Where the Rock Splits the Sky

by Philip Webb

  We both bank our horses at the town’s edge, not wanting to charge into the hanging jungle of cables and pipes. There has to be a way in, a way to safety.

  To my right a wolf bounds toward me, trying to clip Cisco’s hoofs. He’s so close I can see the yellow of his eyes, the snap of his jaws. I take a potshot with the Colt and there’s a whimper as he falls back. Other wolves are closing in. I can’t steady Cisco to take aim.

  But then another shot rings out and the dirt beside me kicks up.

  There, leaning over a wall at the edge of the town directly above is a figure. Long blond hair spills over her face as she cups her mouth and yells.

  “The far side! There’s a hill! It’s the only way up!”

  The wolves are nearly upon us. We have to risk the passage beneath the town. The floating town! What if it should fall now? Clods of earth rain down as if the buildings have just been uprooted. From above comes the muted wail of sirens. No, not sirens — vehicle alarms. Which also cannot be true. In the Zone, no machines function. It must be something else. I lead the way, weaving between misshapen stalactites of concrete. A dark shaggy roof blocks off the sky. The horizon ahead is held in a vice between two grips of land, but as the blond girl promised, there are the slopes of a hill.

  The barking of the pack reaches a frenzy as I urge more from Cisco. He’s tiring now, but he thunders up the hillside, slipping as I pull him into the tightest turn I dare. The place is alive with wolves — they bound among the shrubs. Up, up, up … I snatch a glance behind — Luis is just a stride away, his horse flailing in the dust.

  “Come on!” I yell.

  There are fissures and boulders — the route I pick is pure instinct. No second chances. If we dead-end now, the wolves will have their kill.

  I hit the top, and the town opens out before me. Unbelievably, there is a police patrol car parked on the edge of a sheared-off road. Its hazards are on — blue beacons in the glare of the sun. But as I pull ever closer, I see the hitch.

  There’s a gap between us and the road.

  Steel rods poke from the chewed-up hardcore.

  Wolves are streaming up from the shadows under the town.

  There’s a ramp of rock at the narrowest point of the gap. But it’s still a big ask. Even a fresh Cisco without all my expedition gear would be hard-pressed. Last push. Luis comes up beside me …

  We both take the jump at the same moment full stride. The Appaloosa forges ahead — lands it strong and clean. I know Cisco’s given it everything. But he’s too ragged … There’s a terrible lurch as his forelegs thump into the road, belly scraping the crumbled edge, hind legs bunching in to find a hold. We stagger to a stop. Poor horse — his legs tremble and buckle. But we’ve made it!

  Behind us the wolves gather, their jaws drooping. They dart about, looking for a way to reach us, but the gap is too great.

  “Hellzapoppin’, girlfriend. That was one mighty close call.” The Texas drawl is deadpan, almost bored. She gazes at Luis as he slides from the saddle, doubled up from exhaustion. “Figured you two for wolf dinner, or breakfast. Hey, you got any idea what time it is? Hell, I don’t even know what day it is. That sun sure is pretty but it ain’t budged in all the time I been here. Like to say that was the weirdest thing about waking up today. But, well, you know about the flying town of Valentine, I guess.”

  I hang over Cisco’s mane, trying to catch my breath, staring at the blond girl. She slouches on the patrol car hood, with her boots propped up on the fender, rifle cradled across her lap. She stares at me through mirrored sunglasses and chews extravagantly at some gum. She is my age, dressed in an enormous shaggy fake-fur coat, industrial orange pants, and red pixie boots. Pre-Visitation clothes.

  Slowly, what she’s just said sinks in.

  Valentine? Valentine used to be on I-90 a good twenty-five miles west of here, but every last brick of it disappeared on Visitation Day twenty years ago, together with every living soul that called the place home. There’s just a crater where it once stood. And now it has returned. And the girl before me knows nothing about how the world stopped spinning. For her, all this has only just happened. She’s one of the disappeared. She’s an abductee.

  “What are you wearing, missy? Looks like you took a wrong turn into the 1800s. What’s the deal? Is it the Fourth of July today? Mardi Gras parade?”

  I glance at Luis as the realization dawns across his face. He reaches for his shotgun slowly, but I warn him off with a tiny shake of the head.

  “It is how we all dress now,” I manage at last. “In the vicinity of the Zone at least.”

  She slides off the hood, hefts up the rifle, and pumps a careless shot at the wolves.

  “Vinner-city? Where’s that? Are we even in Texas?” Her drawl is so stretched, she sounds under the influence.

  “This is still Texas,” I say carefully. I feel no threat from her, but she could be a Visitor in a stolen body, like the outlaws. Equally she could have survived abduction, she might be human — why else would she help us escape the wolves?

  “Are there others here?” I ask.

  “Nope. SCRAM!” she yells at the wolves and aims again.

  I swing down from Cisco and grab the barrel.

  “Hey!”

  “Enough shooting. There are people out here in the Zone worse than those wolves and I do not want to draw them here.”

  “Well, listen up, Calamity Jane. I just saved your sweet ass back there, so how about you loosen up some and tell me what’s going on, since you’re the expert and all?”

  Is this a trick? Have we been forced into a trap so soon? We must determine if this girl is real or Visitor. My quivers are silent on the matter. But I really don’t like the way her eyes are hidden from view. I stare at two images of myself in her sunglasses — I look like a desperate fugitive. Desperate and scared.

  “We need water for the horses,” I tell her. “Is there any to be had in the town?”

  “Sure,” she answers at last. “Pipes are dry, but there’s a water tower yonder by Denny’s.”

  She sounds genuine enough, but I remember the way the outlaw Visitor mimicked the voice of Bud Haslett.

  “You drove that vehicle?” I point at the patrol car.

  “I ain’t legal ’til next summer, but my brother, Lloyd, learned me the basics …” She trails off, suddenly angry at justifying herself. “What are you, the sheriff?”

  I look in through the driver’s window. “Radio?”

  “Dead as a drill bit, honey. Look, there’s just me, OK?”

  She pulls off her sunglasses. She’s got mascara on, smudged like she’s been crying. The tough-girl act is looking frayed at the edges.

  I take a pace closer and try to see if there’s anything peculiar about her eyes.

  “Megan,” warns Luis.

  “It’s OK.”

  “Hey, what is it with you two? I helped you out. Now, I ain’t looking for a cheerleader dance, but seems like you ain’t a whole lot surprised about my hometown being midair, so maybe you can return the favor and tell me what in the hell is going on?”

  Another step closer. I peer hard at her eyes. They are hazel, clear whites — quite beautiful. Not a hint of golden fire. She is bewildered and scared and human, I decide. And suddenly, I feel sorry for her. There are no easy explanations when it comes to the Zone and Visitation Day. Especially for true abductees. They are notoriously fragile.

  “Your town … disappeared,” I begin. “It has now returned.”

  “Disappeared?” She throws a suspicious look at Luis, perhaps wondering why he keeps his distance, not saying a word to her. “Well, where’s it been at?”

  “I don’t know.” Arguably the truth.

  I look past her for the Denny’s. The main street ahead is torn in places and it undulates gently, which is making me feel queasy. I have heard of abductees returning in one piece, but never whole towns. Perhaps this girl is genuine, but Visitors may still lurk here, hidden for now. I fetch Cisco — he is
weary but does not seem spooked by the girl’s presence.

  “I heard car alarms,” I say.

  “Yep, they been going off now and again. I yanked out the batteries, trying to give my ears a rest …” She skips ahead of me, like she wants to lead the way.

  “Megan …” Luis’s hand hovers near the shotgun.

  “Relax, Luis.”

  “Yeah, you said it. Relax, buddy. Things is spooky enough without you hitting the panic button.”

  Luis fires spit at the road and follows at a distance, leading his horse. He does not take his eyes off the girl. I know what he’s thinking. Even if she’s not a Visitor, what can we do to help her? In towns like Marfa, they don’t take chances. Abductees who return are sometimes hanged anyway. Who knows what devilry has been planted inside them?

  I stare at the billboard sign for the Eightball Motel — the M and the T flash and flicker. Other lights blink toward the far end of the town.

  “Freaky, huh?” says the girl. I can tell she is uneasy about the silence, about Luis staying back. “I mean, we ain’t exactly hooked up to the grid no more, right? I tried TV, but there ain’t no signal. Look, do you know anything here? I mean, are they sending anyone, like the army or somebody?” Her voice cracks a little.

  I look at her. Where do I even start?

  Luis calls out to me in Spanish, “We should not be here, Megan. The Zone drove us here, no? We can’t help her.”

  He is right. There is nothing we can do. But, still, it feels wrong to withhold the truth from her.

  “It is not safe here for you,” I begin. “Men will come to strip the town and they will not take kindly to abduct … They will not take kindly to strangers.”

  “I ain’t a stranger. I was born and raised in Valentine …”

  “You must believe me. You are a stranger now. The world … has changed.”

  She stands in front of me. “Now, you be straight with me! What’s going on? Where the hell is everyone?”

  Luis reaches for the shotgun. I hold up my hand to stop him. I do not have time to explain this in any detail that will make sense to her. Her best chance of survival is to get a federal handler, someone who can examine her properly, quarantine, rehabilitation. Abductees need counselors, and I am not qualified …

  “Please!”

  “You will not be ready for the truth.”

  She raises her eyes to the sky and seems to fight back more tears. “Hell, you think you’re doing me favors by keeping me in the dark here? I can see the whole town’s floating off to hell in a handbasket!”

  I take a deep breath and try to think how I would be in her situation. It is surely her right to know at least.

  “There has been extraterrestrial contact on Earth for some time. Your town was disappeared. You and all the inhabitants of Valentine were abducted. You don’t remember — no abductee ever does. You will not be able to account for the last twenty years …”

  I swallow my words when I see the awful shock on her face, the way her eyes dart about like a cornered animal’s. Her shoulders slump.

  “Twenty years? But I’ve just been asleep for a day.” Her voice is flat and dazed.

  “You won’t have aged. But I can assure you that many things are different. Nineteen states are now in the Zone — a lawless area that covers the Midwest and the Pacific coast. The world has stopped spinning. The moon is now rubble.”

  She gapes at me and I have no idea if my words are sinking in.

  “But my family?”

  “If they were here on Visitation Day, then they’re abductees, too.”

  “Well, where the hell are they?”

  “I cannot say. They are … missing. Some, like you, return. Unharmed. But …”

  “But what?”

  “Look, no one knows what happens to abductees. Maybe nothing. But folks here, especially around the Zone, they don’t trust the ones who come back. You’d be advised to lie low, contact the authorities in Houston.” These words sound ridiculous even as I utter them. How will she even get from here back to the Deadline border in one piece, let alone Houston? “At least there you’ll be given a fair hearing.”

  “A hearing? What is this — I’m breaking the law now? For not knowing what the hell you’re talking about?” She gives me a tentative smile. “You’re messing with me, right? I mean …”

  “Do you think I would joke about this situation?”

  I wait for a tirade of swearing and crying. I cannot begin to imagine what questions are building inside her. But she just sniffs and looks at the endless sunset.

  “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about wasting my life in Taco Shacko no more. Wish I’d told Wade where he could stick that job. Don’t suppose he’s yelling at folks to bus tables now.”

  I think of her family. “There is no actual evidence that missing abductees have been harmed.”

  “Yeah? Well, that don’t mean they ain’t roasting on a spit, neither.”

  I do not reply because she is, of course, right on this score. Time to concentrate on practicalities.

  “I can direct you over the Deadline border. You should avoid Marfa — I’d head for Fort Stockton …”

  “The Deadline border?”

  “Zone boundary — machines start working properly east of Highway 67. It’ll probably be more familiar to you — the towns and cities.”

  “I’m staying. The others might show — Lloyd, Mom, Dad …”

  I take her hand then. “What is your name?”

  “Kelly. Kelly Tillman.”

  “I cannot force you to listen to sound advice, Kelly, but if you do not leave this place, you will surely die. The Zone is a graveyard for those unschooled in its ways.”

  “I’ve got to find them.”

  I know that feeling — everyone I care about is gone, too, save Luis. I stare at her eyes, glittered with tears, and know in my heart she is one of us. But she is a lost cause — I cannot afford to help her.

  “What’s your name?” There’s a challenge in her voice, something new about her then.

  I turn away but she snatches at my sleeve. “Hey, don’t you turn your back! Don’t you dare!”

  I face her and harden my resolve. It is harsh, but there is nothing I can do for her. “I am Megan Bridgwater. I am sorry about you and your family. I have offered to direct you off-Zone but I have a heap of problems myself and I will not waste time here on your account. Unhand me.”

  But then Luis pulls the shotgun from the belt on his back and levels it at Kelly.

  Kelly looks at him and laughs. “Hold up, José. You gonna say something to me before you pull that trigger. Man, I’ve just about had it with you two!”

  “¡Silencio!”

  “Luis, it’s OK!” I cry. “Put the gun down!”

  “She’s liar,” he breathes. “She wait for us to come, no? She say she wake up here. Why she not try to leave this town?”

  “Well, that’d be the dumbest move ever, seeing as the country’s crawlin’ with wolves! I been searching the whole town for signs of life — ain’t that what you’d do if it was the last place you seen your folks?”

  “What you know about my people?” he says.

  “Luis, please put the gun away,” I plead.

  “No, Megan.” He does not look at me. His face is cold.

  I step between them.

  “Stay back, Megan. They lie, they get close, they take you. You know.”

  He pulls the shotgun to one side of my boots and blasts a round into the road. The noise echoes out onto the plain.

  “Move, Megan. I swear …”

  “Would she help us if she was one of them?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even.

  “Don’t matter. If she don’t know. Don’t matter. Is what they do — hide inside.” He taps his head. “Play innocent. Like real people.”

  “Hey, I’m still here, you know! Maybe you two could cut the crap and tell me straight up, yeah?”

  Luis spits to one side and cranks another
round into the chamber.

  “He thinks you’re a … Visitor,” I manage at last.

  “What? An alien. You think I’m from outer space.” She snorts in disbelief. “I’m Kelly Tillman, you dumbass. From 41 Montana Avenue, Valentine, Texas. What’s left of it. I canned seventh grade for a piece-of-crap job with lousy tips and lousy hours. I like singing. I can tell you how I like my eggs, who the president of the USA is. You ain’t tellin’ me I’m the outsider here. No way.”

  “They take human bodies as their own,” I answer. “They must if they are to walk on this Earth. Beneath the skin, they are not of this world. Some abductees are returned — truly themselves. But they are broken inside. And they are … not trusted.”

  Luis raises his gun slowly.

  Kelly narrows her eyes at me. “So how can you tell who’s regular and who’s alien?”

  “Their eyes are … different, sometimes.” I think about the one and only Visitor I have ever seen. “But they can mask the signs.”

  “Not when they die,” adds Luis.

  “Oh, great. That’s just cherry pie, that is. So I can’t prove who I am ’til I’m pegged out on a slab. Well, whoop-de-doo, how about you’re an alien also? And Pancho over there? And Miss America? And Daffy Duck? You got proof of your membership to the human race, eh?”

  “You’re abductee,” says Luis.

  “She’s safe, Luis. I know it. Lower your gun. I trust her.”

  “And him?” She glances over my shoulder.

  “Fools trust,” answers Luis. “My family, all killed by Visitors — I see with these eyes.”

  Kelly steps to one side of me, and there is a clear line of fire.

  “So come on, then, big shot. Do the deed. You ain’t gonna be sure ’til you pull the trigger, so let’s get it over with.”

  We stand in a triangle, stuck almost, and in that moment my head is filled with a heavy pain, like an instant migraine. Not a vision this time, but dozens of thoughts arriving at once, from nowhere. Three eggs in a kestrel nest I found once. The tripod stand of Pa’s camping stove. My aunt reading Genesis, chapter 3 — the fall of mankind … Three, three, three …

  A warning from the Zone? A message from somewhere? A trick, maybe? I cannot decipher it. And then all at once the thoughts and the pain vanish.