The Mountain and The City: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale

by Martinez, Brian

  “Just what were you thinking, pendejo? Why would you bring that in here?”

  His hair is long and dark, his skin the kind that likes Sun and shows it, not like Munie skin which cooks all Day but only keeps pink to let them stay and stay in it. I don't blame them, though; the Sun is warm and strong and bright and must feel good on the Face.

  “I was thinking, wouldn't it be great not to be found guilty of murder?”

  “By killing us all. Bringing her in here puts every one of us in danger, or didn't that cross your mind?”

  “One, she's wearing a mask. Two, she's only a little infected.”

  “A little? Did you just say a little infected? You're either infected or you ain't, puto. This one hasn't changed all the way but it's still a carrier for the freakin' virus.”

  Neil keeps arguing with the big man behind the glass. I step away from them and find lockers against the wall, all closed and locked, with a chair pushed into the corner. Across from the second Door is a third, but this one is regular size. Above it is a dead Vision Box, and next to that something long that looks like a Gun.

  The big man says, “Is this about Abby? I mean, we all liked her and everything but that's no reason to pull this.”

  “Don't dare bring her up.” Neil's voice is lower, like a growl. “I have no problem with you, Cruz, but if you say her name again that might change.”

  I try to reach the thing over my Head. Big man says, “That's a flame-thrower, monster girl, and I got the switch for it right here. I can barbeque your ass with one flick of my finger.” He wiggles his finger like a Dirt Beast. “You better believe if I get the go-ahead, I'll be serving up monster chorizo in thirty seconds. Delicioso.” Pictures are drawn on his arms in red and blue and orange, as if his skin is paper.

  “Barbeque?”

  He turns to Neil and says, “Way to go, you brought a hungry monster into the base.”

  “If you were in my shoes you'd do the same thing.”

  “Never happen, cuz monsters never made it over the fence on my watch, hear me, and if they did I'd have enough brains to deal with it. Your problem is you lost your nerve when-”

  “Cruz.” A deep voice comes from above my Head. I back away from the Vision Box and find it filled with the face of another Real Person, this one with dark, dark skin and calm eyes. The two men stand straight at the sound.

  “I'm here.”

  “Is our visitor behaving?”

  Cruz frowns at me. “Right now it is, but I don't like this, Graham. ”

  “You're sure Tom's dead?”

  Neil steps forward. “Pretty sure. She made an awful mess of him.”

  His eyes go serious to Neil. “Tell me, if you were lying on the ground bleeding, wouldn't you hope someone took the time to check your vitals before saying they were 'pretty sure' you were dead?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “Then why didn't you extend the same courtesy to Tom?”

  “I panicked. If you'd seen what I saw...” He looks over at me; his eyes have pictures in them.

  “We've all watched a man die, we know exactly what it looks like. You put the whole group in danger when you brought her in here, that alone could get you executed.”

  “It was a risk I had to take.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I'd be lying if I said I put anyone's life here above my own.”

  Cruz looks angry at this. Graham's face is silent for some seconds, then it smiles in a way I feel inside, like a black spot in my Stomach.

  “I appreciate your honesty. Cuff it and put it in holding, there's something I have to take care of first.”

  Cruz shouts, “Graham!”

  “Yes, Cruz? Did you have something to say?”

  Cruz faces away from the Vision Screen. Graham's eyes find me before his face disappears and the Screen goes dark.

  I don't like his eyes.

  **

  After Neil points the Gun at me and ties my Hands behind my Back with metal rings, Cruz pushes a button on his desk that opens the third Door. Struggling with the rings and the way they feel against my Wrists, I step through and learn how big this place inside the Mountain is. This Base.

  The hallway is long, wide, made of metal and full of Doors, regular Doors for Regular People. It goes for at least ten of them before it breaks into two hallways made of more metal, full of more doors, all open and all real. Everywhere are signs of Real People. Words on the walls, bits of garbage, and most of all the smell.

  “C'mon. Get in.”

  Neil puts his cold hand on my Arm and pushes me into the Room to my left. I notice him wipe his hand on his pants when he takes it away.

  The only thing in the Room is a small, white bed with no pillows, so I sit on it. There's also a sink and a toilet, but I don't look at them because they're for Water.

  “It's cold,” I say.

  “Not for me it isn't.” His mouth looks sad when it makes the words.

  “What do I do now?”

  “You wait for Graham. Just be quiet and you'll be fine.”

  He stops himself, as if he wants to take what he said back but knows he can't. Instead he leaves and shuts the Door behind him and locks it and walks away.

  The ceiling is low, and I can hear myself breathing in its corners. Ten years passed for me like this, alone in the silence, alone in a Room, but it doesn't feel right anymore. These past Days have been filled up with voices and sounds, with moving from one place to another, with talking and seeing things. Now that the quiet has caught up with me, and I sit between walls again, I can feel the way it whispers to me.

  From the whisper a picture comes to me of my father. A day he punished me, sent me to my Room. It's been years since I thought of the Day I coiled in bed and watched the pillow change color. The sound in the House changed, too, when my mother came home, and it never changed back. The same way my mother tried to clean the pillowcase but threw it out.

  “I see you're getting comfortable.”

  The dark man named Graham stands where the Door was. Without realizing it, I've pulled all the covers out from the mattress and bunched them around me, curled up inside them.

  “The name's Graham, but I'm sure you know that. What you may not know is I run this place. I enforce the rules, of which there aren't many, but you broke the first.”

  It's hard to sit up with my Hands behind me, and just as my Feet touch the ground he pushes me over and twists my Wrists up toward my Head. I kick my Feet and scream at him until he lets go and backs away to the Door.

  “Just looking. Your nails are coming in, I see.” He crosses his arms. “We had a few scientists in our group who studied the virus. They learned a few things, one is it needs sunlight, which is why those things rarely come out at night. And two, it's surprisingly weak against plain, old water.”

  The Water between the Doors. They use it to kill the Bastard Air.

  “That's why you don't like water anymore. The virus is changing you into a perfect carrier, nothing more than a brainless home. Soon you'll avoid water, stay in the sunlight, eat all the time to give it energy. In its first stage the virus is so weak, it can be fought off by putting the patient in water and total darkness. Imagine if we'd known that in the early days.”

  I think of the rushing Water in the Mountain. If I'd just put the Mask back on, I could have stopped the Change.

  “I know what you're thinking but you're already in stage two. I've seen it enough times to know. And the tricky thing about stage two and after? If the virus dies, you die. By stage three, well, it's too strong to be killed at all, only weakened. That's probably why your friend out there hasn't torn your head off. It's weak. And you, I bet you've been keeping out of the sun, right? That's instinct. Self-preservation. After a while the virus kills that, too. Amazing, isn't it?”

  “You haven't felt it.”

  “So you do speak. You're right, I haven't experienced the virus myself, but I do know what it's capable of. And what you're capable
of.” His voice goes lower. “They brought Tom's body in. I was curious how you stayed alive so long, but I think I'm starting to understand. It doesn't explain where you were all that time, though.”

  You can tell him. You can't ever go back to it.

  “The Trailer kept me safe. The Trailer and the Silvery Tape.”

  “The what?”

  I look to the Door and make a square with my Eyes to surround it, pretending to put Silvery Tape on it.

  He nods. “Hard to believe anyone could live long like that. The tape wasn't necessary, though, the virus isn't in the air. It's exhaled, spread through droplets like the common cold. It can't survive long without a body to protect it. But I suppose tape helps if a monster comes poking around.”

  “One did.”

  “So what went wrong?”

  “I poked back.”

  A smile. “I wish I could let you go, but there are a few problems with that. Now that you've been here you might try to keep coming back after you change. Also you killed one of our people. You may not understand this, but communities live and die by the rules they put in place. The one we have here is very simple: if someone commits a crime, I kill them. And if I fail to kill that person, the people kill me. It may sound harsh but it works. It keeps us honest, and keeps me working.”

  “Then you live in danger of the Death every Day.”

  “We all do, at least I can control this danger. The people only kill me if I fail them. As you can see, I haven't failed yet.”

  A knock comes from the Door. A Real Person with shaky feet and the smell of spit on his fingernails whispers to Graham while staring at me with fast eyes. The two of them try not to let me hear.

  “We, um, we can't catch the other one, but we're pretty sure she's still out there.”

  “It's an it, not a she. Tell me why you think that.”

  “Well...because we hear it.”

  “And it can't be one of the thousand other monsters running around?”

  “No, no, I don't think so. It's still dark out there, which they don't like and, um, it sounds, you know...small.”

  Graham puts his hand around the man's neck and pulls their faces together, talking into the man's ear. “We need to catch that fucking thing no matter what, you do understand that. It can lead others here and ruin everything we've built.”

  “Of, of course. But it's too fast, Graham, too fast!”

  “If you put the rest of us in danger with your incompetence-”

  “I won't! I mean I didn't!”

  “Then why haven't you caught it yet?”

  “Because it's a young one, y'know? They have sharp senses at that age, very sharp senses! Have you ever caught a young one? Cuz I haven't, and I don't know anyone who has. Please, Graham. Please.”

  Graham lets go of the man whose nose shakes with the shine of Water.

  “Young?”

  “Yeah, real young. From what Neil says it's just a kid one.”

  Graham's eyes become smaller and filled with pictures. Something about Child's age has him curious, and I'm not sure why, and I don't want to know why, but I know I can use it.

  “I can help you.” They turn to me, surprised. “I can help you catch her.”

  Graham comes over to the bed and hangs his face in mine.

  “Don't try to trick me. I know you care about this other one or you wouldn't have done what you did to Tom.”

  “I was protecting her before, but now I'm protecting me. I care more about me than I care about her.”

  That's what life is for Real People. Giving them what their ears want.

  He looks at the other man. Then at me. “There's something I'd like to show you. After that, tell me if you still feel like helping.”

  **

  Down the long hallway, Graham's hand on my Arm, a hot wave spreads over me. My Eyes boil like cans on the Trailer stove as we walk past door after door, some of them quiet, some with sound in them like the Voice of the Outside when it speaks into a Cavern then turns around and speaks out. After three doors I understand it's Real People behind them, listening to us pass. I've never heard breathing this loud, but I know it's not the breathing that's changed.

  Every foot sound means we're deeper inside the Mountain. The feel of it rings inside my Head as Graham tells me things he doesn't have to about what we see. He calls the door that's loud with sweat and echoes The Gymnasium. The one that smells like Supplies, The Cafeteria.

  “The base came with ten years worth of food,” he says, “twenty of ammo.”

  It's hard to listen with my Stomach angry. I've seen Beasts caught in the cages left over from the Real Times that move like it moves now in my Body, small and hard with the fear. I don't know what any of what Graham says means, but I know when we cross a hallway, and I look all the way down and see how many doors are there, it smells like Real People. A lot of them.

  I hear them, too.

  “Someone has to stop him. He's finally gone completely out of his head.”

  “Terence never would've let this happen.”

  “We'll all be, you understand me, we'll all be killed!”

  At the end of the hallway is a serious door where he slides something thin and plastic from his pocket that makes the door light up and disappear into the wall. Then we step into the room and see it born around us. First machine desks show, buttons and Vision Screens blinking in rows to the far wall. Then the birth continues up the walls with big screens that curve all around but only show white pictures, like bad winter Sky.

  “What is this,” I ask a machine desk.

  “Human failure.”

  I turn to see this new voice and find a woman with hair like leaves before they get the Death, when they still shout bright in the cool Air. Her eyes have creases as she points with a dry finger.

  “Those monitors used to display anything you could think of. Images from thousands of cameras and satellites around the world. One can only assume what happened to those.”

  Graham's chest fills with Air and his arms go across it. “What are you doing here?”

  She puts her hands on her hips and smiles.

  “The others asked you to come here,” he says.

  “Can you blame them? You're putting them in danger. They know I'm the only one who will stand up to you.”

  “As long as you're standing up, you might be more comfortable stretching those legs on the other side of the blast doors.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “That's exactly what it is, Rachel. We both know I have the power to do it, so until I fail those people you need to keep your mouth shut and let me do what I have to do.”

  “He hasn't failed yet,” I say.

  “Graham forgets the condition this place was in when we found it. It's been a few years, I think his memory has gone rusty.”

  “I remember just fine.”

  “Then I'll tell her, and you can listen.”

  “It's not a her, it's an it.”

  She turns away from him, her face warm and cold at the same time, serious but soft. It's so much like my mother it's hard to look.

  “Before we came here, our group was twice the size it is now. With all the traveling we did in those days we lost a lot of them.” She looks over my Shoulder but there's nothing there. “It would have been safer to stay put, live in one place, but with a group that big we couldn't find one that fit us all that wasn't a cesspool of disease. We were stubborn, and we paid for it in lives.”

  “Get to the point,” Graham says.

  “Finding this place was a godsend, as you can imagine, and when we found the front door unlocked...well, to say we felt smiled down on wouldn't be stretching the truth. Not even a little. But the moment we opened that second door and stepped inside, that fuzzy feeling faded real quick. See the first of us in tripped over a dead monster, and not just dead but shriveled up. As we explored the base we found more bodies, and more bodies, not just monsters but people, too, people who'd been beaten to death and eaten.
We found the infirmary wide open and littered with dead doctors, along with signs they'd been treating someone for the virus.”

  Her hands come down. Her chin shakes.

  “And now here's the kicker- we found monsters who'd been eaten, too, eaten by other monsters, and one who'd been eaten by a woman who got herself locked in with it. She fed on it's dead body to stay alive, but the virus got to her and she turned. Then she starved, too.

  “We'd stumbled across a ghost ship. It took a bit of work to clean it up and make it livable, but from what we can tell it only took one infection to set off the chain. Just one infection, and one-by-one every soldier and officer here was either eaten or changed. Then when the people ran out, those things started eating each other. The last one alive was the first one we found, the one who died trying to claw its way through the front door. Sometime after that the fail-safes engaged. The doors unlocked, and we came along.” She's looking at Graham now. “It only takes one leak to bring a ship down. One leak to sink it.” Her voice is sad, the way that says she knows the Death.

  “I used to do that,” I say, stopping the silence between them.

  “Do what?”

  “Call them 'things'. That changes.”

  “Well today's not my day for that, honey.”

  I sniff the Air. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  She squints at me as Graham puts his hand on her arm and takes her away, saying he needs to talk. The snow on the screen is like a dream, a picture I can't touch with my Fingernails. I move so close it fills up my Eyes, until I can't see anything else.

  Whispering voices behind me. They think I can't hear them. I can smell the way their skin changes when they get close to each other. I never knew hate has a smell, but it does. It's sweet, and I like it.

  “I know how much you liked Terence,” Graham says.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It wasn't easy for you to stand up against him when everything came down, and I appreciate your loyalty.”

  “Get something straight, Graham, I never stood against Terence, I just knew I couldn't stand with him anymore.