I would be caught. When nothing approached the vent, I figured I had a few minutes to search for weapons and food. Then I had to go.
I moved through the room, looking for anything I could grab for a weapon. I picked up a piece of wood. As I timed myself, I looked for canned food. I opened all the cupboards and drawers, leaving them ajar in my haste. To my surprise, there were quite a few. I grabbed two cans.
90 seconds.
Crusty, paint peeled and what wasn’t peeling, colourful graffiti had been sprayed to display messages on the cabinet doors. The drawers displayed cutlery, utensils and scissors. Rags. Cleaning supplies under the sink. This was someone’s home. Just in case, I left most of it behind.
I slipped on strewn litter on the floor.
I splashed through a water puddle as I looked in the pantry, glancing at the holes in the ceiling.
The surfaces were caked in dust, and it was possible that it would have been a good place to hide if it hadn’t been for the robotic insects below. No one had been here in a long time.
45 seconds.
I looked around for the cat. It probably was better to be on its own. I did not make a good companion; I had two-foot obsidian insects after me. There was a mattress and blanket on the floor. No exit out the back.
30 seconds.
Finding nothing more, I checked closets. There were clothes hung on the hangers. I grabbed one outfit. Dresser drawers behind me had socks peeking out, stuffed full. I grabbed one set and left the drawer open.
Exposed pipes dripped on my head as I stepped over crumbled brick. Loose wiring. An old chewed rug. My foot crunched against the glass and debris. In the closet, there was a broom, mop and pail. There were even some cleaning supplies and spider web covered paper towels.
15 seconds.
Wind whistled through the broken window panes but no screeches yet. I passed what used to be a bathroom and stopped for medications. The dirty, broken window faced the back alleyway and I glanced outside for movement.
10 seconds.
The medicine cabinet had some bandages, some ointments and pills, probably expired. I took the box of bandages. The dust floated into the air. I sneezed. Froze. Listened. No screeching.
5 seconds.
Dead flies fell off the window sill when I tried to get the window open. Stuck. It looked like it would open with a little encouragement but I was afraid to make any noise. I left it alone.
Front door it is. I noticed the dead bolt. That would have come in handy.
Times up.
I crawled along the wall of the building and down the alleyway between. A ghost town of buildings made it easy to navigate without being seen. The town was quiet. No screeches or whines in the distance.
I didn’t know where it was safe. I decided to just move and keeping moving. The sun was going down. Weak, tea-stained light lit the alleys and debris covered the steps to the buildings.
I picked a path through litter, avoiding wires, spilling from the broken wall like a corpse’s innards. Every few steps, I stopped to listen for the robotic squeals. All was quiet. Maybe they weren’t coming.
I noticed the cat followed, trailing behind low to the ground, along the crates and boxes in the alleyways.
I have to find a place to hide. Choose a building, hide in an attic. Ladder to a roof.
I heard steps in the ruined home to my right. I ran to hide behind a dumpster. Then in the window, a young girl emerged.
Short blond, shaggy hair frizzed into tight curls to reveal a fine, cheerful face. Sparkling brown eyes watched me from the building step.
Scars reaching from the right side of her forehead, running towards her other eye and ending on her left nostril made me wonder if it left a stinging memory of departed loved ones or times of war.
Her pants were torn; the right side was nothing more than a bunch of shreds but at least she had shoes to protect her feet. Although they were stained, way too big and the outer fabric was tattered, worn and missing in some places, they would protect her from the debris and uneven pavement.
I thought about calling out, but then, with the creatures potentially after me, I would put her in danger too. I refrained from looking for help from a child and ran down the alley. When I got to the end, I peered around the next building and then I heard her small voice behind me.
“My mother told me to ask you to come back.”
“She sent you?” I dashed towards her. “You have to go back. Something’s tracking me. It’ll hurt you to get to me.” I turned her around, and gave her a little shove.
She gripped my wrist. “Come, quickly. I can hear them already.”
The dust from the buildings seemed to drift over me from above. The ground was rumbling. I heard the reptilian yips in the distance. They were coming fast and, in this horde, there were not just two. They had narrowed in on a target, and it suggested that it was, indeed, me they were tracking. The squeals in the distance made me jump into action.
There was no time to argue with her. I chased her back to the building and she stepped up to a door, opened it quickly and shooed me in. The door was broken on its hinges. It would never keep them back.
I gasped as I heard the screech of the insect echoing through the alley. Cockroaches scattered as we entered the building and she flipped off the light. Weeds grew up through the tiles, dirt streaked the stairwells. Wires hung from some of the light switches.
She led me to a closet under the stairs and we went inside. “Wait,” I said, as the cat followed. “That’s my cat.”
I whistled, quietly, and the cat snaked inside with us. She dead bolted the door and then quickly spread a line of white powder along the bottom. Light glowed from the bottom of a second set of stairs leading downward.
“Shh…” The girl put her finger up to her mouth. “Just stay quiet.”
We remained still, and the cat mewled as it sensed something coming. I could hear the creatures scurrying. Large numbers of them, and the sound of their clawed robotic feet clicked against the stone ground.
Their claws scratched at the brick walls of the building, rising off the ground as if they were climbing. The sounds of their claws scraping along the walls, and the squeaking of their claws against the glass windows suggested they were searching. The robotic whirring rose to a mechanical hum as what seemed like dozens of them swarmed outside the door.
I gripped onto the little girl’s arm and she motioned to stay still by raising her hand. The cat cowered in the corner and waited. I expected him to take the stairs down, but he didn’t move.
The insects traveled along and when I thought it was over, I let out a breath, and she reminded me to stay still. Be quiet, she gestured with her finger.
An orchestra of clicks, scrapes, whirring and of moving gears flooded the air. The robotic insects circled back in a swarm. The sound rose once more, their claws tore at the walls and scratched at the windows. A robotic alien of a sound seemed to send mechanical messages to one another. They had lost my trail.
When it quieted again, this little girl hurried down the steps, with the cat in tow. I listened before I moved, then dashed down the steps after them.
Into a corridor, she pulled me and hurried to yet another door. She waited for the cat to go through, and then she dead bolted the door. Once again, she spread the powder along the floor. I scooped up the cat as we climbed down a ladder and then we were underground. The tunnels aren’t safe.
The swarm of creatures searched frantically above us. Dust settled in the passage. I remained still and she paused as well.
“They are still looking for me.”
“They know where they lost your scent.” She whispered into my ear, “They will likely do this for a number of hours. Come on. Quietly, now. Tip toe.”
When we were a distance away, the rumbling of the ground faded and then I asked, “How did you ever see me up there if you are hiding underground?”
“The tunnels serve to get us safely from one building to another. We don’t live down here.” She laughed. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“How is that possible?”
“I will let my mom explain.”
She hurried along with the cat and I followed, and I thought about how much she reminded me of the children that were playing in the playground back home. Dark clothes. Durable jeans. Pair of runners. A greasy ponytail suggested a lack of baths in her routine. Her hair spiraled into one big piece, almost glued together.
We reached another ladder leading upwards, and we climbed, again with the grateful cat in my arms. A grate was lifted as we reached the top to give us safe passage to crawl into a house.
Chapter Eighteen
“Found her!” the young girl called out.
“You did! Fantastic!” I assumed this was her mother. “Oh, and a cat, I see.”
The girl’s mother wore a small scarf around her neck and had it wrapped around her chin. When she saw me, she pulled it down. It was torn and stained, but otherwise in a decent shape. She then unwrapped it, and used it to cover her head like
a bandana to keep the blonde frizzy curls from poking her eye.
“My daughter’s name is Amber. I am Ruby. It’s nice to meet you, Saige.” She knew my name.
“The cat has no tail, Momma,” Amber interrupted.
“I see that. He’s obviously been through a lot. Where did you find the cat?”
“In the tunnels.”
“Oh. I haven’t been near one in a decade…not since that disease spread.”
“But you said we had a cat when I was little.”
“We had one when you were an infant but then the animals started to get sick. The vet came and took him because we were afraid the cat would harm you. Since then, animals remain wild; they don’t become pets. They’ve learned to survive on their own.”
“At home, we have a pet store. Families buy cats and dogs and love their pets so much, they become a part of the family.”
“Do you have a pet at home?” Amber grinned at the idea of it.
“I used to have a bird in my book store.” I chuckled to myself. “She was cute but very messy. I just couldn’t keep her. I gave her to a friend. She has an aviary now full of birds.”
“Birds as pets. Really?”
“Uh-huh. We love having animals around.”
“Yeah, our world would not own an animal as a pet. I think most of those in Edgefield are a bit put-off by them.” Ruby smiled at me, but there was disgust laced within.
“Do you find my cat creepy?”
Amber scrunched up her face as if she did, but then she laughed. “No, he’s kind of cute.”
“Is it awful if I want to keep him?”
“You want to keep him?” Ruby asked.
“Yes. He claimed me.”
“It’s true, Momma. It followed her, even though it could hear the creatures coming.”
“I’d like to keep him as a pet like we do at home. Help him find food and water. Give him some love.”
“A pet?” Amber put her hand over her mouth and looked at her mother. “Can we, Mom? I will help!” Before Ruby answered, Amber announced, “I am getting it water!”
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