Planet Purgatory

by Martin, Benedict

  I was still having problems focusing, but that last statement was a slap in the face. “You … you trade with these monsters?”

  “Now, I’d be careful what you say. They might look dumber than a bucket of golf balls, but they understand more than they let on. And in answer to your query, me and the green-men have been working together some time now. In fact we’re working on some business right now.”

  The Scavenger bent on one knee to peer into my face once more.

  “I’m trading for you, buddy.”

  I was overjoyed. “Really?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “So how close are you to, you know, getting me?”

  “Oh, we’ve already sealed the deal,” said the Scavenger, flashing me his crooked smile.

  “Thank God! I was starting to get worried. Could you cut me free now? I want to get out of here.”

  But the Scavenger shook his head. “You misunderstand. I ain’t trading for you alive. That boat sailed when you killed my girls. No, I’m trading for you roasted.”

  His smile grew wider as the realization of what he meant trickled into my brain.

  “I’ve been thinking about that theory of yours,” he said, returning to his feet. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Now that’s not to say I agree, but let’s just say you’re correct, and this is indeed Purgatory; I know why I’m here. It’s my inability to forgive. I’ve always carried grudges. Always.” He watched me, smile turning into a frown. “Ain’t this where you tell me I can still turn it around?”

  I said nothing, meeting his gaze with a surly expression of my own.

  “I disliked you the moment I met you, Eno. You’re so miserable. Maybe this will cheer up,” he said, swaggering to the back of his wagon. “Guess what I’m trading you for?”

  The Scavenger held up a bottle of my chikka.

  “Where did you get that?” I demanded.

  “Ah, so I finally got a reaction out of you. If I don’t know better, I’d say you value chikka over your own life.”

  The Scavenger pulled the cork from the bottle with his teeth and spat it on the ground. “Guess how many I got in here? One hundred. Well, ninety-nine, now. And guess how many I traded you for?” He looked at me, grin growing even wider. “Three. Three bottles of chikka for one roasted David Eno. They wanted four, but when I pointed out how skinny you are, they settled on three.”

  “How’d you find those? That’s my stash! Where’d you find those?”

  “I’m a scavenger. It’s my job to find things.”

  The Scavenger laughed, and took a swig of his ill-gotten treasure, spitting most of it out in the process. “I still don’t know how you do it,” he said with a cough. “But I’m getting better. My hope is that by eating you, my tolerance for this stuff will go up, too.

  “You piece of shit! When I get out of here, I swear —”

  “That’s what I want to see! Come on, struggle! Break free from those bonds!”

  The Scavenger seemed to revel in his position of tormentor, and he paced up and down his wagon, sipping then coughing out mouthfuls of precious chikka.

  It was then that I heard someone whisper my name. It was the imp, and she’d crawled beside me, staring at me with her alien eyes.

  “Looks like you’re in another pickle,” she smiled.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shhh! You don’t want the bad man to know I’m here, do you? Now, hold still, I’m going to cut you free.”

  I don’t know what she did, but whatever bound my hands was gone.

  “And you’ll need this,” she whispered, sliding my gun beside me.

  I couldn’t believe my luck, and I glanced down in time to see the imp staring up at me. “You owe me,” she hissed. And then she was gone, leaving me to watch as the Scavenger stopped to admire the bonfire.

  “I was wondering, what happened to that bitch of yours? Rosie was it? Ah, I can see from your face, it wasn’t good. Is she dead? That’s it, isn’t it? That’s a shame, because I bet she’d be tasty, too.”

  I’d never wanted to hurt someone so badly in my life, but there were too many green-men, so I hid my gun under my leg, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

  “Well, time to see if a revenant tastes any different than regular folk —”

  No sooner had the Scavenger spoken than an explosion filled the air, sending clumps of dirt and green-men flying in all directions.

  Flea!

  Quick as gunfire, I jumped to my feet, and with the green-men distracted, I started shooting. I didn’t even stop to think; I just ran round that bonfire, shooting every green bastard I saw until there were none left. It was thrilling, and I was standing there, feeling the pounding in my chest, when a cackle echoed through the trees. The Scavenger had escaped on his horse, and the sound of his maniacal laughter was enough to set my hair on end.

  I was soon joined by Flea, who stared at the body-filled basin with something approaching awe. “My goodness, David. You certainly know your way with a gun.”

  “Yeah, well. I couldn’t have done it without your help. Thank you.”

  The imp smiled. “I couldn’t let anything happen to my David, now could I? Not after I went to the trouble of making all those arrows.”

  Her admission sent me back a step. “So that was you!”

  “Of course it was me. Who else could come up with something so clever?”

  I shook my head in bewilderment. “Where was I even going?”

  “Why, to the SYS building, of course.”

  I was speechless. “Why didn’t you just tell me where it was?” I eventually asked.

  “What would be the fun in that? Besides, I wanted to see you perform on your own.”

  “Perform? Oh my God! This is like a game for you!”

  The imp batted her strangely attractive eyes. “Isn’t it?”

  I wanted to scream. She was so frustrating, yet I couldn’t get angry. Not after all she’d done. “At least that demon showed me where to look. I don’t think I would have found it if it wasn’t for him.”

  Now it was Flea’s turn to look confused. “What demon?”

  “You know, the flying ones. They look like little pterodactyls?”

  It wasn’t registering.

  “The little fellas with the changing eyes. Leathery wings?”

  I was digging through my mind, trying to think of another way to describe it when I saw one sitting in a tree on the edge of the bowl. “There!” I said. “That’s one right there! In fact, he’s probably the one that showed me the arrow in the first place.”

  To my surprise, Flea picked up a rock and threw at it, cursing in an alien language while the demon disappeared into the trees.

  “What’d you do that for?”

  “I hate those things!”

  Shaking my head, I stepped over the lifeless body of a green-man to survey the carnage around me. I knew I was a good shot, but I never dreamed I was capable of destruction on this scale. This was a massacre. Dead green-men lay everywhere. For a moment, just a moment, I felt a kernel of remorse for what I’d done, but I stepped on it, extinguishing it like an old cigarette. Green-men were monsters. They’d killed Rosie and were moments away from throwing me into the still blazing bonfire. They deserved what they got. I was just glad for my gun. SYS definitely knew what it was doing when it made that thing; hopefully they would be generous when I explained to them the danger our settlement was facing.

  I lit a cigarette and went to examine the Scavenger’s wagon. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d found my stash. The sight of those bottles, packed neatly in crates, was enough to make my blood boil, and cigarette dangling from my mouth, I set about removing them from the wagon, crate by precious crate.

  “What are you doing?” asked the imp.

  “Bastard stole my chikka.”

  “So you’re just going to drink it all right now?”

  I paused to wipe the sweat from my brow with my sleeve. “I’m going to bury it.”


  “With what? Your fingers?”

  “This,” I said, tossing a shovel onto the ground. I’d found it strapped to the side of the wagon. And just in case that wasn’t enough, there was a rusty pickax as well.

  I felt like a pirate with a chest full of treasure, and rolling up my sleeves, I started digging a hole while Flea looked on in impish bemusement.

  “You’re really digging a hole?”

  “Do you know how many bottles I have here? I’m not leaving this out in the open!”

  “How are you going to find it again once you’ve buried it?”

  “I’ll make a map.”

  “How? You have no paper. You have no pen. You don’t even know where you are.”

  The imp was right. I was being ridiculous. Tired, I jammed the shovel into the ground and hopped onto the back of the wagon, where I opened myself a bottle of chikka.

  “I don’t understand. You said chikka was poisonous to humans. Why was the Scavenger able to drink it?”

  The imp leaped into the wagon beside me. “The answer is simple. He’s no longer human.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, he’s no longer human. It happens. I don’t know why. But it does, and almost always, it’s for the worst.”

  I sipped my chikka, wondering how that could be.

  “I see your leg is healed,” said the imp with a mischievous grin.

  Without thinking, I bent and straightened my leg, and was surprised to discover it didn’t hurt. “Is this your doing?”

  “No,” giggled Flea.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She peered into my eyes, curious, searching. “So you’re a revenant, are you?”

  I groaned and closed my eyes, focusing on the warm chikka haze enveloping me.

  “I thought they only did that with animals —”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

  But the imp didn’t care, aggressively sniffing my neck while I fought to keep her away.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I said, jumping to the ground.

  “I knew there was something different about you!”

  “I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I stood watching the bonfire, doing my best to ignore the imp’s stare, when something moved behind a woodpile not far from the wagon. The imp heard it too, and together we listened as a twig snapped.

  From the glint in Flea’s eyes, I knew she was ready to pounce. I, however, was more cautious, and signaled for her to remain in the wagon while I went, gun drawn, to see what it was. She ignored me, of course, leaping from the wagon to peer around the woodpile with childlike delight.

  “Come,” she mouthed.

  Heart racing, I joined her, peeping my head around the corner to see a hauntingly familiar face staring back at me. It was Laurie. She was barely recognizable. A skeleton, really, her formerly lustrous hair reduced to a few wispy strands clinging to a scabby scalp.

  “Laurie,” I said, taking a cautious step forward.

  “You know her?”

  “She’s from Harkness, the settlement I’m from. Laurie, can you hear me?”

  The poor woman was lost in a terrifying world only she could see, and overcoming my revulsion, I took her by the hand and led her to the wagon.

  The imp was enthralled.

  “She was touched by an energy orb,” I explained.

  “Oh, I know what happened to her.”

  “So you know about the aliens?”

  “Is that what you call them? Aliens?”

  I felt my stomach jump. “Why? What do you call them?”

  “Does it matter? ‘Aliens’ is a good enough name, I think. What I want to know is, what is she doing here?”

  “The Scavenger stole her from the warehouse the night she was zapped.”

  “And why did he do that?”

  “I killed his zombies.”

  I could see from her expression an explanation was in order. “There seems to be a lasting connection between those who get zapped and those giant aliens. They get restless just before they appear, and someone knowing what to look for can buy themselves extra time. It’s a disgusting practice, and from what I’ve seen, it doesn’t even work very well.”

  “So why did you kill them?”

  “Look at her,” I said, motioning to Laurie. “She’s a zombie. She doesn’t know where she is. Her mind’s gone. And her body’s falling apart. And those women were the same. I was doing them a favor shooting them.”

  “So is that what you’re doing now? You’re shooting her, too?”

  The imp seemed positively giddy by the prospect. I, on the other hand, felt sick. It was overwhelming seeing how badly Laurie had deteriorated. Her eyes, her once beautiful eyes, were holes that not even the light from the bonfire could brighten. Shooting her would be the compassionate thing to do. But unlike those other times, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  “What’s the matter?” asked the imp. “Cold feet?”

  “I just need some time, is all,” I said, walking to the bonfire.

  “Wow. I never took you for the indecisive type.”

  “Shut up!”

  “I can do it, if you’d like.”

  “Touch her and I’ll shoot you!”

  “I’m just trying to help,” replied Flea, in a mock little girl’s voice.

  I knew what had to be done. Gulping some chikka, I stood before Laurie and pointed my gun at her forehead. I was about to pull the trigger when she spoke.

  “I want to go home,” Laurie said.

  I’d never experienced goose bumps like that before in my life, and I looked up at the sky. “Please be with her,” I whispered. And with the woman’s words still echoing in my head, I sent Laurie home.

  I took a moment to collect myself, and then, carefully, I picked up Laurie’s withered corpse and brought it to the bonfire. She weighed almost nothing, and with a final farewell, I placed her in the flames, returning to the wagon where I finished my bottle of chikka.

  I was both physically and emotionally exhausted, and I lay down on the wagon bed, wishing the world would disappear. Flea joined me, and in a move that left me feeling uncomfortable, placed my head on her lap. She didn’t say anything; she just started stroking my hair while my mind drifted to the sounds of the fire roaring in the background.

  Truth be told, I was glad the imp was there. I didn’t trust her, and I sure as hell didn’t understand her, but for that night at least, I knew I could sleep.

  Chapter 9

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a movie in a theater. I feel silly admitting this, but I’m actually kind of nervous.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said, giving Laurie’s hand a squeeze. “Here, why don’t you stay here while I get us some popcorn?”

  I stepped into the lineup and took out my wallet. It certainly felt right: my debit card was in the right slot, and there was a small wad of cash in the billfold. Just to be sure, I sniffed it. It smelled like leather. It felt like leather. Could this be a dream?

  I turned and gave Laurie a smile. She looked so happy standing there in her flower-patterned sundress. I’d just turned around again when a tall, skinny fellow knocked me on the elbow, sending my wallet onto the floor.

  “Sorry, man. Didn’t you see you there.”

  “No worries,” I said, reaching to pick it up.

  I paused to look around the crowded lobby, studying people’s faces. No two were the same.

  This has to be real, I thought, pushing my wallet into my back pocket.

  The line was moving slowly. I checked my phone: 9:53 p.m. The trailers would already be playing, but that was okay. I was on Earth. About to watch a movie. With Laurie.

  “Hey, buddy, you’re next.”

  I walked to the counter and scanned the menu board while a chipper teenaged girl in braces waited patiently on the other side of the till.

  “Two medium popcorns and two Cokes
, please.”

  “That’ll be seventy-five dollars.”

  I did a double-take. “Seventy-five dollars? Are you kidding?”

  The girl merely smiled. No doubt she was used to these kinds of reactions, and after a disappointed shake of my head, I handed her the money and brought the snacks to Laurie.

  “Do you know how much this cost me?” I asked. “Seventy-five —”

  And that’s when the world exploded. Literally. There was a deafening bang, and I found myself in the wagon bed, staring out into that miserable depression in the forest. My ears were ringing, and I grabbed my gun, turning in circles while impish laughter filled the air.

  It took me a moment to figure out what was going on, and when I did, I collapsed onto my back and covered my face with my hands.

  “You little shit! I was having a nice dream!”

  “Aw, I’m sorry,” said Flea in that cutesy voice of hers, “but it’s time to leave.”

  “Why couldn’t you wake me up normally?”

  “I tried. But you just kept snoring away. You’re a noisy sleeper, do you know that?”

  It wasn’t fair. Why did that dream have to be so real? I wanted to cry, and I sat up, reliving those final moments of seeing Laurie in that beautiful sundress.

  “So what were you dreaming about?” asked Flea, crouching beside me.

  “None of your business.”

  “It was about me, wasn’t it?”

  “What if it was?”

  This seemed to catch her off guard, and she glanced away, only to peer into my eyes once more. “Was it about me?”

  Shaking my head, I lit a cigarette and proceeded to take in the view. It certainly looked different in daylight. The bonfire, that towering beacon of orange and gold, was gone, replaced by a smoldering hill of char and ash. Green-men littered the earth, their corpses having taken on a decidedly grayer hue than the night before.

  “Enjoying your handiwork?”

  “I was sure I was a goner,” I said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Even after you slipped me my gun, I was sure I was dead. If it wasn’t for your distraction …”

  I replayed the explosion in my head, the hail of bodies and soil.

  “How do you do that?” I asked.

  “With great satisfaction and joy.”