Deserted

by L. M. McCleary

  “The following is an eyewitness account of our descent into slavery…” I started, whispering the novel’s contents to nothing but the empty room about me, “…and how one man showed us how our only path to redemption was through seething vengeance. I am one woman in a crowd of hundreds, but through our misery we are united. Let this be a lesson to you all.” A chill ran through my spine when I read it aloud and I felt the sensation in the pit of my stomach. The words could mean anything, sure, but…why was I filled with such dread?

  I closed the book and tucked it into my backpack, hearing bags of food crinkle in the quiet air as I squished it deeper into the bag. Whatever it meant, I knew I had many more days in the wasteland to figure it out. For now, I wanted rest. I closed my eyes and let my head become absorbed by the soft pillow, enjoying the warmth of the blankets and the comfort of a bed with a smile on my face; this was definitely something I missed from back home. It didn’t take long for my fatigue to catch up with me, but it didn’t take long to wake, either.

  The screech was deafening and woke me with a start. I looked around frantically, still half asleep and gathering my bearings. It was dark but I still knew something was wrong by the sharp pain in my back. As my eyes adjusted I saw broken boards all around me and I was sprawled out on top of even more, with a thin sheet stretching out under me. I was lying in a heap of limbs on top of sharp and frayed pieces of what were once a bed and my back had been pressed sorely against what looked to be parts of the headboard. As I attempted to shift my frame I noticed the wreckage to my right. What was once a beautiful dresser was now a broken relic of what it used to be; its doors were unhinged and the clothes inside were tattered and dirty. As I tried uncomfortably to get up from my spot I could have sworn I saw spiders crawling upon the ruins around me. Could spiders really still exist, too? It was a fascinating thought of just what could still survive in the wild desert but I had no real time to think on it as I heard Ponika’s desperate cry in the distance.

  I leapt from the heap beneath me, tripping over the broken boards and the torn sheet that had wrapped itself around my ankle. I heard more shrieks from somewhere outside as I shook my foot free and I stumbled to the doorway, my head pounding yet I didn’t know why at the time. I rested briefly at the doorframe and was certain I saw someone run past me; someone dressed in blue. My eyes were still heavy and my head quaked with pain so I was unsure if I had really seen something or not as I carefully scanned the room before me. While I found no one I was shocked at what waited for me in the now decrepit foyer. The white loveseat was now in two pieces and covered in filth. I could hear the buzzing of an insect upon its cushions but I had no idea what. The floor of the room was caved in at places, exposing the kitchen below and the splintered boards of the floor’s foundation rose up at me from every hole. As I did my best to sidestep the now rotted floor I felt my backpack start to slow me down; it suddenly felt much heavier than usual. Leaning carefully on the arm of the broken loveseat, I whipped my backpack off me and quickly peered inside. The stench alone was enough to wake me up and I pulled out what used to be the food I had taken from the kitchen downstairs. Their containers were now full of a brown sludge that a myriad of bugs crawled through. My knapsack had sopped up the disgusting liquid, leaving me no choice; I had to leave it behind. The sludge had seeped into the food I had found at the campsite and the books I had with me were covered and ruined. Thankfully, I kept my journal and pens in a separate compartment on the front. It felt like the only thing I had done right in my journey so far. I grabbed them and tossed my backpack into the gaping hole in the floor, watching it tumble down and slide on the tile below. As I attached my pens to my belt, another screech echoed through the walls and I clutched at my head; the pain was becoming unbearable and my ears were now humming. I lurched out of the room and towards the top of the stairs, clutching my journal tightly. My head was spinning, however, and I crashed shoulder first into the stair’s railing as I tripped over myself. I stumbled to my feet again but lost my balance from the sudden vertigo and tumbled down the steps, landing face first into the damp and stained carpet at the bottom. I laid there for a moment, trying to catch my breath as I struggled to grasp my journal that had flung against the wall in my fall. My head quaked and my hands started to tremble as I slowly reached out to my diary. It took all the effort I could to slide my head to its side, moving my face away from the filthy carpet. That’s when I saw the woman from upstairs; three of them, actually. They were definitely spirits of some sort, with a blue aura about them and long billowing hair. Banshee is the word that came to mind; I had once read a folklore describing very similar apparitions. Two of these banshees flew through the walls, oblivious to me but the one nearest the front door stared me down as I pulled my journal towards me. Keeping eye contact with the woman I struggled to my feet, unsure of what to do; it was standing between me and the doorway. We stood there for a minute, watching each other as I found myself sweating profusely; the effort to stay conscious was more than I had originally realized. Suddenly it howled at me, its face twisting into a maw of sharp teeth and a long reptilian tongue that flickered out towards me. My head felt about ready to burst as I stumbled into the wall at the sound and found myself unable to move. I panted heavily now, unable to focus my thoughts. I slowly raised my eyes again towards the banshee and I saw Ponika through her ethereal form; he was standing at the doorway to the house, whinnying at me as spirits whirled around him in the street. I staggered forward, the spirit still staring me down with her small, beady eyes. I was careful with each step, watching the woman’s reaction with every exaggerated movement I made forward. She watched me with angry eyes but did nothing as I continued. With only a few mere steps away I thought I was in the clear and pressed myself onwards, causing her to finally lunge at me. I hit the ground fast, causing the apparition to disappear into the wall behind me. I jumped to my feet in an instant, ready to make a run for it when I noticed the banshees were now gone…but I was far from alone. Had he always been sitting there? If he was, I never noticed. Was he even really a ‘he’? With the screeching wails seemingly far off, in another world, the being on the couch spoke to me.

  “Give it back.” It grumbled. Its back was turned to me as it sat precariously on the edge of the now destroyed sofa, its head aimed towards the floor. All I could do was stare in horror at its pale complexion and spotty hairline. Then suddenly it was standing; I’m not sure how, but the creature seemed to almost teleport in its movements, instantly changing direction without turning. Its face was hollow, its eyes sunken; it once was a man, but what was it now? His gaze bore into me, frightening me more than the banshees had. Do I make a run for it, or would that only make things worse? I swallowed hard, clutching my journal so tightly that my knuckles turned whiter than the apparition before me.

  “You have something that belongs to us,” it murmured, its voice low and raspy, “give it back.”

  I could only shake my head in confusion. What did I have? The book, maybe?

  I glanced towards the hallway that led to the kitchen, my thoughts running rampant. Did this thing write it? Yet, the book mentioned a woman…and besides, I didn’t have the book anymore; I didn’t have anything. If he knew I had it to begin with, wouldn’t he know it now lay in the kitchen?

  What do I do? “I-I don’t know…” I started. “The kitchen…the book is in there.”

  “Don’t play dumb with me!” It screeched and was instantly beside me, its twisted tendrils of fingers clasping around my neck and forcing me against the wall. I was suddenly frigid, my entire body shaking as my warmth evaporated into thin air. I could feel icicles forming along the hairs on my arms. I tossed my head sideways, afraid to look into the rotting mass of face before me.

  “Give it back!” It shrieked again.

  With a racing heart and squinted eyes, I finally found my words. “I don’t have it!” I cried out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  His hand slowly retreated from my n
eck and I felt my own body heat start to return. I could only glance meekly at the creature assailing me, wary of its next move. Much to my surprise, its hand reached out and gently wrapped around a stray piece of my hair. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” And then he tugged, ripping my hair and pulling my head towards his chest. “This! You know exactly what this is!” He continued to tug, tossing my head around as he clumped my hair within his gnarled fingers.

  I tried to look at what he was seeing, to figure out just what lay in my hair that had the man so infuriated, but it was difficult to tell with how wildly my head spun and how dark the room was quickly becoming. During a brief moment of stillness, I stared at the bewildered man and the mass of hair in his hand.

  Ash.

  I saw only ash and the dirt of the wasteland entangled into my hair. Did he think I started some kind of fire? “It wasn’t me!” I choked out. “I didn’t do anything!”

  The creature heaved in some kind of laughter, causing rancid breath to wash over my face and bring back the queasiness I had felt earlier. It smiled at me and started to speak when Ponika’s howl disturbed his thoughts. He let go of my hair and glanced through the doorway at my horse that paced impatiently outside.

  Feeling no other option, I bolted.

  I was on Ponika’s back in an instant and my horse wasted no time in fleeing. The man’s voice echoed on the wind, however, and I looked back foolishly as he appeared in the streets. “You and your hellish horse can rot!” He cackled and with a quick movement of his arm, the banshees around us swooped in.

  They were everywhere; I couldn’t count how many had emerged from the houses, flying fast and wailing loudly. They followed after us as we rushed to escape, going right through Ponika’s hind quarters as he nipped at the spirits on our sides. They couldn’t touch us or us them, but their wails were enough to drive someone to insanity. I did my best to cover my ears as I trusted Ponika to guide us to safety.

  I don’t even know where I am at the moment. The wind is blowing strong and with it comes a very strange smell; one that reminds me of the northern trail back in Salvation. I am currently gathering my energy next to a large boulder; there are quite a few strewn about around here that are shielding me from the blowing sand. Ponika is standing close by, seeming to guard me still. Did he drop me off in the safest spot he could find? However I got here, I know it was with Ponika’s trust and guidance. I must have blacked out from the throbbing pain in my skull as I don’t remember how I got here; I merely awoke here with Ponika’s worried snout sniffing frantically at my face. I still feel exhausted and there’s a slight pulsing still left in my head. My skin feels clammy to the touch; I may have stopped sweating but it has definitely done its damage already. I had instinctively reached for my canister and was momentarily confused when I couldn’t find it. My backpack…my canister was sitting in the side pocket when I tossed it. My stomach dropped at the thought; now is not the time to be dehydrated.

  I will have to start moving again soon; all our supplies are gone and I won’t last long without water. I have to start from scratch now but with only a fraction of the strength…I can only hope to be able to write again soon.

  Journal Entry #9 ,

  Ponika and I had trotted along the makeshift path of boulders as I struggled to regain my composure. My stomach had tossed with each step Ponika took; it rumbled and heaved relentlessly until I forced myself from my horse’s back. I stumbled as I fell off of him and it took me a while to drag myself to my feet. Ponika still stood firmly beside me, allowing me to use him as an anchor to balance myself. I leaned against him and barely drudged myself forward; I think Ponika moved me more than my own two feet. The nausea wouldn’t go away and I constantly felt as though I had a lump in my throat; I was sure that I was about to lose my lunch at any moment. As we slowly trekked along a sudden glow appeared in the distance; an aura of a bright green substance, similar to what emanated from Krastanov’s lab. Ponika had come to a slow stop and I stared ahead with halted breath. My vision was becoming more blurry the more I looked at the strange hue and I rubbed my eyes fiercely. As I wobbled on my feet I noticed a few figures on the horizon; there appeared to be someone – or something – wandering around in the light ahead of us.

  “Stay here.” I squeaked the words out between gasps of shallow breath as I hobbled my way towards the hue. “Hello?” I called out and I saw figures skitter in the distance.

  I tried to inch forward but I found my eyes had become even worse; I could no longer focus on anything around me and I had found it difficult to tell if I was hallucinating or not. I collapsed to my knees as my head started to pound and an acrid stench filled my nostrils; they had only gotten worse as the seconds ticked by. My vision blurred as I grasped the air around me, trying desperately to find another boulder to lean against. And yet, even through my deteriorated vision, I tried to focus on the glow in the distance. Surely it was only more of those deranged ones nearby; what else could live so close to what I could only assume was radioactivity? But…how could I really search for my boys if I refused to look? What if…what if my father had become one? My mind was made up – I had to know.

  I dragged myself across the sand towards the nearest fuzzy obstacle. I draped my fingers over its cool stone and sighed in relief as I leaned against it. The shade, I hoped, would help alleviate my pain. I leaned my head against the stone behind me and closed my eyes as Ponika wandered towards me, enveloping me with his own wide shadow. As I tried to regain my strength a surge of sharp pain seared through my shoulder and I grabbed at my wound involuntarily, clutching it tightly in my other hand. The first of many mistakes: I only made matters worse as my shoulder throbbed even harder at my touch. It shook uncontrollably under my hand, its spasms worsening by the second. And yet I didn’t want to let go, afraid that the air and sun would somehow make it worse. I soon had no choice.

  The feeling in my stomach had finally migrated and I knew I had only seconds before I vomited all over myself. Lurching to my feet I stumbled towards the boulder’s backside and heaved heavily, barely missing my feet in the process. But now I no longer cared; I just wanted to sleep.

  I dragged myself across the boulder and back to my sitting position, groaning and swallowing hard in the process. I leaned against the cool stone and prepared to rest when I realized I no longer felt pain. I could barely see my arm but its outline still twitched emphatically, dancing around in the sand beside me. I was drenched in sweat; beads trickled down my limb, making my now miscoloured skin appear almost reflective when the sun touched it. That couldn’t be right, though…if I was sweating, then why did I feel so cold? I casually wiped the hair from my eyes, realizing for the first time that it clung to me in a sticky heap. My skin felt frigid and clammy under my fingers and my clothes suddenly felt so constricting, clinging to me uncomfortably, yet I felt too cold to remove them. I sat there, tired and confused, trying to focus on anything but the knot of fear that was welling up in my stomach.

  “I just…need a minute, Ponika. I’ll go look in a minute bud, then we can continue on.” I patted him gently with my left hand, surprised by how drained such a small action made me feel.

  I closed my eyes and must have fallen asleep, though it couldn’t have been for long. The anxiety I felt earlier had passed, at least, but I no longer cared. I was exhausted and just wanted it all to end…regardless of just what exactly that meant for me.

  “Ponika…” I whispered. “You need to go, buddy.” I attempted the best hug I could with him, then drew away. I felt oddly peaceful now; the future didn’t seem quite so scary anymore. “I…I don’t think I’m going to make it.” Finally putting words to it didn’t bother me as much as the thought had earlier. “You need to go – find a way home, Ponika…or the Utopia I failed to get to. Just…something, anything! But you can’t stay here.”

  I closed my eyes, ready to accept what I had gotten myself into when the shuffling of Ponika’s hooves caused me to look back up and se
e that he had merely moved closer to me. He stared at me intently. “Go!” I tried to yell out but my voice faltered and cracked. I didn’t bother repeating myself; my body cried for rest.

  And then my horse was there, sitting in the shadows next to me. I sighed quietly. If he wanted to stay until the end, then so be it. I closed my eyes for the last time, focusing on my breathing and the comfort of Ponika. I could still hear my arm convulsing on the hard sand but I knew it had slowed in its thrashing. I fell deeper into the heavy embrace of darkness until my thrashing finally ceased, allowing me to succumb, at last, to my weariness.

  I failed. Dad…Kay…wherever you are, please forgive me.

  *

  I thought I heard words in the darkness. Voices, somewhat familiar, yet cloudy; like I was swimming in an endless ocean, swept up by the torrential current. The voices felt far away, if they were there at all. And then I felt something touch me. Wait – or did I? I felt paralyzed, my mind muddy. But I think I heard a conversation around me.

  “We’re not supposed to do this.” It sounded somewhat feminine, but garbled.