The Scourge

by R. Tilden Smith

  She reached the gate and was relieved to find it was unlocked. As she opened it and passed through, a geyser of flame erupted from a pipe with a loud poof! no more than ten feet in front of her. Moji hurried backward, the heat of the fire kissing her face, as blue flames climbed thirty feet in the air. Oh my god! If that happened twenty seconds later I would have been right on top of it. She moved cautiously around the inferno, traveling away from the gate at an angle. Now her mouth was dry and her heart beat unmercifully in her chest, not knowing whether the next pipe she stepped over or passed too close to was going to be her last. She could feel other explosions occurring around the complex, powerful concussions that shook the ground beneath her feet.

  The open door lay just ahead, an ink black rectangular monolith stenciled against the bright red brick of the building's east wall. Thank God I'm almost there, she thought. It felt strange to desire the darkness it offered, to be eager for the comfort of a cold void. But as she got closer, its siren call beckoned, until her urge to be surrounded by it was irresistible. No longer afraid of the blue fire, she hurried to greet the dark, hurdling over and ducking under pipes as she ran. Strange thoughts began to dominate her perception. Even over the chaos of the airborne sound waves that assaulted her primitive eardrums, she could hear—feel—the sweet sine wave of the brood—her brood. In that moment, her purpose suddenly became clear. Our destiny doesn't lie in the conquest of this world, but in its liberation. The primitives must be remade, not in our image, but in theirs. Their souls must be reborn so that the colony can flourish.

  The door loomed before her. She threw herself through it, savoring the darkness that enveloped her. She heard the hungry whine of her children, begging to be fed. They seek rebirth. Her thoughts were awash in an emotion that was unfamiliar and strange [Sadness?] Her fledgling ansible swelled to comfort the cohort. Be not afraid, your queen is near.

  66

  There was no light, but Ray didn't mind, he preferred the dark anyway. I can't see them, but they can't see me either, was his motto. He was in a reclined position, his head resting on something soft, like a pillow. He moved his arms and legs around, just a little, to see if his body parts still worked. They did. When he did this, he felt resistance, and there was a sloshing sound. He lifted his arms up. There was a splash as they broke the surface. I'm lying in water. The water was the perfect temperature, not too hot, not too cold. He brought his hand to his face and sniffed. Lavender, the water smells like lavender. The aroma triggered a memory. I remember when me and my girl Shelly used to treat ourselves to a night on the town. She would wear this lavender perfume that drove me crazy. When we danced, I could smell it on the back of her neck. And later, when we made love, it was there again, just a hint of it, between her breasts. He smiled. “Who knew heaven would smell like lavender.” That was the conclusion he had come to, that this place, wherever it was, had to be heaven.

  “I'm glad you're feeling better,” a voice said. It was a child’s voice. A female child.

  Ray jumped. “Who’s there?”

  “Open your eyes silly, it’s me!”

  Ray knew that voice. “La...Lara? Is that you?”

  “Who else would I be but me!”

  Ray blinked and his surroundings were slowly unveiled, lights brightening like the next act in a stage play. He was in a fairly large bathroom, submerged neck deep in a Jacuzzi-style tub filled with sudsy water. A caramel-colored child in a bright yellow dress—Ray guessed she was about ten years old—with a shiny black, braided ponytail jutting out of each side of her head, was sitting comfortably on the tub deck, playfully fondling the hot water valve near his right foot. She stared at him wantonly, her piercing brown eyes sparkling like whisky-yellow sapphires. Ray was suddenly acutely aware that he was naked. He awkwardly drew his knees together and slowly brought them to his chest. “Where am I?”

  “Well, if you know who I am then you already know the answer to that question.”

  “You sound like Moji's imaginary friend, and I still don't know where I am. I thought this was heaven.”

  Lara laughed. “Heaven! You're crazy!”

  “Yeah, I'm starting to think that I am. If this isn't heaven then what is it? Hell?”

  “No silly,” Lara said, as she jumped off the tub, slid to a stop on the smooth white tile floor, and did a perfect pirouette on the balls of her black patent leather shoes, “this Mo’s bathroom, her secret hiding place. She calls it her sanctuary.”

  Ray shook his head. “I'm sorry, that doesn't make any more sense than it being heaven. How did I get here?”

  “You don't remember? Moji brought you here to rest. She said the bad queen hurt you and made you cry and you went to your hiding place but the bad queen found you and started beating you so you would be scared and she could steal your soul and and and—”

  “Whoa whoa whoa little one, time out! You lost me at bad queen. I need you to take a deep breath and explain all this to me again, but go slow this time. Ok?”

  “Ugh! You’re such a dumb dumb army-man! All that matters is that Moji and the bad thing killed the bad queen and now the bad thing will become the good queen and give everybody their soul back, including the doggies.”

  “What?”

  “Ugh, don't you know anything? Moji loves you so I guess I have to, but your stupidity is making me have second thoughts about our relationship.”

  “Now hold on there little girl!”

  “Little girl! I'll have you know that I am eight and a half years old! Old enough to know stupid when I see it!”

  “Why I should—” Ray went to stand up, getting up on one knee so he could lift his other leg over the tub edge, then remembered that he was naked. He plopped back down into the tub, splashing a significant amount of water onto the floor. “Now look what you made me do!” Get me a towel!”

  Lara, her fists perched on her hips in defiance, stomped the floor with her foot. “I will not get you a stupid towel, you stupid stupid-head! You can drown in that tub for all I care!” She folded her arms tightly around her chest and spun around so her back was to Ray. “I hate you!” she announced.

  The lights flickered, then dimmed considerably, throwing them into near darkness.

  “What you do?” Ray said. “Turn the lights back on.” Ray felt his groin tense when he noticed the expression on Lara’s face. She was backing away from the bathroom door, her face a frozen mask of terror

  “No!” Lara said. Her voice was hoarse, almost a whisper. “You're not supposed to be here!”

  “What? Lara, what's wrong!”

  Lara’s eyes were wide with terror. They were fixated on the bathroom door

  Ray followed her gaze. He watched, mouth agape, as the gap around the door became unfocused. What happened next made his stomach drop.

  The air in the room instantly became unbearably hot, and the smell of rotting flesh filled the space like a wet, humid fog. Ray gulped a mouthful of the sticky, putrid air and retched. As he gripped the side of the tub with both hands to steady himself, the door melted away, and in its place stood the silhouette of a nightmare.

  The memory came crashing back. It's the alien creature—the mutant—from the waste treatment plant. Ray’s mind went wild with panic. The remaining light winked out, leaving them in total darkness. Don't move! he thought. Be still and it will go away. He heard a noise—a tap-tap-tap sound—echoing off the tile floor. The monster was in the room with them. It made no other sound but Ray knew it was very close—he could feel the heat of its breath on his face. The smell made him nauseous and dizzy. He held his breath, terrified.

  “R-R-Ray,” he heard Lara whimper. “You have to tell it to go away. Please Ray, tell it to go away!”

  Christ Lara, Ray thought, shut the fuck up! This fucking thing is going to know we're here! The thing snorted, peppering his cheek and neck with a thick, oily mucus, then it whispered a deep, animal growl into his ear. Ray felt his bladder let go.

  “Ray,” Lara said, speaking in a ha
lting whisper. “I know you're scared. I am too. Tell it to leave us alone. You have to do it or it will take us!”

  Why me? Ray's mind reeled. Why would this monster listen to me? If I open my mouth it's going to kill me, tear me apart just like it did to that good old boy in the parking lot. The monster inhaled and then exhaled. It's hot, wet breath swept across Ray’s cheek. The aroma was nauseating; it smelled of rotting flesh and decomposing earth, of decaying oceans and brine seas. Ray trembled uncontrollably. Jesus! he thought.

  “It lives inside of her!” Lara said, her voice rushed and faint. “You have to make it go away or I will never be...” Her voice trailed off, fading into oblivion.

  Lara! Ray thought, despondent. Come back! Oh god, come back please! Don't leave me here with this thing! Tears rolled down Ray’s face. Suddenly, something warm touched his cheek. It felt rough, like wet sandpaper. Ray gagged as the object slid slowly across his face, pushing a sticky, gelatinous slime up his nasal cavity and into his mouth. Suddenly, the bottom fell out of the tub and Ray was sucked into a whirlpool of water. He kicked and pawed at the turbulence, trying to find the surface as his body tipped and spun out of control—he felt trapped like an repentant passenger on a wild carnival ride. Struggling to breathe, he inhaled—and the taste of lavender and shit stung the back of his throat like a shot of bad whiskey. He screamed as the black water filled his lungs. Then, as suddenly it began, the spinning stopped and his body was still. He heaved and his stomach boiled over, jettisoning its contents through the perforated steel platform of the gangway. “Ugh,” Ray moaned.

  He was lying on his stomach, the flesh on the right side of his face pressed into the steel grated flooring. He licked the residual vomit from his lips and lifted his head slowly, trying to stave off the nausea still lurking in his gut. Vertigo gripped him as he struggled to clear his lightheadedness. The air, heavy with the smell of solvents and sewage, burned his lungs as he took a breath, but he welcomed it, preferring the tingly feeling in his chest to that of drowning in a bathtub of lavender-scented water. Holy shit, he thought, was all that just a dream? He propped himself up on one elbow and blinked rapidly—the air was smoky and it stung his eyes. Of course it was a dream, he thought, I didn't go to heaven, I didn't meet Moji's imaginary friend while wading in lavender-scented bath water, and I damn sure didn't butt heads with one of those disgusting mutants. Hell, I'm not even wet. He took another deep breath and coughed. But damn, it sure felt real.

  A blurred shadow crossed into his field of view then something warm and wet slapped his cheek.

  ”Ahh!” Ray exclaimed and jerked backward, hitting the back of his head on the gangway railing. He rubbed his eyes again and squinted.

  A dog was staring back at him. A big black pit bull with dark, empty eyes. Its tongue was hanging happily out of its mouth.

  “G-G-Good doggie,” Ray stammered. He recognized the dog. It was the same one from the sewer, the bayou, and in the park; it was Moji's dog. Though the dog didn't look as if it was going to attack, Ray sat frozen, afraid any movement would provoke it. What's the dog’s name? Crystal mentioned it, I know she did. Timothy, Tyrone, Trevor, something like that. Tyson! That's it! His name is Tyson. “T-Tyson, right boy? Your name is Tyson?”

  The dog walked toward Ray, keeping its eyes downcast and its head low to the ground.

  “Shit!” Ray shrieked. He scrambled to get away but was unable to slid backward on the steel grate floor. The dog bulled its way forward and pushed its head between Ray's waist and arm, lifting his elbow with its snout and snuggling its nose into his armpit. “W-What do you want? You want me to pet you?” The dog looked up at him, its face fixed in an odd expression of sadness and puzzlement. Ray placed his palm on top of the dog's head, then jerked it back. What is this shit? His palm was covered in a black goo, like burnt motor oil. I've seen this stuff before. It's the stuff that leaked out of those creatures in the park. The dog licked his arm. It's tongue was rough like sandpaper, warm, and very wet. Ray touched his own cheek. “Tyson, you licked me while I was out, didn't you?” The dog seemed to understand. It nudged his chin with its nose. “Ugh! I love you too, now that I know you're not going to maul me to death.” The dog nudged him again, then lifted its head and looked past him, to something going on behind him.

  Ray turned, and his heart stopped.

  About fifty feet from him several dogs—Ray counted five—encircled the remains of the monster of his dream. That can't be real, he thought, nothing like that can be real. There wasn't much left of it. The creature lay face down on the gangway. It had been ripped apart; most of it—its organs, entrails, and it's lower limbs—had fell over or spilled through the grated floor and onto the concrete deck below. The rest of it was scattered around the platform; it looked as though the dog's had fought over parts of it.

  “Holy shit,” Ray with a surprised smile, ”y’all killed it!”

  [She could not be allowed to remake the primitives in her image. To do so would have destroyed the life strand of this world.]

  Ray snapped his head around, looking for the owner of the voice. “Who’s there!”

  A human form emerged out of the darkened doorway. The polluted air made it difficult to see clearly, but he immediately knew who it was.

  It was Moji.

  She bound up the gangway stairs two at a time, fell to her knees, and threw her arms around him. “Oh Ray!” she said, relieved. “I was so worried! I didn't think I would get here in time.”

  “I'm ok babe,” he said, returning the embrace and then pushing away and holding her at arm's length. “How did you know where to find me?”

  Moji shrugged her shoulders then bowed her head. “I...I don't really know baby...I just….”

  A pane of glass in one of the windows shattered. Droplets of glass rained down from the ceiling, exploding in a chorus of wind chimes as they bounced off metal pipes and machinery. The dogs growled in unison, then trotted over to the doorway that led to the exit. Tyson looked back at Ray and Moji and issued a solitary bark.

  Moji grabbed Ray’s hand. “We have to go! It’s not safe here! The fire…”

  “I know, I know” Ray said, “flame and methane don't mix. This building is a giant bomb.”

  “Yes, that's right. We don't have much time.”

  “Ok, help me up,” Ray said as Moji pulled him to his feet. Before she could turn away, he leaned over and kissed her. “I don’t know how, but I’m pretty sure you saved my life. Thank you for that.”

  “Ray, I…”

  “We don't have time to chitchat right now, but I expect a full explanation of all this craziness when our deaths aren't eminent.”

  Moji nodded.

  “Ok, let's go!”

  Ray led Moji by the hand and they followed the dogs out of the building, exiting the way they came in. When they stepped outside, they were met with tornadoes of flame dancing through the air, creating walls of smoke and flame that blocked their view in every direction. Ray wasn't sure which way to go.

  “Follow the dogs!” Moji said, pointing at Tyson, who was leading the pack into a fire free gap between two small sheds that were both engulfed in flames.

  Ray hesitated. He felt the world closing in around him, numbing his senses, forcing him into paralysis.

  “Ray, what's wrong? Baby let's go before we don't have a way out of here.”

  “We can't get through, the fire’s too hot! Can't you feel the heat? It’s too hot!” He was trembling.

  Over the roar of the flames, Moji could hear the dogs barking. She tried to pull Ray away from the doorway, out into the open. “Ray, come on! We have to go!”

  Ray let go of Moji’s hand and retreated back into the doorway's shadow. “No, it's too dangerous!” He extended an index finger and beckoned to Moji. “Baby, come back in here, stay with me. We’ll be safe in here.” He took another step backwards, fell down, then curled into a fetal position. His eyes were still open, but they were blank and unblinking.

  “Ray n
o!” Moji screamed.

  [Ray, wake up. I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But you can't hide now. Take my hand. Come with me.]

  Angel?

  [Yes. Don't be afraid, take my hand.]

  I'm afraid Angel, afraid of the fire! I don't want to go back! I don't want to go back to that hell! Please….

  [I will never forsake you, for you are my true love. Take my hand so that we may ascend out of the darkness and become as one.]

  Ray took the hand that was offered and felt himself being whisked out of his hiding of place of darkness, fear, and despair, to a refuge filled with light, hope, and happiness. Ray's eyes fluttered open and Moji was there, kneeling over him, her hands clasped around one of his. “Moji?” he whispered.

  “I'm here baby,” she said. She was crying.

  “So you're my angel?”

  Moji nodded her head vigorously. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  He sat up. “I'm not afraid anymore. I mean, I don't feel that knot in my gut, that deep-seated fear I’ve carried around since I got out of the army. It's... it's just gone.”

  “I'm glad,” Moji said, smiling through her tears.

  There was a loud bark at the door. They turned to see Tyson standing in the doorway. He was alone. He barked again.

  Moji brushed the tears from her face. “He wants us to come with him right now. We have to hurry or we will definitely burn to death.”

  Ray jumped to his feet. “You don't have to tell me twice. Let's get the hell out of here.”