She clutched the rods the way she used to grab the bars of her Haven, and closed her eyes. A wish formed in her mind, a wish that she would open her eyes and find herself back home, holding the door of the Haven and waiting for Dad to wake up and let her out.
Wisp took a deep breath and sent her wish into the nowhere.
Her eyes opened, revealing the same broken hunk of concrete and road full of debris.
“I’m too old to believe I can just magic myself home.”
Continuing down the road, she spent as much time looking down to avoid stepping on dangerous things as she did peering up at the broken skyscrapers, still a staggering height into the air. Here and there, motion attracted her eyes to bits falling, some small, others large enough to send a person straight to the Other Place if they landed on them. The bigger ones made such loud crashes when they hit the ground that she jumped every time.
“I should not stay here long.”
The mournful moan of the wind got the hairs on the back of her neck standing up and gave her goosebumps. It sounded too much like the cry of sorrowful spirits she’d expect to hear in the Other Place. With all the broken buildings, this ruin offered so many places to hide, marauders could attack her from any angle with little warning. Her best advantage seemed to be not having shoes, since her feet made no noise at all on the ground. Then again, since she had yet to see one marauder with a gun, perhaps the rifle offered far more of an advantage than her lack of footwear. The two who tried to grab her didn’t understand guns… one even called it magic. Wary, nervous, and at the verge of shivering from fear, she continually pivoted about so no marauders could sneak up on her again.
The roads in this strange slice of the ancients’ world formed a grid. At almost every point where two intersected, she found a pile of mashed-up cars. Some even looked like SUVs. A few had flipped, others had hit each other with so much force she couldn’t tell where one car ended and the next one started.
“How dumb… Why did they make the roads cross like that? Everyone drove into each other.”
The Fire Dragons had been here, of that she had no doubt. Only creatures that powerful could have smashed these enormous structures like flimsy twigs. No one knew how to build such things anymore, to shape the stone to their will, or wrap it around metal. Everywhere she turned, she couldn’t help but wonder what the place had been like in the before-Earth. There had to be so many people here in a city like this, too many for her mind to imagine. She understood numbers to a point, but the nine or ten people in the same room with her at Zen’s represented the most other humans she’d ever been around. Trying to comprehend in terms of thousands or multiple thousands resulted in blankness. Still, she couldn’t help but feel like eyes followed her every step. Though their remains had been vaporized, this broken city was a shrine to an amount of people she could not fathom.
And her skin prickled as though they all followed her.
Ghosts she could deal with. They wouldn’t do much to her but perhaps speak if they became really angry. Marauders, on the other hand, presented a much more significant problem. Zen believed they had taken Dad, so that made them all monsters. He’d told her she should always try to run from danger, but that had been before they took Dad.
If she saw a marauder, she’d send him to the Other Place sooner than talk.
Few people understand how to use these weapons, said Dad in her mind, words he’d spoken to her nine-year-old self. Most don’t even know something like this is possible. But, they won’t last forever. Someday, I will run out of powder, and they’ll stop working.
She squeezed and relaxed her grip on the rifle. Twenty shots left. Forty more in the backpack. More than enough to help Dad. Even if she had to use up every last one, she’d do it. We can survive without guns that work. I can’t survive without Dad.
Except… she had, for a little more than a week.
“Shut up,” she said to herself. “That’s a bad thought.”
Bright red and green attracted her to a door beneath a sign reading 7-Eleven. Huge openings on either side of the entrance had rings of glass teeth embedded in metal frames. At one point, they had most likely been enormous windows, but had smashed so long ago, not a single trace of broken glass remained on the street in front of the place.
She ducked through the bottom portion of the door into a smallish area full of metal row shelves. A counter on the left stood in front of a wall full of little cubbies. The ceiling had collapsed inward, crushing some of the shelves on the right side and blocking off a good portion of the space inside. One small gap near the floor appeared wide enough for her to fit, if she dumped the backpack. Curious, she slipped out of the pack, set it aside, and got down on her belly to stick her head into the opening. The collapse had walled off one corner of the old room. The area behind it held a lot of rubble, as well as a few white paper boxes. She shimmied into the hole, getting stuck when her canteens hit concrete.
“Ngh!” She grunted, reaching forward, trying to get her fingertips on one of the boxes.
The papery substance broke on contact, crumbling at her touch.
Grumbling, she unclipped the canteen belt and pulled herself in deeper.
Her hand tore the box like a cobweb, revealing ten bright yellow objects with a shiny, transparent outer layer. She picked one up and turned it so the printed lettering faced upright.
“Twinkies. Snack cakes.” She squeezed her fingers a little, compressing the spongy thing.
Characters in the books often ate cake, but it hadn’t been described as little oblongs like these… more a giant wheel that got cut into triangles. Still, she knew ‘snack’ as a small meal, and cake as something to be eaten, so she shrugged and chomped down on it.
The clear outer layer crinkled, and tasted horrible. A hint of sweet leaked past it, but she still spat.
“Bleh.”
She cocked her arm back to throw the nasty thing, but hesitated when she looked at the top of another box. The cake there didn’t have the shiny clear skin around it.
Maybe I’m supposed to take that off first? Like peeling the potatoes.
She fussed with her knife, but scraping it across the Twinkie didn’t do much but make the outer layer crinkle. The blade couldn’t seem to get a grip on the slippery skin. On a whim, she bit into the clear part, but used her teeth only to get a grip, then pulled. The membrane broke open, exposing a sweet-smelling, sticky bread-like substance. She sniffed it, liked what her nose thought of it, and jammed it in her mouth.
“Ooh.”
Five Twinkies later, she couldn’t bear to think of eating another. However, she did gather all four boxes and push them out the hole. After getting her canteen and backpack on again, she roamed the place, hunting for something to help carry all the loose Twinkies in, since the pack had zero space left and those old boxes fell apart at the slightest touch. She eventually located a plastic bag behind the counter, in which she packed the amazing food bars. No way would Dad ever believe anything like them existed unless she brought him one.
He could have some.
Or one.
Maybe.
If any remained by the time she found him.
Wisp left the 7-Eleven after tying the plastic bag on one of the canteens so it hung at her side, freeing both hands for the rifle. She checked the Mother Twig again, which pointed toward another intersection. The street became increasingly dense with debris. She slowed to a careful creeping gait to avoid ramming her toes into concrete chunks or stepping on ouch. She climbed up on one of the dead cars to bypass a wash of broken glass in the road, and walked over it to the trunk end. From there, she jumped a small gap to the next old car, stepped over its missing rear window, and crossed the roof to the front. Wisp navigated another four cars in a series of leaps and hops before her safe path ran out of vehicles. She perched on the last hood and gingerly extended a leg to a clear patch of street.
Fortunately, the minefield of sharp debris thinned out two blocks later where t
he skyscrapers on the right side gave way to a giant open lot full of dead cars parked in neat rows. If they hadn’t all been partially melted and mostly flattened, it would’ve been an amazing sight. Beyond them stood a gigantic cabin, wider even than any of the high-rises, though it only had one story. She padded across the street into the lot, weaving among the cars in search of any ‘buggies’ or anything that might lead her to Dad.
A flurry of barking startled her rigid. Once her heart resumed beating, she swiveled to the right, raising the rifle at a group of six animals all standing around an old man who sat on the ground by the huge cabin’s doors, gazing off into the sky. Giant lettering in the window read, “Weekend Special – All Deli 50% off.”
“Hello?” asked Wisp.
“Oh, calm down you lot,” said the old man. “It’s a child. It’s all right, little one. These mutts won’t hurt you.”
Mutts… dogs? Those are dogs? The smallest didn’t look much bigger than a rabbit, while the largest could probably carry her around if she sat on its back. The rest ranged between them in size. While the tiniest one kept barking and yapping at her, the others appeared to understand the guy and settled down, but kept staring at her. One or two whined.
“Have you seen any buggies?” asked Wisp.
“I’m afraid I haven’t seen much of anything, child,” said the man. “My eyes don’t work so good.”
She crept closer, holding her rifle sideways, pointed down. “You’re blind?”
“That’s a word I haven’t heard in a while. Yep. They crapped out on me a couple years ago. Guess I shouldn’t have drunk that gasoline.” He cackled, slapping his knee.
“There’s no gasoline anymore,” said Wisp. “And it’s for cars.”
“Oh, you know quite a bit little one. How’d someone your age ever hear of that stuff?”
“Books,” said Wisp.
The man chuckled. “Well, since you’re a smarty, it’s not gasoline. It’s alcohol. Them buggies run on high-test booze.”
“So you’ve seen… umm. You know where I can find the buggies?”
The tiny dog finally stopped barking and contented itself with growling at her. Two of the medium-sized ones approached, sniffing at her legs.
“You prob-lee don’t wanna do that. Them ’rauders ain’t gonna be to kind to a li’l one.” He patted the curb beside him. “Sit; do an old man a favor and talk a bit?”
Wisp let out a startled squeal and jumped forward when a cold dog nose went up the back of her skirt and touched her rear end. “I’m trying to find my Dad, but I’ll talk to you for a little while.” She hurried over and sat beside him, but a little farther away than where he indicated.
“How’s a little girl come ta be out here on her own? What is your name?”
“I’m Wisp. If you can’t see, how did you know I’m a girl?”
He grinned, flashing his three remaining teeth. “When the eyes stop workin’, the ears get better. Sound o’ yer voice. If a boy sound like you, voice wouldn’t be comin’ from as tall. You like my city?”
“It’s scary, and there’s dangerous rocks falling all the time.” She shifted her weight from leg to leg, unsettled by the way this man kept staring into the sky, not even turning his head toward her. “What is your name?”
He smiled. “I am Pablo. That crap don’t fall here.”
She scrunched up her face. “It’s not crap falling, it’s big rocks. Not poop.”
He cackled, startling the dogs.
A shaggy one wandered over and licked her foot. She cringed, resisting the urge to giggle. More slimy tongues attacked her face. Wisp petted them, doing her best to divide her two hands over four dogs.
“There’s plenty o’ poop ’round here thanks ta my friends.”
“Were the ancients stupid? All these roads run into each other, and there’s cars crashed everywhere.”
“Oh, they been there forever. I think when the fire came, everyone panicked and tried to get out the city as fast as possible. But there wadn’t no time. If I’d been around back then, I’d have just sat back and waited. Only difference bein’ if ya die scared or at peace. Dead either way. Can’t outrun the fireball. So, my turn. Why are you here alone?”
She kept skritching the dogs enough to come close while explaining about Dad and trying to find him. A smallish dog with short hair rolled on its back in front of her. Wisp grinned at it and rubbed its belly. Upside down, the dog stretched its head to lick her leg above her ankle. Oh. This dog must be a boy.
“Hmm. I’m sorry you’ve had such a bad time of it, Wisp. You know you’re too young to be alone. If you’d like to stay here, my friends and I will look after you.”
He can’t see. How can he even look after himself? “Thank you, but I have to find my Dad. Can I help you at all? How do you eat? There’s no plants here.”
“Oh, my friends here take care of that. There are so many rats beneath us. They hunt and bring me enough to keep going.”
“Rats… small. Furry…” She scratched her head. “I think. I’ve never seen one for real. Only in stories.”
Pablo grinned, again showing off his three teeth. “Can you read, or did that father of yours read to you?”
She smiled. “I read. The window behind you says weekend deal, deli fifty… not sure what that letter means, off.”
“Which letter?”
“It’s two little circles with a line between them.”
“Humm.” He scratched his head. “Not sure either. Ain’t common to run into people who can read.”
She bowed her head, sensing the tears before they started. “Dad taught me how to read.” Eyes closed, she took a deep breath to control her sorrow, then stood tall. “I need to find him.”
“I can’t rightly stop you, seein’ as how I can’t see… but a young girl ought not to be anywhere near marauders if ya know what’s good for you.”
The dogs groaned when she stopped petting them. She gave in to the pleading stares and squatted to skritch them a little while longer.
“Thank you for being nice, but you wouldn’t be able to protect me from marauders either. I won’t let them catch me.”
He sighed and waved dismissively. “All right. No one ever listens to old Pablo anyway. No one ’cep my friends.”
The biggest dog made a soft, labored moan and rested its head in the man’s lap. He smiled, vacant stare still on the sky, and patted the animal’s head.
“I should go. It will be dark soon and Mother might get upset with me for being wasteful with time.”
“Be wary, child. Marauders are not to be trusted.”
She stood, hefting the rifle. “Yes. I don’t trust them. And I won’t try to talk to them.”
Leaving the old man to his dogs, she stepped around the smaller animals and crossed the field of cars again. All had been so flattened by the Fire Dragon’s wrath that she couldn’t even tell if any of them had become shrines.
The word ‘dead’ circled her thoughts. Zen had used that term, but she’d never thought of Mother in that sense. Dead implied nothingness, an end… like what had happened to this city. People went to the Other Place when their bodies stopped working. Monsters died.
Wisp navigated the streets of the ruin, checking the twig once again to ensure she traveled in the right direction. Daylight waned in a gradual march toward darkness. Soon, she walked into a breeze, the air cooler than the road beneath her feet. This mess of concrete and warped metal had few plants she could eat. Aside from the occasional yellowgreen growing in a crack, she found inedible weeds or grass. At least she still had Lijuan’s dumplings and some Twinkies.
Worse, she hadn’t seen any more water. With one and a half canteens left, she debated going back to Zen if she couldn’t find any water within a few hours of sunrise. Soon after she began to search for a sheltered place to spend the night, a yellow sign marked ‘Petco’ caught her eye. Padding around scrap metal and concrete shards, she made her way across the street, climbing a huge crumpled car to get
to the ‘people road’ in front of it.
The glass wall had long since disappeared, allowing her in. On her right, a row of cube-shaped hollows ran along the wall, each with a barred door.
“Havens!” She gazed at them in wonder, as well as a more distant room with even smaller ones, probably for babies. “The ancients must have feared Tree Walkers, too.”
Wisp ran to one of the larger havens. She set down the rifle and wriggled out of the backpack before crawling into the space. The cramped interior forced her to curl up with her knees mushed into her face and her feet twisted inward. Canteens dug into her back most uncomfortably.
“Hmm.” She grasped the barred door, noting a plastic sleeve containing yellowed paper hanging on it. “I can’t sleep like this… and I don’t have the opener.”
A momentary thought of how she’d felt back home, trapped inside the Haven before she got the opener, made her shiver. Closing that door would be a bad idea. Grunting, she grabbed at the edges and pulled herself out of the cramped space, crawling onto the floor before sitting back on her heels. The sign on the bars read, ‘Labrador, 8 mo.’ The haven to the left had a similar sign marked, ‘Dachshund 6 mo.’
“Huh…”
She whined at not being able to get into the havens, and stood, deciding to search the rest of the room. One part had shelves full of glass boxes, each containing a layer of brightly colored pebbles. Some had tiny fish skeletons in them. Past that, she found four huge havens, big enough for her to stand up inside, but their doors didn’t appear capable of locking and the bars felt flimsy. They all contained the skeletons of huge birds.
“Parrot?” asked Wisp, reading the sign.
The smaller havens had signs like ‘calico,’ ‘Siamese,’ and ‘domestic short hair.’ She bypassed them since she couldn’t possibly fit inside, and those, too, didn’t appear to be able to lock with a key, only a sliding bar anyone could open.
The Forest Beyond the Earth Page 20
