by Jim Stein
On the way home from the band’s tour we’d heard about the unidentified spikey weeds overtaking their soybean field. But after we lost radio contact, sand had bubbled up and swept the fields under in a matter of days.
“We’ll find our folks on the north side.” I hope.
No reason my parents shouldn’t be there, Dad still slaving away at the Census Bureau and Mom at the hospital. Both organizations would be desperate to figure out what was going on. I was less confident about Pete’s family. Not just his Mom and Dad, but his sister Melissa and a boatload of cousins worked the farm and had been cut off by the swift encroachment of desert. Pete had been house sitting for me when the desert cut New Philly in half. But the rest of the Eastons were at ground zero.
“Hope so.” He ripped a handful of green spikes from the fountain’s stone wall and hurled them into the lawn. After I left on our road trip, he managed to keep ahead of the pervasive weeds—the same weeds that had overrun the Easton farm and cropped up just ahead of the drifting sands all over town.
“Wonder why don’t we get sand here? It’s sort of where it all started.”
Pete had helped fix my decrepit fountain—a testament to the upper middle class who built the place. He got the plumbing working, and I’d used it as a training ground for practicing magic—everything from sweeping out the debris with Spirit to reflowing the cracked base with Earth magic. At first I thought the weeds cropping up were evidence of seeds left behind by some long-gone greenhouse, but the tenacious plants kept coming back.
“Your scorched earth policy might have helped.” Pete shook his head. “But we tried that out at the farm too. Can you believe we deliberately set more fires? These things barely burn and if they do the smoke chokes like tear-gas. Probably toxic.”
“Yeah, took quite a bit of power to wipe ‘em out here, and the Fire element usually eats anything. I’ve seen rocks ignite easier than this stuff!”
I tugged a long fat leaf out from under the slate capping the wall. The pale green spike was thick and heavy like yucca or aloe—definitely a succulent. The high water content would make it naturally fire resistant, but not to the degree I’d seen.
I hurled the plant onto Pete’s pile as Ralph tore out the last small shoot on our side. Rather than throw it, he bit the pointy tip off and chewed with his mouth open so we could enjoy watching the plant get pulped into slimy purple gel. With a shrug, Ralph tossed the rest of his leaf on our little pile. The imp would sample almost anything, but always came back to the base of his personal food pyramid, sugar. The purple sap might be sweet, but not imp-sweet.
“If Deputy Vance saw imps out there”—Pete jerked his head in the general direction of our little strip of Sahara—“then Ralph should know what’s going on.”
“Pina hasn’t been able to get anything useful from him. Koko and Pina say he’s from the ‘Old World,’ whatever that means.”
“Ralph, what’s with the desert, the sand?” Pete mimed what looked like a butterfly getting flattened on hot pavement.
Our imp studied my friend’s flying hands, pulled a strip of red licorice from his hidden stash, and chewed on the near-extinct candy. Pete finished and leaned forward as Ralph lowered his licorice and pretended to pick something up from the lip of the fountain. Fangs poked out as the imp’s face drew into a ghastly smile. In one smooth motion, he heaved his arm back and flung it forward. Nothing left his hand, but a mighty splash erupted just in front of Pete, drenching him thoroughly. Ralph didn’t generally make sounds, but his stuttering hiss sounded suspiciously like laughter.
“Crap, that’s cold,” Pete managed through a shocked gasp.
Night fell fast along the border of our mock desert. I hustled Pete inside to change before the icy wind sapped away his body heat.
There wasn’t much left to do. The cars were already crammed full. Since we weren’t taking furniture or appliances, packing for the trip pretty much just came down to clothes, Piper’s research, and the few spell components I kept in the basement lab. Of course I had my box of music, both salvaged records and mixes I’d remastered. Meg made room under one of the buses for the equipment needed to set up a temporary station and for my personal gear.
I scoured the house looking for Pina, but the sprite had gone off again. She had to know more than she let on. But I couldn’t press her for information about the desert and Ralph if I couldn’t find her. We stayed up late double checking our list, closing up the house, and—much to my sister’s and Quinn’s chagrin—playing video games.
When the house grew quiet, I laid in bed staring at the shadows playing across the ceiling. The thought of leaving my house—my home—kept sleep at bay. We’d sealed the windows and doors as best we could, hoping to keep the sand out as it swallowed our town, but odds were I’d never return.
A half-moon lit the landscape, causing shadows to stretch and surge as branches outside twisted in the wind. The nights were clear and cold, but a solitary cloud floated across the moon, and my ceiling darkened. Music drifted in as my eyes grew heavy. A lonely flute echoed, twisting the gloom into half-suggested figures before smoothing into a gray void.
I fell through the gray to land on solid yet yielding ground. Shadows swirled, indistinct but somehow inviting. The flute grew nearer. I stood and shuffled off to the right. The cold damp sand under my bare feet made me thankful for the breechcloth and leathers I wore.
I walked toward a dim spark in the darkness. The sand grew warm. Unlike prior dreams, the cheery fire with its teepee of ever-lasting logs remained indistinct. A curtain hung over the scene, and it was hard to make out the shadowy forms to either side of the fire ring. The taller figure, a hunched old man dressed in buckskin, lowered the wooden flute he’d been playing. His final notes rolled off into the distance, a coyote yipped, and the fire flared brighter.
“It has been too long, Edan.” Kokopelli’s voice was muffled, and he sounded grumpy.
“No kidding. In case you haven’t noticed, we could use a little help.”
The small figure stepped up next to the old spirit. Pina slipped her hand into Koko’s, and his scowl eased. Relief and annoyance washed over me as I squinted at the silent pair. Usually, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Koko liked to use his dream visits to lecture and grill me for information.
Shadows from the fire danced across wooden boots and supple moccasins. The sand under their feet was whiter, purer than the yellow moonlit dune surrounding mine. Once, in a delusional fever, I’d glimpsed Koko’s realm and reached through the veil between worlds to enter his adobe halls. I saw those walls behind him now, shimmering and indistinct. I reached out, but couldn’t quite touch the barrier separating us.
“This stupid desert is pushing us out of town.” I swept my hand to either side, suddenly angry. “How about throwing some of your omnipotent attention our way?”
“I have.” The hint of Koko’s old smile raised the weathered corners of his mouth. Beady black eyes set above an impressive hook-of-a-nose sparkled momentarily before fatigue again creased the old man’s features.
“My lord holds back the desert. It’s taking all his power to—”
“Brightness is correct.” He cut off whatever more the sprite might say. “I do what I can. The veil between worlds thins. It should not be so. Something reaches out from the other side, pulling at Earth magic, using it to draw together realms that should never meet.”
“Earth magic? My magic?” That can’t be right. “You’re the one who showed me how to use the elements!”
“This force was…unforeseen.” His eyes went out of focus, making him look old and frail, a thought I sternly set aside. Sometimes it was hard to remember I spoke to a god, and I didn’t dare let my guard down. “The source of this disturbance cannot stay hidden forever.”
“To hell with forever! My town is about to be swallowed. We’ve got hundreds of people missing.”
“He’s trying!” Pina met my frustration with her own. “We’ll find whatever dark a
rtifact is at work here. Just don’t use any Earth spells in the meantime. Your other magic is fine, especially since you’ve refined your spells. Do what you need to do to keep your people safe.”
“You could have told me sooner.” How long had she been in on this, helping Koko and keeping me in the dark? Another thought struck me. “You’re not coming with us, are you?”
“He needs me here.” Pina looked as though she might cry, but simply pointed off to my left. “But I can send help.”
A male sprite stepped from the roiling mist. He was short—of course—and had the emerald green eyes of his people beneath a curly mop of dark hair and an infectious grin.
“Dwain?”
“Hey ya, Ed.”
Dwain was one of the good guys and a hell of a leader. He’d brought help when we were out of options and stayed to see our last conflict through. A tenacious fighter, he also cared about his troops. I’d seen him triage wounded and get them to safety during the heat of battle. The sprites were more formidable than any of us had expected. I looked out across the sand for other glowing green eyes.
“Just me.” Dwain gave me a crooked smile of apology.
“My people gather along our border,” Pina said. “The merging realms threaten more than just humans. If it can’t be stopped, no place will be safe.”
“Safe from what? What is this other realm?”
At a nod from Koko, Pina answered. Interesting how tight they seemed to be again. Pina had been complaining about her lord’s erratic behavior all summer. Either Koko had improved or she was trying to help him work through his problems. By the annoyed look on my father’s face as he waited for the sprite to explain, I gathered it was the latter.
“It’s the world before this one, the third age.” Pina spread her hands to encompass our surroundings. “It was a prosperous land, but its people lost respect for the cycles of the sun, moon, and nature. Many grew greedy and cruel, wanting ever more to fill the void in their souls only balance could repair. As corruption spread, the world…died, and people who followed the path of balance were chosen to move on to a new world, the fourth age. The thinning veil means the Old World is no longer sealed away.”
“The Old World?” I tasted the words, so similar to how Mr. Conti spoke of old Italy and how Pina herself had spoken once. “You told me Ralph came from the Old World. So this is his homeland coming through?” It made sense given Vance had seen other imps, but the slight hesitation in Pina’s story had me wondering. “What do you mean, the Old World died?”
“A great flood was sent—”
“Enough!” Koko pushed power into the word, cutting her off. He played a scattering of notes on his flute and the mists retreated, leaving Dwain and me on an island of sand in a sea of vapor. “The problem lies beyond the junction between worlds. You will have to journey there to stop it. Keep away from the sand until then.”
“Looks like we’re taking a road trip.” Dwain gave Pina a sideways glance.
“You both stay safe, while we find the source.” Pina’s outline wavered.
I looked to Dwain. He gave a shrug and strode off into the mist. The curtain between my island dune and the adobe room grew opaque, fuzzing into gray skies. I found myself alone, the scent of flowers heavy in air turned thick and cloying. An overwhelming urge to act swept over me, but there was nothing to do, nowhere to go.
I awoke stiff and confused. Early morning light flooded through my window. The current crisis had me used to getting up early, but there was something wrong with the red-tinged sunshine.
I scrambled out of bed and threw open the blinds. The fiery yellow ball looked normal as it peeked over the horizon. But the tree line surrounding my neighborhood was gone, replaced by rolling tan hills. I gawked as the desert spilled over the retaining wall separating my neighborhood from the surrounding forests.
“Quinn, Piper, Pete!” I jammed my right leg into my jeans and danced out into the hall on one foot. “Everyone up. We gotta go. Ralph, get Max—” I wasn’t thinking clearly. “Get to the cars!”
Piper and I laid on our horns as Pete and Quinn hung out the windows and encouraged the few remaining neighbors with paint-blistering curses. Three cars streamed out ahead of us as a wave of sand and giant insects slid past the empty houses at the back side of the development.
“Fun wake-up.” Pete wiped sweat off his forehead as he craned around in the passenger seat to watch my house get swallowed. “There goes the neighborhood, as they say. Hey, what’s with him?”
A high-pitched keen like a radio between stations rose from the back. Ralph had climbed into the cargo section, wedged himself on top of our luggage, and plastered his face against the back window.
In my side mirror, my shed floated into the front yard, swept along on the leading wave of sand. Small gray figures scurried over the structure. Two perched on top, riding it like a surfboard. Ralph’s wail rose half an octave, and my teeth ached.
“Other imps.” My heart went out for the little guy, but there was no way we were going back.
One of the monstrous centipedes slid down the sand over my driveway, spilled into the street, and swerved after us across a dusting of sand. I floored the accelerator as a handful of the imps sprinted after the monster.
“Yeah! Nothing beats good old American horsepower.” Pete’s grin was strained.
“Not sure where it was built, but I know what you mean. Poor Ralph.”
Our imp scrambled around to the side window as I turned, keeping watch as our pursuers dropped behind.
“He’ll be fine,” Pete said. “Look he’s already back to his candy.”
Ralph fingered a handful of colorful treats, though he stared out the window and didn’t actually eat any.
We weren’t the only refugees corralled by the desert tide. A dozen vehicles streamed down Delaware avenue. Pete and I pulled off at Main Line Studios, while the procession continued on to the evacuation site by the old bridge.
“Ed, I knew you’d make it.” Mr. Conti looked up from where he helped David load maps and office supplies into boxes. “Meg is double checking, but it looks like everyone’s accounted for. Manny’s team left early to bring in the last group.”
“They better not beat up my ATVs.” An older man in grimy blue coveralls popped up from behind the consoles where he was apparently loading his own box of gear. His gray hair stood out in wispy curls against dark skin, but I honestly couldn’t tell if he was black or Latino. “I’ve only got a couple spares and blazing few parts. That damned cop destroyed a fine machine.”
Vance picked that moment to stroll through the front doors, but didn’t seem offended. “Reggie, if you weren’t bitching I’d be worried. Tell me she’ll run a few more miles though.”
“Yeah.” The man grinned, caught himself, and spit. I winced, but the boss didn’t seem to mind. “A few more, but the differential and clutch are almost shot. Stop shifting so hard.”
“Meg said you might need a hand with labeling.” Vance hurried to help the man hoist his box to the table. “Ed, this is Reggie Boyd, mechanic extraordinaire. Retired from the precinct what, three years ago?”
“Five, rookie. You were barely through training. Good to be working again, but our lack of gear is no joke. Trailer’s almost bare—a few wheels, chains, and a scattering of maintenance items. They took four machines out this morning. No telling what shape they’ll return in—had to give the team a crash course. Not a damned one of them ever owned a manual transmission. What’s the world comin’ to? I plan to raid the first city we pass, but the kind of parts we need don’t age well.”
“Sure glad you had enough for this job.” I nodded a greeting, turned back to Mr. Conti, and told him how my street had just been overrun.
“Red Team will be in trouble if they aren’t back soon.” Mr. Conti glared at the one map he had yet to pack. “They’re in real danger of being cut off. With our scouts pulled in, all we can do is keep the convoy on hot standby and our fingers crossed.”
“L
AY DOWN cover fire for those kids!” Manny squinted into the driving sand and cursed himself for a fool.
He should have sensed trouble sooner. His time with the humans made him soft. They’d roared down the narrow strip of ground, weaving between houses. Avoiding the sand had been simplicity itself—on the way in. Now, they had a dozen people to corral, and the ground grew loose with sand welling up right beneath them. The lumbering tick rose with the desert to block the path. A pair of four-wheelers roared around it taking pot shots, but the giant bug just soaked up their bullets.
They didn’t dare go around. If they strayed into the deeper sands on either side they’d end up lost and wandering—easily picked off by the other creatures trying to flank his team. Though misshapen and fast, the fat-bodied beetles coming at them from the left responded well to conventional weapons. Another striped abdomen exploded in a spray of ichor as the woman wielding an ancient lever-action rifle let loose. Shotgun blasts from Rick, a tall lean black man on the last ATV, were just as effective, but they needed a way out.
His charges weren’t infirm, but one old couple could only manage a fast amble. The man gripped his walking stick like a club and wasn’t above taking a swing at anything that got too close. Then there were the kids, two honest to goodness toddlers. They reminded Manny of sprites or dwarves, small but nowhere near as formidable.
The girl was a tiny blond thing with a heart-shaped face that oozed feigned innocence—a quality Manny easily picked out. The dark-haired boy didn’t bother to hide his demonic nature. The glint in his wide-set brown eyes spoke of a world of mischief. Yet both children heeded their parents and kept close to the middle-aged couple huddling at the center of the rapidly vanishing strip of clear ground.