Epoch Earth; the Great Glitch Page 17

  Straightening to my full height, five-seven on a good hair day, I closed the flaps of my flannel shirt with my non-machete hand. “What are you doing out here?” I asked, trying my best to sound badass.

  He didn’t seem to much care about that either. Lowering the machete only slightly, I eyed his thin frame as he hunched over retching beside my tree. His curls looked gray, although I could tell he wasn’t much over twenty. I chalked that up to the dust in the air. His skin, however, seemed almost the same shade of ash of its own accord. He wore a smudged white t-shirt, tucked into a loose pair of blue work pants. The belt connecting the two was pulled to the last notch and stuck out in front of him like an unflattering floppy appendage. Another of the things he didn’t seem to give much credence.

  Then my gaze fell to his shoes. Scuffed and falling apart, they were both held together by a generous amount of duct tape. Still, those black and red Southerland sneakers were what I recognized... not the frail sick man in them.

  I gasped and my hand instinctively flew to my mouth; the one with the machete. I quickly put it away and bent over to help him up. He didn’t budge. Instead he looked up at me again with those vacant eyes and pointed at his open flaky lips.

  I frowned. “I... I don’t have any water. That’s why I’m out here. Someone stole ours.”

  He stared at me, blinked once, and pointed at his mouth again.

  Not knowing what else to do, I waved my hands in the ‘gone-gone’ motion that we used to do with Brooks when he was a baby. That appeared to work, because the man groaned and slunk further down the tree.

  “Don’t move,” I said, not that he was going to anyway. “There has to be water nearby. We’re in the woods for Stone’s sake.” I was so out of sorts that I practically yelled that last line at him, throwing up my arms in exasperation.

  He raised his bony fingers toward a spot in the woods behind me. I tried hard not to notice the various sets of scratches on his arm, all set uniformly apart like claw marks from something much bigger than I wanted to come across.

  I motioned for him to sit tight and untied the machete from my belt.

  The stream wasn’t far from where I’d stopped. Under normal circumstances I would have made it there with no trouble. But after the night at the police station with Howie—well, let’s just say I wasn’t feeling myself.

  Getting there wasn’t the issue, though.

  As I approached the edge of the stream, alternately high stepping into sand piles and crunching dead tree limbs beneath my feet, I could see straight through the thin film of water to the mud below. When I untied the first jug and bent to the stream, a strong odor of decay almost made me add a layer of vomit to the dead leaves and slick film floating by. Taking two cleansing breaths I held a third one in and bent lower to fill the jug.

  The water wasn’t moving, as much as undulating with the mud below it. The process of swirling the jug in the muck, stepping back to breathe, and returning to the stream, took an immense amount of time. My arms and legs ached by the time I finished. I staggered far enough away from the mud river to breathe normally, and weighed my options.

  I found a sturdy enough looking crooked tree just off the embankment and crouched next to it. After a few minutes, my breath restored, I still didn’t move, paralyzed by indecision. I had to get the water back to Brooks. My brain screamed this to me over and over like an alarm that wouldn’t snooze. He was probably so worried by now. I’d promised to hurry, and yet there I sat watching the sun stretch long orange arms over the treetops.

  My fingers stroked the rough plastic water jug, dried mud flaking away with each pass. I wanted desperately to jump up and run straight home to Brooks. Yet I didn’t.

  That man, someone I’d met before, someone I couldn’t call a total stranger, was only a few yards away. If I strained, craned my sore neck an inch in his direction, I’d be haunted by his moaning for water as he lay dying.

  Or maybe that was Howie’s moans from last night still echoing in my ears. Either way I sighed loudly to push the sound away, replace it with my own deep hum.

  I knew if I didn’t go back to help him, he’d surely die. The last time I’d seen the man, his uniform barely covered his pudgy midsection and now... Now that belt pulled to the last notch and hung limp in front of him. He wasn’t long for this world.

  So, I rationalized, did that mean I would be wasting our precious water on a doomed man? If I gave him our water, our only water, and he died anyway, would I be any better than the thieves who had stolen water right out of our mouths? Brooks’s tiny parched lips?

  But if I walked away? Left him to die? Could my conscience bear that weight? Stone, I wanted my mom.

  A minute... or thirty... later, I knew what I had to do. The only thing my conscience would allow.

  I walked farther up the embankment, feeling my way through the dried-out husks of trees. The orange haze of sunset had long since morphed into ink black shadows. One by one I clung to the crumbling gray bark, my fingertips shredding. But I knew if I loosened my grip in the slightest I’d run back to him, lay all our water at his feet, and beg for forgiveness.

  When I reached the clearing, so thankful to be back on mostly solid ground, I paused. I stared at my tattered shoes—not the same ones I’d been wearing when I first met the volunteer cop I’d just sentenced to die. Despite the Glitch’s best efforts, I had outgrown those and needed a new pair. These dark gray running shoes had appeared at my doorstep a few months after Mom died with a note pinned to the laces. An anonymous gift from someone whose handwriting I did not recognize.

  Remembering that time, the thankless show of humanity from some stranger, made my decision to leave... I searched for his name in my memory and came up empty handed. My decision to leave him felt all the more unjust and selfish. But then I remembered the other pair of shoes on the porch that morning, much smaller than my own, and the smile that had spread across Brooks’s sallow face when he first saw them.

  That face was the reason I had to walk home now, my utility belt weighted by four gallons of mud.

  Steeling myself, I slowly raised my head, then a bit higher, and headed home. Toward the only person who truly mattered.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Something didn’t feel right on the walk home... or to wherever I was going. With all the street lights out, I couldn’t read any signs. This usually wasn’t an issue since I stayed well on the beaten path most days. And since I’d spent my whole life in that small radius of familiarity.

  However, this wasn’t most days. And nothing around me was familiar anymore. I’d gone in a completely new direction that morning thinking I’d only be out a couple hours at most. And now, distracted by my guilt, I had wandered aimlessly for too long. I was lost. Even the smells, burnt rubber and clotted milk, weren’t the usual brand of decay my nose had grown accustomed to.

  And then I saw it. Well, heard it first I suppose; the way your lizard brain hears something long before the rest of you.

  When two-thirds of the world dies all at once, you get used to silence. The hustle and bustle of city life feels like a distant memory. Your new normal consists of an occasional wild dog howling at the moon, on the rare nights it can be seen through the crackling electric haze. If you were lucky you’d catch a bird chirping out a mating call, though never a response.

  What you didn’t hear was mechanical sounds of any kind; cars, trucks, heavy machinery. Even the BDU had resorted to dragging away starved corpses on bicycles fitted with flatbed wagons.

  The only cars on the road those days had sirens, and I didn’t care to see another one of those in all my days left on this planet.

  Most of all, what you never heard, ever... was voices. Which was exactly what I heard, shattering my subconscious penance. A whole slew of them in fact.

  I looked around quickly for a way out, mad at myself for getting so wrapped up in my own drama that I wasn’t prepared for this. I didn’t recognize my surroundings at all. The houses, what was left
of them, looked foreign—menacing. In the dark of night their facades looked more like demon faces than the bright bay windows and solid oak doors that had lured so many families to the suburbs.

  My skin crawled like a million tiny insect legs skittered up my spine. The voices were male and sinister. I wasn’t sure if my fear of being alone and exposed had turned them sinister or if they’d started out that way themselves, but I knew I couldn’t wait around to find out.

  I ran to the tree line, tripping over a thick pile of sand, but managed to catch myself – with my face – on a low branch. Wrapping my arms around the offending limb, I pulled myself up. Dread propelled me to climb further, but by the next highest branch, the world began to swirl. My grip tightened around the trunk, further ripping the skin from my hands. I swallowed the scream as the voices neared.

  As I stood there, clinging to the tree and trying not to breathe out loud, I started to second guess myself. Then the voices returned. There were three of them right below me. And that feeling crept across my shoulders again. My lizard brain knew better than I did, so I stayed put.

  “He’s gotta be around here somewhere.” One of the three whispered. I looked down to see them huddling together not far from the base of my tree.

  All three wore the same type of knock-off uniform that the man in the woods had been wearing when I met him the first time. Yet theirs were clean, sort of, and fit properly.

  The shortest of the three grinned, exposing long eye teeth that could have easily been fangs. I told myself it was just the shadows and my fear. “Come out deserter!” His eyes scanned the woods as he drew out the taunt long enough to match his teeth.

  The man in the middle pursed his lips into a tight closed O and I swore I saw a flinch near his eye. “Sarge said to bring him back,” he reminded his compatriot.

  “Yeah, yeah. Quit being a pussy, Jawa.” The alpha of the group smacked him.

  The beta rubbed the spot on the back of his neck. “Jus’ sayin’.” Through his obvious embarrassment, I also recognized disgust. I didn’t think he liked his nickname, or being compared to female anatomy.

  “Don’t worry,” the short one grinned again. “He’ll be begging for Sarge by the time we’re done with him.”

  I shivered at the thought of what these goons would do if they found him. Then again at how close I’d come to being there with him when they did. And yet again when my skin prickled, another wave of tiny feet skittering across my flesh. Only this time, they were real.

  I gasped and flung my hand, whatever large roach-like monster that had been on it flew across the sky. Through the inky film of night sky, one lonely ray of moonlight glistened off the hard exoskeleton of the creature. In that horrid flicker of light, I watched the thing land right on the face of the alpha goon, which he’d so kindly turned upward at my gasp, mouth agape.

  He spat, screaming something about tasting legs, then began vomiting on the roots of my tree.

  Still hoping by some miracle to go unnoticed, I hugged the tree tighter. The bark dug deep into my palms. I felt, and heard, my skin give, allowing the tree’s diseased edges entrance into my bloodstream. I made no sound.

  The tall one, Jawa, bent to help his friend puke while the other, scarier one, smiled that toothy grin at my feet. “Why don’t you come down here and say ‘hi’ little bird?” The words dripped from his lips like hot saliva. I didn’t obey.

  He inched closer, directly under me, and picked up a fallen branch. “Now.” I closed my feet inward making myself one with the tree.

  The branch flew through the air, striking my shin and nearly knocking my leg from under me. I recovered my footing and stayed put, a single yelp escaping my resolve.

  At that, the tall one said, “Leave her alone, Cade.” His eyes found mine and I saw in them that he, too, knew what my future held if my feet touched the ground.

  Undeterred, Cade yelled at him to ‘shut the fuck up’ and turned his glare back to me. “I said... come... down.” That time the words growled.

  “Maybe she wants us to go get her.” Alpha had stopped purging and come to join in the fun.

  “Oh... I don’t think she’d like that at all.” Cade picked up another branch and choked up on it like a batter getting ready to knock one out of the park.

  The tall one tried again, tugging on both their uniform collars. “Let’s just find our deserter and get back to the station. It’s getting late.”

  Something inside me cracked at the mention of the station. Although I’d known the man I had abandoned in the woods was part of the volunteer police force, I’d not let myself really think about them going back to where Howie was... after.

  Cade cursed at me, then handed his branch to the tall one who dropped it like it was on fire. “Fine, have it your way.” He bent and stuffed his pockets with something. Then he slung his arms over the lowest limb and climbed up much the same way I had.

  When perched on the lower limb, he surveyed the tree for a moment, then climbed around the other side and came back around right above my head. He loomed over me, a lecherous grin across his face, and reached into his pocket.

  Rocks pelted me, nonstop. I felt them smash into my head, neck, and my hands still gripping the tree. Then he took aim directly at my face. I tried to shield it, turning and tucking my head into my shoulders like a bird taking a nap.

  “Yeah!” Alpha whooped from below, drawing ever closer. His shoes scraped the bark as he, too, climbed up after me.

  “Come on guys.” The taller one hadn’t budged. If anything, he sounded farther away, ready to flee. Cracks in his voice indicated that he desperately wanted to do just that.

  Another rock slammed into my back, right in the weak part of my shoulder blade. The blow sent electricity up my arm causing it to jerk. I overcorrected, flailing for a second, trying to recover my hold on the life-saving tree. I slid hard down the trunk until my butt thudded to the branch below me. My cheek scraped all the way down, catching fire. I was sure that if I stuck my tongue to it, it would poke out the other side.

  As much as it hurt, and it hurt like hell, I was relieved. Maybe the sight of my grotesque disfiguration would send them packing. That, and when they finally got a good look at me and realized I still had the figure of a twelve-year-old boy.

  I was not to be so lucky.

  Cade slid off his branch, his snake tongue flicking at the air around my cheek. He inhaled deeply, sucking the iron from my blood into his nostrils. Fresh excitement lit up his words as he ran a finger down the side of my face. “See what happens to little birds who don’t obey.”

  My eyes narrowed and my good leg caught him in the stomach. The rest of the air whoofed out of him as he stumbled backward. He flipped head over feet and toppled over, shoulder catching on the lowest branch. That sent him into another flip in the opposite direction. His other arm shot out and hooked around the branch in time to keep his head from crashing to the ground below. He swayed there for a moment, eyes wide in shock that mirrored my own, before gently releasing his grip and dropping to the ground. Feet first.

  Alpha clapped once and hollered congratulations to his friend, then reached down and wound his hand through my hair. With a fistful of my hair he crawled to my limb and shoved his bile breath in my face. “No more games, bird!”

  I refused to give him the satisfaction of flinching or meeting his gaze. Instead, out of the corner of my eye, I searched for the tall one. He stood in the same spot. Not making a move to help Cade, nor me. He studied his shoes, instead. They were black and red, just like the other volunteer cop’s.

  “I know where your deserter is!” I blurted out.

  Alpha smiled. “Our little birdie’s gonna sing.” He snatched my head around, pointing me toward Cade, who I then saw was gathering more rocks. My hand moved to my pocket, felt the familiar comfort of the two stones, then away. It wasn’t worth it.

  “If you let me go...” I whispered. My throat was too dry for words.

  “Why would I do that?” A
lpha’s lips curled up higher at the edges. “He’s been out there for three days already. Probably not much left to find.” He kissed me, hard. His breath stung. “You, on the other hand.” His other hand found the small rounded flesh I’d tried to hide under my flannel. “You’ll do just fine.”

  “Stop hoggin’ ‘er.” Cade yelled from the ground below.

  “Catch!” Alpha hadn’t even gotten the word out before he shoved me out of the tree.

  Cade stepped aside and let me fall hard at his feet. The air flew from my lungs. I writhed for an eternity, pleading with my breath to come back to me.

  “Get up,” Cade pushed me with his foot, turning me over on my side. I didn’t move. That time, however, it wasn’t out of defiance.

  Alpha landed on his feet beside me. “You heard him!” He demanded, punctuating with a quick kick to the back of my head. Still, I didn’t move.

  They both grabbed me by an arm and hauled me up to my feet. I crumpled back to the ground as soon as they let go. A sharp pain in my right foot accompanied my fishlike gasps. Oxygen finally graced my lungs with a squeaking gulp, which tasted like the decayed leaves my face was buried in.

  Cade tisked his tongue against his teeth. “I think you broke her.”

  “Aww she’s fine. At least now she can’t run away.” Alpha’s glee danced through each syllable. “Come on, Jawa, give us a hand.”

  We all waited a moment, me gasping for precious air, Alpha and Cade finding a good grip on my clothes. The third pair of paws never came.

  The two lone wolves dragged me face first along the earth, muttering ‘pussy’ at the tall one. They leaned me half against the tree I’d tried to climb in my escape. One set of hands tore at my shirt while another snatched my utility belt free. My eyes had caked with dirt so I could no longer tell which hands did what.

  “Wait!” The tall one cried out. He sounded so far away. But still I thanked Stone.

  Leaves rustled.