The Sleep of the Gods

by James Sperl

  “I know. But I couldn’t resist.”

  “If you weren’t pregnant, I’d punch you in the belly.”

  Abby’s smile dissolved, replaced immediately by a wash of concern. It was the kind of expression one had when jarred back into a reality previously forgotten.

  “Wow,” Abby said simply, sitting down on a metal folding chair outside the garage.

  Tamara chewed her bottom lip, instantly regretful of her last sentence. “I didn’t mean that. I wouldn’t...I was just—”

  “I know you didn’t. It’s not that,” Abby said resting a hand on her stomach. “For a few minutes there I actually remembered what it was like to be a kid again, and not stress about what it was gonna be like to raise one.”

  Tamara watched as Abby’s hand subconsciously made tiny circles on her belly.

  “Have you...thought of any names yet?”

  Abby stopped cold, her head popping up and her eyes locking with Tamara’s. A peculiar grin broke on her lips.

  “No,” she said to her own astonishment. “Not once.”

  “We could think of some,” Tamara said. “If you want.”

  Abby’s grin grew into a full-fledged smile. She ruminated over the possibilities. “That would be fun.”

  Pleased with herself for quickly smoothing over a big sister, little sister rift, Tamara sat on the ground in front of Abby.

  “Let’s start with girl names,” she said. “They’re always cooler anyway.”

  Abby smiled down at her sister then looked up at the sky. The sun was gone and in its wake was a wonderful spectrum of purples, oranges and yellows that highlighted the thin, drifting clouds overhead.

  Tamara noticed it too, the colors reflecting off the walls and glass of the convenience store in a vibrant orangish glow. But more than this, Tamara noticed the extreme shift in facial expressions on her sister, her pleasant smile now devolved into a confused scowl. It wasn’t until Abby got to her feet and pointed skyward that Tamara’s suspicion of her sister’s sudden mood shift had been confirmed.

  “What is that?”

  20

  From the Heavens

  Derrik had finally relented and allowed Oliver to pump the remainder of the last fuel barrel. Having filled both the bus and one fifty gallon barrel without a minute of downtime, Oliver wondered if Derrik was perhaps a robot, or at the very least a cyborg. His tireless energy seemed almost superhuman, as did his stalwart commitment to whatever task he was presented with. Yes, Oliver confirmed, Derrik was something along the lines of a Bionic Man, maybe even a Terminator.

  Not ten pumps in, Oliver began to huff and puff. His erratic two-handed pump method caused his blood pressure to surge and he could actually hear his heart beating in his ears. For several minutes he thought he might become the next victim, not by infection, but by myocardial infarction.

  The barrel was nearly full. Only a quarter more to go. Oliver watched as Derrik snacked from a plate full of dried fruit and nuts, cured salami and soda crackers. The young man didn’t say a lot and when he did it was usually only in response to a direct question. Oliver had been in Bayview with Derrik for almost the duration, some two plus months. If asked, he would only be able to recount the number of times he actually witnessed Derrik speak on one hand.

  “Those almonds?” Oliver said, his voice cutting through the silence. “What’re they salted? Garlic? Ever try the wasabi ones? Man, those’ll clear out your sinuses.”

  Derrik only stared as if he hadn’t understood the question. Shrugging, he returned to his meal.

  Not one to give in easily, Oliver pressed him. “So what do you think of our chances?” he said between pants. “Me, I think we can make it. It’ll be close, but if we push hard enough, I think we’ll get there in time. You?”

  Taking a bite of salami, Derrik stared straight ahead. Then, under his breath, muttered, “Maybe.”

  Oliver nodded as if this one word answer eliminated any misgivings he might have had. “Couldn’t agree more,” he said with a tinge of sarcasm.

  The attempt at conversation with Derrik ending as expected, Oliver turned his attention to his surroundings. He saw Janet and Catherine talking in what looked to be—to his surprise—a cordial manner. Acknowledging this with a cocked head, he then trained his gaze on Josh and Shelby, they conversing as Madeline performed some crazy, music-less dance. Puzzled, he shifted his focus across the station lot toward the repair stall where he discovered Abby and Tamara.

  Abby was sitting in a chair, Tamara on the ground at her feet when the elder girl suddenly rose and pointed at the sky. Tamara turned, then quickly got to her feet, following her sister’s finger.

  Normally, this sort of observation would spark little interest in Oliver were it not for the expression on Abby’s face. It superseded curiosity and interest. And if he had to describe it, would say it came damn close to fear.

  Oliver stopped pumping. Derrik looked up at him quizzically as Oliver jumped down from the bus. He walked away from the vehicle, craning his neck to get a look at whatever it was that had garnered so much attention.

  The focus seemed to be directed at the cliff face across the road. The setting sun still glowed orange somewhere behind it and the panorama of colors it created against the puffy patches of dusky clouds was breathtaking. But what the girls were looking at was anyone’s—

  Oliver froze solid in place. Is that what I think it is? he thought so loudly he wondered if he didn’t actually vocalize it. But a few more moments after his eyes adjusted to the light and he was sure. It was.

  A bird.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” he said quietly to himself.

  Backpedaling slowly toward Janet, he kept his eye on the airborne creature, which seemed to be in a holding pattern, circling slowly overhead. Within earshot, Oliver turned in the direction of Janet.

  “Hey, Janet? You might want to take a look at this.”

  “What is it?” she said, getting up and shuffling quickly to his side.

  “Looks like we’ve got a pet.” Oliver pointed at the bird.

  Derrik and Catherine hurried quickly over to join them, following the tip of Oliver’s finger into the lava-like sky. The bird stood out like a fly in carrot soup.

  “What in God’s name...” Janet said. “I haven’t seen a bird since July.”

  “What kind is it?” Catherine asked.

  “It’s a heron,” Madeline’s voice said from beside Catherine. “A Little Blue Heron to be exact. But that’s impossible.”

  “Why is that?” Catherine asked, the anxiety in her voice apparent.

  “Little Blue Herons are water birds,” Madeline explained. “As is the whole family of herons. They stick primarily to wetlands—shorelines, swamps—and eat mostly fish and insects.”

  Janet turned away from the bird and eyed Madeline. “How do you know this?”

  “I used to work with the Portland Audubon Society. I organized bird watching tours in and around the city. Believe me, that’s a heron.”

  Everyone turned his or her gaze back to the circling bird.

  “So then what’s it doing here?” Josh said, he and Shelby joining the group.

  “That is something I’m afraid I can’t answer,” Madeline responded. “The desert would be the last place I’d ever expect to see one.”

  Janet chewed her nail, eyeing the roving bird with scrutiny so intense her eyes looked as if lasers could shoot out of them at any moment.

  Catherine peered over at Tamara and Abby just as they glanced in her direction. Tamara hopped excitedly, pointing enthusiastically at the sky. Catherine nodded with exaggeration then gestured for them to come over.

  “All right,” Janet said finally, “I don’t like it. Let’s pack up and get out of here. Everybody on the bus.”

  With no arguments and few words, everyone instantly returned to their respective places and began gathering belongings. Nervous heads checked over shoulders, keeping tabs on the mysterious desert heron.

&
nbsp; “You two get on. I’ll be there in a minute,” Catherine said to Tamara and Abby.

  “Okay,” Abby replied. “But hurry.”

  “Yeah, mommy,” Tamara added.

  Abby was the first to the bus. She climbed onto the bottom step, but immediately stopped, her path blocked by Leanne who stood at the top of the small stairway. She glanced down at Abby with dark, bloodshot eyes.

  “Are we leaving?” Leanne asked timidly.

  “Right now,” Abby said. “Soon as everybody grabs their stuff we’re outta here.”

  Leanne nodded in a quick up-and-down motion. “Good. That’s good. We should go.” Turning around she scurried back to her seat, slinking onto the cushion like a cat and encircling herself with her arms.

  Abby climbed the remainder of the stairs then turned and held out a hand for her sister. Tamara clutched Abby’s outstretched palm, pulling herself up when she suddenly stopped mid-pull and wrenched free.

  “Mr. Sniffles!” she shrieked as she hopped back down the stairs.

  “Mom said to get on the bus,” Abby commanded.

  “I can’t leave him,” Tamara said, turning away. “He’s just over by the store. I’ll be back in just a couple—”

  Tamara’s voice locked in her throat. She had never before felt such an immediate surge of shock, fear and terror all at the same time. Her body felt like it weighed twice as much and the ability to form words seemed virtually impossible.

  Abby watched from the doorway, not in the mood for games. “Come on, Tam, let’s go.” She stepped down to the bottommost step. “Mom’s not gonna be happy if she sees you’re not on the bus.”

  Josh and Shelby approached Tamara, backpacks slung over each of their shoulders. Josh regarded Tamara and her state of suspended animation. “What’re you doing, waiting for a written invitation?”

  The brief smile that appeared on Josh’s lips instantly dissolved, his face metamorphosing into concern as he realized his sister wasn’t playing. But the real moment that clutched at his chest was when he discovered Abby in the doorway to the bus, her mouth agape in the initial stages of an earth-shattering scream.

  “Mom!” she hollered, her arm raised and her finger pointing toward the sky—this time in the opposite direction of the lone heron.

  Abby’s scream brought everyone to a standstill. Eyes searched for the origin of the terrified voice and when Abby was pegged as the source, those same eyes then followed her sky-bound finger to the summit of the cliffs that towered over the gas station mere feet away.

  Catherine whirled in place. The sight before her forced an involuntary moan. She craned her neck upward and back-stepped subconsciously.

  Swirling like a whirlpool of windblown leaves in the glowing afternoon sky were more birds.

  Hundreds of them.

  Janet gingerly stooped and grabbed her pack, never once letting her eyes stray from the avian mass above her.

  “Where’d they come from?” Catherine asked, her words coming out in a breathy, staccato rhythm.

  “I don’t know,” Janet said rising to her feet, her eyes dancing nervously across the sky. “But my guess is that our solo flyer was a scout.”

  Catherine turned and found that two of her three children still hadn’t boarded the bus. “Josh,” she hissed, “take your sister and get on the bus. Now.”

  Josh could only nod. He took Shelby’s hand in one of his then slowly stepped to Tamara, gently easing the scared girl’s hand into his other free hand.

  Oliver watched as Josh led Shelby and Tamara onto the bus, Madeline right behind them. He stared at the birds, their massive numbers undulating like a pulsing wave in the sky.

  Maneuvering himself to the back of the bus he discovered Derrik feverishly working to fill the remaining barrel.

  “I don’t know about this, D,” Oliver said. “I got a real bad feeling.”

  Derrik pumped repeatedly, each pull of the lever falling faster and faster. He turned and looked up, sweat just breaking on his brow. Spinning back around he put his head down and concentrated all his efforts into the fuel. “Me too,” he said quietly.

  Janet and Catherine walked backward side by side. Janet caught a glimpse of Oliver out of the corner of her eye.

  “What’s the word, Oliver?”

  “Maybe a fifth to go,” he said. “Maybe less.”

  “Leave yourselves enough time to get back on this bus,” Janet demanded more than requested.

  The bus, packed to the hilt as it was, was impassible from the rear. The two fifty gallon fuel barrels had been stored nearest the access doors. Everything else from food and water, to clothing and supplies had been packed tightly around the drums. Every last bit of usable space had been utilized. The only way onto the bus was through the front door.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll be there,” Oliver assured.

  No sooner had the words left Oliver’s lips than a new hyper-verbalized sentence replaced it. One filled with the compounded terror of the group, compactly fit into the howling timbre of one man.

  “Here they come!” Oliver screamed.

  The massive array of birds suddenly swooped, as if a cloud had opened and instead of rain, birds fell. They swarmed with purpose, charging hard at the people on the ground.

  Catherine and Janet turned and sprinted.

  “Oliver, Derrik!” Janet shrieked. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

  Derrik had already pulled the siphon from the barrel and tossed it between the two, fuel spilling sloppily from the end of the hose. He slammed the doors and latched them shut in a blink of an eye as he hopped down and ran after Oliver who was almost to the bus entrance.

  Catherine raced up the stairs and into the aisle. She quickly took a head count of her children and breathed a sigh of relief that would have put out a campfire at the sight of them all.

  Janet hopped the stairs, spinning in place as she reached the top. She held out her hand to a panting Oliver as he placed a foot on the first step.

  “Where the fuck is Derrik?” she shouted, yanking him the rest of the way into the bus.

  “Right behind me.”

  Tamara was crying, tears streaming down her face as she pressed herself up against the window. Catherine leaned over the seat in front of her.

  “We’re going to be okay, baby. Everything’s—”

  “Mr. Sniffles!” Tamara bawled. She smacked the glass with her palms and pointed across the parking lot to where the stuffed animal lay.

  Derrik fast-jogged alongside the bus. He saw Oliver vanish through the door and knew that he was the last. He glanced quickly at the onslaught of birds descending upon the gas station. He had plenty of time. Even at their rapid rate of descent he knew he would make it. Heck, he could probably walk the rest of the way with time to spare.

  But then something jarred him from his attention on the birds. Something on the bus, just above him. Looking up he discovered a pair of palms flattened against the glass, banging repeatedly against it. He could immediately tell the small hands belonged to Tamara. And when those hands pointed frantically beyond the glass to somewhere across the lot, Derrik knew in an instant what the source of her anguish was.

  Earlier in the day, he’d seen Tamara saunter off with her older sister and play tag just after lunch. She’d set her elephant in a sunny patch of asphalt beside the concrete parking curb where she ate.

  Derrik glared across the lot and pinpointed the doll—it was right where Tamara had left it. He tore his gaze skyward at the rapidly approaching birds, their numbers looming larger with each passing second.

  If I’m fast enough, he thought.

  Without a second’s hesitation, Derrik raced away from the bus and made a beeline for the stuffed animal. His eyes danced back and forth between his prey and those that preyed on him. Almost there, he shouted internally.

  His footsteps echoed dully off the asphalt, each stride growing in strength and speed as his momentum built. The elephant was only a couple of feet away and Derrik knew he needed
to maximize the recovery of it so as not to break his forward drive.

  With three or so steps to go, Derrik swung wide to the right of the animal and charged hard. He immediately cut back to the left and, continuing on this arc, ran up to the animal. In a move both graceful and expertly timed, Derrik leaned over, lowered his left arm and snatched the elephant from the ground without so much as a stutter step.

  Running with the immediacy of a man whose life may very well depend on his speed, Derrik straightened out and rushed for the bus door with everything he had.

  Janet leaned out from the first step, her arm extended as far as it would go. “Run, Derrik! Goddammit, faster!”

  Derrik saw Janet on the bus, saw her mouth moving but could hear no words. His thumping heart had drowned out everything but his breathing. He saw her face, though. And if there was anything to be derived from the pained expression upon it, it was that he wasn’t moving fast enough.

  In a move he knew would slow him down, Derrik turned in mid-stride and glanced back over his shoulder. As soon as he wrenched himself around to see he knew it was a mistake. The bus was within distance now and perhaps if he’d just put his head down and pushed for the door he would’ve had a shot. But the sight shrieking in so close behind him left no illusion as to his chances.

  He wasn’t going to make it.

  Derrik found Tamara in her window. There was an odd mix of hopefulness and unadulterated fear on her face. Her hands were curled into fists that were thrust in front of her chin, and her eyes winced chillingly.

  The first wave swooped low and undercut him at the knees. Derrik crashed violently to the ground, his arms smashing into the pavement. Birds swarmed past him and he could swear it looked as if they were leaving contrails in their wake as thin ropes of smoke marked each bird’s path.

  He could see Janet scream from the steps of the bus. Could distinguish the rising horror that hijacked her face as a tight line of birds dipped and upended him again—then headed her way.

  Birds began to peck at his flesh. He could feel stinging bite marks on his arms and the back of his neck. And as it turned out, it wasn’t his imagination—the birds were smoking.