Sibylla of Earth

by A. D. Baldwin

  Anais turned to look at Sibylla, her face twisted into a bitter frown. “Remember when I told you it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought would be?” she asked.

  Sibylla nodded.

  “Well, I guess I was wrong.” Anais’s pale skin was red against the harsh cold. And her green eyes burned with an unmistakable anger. Turning around, she marched through the snow toward Sibylla, her breath trailing in puffs of smoke. “Fucking assholes. I can’t believe they’d do this to us.”

  Sibylla tried to stay standing, but her mind was drifting from the blood loss. Losing her balance, she braced herself against one of the trees, feeling herself about to faint. “Could’ve been worse,” she said, her hand slipping from the trunk. “You could’ve been shot in the leg.”

  Anais rushed out to Sibylla before she fell, catching her by the waist and guiding her toward one of the smaller boulders nearby, where she sat her softly.

  “Nice catch,” Sibylla said.

  “Hey, what can I say? I was the fastest in the Air Force.”

  “Good to know.”

  Anais dropped to a squat, then reached behind Sibylla’s thigh, examining the wound with her fingers. Sibylla winced at the touch.

  “I think the bullet went through,” Anais said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you’ve got a big fucking hole in the back of your leg.”

  Sibylla snorted despite the pain. Anais was a smart ass, but she liked her.

  “We have to stop the bleeding,” Anais said, her eyes searching the ground for something to use.

  “My laces.”

  Anais nodded.

  Steam slipped from the Redhead’s mouth as she worked to tie the lace around Sibylla’s thigh. Right away, the blood began to slow down, and Sibylla felt her heart rate begin to steady.

  “There,” Anais said. She rose to her feet and turned to face the forest, taking it in with a sweeping glance.

  “Do you know where we are?”

  “Not yet,” Anais said. She reached behind her neck and unzipped the back of her bodysuit all the way down past her waist.

  Sibylla flinched as she saw the top of Anais’s butt. “Whoa! What the hell are you doing?”

  “Trying to find out where we are.”

  “By showing me your ass?”

  “By accessing one of the satellites.” Anais pulled a data scroll from the side of her waist, then held it up to the sky, angling it like a compass.

  Wow, Sibylla thought, impressed with the woman’s talent. Smuggling wasn’t easy. Those who could do it were assets. Dillon would’ve liked this girl, and not just for her smarts either.

  With narrowed shoulders, curvy hips, and long legs, Anais was the epitome of femininity. But as Sibylla examined the tattoo at the base of her neck, recognizing the eight-pointed star, she was quickly hit with the realization that Anais wasn’t a girl, at least, not in the traditional sense.

  “You’re an Ascended?” Sibylla asked.

  Anais spun around in surprise, a look of horror on her face. She reached for the tattoo on her back and covered it with her hand, struck by the fact that she’d forgotten about it.

  The Ascended, from what Sibylla understood, was a community of transgenders who saw their transitioning as a spiritual passage to a higher level of humanity, a journey from the physical body to the spiritual self. Apart from the rumors that they were perverted creatures, who sacrificed defenseless animals to a monster from another demention, there really wasn’t much else she knew about them.

  “That’s the symbol, right?”

  Anais’s lips tightened. “And you have a problem with that?”

  “No, I just thought—”

  “Look, just cause I’m not a criminal doesn’t mean I can’t fight back.” Anais’s hands balled into fists, and she angled her body into a fighter’s stance.

  Taken aback by the reaction, Sibylla raised her hands in surrender. “Relax, I can barely stand, remember?”

  Anais studied her reply through thoughtful eyes, a guarded hesitation as she lowered her hands. Then, seeming to decide that Sibylla wasn’t a threat, she tucked the data scroll back into her body suit and zipped it up again. “None of the satellites could pick up the location of the Nest. The resonance signal must be as strong as they say it is.”

  “So, we’re fucked?” Sibylla asked.

  “Not completely. There’s a wide plateau east of here. Maybe a mile out. If the Nest is close by, that’s where we’ll find it.”

  Sibylla cringed at the prospect of walking again. Movement would only make her heart beat faster, pumping out what little blood she had left through the open wound in her thigh. She needed to rest, to conserve her energy. But they were alone here in the forest, she knew, stranded without any knowledge of where they were supposed to go.

  Usually, she could rely on her sense of direction to get them out of there. Yet, as lightheaded as she was, she could barely speak, let alone concentrate.

  “Fine,” Sibylla said. She reached for Anais’s hand and stood. “Let’s go.”

  The trail lead through a narrow gorge, that curved out into a snake-like pattern. The snow was shallower here but still riddled with jutting rocks that made it painfully difficult for Sibylla to hop through, even with Anais’s help.

  “So, how’d you figure it out?” Anais asked.

  Sibylla gritted her teeth as she navigated around a wide boulder. “Figure what out?”

  “The wings.”

  Sibylla shrugged. “The mascot at my elementary school was an eagle. I had to learn all there was about that dumb bird. Some Eagles actually toss their young from the nest to teach them how to fly. So, I checked the lining of our suits and voila.”

  Anais snorted. “Well, pat yourself on the back, because you probably just saved the entire recruiting class. At least most of them.”

  Sibylla grimaced as she remembered the number of recruits that had drifted over the horizon to their deaths, regretful that she couldn’t have done more to help them. “Yeah, huh?”

  The walls of the gorge were painted with purple shadows, organic shapes that told stories about the evolution of its growth. It was so beautiful, so natural. Sibylla wanted to touch the walls, to feel the roughness of its surface. But didn’t so that she could conserve her energy.

  “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” Anais asked, her head angling upward as she tried to take in its height.

  “It is,” Sibylla agreed. “I just wish I was here under different circumstances. Before you know it, the seas are going to rise, war is going to come, and we’ll all be dead.”

  “Damn,” Anais replied. “Didn’t know what an optimist you were.”

  “Sorry,” Sibylla said. “I just hate where the world’s going. There’s so much beauty out here, so much life. And all we do as a species is fight.”

  Anais shot her a look. “Sounds strange coming from someone who killed her boyfriend and his brother.”

  Sibylla blinked. The blood loss had clouded her judgment. She’d let her guard down. Focusing her thoughts, she replied, “I did what I had to. Anyone in my position would’ve done the same.”

  Anais arched a brow at her. “If you say so.”

  They walked a few more yards, traversing through the mess of thick rocks and muddy earth, when, feeling dazed, Sibylla realized that she needed to start talking before she feinted. “Can I ask you something?”

  “What?” Anais asked.

  “How’d you get such a rocking body?”

  Anais smiled faintly. “They put me on hormones before I hit puberty.”

  “Well, they worked ‘cause you’ve got nicer ass than I do. And I’m not the only one who noticed.”

  Anais looked at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, come on, you didn’t see the way Tayshaun was looking at you?”

  Anais rolled her eyes, a deep blush marking the apples of her cheeks. “You must’ve been imagining things.”

  “No, he liked you.”
r />   Anais scoffed. “Are you kidding me? The Preacher?”

  “Sure,” Sibylla said, fighting the blurriness of her sight. “Maybe he’s into it.”

  “Into what?”

  “You know.”

  Anais shook her head. “I doubt it.”

  “You’ll never know until you try,” Sibylla continued.

  Anais sighed. “Look, as much as I’d want to, I’d rather stay alive.”

  “You think he’d hurt you?”

  Anais looked away, revealing a forlorn look that tugged at Sibylla insides. She could only imagine the prejudice she’d suffered over her life, especially in the military. Deciding not press the issue any further, Sibylla turned her attention back to the trek.

  The trail continued to the top of the hill where a line of large rocks, the size of chairs, sat overlooking a stream on the other side. “Wait here,” Anais said. She rested Sibylla against one of them and stepped away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I thought I heard some voices a couple of yards back. Gonna double back to see if I can find someone. Try not to die, while I’m gone, yeah?”

  Sibylla managed a nod before leaning back against the rock. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Good enough.”

  Sibylla watched as Anais set off down the hill, where she quickly disappeared into the forest like a ghost.

  Despite the cold chill, Sibylla was sweating profusely beneath her suit, and her blond hair was plastered across her cheeks and forehead. Wiping her brow, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  “You’ve really screwed up this time, huh?”

  Sibylla opened her eyes to the sound of Dillon’s voice and saw him kneeling before her. A gentle smile on his lips, he was as real as a tree from the forest. It was unbelievable.

  Sibylla blinked, wiped her eyes, then looked again. He was still there. “What the…”

  “Don’t try to figure it out.” He caressed the side of her face, his gaze falling to her lips as his thumb brushed them softly. His touch was warm against her cold skin, and she felt the pain in her thigh suddenly ease like a forgotten memory.

  His blond hair was loose around his thin face, and he was wearing a pair of black-framed Lenses, giving him the sophisticated look that she’d always loved. Dressed in a white t-shirt and faded blue jeans, he showed no signs of bruises, no deep cuts or rough gashes, where he’d been tortured, only the caring glow of the guy she’d grown to love.

  “Dillon?” She touched his face and felt the comfort of his taught skin.

  He gripped her hand and kissed the back of it with shut eyes, seeming to savor the moment as much as she was.

  “How’s this possible?” she asked, a tear running down her face.

  “Do you think I would’ve abandoned you so easily?”

  “No…it’s just…does this mean that you’re—”

  “Dead?”

  She lowered her gaze and nodded, terrified by what he might answer.

  “No.”

  She sighed in relief. “Then I don’t understand.”

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “What?”

  “Something is coming.”

  “What?”

  “Something that no one’s prepared for.”

  “Dillon, you’re not making any sense.”

  “Listen to me, Sibylla!”

  Sibylla recoiled at the word, startled by the way he’d used her full name. He’d never done that before—ever—not even when they’d fought, and he was mad at her. Pulling away, she crawled back on her hands away from him, her head angling to the side in suspicion. “Who are you?” she asked.

  For a moment, he appeared as if he was about to refute her suspicion. But then, bowing his head in admission, he spoke. “I am a messenger.”

  Sibylla frowned. “A what?”

  “A devoted servant that has reached out to warn you of the coming invasion.”

  Sibylla burst out laughing. She’d gone crazy. Completely and absolutely bonkers. “Invasion?”

  “The diseased one,” he said. “He’s coming to take this world, he’s coming to find—” His voice trailed off as if something behind him had pulled his attention. Turning slowly to the forest, he paused in silence.

  Sibylla felt it, too. It was a putrid feeling that crawled over her skin and slithered into her belly like a snake. “What is that?” she asked, cringing.

  He looked up to the army of clouds rolling by, and his voice fell to a whisper. “They know I’m here.”

  Thunder roared overhead, followed by a shocking streak of lightning, that threatened to split the sky in two. From the forest came a howling wind, tearing at the snow-covered trees and blinding Sibylla for a frightful moment.

  Dillon’s eyes then paled into two white marbles, and his lower jaw slipped agape, allowing a stream of blood to ooze from his mouth and onto the ground where it singed the earth like acid. Frightened, Sibylla shut her eyes and looked away. She didn’t understand what was happening. Was she imagining this? Was this a nightmare?

  When she opened her eyes again, she saw that the sky had calmed, and that the wind had died and that Dillon, once there in the flesh, was gone.

  8

  The Stream

  Sibylla stared at the ground in silence, wondering what had just happened. She’d never experienced a hallucination before and the idea of it was unsettling. But this had been so real, so lifelike. Heck, she’d even able to touch him. There had to be another explanation for it.

  Lying back against the rock, the memory of her father slipped into her mind and she remembered when he’d taken her on base for a family function. There were so many families, young parents with tiny children around Sibylla’s age. She remembered watching them as they played, their faces bright with smiles, their eyes wide as they sprinted over the green lawns, screaming and howling as they played tag and other games.

  “Can I go play with them?” she asked her father.

  He smiled. “Of course.”

  Sibylla raced out to join them, her high-pitched voice quickly adding to the chorus of laughter that filled the summer air. She ran and ran, until she tumbled to the ground, exhausted from the headiness of wild joy and bright sunlight.

  Lifting her head, she saw her father speaking to another man, his face darkened from the words they were sharing. Something was wrong, she knew. She sat up and stared, watching as her father rested a hand on the man’s shoulder before walking away.

  “Who was that man, daddy?”

  Her father joined her on the grass. “A soldier,” he said.

  “And what’s wrong with him?”

  Her father sighed. “He’s sick, Honey.”

  “Of what?”

  It took him a moment to answer. “Sometimes, Sweetie, we see things.” He bent over and kissed her on the head. “Things we wish we could forget.”

  “And can you?”

  “Sometimes,” he answered. “Sometimes.”

  Sibylla stirred from her mind as she heard the sound of rushing water. Turning her head, she lifted herself above the boulder and peered into the stream below. There was a woman, she saw. It was one of the recruits. Sibylla narrowed her eyes as she looked closer and realized that it was the bald female from the transport, the one who’d been shoved out of the transport first.

  She lied in the stream, her face staring up at the canopy of interlocking branches stretching out above her. In the middle, a clear hole of light beamed down upon her still body, revealing the path of broken branches she’d cleared as she plummeted into the shallow stream.

  Sibylla tried to crawl over the boulder, wanting to get closer. But she was too weak. And the pain in her thigh returned with a vengeance. Wincing, she lowered to the cold ground in defeat, frustrated as she thought of what to do.

  Suddenly, the trees began to rustle, and she saw a pair of recruits emerging from the edge of the forest. A young man and woman dressed in black body suits, they lowered into th
e stream with an air of suspicion, their boots splashing against the water as they made their way toward the dead body.

  For a second, Sibylla considered calling out to the pair. But she didn’t. There was something strange about them that made her hesitate.

  The first recruit was a young man with bright green hair and a gaunt face. Tall and lanky with bulging eyes, he reminded Sibylla of a praying mantis crawling along a branch. Throwing the hair from his view, he revealed a face marked by at least a dozen scars. Sibylla cringed.

  The second recruit, though, was stunning—an athletic beauty that Sibylla hadn’t remembered seeing on the Transport. With thick black hair and skin as pale as the snow, she was a striking creature, made even more beautiful by the pair of crystal-blue eyes crackling in the frigid air.

  When they reached the body, they simply stood in silence, gazing down at her in cold fascination. Eventually, the Brunette pulled out a data scroll from the back of her neck, and the other recruit quickly joined her in reading it. They stared at it for a long time, seeming perplexed by what they saw. Finally, their gazes lifted toward the East, and, after exchanging a few words, they began to march in the direction.

  Sibylla’s heart lifted. It was a map! They knew where they were going. She was just about to call out to them, when, from the stream, the body of the female recruit began to move.

  “Please!” the bald recruit moaned. “Help me.”

  Sibylla watched as the recruits turned around and stilled, the Brunette’s eyes narrowing with interest, as she motioned for the other recruit to wait. Wadding through the water, she squatted next to the dying woman and it was then, as she moved into the light overhead, that Sibylla noticed that she had a tattoo of an upside down cross on her left cheek.

  Blood spilled from the woman’s mouth as she began to speak, and her hand was trembling. Frowning, the Brunette recoiled at the gesture. She was disgusted by the woman. Sibylla had never seen anything like it, and her fingers curled against the skin of the boulder as she watched on in silence.

  Finally, as if tired of the pleading, the brunette gripped the woman’s head between her hands and, with an excited grin, gave it a quick twist, killing her in an instant.