by Hamill, Ike
At the mention of the bones, the woman he’d called “Tib” let out a tiny sigh of disapproval.
“Yeah, kids catch ‘em and then burn ‘em up on the altar,” Luke said. “You don’t know better. I didn’t keep my light on long though. I had just sat down when I heard a noise comin’ through from the entrance. It kinda sounded like wind, but it was too steady. It was like a high-pitch train whistle or something. Gave me a chill. I didn’t even notice when the noise stopped, but then I was hearin’ different sounds and the first one was gone. The new ones sounded like ‘swish,’ only real fast. There was something menacing ’bout these new sound. Made me flinch back. Like the sound of a circular saw would if you all of a sudden didn’t quite know where your fingers were.”
Frank smiled and nodded. Brad watched his head dip up and down.
Luke continued—“With the lights off in a cave, you get real sensitive to noises, and these ones really bothered me. I fished out my lighter so I could make sure I was still alone. I mean it seemed like the sounds were coming from outside the cave, but with those sounds it was damn hard to tell. I grabbed one of the candles stuck on a ledge in the wall, lit it up, and then started shimmying even deeper into the cave. The cave goes back a ways before it gets serious. I waited around one of the turns to see if the noises would stop.”
“What do you mean ‘serious’?" Ted asked.
“You can just walk through the beginnin’ of it,” Luke said. “Then you get to a point where you have to chimney between two walls to get to the next room.”
Ted and several other people still seemed perplexed by the answer, so Luke continued his explanation—“You put your back against one wall and then put your feet against the other—they’re only about three feet apart. Down below, the crack goes down forever. Can’t see the bottom. You just shuffle sideways and it’s called chimneying. That’s what I mean by serious—serious climbing and risk to life and limb are involved.”
Luke took a second to reorient himself in the story.
“So I waited and waited. I blew out the candle for awhiles, then lit it up again. It’s hard waiting in the dark. You don’t know how long anything takes in a cave, and I didn’t have a clock except on my phone, and it had gone blank,” Luke said.
“When? When the deer stampeded? When you ran to the cave?" Ted asked.
“The clock? I don’t know for sure. I didn’t think to check it until I was in the cave. First time I checked it, it was blank,” Luke said.
As Luke continued, Brad watched Ted. The older man handed something to Robby; more accurately, he pushed it into Robby’s hand as Robby focused on the storyteller. Robby took it and flipped it open without looking down. It was a small notepad.
“So, like I said,” Luke said, “I don’t have an idea of how long I crouched, but it felt longer than hell. The gap between the swish noises got bigger an’ bigger, until it seemed like they were about to stop. I crawled back to the altar room without the light and then waited even more. I wanted to get out. Now that I look back, I almost wanted those noises to still be goin’ when I got outta there. I wanted to see what they were, you know? Curiosity. Nuthin’ more. Had I known, I woulda just sat right there.” Luke shook his head slowly.
“I crawled out,” Luke said. “One of them whoosh sounds went by as I crawled out from under the rock. The sun was up by then, but the sky looked funny. I ran through the woods as quiet as I could and tried to head for where I’d parked my truck. I got a hot stitch in my right side, and I could barely breathe, I was runnin’ so fast, but I didn’t slow down until I saw a little patch of my red truck through the woods. Then WHOOSH! One of those things came down right on top of me. I heard it comin’, and I got tangled up in a branch so I was falling when it grabbed my back. The thing lifted me about a foot or two by my back and then somethin’ off to the north exploded.”
Luke picked up his glass and took a sip of water. He ran his tongue over his lips while everyone watched.
“I guess it was just dumb luck that the thing got distracted. I suspect the loud noise drew it away. I never did find out what blew up, but it sounded pretty damn big. After the boom, I could hear stuff falling—crashing back to the ground—for several seconds. I figured out later that the way the thing picked me up was weird. It didn’t touch my jacket or my shirt, but it just grabbed ahold of me—just the flesh. I found three big scrapes and a chunk of meat missing from my shoulder, but my clothes weren’t ripped one bit.”
“Did you get a look at it?" Ted asked.
“I did,” Luke said. “I did. I don’t know what to tell you, though. When it let go of me, I was fallin’ back to the ground, but I flipped over enough to see. It was like a hole in the world. Wherever the thing was, nuthin’ else was. I can’t tell you more than that.”
Brad was watching Robby this time and saw him pass the notepad over to Ted. The older man barely glanced down and then asked a question—“What was the size of the hole?”
“It’s a good question,” Luke said, “but I can’t answer it. I’d hafta assume how far away it were, you know? If it were ten feet up, then I ‘spose it was only ‘bout five, six feet across. But if it were fifty feet up, then maybe thirty feet across. Because it wasn’t a thing, it was like a absence of anything.”
“But it had claws,” Ted said.
“I never said claws,” Luke said, wagging his finger. He turned his finger over to Robby and asked—“Boy, why don’t you just ask me your questions directly?”
Robby straightened up and tugged his shirt down before answering—“It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t from me.”
“The hell it wasn’t,” Luke said. “I’ll finish the rest of my story without y’all questioning my account, if you don’t mind.” He paused and swept his eyes around the room.
Brad wanted to hear the rest of the story. He felt Luke didn’t have cause for indignation, but he really didn’t care either way. He just wanted to hear the rest of the story.
“Like I said, I hit the ground like a sack of dumbbells, but I didn’t even feel the pain in my back yet,” Luke said. “I rolled to my feet and got running again. This time I hunched over, kinda looking up over my shoulder. I drove the same way—I hunched down in my seat and looked up through the windows. Nearly ran my truck off the road a couple of times. I was so busy lookin’ up and drivin’ fast that I’m not sure how I made it down to the main road in one piece. I went straight for town; I didn’t even stop at my house. I didn’t know yet, but I was soaking my shirt with blood.
“When I got to the center of town, everything was deserted, but I didn’t think much of it. It was still early, a’course, and Thanksgiving and all. Down near the Sheriff’s office there’s a Sevum-’Levum—always open and always a deputy or two hanging ’round. Not this time though—the place was empty. Door was wide open, lights on, nobody home. I went back around the counter and I nearly jumped outta my skin when the light shut off. I figured someone out back shut ‘em, but then I saw out the window—everything had gone off. Exxon sign across the corner, red lights, everything was off. I figured the power went out.
“I went through a ton of buildings and I couldn’t find a soul. Hell, I couldn’t even find a dog or a cat. The whole town had just emptied out. I’ve got to take a break if y’all don’t mind,” Luke said. “My throat’s givin’ out.”
Luke got up and headed for the door. After a couple of seconds, Frank got up and followed him out to the parking lot.
Brad turned to Judy, who gripped her coffee cup with both hands.
“That’s crazy,” Brad said to her. “I can’t imagine what attacked him.”
“Sheila has a similar story,” Judy said.
“Oh? Who’s Sheila?” Brad asked. He glanced around the room. A few people left their tables to move around or wander outside, but most of the twenty-four people still sat at their tables. Several people who started out the evening sitting alone now joined one of the tables with two or three people. Brad sat with Judy, and on th
e other side Robby and Ted were loosely associated with their table.
Judy pointed her coffee mug at a woman who stood to gather some plates and take them to the kitchen—“She’s Sheila. See her limp?”
Brad couldn’t help but notice the limp.
“When one of the things grabbed her it nearly split her right calf in two. She’s got about three pounds of tape holding her leg together,” Judy said.
“Whoa,” Brad said. “The way you and Robby described it, it sounded like people were just vanishing into thin air.”
“Robby was on an island,” Judy said. “Sheila was down in Mass, and it sounds like Luke was down in Maryland or whatever. Who says they experienced the same kind of thing?”
“I guess,” Brad said.
“I saw a couple of people disappear with my own eyes,” Judy said. “I couldn’t begin to say what actually happened to them.”
“But I thought you were a proponent of the whole Rapture concept. If you knew about Sheila, then why all the talk about people being raptured?” Brad asked.
“How do you know the rapture doesn’t happen that way?" Judy asked.
“Swooping down on people and nearly tearing them apart?” Brad asked.
“Just their physical manifestations, right? Transformation can be both destructive and constructive, don’t you think?" Judy asked.
“I guess I’ve never thought about it,” Brad said.
“Isn’t it funny?” Judy spoke to her coffee mug. “The world ends and as far as we know every single person within a hundred-mile radius gathers at a shitty Denny’s for what amounts to a status meeting. I can’t tell you how many marketing campaign meetings I sat through just wishing the world would end so I wouldn’t have to endure even one more second of formless conjecture. Now I’ve willingly subjected myself to listening to some hillbilly messiah spin a yarn about his heroic journey.”
“Humans need human contact,” Brad said. “They can try to isolate themselves, but eventually they gather together.”
The door to the parking lot swung open and Frank entered, followed by Luke. They took their seats as the chatter at the tables died down.
Nobody spoke for a moment and then Ted broke the silence—“You have the floor, Luke.”
Luke nodded and cleared his throat.
“I wandered ’round for a few days ’fore I figured I should make my way to a city to see what’s what. I headed east through Maryland and parts of Virginia. I traded cars coupla times. The truck made so much noise that I just felt conspicuous. Down there the roads are empty. There’s no cars anywhere ’cept in parking lots and driveways, so it was pretty easy going. I din’t have any problems at all until I got to the suburbs of DC. I’d already been through Hagerstown and Frederick, and everythin’ was the same as out west, so I kinda figured nothin’ would be new. But I got up one morning to leave Gaithersburg and I realized there was a glow on the horizon in the direction of DC.
“There was no smoke at all, but this glow. And I know it couldn’t have been real, but I thought I could feel heat coming from that direction too. The first time I saw it I was crossing the Cabin John bridge. I mean, the whole time I was thinkin’ somebody prolly left a teakettle on or somethin’ and the city was burning down. I figured as soon as I saw flames or smoke, I’d just turn around. But when I saw those flames runnin’ up and down the Potomac river, I din’t know what to do.
“It wasn’t like the whole river was on fire or anythin’, but there were these bands, like ribbons of fire strung out across the water from bank to bank. They’d zip up and down stream, crossin’ each other, breakin’ up and then formin’ again. Some of them were blue and green, but most were red and orange, and they was bright. It was hot just to look at them. Even from up on the bridge I could feel sweat breaking out on my forehead. While I was sitting there, just idling in a little BMW I’d picked up, I saw one of those ribbons break off a piece of fire and head over to the shore. Once it hit ground it zipped up through the tops of trees like a fuse. It din’t burn the trees up, but it traveled across them from limb to limb. When it got really close to the bridge, I couldn’t see it anymore. I was about to jump out to look where it went when it flipped up over the rail and started burnin’ right on the road surface at the end of the bridge.
“It was still just a single piece of flame, like a little column from a candle, but about ten feet high. I put the Beemer in reverse and ease into the gas, hoping the fire wouldn’t notice me. My eyes was locked on the flame, but movement in my rearview caught my eye. Directly behind me, two flames came up over the rails and were milling around. Before I could step on the gas, those little torches zipped over and started to burn up the back of my car. It went from a nice fall day to Africa-hot faster than I could yell. I got out of the car and ran right for the edge. I guess I was ready to jump over the edge, but I din’t have to.
“Those flames only cared about the BMW, and they only cared until it stopped running. They din’t torch the thing, really, or make it blow up. One of them went around to the hood, disappeared under the engine and then the next thing I knew, the BMW was shut off. I was still grippin’ the railing of the bridge as the flames wandered away. One went back over the edge of the bridge and through the woods. The other one made its way to the other end of the bridge and joined the first flame. They were both orange and red, but when they joined together they burned hot and blue, like a butane torch. I could feel the heat double when they combined.
“I didn’t go much further into the city. The flames were everywhere and if I even started a car, they’d show up and put it out. I rode a bike for a while, but they caught on and snuffed that too. They burned up the tires and fused the chain to the chainring. So I walked and walked.
“The first living thing I saw was a horse. He was stomping around his paddock, lookin’ half-starved and thirsty. Really fancy house and barn and pastures right there inside the beltway. I din’t know such a thing existed, but I guess when you have money anything’s possible. I found him some hay and managed to draw some water with a hand-pump—got him squared away. In the barn they had a whole harness and cart thing, but I was afraid the fire would come after that too. I tried him with the saddle though. That bastard horse is so big, it’s like riding a damn couch, but he’s good under saddle. The two of us went north—the fire seems worse to the south and west—and we came all the way up through Pennsylvania, New York, and then east through Massachusetts until we turned north and ended up here.
“I found a place though—a big farm in the hills of upstate New York. I mean to go back and settle there. It’s got good visibility and a herd of horses who din’t disappear like everything else. I figured I’d throw it out there. Thought maybe some of you would go with me,” Luke said.
“To where? New York?" Ted asked.
“Yes, that’s what I said,” Luke said.
A low murmur spread through the group as if they, like Ted, were just starting to grasp Luke’s proposal.
“Why is New York better than here?" Sheila asked, straightening up in her chair.
“Like I said, there’s horses there and a farm on a hill,” Luke said. “There’s a pond out back the horses drink from, and pastures. There’s plenny of room for a summer garden, and a greenhouse next to the barn. The place still has life in it.”
“That might just make it the next target,” Ted said.
“Like we’re not a target here?" Frank asked. His voice sounded a little frantic.
Luke patted the table next to Frank to settle him down. “I covered a big chunk of ground in the past couple of months, and I’ve only seen a couple signs of life. There’s a band of scattered souls here, where the snow is only a coupla inches deep, and then there’s this pocket down in New York. You folk up here are livin’ right on the edge. You got corpses a few miles south, and lord-knows-what up there in a snow drift covering most of the state. Personally, I’d prefer to put some distance between myself and those things.”
Another wave of w
hispered comments swept through the crowd, but to Brad the approval seemed to shift towards Luke.
Ted stood and waited until the sound died down and the eyes turned back to him—“Thank you Luke and Brad for sharing your stories. I don’t see any other new faces tonight, so I’d like to get back to what I was saying about Rob’s ideas. He has some thoughts about our situation and he’d like to share them now.”
Brad looked over at Robby, and followed Robby’s gaze over to Luke. Luke folded his arms and settled into a deep slouch.
“I agree with Luke,” Robby said. “I definitely want to put some distance between us and the corpses and whatever is up in the snow.”
Robby waited a breath before he continued.
“But the world we knew has ended. We have to assume it ended everywhere. We can’t ignore the strange forces that brought us here. We can continue to be victims of it, or we can try to find a way to stop it. I suggest we first drive out the cause of the world’s destruction, and then we can sneak off to New York and settle in the hills,” Robby said. As he spoke the last sentence, he looked directly at Luke, as if his statement were an accusation.
“How you gonna fight things we don’t even understand?" Luke asked. “Have you seen the columns of fire that chase down anything mechanical and burn it up? Have you seen the smart water trails that eat up anything that touches them? What about Brad’s rock monster? You have a way to drive out rocks?”
“I do,” Robby said.
During the verbal sparring, Brad had felt solidly on Robby’s side. But Robby’s last statement went too far. In Brad’s opinion, the young man possessed the preposterous confidence only youth could grant.
“Huh,” Luke said, voicing the group’s doubt.
“The short version is this—we go south and gather as many corpses as we can. We’ll need at least a several hundred; a thousand would be better. Then we head northeast. We’ll find the main encampment somewhere near Kingston. That thing wants to use the corpses, but not yet. By bringing them early, we’ll be able to drive off whatever brought the snow, the rocks, the fire, and the cleanup liquid.”
