by JK Accinni
He drummed his nails on the table, shaking his head. “Nutin we can do. It’s not like someone’s gunna drop a bomb anymore.”
They laughed together, forced and strained.
“We gotta move, one foot in front of the other. You won’t catch me goin outside with the flamer on the loose and our cats and bears on the prowl, though. I want to talk to Hud and Cobby about rigging up some kind of inside privy.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dez. It’s not that bad yet.”
Dezi rolled his eyes. “I’m just sayin’.” He picked up his spice box. “Well, back to work. Maybe someone will eat tonight.” He rattled the box as he rose to get back to work. Lifting the lid, he set the box back on the table in disgust.
“I can’t cook like this.” Ginger Mae looked into the box, found it empty and looked up at him quizzically.
“You need something from the field? I’ll go get it for you.”
“Aw, babe, you’d sure be doin’ me a solid. I need some of the reddish mushrooms that hang down from those short yellowish trees. The ones with the tiny leaves?”
Ginger Mae picked up the box. “I know what you mean. The salty mushrooms.”
“Yeah, I grind them up to use as a salt substitute. Can you tell how much better things taste since we found them?”
Ginger Mae looked pensive. “You know, you’re right. I forgot how much I missed salt. I’ll be right back.”
Taking the empty box, she stepped out into the sunlight, its power weakening as it made its inexorable journey toward the horizon. Peering up towards the woods, she saw survivors in clusters, gathering strength from each other as they tried to guess the reason for the animal invasion.
She watched as one of the keepers jumped in front of a massive reticulated python that steadfastly strutted its serpentine muscles up the hill like a stealth missile locked on its target. No reaction. Where the heck had that come from?
Biting her lip, she slowly made her way to the edge of the settlement. She scanned the trees that stood as sentinels guarding the entrance to what Johno fondly called the lowvelt.
She could hear rustles in the bushes, invisible creatures disturbed from their precious little lives, unable to fight the magnetic pull of the Hive.
Stepping closer to the yellow trees, she was puzzled. No red mushrooms hung upside down from their long slender stems. Her eyes crawled down the trunk to the ground where the mushrooms lay, shriveled and dead. Picking one up, she turned it in her hand, dropping it quickly when she discovered the white mold that had rotted them overnight. She was sure they had looked fine yesterday.
Wiping her hand on her pants, she headed back to Dezi. Halfway there, she encountered Cobby coming toward her, his face drooping in its solemnness, eyes hot with red streaks that declared worry and sleeplessness. Scotty had been like a son to him.
“Hi, Cob. How you doing? Karen good?”
“She’s fine. She’s always fine. I left her with Dezi and the babies. Everyone’s headed there now. Do you have a second?” He took her elbow and shepherded her toward Scotty and Chloe’s empty shelter.
“I don’t think I can go in there right now, Cobby.” Ginger Mae hung back, bewildered by the request.
Cobby urged her forward as if he hadn’t heard. “I remember when the kids insisted they have this spot.” Cobby’s voice broke as he looked her in the eye. “Did you know this is the spot their house used to sit? This is where they lived when their mother died, where the Gomez family lived with them after Salina’s first husband took off.” Cobby kicked the ground with his toe. “Well, I guess he’s long dead. Salina gets the last laugh.” His comment fell flat. Ginger Mae looked close, had that been a sob?
Clearing his throat, Cobby continued, “I never had roots myself. I didn’t get it, I always wanted to be at sea, even as a boy. We moved to where the jobs were. The old man was a sailor.” He looked at her begging for help. As if she knew. She shook her head not knowing what to say.
“It’s Abby.”
Cobby pulled her around the side of the dwelling to the rear. There she was. Sitting on the ground, leaning against a dead oak tree, its grand branches broken and denuded, dignified in its quiet naked death.
“What’s she doing here?”
Cobby put out his hand, stopping them a distance away, his anguish impossible to disguise.
“She’s saying goodbye.” His voice was a whisper as his eyes closed against obvious pain.
“Goodbye? Noooo.” Ginger Mae gripped his hands. “It’s too soon. Is it Oolaha?”
“Yes . . . they’re all leaving. Tomorrow morning. She said the Hive is closing. It’s leaving two pathways open. One is for the Elders to get back to Oolaha. Baby and Echo will go too, but who knows where they are? I can’t stand to see her like this. Can you convince her to come to dinner? It will be our—her last memory. I can’t . . . it’s not right . . .”
“Sssh, I understand. You go. I’ll take care of this.”
Cobby took her in his arms. “Thanks, kiddo. You were always a stand-up broad.” He took one more look at Abby, his breathing quickening, his hand raised, but no . . . he turned and left Ginger Mae alone to face the beautiful human Elder.
Ginger Mae moved toward the tree, a tired smile held tightly on her lips.
“Abby? Mind if I join you?”
Abby didn’t even look up. A few moments passed between them before she spoke. “This is where it all began. We were just kids.” She rubbed the smooth bark of the oak. “We had such hopes, full of innocence and naïveté.”
She looked up to give Ginger Mae a distant smile, her eyes no longer luminescent, but dim and dull.
Ginger Mae gave a start as she realized Abby still had the same clothes on from two days ago, her hair was matted and snarled, the feathers on her wings uneven and clumped. Wrinkling her nose, she thought Abby could clearly use a bath. But her elegant and murderous horns still swirled with color, shimmering and smoldering even in the falling dusk.
“I understand from Cobby that you’re planning to leave tomorrow?”
“Cobby . . . um, yeah.” She looked down again, a weed in her hand, running it mindlessly through her fingers.
“I don’t expect you to be happy right now, Abby, but maybe you could put on a front on for the rest of us. The others are going to be upset when word gets around. We’re scared enough as it is. No one seems to know what’s happening with Netty gone. How could you even think of leaving us now? We’re your family. You need us now, too. We haven’t even had a service for Scotty.”
Abby nodded her head, the weed now sitting in her lap as she began to shred it.
“Abby, could you look at me?” Ginger Mae heard a sob as Abby raised her head, tears streaming down her face. Oh no, thought Ginger Mae, I know that look.
She placed Abby’s hand between her own. “It’s Cobby, isn’t it?”
Abby didn’t move, didn’t speak. She just let the tears flow, her eyes expressing her struggle with a tide of overwhelming emotion.
“You love him?”
A tight nod, and she bowed her head, swiping her nose with the back of her hand. “But I can’t. Jose . . . I can’t do that to him. It’s too complicated, you wouldn’t understand.”
Ginger Mae patted her hand. “I understand more than you know, Abby. I’ve known he loved you since I first saw you together aboard the Lucky Lady when we made our break from Sarasota.”
More nodding and dripping tears. “It’s just that I have this duty now. I’m an Elder.”
“I also know you don’t love Jose.”
Her head popped back up. “That’s not true. I do love him. Just . . . differently.”
They stared back at one another. Two women recognizing the eternal struggle between duty and true love. Ginger Mae knew what the outcome would be. She stood and pulled on Abby’s arm. “Come on, let’s get you pulled together for dinner. We can’t solve this tonight, can we?” She looked hard into Abby’s eyes, recognizing the robust fiber of her womanhood. They
both knew what Abby’s decision had to be.
Arm in arm, they made their way back to Dezi’s kitchen, the wildlife still moving up the hill.
Abby excused herself at Dezi’s door. “I’ll be right back. Five minutes. Let me just change at least.”
“Okay, five minutes, no more.” They parted with a quick hug and brief sincere smiles.
Walking through the door, Ginger Mae could tell the word had circulated. She didn’t think the atmosphere could get any grimmer.
“It’s about time, babe.” Dezi closed the book he was reading with a loud snap and tucked it in his apron’s wide pocket.
“Sorry, Dez. Abby needed me.” She enunciated the words slowly and quietly, raising her eyebrows so he would get the message.
“Eww, she’s still bad?”
Ginger’s face registered agreement as she trolled the huge room with her eyes, spotting Hud in the corner with Wil.
“Can you excuse me, Dezi? I need to find Daisy. I guess you heard the Elders are leaving. I need to see what Daisy’s plans are.” She moved to leave.
“Hey, hey. Where’s my mushrooms?”
Chagrined, Ginger Mae handed over his empty spice box. “Sorry, Dezi, it slipped my mind. There are no more mushrooms. Not a one on the trees. They’re all shriveled up on the ground, covered with this slick white fungus.” She shuddered. “Just throw another spice in your pot. We can live without the taste of salt. We did for almost a century.”
Dezi grumbled and turned to his shelves, shuffling bowls and jars around nosily. “Well, it’s just not gunna be the same. What else can happen today, for Womb’s sake?”
Moving across the room, Ginger Mae felt Cobby’s eyes on her as he held his baby on his lap, Karen hovering with Gloria and Billy, their baby asleep in Father Garcia’s arms. She refused to meet Cobby’s glance, leaving his unanswered question clouding his eyes.
She gave a salute to Hud and Wil, before finding Daisy holed up in another corner with Peter and Bonnie.
“Where’s the baby?” She slid into a seat next to Bonnie.
“Asleep. Maddy’s keeping an eye in him. I’m just too exhausted.” Bonnie looked like hell. Her normally cheerful demeanor had vanished to be replaced by a solemn and weary grown woman in the body of a ripe teen.
Peter didn’t look any better. His eyes tried to hide his concern, but Ginger Mae knew it was grave.
“You heard?”
They shook their heads.
“Yeah, we heard.” They turned in unison to Daisy, waiting for her to speak.
“Mother, can we please discuss this later? You know I must go. Let’s get through dinner and we will talk about it then.”
Ginger Mae reached behind Bonnie to give her a hug.
“Sure, Daisy Chain. I’m a bit tired now, myself.”
Abby chose that moment to enter, looking fresher but downcast. She nodded to a few survivors, ignored Cobby, and took a seat next to Jose.
Salina and Shirley began to set the tables for dinner, Dezi still grumbling about his missing mushrooms.
Dinner passed quietly, the survivors jumpy with the pace of the animal call to the Hive escalating. Noises filtered into the kitchen: chuffing, snorts, hoofs on the ground. At one point, Johno thought he heard an elephant trumpet, which caused Bonnie to run to the door.
“What? Oh, my gosh!” Her expression appeared terrified, luring the other survivors to investigate.
Wil pulled them all away from the door as they gazed up into the air to watch a massive flock of flamers, their first true glimpse of the horrifying predators. Three out of every four of the monstrous reptile birds carried a huge ball of nesting material clutched tightly in their evil-looking talons.
Ginger Mae turned away from the door as Abby sat back down, her head in her hands, Jose’s arms wrapped protectively around her.
“So that’s the creature that killed Scotty and my boys,” Johno lamented sorrowfully. “What’s the purpose of the balls of material they fly with?” He turned to Wil.
“I think their chicks are inside. They would never leave them behind.”
Johno scratched at his ear, his naturally placid demeanor slipping. “How can the Womb justify calling the flamers to the Hive? That’s where they’re going, isn’t it? Miss Lorna said this territory supports only one for the season.” His eye grew large, the whites stark against his caramel skin. “There must have been at least thirty of them in the sky.”
Wil answered with kindness, clear but firm, “Johno, you know the Womb respects all its children, favoring few, treasuring all their lives. There will be another home for the flamers. The Womb will guide them to a path through the Hive membrane, wherever the Womb deems appropriate. Even they deserve a chance to live their lives.”
Everyone had taken their seats again. Restlessness and nerves turned the group into a frantic knot at Wil’s words.
Salina rose to serve tea and two of the infants awoke, crying to be fed. Bonnie and Karen rose to tend their boy and girl before they woke the others.
“Pick me up, Daddy,” came the demand from Maya as she escaped Maddy’s watchful eye.
“Ahhh.”
The sound of Salina dropping the teapot drew everyone’s attention. She stood blank faced, staring at the doorway. All heads turned to observe Netty and a timidly-smiling Chloe standing there.
“Mama,” shrieked Maya, running to the doorway.
The shocked silence from the other survivors was palpable. Finally, Clyde summed it up for them all. “Holy Mother of God.”
Chloe walked into the room. Assisted by Netty with Maya wrapped around her legs, she sat in Kenya’s old armchair near the fireplace, clearly eight months or more pregnant.
Chapter 20
Seth sank to his knees, terror gripping him in its choking vise. His own stench from the release of his bowels floated up, adding to his nausea.
He was surrounded by the menacing dog-like creatures that had flown into their camp unnoticed until it was too late.
Around him lay the skeletons of his men, picked clean to the bone, dressed only in their saggy rags.
Carefully, he edged away from what had once been his simpering lover, Andrew, his firm, familiar flesh eaten away by minute black and red creatures, reducing him to a screaming horror of boiling flesh that called out to him for rescue with his last breath.
Seth tried to calm down, taking deep gulps of air as he watched the other golden creature called Echo approach him. The winged-dog creatures swiveled their salivating lizard faces toward the tottering Echo as if responding to a whistle.
Four of them crept closer, snatching the live body of Seth’s harpooned creature in their mouths and dragging it away from his reach.
He could hear the frantic barks of the dog in the cage. The Echo creature turned to the wagon, its luminous eyes and swirling antlers sending refractions of light into the darkness. The dog suddenly whined then ceased barking, sitting quietly in the cage.
“Okay . . . easy now. You want your buddy? You can have him. I meant no harm.” Even to himself, his squeaky voice suggested guilt. He offered his hands in supplication. “I was just bringing him back to you. This is how we found him.”
As Seth continued to beg, Echo flipped her long tail high in the air. The bulbous end extruded a membrane. The air filled with pressure. Seth wrinkled his nose as the smell of sulfur hit him.
To his surprise, the creature on the ground reached up and slowly pulled the harpoon from its chest, leaving a gaping wound which healed itself before his eyes.
The Echo creature approached the healed one, fingers to each furry cheek that now gleamed with health. Together, they turned to stare unblinkingly at Seth.
His heart beat so fast he couldn’t catch his breath. He fought off a cramp from his bowels as the Echo creature shambled over to the wagon and hoisted itself up. The white dog went mad with excitement. Unlatching the cage door, the creature was bowled over by the dog. They lay on the wagon floor, the creature grooming the dog, its
face pressed to the dog’s side.
Together, they jumped from the wagon and made their way back to Seth’s creature. The winged dogs gathered around. To Seth’s astonishment, the two creatures gathered the dog between them and, without a backward glance, took to the air. The winged lizard dogs flew after them, a protective layer underneath the now squirming dog.
“Holy shit.” He climbed feebly to his feet, wondering what to do. He could not continue to Lily Pond Road. Out of the question.
He shriveled inside knowing his leverage with the tribe was gone. They would never let him lead after this. How could he make them understand what a valiant effort he had made to save his men? If he had not had the good sense to hold his tongue, the creatures may have inflicted more horror. He began to sob, knowing his story would be a hard sell.
Why does my life always turn to shit? I deserve more than this. They don’t know who I am . . . I’m Doc Benjamin’s son! He shook his deformed hand to the sky.
Seth was left sobbing and alone with the skeletons of his dead men and the uncomfortable, wet smell in his pants; alone as the flying creatures vanished from sight, leaving him to listen in the darkness as the bushes rustled and growled around him.
Chapter 21
Abby rose from her seat next to Jose, shrugging his arm from her shoulders. She walked toward Netty and Chloe, her posture combative. “How could you leave us like this? And what’s the meaning of this?” She pointed to Chloe’s abdomen. Her face crumbled, dissolving into tears as she began to shake.
“Where have you been?” Her lost voice fell, emotions cascading as her whole body conveyed hurt, disappointment and the accusation of betrayal.
Netty rushed to her side to embrace her.
“We needed you, Netty,” she continued to sob.
“My dear, it is all right. We’re back now. Please . . .” She glanced around the room, spotting Johno. “Johno? Perhaps you and Dezi can brew us up some tea?” She nodded at him knowingly. “And my medicine, please. I think we could all use a dose. We need to calm down and discuss these events rationally.” Her eyes searched for Wil, brightening when she located him. He stood up to go to her side as Abby continued to sob on her shoulder.
