Emily traverses a world covered in darkness by giant stone faces that scatter the skies above. But there just might be hope yet, even if it means the end of us all. About 5,100 words.
You used to hear stories about the before times. Before they came. Giant stone faces, some miles wide, appeared in the sky above us, throwing the world into an eerie twilight. Everything stopped.
Some of us acted rationally at first, following the footsteps of any good science fiction film about alien invasions. But when the Gods didn’t answer, we became irrational. What didn’t kill those of us in the initial blasts suffered slow deaths from the exposure of radiation.
Now, those who are left move from place to place, looking for shelter and food. Time wears on and fewer and fewer people tell stories anymore; fewer and fewer storytellers.
But travel is rough and a dangerous move could be the end of many. So you send scouts, runners to see if the trip is worth it. Sacrifice one life instead of many. A life like mine. A life that was already dismissed by most people. Not a whole lot you can do when you don’t have two arms like everyone else. Born defective, deemed worthless. Just like these last three scouting trips.
I followed the road along the wadi that led me back to camp. I tried not to look down the canyon. Where once was a rushing river was lined with the bodies of those who dared to move on to the unknown.
I stayed as close to the main road as I could. Scattered about were soccer ball sized holes, some about twenty or thirty feet deep, it seemed.
Something nagged at the base of my neck. I stopped for a moment and crouched down listening hard. Looking back over the canyon again, the nagging grew. Something was over there. I could feel the Earth grumble in the soles of my feet. I had to keep going.
My legs were heavy, using every bit of strength I had left to continue my trip. I always started out running at a good pace and finished strong, but this time, I could barely feel my toes.
Rounding the corner opened up to the shopping center, we had made our home for the time being. At its center was an old grocery store. We took it for the shelter, unfortunately, more so than any food we had found.
At the building’s edge, my foot caught something hard, and I came crashing down to the pavement. At the last moment, I twisted to fall on my shoulder rather than my face, but my knee didn’t have a chance. Pain struck deep. I could feel things turning and cracking.
“Shit!” I yelled. Mad at my outburst, I sucked wind through clenched teeth. I forced myself onto my back and stared up at the haunting faces. The one right above smiled a sinister grin, as if laughing at my misfortune. His empty eyes seemed to follow mine.
Each agonizing moment pounded in my head as I forced myself up. I put pressure on my right leg, pain shot up and down my foot. With each step, I walked on pins and needles. I bit my lip and winced from the pain.
Almost home.
A few final steps and I collapsed against the front door. With my head, I knocked the secret knock to alert those inside that I was friendly. A series of knocks echoed back, and I slowly pushed my way inside.
The ceiling shimmered an ember glow that grew from the far back corner in the bread aisle. I heard rough voices gaining volume as I limped along. Standing guard was Josh, a quiet man in his mid-30s. He had just finished digging a grave for his wife when we came across him.
Our eyes met, and he saw me struggle to walk. He rushed over to me, gripped me by the waist, and took on as much of my weight as possible. I felt a small bit of relief, which I was grateful for.
“What the hell happened to you?” he asked. I shook my head.
“Wasn’t paying attention. Ate shit,” I grinned. He smiled for a moment before looking down at my knee. Fear fell on him now.
He helped me to the communal gathering space. I could hear Dad’s deep voice arguing with Nigel, the one who thought he was a leader of a leaderless group of survivors.
“Emily!” Dad announced, walking over towards me. He saw the shape I was in and took my side as Josh let go. “What happened?” he asked. Dad lifted me up, but his knee gave way and almost dropped me.
“Dad!” I shouted as I fell hard onto my feet. My knee jostled under my pants and I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping not to pass out. Dad apologized, gripped my waist again, and walked me over to a small pillow on the floor. Each move sent striking pain throughout my body.
“I’m sorry, just, I…” his voice trailed off. “How are you?” he asked.
“I’m fine, just had a nasty spill. I’ll be good after resting,” I lied.
As I sat down, I noticed Nigel waiting impatiently, his fists balled on his hips.
“We aren’t finished,” Nigel said, sternly. Lula and Zeke, a couple we came across a few sleeps ago, turned to Nigel. Lula hadn’t spoken since we met and Zeke apologies to everyone for any minor inconvenience, whether it involves him or not. Dad frowned at me before reaching over for a few paper towels. He pressed them against my knee and I winced in pain.
“We are done for today. Our scout has returned with news,” he said.
“Not with good news,” I muttered. The group turned to me. “I ran for three sleeps. Came across a small town. Deserted; nothing left. There didn’t look to be much beyond that.” Zeke whispered something to Lula. Josh turned and paced the aisle. Dad’s head fell.
“We’re out of time then,” Nigel said, flatly. He looked into the eyes of the others. Dad shook his head.
“No, we are not out of time. We have as much time as we’ve ever had. These new findings don’t change what our priorities are. Which is food, water, shelter,” Dad explained.
“And now the only direction is south,” Nigel surmised.
“I felt something,” I said. They turned to face me again.
“What’s that, Em?” Dad asked. I cleared my throat.
“I felt a rumbling. South of here. There’s something…”. Dad shifted towards me. “I don’t know. Something. Something I’ve never felt before.” I turned to look at the others. Nigel stepped forward and knelt down.
“A rumbling? What kind of rumbling?” I shook my head.
“It felt deep; low. Like the world was moving underneath me.”
A wide, sinister grin flashed across Nigel’s face and he lightly slapped Dad on the shoulder.
“That has to be it. That has to be the heart. That’s where we will take it to them. Right in the heart.” Nigel stood up and danced a bit. I looked at Dad, confused.
“What’s he talking about? What heart?” I asked. Dad continued to clean and bandage my knee.
“We found something in the wild while you were gone,” he said, slowly. His eyes meet mine. “Bombs. Bombs made by them.” I peered over Dad’s shoulder to see Nigel lift a dark metal plate, mostly round, and examined it. There were three layers with a small handle on the side.
“I don’t understand. They didn’t go off?” I asked. Dad shook his head. “Why?”
“Because even God makes mistakes,” Nigel whispered, then looked over to me and Dad. Dad stood up and faced the group.
“Nigel believes that if we take these bombs to where they are connecting themselves to the Earth, we might be able to disrupt them and then who knows. It might-“
“Might end their hold on us. Give future generations a chance. A chance for the world to heal itself. We’ve done nothing since they arrived except for killing each other. I say no more. No more will we leave our future in the hands of them.” Nigel pointed a finger at the sky. “We will prevail,” he said, looking around the group.
Dad bent over and gripped my side.
“Can you stand?” he asked.
“Can you?” I asked, giving him a sly grin. I bent my left knee and together, Dad lifted me up to him. My weight fell into his arms and lifted me up off the ground. Pain ripped through my lower back and up my spine. I immediately lost my breath.
“There, there,” Dad whispered. “Time to rest.”
“We leave after this sleep,” Nigel announced. Dad stopped and turned to face him, but said nothing. Only turned back and walked us to the frozen food aisle where our space was made up. Dad laid me down on a pile of trash bags and last year’s beach blankets. The thickness did nothing for the cold that resonated from the concrete floor. Dad went to work finding something else for my injuries.
“Why haven’t they gone off?” I asked, adjusting my bed to keep my leg elevated.
“Hmm?” he asked, absentmindedly rummaging through what’s left of our duffle and grocery bags. I still think about my collection of hair scrunchies I left behind. And my one eyed Teddy Bear Dad gave to me when I was born. Mr. Teddy protected me from my nightmares late at night. Now everything seemed like a nightmare.
“The bombs. What’s stopping them from going off now?” I asked. Dad turned to me. His shoulders slumped. He started to mutter the beginning of an answer, but soon fell off.
“Sleep now,” he said at last. Dad bent down, kissed me on the forehead, and left the aisle. I told him I loved him. He turned and smiled. I tossed and turned the rest of the sleep, images of bombs going off in my face.
I awoke to Dad and Nigel arguing again. I kept my eyes closed to hear the world of sound around me. There was a shuffle just beyond me; Lula. She could never get a full sleep in. She always woke up crying and screaming. Zeke told us it was because she’d lost a baby she never had. I couldn’t make any sense of it.
I sat up and immediately felt the pressure tighten around my right knee. I broke out in a sweat. The voices hushed from the crinkling of the trash bags as I tried to flex the pressure out.
“Hey, kiddo, you’re up.” Dad knelt down and checked my bandage.
“What’s Nigel mad about now?” I asked. Dad stopped and took a deep breath.
“He wants to leave; now. We’ve run out of food and the only place to go is south,” he explained. Nigel’s voice raised in the distance.
“South to the Heart,” I thought out loud. Satisfied, Dad helped me up to my feet, and I hobbled out of aisle seven.
“What is it?” Dad asked, catching the looks of the other four. Nigel turned to reveal the bomb. It glowed a purplish hue that danced along its edges. My eyes grew wide. It was the most color I’d seen in months. A tear broke fast and trailed down my cheek. I tried to hide my smile. Dad stepped in front of me, blocking my view.
“It’s turned on in the middle of the sleep. It’s calling to its owner,” Nigel smiled. “We must go, now.” He turned to Zeke, Lula, and Josh. “Suit up.” Together, the four turned away and went back to their respective spaces and gathered their things.
“Nigel, wait! You don’t know if any of that is true,” Dad shouted.
“Dad!” I hollered back. He turned, and I nodded my head back to our space. “We’re leaving. Come on,” I said and walked back to get my backpack. Dad reluctantly followed behind me, and we quickly gathered our things. Dad helped me with my backpack, making sure the buckles on the front and sides were tight.
When we all met outside, I explained what I saw from the mountainside. Lula huddled close to Zeke while Josh kept a lookout. Nigel walked out from the front, struggling with his pack.
I looked back from our latest home, and my heart fell. I hated feeling this way. God, I’d die to feel the wind. To feel it fly across my face, drinking it in like water as my heart and legs beat to the same drum.
“Hey, I can’t carry both of these,” Nigel whined. “Someone needs to help.”
“I elect you take both and for you to stay as far away from us as possible,” Dad said, taking full strides back, giving Nigel as much room to drive a tank through. I heard Josh chuckle as he started off.
“I’ll take one,” Zeke said, stepping forward and opening his bag. Nigel smiled, pulled the pulsating bomb out of his pack and into Zeke’s. Zeke heaved it over his shoulder and Lula guided him out down the road, hand in hand.
The road we walked on was littered with cracks and broken rock. The sound of our footsteps filled the surrounding air. I had been walking in front of Dad for a while and I could hear his labored breathing growing louder. I fell back in pace to match him. He smiled, his eyes turning back to focus on his walking cane that we found in the pharmacy.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey, you OK?” he asked, looking down at my knee. I nodded. I kicked a rock out of my path and looked up at the sky. We fell into a rhythm.
“So how does it work?” I asked. I looked back at Dad. He smiled and shook his head.
“Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere near that thing,” he said.
“I need to know in case you forget,” I joked. He scuffed, acted offended, but laughed it off all the same.
“Well, we’re not sure, but we think it works like a toaster,” he said. I turned to him, flabbergasted. He put his hands up in protest.
“I’m serious. It’s got this little handle on the side of it and sort of springs into place. Then, after a few moments,” his hands exploded apart and his mouth made the “boom” noise. “At least, we think so,” he added.
“That’s crazy,” I said, shaking my head.
“Yeah, it makes you wonder about some of the other technology we got. Like, did CD players come from Roswell?” he asked. I looked at him again, my face screwed up in confusion, but he just laughed again. “But yeah,” he went on. “Just like a toaster. Like the one we had in the kitchen and your Mom would…” his voice trailed off. He hadn’t talked about Mom in a while. Well, since before all of this. He caught his breath, and we continued our walk in silence.
After a few miles, civilization fell away to nature. Tall, thin tree trunks took over where rock and stone had been. The twilight gave off hints of shadows and floating specs in the air.
“Stay together,” Dad said, his voice reaching to the front of the group where Josh was spearheading the trek. Josh stopped, waited for the rest of us to bring up the rear, and continued his walk slower than before.
I looked over at Dad and saw him clutching his cane harder with each step. It was getting worse; I knew. He did a good job faking it, but I knew.
Something glimmered in the corner of my eye and I stopped and turned in its direction. I held my breath as I searched the gaps between the trees. The ground seemed to glow more as the twilight bounced around the forest.
Another glimmer, but this time, Nigel saw it, too.
“Guardians!” shouted Josh. Without hesitation, I moved in behind Dad and matched his stride.
“Let’s go,” I said, trying to encourage him. He nodded, and together we doubled our speed. Zeke and Lula gripped each other tight, and sped off in front of us. I looked to the side to see Nigel far to my right. Just behind him, floating through the trees, was another glimmer.
“Nigel!” I shouted. He turned to face me. I nodded behind him, then he turned and looked, but the glimmer disappeared. Looking back towards me, his face dropped. He pointed at me and Dad.
“Behind you!” he shouted. Before I could look, a streak of color flashed before my eyes. I jumped back and tumbled to the ground. I felt hands on me, on my waist and backpack, almost instantly as Dad pulled me to my feet. With his hand around my waist, we took off again, leaving his cane behind us in the dirt.
Zeke and Lula fell to the ground as a Guardian pounced in front of them. Like colors from a prism, the light danced before them, swirling back and forth, almost taunting them to run off. I turned in their direction, but Dad held me back and pulled me away. I started to protest, but Dad kept running.
The sound of static filled the air above us. The four of us turned to look back. A Guardian stood atop Zeke and Lula, the erratic sound admitted from its lungs. Two more glimmers danced from either side to join the first. Lula screamed, grabbed for Zeke. Something clicked and a loud beeping noise rang through the air. My heart stopped. Dad grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. I spun around, found my footing, and pumped my legs.
I fell into a runner’s high, counting “Mississippis” with each passing second. A trick I learned from cross-country track to keep your monkey mind busy while the rest of me fell into a small series of motions. A bright flash of light emitted behind us accompanied by the dull thud of the bomb’s explosion. It was sort of like a muted bass drum. A sonic wave washed over us, forcing us down to our knees. I smelled something burning like battery acid. It filled my nose. The taste on my tongue was rotten.
When we reached the end of the wood, it was only the four of us. We jogged back onto pavement and after a few quick turns, we were at the edges of a ruined city. Old neon signs of the before times prayed to glow once more.
Lost cars littered the streets. The stagnant air hung heavy from the closeness of the surrounding walls. Cold brick buildings met us at each turn as we continued south.
Exhausted, Dad led us over to a small enclave of an old department building. Nigel was the first to sit down, his head resting in his hands. Dad leaned up against the door, catching his breath. Josh paced about. I took the moment to sit down and flex my legs. My knee continued to ache, but the throbbing in my head took over. I took deep breaths, but they all fell short.
“How long was that?” Dad asked. Nigel rubbed his eye sockets, then looked out bewildered.
“What?” he asked. I turned on the curb to face them.
“How long was it from the beeping to the bomb…” His hands were shaking.
“How the hell should I know?” Nigel shouted. I closed my eyes and flexed the muscles in my neck. I thought back. The beeping started, I turned and started running. 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi.
“Fourteen seconds,” I said at last. Dad turned to me. “Fourteen seconds. There were ten beeps, but it took fourteen seconds. Fourteen seconds.”
My breath was haggard. My mind played back a loop of what just happened. I could hear the blast and the burst of Zeke and Lula. I felt sick to my stomach.
Dad stepped down and presented his hand to me. In his palm were a few Skittles.
“Come on,” he said. “You have to eat something and this is all we have left.” I looked down at the sweet candies embossed with their trademarked “S”. I miss M&Ms.
I nodded my head, and Dad lifted his hand to my mouth. I sucked in one Skittle and chewed it in the back of my mouth. Dad offered the others to Nigel and Josh, but they both declined.
The candy gave my mouth something to do instead of gnawing on what to do next. Josh stopped and looked up and down the road. A broken down cab blocked the view in front of us. Josh took a deep breath.
“We need to get going. The Guardians might be scopin’ us out. Or scavengers.” Nigel waved his hand.
“Who cares about scavengers? We don’t have anything to give them,” he said, his half laugh fell to a sob.
“Scavengers will eat whatever meat they can get ahold of,” Josh said.
I leaned forward and looked up and down the road.
“I think we need to take a moment to collect ourselves. Some of us can’t move as fast as the others,” Dad said, nodding down at me. I stood up.
“Here, my turn.” I turned so that my backpack was facing Nigel. He didn’t move. I turned my head to see him out of the corner of my eye. “My turn,” I said again.
“Emily, wait,” Dad protested. I faced him.
“Fourteen seconds. Fourteen seconds, then boom. How far can you run in fourteen seconds? You think you’re going to make it out of whatever we’re walking into in fourteen seconds?” My smile went flat. Dad took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. He looked down at Nigel and nodded his approval.
Nigel twisted in his seat, slipped his backpack off his back, unzipped it, and pulled out the bomb. While he held it, the pulsing light erupted around the center ring. A low hum vibrated out.
Nigel almost dropped it before quickly slipping it into my bag and zipping it up. I shifted my shoulders to feel the unfamiliar weight on my back. I pulled my knees up to my chest, one at a time, and felt the sting again.
Something metal clanged off in the distance. All of us turned to find its source. And then it made sense. I took off down the road.
“Emily, stop!” Dad shouted. I shifted my shoulders up to readjust my backpack and fell into a comfortable stride. My voice echoed up the city street.
“It’s the light! He was right. They are attracted to the light,” I shouted.
The sound of static raced over my head, and I looked up. Small glimmers of light flashed back and forth, showing off to the Gods that hung above us. Dad and Nigel slowly ran down the street while Josh bounded past the parked cars and downed power lines.
“Dad!” I yelled. Josh caught up to me then and together we took off. Small holes littered the concrete. Josh and I weaved along the road. I took a moment to see Dad and Nigel forcing themselves to catch up. Just behind them were the Guardians. Their shimmering light flashed at the top of the hill, then raced down towards us.
I turned and saw Josh far out in front of me. As we approached the bridge, dead cars scattered each lane. Josh went left, and I went right. The tattered sign over head read “Welcome to Kentucky”. I took a moment to stop to find Dad amongst the debris. He was picking Nigel up from the ground, a curse escaping his lips, and pulled him along onto the bridge.
The Guardians took their full form now, a mess of twisting light that bounded on four legs. The air overhead grew thicker. I kept my head down and focused on my steps, my breathing. My backpack swayed back and forth. I glanced to the side and saw that we were just over halfway across the bridge. I took the moment to turn back to find Dad and Nigel, arm in arm, limping together. I slid to a stop and shouted to Josh. He was about five or ten feet in front of me. He shouldered a car to stop his momentum.
Josh’s face lit up in terror, his attention down at his feet. I followed his gaze and saw a crack in the bridge form beneath him. A nearby car’s left tire dipped and fell into the newly made chasm.
Josh immediately took off toward Dad and Nigel. The crack continued to spread and grow, swallowing car after car, making its way back to the city side. Dad saw the events opening in front of him and looked me dead in the eyes as the bridge began to collapse.
“Em! Come back!” his arm motioning back. I looked at the tumbling of the bridge and then back to Dad. The Guardians were almost on them now, seemingly no concern for the falling bridge.
“Emily!” Dad shouted again. But it was too late. The bridge created a twenty-foot gap, and the Guardians were right behind them. I ducked down behind the end of a car and closed my eyes. I heard shouts and screams. After a few seconds, I couldn’t take it any longer, and ran off down the ramp and into the wilderness.
My breathing came hard. I focused on my legs pumping, my feet slapping the ground. My heart pounded in my ears. The road groaned under my feet, reminding me I still had a job to do.
I ran another couple hundred feet before stopping to catch my breath. I dropped to one knee and took the moment to stretch the stiffness from my neck and flex my shoulders. The Earth quaked beneath me so hard it rattled my bones.
Just beyond the hillside was a used car lot. All the cars’ windows were busted out and dust had covered most of them. Behind the building, I saw the outline of a spiraling cone of stars falling down to the Earth. With each touch, the ground shook. After a few moments, the cone would rise and disappear into the twilight. A stone face peered down at me as if it knew what I was up to. Another shake. This was the place.
When I stood up, I felt the lighting strike of pain rush from my knee and up to my spine. I cried out and dropped to the floor again. With each pulse, my knee throbbed with pain echoing throughout my body. Blood soaked my bandage. Biting back tears, I twisted and forced myself to my knees. A sharp pain in my back from where I had fallen on my backpack only laughed at my added agony.
Satisfied that no one had heard me, I limped off the exit and rounded the bend.
A tall chain-link fence surrounded the car lot. Tall trees covered the back of the building. The rumbling grew louder with each step I took.
Slipping through the bent gate, I sidled from car to car, waited to hear if anything was moving about before moving to the next. I slipped to the last car and around behind the office building.
The back lot comprised an old dumpster, a cigarette pot, and a couple of lawn chairs. At the center, a small crack gave way to a much larger one following deep into the woods. Another cone slammed into the Earth some hundred feet away and I felt my legs go weak. I took a moment, mind blank, and felt every single rumble beneath me. I let the vibration course through me.
I crouched down low, and walked to the edge of the crack. The way the rock fell open was almost like a small descending staircase. With each slow step, I prayed the rattle wouldn’t make me slip and fall down the shaft. Thankfully, I dropped to solid ground that opened up into a small cave.
I took a deep breath in and smelled a faint sense of cinnamon and hot air. The deeper I walked, the more humid the air became. Now the rumblings felt like earthquakes. More than once I fell into one of the walls, hoping that another crack wouldn’t appear swallowing me whole.
With each new breath, I felt the sharp edge of something coat my lungs. I was so tired. I just wanted to rest.
A few more feet and the floor leveled out. Twilight fell from an open in the ceiling, cascading light down a long dark tunnel. Each bang came a force of air pushing down, then a rush of air up. Rock and debris fell as the Gods breathed in the Earth.
I slumped to the ground. My backpack fell from my shoulders. Every inch of me ached with pain and torture. I felt a level of tiredness I have never felt before in my life.
I struggled to move to the side of the backpack. Gripping the zipper loosely between my toes, I dragged it open and the bomb slipped out. The disc slid onto the ground, giving off a purple hue lighting the cave even more. My toe touched the lever. It felt thick like tar. I took another deep breath and closed my eyes.
This was it. Breath held and eyes closed, I slowly pushed my foot down on the lever.
Something fell in the distance. I stopped and turned my head towards it looking about. I exhaled hard and felt the fire on my lungs. My head fell into a cloud as my body pulsed with pain. My foot fell on something odd and I got distracted by the swirling dirt that flew up to a hole in the ceiling. Almost like fairies dancing in the moonlight.
I curled my knees up and against my chest and rocked the chill out. Moving my toes, I felt the confidence to stand up.
The surrounding area was cold and dark. It looked like I was in a deep cave. The air smelled a sense of cinnamon and stale air. From my knees, I pushed up to stand and looked around. My right knee was bandaged and covered in blood. On the ground in front of me was a small metal disc and someone’s discarded backpack.
The disc pulsed with a swirling color. I have never seen so much color since before–
I lost my thought. I took a step forward and looked for an exit.
Where the hell was I?
