Planet Purgatory

by Martin, Benedict

  “What do you know about SYS?”

  The imp’s eyes glowed. “Oh, I know all about SYS.”

  “Do you know where I can find them?”

  “Maybe.”

  Flea enjoyed playing the role of the coy imp; that much was clear. Meanwhile, my insides were exploding with butterflies.

  “I have to find the SYS building. Our settlement is under attack. At first it was the aliens, but now an old man named Bill has parked on the outskirts of town, and he’s demanded we give him two of our own in return for protection. But the thing is, he’s going to keep asking for more and more. I just know it.”

  At the mention of Bill’s name, Flea’s demeanor changed from mischievous to grave. “Does this Bill have a wagon?”

  “He does. And he’s got some kind of devil inside.”

  “Yes, I know all about Bill and his ‘friend.’ It’s good you left that place. Any place Bill makes his home is a place you don’t want to be.”

  “No. You don’t understand. I’m going to make him leave. That’s why I have to find the SYS building.”

  Flea burst out laughing, rolling around the floor in impish delight. “You?” she asked, struggling to catch her breath. “Make Bill leave?” Just saying the words sent her into another round of hysterics.

  “It’s not funny! My parents are there. I promised them I’d save them. And when I promise something, I do it.”

  Laughter subsiding, Flea popped off the floor to sit on her haunches. “Look at you, propped up against the wall like a doll in need of a bath. You can’t even walk. How are you going to make Bill leave?”

  “I don’t know yet. That’s why I need to find the SYS building. Please, just tell, do you know where I can find it?”

  “Maybe. And even if I did, why should I tell you? You wouldn’t play the riddle game with me.”

  I could feel the energy being sucked out of me, from my toes right up through my shoulders. “All right, all right. I’ll play your stupid riddle game.”

  The imp rubbed her hands together. “Oh, goody. Now picture yourself in a tree —”

  Suddenly the room shook as something large traveled across the ground above us. Thump, thump, thump. It was unsettling, and Flea and I spent the following moments staring wide-eyed at the ceiling as the exposed roots vibrated in concert with the footsteps. And just as suddenly as it appeared it was gone, the thumping replaced by the sound of my beating heart.

  “What was that?” I whispered.

  “I don’t know,” replied Flea. She looked genuinely frightened. Even so, she leapt up onto the ledge, peering through the little passage like she meant to climb inside. “What do you think? Should I go and see?”

  I shook my head. Vigorously.

  I thought she was going to leave, but then, quick as a blink, she was in front of me again, sitting on her haunches.

  “You have no idea what a dangerous world this is, David. A man on his own has no hope of survival. Even if I told you where the SYS building was, you wouldn’t make it.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  I must have replied with the right amount of certainty, because she leaned in, staring at me with those alien eyes. “How?”

  “I was given a vision. By an angel, no less. He told me to find the SYS building, and there I would be given the means to free our settlement from Bill and his demon.”

  Flea leaned in even closer. “An angel?”

  “Yes. An angel.”

  “What did he look like?”

  Now, there was a quandary. Did I tell her he was a three hundred foot whale? Sipping some chikka, I adjusted my seat, grimacing at the ache in my leg. “He’s made of light,” I grunted. “Golden light. And he told me to find the SYS building.”

  “And you listened to him?”

  “Of course I listened to him. He’s an angel.”

  I watched as Flea sifted through the information, the bits and pieces tumbling around inside her head.

  “But why choose you? You’re just one man? Why not send seven men? Or seventy?”

  “I don’t know. But he did, and I’m not backing out now. Not if it means getting my family out of this hellhole.”

  Flea rocked back on her heels, smiling. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I know what this place is. It’s Purgatory.”

  Flea stared at me, and for the briefest moment, I saw something in her expression that told me what I said was true. But then she smiled. “Wow. That chikka’s really done something to your brain. Purgatory? This place? That’s just crazy.”

  “But it’s not. For the longest time I suspected it, but now I know. Me, my mom, my dad: we’re in Purgatory because of what happened to my brother.”

  “And what happened to your brother?” asked Flea, rocking slowly forward.

  “He died when my mother threw him down the stairs.”

  “Why’d she do that?”

  “Because I tattled on him drinking beer.”

  “And for that they sent you to Purgatory?” The imp slapped her knee and fell to her side, laughing hysterically.

  “Go ahead. Laugh. Truth is, I should have kept my mouth shut. He was only fourteen.”

  The laughing stopped. “Really?”

  “My mother told everyone he slipped. Can you believe that?”

  “She was probably scared.”

  “Still, you don’t lie about something like that. Not when your other son was watching.”

  “So you saw her do it?”

  I nodded, memories from that afternoon swirling in my brain. “I should have told the police. Then maybe Mummy could have gotten the help she needed. Instead I kept it locked inside. We all did. It ruined us. It ruined me. Overnight I became … detached. I stopped caring. Oh, I could fake it, but ultimately I became trapped in my own little bubble. And it only got worse as I got older. Looking back at my life, I can honestly say I wasn’t a very good person.”

  “And so now you’re in Purgatory …”

  “That’s right. It was my self-absorption and lack of caring that got me here, and it will be my selflessness in the face of overwhelming odds that will bring me out.”

  Flea shook her head, rocking on her feet while she gazed absently around the room.

  She was strangely pretty. It bothered me to even think that, but it was true, and I traced her profile with my eyes, wondering what kind of creature she was.

  “Are you a demon?” I asked.

  “Pardon?”

  “Are you a demon? Answer, yes or no.”

  “What a funny creature you are, telling me this is Purgatory and then asking me if I’m a demon. Why, it’s almost as though you’re asking me to eat you.” And she jumped on me only to find my gun pointed in her face.

  “There’s something definitely odd about you,” she said, slinking away. “Maybe you can reach the SYS building …”

  I nearly choked on my own saliva. “So you’ll tell me where it is?”

  “Maybe. But first I want to know the truth: why would a man seek out SYS on his own?”

  “I already explained that. An angel gave me instructions. And besides, I wasn’t alone when I left.”

  This was the nugget the imp was so doggedly searching for, and she scrambled up to me, peering into my face. “Who was it? And where did they go?”

  “It was my dog, Rosie.”

  I could feel the disappointment oozing out of her very being. “A dog? Really? And here I thought it would be something worth mentioning.”

  “Don’t you talk about her like that! She was my protector. My friend. And I let her die!”

  I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, angry with myself not only for having lost control, but for giving Flea ammunition to needle me further.

  Instead she watched. “What happened?”

  “A witch put a spell on me. Turned me into a little boy, right in her living room. I didn’t even notice Rosie was gone. By the time I figured out what was going on, it was too late. I found Rosi
e in the basement with her throat slit, hanging from a meat hook like a side of beef.” The memory of the ogre in his denim overalls flashed in my mind. “Stupid Eggman.”

  Flea’s eyebrow raised. “What’s an Egg-Man?”

  “He’s the monster that killed her; a bald ogre with the whitest skin I’ve ever seen. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was a demon. He’d have to be, to kill Rosie like that. She was a beast, more a lion than dog. She should have at least put up a struggle.”

  I kept replaying those final few steps into the basement, the image of my friend, dead, hanging from the ceiling.

  “You hate him, don’t you?” she asked, crawling up beside me.

  “I do.”

  “So why don’t you kill him?”

  “He’s too powerful.”

  “But you have your gun.”

  I pictured the albino goliath and shuddered. “You don’t understand. The Eggman’s a giant. A demon. There’s no way I could kill him.”

  “David, David, David,” lamented Flea, returning to her more familiar spot in front of me. “How can you expect to defeat Bill if you can’t take care of one little Egg-Man?”

  “That’s why I need to find the SYS building!”

  The imp stuck out her bottom lip in mock sympathy. “Aw, David. I didn’t mean to upset you. Here, let me see if I can cheer you up.”

  She made a fist, palm pointed to the ceiling.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just watch.”

  The imp opened her fingers to reveal a small stone that slowly rose in the air to float in front of my face.

  I was awestruck. “How are you doing that?”

  “Grab it,” she said.

  So I did. And what a strange little stone it was. It looked like fossilized origami, the edges folded in on itself to form a flattened stony box. “What does it do?”

  “Let go of it.”

  I watched in fascination as it hovered in front of my face once more.

  “Keep watching,” she said.

  Without warning, the stone exploded. And not just a little pop, but an explosion that left me temporarily blinded with whistling in my ears. I was livid. The imp, meanwhile, was rolling around the floor, laughing.

  “That wasn’t funny!”

  I could barely hear my voice over the ringing in my ears. Flea, meanwhile, was laughing so hard she looked like she was going to be sick.

  “Your face!” she howled. “Oh, your adorable face!”

  I didn’t know if I should laugh along with her or shoot her with my gun. Instead, I drank some chikka, looking on in bemusement as the imp rolled around the floor. And that’s when it hit me: exhaustion like I’d never felt before. It was as though a heavy blanket of tiredness was draped over me, and it was all I could do to keep my eyes open.

  “You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?” asked Flea, lifting herself off the ground with a devilish grin.

  “No, no. I’m just resting my eyes, that’s all.” I took a swig of chikka, pressing the back of my head against the earthen wall.

  “Because if you fall asleep, I might eat you.”

  “No, you won’t. I’m too quick, remember?”

  I closed my eyes, picturing the sunlight on the leaves of my sugar beets. I was almost gone. I could have fought it, but the need for sleep was too much. And in a final burst of consciousness I said, “If you do eat me, can you do it quick? I’m already in a lot of pain.”

  Chapter 8

  I didn’t know how, or why, but when I woke up again, I found myself back in the forest, propped up against a tree. The imp and her underground room were gone. Confused, I spent the following moments trying to figure out if I was still dreaming. Usually I’m good at that, but if this was a dream, it was awfully convincing.

  With a groan, I rose to my feet. My leg was sore, but nothing like before. If anything, it was stiff, and as I limped in a circle, trying to make sense of my situation, I spied my gun and a black leather sack lying against the very same tree where I was sleeping. Curious, I opened the sack to discover two bottles of chikka.

  Well, that was awfully kind, I thought, returning the sack to the ground.

  I was well and truly confused. Was I dreaming? Or was my encounter with the imp the dream?

  I searched the area, looking in vain for the hole in the tree where I’d taken refuge from the Dhatura.

  That’s what she called them, wasn’t it? Dhatura?

  Confusion gave way to fear. I was in the forest, and I had no idea where to go.

  “Flea? Are you out there? Flea?”

  Heart thumping, I was wrestling with what direction I should begin traveling when a demon landed on a tree branch above me.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” I said. “You don’t know what a relief it is to see a friendly face.”

  The demon peered down at me, its oval eyes glowing in the shade of the leafy canopy.

  “I’m lost. Do you know which way I should go?”

  I knew it wouldn’t answer, but when it took off from its perch to disappear through the trees, it was as though it took all of my hope with it.

  “No! Come back! Don’t leave me on my own!”

  I grabbed my sack of chikka and hobbled after it only to discover it had moved to a nearby tree, the shape of an arrow carved conspicuously into its bark.

  The cut was deep. And fresh.

  “Am I supposed to follow this?” I asked the demon.

  With no other options, I set off in the direction the arrow was pointing.

  Other than the demon following me, the forest appeared empty. I’d hear things, cracks and creaks and rustling, but every time I turned to aim my gun, there was nothing there.

  I eventually came across another arrow, carved into the tree bark in the same heavy-handed manner as the first. I was still confused, but at least I could pretend I was traveling toward something, anything. It was like I was playing a game, but the rules were a mystery.

  My leg was holding up surprisingly well. In fact, it was getting better. No longer forced to hobble, I was able to carry on with only the slightest limp. I suspected it was the chikka. I could only thank the imp for her generosity, if indeed she existed at all.

  I found a half-dozen of those mysterious arrows, but the forest never changed, save for the dimming light, and I was preparing myself for a night in that horrible place when the distinct smell of woodsmoke invaded the air.

  It came in wafts, but as I walked it grew stronger, until I saw a great plume of smoke rising through the trees. Gun in one hand and sack of chikka in the other, I hurried toward it, staying as low to the ground as possible. I soon found myself at the lip of a basin, looking down at a massive bonfire surrounded by a crowd of green-men. They were dancing. Or at least, I think they were dancing. It was more a sequence of grotesque movements set to a beat only they could hear. The sight of them set my heart pounding. I never got over what they did to my Rosie, and I was sorely tempted to rush down the hillside and kill as many of the bastards as I could before they ultimately overwhelmed me. But that would be selfish.

  I needed a detour. Fortunately the green-men were too caught up in their ghoulish dancing to notice me, and I carefully made my way around the basin when I spied a wagon on the other side of the bonfire. It was attached to a horse, and sitting in the front was a man. The flames were too blinding to make out any detail, but it was definitely a man.

  A prisoner.

  It wasn’t so long ago I would have been content to leave him to his fate and get the hell out of there. It was a shame, yes, but those things happened. That’s why they tell you, “Stay out of the forest.” But now, the answer wasn’t so clear.

  I counted at least twenty goblins. That meant twenty shots, and that was providing I didn’t miss. That didn’t seem possible, yet leaving would mean abandoning the principles that would ultimately free me from this accursed place. It was too much, and I looked up into the darkening sky, stomach filled with butterflies.

&nb
sp; “Is this a test?” I asked.

  I don’t know if God answered, but I made up my mind. Pacing in a circle, I visualized myself storming the bonfire. There would be no room for hesitation; it would be one pull of the trigger after another. All that was left was deciding on the line of attack.

  I was so focused on the task before me that I failed to notice a green-man strolling toward me. We nearly collided, and for a moment we stared at each other, its golden eyes wide with surprise. My first reaction was to shoot it, but that would have brought unnecessary attention. So I decided to hit it instead, and I was just about to whack it in the head with the butt of my gun when everything went black.

  * * *

  “Dave! Dave! Wake up!”

  It was the strangest thing. I was sure I was sleeping. In bed. At home. So who was this man calling my name? And why couldn’t I move?

  “Dave! Buddy! You got to wake up!”

  I opened my eyes and saw a familiar face grinning at me. The Scavenger.

  Nothing made sense, and I struggled to move my arms only to discover my hands were bound behind me.

  “You gotta relax. Fighting’s only gonna make it worse.”

  I closed my eyes, waiting for the fogginess to subside. I knew where I was now: the bonfire. What I couldn’t figure out was what the Scavenger was doing there? He looked completely at ease, even with the green-men gathered behind him.

  “Yo, Dave. Are you all right? You took a nasty bump to the head.”

  I went to feel my scalp, but my hands were bound too tightly.

  “I told you. Stop struggling. It’ll only make things worse.” The Scavenger brought his weathered face level with mine. “You’re a long way from Harkness. What are you doing out here anyway? This is scavenger country.”

  “Saving you.”

  The Scavenger laughed. “From what?”

  “From them,” I said, nodding at the goblin standing next to him.

  This made the Scavenger laugh even more, and he stood to place his arm around the monster’s shoulder. “I ain’t in no danger here. Me and the green-men have what could be called a business arrangement. They don’t bother me, and I keep selling them stuff. Ain’t that right, Chief?” he said, pulling the green-man close.