“Is that so?” She gnashed on the sandwich, talking with her mouth full most times, which drove Matt up the wall. She dipped into the fries. “Beautiful, isn’t it.” She was referring to the sky darkening with natural clouds, but none looked menacing, or would bring rain, so there was no need to pack up just yet. There was just enough color to give the heavens some oomph. Now that she got thinking about it, the firmament looked a lot like her painting right now; even the city seemed darker. “It’s just amazing.”
“Your painting? It sure is. You’re going to make money off it. You just need to start networking.”
“I meant the sky, and you know it.” She playfully bumped him. “It’s not all about money, you know.”
“Dreamer.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look, I support your art. I totally dig it, but you hardly sell any, and when you do, you have enough for coffee and donuts. That’s about it. You need to get yourself out there. There are tons of art galleries in the city. It’s time for the world to know of Kayla Strasberg.”
“I make a living.”
“You could have so much more. Look at that.” He motioned at the canvas. “It’s so lifelike. I feel like I could pull out a building and eat it like celery or splash up a tidal wave and flood the city.” He crossed his legs and put an arm along the backrest. She smiled, remembering their first date when did the same thing in Macintyre Theater before he kissed her. “No one paints like that. You put your heart into this day and night. Don’t you think you should be getting more than you’re getting back? The world needs to see your brilliance, you’re—”
“Okay, okay.”
Kayla didn’t like being pushed. She only resisted more. Maybe it was the Capricorn in her, planting firmly her feet, resisting any force of encouragement when it came to her art. It was a complex she had. When people pressured her to do something it was usually out of their own selfish needs, making her less trusting of people.
“You’re a perfectionist to a fault, that’s your problem in a nutshell. You got confidence, someone of low self-esteem doesn’t paint like that. Stop overthinking. Just do it.”
“Do you make deals with clients without doing extensive research on them?”
“That’s different, a lot of money could be lost—”
“Just like my reputation could be.”
The thought of putting subpar art out there gave her anxiety. She didn’t want to be one of those people who looked back at their old stuff and wished they had incinerated it. Sure, this painting was worthy of the world stage but no way in hell was it being introduced in that city. Anywhere but there.
“I appreciate your encouragement, hon,” she said, “but it’s my life.”
“Now, you don’t have to snotty about it.” He turned for an eye-to-eye argument.
“Want a fry?”
He shook his head, laughing, and pinched a fry from the cardboard holder. “Like I said, you always end up giving me the leftovers.”
“Shit.” She jumped up at the first warm raindrop on her arm. It ran down her skin like blood. Drops splattered on the concrete like an invisible person’s nosebleed, leaving splotches everywhere. Scarlet raindrops blotched the painting. Some of them wormed down the canvas.
Matt helped her gather everything up and they rushed to the car. There wasn’t much traffic on this side of the river. Most of the buildings were residential. The painting was upright against the backseat. Kayla examined it, and was initially perturbed at Mother Nature graffiti-ing her painting. But then she realized it didn’t look so bad.
“It kind of adds to it, you know,” she said.
Matt shut the driver’s door as he wiggled himself into comfort.
“What are you going on about, everything is going to be stained with this red stuff. Look at our clothes, ruined.”
“I’m talking about the painting. Look at it. It’s like Mother Nature added the final touches. I know that’s crazy sounding, but every drop and streak is perfectly placed.” The sudden downpour pounded the roof. “It’s like I’m looking out at the world through my painting.”
“Well turn around and look out at this.”
The holy rain ran in rivulets down the windshield. The city gloomy, abandoned looking. Just like her painting. She saw the YouTube videos of other places experiencing the blood rain and the things it stained but there was nothing like witnessing it firsthand. The runners kept up with the roller-skaters and the joggers were keeping up with both, looking for shelter, as the blood rain ran down their faces and bare arms.
The world’s bleeding on humanity, she thought.
Matt turned up the radio and turned the knob back and forth. Only static.
“The music was just on and it cut out. I can’t find a station anywhere.”
She checked her phone settings. “No Internet either.”
“Holy shit. Look!” He pointed at the city.
Five passenger planes, a few helicopters, and a crop duster darted toward the city from different directions. One by one they exploded into the buildings.
“Oh my God, what’s happening?” Kayla didn’t know if she’d said the words out loud or not. Her brain was reeling.
“Terrorists, that’s what.”
He revved the car up.
“Matt.” She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
From within the fire and thick, black smoke, buildings toppled over, including ones that hadn’t been impacted. Skyscrapers fell into each other. Dust flew up and rolled out like an angry grey monster. The sky was clearing quickly, with the exception of one storm cloud round like an iris. It gave the sky an angry look until it blew away in threads of grey and faded into nothingness, like the sun was burning it all away.
“What the hell is happening, Matt?” She clasped her head with both hands, as dust fell over the river like a fog.
Matt reached for the radio again and tried every channel. Still only static.
She tried calling her mom. No signal.
“Kayla, Jesus, look at that.”
“Shut up for a second.” She was trying to text her mom but nothing would send. He tugged at her. “I said, wait —”
The fallen buildings lifted from the billowing dust. Chunks of brick and concrete fell. Sparkles of glass fairy-dusted the area.
“They’re—joining together?” She dropped the phone.
A gigantic skyscraper-arm rose with a headless body of crammed-together buildings, its hand made of mangled cars. It tugged at a battered skyscraper and attached it as its second arm with twisted iron beams for a fist. It bent over and reached into the water and lifted, with both hands, another building that it placed as its head, horizontally. Water dripped like saliva from its concrete and broken-window face. The car shook and rattled while the city monster went ape crazy, pulverizing everything into rubble and dust.
Matt turned the car around. Cars sped by on the main road leading out of the city. He joined them, almost colliding with one.
“This can’t be freaking happening. How’s this happening, Matt?” She looked back to see the city monster rise on one bent leg and push itself slowly upright. Then she looked past the monster. “There’s a second one.” Miles away, another city monster moved in their direction fast. The nearest one took one step, causing the car to shake and rattle, and almost skid out of control.
“Watch out.” She motioned at a car whizzing by them.
“You want to drive?” He kept his stare straight. “I didn’t think so. Now shut up and let me concentrate.”
On the driver’s side, another city awakened into the blue sky and looked like it was moving their way, or so it appeared due to the immense size of it. She glanced back to see their city yank the suspension bridge from its tower foundations. Cars dropped into the water as it attached the bridge as its tail. Was this happening all over the world?
“Jesus!” Matt shouted.
The car swerved as creatures made from stone advanced on vehicles. One was made of tombs
tones and coffins with corpses and skeletons dangling here and there like macabre jewellery. Matt avoided the last one as she looked back to see the cars behind them being crushed, or picked up and slammed.
“They’re crashing into each other,” Matt said. “They’ve gone mad.”
She turned around to see cars farther down spin around and ram into each other, some of them overturning and rolling over still others. It was a crash derby on a grand scale.
Matt squealed to a stop.
“What are you doing?”
“It stopped on its own.” He pushed his door open. “Get out.”
“What do you mean it stopped on its own? I’m not going out there.”
“Will you listen to me, it won’t start. Come on.” He darted around the car.
Had he lost his mind? Stone creatures behind them and people gone insane in front of them, and city monsters walking toward them seemingly in all directions, and he wanted her to step out of the car?
He flew her door open and pulled at her. “Let’s go, hon.”
A truck and two cars raced side by side in their direction. She really had no choice.
They bailed out of the car and rushed to the steep bank and climbed up it, sometimes slipping, reaching the tree line just as the three vehicles converged on their car. In one of them, a woman pounded on the driver’s window, silently screaming through her tears while holding a baby. The car was driving itself, much to Kayla’s disbelief.
“Oh my God.” She turned away and hugged Matt. The sound of metal and glass collided, throwing up pieces into the woods.
“We got to go.” The ground rumbled and shook, lifting them from their feet. The sound of metal screeching across the pavement became deafening. She turned to see vehicles pulled along by an invisible force, lifting and spinning into the air. One car grazed the side of the woods, knocking small trees down, enough for her to see cars gravitate toward the city monster, becoming its armor.
Matt pulled at her as the ground trembled. They kept running away from where their city once was, from everything, deeper into the woods, into the thick spruce and sugar maple trees, with no idea how far the forest reached. Animals ramped in every direction, wolves, bears, deer, none concerned with the others or the fleeing humans. The forest canopy hid much of the outside, but she saw glimpses of the monster city. A few more steps and it would pass them. Suddenly, humanity was insignificant on its own turf by its own creations. It was a long time coming, but why couldn’t it have waited another seventy years when she was long dead?
“It can’t see us in here,” she said, gasping for breath. “I got to stop.”
“It doesn’t need to see us to accidentally squash us.” He stopped. “The thing’s huge. Those smaller ones are out there, too, and I saw three more big ones from a distance. We got to keep running.”
A loud deafening roar, and then another, and two more, as if the city monsters were communicating. The ground quaked and trees rattled. Matt stumbled and she fell on top of him. They scrambled back up, fighting their way through a forest where they stopped and stared at the people in the trees. Branches around their necks and mouths as they struggled to get loose.
“The trees are alive too.” Kayla felt like vomiting from the anxiety hitting her. There was nowhere to run. Every leaf had crimson raindrops, every branch, every tree trunk was streaked in red. “It’s brought everything to life,” she said of the holy rain. “We’re not safe anywhere.”
The ground moved again, knocking them over. She could see through a break in the treetops that the city monster had stopped before stepping into the forest as birds of every feather peppered the sky. It was looking down their way, as if it knew they were alive in here but couldn’t advance for some reason. Of course, she was imagining it. It couldn’t see them. They weren’t even ants compared to the size of it.
“We got to keep running.”
“But the trees, look at everyone, Matt.” People reached out to them, the branches tight around their mouths and chests and legs. “We can’t just leave—”
“Don’t look at them.” He grabbed her hand. “Look straight down and I’ll lead us through this.”
She kept looking down, letting him lead, and everything was okay until there was a collective snap. Bodies started dropping all around them. Children or adult, there was no discrimination. They looked up at her, their eyes condemning her for being alive, for not helping them. She was too frightened to cry for them; too confused to make any sense of it. She covered up from the sudden sunlight as she was pulled into a clearing. They stopped.
Matt said nothing. When her eyes adjusted, she almost collapsed from the dizzying vision of the city monsters standing over them. The forest wasn’t that big at all. There was enough space between the city monsters to give the illusion of an escape, but one step from either of them would squash that attempt easy enough. Even if Kayla and Matt got through, they’d be snatched up by the smaller monstrosities that were made from wrecked houses and apartment buildings, who were flinging the dead into one big pile. They had nowhere to go. Everything was a wasteland except for the forests which remained standing.
One of the city monsters lowered itself into a kneeling position, and the breeze from its movement almost blew her over.
“The last of humanity,” a female voice boomed from a mouth of brick and twisted metal. “Humanity’s seed in the balance. Convince me to let you live.”
Matt went speechless, his eyes wide, as if he had gone silently mad. He let go of her and staggered backwards, mumbling incoherently.
Kayla didn’t have to think about what to say. Only one thing came to mind.
“Let us start over again,” she shouted, as Matt fell back into a seated position and rocked back and forth with arms folded, humming, as if trying to drown out reality. Not her; she stood steadfast, hoping it couldn’t sense her fear, hoping it would be impressed that such a tiny thing could have such spunk. “Let us start over, like Adam and Eve.”
A silence filled the world as the city monster considered her words. The last of the dead were piled up and a fire lit. The house and apartment monsters held hands and clumsily danced around the blazing bonfire, then one by one they entered the flames.
The city monster’s mouth turned up at one corner. Its eye suddenly glowed like the sun.
“Made that mistake once before.”
Its enormous fist came down on them.
James Pyne was born in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia. His writing has recently appeared in Grey Matter Monsters, Clockwork Wonderland, Only the Light We Make, Death and Decorations, Jack O’Lanterns, and is forthcoming in Renegades of Prose, Missing, Buried, and a few other anthologies. He’s also working on the completion of his latest novels, Woe and Big Cranky. If you dig his work, or want to troll him, feel free to add him on Facebook: facebook.com/jjamespyne.
A New Kind of Eden
by
J.T. Seate
Were they merely lucky, or had they been chosen? It was like a hole in the fabric of time had opened and they had slipped into prehistory. As far as Evelin knew, she and Aaron were the only two people left on earth.
Huge branches of large trees hummed in the wind, making empty music while providing shelter. Evelin looked across a land that bore no house, no lean-to, not even a chicken coop, and felt fortunate the disaster had fallen during a warm summer. The early morning mist hanging over the landscape created a scene mirroring the dawn of time. They might actually be the second Adam and Eve, even though they had clothes to wear when choosing to and more than just an apple to be tempted by. Although it wasn’t a time for childish notions, Evelin didn’t attempt to chase them away because notions were the only indulgence left to them.
She and Aaron fled to the remote countryside not long after the catastrophe. Populated areas were dangerous and the electricity had failed almost immediately. Truth be told, she enjoyed the pastoral scenes devoid of manmade objects such as power lines that carried no power and phone lines that c
arried no communication.
Aaron lay asleep next to her inside their double sleeping bag. They couldn’t just waltz into a supermarket and pick out what they needed, because buildings were off-limits. The two of them had been camping out for a couple of days when it happened. Evelin had reached the time when she wanted to get pregnant, and conceiving with the stars as their canopy seemed the perfect way to begin a family.
When they hiked back to the road the following morning, they saw a vehicle parked next to theirs with its driver’s door open. Half in and half out of the truck was a set of clothes. It was as if the truck’s driver had dematerialized. They examined another vehicle. Behind the wheel was another set of clothes settled in the car seat.
They set down their gear and hustled toward an outpost less than a mile away. Along the road were other vehicles. They all contained the same scene—clothes without their owners inside them.
Reaching the convenience store, Aaron made tracks for the building, but Evelin grabbed his arm and held him back. Just inside the glass door were more empty clothes.
“What happened?” he asked.
Before she could answer, a figure appeared from a nearby stand of trees. He looked like a modern-day mountain man—scraggly beard, weathered features, a hunting knife in his belt. He and approached them in a rush. “You kids know what the hell’s going on with folks around here? Heard anything on the radio?”
“We’ve been camping. We don’t know anything except people seem to have disappeared right out of their clothes.”
“Been inside the store?”
“No,” Evelin said. “But there are empty clothes in there, too. Look.” She pointed.
“This is some kind of crazy-ass joke. It’s got to be,” the man said and headed for the door.
Evelin and Aaron watched as the man opened the door. One fatal step. The man dematerialized as he entered. His fatigues fell in a heap on top of the other garments. The couple gasped. The shock couldn’t have been more jolting if they had bitten into a plugged-in electric cord while wearing braces. Too frightened for expletives, they backed away from the store and the sight their unbelieving eyes just witnessed.
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