Sunfall (Season 2): Episodes 7-12

by Tim Meyer

  He tapped Kyle's shoulder, waking him from an enjoyable dream, the one where he bent Becky Wright over and fucked her against Chris Atkins's tombstone.

  “What?” he asked groggily. Only one eye opened. “What is it?”

  “I need a favor,” Soren said.

  “Oh, Jesus. What?”

  “It's Shondra.”

  “What about her?”

  “I think you know what.”

  Kyle nodded and closed both eyes, hoping the previous dream was not too far out of reach.

  Once the sun hid from the night and twilight reigned, Soren clapped his hands several times, waking the remaining sleepers. David shot out of his dream like being launched from a cannon. Shondra twitched on the floor and immediately pushed herself to her knees. Mouth was already awake, limping his way around the coffee station; he had made a fresh pot by boiling water and running it through the machine manually. The girls stirred awake, neither one of them rushing to join the waking world.

  “We're moving out in five,” Soren informed them.

  Shondra and David checked on Susan. She was awake and the gash on the back of her head looked ten times better than it had twelve hours ago. Susan thanked Shondra for her concern, and nothing more. Shondra didn't regret saving her life; she wasn't vindictive, and never saw Susan as a true threat. The real threat was Soren.

  “Shondra,” Soren said, approaching the three of them.

  “Yes?” She refused to look him in the eye.

  “A word.”

  He walked her to the other side of the room where Kyle waited behind the counter, helping himself to a pack of cigarettes and an expired Tastykake. Kyle handed Soren a cigarette and the two of them lit up, inhaling clouds of smoke and puffing them out in rapid succession.

  “What is it?” Shondra asked, staying far enough away so the smoke wouldn't bother her. A non-smoker all her life, she hated everything about it: the strong present odor, the taste, the never-fading stench that clung to her clothing, the harmful effects. Everything.

  “I need you to help Kyle with something.”

  “What's something?”

  “I don't want to discuss it much, because I don't want the others to hear.”

  She folded her arms across her midsection. “And why is that?”

  “Because... it's important.”

  Shondra glared at him.

  “Please,” Kyle said. “I can't do it myself.”

  “I'm not doing anything unless you tell me what it is.”

  Soren sucked on his cigarette. The lit end glowed bright orange. “I think Susan needs more rest.”

  “She's fine. It wasn't as bad as it looked.”

  His head wavered as if to say maybe yes, maybe no. “Regardless, I think she could use the extra time to relax. I, however, cannot wait. I'll press on with Mouth, David, and the girls, you and Kyle stay back with Susan. You'll let her sleep for a few more hours, then meet us at the station.”

  Shondra turned to Kyle. “Can't handle it by yourself?”

  Soren answered for him. “I'd feel better if there were two able-bodied people watching over her.”

  “What about David? He's able.”

  “You seem like you were taking good care of her.”

  “What—”

  “Enough,” Soren snapped.

  Shondra rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Her eyes settled on the map tucked under his arm. “How far away is the train station on foot?”

  He hesitated. “Less than an hour. West.”

  “We'll see you in a few hours.”

  No, you won't, Soren thought.

  -7-

  Mouth hated everything about their journey from the second they left the gas station. He hated that David had to help him walk. His ankle wasn't broken; it had purpled over the last twelve hours to the point where it would have been better if the bone had snapped. He couldn't put a lot of pressure on it. He didn't like leaving Shondra behind; his gut told him it was a bad idea. Along the walk, he and David fell behind about thirty feet, not nearly far enough for Soren to consider stopping. Dana bounced alongside him, and Mouth couldn't decipher what the two of them were talking about. Becky strolled between the two parties, occasionally checking over her shoulder to see if Mouth and David had fallen past the imaginary distance that would warrant a break.

  They saw many dead bodies along the way. The sun had blackened them beyond the point of recognition, heaps of tar and ash, black dust in an already dark world. Crows picked at their remains, digging through the crispy exterior and removing the warm gobbets beneath. They cawed to their brethren and a dozen more circled above, waiting for Mouth and the rest of the travelers to experience a similar outcome. Against the black sky it was hard to make out their appearance, but he heard the flapping of their wings and eager cries for expired flesh. He wondered what other scavengers the darkness harbored, how many eyes were watching them from nearby fields and forests. The thought injected a shiver through his veins, which made its rounds quickly, dying in the base of his spine.

  On the steps leading to the train station, several dead collected, their bodies picked cleanly by the hungry buzzards, whose world—six months ago—became an expansive buffet that would occupy their bellies for a long time. An old-fashioned clock stood a few feet from the entrance. Ivy arms told them when the power went out; the big arm settled on the three, the little on the eleven. A murder collected on the clock, continuing to watch them, biding their time, waiting for a meal fresh off the grill.

  Soren pushed through the revolving glass door and Dana jumped into the next opening. Becky followed a few spaces behind, while David and Mouth followed a few minutes later. Lugging Mouth up the stairs populated with rotten bodies had been a challenge. Mouth wasn't fat or what most would consider chunky, but he did carry some extra weight he hoped the post-apocalyptic lifestyle would correct.

  Once through the doors, Soren stopped in the lobby, looking up at the departures board, yellow letters and numbers against an ashen background, displaying times for trains that never arrived. The group stood behind him, hoping to spot whatever it was they needed to find. Soren directed his flashlight at the board, reading every single departure and train number, unable to find the necessary information to continue.

  “Mouth,” Soren said, turning to him.

  “Yeah?”

  “You have the tickets.”

  Scrunching his face while trying to remember, he rummaged the inner pocket of a denim jacket he had taken from a dead man weeks ago. In the pockets rested the four glittery-gold tickets and Mouth produced them quickly, placing them in Soren's grabbing hand.

  Soren turned the tickets over and read the back. “Sub-Level 5. Solar Bay,” he read aloud. He checked the departures board and couldn't find any mention of Sub-Level 5, nor could he locate a space for the words “Solar Bay.”

  “Looks like you've led us on a wild-fucking goose chase,” Mouth said. “Wait til Shondra gets here. She's going to love tearing you a new asshole—”

  “Shondra didn't make it,” Kyle said, appearing behind them. He assisted Susan through the revolving door. “We were attacked. They... took her.”

  Mouth turned on his good ankle, keeping the bad one elevated. “Fuck you mean she didn't make it? Who attacked you?”

  Kyle's eyes dodged Mouth's hard gaze. “I don't know. A gang. They had weapons. We were lucky to get out of there alive.”

  Mouth furrowed his brow, his nose crinkling from the strong scent of bullshit. “Wait a minute. You mean to tell me a gang took Shondra and you two dumbasses managed to escape? Doesn't make a whole helluva lot sense to me.”

  “Well,” Kyle said, “that's what happened.”

  “Yeah, sure it is, slimdick.”

  “You don't believe me?”

  “Son, I'm more apt to believe Pinocchio.”

  “I'm not lying.”

  “Yeah? How many gang members were there?”

  “I don't know. It was dark. Maybe four?”

 
“Four? You managed to escape four attackers and Shondra couldn't?”

  “Yes.”

  Mouth glared at the sweaty kid. “Did you help her?”

  “I tried, but...”

  “You didn't, did you?”

  “It was dark...”

  “You fucking pansy.”

  “It was dark and we were scared. We ran.”

  “I don't fucking believe it.”

  Soren stepped between them. “That's enough. What happened, happened. We can't go back and fix it.”

  “The hell we can't!” Mouth shouted. “We can go back and get her!”

  “No point,” Kyle said. “They killed her.”

  Mouth hobbled over and pushed Kyle's chest with a firm finger. “You just said you ran.”

  “I did. I mean, we did.”

  Heat leaked through the pores on Mouth's face. “How do you know she's dead?”

  “Because I know. I saw it. As I was running.”

  “How'd they do it?” Mouth kept calm, fighting the urge to grab the little cretin by the throat and squeeze until his windpipe splintered under his rage.

  “I... I... I think a pipe. I think I saw a pipe.”

  “You lying little shit.”

  “Okay, enough,” Soren said, muscling his way between them again. “We have to find the train. It's clearly not above ground. I suggest we head to the stairs and take a look below. The train we're looking for is solar-powered, so it should be under a charging station, isolated from the rest.”

  “What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?” Mouth asked.

  “No one says you have to,” Soren told him. “You're more than happy to stay here by yourself.”

  “Becky, Dana—let's go. We'll go back and find Shondra and find your father some other way.” Becky and Dana didn't move as he had expected them to. “Girls? What's the matter?”

  “I want to go with Soren,” Dana said.

  “Dana, he's dangerous. He'll sell you to the highest bidder if that means his survival. He's a trickster. The whole walking out in the sun thing is a gag. An illusion. He has no real powers, Dana. I call smoke and mirrors.”

  She stood her ground.

  “Don't listen to this fool, Dana,” Soren said, staring into the hobbled man's eyes. “He knows nothing.”

  “I want to go with Soren, too,” Becky said.

  Mouth's face contorted like she had punched him in the balls. “Becky... why?”

  “Because...” She averted her eyes. Dana stood next to her, putting an arm around her sister's waist. “Alaska is safe. That's where our father will be looking for us. It's too risky to travel the way we came. Plus... I trust Soren.”

  “Becky, you can't—”

  “Enough, Mouth,” Soren said. “We've heard enough. If you want to go, go. If you want to help us achieve the common goal, then come. No one will force you either way.” Soren turned and walked toward the steps leading down to the lower level platforms. He waved to the others to do the same.

  Dana followed Soren immediately with a bouncy gait. Before following her sister, Becky glanced at Mouth like she knew what she had said was wrong. Susan and Kyle bustled past Mouth, refusing to look at him. David put his hand on Mouth's shoulder.

  “Don't let them get to you,” he said.

  Mouth spat on the glass tile floor, as if purging a bad taste. “They're liars.”

  “You can't do anything about it. Not now.”

  David was right. What else was he going to do? Leave? Break his promise to Sam? No. He made a promise he intended to keep, whatever the cost. He didn't know if Shondra was really dead or how much of Kyle's Swiss-cheese story was true, but he couldn't risk doubling back. He had to stick with Dana and Becky, no matter what.

  “You're right,” Mouth said.

  “Just keep cool. I don't trust him any more than you do.” David draped Mouth's arm over his neck. “Now let's go. Before we get left behind.”

  The stairs led to a basement area that offered little, except bland concrete walls and empty platforms where there were no trains left to board. They searched for an area marked “Solar Bay” but no one found anything like it. Discouraged, Soren paced up and down the long platforms, looking across the tracks where another long row of platforms sat, equally hopeless.

  He kicked rocks off the edge of the platform and the group listened to them ricochet off the rusty metal train tracks. Placing his hands on his hips, he cursed and kicked more pebbles and pieces of trash into the darkness below. After his tantrum was over, he turned back to the others, popping another cigarette between his lips. He lit up and inhaled, taking several long puffs, savoring every ashy moment.

  “I don't see a Solar Bay,” Mouth said. “I don't see any train whatsoever.”

  “No shit,” he replied. “It's here somewhere. We have to find it.”

  “Soren,” Kyle said, helping Susan to the ground. She found a nice corner to rest against, taking her jacket off and using it as padding between her and the concrete wall. “Maybe Mouth is right. Maybe there's another way?”

  “There's no other way. This is where we were told to go. This is where it is.”

  “Who told you to go?” Kyle asked. Soren's eyes threatened him and he felt compelled to elaborate. “I only ask because this place is freaky, man. It's dark. Abandoned. There are dead bodies on the steps out front. I mean, of all places you could have picked...”

  “I didn't pick it. It was chosen for me.”

  “By who?”

  “Doesn't matter.”

  “Just doesn't make sense.”

  Soren sucked the last inches of his cigarette away and tossed the remains into the darkness below. “It's here,” he repeated. “I know it is. We just have to find it.”

  Above them they heard movement, a noise sounding vaguely like footfalls accompanied by the sound of two rusty metals grinding against each other.

  “I don't think we're alone,” Susan said.

  Soren squinted, making out elevators in the near distance. “Then we better hurry.” He walked along the edge of the platform. “This way.”

  As soon as the elevator doors parted, a strong moldy odor hit them like a slap in the face. Painted on the gray concrete wall before them in safety yellow were the words SUB-LEVEL 1. The group hurried out of the elevator. Susan put her hand over her nose and mouth, trying to block the toxic odor from carrying harmful spores into her lungs. Soren marched forward—only the mission in mind—without care. Susan placed her hand over the lower half of Dana's face, but she pushed the woman away and protected herself. She hustled after Soren, leaving Susan by her lonesome.

  “Maybe it'd do you best to leave the little lady be,” Mouth chimed in her ear.

  “Screw you, pal,” Susan muttered.

  “Screw me! Well, that doesn't sound very Christian-like of you.” Mouth chuckled as he spoke. “Tell you what? Once this is all over, I'll let you screw me all you want. I mean, you wouldn't be my first choice—a bit too old, sagging in parts that—”

  “You're a filthy creature,” Susan snapped. Her lower lip quivered and Mouth enjoyed every subtle movement. “Filthy, disgusting monster. How dare you talk to me like that.”

  “Listen, Sister Crazypants. You came on to me.” Mouth smiled and limped away, leaving Susan behind, ignoring her mindless murmurs and hushed prayers.

  SUB-LEVEL 5 had no train parked in its bay. Soren stood on the edge of the boarding platform, facing the space where a train ought to be. He lowered his head and cursed the world, replaying the last few hours over, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. Did he misinterpret the golden tickets? He had looked them over thoroughly, read the words typed on the back in big bold letters several times. SUB-LEVEL 5. They were here and their transit was not.

  “What are you thinking?” Mouth asked.

  Soren surveyed his surroundings. “This doesn't add up.”

  “Told you we should head back,” Kyle said.

  He glared at his minion, disap
proving of the young man's tone.

  “Look!” Dana shouted, pointing down at the tracks. Between the two rails, a manhole cover lay next to a small opening.

  Soren directed his flashlight at the hole, but from their vantage point it was too dark to see down.

  “Where do you think it leads?” Dana asked. “I mean, we're already below ground.”

  Searching the ceiling, Becky pointed up. A ton of electronic equipment covered the ceiling. The alien structure reminded her of something she saw in Alien. “That's where the solar panels must be.” She followed the cables running from a giant circuit board down the walls and into the ground. “The solar panels must charge on the surface and transfer the power down below.”

  “Why the fuck wouldn't the train be here,” Mouth said, directing his finger at the empty space before them. “I mean, seems sort of unnecessary to have all this space, and no fucking train in it.”

  “Of course,” Soren said. Jumping from the boarding platform and onto the tracks below. Soren's happy face returned. He jogged over to the open manhole and gazed down into the dark abyss. He shone his flashlight down; a faint glow at the end of the descent caused his heart to leap. “It must use its own set of tracks.”

  “Well that fucking explains it!” Mouth said, smacking his own head as if to knock the sense into himself. “Well, let's go jump into the black hole everybody! Nothing bad can come of it, I'm sure!”

  Ignoring Mouth, Soren put his right foot on the first rusty rung. “If you're coming, I suggest we hurry. Whoever is down here with us won't be far behind.”

  “Wait!” Becky said, before he could put a second foot on the thin metal step. “Take these flares. Found them in the convenience store's emergency kit.” She shimmied her way off the boarding platform to the tracks below. Becky jogged over to Soren and gave him the package containing four flares. She lit one with the butane lighter Chris Atkins had coveted, the one she took from his pocket after his death.