Hall of Mosses

by Evans, Nicoline

  “Holy crap,” Brett said in awe as he watched the footage play out on screen. The waves were hitting the land repeatedly. The cameras missed the first round but were capturing the continued beating via helicopter.

  “It doesn’t look natural. The water is moving with intention, like it has control over where it goes.”

  Juniper was in utter shock; all the recent craziness was being validated. She stayed quiet, too flabbergasted to speak.

  “They were saying there won’t be any survivors,” Jeb stammered, relaying all he’d heard up to this point. “There might’ve been some after the first wave, but not now. The entire area has been obliterated.”

  “Did they say how many people populated that area of the globe?” Brett asked.

  “Indonesia has 250 million. The Philippines have about 100 million. They’ll mention the total number again.”

  “No survivors?” Brett asked again to confirm.

  “So they think.”

  “That is a lot of death.”

  Juniper felt sick. Even if she tried to reach out to authorities to warn them about this disaster, who would have believed her? How could she have explained her source? The trees might’ve abandoned her for divulging to unworthy humans, leaving her helpless when the devastation arrived at her own front door. The best she could do was try to save as many people on her end as possible.

  Roscoe burst into the bar. He glared at her with alarmed disbelief and she nodded, answering his unasked question. He collapsed onto a bar stool and stared up at the TV screen with a look of horror.

  She walked over to him, hoping they could have a quiet conversation while Jeb and Brett bantered.

  “I feel guilty by association,” he said.

  “So you’re saying I’m at fault?” she asked, appalled at the accusation. “What would you have had me do? Tell them the trees warned me this was coming? You didn’t even believe me, so do you really think a stranger of high authority would have taken me seriously?”

  “No,” he surrendered. “But I wish you’d tried.”

  Juniper groaned. “I’d look like a lunatic.”

  Roscoe shrugged. “Maybe, but it would be worth it if it meant you could save others.”

  “So you believe me now?”

  “I guess I have to.”

  “You need to believe in the trees, believe in nature. It’s essential.”

  “You want me to accept that this supernatural massacre is a good thing? I don’t understand how you are okay with it.”

  “I’m not, but we have no say in the matter. We cannot stop it, so we might as well ready ourselves for what lies ahead. I do have faith in nature and I trust that we can rebuild our lives and thrive on the other side of this catastrophic end.”

  “I need to call my dad.”

  Juniper nodded. She didn’t want to press the issue of belief. The trees chose her because she believed without proof, without any indicator that there was truth behind the faith she felt in the forest. Her love was abundant and pure, stemming from genuine intent and authentic allegiance. She felt safe in nature, she felt the love returned in small, sincere ways, and through this she found herself in allegiance with the trees. After they saved her life she realized how much depth there was to her previously light-hearted loyalty to the forest. There was something solid in which to place her faith, something wholesome and purposeful in which to believe. Despite the gruesome manner in which this new reality was beginning to unfold, her alliance with nature did not feel wrong.

  In this notion she’d remain steadfast.

  The bar did not get rowdy this Friday night; there was a somber feeling of companionship amongst the bartenders and patrons. The TV stayed on the live broadcast all night and everyone watched with hurting hearts, grateful they were not alone to receive this grave news. Gratitude for life filled the bar and its large presence was overwhelming. Seeing so much death made those far from the wreckage thankful to be alive. Juniper couldn’t help but notice this vibe in crushing surges and it terrified her that she might not be able to save them all.

  She tried to hush the fear.

  The weekend passed with speed and she made her way back into the forest as soon as she could. The more time she spent surrounded by human civilization, the further she felt from her newly accepted purpose, and the more it felt like she had made the whole ordeal up in her head. She needed to talk to the spirits of the trees; she needed an explanation, clarification, validation. Anything to remind her this wasn’t a weird dream.

  The weather was dry, but the trails to Happy Lake Ridge were long and formidable. She had to cross a shallow section of the Elwha River north of Lake Mills in order to reach Boulder Creek Trail, which would lead her to the treacherous trail of Happy Lake. There were lots of loose rocks to navigate and thin spaces to squeeze through; this trek always tested her riding skills. The ride was therapeutic. Challenging herself was healing and settled the nerves that had surfaced at the announcement of the South Pacific tsunamis. It relieved all anxieties as she could only focus on the task at hand. When she reached a relatively flat section of Happy Lake Ridge, she set up camp facing west.

  Welcome home, The trees said in unified harmony.

  “Thanks. It was a tough weekend. I saw the purge of the South Pacific. That’s what will happen all over the globe?”

  Yes, just in different manners.

  “What’s next?”

  The air spirits have been gathering the massive pollution of China, India, and the Middle East into an expansive fog, while simultaneously working with the water spirits to cool the air of Asia and dump thousands of meters of snow over the Himalayas. All of Asia and Europe are in its range. It’s a collaborative effort of avalanches, an arctic freeze, and unbreathable air. I suggest you avoid the news next week if the tsunamis caused you grief.

  “Are you sure this is necessary?”

  Unfortunately.

  “People are being saved?”

  By our Champion of Air and Champion of the Mountains, yes. Humans from various countries in their regions are already stationed near the top of Mount Everest and Mont Rose. They will ride out the devastation at safe altitudes.

  “How far will it reach?”

  North to South, Russia to Sri Lanka. East to West, Japan to Ireland.

  “That’s millions of people.”

  Yes, it will be one of the larger attacks.

  “When will it be our turn? How will it happen?”

  We will keep you informed. How is your progress with your Second?

  “Well, he believes me now, but whatever dreams you placed in his head have him terrified of your intentions.”

  It was our attempt to explain why we must excavate the planet of most human life.

  “I get it, but it backfired. Now he thinks if he stands by me he’ll be a guilty party to the extinction of the human race.”

  It’s not an extinction. Gaia loves humans too much to eliminate them. This purge, being chosen, it’s a second chance.

  “Roscoe doesn’t see it that way. He said the visions he received felt like nature hated mankind.”

  Bring him back to the forest. We will speak to him this one time in order to remedy this misstep.

  “When do I meet the other Champions?”

  Possibly never. But you’ll begin communicating with them when you’re ready. You’ll know them well soon.

  Juniper took a deep breath, “How many people do you think I can save?”

  However many you can recruit to your side. If they believe, they will follow.

  “When is the attack on Europe and Asia happening?”

  Next week. It will be slower than that on the South Pacific and will take two to three weeks to complete.

  “I see. Roscoe heard you speak to him in his dreams before the tsunamis, but didn’t believe any of it to be true until he saw the South Pacific unfold. I suppose I’ll need to do that with the rest of them and accept that they’ll think I’m crazy for a while.”

 
You must do whatever you think is best. It is your duty to gather a following to endure the purge in your region. The less people you have, the harder it will be to survive the aftermath. You need able hands and sharp minds when you attempt to rebuild your humbled civilization.

  She said nothing more. There were no words to say, no questions to ask that could justify or rationalize the torn feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  After a few minutes of silence, she felt the presence of the trees fade. They were still with her, just farther away. It was nice to feel alone again; she needed time by herself to come to terms with her role as an accomplice. She wondered if the other Champions struggled with the same moral dilemma when they were first recruited.

  Sunset came in a blaze of glory and left the world in darkness at its departure. The moon was hardly visible and her surrounding felt strange. Paranoia washed over her. She shivered and crawled into her tent, hoping to hide from whatever dangers lurked in her vicinity, imaginary or real.

  The following morning arrived with a brisk breeze. It didn’t feel like spring and she hadn’t packed like she would have during the winter months. Her tent was vented, her sleeping bag wasn’t insulated, and she didn’t dress appropriately. If it didn’t warm up she imagined she’d need to head home sooner than anticipated. But maybe that was a good thing; she should be there convincing Irene to come with her kids and swaying those she cared about to her side. She wasn’t sure how much time she had left and making people believe her crazy reality would not be easy.

  She dug her walkie-talkie out of her backpack.

  “Heya, I’m halfway down Happy Lake Ridge if you want to come visit.”

  “Hi Juni,” Clark answered via his direct line. “I’m buried in paperwork today but I’ll give Roscoe the heads up. It’s awfully cold this morning. Did you pack proper gear?”

  “No, I should’ve checked the weather. My mistake.”

  “I’ll advise Roscoe to bring some extra blankets and socks.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You okay otherwise? Roscoe’s been acting weird.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I do need to come in and see you soon though. I have a lot of updates to share.”

  “Stop by anytime. For you, my door is always open.”

  “Thanks. I’ll try to come by before the weekend.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  The conversation ended and she hoped Roscoe would come. There was a chance he might choose to stay away. He no longer seemed comfortable in her company, especially in the presence of trees.

  Afternoon arrived with warmth, which Juniper was thankful for. The trees did not speak but she was certain they sang through the entire day. Their tune rang in chorus with the cool wind and noisy animals. It was a hum in layered harmonies. The sound was ethereal, unlike any she’d heard before, and though its tone was spooky, she was not afraid. The longer the song continued, the more it echoed off the surrounding mountains, reverberating like a choir in a grand church hall. The growth was slow but steady, building until the entire forest was flooded in the sound. Juniper was so lost in the enchanting melody she did not notice Roscoe’s arrival.

  “Heard you were cold,” he said, carrying an armful of blankets.

  She snapped her head in his direction and let the song of the woods fade to the back of her awareness.

  “I am, thank you.”

  They exchanged blankets and she threw on two extra pairs of socks.

  “I’ll be honest, I did not want to come.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did.”

  “I can’t stay long.”

  “That’s fine.”

  They sat next to the fire she built. Roscoe put an arm around her beneath the comforter they shared and pulled her in closer. She nuzzled her head onto his shoulder.

  For a few moments they sat like this, pretending nothing had changed, that there wasn’t an enormous tension residing between them. When the trees spoke, all pretenses of normalcy were lost.

  Welcome back, Roscoe.

  His spine went rigid as he scanned the sky frantically for the source.

  Juniper tried to calm his nerves. “It’s okay. I promise.”

  “You heard that too?”

  She nodded, not wanting to say it was the trees again. She was tired of him looking at her like she was insane.

  We did not mean to frighten you when we spoke to you through your dreams.

  Roscoe buried his face into his hands. “This is what I was avoiding. I’m not crazy, I know I’m not.”

  “Avoiding the truth doesn’t make it go away. Just face it,” Juniper encouraged. “Be open to the improbable just this once. It’s magic; an awe-inspiring gift that you really ought to accept.”

  “I can accept the magic in nature. I just can’t accept that this so-called magic is out to kill us all,” he hissed.

  The voices of the trees answered in unison. Gaia loves humans too much for a complete extinction.

  “Who is Gaia?”

  “Mother Nature,” Juniper answered.

  Your race is being given a second chance. We understand your hesitance to accept this strange reality—we were once human too—but it’s crucial that you do. Juniper has chosen you as her Second. She needs you.

  “You were once human?”

  “I hadn’t gotten that far into the explanation,” Juniper cut in before the trees could freak him out anymore.

  Better she explains it than us, the trees responded. Take care, Roscoe.

  The wind lessened and the voices were gone.

  “This is absurd.”

  “Maybe, but it’s our reality.”

  “I can’t sit back with this information and watch millions of people die. The guilt will eat me alive for the rest of my life.”

  “Do you understand why they are doing it?”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t change the fact that millions of good people who are victim to the world they were born into will die along with the others who cause the actual damage. There’s no way you, or any of the other Champions, can save every good soul on Earth.”

  “I can barely fathom gathering a following here. I really need your help.”

  “I’m going to help on behalf of mankind, not Gaia or whoever. I will save as many people as I can. I’m starting with my dad, then I’ll work on Clark and my other friends. I have a feeling most won’t oblige till the end is upon us.”

  “I’ll talk to the trees, see if they can help in any way.”

  “Just keep in mind that they’re the ones trying to kill us. I think we ought to stay objective when it comes to our trust in them.”

  “They saved my life. Damien would have killed me if it weren’t for them.”

  “Maybe so. Maybe they have some bizarre love for you, but that love does not span across the board. They have no bond with humans elsewhere.”

  “I’m the liaison. I am the bridge connecting humans to nature. They love me. And through me, they love those I love.”

  “So I better not piss you off, huh?” His bitter tone was unlike any she’d heard from him before.

  “No, I didn’t mean it like that. They only hurt those who hurt me. They are my protectors. Please stop blaming me. I didn’t choose this.”

  “But you’re choosing to be an active party to genocide.”

  “I cannot stop it! My hands are tied so I’m doing the best I can to minimize the damage.” She shook her head in frustration. “But I can barely get you, the guy I love, to be on my side. Not sure how I’m supposed to convince others who I have less of a connection with to believe so I can save them.”

  Roscoe groaned. “I need to balance your whimsical faith with some logic or else we are screwed. I will handle what we’ve been dealt in my own way. With reason and empathy, with a sound moral code.”

  “I don’t want people to die either,” she said in a low voice, bruised by his resistance. His emotional response to this situation always painted her as the bad guy and it was wearing her down. “I jus
t can’t control situations that are beyond me, I can only adapt.”

  “You work on your people, I’ll work on mine. Keep me posted if they tell you anything else.” He went to his quad without giving her a chance to respond. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to tell him more. She contemplated whether or not to mention next week’s attack on Europe and Asia, but feared if she did, he’d be sent into a worse tailspin as he tried to fix a situation he could not control. Even if they reached the mainstream media, no one would heed their warnings. They’d never take them seriously; the people in power don’t even take scientists with highly-esteemed awards and years of experience seriously. They’d be fighting a battle they’d never win.

  In reverse, if she did not tell him he’d be furious with her when the events began to unfold. He’d surely realize this was part of the bigger picture they were now a part of and he’d feel betrayed that she had not confided in him.

  The choice was heavy.

  She tried to forget about it and worry about herself. She had a lot on her mind and worrying about his feelings or their relationship was a distraction. The fate of many lives rested in her hands, and if she did not handle the upcoming weeks properly she could wind up alone in the end.

  The trees sensed her worry and returned.

  You will never be alone.

  “I will if I don’t get people to believe me. You said so yourself.”

  Trust in us. All will not be lost.

  “And if I don’t get anyone to listen to my warnings when it’s our turn?”

  Fear not, Little Blossom.

  “Dad?” Her eyes brimmed with tears.

  We do not see bodies; we see auras, we see souls. Yours is the brightest green we’ve ever seen. Just as our Champions of other elements shine brightest in other hues. The less a human is connected to Gaia, the less they glow. Many humans are a dull shade of gray. Just because there are only seven Champions does not mean there are not others out there worthy of our mercy. We will not overlook them when we strike.

  She nodded, accepting the relief this revelation gave. This news would be well-received by Roscoe and might help him adjust.