Making love any time and any place, as long as it was outdoors, was their gift in this scary, brave new world. They didn’t worry about access to pills or condoms. Their world began and ended with a beautiful encounter, and it might be up to them to repopulate the planet, after all. At night, Evelin nestled into the space between Aaron’s arm and chest.
“When I first realized we were surrounded by death, I cursed the world,” he told her. “Then I learned to rejoice when we accomplished some little task.”
She turned her head and kissed his neck. “It doesn’t really matter whether we ever find anyone else, does it? Not really?”
“We always want what we can’t obtain. If suddenly there’s a village, I’ll be the first to run toward it. But I can tell you that for the first time in my life I’m content with who I am and what I have.”
“Me too,” Evelin replied as twinkling stars gathered overhead, their pinpoints of light beaming from suns burned out millions of years before.
Aaron looked into the heavens. “Even when we can’t see the stars, I know they’re there. I think about other surviving humans we haven’t found, feeling their way along, looking for meaning in their forever-altered lives.” He kissed Evelin tenderly and then said, “Here we are on this blue bauble in a sea of night. It still turns as it always has and the universe doesn’t care if its creatures have eyes or wings or dreams. Everything just is.”
It wasn’t often that Aaron waxed poetic, but his attempt seemed apropos. “We can’t lose each other,” Evelin said and wrapped her legs around Aaron.
“We won’t, baby,” he answered before they fell asleep with their separate dreams of the new world order.
Lost in thought while walking, Aaron and Evelin heard something unusual—the clanging of a bell. Following the sound, they approached quietly, knowing if they encountered other survivors it wasn’t a given they would be friendly. The noise came from a large tree near a farmhouse. Cautious inspection revealed a bell hung from a piece of lumber. A tree branch brushed against it every time a strong gust of wind came along.
“A tree house,” Evelin exclaimed. “Let’s check it out.”
Aaron watched as Evelin scampered toward the huge oak and placed her foot on the first two-by-four nailed to its trunk. She started up as nimbly as any kid who ever climbed up to his or her special place.
“God, Evelin. Stop!” Aaron suddenly screamed. He ran to the base of the tree and grabbed her nearest booted ankle, almost causing her to come crashing down.
“Aaron!”
“It’s a structure, honey. I almost forgot.”
Evelin glanced up. The tree house had a tin roof. A piece of material, a checkered wool sleeve, fluttered over the edge of the platform in the breeze. Her emotions once again climbed aboard a roller coaster. The day had begun with birds singing in the trees, only to end in a meteoric descent into the void.
“Oh God, Aaron. I wasn’t thinking.”
With Aaron’s frightened upturned face below her tanned legs and bare bottom, she backed down and fell into his waiting arms.
“I’m such a ditz sometimes,” she said, fighting back tears. Hopelessness swept over her as she looked into her husband’s eyes.
Their naked bodies pressed together for reassurance. Sudden reminders of what had changed the world—like the crashed plane or the armless sleeve—were a nasty shock. Evelin rested her head against Aaron’s chest and let the tears come. They trickled down his chest. Without platitudes or attempts at wit, he held the back of her head until it was all out and her tears began to dry, until the catharsis gave both of them the strength to move on.
“I’m all right now,” she finally said, and wondered why there were never better words to soothe fear and regret. Only God, if there was one, could know how many times they had averted disaster since the world went quiet.
“All I know is a few years with you will be more rewarding than a world filled with other people,” Aaron said. He kissed Evelin’s lips to try and make her forget what could have happened.
Would they ever know if it was safe to enter anything? Aaron often thought of catching a rabbit and tossing it inside something, but Evelin wouldn’t allow it. It was better not to know than take a life of any kind unnecessarily, she believed. To the north, the direction they had come, thunderclouds were gathering. South was where their destiny waited. They’d learned to survive in the elements, and as long as they avoided injury and kept moving south…
By mid-summer, a year after their nomadic life began, they reached the ocean. They momentarily pondered the possibility of ships or sailboats. Seeing none, they reasoned that controls were in cabins and probably led sailors to a fate similar to everyone else. And if not, why would anyone be on the water after a year?
They played like this was a vacation to some exotic destination. They dropped their packs and weapons, pulled off their footwear, and ran happily into the surf. They frolicked in the waves, rising and dipping like fishing bobbers. Aaron kissed Evelin’s lips with greedy abandon, mashed his wet chest against hers, and enveloped her in his arms.
“What happens on the beach stays on the beach,” he joked as they ran their fingers through one another’s wet hair and stroked each others’ toughened, sun-baked skin. Their goal was realized. They let the waves carry them toward shore and then back toward the abyss, not much caring where they were taken as long as they were together.
Upon returning to shore, Aaron asked Evelin if she would care to dance. A smile crept across her face, an honest good-natured smile he hadn’t seen for a while. He started to hum “Unforgettable.”
“A tummy tickler,” she laughed and melted against Aaron the way every man hungers for, clinging like a vine long familiar with the stone it intertwines. With her head against his shoulder, she hummed along with him.
When they were hummed out, she asked him to sing a fast one. He sang a bastardized rendition of Michael Jackson’s “Billy Jean.” Evelin began her own variation of booty shaking. With her arms raised above her head, she resembled something between a Spanish contessa clicking castanets and Botticelli’s painting of The Birth of Venus, enjoying the freedom of her own space.
“You move beautifully,” he told her.
She didn’t answer. She was caught up in the rhythm of the song. It had been so long. She hated to stop, but finally did. “Thank you, honey.” She reached out and touched Aaron’s arm to show her appreciation for bringing just a speck of their former lives back to them.
He felt very close to the treasure that spoke to him, the schoolteacher who’d traipsed across half the country with him. He believed they had never loved each other any more than now. They lay next to each other and sunbathed, the long stretch of beach hauntingly reserved just for them. After a while, they reluctantly picked up their supplies. It didn’t seem to matter in which direction they went, but they chose to go south.
After beachcombing for a couple of miles, Evelin suddenly stopped and clutched Aaron’s arm. He looked at her and then down the stretch of coastline. He froze. Something was lying on the beach. Either mannequins or—?
One of the forms moved. A man. Holy Christ! And a woman. A couple lounging in the sand, as brown and as naked as Aaron and Evelin. The pair sat up. Aaron and Evelin approached cautiously, wanting to rub their eyes to make sure the sun hadn’t gotten to them.
Not a mirage. The couple stood.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” the man said. He walked toward Aaron and Evelin and offered his hand. “Tarzan and Jane, I presume?”
Aaron and Evelin thought they might be embarrassed by their nakedness if encountering other people, but they weren’t. They’d been naturists too long. Neither had any idea what to say to the couple, who looked to be in their thirties.
“There are eight of us,” the man said, anticipating the questions sure to come. “We left our camp and went for a hike. When we got back, everyone else was gone.”
For a year, Aaron and Evelin had only heard each other’s vo
ices, so this new audio sounded almost alien. “Just their clothes, huh?” Aaron asked.
“Oh no. No clothes. We belonged to a nudist colony.”
“A nudist camp,” Evelin said with a look of surprise. “Those most likely to be outdoors.”
“We think it was some new organism with the sudden power to eradicate living cells within all enclosures,” the man said matter-of-factly. “Something completely illogical.”
“Kind of like The Andromeda Strain?” Aaron hypothesized.
“We’ll probably never know. There were nine of us. We watched Jack disappear at the door of a men’s restroom. It was a good month after the event. Whatever it is may have mutated to something safe by now, but we don’t plan on testing it again. Not until one of us is at death’s doorstep and is willing to volunteer.”
The woman now stood by the man. She said, “We’re all independent types, but we do have a bit of a civilization going, if you care to join us.”
Aaron hesitated. “You’ll have to forgive us for staring,” he told the couple. “We haven’t seen anyone for a year. I think we’re both in shock.”
“Quite understandable,” the man said.
“Where do you sleep?” Evelin asked.
“Under open-air configurations with palm frond roofs. Protection produced by nature is no problem,” the man answered. “Come along with us and let us at least feed you. Our digs have a nonconventional ambience if nothing else. We have a nice garden and a few head of livestock, so you won’t need your spears unless you like to throw them at trees.”
“Convention is in the mind of the beholder,” Evelin said. “Do you ride bicycles?”
The couple looked at Evelin and laughed. “All the time,” the man said. “They’re good to scout for useful items. We even rollerblade and skateboard just for fun.”
“If you want to stay with us, you’re welcome,” the woman added. “If not, we can appreciate your new life is just meant for the two of you. You might find our company tedious or irritating.”
“Have any beer?” Aaron asked.
“Golden nectar from the land of sky blue waters,” the man said with a smile. “Found cases and cases in bottles at the site of an outdoor soiree. Keep them cold in a swimming pool.”
Evelin and Aaron looked at each other and passed a silent message. The four humans stood naked in the sea breeze, concerns gradually easing.
“I might add one thing,” the woman said. “One in our party is a nurse. It looks to me like she might be a handy person to be around in a few more months.” She glanced at Evelin’s bare tummy. “Life is a miracle and we’re all very lucky.”
“You might be right,” Evelin answered. To Aaron, she said, “Let’s go have a look-see, hon. See if we can remember what after-dinner conversation in mixed company is like.”
Evelin and Aaron did go to dinner and stayed for many more. Five months after their sojourn ended at the coastline, Evelin had a baby boy. They named him Adam. The small band of survivors was elated over the baby and neither Aaron nor Evelin minded that Adam inherited a handful of godfathers and godmothers. An extended family made it possible for the young couple to sneak off occasionally to try and make a brother or sister for Adam, but they were never gone long. Not with their new arrival waiting at camp and a new reason to stay in one place—a reason for starting fresh.
Not long after Adam’s birth, something else happened. On one of the men’s reconnaissance bike rides, they came across a huge sign. It revealed the existence of another group of sixty people. Coordinates left behind placed their destination about sixty miles north from the Naked Ten Plus One. The NTPO, that’s what Aaron and Evelin’s little band called themselves now.
One member of the group to the north was a chemist who knew something about natural science. He left a lengthy note protected in plastic with the large sign. The gist of his theory was that the hole in the ozone layer had grown to critical mass, allowing deadly rays to permeate the atmosphere. Although the rays were everywhere, they were somehow drawn to artificial creations, which absorbed catastrophic levels.
The note rambled on a bit concerning conspiracy theories about how scientists probably knew the danger, but couldn’t have predicted exactly when such an event might occur. As with the nuclear tests that devastated the Bikini Islands with radiation, it might be decades or longer until structures were safe. Or, more likely, until the ozone layer was able to repair itself. The truth was, Aaron and Evelin’s group cared little about the cause. They were doing fine without the use of buildings and machines and the trappings of rules and regulations, thank you very much. They had their lives and each other to care about.
The northern group must have included a philosopher as well, because the missive about the apocalypse’s cause ended with another note that read: Every beginning is only a continuation and the book of fate is always open in the middle.
The NTPO were delighted to discover the existence of another pocket of humans, but were reluctant to seek them out, not at all sure they wanted to join a larger group. Large communes had a history of not being all they were cracked up to be. And the group was none too keen about putting clothes back on.
But one thought resigned Evelin and Aaron to move north. There might be children who could use a teacher or other infants in the larger group. Survival of the species would require several new babies.
And in the end, the other eight followed, because they had grown to love their new family and would cast their lot to whatever situation might confront their very own Tarzan, Jane, and boy.
After J. T. Seate read a few of his stories to his parents, they booted him out of the house. Undaunted, he continues to write everything from humor to the erotic to the macabre, and is especially keen on transcending genre pigeonholing. His tales span the gulf from Horror Novel Review’s Best Short Fiction Award to Chicken Soup for the Soul. They may be told with hardcore realism or fantasy, bringing to life the most quirky of characters. Novels include Valley of Tears, Tears for the Departed, And the Heavens Wept, and Paranormal Liaisons. His story collections are Carnival of Nightmares, Midway of Fear, Sex in Bloom, and A Baker’s Dozen, available at melange-books.com and bookswelove.net/authors/seate-troy.
Earth
Don’t Fool with
an Earth Witch
by
J. D. Blackrose
My fingers burrowed into the ground and I cast a healing spell for the Earth. She hurt today and I could feel her pain as my own. Recently, she was always hurting, but this spot of land was my responsibility.
Rumor was that a careless driver had thrown a lit cigarette out the window and started the fire that left all this ash. The area was already dry; one spark had been enough to set the area ablaze. But dryness or no, there was an undercurrent to this particular fire that felt like dark magic.
“Sadie, bring me that watering can, will you?” Sadie, a Golden Rottie, a combination of a golden retriever and a Rottweiler, grasped the handle with her teeth and carried the full can to me without spilling a drop.
“Thanks, girl.” I gave her a pat. She sniffed as if to say, of course.
I dug a hole in the ground and poured the water into it, chanting an incantation of seeing. The water formed a smooth surface and my reflection peered back at me. I repeated the chant two more times. Vapor rose from the water’s surface in the shape of a human being, masculine in form, who leaned over a hole in the ground, as I was, but this man was not healing anything. He was pouring a thick liquid into the ground and the Earth was unhappy about it, which is why She showed me this image.
Fire is part of the Earth’s cleansing cycle, and actually brings new life to the forest, but this was a violation.
I walked home, Sadie in tow, thinking about what I’d seen. My other dog, Gimli, a bulldog, waited on the steps.
The air became heavier, and I caught a peculiar scent on the breeze. It made my arm hair stand on end and a shiver run down my spine. I spun, looking for the intruder. Both dogs were
growling at something to my left so I focused my attention there.
“You’re already looking for me,” said a voice. “That was fast.” A shimmer in front of me coalesced into the man I’d seen in my vision.
With a gesture and a whisper of my will, a nearby oak branch bent down, snagged him by his robe, and lifted him high into the air even as he solidified. “Never surprise an earth witch,” I said.
The warlock, swinging in the wind, nodded. “It’s not nice to fool with Mother Nature. I get it. May I come down?”
“I’m not Mother Nature, but I do know Her. You’re correct. You really, really don’t want to mess with Her. Why did you poison the Earth?”
“I wasn’t trying to poison the Earth, per se. I was trying to ascertain how much silver is buried here. I used a seeking spell and then the magic got excited by the fire and accelerated.”
“You ravaged this mountain because you were careless? Nice. You’re working for DB Miners?”
“Yes.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“Holly, you need to be reasonable. Since the Fae came out of the shadows, the price of silver has skyrocketed. The miners have a right to access the silver.”
“No, they don’t. This mountain and the neighboring forty-five acres belong to my family, as they have for generations, and I say no. And it’s Ms. Springfield to you. Don’t presume to use my first name, Mr. Walker.”
“You can call me Gareth. My feet are falling asleep. Can you please let me down?”
I flicked my wrist, and the branch flung him a far distance. I had no idea where he set down, but I considered the warlock sufficiently skilled enough to land without breaking a leg. I didn’t feel any reverberating pain, so he was unharmed. Unfortunately.
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