My shoulder throbbed in pain but I had a new objective now – Ponika. I searched wildly for him and stumbled to my feet, finally spotting a crumpled heap of white further ahead. The deranged attackers lay dead all around him but I saw no movement from my horse, either. I felt the swell of tears as I rushed to him, shrieking his name. I fell to my knees beside him, fearing the worst. As I gazed at his scarred body I saw a glimmer of hope – a short, shallow breath. He was still alive but clearly in pain. I analyzed his wounds- a few light scratches down his sides but one debilitating one seared across his hind leg. The wound was gaping and glowing a slight green – the deranged’s toxins must have gotten their way inside. Ponika would not be able to stand on a leg this infected, let alone walk – this was not good. I patted him gently and whispered soothing words to him while I tried to gather my thoughts. My shoulder raced in pain as I patted my horse and I feared the same thing Ponika would be going through…eventual loss of limb. I could already feel the pins and needles jet down my arm every so often. Whatever I was going to do, I had to do it soon.
I fingered the satchel that lay across my lap, opening it slowly so that the little amount of medicine I had wouldn’t come tumbling out after all that movement earlier. I heard the jingle of containers tumbling against one another and I reached my hand inside, feeling for one canister in particular – a long, slim one that was always warm to the touch. I was starting to worry it had broken somewhere along the way when I finally clasped my fingers around it and gently pulled it out…only to find the lid had been dislodged during my travels. It wasn’t empty, but it was close. I shut my eyes tight, trying to force away the stressful tears that threatened to envelop me.
“Remember this, Ponika?” I held the vial near his face and his frightened, black eyes glanced at it before turning their attention to me. “It’s a panacea. Cures anything – even radiation and rot, I’m sure. Very rare, you know – our Provider only ever gave people one.”
I watched the thick liquid inside the vial as it slowly trickled its way down the sides, sticking to the canister like glue. It was a brilliant silver colour and sparkled when bathed in light. The moon’s soft rays illuminated the panacea and its twinkling essence danced across Ponika’s haggard frame, making his wounds seem even worse in the gloom. I sighed in frustration – this would not be enough for the both of us. With one last fleeting idea I shoved my hand inside my satchel once again and felt the sides, hoping to salvage some of the medicine from its loose confines inside. The walls of the satchel were hard, however – the panacea had dried upon its edges a long time ago. I sat beside my horse and stared absently at the medicine in my hand. I had to make a choice.
Kay and my father would never be rescued without me. I knew how to scavenge, how to take care of myself in the empty world around me. Ponika could find water, sure, but food? How would he be able to dig through the wreckages that litter the towns or know how to prepare something properly for consumption? How would he survive without me? I had always said that this was my journey that I started…and nothing was going to stop me from finishing it. It seemed like the only logical option. I looked up slightly, staring into Ponika’s face and trying to stay as stoic as possible. My only friend in the wasteland…
“I have to do this, boy,” I said in an unsteady tone, “I’m sorry, but there’s no other choice.” I blinked rapidly and tried to focus my thoughts on my next steps; I couldn’t afford to waste the panacea.
I popped the lid off with ease, losing it in the piles of sand around us. It no longer mattered, though. With no sound but my horse’s short breaths in the now still night, I poured a spot of the medicine into my palm. “You know this is for the best…” I murmured to no one in particular.
Then, with one quick motion I slathered the medicine over Ponika’s dangerous wound and he kicked out in pain, barely missing my own knees. “I know, buddy, I know. It’s gonna hurt before it heals. You just gotta relax.”
I rubbed the mixture around the scar and watched as the silver liquid quickly went to work, pouring into the tissue and restructuring it. I took a few more globs and rubbed it around his other scratches, afraid the toxins might try to manifest themselves somewhere else. And that was it – the panacea was now gone. I tried to get a few last drops out of the canister all the same, though. It was a very slow process but I managed to get a small droplet, which I quickly rubbed against my own wound. It tingled slightly and within a few seconds the sensation was gone. What good that might have done, I wasn’t sure, but it was worth a shot. I flexed my arm and while it still felt sore at the shoulder, it no longer felt so numb. I allowed myself to grow hopeful – maybe I would be okay, although the air still ripped at my flesh and caused it to ache in small bursts. It didn’t close up like I had hoped, but maybe the contagion was gone?
Ponika’s breathing started to even out and his wound was almost non-existent now. I smiled at him, but I still had a nagging feeling in my gut. I patted Ponika as he slowly attempted to get up and I tried to will away my bad feeling, but deep down I knew the truth. It was all just wishful thinking – I had resigned myself to death.
Journal Entry #8 ,
With a few scraps of bandages still salvageable in my First Aid kit, I fixed up my shoulder as best as I could. It still throbbed occasionally – usually when the wind picked up – but for the most part, I felt alright…good, even.
I don’t know which direction we had taken off in after the attack. I was taking care of myself as best I could while I let Ponika choose a new route. It had been a long, dreary day; no storms, scarce wind…nothing but the ever-blazing sun to keep us company as we pressed on. There were shadows in the distance, though; figures that I stayed hopeful in thinking were the outlines of a town. Night was nearly upon us when Ponika and I finally arrived at the silhouettes we had seen all day; yet another deserted town. This one, however, appeared to be immaculate; even better than the houses back home, actually. There was no path through the town but merely six large homes on either side of me. They were all identical two-storey homes with white picket fences and a bright green yard out front. My eyes widened in excitement when I noticed the grass but my hopes were quickly dashed as I got near them. It wasn’t real; for some reason they had artificial turf for a yard. Why would someone want that?
“Sorry Ponika; looks like you’re stuck with oats for tonight.” I patted his mane and noticed him tense up at the touch. “You’re alright, Ponika; there’s nothing out here to be worried about.” I assumed he was starting to grow nervous about the oncoming night.
We wandered slowly through the town, taking in each home’s façade. Their resemblance was uncanny; they looked exactly like the homes I had seen on magazine covers back in our town’s library. I didn’t think those homes still existed yet here there were; I had always wanted to own one.
“Well, what do you think, boy?” I had stopped and took in the view around me. “Should we stop for supplies? Can never have too many, you know.” Ponika seemed to ignore my words as he glanced around, his ears pricking up every so often at sounds I couldn’t hear. “Alright, wait here bud; I’ll go see what I can find.” I patted his back briefly and went inside the closest house.
The inside was immaculate. I had entered into a living room with faint pink wallpaper and beige carpeting, with beautiful paintings on the wall of forests and oceans and some framed pictures of children. Yes, that’s right; actual photographs. My heart leapt at the thought of a camera possibly being inside these homes. There was a white sofa across from me and a loveseat to my left, along with fake potted plants in the corners and on the coffee table. Behind the loveseat was the doorway to the kitchen; my first destination.
It was a rather spacious kitchen, though I suppose it only seemed that way because there were no tables or chairs within it. The wallpaper appeared to have some kind of floral design upon it and the floor was made of a pristine white tile. The fridge looked brand new but there was nothing within it and the same went for the shinin
g white stove. The countertops were spotless and a small pile of dishes were stacked next to the sink, with a row of small mugs and plates lining up beside the pile. I was taken aback at first. After finding nothing in the fridge and stove I flung open the cupboards. The majority of them were empty but the ones that weren’t were filled to the brim with goodies. I had stared at them wide-eyed; even the campsite’s supplies could not compare to the mound of food before me. I packed as much as I could into my backpack and prayed I would find this place again in the future. I grabbed a large cup from the counter and tried the tap, not expecting anything and yet getting a full stream of water instead. Rinsing any dust and debris out of the dish I hurried the now full cup out to Ponika; I was sure he would enjoy the ice cold water.
“Ponika!” I called out to him but his attention was continuously elsewhere. “Look what I have for you.”
I had run out to meet him in the centre of the town, excitedly holding the splashing cup out in front of me. As soon as I held the cup to his snout, however, he recoiled and whinnied defiantly at me. I was confused…why didn’t he want water?
“Everything alright, bud?” I held the cup steady in my hands this time and tried to offer it to him again but he backed away and shook his head wildly. Was the dish still dirty, maybe? It looked pretty clear to me…but since when has a little dirt stopped either of us? Perhaps he was still on edge from what happened at the lab…I know I for one was still reeling from it. Patting his back softly, I raised the cup to my own lips instead.
“Don’t worry, Ponika; everything is going to be okay now.” I had barely finished my sentence when my horse went crazy, thrashing around and neighing at me.
“What?” I asked him, lowering the drink. His eyes seemed transfixed on the cup as he calmed himself.
I raised the mug to my face once again and Ponika instantly danced around me again, his head shaking violently.
“Alright, alright…I won’t drink it.” I tossed the cup aside, spilling the water onto the false grass.
Ponika watched it tumble as he calmed in his prancing. I wasn’t sure what was going on but his demeanour was starting to worry me; what exactly happened to him? With my horse still seeming on edge I gave him some water from my bags. Oddly enough, he drank it instantly but still gave the mug on the ground a wide berth.
“I’m going to check for more supplies…” I spoke to him, expecting another reaction but he stared out into the wasteland instead. Grabbing a few handfuls of oats from my backpack I made a small pile on the ground for him to eat from and I left him to his own devices.
I had planned on checking all the homes there and while the thought of a camera was still fresh on my mind, I was curious to see the inside of the other homes around me. With a last glance at my horse I entered the neighbouring house.. It was…eerily similar to the first. It contained the same colour scheme, same furniture with the same layout…even the exact same portraits on the wall.
“What?” I murmured as I stared down the face of a young, brown-haired boy in a photograph. “You were just next door…” I studied his picture carefully; his blue school uniform with his perfectly managed hair and studious expression…yep, this was the same kid from next door, all right.
I scanned the photographs that lay above him and they were the same as well; a woman who I assumed was his mother was placed directly above his head and an older gentleman – a father – lay directly to the right of her. Same placement and same stone-faced people from the previous house. “Why would they have the same…?” I trailed off as I looked up into their eyes; eyes which seemed to watch my every movement.
“Same family…” I eventually whispered. Must be a large and close-knit family that belonged to all these houses; the pictures were probably someone’s daughter, or aunt, or grandson or niece or any other relative under the sun. “Creepy…but it works I guess.”
I smiled slightly at them as I turned and continued on my search for supplies. The kitchen was once again my first destination and I was a little irritated by how similar it was to the previous house. “You even line your dishes the same way? Really?”
The kitchen was exactly the same; the tiles were a faded white and the dishes were perfectly stacked and lined next to the sink, just like the previous home. “I wonder which one will have…” I stopped short as I opened my assumed cupboard and sure enough, mounds of food greeted me. “Huh.” I merely grunted the sound in response to my own thoughts. “Maybe it’s time to see what the second floor has in store.” Slamming the cupboard doors shut, I headed back to the living room and proceeded up the stairs that were embedded into the back wall of the house.
There was a small landing at the top of the stairs that opened up into a very short hallway that appeared to be more like a second floor foyer than a corridor. There was once again a white loveseat that sat next to a small coffee table and fake plants dotted the corners of the room. A rather regal looking bookshelf stood tall on the opposite side of the room but there was nothing within it; not even a stray paper. I shouldn’t have been surprised but I was; why have a bookshelf and no books? Jutting out from the main room were two bedrooms that appeared identical from my spot outside them. I sauntered inside the bedroom on the left and found the room actually lacking in furnishings. There was a large four-post bed in the centre of the room and a dresser near the window that was full of rich-looking clothing for both men and women but otherwise the room felt very empty. The bed, however, appeared immaculate and almost as though it had never been slept in and the clothing that hung inside the wardrobe was spotless. I wasn’t really sure why but I assumed that people must still live here; they must keep the places constantly tidy but it does beg the question; if that’s true then where are they now? I checked briefly near the bed and the two drawers on the wardrobe, looking for anything worth taking but everything was squeaky clean; no camera and certainly no sign of the men I was looking for. I wasn’t ready to give up just yet, though; I entered the second bedroom and by now I was no longer surprised that it was the exact same. The bed, the wardrobe, the positioning and the colours…everything was a perfect mirror of the room next door; even the same shirts and blouses.
“This is starting to feel like a little bit more than just family homes…”
With nothing to show for my scavenging I went back outside and was immediately aware of how dark the sky had become. I joined Ponika and saw that he did not touch the food I had left for him, causing most of it to blow away in the wind. I was a little annoyed at the waste at first but I was mostly just concerned; was Ponika sick?
“Everything alright, boy?” I patted his mane and offered more oats from my bag but he still refused. “You need to eat, buddy…” I continued to pat him as I gave him a once-over. He appeared to be okay – his wounds were completely healed. He was quite alert still, twisting his ears at the slightest gust of wind. I had hoped that it was merely his nerves and that he would calm down once we settled in for the night, which was coming on soon.
“C’mon Ponika; let’s rest up inside for the night and explore the rest in the morning.” I urged him towards the nearest house, hoping he would stay inside with me but he vehemently refused. Something about these houses bothered him but I had no idea why; something that happened while he was gone or before I met him, maybe? I was skeptical of him staying outside but in the end I decided he was smart enough to know how to run from danger. I propped the door to the house wide open just in case though.
Ponika whinnied at me as I left him but I assured him we would be fine. I made my way back upstairs, enjoying the feel of the railing under my hands again; it feels like a lifetime ago when I was last in a real home. As I made my way through the sitting room upstairs, however, something caught my eye; something on the bookshelf. It wasn’t there before…was it? A large purple tome sat perfectly upon the middle shelf. How I could miss such a thing during my original onceover, I’ll never know, but I saw it now; impeccable condition, calling out to me as books always had in
my youth. My heart skipped a beat and I rushed towards it, picking it up gently in my hands as though it would turn to sand at any moment. There was no title and the first few pages were blank. An abandoned diary, I had assumed, until the dark chicken-scratch of someone’s writing jumped out at me after a handful of pages. It was nigh illegible, causing me to squint and study the book meticulously for several minutes.
“Our slaver’s folly?” I mumbled, trying to decipher the letters. It was the only combination of words that seemed to make sense to me. The words were large and emboldened, as though someone tried to name the story that was about to unfold. Numerous marking lay below the title, although to this day I can’t figure out what they could possibly have said.
Flipping the page, a small excerpt in much neater writing greeted me, the only legible paragraph as the story continued on through multiple pages. It was as though the author hesitated in starting…or perhaps didn’t know how to. The letters looped and curled in perfection, in far better penmanship than I – or anyone else in town, for that matter – could ever hope to write like.
And then it went to pot, the letters stringent and confusing as the story rushed to its conclusion. I slammed the book shut and made my way towards the bedroom; this novel would make for perfect reading material before bed, in any case.
I crawled my way under the covers of one of the beds, welcoming the feel of warm sheets once again. Once I was comfortable I helped myself to my canister of water and decided to eat the small bag of chips I had found at the campsite a few days ago; it would be just enough to keep the pangs of hunger away and that’s all I was willing to take from our supplies. As I opened the bag, however, I was certain that I caught a very strange smell in the air, if only for a moment. Unsure of where it came from I sniffed at the bag and smelt nothing unusual. Whatever it was it was no longer my concern as my stomach rumbled at the idea of food. I quickly shrugged it off and tossed a few chips in my mouth. Something about the chips felt…off, though. They didn’t taste right and felt almost slimy in my hands. I looked inside the bag and saw nothing wrong; the chips were a vibrant colour and appeared no different than the fresh bags I had once consumed at home. They still felt strange to the touch, however, so I decided to put them aside and attempt food in the morning with Ponika. I rested my head on the large, soft pillows and slowly opened the violet book that I still had clasped tightly in my hands. Trying to read the rushed writing strained my eyes and so I found myself reading the introduction over and over again, my mind reeling with ideas as to its meaning.
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