The Change: Life

by J. C. Nichols

  Maxx whined at our side. I reached down to pet him but was blocked by my daughter’s slender hand as she ruffled his head. "It's OK, boy. We're not fighting. Mom's just being stubborn."

  "You know, you're supposed to be my dog, Maxx," I said as I looked down at him, a quasi-stern look on my face.

  Ivy shot me a look. "He's no one's dog, mom. He's a member of our family."

  I laughed, my stern look evaporating. "You know, you're pretty smart for a 13-year-old. Now if you want to make it past 13-"

  A movement in the distance caught my attention, and I instinctively pulled Ivy behind me and drew my gun. It was something – someone – behind one of the buildings that comprised the small strip mall. Ivy knew enough not to say anything, and carefully pulled her machete from its sheath. Even Maxx quieted and pressed against me. I could feel that we were not alone. So, of course, I did what any self-respecting 29-year-old with sole custody of an armed teenager and aging dog would do, I investigated the movement...

  *

  There was, of course, nothing there. Part of me knew that whoever or whatever it was would be long gone before we got to the place where I saw the movement. Ivy made a small sound of relief and sheathed her machete, but I kept my gun drawn. Something still did not feel right about this.

  "Mom, you're bleeding. Like, a lot."

  I looked at Ivy, then down at myself. It was my right back side. I didn't even know. My body, as if waiting for me to realize it was wounded, started throbbing in pain. I shook my head. It was just another wound. Join the fucking club.

  "I'll be OK, Sprout. I just want to see what caught my eye back here."

  "Mom, I really think we should get you home and bandaged. You're bleeding an awful lot."

  I shot an annoyed glance at my daughter. "In a minute."

  I did a double-take. She was not staring at me anymore, but at the roof of a nearby building. "Ivy?" She didn't respond. Her eyes were a deep, inky black – something that I had never seen before – and she seemed completely oblivious to my presence. I looked up to see what she was looking at just in time to see a figure jerk out of view. I looked back down at my daughter.

  "Sprout? What did you see?"

  Her eyes flashed, returning to normal in an instant.

  "So can we go home and have grandma look at you? Please?" She asked me imploringly.

  Maxx whined, and Ivy reached down and absentmindedly ruffled his fur.

  For my part, all I could do is stare at my daughter and occasionally look back at the rooftop. I felt a deep sinking feeling in my gut that everything was about to change...

  - IVY -

  She snuck out of the house carefully that night, trying for everything she was worth to be as quiet as she possibly could – the last thing she wanted to do was awaken Grandma. Something about that woman scared her, and even though she never laid a hand on her, she terrified her nonetheless. Ivy cleared the window and promptly fell to the ground, louder than she had anticipated. She stayed still, listening carefully for sounds coming from within the house, but heard nothing. She didn't wake anyone up. Smiling, she stood on shaky yet strong legs, taking in the night scene before her.

  She loved this field. The primary reason her mother chose this house was because of its seclusion; the nearest neighboring house was maybe ten miles away. The house itself was surrounded by beautiful tall grass and was in a large empty-seemingly field. It was beautiful. Especially at night. She gently closed the window behind her and turned, taking in the scene in its entirety.

  It was breathtaking.

  She walked away from the house, just wanting to be alone with her thoughts for a while, thinking deeply about life, her mother, Maxx, and… even her grandmother. Especially the house, though. She really liked this house, really wanted to stay there. They moved around so much it was maddening, but she tried her best to not complain – after all, it wasn't her mother's fault. It was the Changed. And whatever it was that created them.

  She sighed. There was so much that no one knew. Or, at least, things that no one was telling her.

  Sometimes walking just helped her clear her mind, though tonight it seemed to be doing the opposite.

  Her skin began to tingle.

  She froze.

  She slowly turned, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. An errant thought slipped into her mind; they were out there. The Changed. And…

  Something else.

  She balled her fist and waited. There wasn't much else she could do, since she forgot to bring her machete.

  She screamed in surprise as the sky erupted in flame.

  She ran, knowing that any minute that it – they – would descend down upon her. She looked frantically for a hiding spot as she pushed her way through the tall grass, looking for a shield, a person, something – anything – that she could use to stay alive.

  She found nothing.

  She felt the ground shake, felt the air quiver. Something was very, very wrong, something that she had never encountered before. Something buzzed in the back of her mind.

  Beings materialized out of thin air all around her, stepping seemingly out of the nothingness of the night sky, and she watched the Changed come into view in the distance, hurriedly making their way through the tall grass. She tried changing her direction, but they had her surrounded. She looked frantically for a spot that they didn't occupy, widening her eyes when she actually found one.

  She took it, running with everything her body had to get to it before they realized their mistake. She heard the air crackle behind her, but didn't dare turn around – if she did, she knew, she would quickly be overtaken by the things that were chasing her.

  As it turned out, she didn't have to turn around – a large metallic humanoid form slammed down several feet in front of her, blocking her path.

  She gasped.

  It was menacing, for sure, but also familiar somehow. It looked like a man heavily armored in some kind of technological marvel, it's right arm exposed, as if the armor covering it had somehow been ripped off. Its eyes glowed with a menacing dark blue pulsing light, and she watched, frozen in place, as blades seemed to form in the air on top of the man’s left forearm, smoothly connecting with it in moments after becoming solid.

  She gasped again as the blades pierced her belly and she felt herself being lifted high up into the air.

  She tried to scream out for her mother, for Maxx, even for her grandmother, but she couldn't find the air necessary. She was going to die, and they would never know what happened to her.

  Her vision went white.

  Then.

  Gradually.

  Black.

  *

  "The dreams... they are powerful, are they not?" A soft, feminine voice said.

  Ivy opened her eyes and looked around for the source of the voice. She could barely make out a figure – a hooded, robed womanly figure – hunched on her bed several feet away.

  Whoever this mysterious person was, it was obviously not her mother.

  Ivy herself was on the floor, and there was blood underneath her face. She squinted as she opened her eyes and slowly raised her head, feeling it gently with her fingers. It was her nose. Her nose was bleeding. She tried to move but found herself restricted – her legs were tangled in her sheets. She had fallen out of bed again.

  "Who are you?" Ivy asked the figure on her bed as she untangled her feet, half wondering if this too was just a dream.

  The figure shifted, moving from a hunch to sitting flat. "That's not really important right now. I've been following you – watching you – your entire life. I know what you are. I know what kind of things you dream. Because I dream them too. Constantly. As I am sure that you do."

  Ivy's eyes widened. A million questions flooded into her mind, so many that she couldn't decide which one to ask first.

  The woman sighed and looked towards Ivy's open window. "You know; it wasn't always like this. The world. It used t
o be a much different place. A better place. Before we – they – decided to..."

  Ivy sat up, widening her eyes. It was as if the air around her became thicker, harder to breathe. "Before they what?"

  The figure extended an arm. "Come here. Let me see you. Up close."

  Ivy stood up and took a step towards her, instinctively reaching for the machete that was usually attached to her side, but it wasn't hooked through her belt loop like it normally was. Of course it wasn't, she thought, scolding herself. She had been sleeping in her usual outfit, one of her grandfather’s enormous shirts and a pair of bland white cotton panties. Not her pants. And her machete was where it always was when she slept: under her pillow. She dropped her hand from her side, trying to make it look casual. The figure on her bed didn't seem to notice.

  "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm the last person in the world that would ever want to do that. Though I'm glad you’re keeping the knife I gave you underneath your pillow. It's a good place for it."

  Ivy stopped. "Wait – what? How did you know that? And no one gave it to me – I found it."

  The woman chuckled lightly. "Love, I saw it peeking out. And I know you found it several months ago, when you and your mother were investigating a small shopping district. I had been following you and went ahead to leave it for you. You needed it more than me. I think Gabriel would have wanted you to have it."

  "Gab--" She was interrupted by Maxx's barking outside her door. Usually he slept in the bed with her, she had no idea why he was outside her room. He began scratching the door and barking louder. Ivy turned to the woman sitting on her bed.

  But she was gone.

  *

  For the longest time Ivy did nothing but lay in her bed with Maxx, holding him, thinking about the things that the mysterious woman had said to her. Who was Gabriel, and why would he want her to have her machete? And who was that woman to begin with? How did she get into her room? How did she get out? And how did she know about the dreams?

  Sleep – tonight, at least – was not going to happen.

  She started to shift Maxx to the side so she could get out of bed, but Maxx shifted too and nipped at her hand playfully. She grinned and bared her teeth and made a biting motion back at him.

  "Oh yeah?! Well, you're not the only one who can bite!"

  They wrestled in the bed for several minutes, playfully nipping at one another. Maxx was the most awesome person she knew, hands down, and was one of the few constants in her ever-changing life.

  She loved him unconditionally.

  She finally rose from the bed and padded through the house until she reached her mother’s room. She was extra careful as she walked through the front room, where her grandmother slept. She wished so badly that they could get along, that she didn't hate her so much. She just didn't understand where the hatred came from. She never did anything to her, had always went out of her way to be nice to her.

  She opened the door to her mother’s room and slipped in. "Mom?"

  No response. She was still asleep. Ivy slipped into bed with her as she had done countless times in the past, cuddling her, relishing the warmth of her mother’s body. This close she could see her mother’s face, and it made her slightly alarmed: it looked like the face of a corpse. She lightly shook her. "Mom?"

  Her mother snorted and instinctively wrapped her arms around Ivy, pulling her closer, then promptly went back to sleep. Ivy couldn't help but smile. She was a very loved girl.

  Well, by her mother and Maxx at least. Her grandmother – not so much.

  Maxx groggily walked into the room and took a step up into the bed, slightly slipping. Maxx was getting old, and Ivy knew he would only be around for a few more years. It would devastate her when he finally passed. Maxx wasn't the only thing that wouldn't be around too much longer, though.

  The end of the world was coming.

  It was something Ivy had been dreaming about for almost as long as she could remember. Her dreams seemed to alternate – they were either about her death or the destruction of the world. It made her wonder if there was a purpose for that. It was something she had always kept to herself, never letting her mother or grandmother know. She didn't even tell Maxx, just in case he could understand English. That strange woman on her bed was the only one that knew about them.

  She tried to think about things on an even deeper level, but the combination of her mom’s breathing and Maxx's nearness lulled her to sleep.

  A dreamless sleep.

  For a change.

  - ME -

  I awoke to two familiar sensations; the first was the glorious smell of some kind of meat cooking in the kitchen, making my stomach instantly snarl, and the second was my daughter wrapped up in my arms. And her – well, technically my - lying at my feet. Ivy often crept into my room and slipped in bed with me. I suspected the reason to be nightmares, but I couldn't ever get her to talk about them. Which was unsettling, considering that my daughter would rarely shut up about anything else. She was a regular chatterbox.

  And I loved her for that.

  I watched her sleep for a while – watching her sleep was like watching the slumber of a light green-skinned angel. She is going to grow up to be a stunningly beautiful woman. Much like her birth mother was.

  I turned my head and watched Maxx sleeping. I envied him his serenity. I sat up and ruffled his fur lightly, suddenly overwhelmingly thankful that I had him in my life. I wonder if he had any idea just how important he was to this family, especially to me and Ivy. Were we anywhere near as important to him? I liked to think we were.

  What was I thinking? I knew for a fact that Ivy was. After all, she was constantly sneaking him treats.

  After watching him for a while, I carefully slipped out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, stopping to look in the mirror after I relieved my bladder. It was cracked.

  Much like me.

  I stared at my reflection for a long time, wondering where the years had gone, where the world had gone.

  I walked back into my room to find my little green-tinted angel and her furry sidekick still sleeping.

  She was in for a rude awakening.

  I lifted her nightshirt up and began carefully examining her skin for any signs of the Change. Her eyes snapped open. She didn't protest – we did this every day, after all, and she knew exactly what I was looking for – but she didn't speak either. Maybe it was something about having someone carefully examining your naked body that discouraged casual conversation. Luckily I found nothing, and afterward Ivy did the same for me.

  Trust me, if there was anything that encouraged dieting and staying in shape, it was having your naked body examined daily by your nearly physically perfect teenage daughter. As it was, I was pretty proud of my body. Spending over half your life fighting on an almost daily basis made the whole staying in shape thing a lot easier than it used to be.

  I was clean of any signs of the Change.

  I started to go into the front room where my mother slept to check her, too, but stopped as I felt Ivy looking at me more intensely than usual. I turned and closed the distance between us, scooping her up in my arms for a massive bear hug.

  "What's on your mind, Sprout? And don't tell me nothing. Mothers know these things."

  Her semi-serious face smoothed and relaxed into a warm smile. God she was going to be a stunner when she got older.

  "I just love you, mom. I really do. And I'm feeling kind of clingy today for some reason."

  I nodded. I understood exactly what she was talking about. I had those days often when I was younger. Not so much now.

  I sat on the bed in front of the dresser mirror and pulled her into my lap, facing it. I reached forward and grabbed the brush laying on top of it and started brushing her long black hair as we talked.

  "You know, when I was a little girl, my father – your grandfather – used to do this with me all the time. Just sit me in front of the mirror and brush out my hair." />
  She made a cute little quizzical face that made me smile. "Grandpa? Why not grandma? Isn't that kind of a girly thing?"

  My smile widened. "Well, my mom really isn't a girly kind of woman. She never has been. Something about the Change made her... more stoic."

  Ivy frowned. "What’s stoic mean?"

  "It means emotionless. Well, really it means someone that doesn't show their emotions, but I don't think that covers it for her. I think a large part of her died when the world started to crumble, and when my dad... died, she lost what little humanity she had left."

  Ivy's eyes widened. "Wow. I didn't know that."

  I nodded as I continued brushing her hair. "Yeah, it's not something we casually talk about."

  "So why does she hate me so much?"

  Her question felt like a stabbing. I wanted to tell her that my mother didn't hate her, that it was all in her imagination, but the truth was my mother hated her with a passion – one of the few emotions I saw her exhibit. The reason, however, was not about to be a casual conversation.

  I met Ivy’s eyes in the mirror only to find her studying me. It was a little unnerving. "Honey, it's not your fault. She just sees you as a kind of... I don't know, kind of like a symbol for everything that has gone wrong with the world. It's not anything you did or said, don't worry."

  Ivy frowned and looked down. "But that only makes it worse. It means there is nothing I can do to fix it."

  I sighed. "Not everything can be fixed, baby. No matter how wrong it is. Or how much of a bitch another person wants to be."

  "So that's what I am, now? A bitch?"

  Both me and Ivy spun our heads to look behind us. My mother was standing in the doorway.

  "Breakfast is ready," she said coldly. Before either of us could say anything, she walked away.

  - IVY -

  Ivy sat down at the table to eat breakfast, placing her machete on the table beside her plate. It wasn't something she usually did, but her nerves were on edge this morning, and having it near her just made her feel safe.