Shepherds: Awakening

by Damian Connolly

  Though the sky was clear, it felt as if a cloud had crossed over the sun; even the very air seemed drab. She hitched up the coat that she hadn’t been wearing a moment before and started to walk, unable to shake the feeling that she was being stalked, and unable to say by what. She couldn’t even say it was a real feeling; perhaps it was just a reaction to this side. The same brilliant colours were present, albeit muted.

  She took some deep breaths, holding each one for a slow count of three before exhaling, in an attempt to control her fear. All the same, she walked more rapidly. She kept thinking she saw dark flickers in the corner of her eye, only to turn her head and see nothing. After a while, she stopped doing even that, walking with her eyes fixed in front of her. She told herself it was because there was no point in looking for what wasn’t there, but what terrified her was the idea of looking and seeing something.

  Soon, her head felt full of fuzz, like she was operating without enough sleep; everything seemed to pass too quickly to register it. Occasionally, she’d stumble, as if her legs didn’t understand how to work anymore. Thoughts were hard to come by, and those that she managed to fix on, slipped out of her mind too quickly. Was the world getting more and more desaturated? It was hard to tell. It was hard to focus. She shook her head to try and dispel the feeling of being stuffed with wool. Even the air felt denser, dragging at her, pulling at her.

  She shivered; a chill running up her body. The sun was technically shining, but she didn’t feel it. She realised that she’d stopped walking. For how long, she couldn’t tell. She stood there like a zombie, trying to figure out how she’d arrived where she was.

  How much time had she lost?

  Where am I going again? She couldn’t remember. She felt drained, as if knowledge and understanding were being slowly sucked out of her head.

  I was going to do something, I’m sure I was going to do something.

  It didn’t matter. It didn’t seem like anything mattered anymore. Around her, the long grass flowed softly in the wind, uncaring. This would be a good place to just lie down.

  To give up, or just go to sleep?

  She didn’t know, but it didn’t seem important. Lethargy crept into her, her limbs felt cold, and her joints were aching. Perhaps she was coming down with something.

  She looked around her, feeling like someone else was controlling her head.

  Ahead of her, on top of a nearby hill, she saw an enormous tree. She blinked at it stupidly. Had it been there before? She didn’t know how she could have missed it; it looked like everything was pointing towards that tree. The grass leaned in, flowers bloomed around it, and all the other trees and foliage seemed to get out of her way so there was a straight line leading there, as wide as a boulevard. Its leaves were a deep gold, and it exuded weight and age, and just like on the good side of the river, it was vibrant, casting off the pall of its surroundings.

  That looks like a better place to lie down, she thought, but she couldn’t get her legs to move. She knew that if she could just get started, she’d make it, but her muscles didn’t seem to want to respond. It would frighten her normally, but she was too apathetic to care.

  She frowned. I want to go there!

  And like that, she was under the boughs.

  It felt as if she’d been doused in cold water. The fatigue and cloudiness of before drifted away like smoke in the wind. Peace settled down on her, and the paranoia that she’d felt seemed like an amusing dream. Like after waking from a nightmare, she looked back on her behaviour and wondered how she could have been so idiotic, so childish. Of course there was nothing out there - it’d been her imagination all along. It was probably just stress, or remnants of today’s embarrassment. She’d been tired from walking all the way here, nothing more. Under the tree, she felt nothing but contentment.

  She looked up at the branches spreading over her head. From close up, the tree seemed to stretch up to the heavens, so high that she couldn’t make out the top. Much, much higher than it had looked from afar. Surely that wasn’t possible? The space underneath the limbs could fit a large house quite comfortably; the trunk itself was probably bigger than her apartment.

  Now that she had her wits about her, she could see that the tree was visibly, and without question, alive. It seemed to pulse with life; the leaves glowing in time to a massive heartbeat. No, she thought, that wasn’t right. It was the passage of colossal waves of power, to and from the tree. The ground beneath her feet thrummed deeply as they passed every few seconds. The power seemed too much to comprehend. Once, when she was younger, she’d visited an electric power plant, where the very air hummed with lethal potential. That was a mere spark compared to this.

  She had to touch it. Some people are just born like that.

  She walked closer to the trunk, a little unsteady, and pressed her hand to the ancient, crevassed bark.

  THRRUMMMMMMMMM. She backpedalled in shock, whipping her hand back as if it had been scalded, and stuck the tips of her fingers into her mouth to try and still the numbness. Then, like a child that wants to make sure, she tentatively touched it again, this time with her other hand.

  This touch went better; as the wave passed through, she felt the vibrations to her shoulder, but it seemed safe. With the next touch, the effect was less still. She wasn’t sure if the tree was lessening its power for her, or if the initial shock built an immunity.

  To her left, a short way off, the roots of the tree formed a hollow that seemed like it would be the perfect size for a girl like her. She went over and eased herself into it, her back to the trunk. It seemed like it was made for her, it fit her that well. She smiled and relaxed against the bark.

  With more of herself touching the tree, she could sense more about the waves. They started somewhere around the treetop, of that she was sure, came rushing down the trunk, and with a massive push that shook the earth, divided and subdivided amongst all the roots. The roots themselves were innumerous; she could see them in her mind’s eye, stretching beyond the horizon, perhaps circling the world itself. They split smaller and smaller, filling everything, until the smallest was no thicker than a strand of her hair. The wave travelled through each one, bringing with it…life, she assumed. Further and further it spread, with the tree as the epicentre, until it slowed on reaching the ends. Then, it was as if it was sucked back in, speeding faster and faster, each root a tributary to another, until it channelled back through the trunk, this time in the opposite direction, raising the hair on the back of her head as it went.

  Each pulse reverberated through her body, relaxing her. As each one passed, it seemed like the world became clearer, sharper, more in focus. She felt like she could see everything; each individual leaf, each blade of grass, each tiny bump along the surface of the earth. She saw the world in a higher definition than she’d ever seen it before, like she was putting on glasses for the first time.

  She didn’t know where the knowledge came from, but she knew that this tree was important. Probably the most important thing in the world. If something were to happen to it, she was sure the world would just dry up and crumble apart. And it was old. How old, she couldn’t tell. Since the beginning seemed about right, but the beginning of what she wasn’t sure. Earth? Mankind?

  As Aisling sat contemplating this, she noticed one of the branches seemed lower than she’d originally thought, almost within reach in fact. It stood on its own, bearing a single apple. She was suddenly reminded that she was famished. She wondered if it was safe to pick and eat it, then decided that there was no one to tell her otherwise, so she got up, and stretched for it. Her fingers brushed the bottom of the apple, so she had to jump to snatch it. It buzzed faintly in her hand.

  She sat back down.

  Feeling absurdly like she was stealing, she took a bite.

  Holy shit, she thought. It was amazing. Easily the best apple she’d ever had. She took another. Sweet juice flowed down her chin and she wiped herself with her fingers before sticking them in her mouth. The flesh
was tart and the meat was cool and oh so good. She realised she was humming to herself. Each swallow seemed to spread warmth through her body, until she was tingling all over.

  She ate deliberately, savouring every bite, choosing the next one with care. She stripped the apple down to its core, not wanting it to be finally done.

  When she looked up, it was night.

  How had she not noticed it? Had she really been eating an apple - an apple - for so long that the entire day had passed? This was like something out of a fairy tale. Perhaps three hundred years had passed in reality, and she’d wake to find her mother, Jake, Amy, and everyone else that she knew, long gone.

  The air was still as warm as before, and with the comforting cradle of the roots, and the thrum of the tree acting as a massage, she decided that she didn’t want to get up. She was fine right here, thank you very much. She could probably sleep right here, in fact. Deep down, Aisling knew she was already asleep in her bed, but it seemed like she was about to find out if was possible to sleep in a dream. Would she dream in her dream? Deep, man.

  The sky was still clear, and with no lights to drown them out, the stars were out in full force. As she lived in a city, she’d never properly seen them before, and they were, quite frankly, amazingly beautiful. Distant galaxies and gas clouds filled the sky in a humbling display. It was hard to look at that, at the sheer vastness of it, and still think all the day-to-day, petty crap that filled her life was important. One great, clustered streak ran through it all, splitting the sky into two halves; all that she could see of the great wheel that the world spun on.

  She was still looking at it, when her eyes slowly slid shut and she slept.

  She awoke to a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. Bending over her was a wrinkled old man in an old-fashioned suit, a hat in one hand.

  “Ah, you’re the one I’m looking for,” he said.

  Aisling screamed, jumped up, and ran.

  4

  She ran blindly down the hill and into the trees beyond, crashing through the undergrowth, not caring where she was going, just trying to get away. Part of her mind was trying to calm her and tell her it was only an old man, but the rest was seized by panic. Long grass tried to trip her, vines and all manner of hanging things tried to snag her. She ripped her way through them all, sheer force making up for agility. She burst through a gap in between two bushes and stopped, chest heaving. Her lungs and throat burned, and she couldn’t for the life of her seem to get enough air. But that wasn’t what stopped her.

  Where the landscape had been empty before, there were now hundreds, maybe thousands of men, women, and children filling her view, as far as she could see. They sat, relaxing, or wandering somewhat aimlessly, stopping now and then to chat with each other. Where had they all suddenly appeared from?

  The surprise had made her somewhat sensible again, so her initial thought was to back away before any of them saw her.

  Then she noticed the Shades.

  The name was there on her tongue before she thought to question how she knew it. Hovering around each and every person, young and old, was a translucent black form, initially hard to see, but undoubtedly there. Their shapes were blurred and more of a suggestion than anything else, like seeing the shadow of a child under a sheet, projected against a wall. The people didn’t seem to notice them, though she saw more than one person subconsciously make a slight change to their path to walk around one.

  As she watched, she saw one Shade dip down through the head of a young man that it was following. The man’s expression faltered a bit, but otherwise gave no other acknowledgement. The Shade drew its head back, and she knew that it was somehow feeding. The realisation nearly made her throw up. Over there, a toddler no older than three or four was walking around without her parents in sight. The Shade following her dipped in, and the child tripped, nearly losing balance.

  Everywhere Aisling looked, Shades were feeding. Some of the people seemed clear and purposeful, others forgetful and lost. Yet others seemed greyed and indistinct as if they were coming apart and fading from the world. Those poor souls shuffled around, head down. They talked - or perhaps whispered - but no-one seemed to hear them, or pay attention.

  She stood rooted, one hand to her stomach, not sure if she was trying to stop from screaming or hurling. She was at once terrified and horrified.

  Below, it seemed like she’d finally been spotted. A small group of people was pointing up to her and talking excitedly. Gradually, others took notice; those that were alert smiled and nudged each other, while those unfortunate others - the indistinct ones - simply shambled on, or stared at her vacantly. Soon, she was the centre of attention. And not all of it was good.

  The Shades around the first group that had noticed her perked up. One moved its head, and though she heard nothing, she knew it was signalling the rest of them. One by one, the Shades left their charges to stare at her. She could see no faces, pinpoint no eyes, but the feeling of their gaze gave her a cold flush of terror.

  They watched her, ready. They seemed to be waiting for something.

  Her eyes flicked from one to another.

  A Shade broke off from the pack and advanced slowly. She fixed on it, frozen. It turned to look at the rest of them, then slowly swung back towards her.

  As one, they came at her.

  Aisling screamed, causing the faces of the humans to crumble in anguish, and fled back in the direction she’d come.

  She’d never properly grasped the meaning of the phrase “running for your life.” Now she ran as if her very soul depended on it. Wake up, wake up, wake up! she gibbered in her head. Legs that felt like jelly, pumped. She was hit by a double stitch, gritted her teeth and pushed through it. She sucked air into her lungs as fast as it would come. Her skin pricked as her pores opened. Sweat ran down her burning face, stinging her eyes. Her shirt began to stick to her. She pushed herself on and on, though like every nightmare she’d ever had, the air seemed to push against her, wrap around her legs, bind her, trip her. She threw a glance over her shoulder. It seemed like there were hundreds of Shades now, turning the landscape black, steadily gaining on her. She pushed on harder, though she was starting to flag. She needed something to hide her.

  Obediently, trees and bushes rose out of the ground around her, and closed off behind.

  Did I do that? No time to think on it. She looked behind her again. The Shades breezed through the newfound flora as if it didn’t exist. Panicking a bit, she thought of something stronger. A line of flame sprang into life where her heel thudded down and raced out on either side of her. The heat from it beat at her.

  Taller, she thought. The flames roared higher. Two meters, four meters, five.

  The Shades blew through it and the fire sputtered and went out. She gave a miserable cry.

  Again! she shouted at herself, whipping herself mentally to keep going. This time she thought of a block wall, thick as a castle’s battlements. It was harder, as if reality itself was resisting her. She pushed back, forcing the image to take hold, willing it into place. With a snap like a rubber band giving way, the wall appeared, though the blocks were pitted and the mortar flaky.

  It crumbled to sand as the Shades came through.

  She despaired, then stumbled, suddenly aware of how exhausted she was. Creating the obstacles had apparently drained her, and she could barely get one foot in front of her in time before she came down onto it. Behind her, almost on her heels, were more and more Shades, perhaps thousands now. They seemed to be toying with her.

  A few swooped in. She shrieked, batting her hand above her head in a vain attempt to ward them off. They dipped and the world blurred a bit. Misery filled her head, and she felt cold, numb. Again. Why bother to keep running? She was sapped. Again. She’d made a good go at it, but in the end she just wasn’t strong enough. She was never strong enough. Again.

  With a clarity brought on by terror, where life seemed to slow down and crawl, she recognised the feelings and thoughts as the same on
es she’d felt when she originally crossed on this side of the river, though hugely amplified. The Shades had been here all along - the people too - she just hadn’t been able to see them. Had they been feeding on her since then?

  No. There was the tree. She’d felt no fear there.

  I want to go there, she thought.

  Nothing happened.

  She visualised it in her tired mind, trying to remember as much detail as possible. Damn it, I want to go there!

  Nothing happened. She was spent.

  Her legs finally stopped responding, and she crashed heavily to the ground, winding herself. On all sides of her, she could see the Shades flying by, unmistakably triumphant. She blinked as they dipped into her again and again. Muscles trembling with effort, she dug her fingers into the crimson dirt and tried to drag herself along. But the numbness crept through her body, and eventually her arms wouldn’t move. They might as well have been on another body.

  She rolled onto her back. With a supreme mental effort, she encased herself in a glass case, no bigger than a coffin. She solidified it. Pain bloomed in her head. She solidified it even more, realising that she was holding her breath in the process. The pain flared; it felt like a dagger was driving through her skull.

  A Shade dropped towards her, and bounced off the glass. It seemed to be working, though her head was splitting now. They milled over her, blotting out the sun, confused. She snatched a breath, and screamed with the effort of holding the barrier. Spots popped in her eyes, veins pulsed in her temples. She felt like her head was being ripped apart.

  With a final hoarse cry, the barrier cracked, then split, and she flopped back, utterly wasted. She cried softly in frustration.

  The Shades buzzed around her, excited.