The New World

by Toby Neighbors

  Instead, he turned down the hallway, toward his parents’ bedroom. The door wasn’t closed, but it wasn’t all the way open either. He could see dust drifting in the beam of light that shown out between the curtains. As he swung the door open, he feared what he would find, but was comforted by the sight of his mother and father, side by side, on the bed. His mother was lying under the covers, her face peaceful, eyes closed as if asleep. She was wearing a housecoat, a warm garment that seemed out of place in the heat of the summer afternoon. One hand was by her side, the other was outside the covers, angled toward her husband and clasped in his.

  Daniel’s father was dressed in casual pants and a t-shirt that said World’s Greatest Dad. Daniel had given his father the shirt, and tears welled in his eyes as he looked at his dad in it. He, too, looked peaceful and asleep, only he was lying on top of the bedclothes. His right hand extended toward his wife’s, his other hand was folded across his chest and in it was a piece of paper. Daniel stepped forward, the tears running freely with the sweat that was rolling from his hair and down his stubbly cheeks. He looked at the paper and found that it had his name on it. He gently lifted his father’s hand and was surprised at the solidarity of the limb. Unconsciously, he had expected the arm to be a fragile shell, as if the lack of decay had only been on the outside, but inwardly his parents must surely be turning to dust.

  He turned the paper over and read the message that was scrawled on the reverse side. Sobs racked his frame and he had to let go of the page with one hand to keep from tearing it as he shook. His mother had passed first, his father suffering, but taking care of her every need. Now, in his last hours, Daniel’s father had recorded their love for him and their hope that he would survive. He bent and kissed his father’s forehead and gently stroked his mother’s face. He was amazed that the skin was still soft, there was no life in it, but it had none of the waxy, lifeless qualities which usually marked the dead.

  Daniel quietly stood, he turned to the windows and pulled the shades completely closed. He took a clean, white bed sheet from his mother’s closet and laid it gently over his parents. He wept openly, and told them both goodbye. Then he closed their bedroom door and returned to the kitchen. Far back in the cabinet, his parents had kept a small bottle of bourbon to help them sleep when they were suffering from colds. His mother had never given him any, but he had seen her prepare a small glass for his father, all the while claiming it was for medicinal purposes only, and then describing all the horrible punishments she would unleash on him if she ever caught him drinking. Well, he thought, seeing both of your parents lying dead together was punishment enough. He pulled out the bottle. It was small and dusty, but nearly full. Daniel unscrewed the cap and drank a mouthful. The foul taste seemed welcome, as if the bad taste was appropriate for the occasion, a sweet drink would have been out of place. It burned all the way down to his empty gut and seemed to wage war with his digestive system.

  Daniel carried the bottle back out to the front of the house where his pilot was waiting patiently at the curb. The anguished look on Daniel’s face, as well as the bottle of bourbon, told the pilot everything he needed to know. For Daniel, he would have liked to have found that his parents were alive, but he knew that they wouldn’t have stayed in their home if they had survived and his chances of finding them would have been very slim. At least now he knew and he could find closure. He took another drink from the bottle and grimaced before speaking.

  “We better find a place to stay the night,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Any suggestions?” the pilot said as he shook his head.

  Daniel had pushed the bottle toward him, offering him a drink, but the pilot refused. “I guess it wouldn’t be wise for my pilot to be drinking on the job.”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, at least I know you’ve got integrity,” Daniel said as he wiped his eyes. “I don’t care where we stay, I just want to get out of here. Let’s fly north, Joplin, Missouri isn’t far away.”

  As they flew, Daniel drank and cried. He didn’t care what the pilot thought of him. He felt so alone, everyone seemed to be slipping away. He was sick by the time they landed in Joplin and the pilot helped him find a place to lie down. He fell asleep, although it was only early evening. When he awoke in the middle of the night, he realized he was outside of an airplane hangar. He sat up, and when his head stopped spinning he found he could see in the near darkness. The only light was a full moon and a sky full of stars, but it was enough to make out the helicopter and the large, metal buildings lining one side of a long, straight runway. The pilot was curled on a pallet nearby. There was the smell of burned Spam from a blackened skillet sitting on a camping stove. The smell made Daniel’s stomach churn again. He could taste the residue of the liquor and vomit. He hated the way drinking made him feel, but he was tempted just the same to continue his binge. The bottle was lying near his pallet; the pilot must have respectfully accepted Daniel’s need to drink away the pain. He picked up the bottle that was now half empty and peered at the moon through the amber colored liquid.

  He was just about to open it and take a long drink when a sound that froze Daniel in his tracks pierced the night. The sound echoed off the metal buildings and gave Daniel chills. He looked frantically both ways. There was no sign of whatever had made the horrid noise. It had reminded Daniel of a wolf, but it was different, not a howl, but more of a scream. It reminded Daniel vaguely of the sound of a rare, African monkey he had seen once in the St. Louis Zoo. But, chilling though the monkey’s scream had been, it had only a fraction of the intensity of this new sound. He looked at the pilot, who had turned over uneasily when the sound had occurred but was now resting soundly again. Daniel wanted to wake the man, he was shivering and could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing out, but he didn’t want to seem like a coward. And he had been drinking, perhaps he was still inebriated and his drunken condition had only made a normal sound seem frightening. He set the whiskey bottle back on the ground, the glass bottle grinding slightly on the asphalt. That sound was strangely comforting. He lay back on the pallet and tried to think of something besides the strange sound.

  His eyes were getting heavy when the scream sounded again. Daniel sat up straight, as did the pilot, all thoughts of his hangover totally forgotten.

  “Did you hear that?” the pilot asked.

  “Yes, it was the second one tonight.”

  “You mean there was another one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Perhaps we should get back in the helicopter,” the pilot suggested.

  “There’s plenty of room in the back,” Daniel agreed.

  They stood on shaky legs, looking at their makeshift camp and wondering what they should pack back up. When the howling scream sounded again, they simply ran toward the aircraft, all gear abandoned, any attempt to seem unaffected by the sound totally rejected. Daniel’s legs were shaking badly, probably from the liquor, but also from fear. His bladder suddenly felt as if it would burst if he didn’t release it, but he focused all his energy on holding it in. His main goal was getting safely into the aircraft.

  The pilot wrenched the door open and Daniel scurried in, followed closely by the pilot, who then slammed the door shut.

  “Did you get us refueled?” Daniel asked.

  “No, sir, I thought we’d have time in the morning. I thought I would need your help.”

  The man’s voice was shaking, and even in Daniel’s despair at the thought of not being able to simply fly away, he felt sorry for the pilot. This man had risked his life to fly Daniel across the country; he had been confident in his skills, and even sympathetic to Daniel’s grief. He wasn’t about to fault the man for one honest mistake now.

  “That’s okay, we’re safe and we still have some fuel, right?”

  “Yes, sir,” said the pilot, “nearly half a tank.”

  “Alright, that’s good.”

  When they heard the howl again, it was closer, louder even though they w
ere inside the tightly sealed helicopter. They were looking out the windows, trying to stay calm, when they saw golden reflections shining in the gloom near one of the hangars.

  “What is that?” the pilot said, his voice rising in fear.

  “I think those are eyes,” Daniel said.

  Chapter 28

  The golden orbs were eyes, and there were a lot of them. They were large, the size and shape of ripe lemons. They seemed to bob up and down, almost as if moving to some unseen music. They moved out of the inky darkness toward the camp Daniel and his pilot had just fled from.

  “Lights,” Daniel whispered, as if he feared the strange beasts could hear him from inside the cabin of the helicopter.

  “What?” said the pilot, his own voice squeaking in terror.

  “The helicopter has lights, right?” Daniel said, trying to quell his own fear. “Turn them on, I want to see what’s out there.”

  “Are you sure?” asked the pilot.

  “Yes, now do it.”

  The pilot scrambled through the small opening between the cabin and the cockpit. He flipped a toggle switch and bright lights that were mounted on all four corners of the aircraft came on. What Daniel saw was so amazing he didn’t even realize he had lost control of his bladder.

  There were four beasts stalking around their camp. They had long, agile necks. Their heads were long, almost horse-like, and covered with strange looking, shaggy hair. Their bodies were large, the size of a sofa, and held up by two powerful legs that looked almost like kangaroos’ legs, with large feet. Daniel could see dark claws poking from the furry, bulbous toes. The long neck and head were counter balanced by a forked tail that stood out rigidly from the body, suspended out over the ground. The creatures’ forearms were long and folded double, so that they seemed almost to be attached backward. There were delicate looking fingers on the paws of the forearms, and they, too, had dark looking claws. The creatures, covered in a shaggy hair that reminded Daniel of woolly mammoths, seemed to be drawn to the smell of the pilot’s cooking.

  One unfolded a forearm from where it had been held snug against the creature’s body. Even though its nose was only inches from the pan where the Spam had been cooked, the beast scratched the cookware then held the claw to its nose.

  “Wh-wha-wha-wha-wha,” stuttered the pilot, his head was twitching as he struggled to get the words out. “Wha-wha-what ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-are-are-are th-th-th-tho-tho-tho-those th-th-thin-things?”

  Daniel was suddenly very worried about his companion. The pilot was as white as a sheet and sweat seemed to be pouring from him like a fountain. Daniel grabbed the man’s shoulders and shook him hard for a moment.

  “Look at me!” he demanded, whispering fiercely in the man’s face. “Look at me!”

  The man complied, but Daniel could feel him trembling.

  “Get a grip on yourself,” Daniel said. “We’re safe. They can’t get in here. We don’t even know if they’re dangerous.”

  The pilot looked at him and Daniel could see the light of reason flaring to life in the man’s eyes. Then one of the creatures sat back on his tail and howled. The pilot’s eyes rolled up, showing only the white of the eyeball, then he collapsed, half in the cockpit, half in the cabin.

  Daniel turned back toward the side window where he had been watching the creatures. They were pacing back and forth between the camp and the helicopter. Then one approached the window where Daniel was peering out. It walked up and sniffed the plane. Daniel could see that it had round nostrils that flexed and quivered. The beast opened its mouth and Daniel saw rows of teeth, not small like he expected, but one wide tooth after another, stretching across the large mouth, on both top and bottom. When the animal closed its mouth, the teeth fit together like a zipper. There were large jowls, like pouches, on either side of the mouth and the eyes were yellow and orange, the color of flames.

  The beast unfolded one forearm and scratched the window, its claw making an eerie, bone grating sound. Daniel moved slowly back toward the other side of the cabin. A scraping sound made him turn. Another of the creatures was examining this side of the helicopter. Daniel curled up on the bench seat opposite from where his pilot had fainted. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the huffing and grunting sounds the creatures made. He was sure they were searching for him. Trying to understand where he was, a living creature inside this large, metal box. He could smell the stringent odor of his own urine, the wet stain having grown cold and clammy against his skin. He dozed, but the occasional howling scream of the beasts outside always woke him.

  Just before dawn, the creatures left. Daniel was still lying down, but the sudden silence woke him up. He peered out the windows and, to his great relief, saw nothing but an empty airport. The sky was lightening, the stars fading away, and the creatures were gone. Daniel was so relieved that he laughed out loud, not noticing that the helicopter’s lights were no longer on. He had packed a bag with clothes, and while the pilot lay sleeping, Daniel stripped off his soiled pants and underwear. He used a dry area on the leg of his pants to wipe himself off. He needed to wash, but that wasn’t possible, so he pulled on clean clothes and stretched out on the bench and fell back asleep.

  When he opened his eyes again, sunlight was streaming in the windows and the pilot was groaning. Daniel sat up, his eyes felt rough and grainy, his mouth was rank with the smell of liquor and vomit. His head was pounding, but he wasn’t dizzy, although he did feel sick to his stomach, as if his bowels had turned to water and were about to breech the damn.

  “My legs are asleep,” the pilot moaned. “I can’t move ’em”

  Daniel took the man’s hand and pulled him into the cabin. The pilot managed to swing his legs around and began rubbing them.

  “As soon as you’re up to it,” Daniel said, “let’s get out of here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  There was no sign of the pilot’s stutter now, and Daniel didn’t say anything about it. The cabin still smelled like urine, but if the pilot noticed, he didn’t mention it, either. In fact, both men kept their thoughts about the previous night to themselves, as if they had agreed to just pretend it hadn’t happened.

  The pilot climbed back into the cockpit and began his preflight check list. Daniel joined him and they both pulled their headsets on. Daniel was rubbing his eyes when the pilot spoke.

  “Oh no,” he said, his voice once again panicky.

  Daniel opened his eyes and looked anxiously around, expecting to see one of the beasts from last night, but there was nothing in sight.

  “What is it?” he asked the aviator.

  “I think we’re in trouble.”

  “What?” Daniel asked again. “What are you talking about?”

  “We left the lights on all night.”

  “So, is that bad?”

  Then it hit him: the batteries. They had run down the batteries by leaving the lights on, and Daniel felt like crying and screaming at the same time. How could he have been so stupid? He had been too afraid, too occupied by the creatures to think clearly. Now he would have to pay for that carelessness.

  “Can we jump the batteries?” Daniel asked.

  “I don’t know,” the pilot answered. “What are we going to jump them with?”

  The pilot was right, Daniel thought. There wasn’t a good battery anywhere nearby with which they might even try to get the helicopter’s batteries going. Daniel rubbed his eyes as he thought of a solution. The only plan seemed to be to find a battery charger, hook it to a generator, and then wait for the drained power cells to charge. The solution itself wasn’t all that difficult. Getting the equipment they needed would be a challenge. Chances were they wouldn’t find everything they needed at this small airport. But the looming thought that overran all his strategic planning was the realization that they would have to go outside. And the creatures from last night were outside, perhaps even just around the corner, waiting for them to come out.

  “We’ve got to go outside,” Daniel said.

/>   “Th-th-th-th-tha-tha-that’s na-na-na-not a gu-gu-gu-gu-goo-goo-good i-i-i-id-id-idea,” the pilot stammered.

  “Okay, listen, let’s just calm down. We can’t do anything if we’re not thinking clearly.”

  The pilot nodded his head a little too quickly, but at least he was trying.

  “First of all, we can’t fix the batteries from inside the helicopter. We don’t know if those creatures are still here, or if they even come out in the daylight, but we need to be careful.”

  “Ya-ya-you-you-you sh-sh-sh-sh-should st-st-st-st-st-st…”

  “No,” Daniel said as calmly as possible. “I’ll go out first and you stay here. We’ve got a rifle and two pistols in the cabin. I’ll make sure it’s safe outside, then we’ll figure out what to do, alright?”

  The pilot didn’t hide his relief that Daniel wasn’t insisting that he be the one to venture out. He smiled and nodded, so Daniel pulled his head set off and climbed back into the cabin. He turned a lever above the bench seat where he had slept and pulled the seat rest down, revealing several compartments. One had the gas powered weapons and ammunition from the White House. Daniel pulled them all out and made sure the clips were full. He left one pistol on the seat and stuffed the other one into the waistband of his pants. He checked to make sure the safety catch on the rifle was off, then he popped open the door of the helicopter. He looked all around, swinging his rifle everywhere he looked, but there was nothing to see. He climbed out of the cabin and closed the door behind him. He walked toward the cockpit and gave his pilot the thumbs up. The pilot returned the signal.

  Daniel raised the maintenance door of the helicopter and looked at the bank of batteries. There were four, all wired together, all very large. He wasn’t sure what charging them would require, but he knew there was no way to fix them by staring at them. He closed the maintenance door and turned and looked at the hangars around them. They were sitting on the tarmac adjacent to one end of the runway. The control tower and airport, with its docking wings where passengers boarded the planes, were on the far end of the airfield. The large metal hangars nearby were probably private or corporate buildings. What Daniel needed was the mechanics shop. There was a smaller building with several maintenance vehicles parked in front of it, Daniel decided to start there.