I wake screaming. I have been restrained in my sleep, and I can feel the tight bandages around my arms and ribs, no doubt from the scratches and bite marks of the damned creatures in the dark. The radio is playing and sunlight is streaming in through the window. I can hear the birds singing over the sports game, and smell the blooms of the magnolias outside my room. The nurse is here, calming me. I think she is sweet on me, I will ask her for a journal today so I can begin to write all this down. Someone needs to know the truth, they are coming for us. I have seen them!
My mother is back. She brought corn muffins. She smells like our kitchen and a smear of bacon fat and corn meal is still on her cheek. She has been crying; her eyes are red and puffy, and a handkerchief is tucked into her sleeve. She says that they have a special treat for me if I eat all my dinner. The nurse will bring me a malted and wheel me to the common room so I can watch Syd Bark’s Federation Swingtime. I blink in surprise, and I can see one of the larger ones behind the door. It is grey and leaning towards the nurse and my mother. It is dripping on the floor like it has just come out of a lake, and I can smell the rot. I blink again and it is gone. My mother and the nurse are staring at me. My eyes must have been wide and my face showing my terror. I compose myself and smile and nod. I tell them, ‘That would be swell’. I guess they buy it because my mother swallows in relief, pats my hand, and turns to leave, walking through the door which the creature had stood behind moments ago. The nurse smiles at me, and I ask her for the journal. She says she will see what she can do.
I have the journal now and am watching the dance show, surrounded by dozens of other soldiers. Some are playing cards or checkers, others are napping, and a few are crying quietly. I wonder if they can also see what I see. I didn’t see any more creatures until I looked at the small stage. I don’t know why the others can’t see them too, but every crooner, singer, and dancing teen is a shambling mockery of a human being. Syd Bark is something else altogether though. Whenever he appears I clench my eyes closed, and it helped in the beginning. But now when he speaks, I can see something else behind my eyelids. Something huge and sleeping. It twitches when he talks, and I think they want to wake it up. I want to scream, but I can’t. If I scream they will give me more medicine to make me sleep. Every time I sleep the things get larger when I wake, and bolder. But I can’t stop myself. I am going to scream…
Aetheric Elements: The Rise of a Steampunk Reality Page 57
