Strange Medicine

by Jim Stein

At the top of the rise, the view opened on a wide expanse of fields like nothing I’d seen before. The land was strewn with boulders, looking like something out of an old Mars probe documentary, but the silent rocks flashed a thousand colors under the cobalt-blue skies. Mineral deposits sparkled and jutted from every surface, reflecting the morning sun. Rainbow flashes assaulted us as the other ATVs rolled up with a collective gasp.

  Though impressive, it wasn’t the jeweled plateau that had everyone yammering at once. A city skyline rose on the horizon beyond the rocks. Even from a distance, the jagged buildings and broken windows spoke of massive neglect, and the old wire suspension bridge rising off to their right looked all too familiar.

  “That’s the Ben Franklin Bridge,” Pete said. “I can tell by those stone towers.”

  “What’s it mean?” Quinn asked.

  I had a sinking feeling it meant our world was disappearing into the third world. All of old Philadelphia didn’t stretch out before us. The skyline broke off about halfway across the horizon, giving way to another field of shining boulders.

  “It means nothing. Pieces of your world come and go.” Muuyaw dismissed Quinn’s concern, then looked to me. “Which way, human?”

  “Nothing? That’s my home town!”

  Well, technically it was an abandoned section of Old Philadelphia, but people were missing in New Philly too. I hoped everything would go back to normal if I destroyed the shield, but what if they didn’t—or what if burning the shield turned out to be a bad idea? If sections of home came through, we might be able to rescue the people.

  If I’d learned anything during the wild ride that had become my life, it was Koko didn’t always have the answers—or if he did, he wasn’t necessarily going to share them. I believed the shield was the crux of our problem, but the old trickster usually held back key bits of information. Coming to understand the plight of the Ant People had me churning on how best to proceed once we reached our objective.

  “That way.” I tapped Quinn on the shoulder and pointed to the low line of factory buildings squatting to the left of the bridge. “The city will be a maze and difficult to get through, but there’s always a chance we’ll find supplies, maybe medicine.”

  “We must be quick,” Dawa said. “The joining of the worlds draws close.”

  Weaving through the rainbow rocks was a surreal trip. Insects darted among the boulders, rising in glittering clouds that winked out as fast as they got airborne. The ground in the Ants’ domain had been a sandy mix, but here our tires ground through rich loam full of decaying leaves.

  “Where are the trees?” I asked.

  Talking was easier now that the vehicles could ride abreast, but the jerking movement of the flea-steeds had the Ants alternatively surging ahead and dropping behind.

  “Not leaves.” Pete scooped up a wad of debris that kicked up onto his floorboard and split his attention between driving and studying the clump. “These are wings. Some sort of insect swarm died off and—oh crap!”

  He flung the dirt away and stared straight ahead with jaw set. The color drained from his face—quite a feat in the swirling disco lights.

  “What?” I’d never seen Pete creeped out by bugs.

  I leaned down and managed to scoop up a handful of rotting debris. What I’d assumed to be leaves were rounded and colorful. Most crumbled at my touch, but one tattered yellow-red remnant felt silky as a butterfly wing. It snagged in the dirt, connected to a clod the size of my pinky—no, skinny limbs dangled from the dirt. Though filthy, the tiny humanoid shape had two arms, two legs, and a crushed head.

  I gagged and looked away. Throwing the small creature back onto the ground felt disrespectful. But the path ahead shimmered like autumn after peak leaf-season, and my stomach lurched.

  “There’re thousands of them. What the hell happened?” I looked to the Ant leaders.

  “Nashers,” Muuyaw supplied. “Nasty creatures of little consequence.”

  “If something like this doesn’t matter to you, what the hell does, you cold-hearted—”

  “Ed, take it easy.” Quinn reached back and squeezed my left knee, but she hadn’t seen.

  “They are not sentient,” Dawa said as the cart surged past. “Much of the flora and fauna have died off. The nashers are a nuisance. They swarm at night to eat crops and unattended animals. Any disturbance to the natural order is a bad omen”—he gave his twin a withering look—“and injures the balance of the land. This particular plague is not missed, but neither are they gone.” He pointed at a shining blue outcropping on our right as a cloud of bugs rose and vanished. “Nasher nymphs survive. They will be full grown in short order, but thankfully we won’t have to contend with them.”

  He fell silent, apparently remembering the whole invade-the-Earth plan was sort of a sore spot with me. Thankfully the piles of dead nashers didn’t extend far. We rolled out of the littered remains onto soft soil that would make good farm land if the rocks were cleared. Heck, I’d flattened the mother of all boulders back on the Easton’s farm. Of course I’d used magic—Earth magic.

  Even back then, the shield must have been redirecting spells to attack the world veil. That was probably the reason Ralph ended up out on the farm. But there were other ways to clear boulders. If the flea-bags could haul three people, they could certainly drag rocks to the edge of a field.

  “Why not farming up here?” I asked Dawa.

  “The painted plains are beyond our domain,” he said with a shrug. “Use no more than necessary; take no more than you need. It is part of the path of balance we walk.”

  “Yet you plan to leave. That’ll upset things more than cultivating new ground.”

  “Our gods have seen there is no other way and set the path before us.”

  Dawa spoke with quiet reverence, yet his words didn’t ring sincere—as if he struggled internally to see the wisdom of abandoning their world. Muuyaw ignored our exchange, preferring to lash the fleas to an even choppier pace. Larmoth, their silent attending advisor, hugged the rail along the back of the cart as if trying not to throw up.

  “Still, it’s awfully pretty up here.” Hopefully I’d planted a seed that would get Dawa thinking of alternatives to invading Earth.

  We eventually made the ruins. They had looked to be closer, but that was an illusion of scale compounded by the flashing colors reflecting across the plains. Even now as our tires crunched onto broken blacktop, the rusting two-story building shimmered and swayed behind the curtain of heat rising off the pavement.

  “Head for the shipping nexus,” Pete called as he turned toward a line of raised loading docks. “These old warehouses will have foreman maps for directing drivers. Without that it’ll take days to look through the place.”

  “I feel nauseous, and Ralph looks like crap,” Quinn said as she turned to follow.

  Our imp hugged the tank tight. Instead of leaning into the wind like some fantasy masthead, he pressed his cheek to the cool metal as drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth. Now that she mentioned it, my stomach was halfway between hungry cramps—which made sense given breakfast had been a fleeting affair—and that sick feeling of dropping in free-fall.

  “Oh yuck!” Quinn jerked back, and her head cracked against my forehead.

  Ralph gagged like a cat hacking up a fur-ball. Bits of wetness splashed my hand. He retched again and spewed sticky brown chunks across the tank.

  “Those honey treats weren’t such a good idea.” I bit off a laugh because my stomach churned dangerously at the sight of the half-digested food.

  “Watch it!” Manny’s yell had me twisting around in time to see him veer off to avoid an impressive stream of vomit from Larmoth. Just when Dawa’s aide looked to be done, he doubled over again.

  “Flea steeds are a bad idea too. If we ever—” I grabbed on for dear life as the ATV swung left.

  Pete stopped short, forcing Quinn to swerve again. He and Vance stumbled off, and both doubled over in syncopated sickness. The air turned stifli
ngly hot, and my head spun. Quinn stopped, but the world didn’t. Breakfast clawed its way up, and acid burned my throat. The damned heat shimmers were everywhere. I squinted at the building, trying to anchor my reeling senses as the ground lurched.

  A rug pulled out from under me. I tumbled along its length, managed to swing a leg off without hurling, and dropped to my knees on pavement. But the hard surface fuzzed, turning to loamy dirt. Another massive wave of nausea swept over me, the world lurched again, and all went still.

  “What just happened?” Quinn was on hands and knees, spitting into the dirt.

  Rainbows flashed off the rocks strewn across the open plain. With the engines off, all was quiet except snuffling clicks from the pair of fleas. I scanned the landscape. Grass sprouted in isolated clumps, slowly replacing the boulders stretching out along our path under oddly crimson clouds. Distant hills rose in a dark shadow where sky met ground.

  “The buildings are gone.” Pete wiped a sleeve across his mouth. “Did anyone else feel like they wanted to die?”

  “You all spewed,” Quinn said.

  “Oh, and you’re kneeling in the dirt for the fun of it?” I barked out a laugh at her scowl, relieved to find my stomach no longer rebelled. The others looked better too, even Larmoth. “So much for hunting up supplies.” I turned to Dawa. “I don’t suppose your people have ever brought anything out of a section of our world that’s bled through.”

  “We don’t enter them, but some of the other races are less discrete. They’ve pilfered mostly useless items, which they do not actually need. There’s a gluttony loose in our realm. Why the gods would want to—” He bit off the sentence and narrowed his eyes. “You are entirely too easy to talk to, human.”

  “Please.” I rolled my eyes in my best imitation of Piper when I ordered pizza at a fancy restaurant. “My name’s Ed. Leave the whole unworthy human bit for your brother. He’s better at it. So, the good news is that items we take out won’t disappear.”

  “And we didn’t get sucked off to wherever that little slice of abandoned heaven went when it phased out.” Quinn patted herself down as if checking to ensure everything was still attached.

  “An oasis pulls at its surroundings when it leaves, which accounts for the sudden illness.” Muuyaw joining the discussion surprised me. “But nothing living departs with them. Even animals that wander into such areas get left behind when they move on.”

  So sneaky, evil twin had done a bit more exploring than his brother. The way he emphasized the word living conjured up disturbing images. I wouldn’t put conducting a few unsavory experiments past the guy.

  There wasn’t much we could do about the missed opportunity, except continue to follow the staff. Trekking through the tall grass should have been simplicity itself on the four-wheelers, but deep ruts hid in the growth. The slow pace gave me time to reflect as we approached the brown hills. If a section of Earth couldn’t pull people out of the third world, what happened if inhabitants of my world strayed out of such an area? Would they remain in the third world or be pulled away when their respective chunk of home moved on?

  Home sounded good. Our two days on this side of the vortex had been wearying. Once this business was complete, there was a couch with my name on it—assuming the desert gave my house back. And there was a big round dog bed for Max.

  Max hadn’t shown his face since our jailbreak, but I could feel him out there watching. Normally, I wouldn’t have been so sure, but something about this place had my senses on high alert. I sensed my loyal companion pacing along to our left—that and an odd vibration under the wide rutted depression we traveled. Ralph hissed and drew his dagger. Something rose beneath us.

  “Get to high ground!” I slapped Quinn’s shoulder and pointed to the steep bank.

  She gunned us on an arrow path for the lip of the depression. I waved frantically for the others, and after a moment’s hesitation they raced to follow. The Ant cart lagged behind. As the three ATVs drove up onto higher ground, the pony-sized fleas struggled in the soft soil. One hopped in place, while the other strained against its harness. That was when the lower half of the struggling animal tore off with a terrible ripping and spray of blood.

  Hooked black tentacles snaked up from beneath to encircle the dying insect. Another set erupted alongside to grab the gory upper half that still had the feebly kicking front legs attached. The uninjured flea jerked and struggled until its harness snapped. It shot off using huge leaps to put distance between itself and the attack.

  “Get up here while they’re busy,” I called to the three Ants.

  “Busy butchering that poor bug,” Pete said.

  The crowned heads of two monsters swimming below the surface crested through the mud and grass. Flashing jaws joined the tentacles and ripped off hunks of meat. Muuyaw pushed Larmoth ahead of him as the three jumped off the cart. I thought it a rather magnanimous gesture until I realized he was using the timid advisor to ensure it was safe to venture on. The monsters fought each other for the last scraps.

  Pete helped me hoist Larmoth over the edge, followed by the twins. We retreated to a safe distance and watched the half-seen monsters polish off the unfortunate flea. Those barbed tentacles swept over the cart wheels next, as if tasting each surface to ensure they hadn’t missed anything good. Soon enough, the appendages withdrew and the creatures moved off along the rutted tract.

  We stared down into the hunting ground for a good five minutes. I no longer sensed the hungry presence, but that didn’t mean I was ready to go down there.

  “We do not have enough seats for everyone to ride.” Manny broke the silence.

  “Simple math,” I said, but none of us made a move.

  “So…if we hit another patch of ground like that, we go around, right?” Vance’s question had us all nodding, but we were really just stalling.

  “The ground-dragons hunt quickly this time of year so their young do not go unattended.” Muuyaw waved at the carnage below, inviting someone else to go first.

  It took a long time and much arguing to jury-rig the cart with a tow mechanism that kept it from crashing into our ATV every time we slowed. Of course, Quinn and I got volunteered to do the towing because Manny wanted nothing to do with the Ants and Pete’s ride didn’t have enough torque to handle the extra weight.

  Still, my buddy’s farm-boy ingenuity came to the rescue. He cobbled together a length of tire irons to make a rigid connection from our hitch hook to the cart. The bulk of the pulling power came through the tow straps, but the bars helped stabilize and slow the cart when Quinn let off the gas. Applying the brakes at the end of a short test run was a whole new experience. The extra momentum drove us forward like a snow plow until the tires dug in deep. Sudden stops were out of the question.

  By the time we got moving and had the mechanics of braking worked out, the sun was already making a beeline for the horizon. The rolling plains didn’t offer much cover, so we chose to follow the staff and drive on. Navigating was simplicity itself. Except for circumventing the occasional gully and one other ground dragon hunting strip, I simply pointed Quinn in the right direction.

  “If push comes to shove, you’re still going to have to destroy the shield. They aren’t going to like that.” Quinn kept her voice low.

  “I thought maybe we could ditch them along the way.”

  “That’s going to be a little difficult at this point.” Quinn glanced back at our tow vehicle.

  Dawa and Muuyaw argued, while Larmoth split his time between playing middle man, scribbling notes, and trying not to get bounced off his feet. I imagined loosening the tow-bar at our next stop and hauling ass to get away from the pair. But I doubted we’d outrun their magic, plus we needed their cooperation.

  “Help me get them to see reason. Dawa clearly doesn’t want his people to leave. If Muuyaw sees it’s in their best interest to stay, we’ll have a fighting chance to stop this mess.”

  “The fact they’ll be walking into desert on our side of the vortex
doesn’t faze them. They have too much faith in their gods making everything right once they cross.” She patted Ralph’s head then shook her own. “I can’t see it. A more likely scenario is both worlds turn into wastelands and we’re all screwed.”

  “There has to be a way to fix whatever’s killing this world so they won’t have to leave. Something must have changed recently.”

  We rode in silence for a time, while Ralph lounged between the handlebars and managed to nap without falling off. The impressive feat reminded me of Dwain’s talent for sleeping in unusual places. Sure enough, I looked over at Pete and saw the sprite slumped against his back, snoring away.

  I envied them. Last night had been a restless disaster as I worried about where Max had gone and whether we were doing the right thing bringing the Ant leaders along. Of course, we hadn’t had much choice about the latter. If we only had to deal with Dawa things would be different, but Muuyaw was a hard sell.

  The light faded as we rode along the edge of a long, narrow lake. This was still, deep water rather than the frenzied whitecap-filled great lakes we’d visited on tour. The air smelled of algae and moisture, and the temperature dropped to the point I dug out a light jacket.

  Up ahead, the water spilled out into a stream that ran under a stone bridge off to our right. A massive dingy-gray spillway held the water down to a trickle. Rather than heading for the bridge, we detoured for a closer look because something about the structure’s oddly rounded walls didn’t look right. Fifty yards away, something definitely didn’t smell right.

  “That’s wretched.” Quinn pulled her shirt up over her nose.

  A pungent dead-fish odor combined with ammonia and a few other chemicals covered up the natural waterfront aroma. The wall stood maybe twenty feet high and looked to be made of a single bulging gray stone. The surface was mottled with shades running from whitish to nearly black. The structure tapered toward each end and curved back into the lake proper.

  “Weirdest dam I’ve ever seen,” Pete said as we dismounted and walked to the shallow stream that ran out from around the wall.