Silence reigned for a moment, as if that statement had somehow stolen the voices from all gathered. I found my voice first, but noticed that I felt cold inside, as if chilled from a strong wind that didn’t exist. “Who, or what, are Those that dwell within?
“No one knows what they are. Or where they came from. But they and the fields have always been here as long as anyone can remember. They dwell among the corn, never leaving it. They always hunger, and they try to trap people by leaving things you want or need along the edges of the corn. If… if you take something, you are trapped here unless you pay for your freedom with a willing blood sacrifice. Otherwise, you will drive and drive. No matter how long you drive, the corn will never end. I… I am the last of my family. My wife, child, and I were traveling to a small fortified town on the other side of the corn. There is more living space out there, and the corn keeps the Savages, and all other hostile creatures away from us, at least from one side.”
“Come on now.” I crossed my arms, my eyebrows rising in obvious disbelief. “Ghosts and monsters don’t exist, at least not the kind that can’t be explained by rad poisoning or various chemical mutations. If there are some kind of people living in the corn, causing problems, they can be handled one way or another. Hell, let’s just burn the corn. You all know how well it burns and how dry it is. Let’s burn the fields down and just drive away. It will keep them occupied.”
Zeek was already shaking his head, a now steady stream of tears falling. “That won’t work. My wife, Sheila, and I tried this. We had stopped to relieve ourselves. We only took our eyes off of him for a second. But that was all they needed. He was too young to understand, only a few summers old.”
Zeek reached down, fumbling with something inside the front pocket of his overalls. Slowly he withdrew a strange, round, colored object with a small loop of string sticking out of it. He held the item up and it slowly began to spin, more string coming out of it. The disc-shaped item spun, and it began to glow, beautiful colored lights flashing.
There were soft gasps, as well as other sounds from those around us, along with soft whispers wondering what it was.
Angus was the one who answered the crowd. “It be a child’s toy. You wrap the string around it, and when you let it fall, it spins. It seems this one makes colorful flashes. So, you’re saying since he picked this up, you were now trapped here, unable to leave?”
“We became desperate. Sheila grabbed Vigo and tossed him in the rig. But we deep down knew it was too late. After five hours of driving, we knew we were doomed. We blamed one another, screaming and fighting till we were out of gas. We knew not to expect any others, and even if they came, they could do nothing. If we joined their group and drove with them, they would be cursed as well.”
Protests suddenly erupted, but Zeek quickly waved his hands. “I can sit with you, I can share drink and food with you, just not travel. Well, I can now, for you have taken from Those that dwell within.
“Finally, with a sudden, well, what we thought was inspiration, we decided, like you just did, to burn the corn. Siphoning what little gas we had left in our tank, we lit both sides of the fields on fire. It seemed to work like a charm. The fire spread rapidly, consuming the corn like some holy fire wiping away the evil that marked this land. It was just about this time we realized the smoke was growing thicker around us and we found it hard to breathe. We stumbled into our rig, covering Vigo in a blanket, and holding on to one another. The last thing I remember was hearing Vigo’s and Sheila’s coughing. Then I passed out. When I awoke…”
Zeek had paused, a fresh set of tears once more running down his cheeks. “When I awoke, Sheila was gone. The passenger’s side door was open and there was a large bloody trail leading from the seat, across the road… and into the corn. They had taken her. I never knew they could leave the corn, but it seemed that our trespass against them, had allowed them an unknown freedom. They had taken her, and the corn…” Zeek gazed around, looking from one side of the road, to the other. “…was back, untouched by the flames that only a short while ago had consumed it.”
Soft gasps filled the area as my family recoiled with fright at this tale. Off in the distance I heard a soft cry.
“Dear God, I can see the dried blood still on the road. He is telling the truth.”
Lily was the next to speak, although her voice was filled with a mixture of emotions to such a degree that even I could not identify what she was exactly feeling. “Where be your son, Zeek? Where be Vigo?” Even her accent seemed stronger, her voice growing harder as she spoke.
Zeek shook his head slowly, lowering it in shame before raising an unsteady arm and pointing back toward his rig. “I… I wouldn’t… I couldn’t let them take him. Yah gotta understand. They took her, and I could stand hearing him cry out to me for his mother, then days later for water and food.” Zeek’s head rose and his eyes now seemed almost vacant. I made it quick… when he was sleeping. He didn’t suffer; he didn’t know. Just a quick jerk and a snap and he was gone.
“If I had been brave enough, I could have saved them. They require blood, willing blood freely given. That is their price for anything taken. One must walk into the corn, a willing sacrifice to Those that dwell within. If I had been brave enough, my wife and child would still be alive.”
I reached out and gently pulled Angus back a little before whispering to him, “Angus, you’re not actually believing this crazy? There might be something in the corn. Something had to drag his wife away, but there ain’t no ghost people who dwell in the corn, that can’t leave the corn, but then can leave the corn, but only when you burn the corn. Then they can leave to steal someone which then magically regrows the burned corn. It’s ridiculous. Something killed his wife, maybe even his child, after they ran out of gas here. Combine that with starvation and thirst… anyone would break. I’m sure once he is able to sleep, drink, and eat more we will eventually be able to find out what truly happened.” I released a loud breath, realizing my hushed rant had left me slightly breathless.
Angus just nodded and gave me a strange, almost sorrowful, look. He turned to everyone and raised his hands. The family quickly grew silent. “This be unexpected and unwanted news. But do not fear. You are my family and I, as always, will take care of you. For now, let us gas up Zeek’s rig. He will join us as we test to see if this curse has truly befallen us. For three days we shall travel. If we are nay free of the corn fields, we shall then decide what be our next step.”
And like that, the decision had been made. I knew better than to question Angus publicly, as even as his only daughter’s husband it would force him to act against me and would bring shame upon Lily. Shrugging, I headed back to my rig and went to hop up and onto my padded and belted scouting seat on the top.
Angus grabbed me gently as I began to climb. “Nay, lad, I want ye in the rig with me. We need to be having a talk.”
That was unusual. Unless weather was bad, I almost always rode on top. My days spent sitting up in a tower in Vegas surveying my surroundings had sharpened my eyes. I could detect the slightest difference in the horizon and spot movement most would miss.
As I made my way into the passenger’s seat, I glanced in the back. Angus’s rig was packed with a little bit of everything. It held his, Lily’s, and even my own personal possessions. Along with food, gas, and most of the more precious trade goods we had, the larger rig was stuffed. Enough room had been made, so someone could go lie down behind the two seats in case the weather was bad and we needed to sleep inside. Angus jumped in right after I did, and within a few minutes—since we needed to gas up Zeek’s rig—we were on the move.
Angus was oddly quiet for a while as he drove. The silence broke after perhaps half an hour. “Ye have been sheltered, lad. Your city, Vegas, it was protected from certain things. Sure, there were rad creatures, and various other tribes constantly warring for dominance, but ye need to understand. When this world almost died many, many years ago, many things did die, many things changed, as
well as many things were born into this world. But there are things, far older things, that awoke when the lights of the world died. Magic kept those things at bay, the magic of the old world. Your city seemed like it was ruined, but below it that old magic still flowed. I knew this for a fact, so I seen it with me own eyes as we left. Your tower was a pillar of light. The light of the old world. The dark things that awoke in this world are driven away by that magic. It pushes them away almost, keeps them at bay.”
“Angus, please, I’m no child,” I interrupted, slightly irritated at the fact Angus was buying into this guy’s craziness.
But just as quick as I had cut in, I was cut off. “Nay, lad, you listen to me. I, as well as the others, even Lily, have seen things, encountered things. Many terrible, some amazing. But all of them are not caused by radiation, or by mutations. I have even seen people who glow with a strange light, a greenish… witchlight. These people can summon forth powers normal people couldn’t even imagine—conjuring terrors, or flames, or even healing terrible wounds in a matter of seconds. They are rare, but each trip across these tattered lands brings more and more stories of them, more encounters with them and encounters and stories of unknown things, terrible unexplained creatures and occurrences. Your city, because of the old-world magic that runs below it, was safe from these things. But you are with us now; you are part of me family. You need to know; you need to believe. Because believing, can save yer life. Disbelief will do nothing but keep you blind until it is too late.” Angus gave me a rather long, slightly stern, sideways glance.
I met his eyes with my own steady and unflinching gaze. “I understand that sometimes things seem like they are magical. They seem like they have no possible explanation other than being caused by otherworldly entities, or mysterious spooks and creatures. But… I lived in a city where things that I did, things that I saw, that looked like magic. Or people who seemed like they could use magic were in reality scammers, people who wanted to control you or gain things from you. I made water appear high above the ground from apparently nowhere. I created fake light without a battery being seen or used.” Your own daughter thought it was magic. She has told me so. But it wasn’t.
I could see Angus was about to interrupt, his mouth already opening. “Let me finish. I understand that I have not seen everything in this world. Perhaps there are spooks, magic, and otherworldly creatures that have awoken. And for your safety, Lily’s safety as well as the rest of the caravan’s safety, I shall be cautious about anything I encounter that I am unsure about.” I already did this, so this wouldn’t be much of an issue for me, but I wanted to say something to placate Angus.
Angus nodded slightly. We continued driving in silence, which was fine by me. There was indeed a growing, gnawing worry inside of me as the corn fields continued undisturbed, mile after mile. Hour after hour.
***
We stopped for the night. The mood was somber. The corn still remained on all sides, and now it exuded a sense of malice so thick it weighed us down. Fires were kept low, using only small amounts of our dwindling wood supply. None dared to approach the corn and partake from the mounds of dried plants that lay around the stalks. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Julius was getting worse. Zena tended to him, but his fever was growing and the caravan was out of any remedies to aid in his recovery. Things would be over soon. Zeek had mentioned there was a small settlement on the other side of the corn. That I remembered, and that statement of his I believed. Once we reached it we could barter for treatment for Julius, resupply, and be on our way with new knowledge of the area and two new towns to trade with.
Early next morning I became terribly aware that my worldly views on the supernatural might need to be reconsidered. I stared down, as did the rest of my group, at the signs of a campsite, one made in the middle of the road, one with a large, dried, bloody drag mark on the outskirts.
Our campsite, the one we had found Zeek at. The same site that we had left… two days ago.
The caravan was in an uproar. People were panicking. Angus was doing all he could to keep his people from losing it. Some of our clan claimed that they had not used any corn and thus were only cursed because they traveled with us. Others blamed Zeek, saying we only became trapped because he now traveled with us.
The caravan was on the verge of tearing itself apart, fueled by fear of endless days among the corn, of a slow death at the hands of thirst or starvation—all of this brought on by the fear of Those that dwell within.
I was not concerned for Zeek. No one would dare harm him. Such an atrocious act would be an affront of all we stood for. Any Treker would die before bringing harm unto a welcomed guest. At most, they might expel him from our group, making him travel alone. But if we were truly trapped, that wouldn’t accomplish anything. We would just keep running into him, over and over and over again. People leaving was more of an issue, as no one was forced to stay with the family. Any who chose to leave would be allowed to, with whatever property was their own as well as a farewell gift of food and supplies. But once you leave, you may never return. And such a loss would be a terrible blow to our family.
Angus traveled from rig to rig, speaking to the families they belonged to. He was a physically imposing man, but he was gifted with a silver tongue. And within a few hours, tempers had calmed, although everyone was close to the breaking point. Fear, worry, and sorrow still filled the camp as we broke down for the night. Angus was meeting with the heads of the other families, trying to work out some kind of plan. I stood on the outskirts of the caravan, staring into the corn.
I heard the whispers again. But this time I wasn’t so sure it was just the stalks rustling in the wind. I felt eyes upon me but saw nothing.
“Jack?” Lily’s sweet voice broke the rustling whispers from within the corn.
I turned, the chill of this night banished by the nearness of Lily. “Yes, my lil firefly?” I smirked, responding to her with her father’s, until recently, secret nickname.
Lily’s beautiful green eyes narrowed. My greeting was returned to me in the form of a small but powerful fist being slammed into my arm.
I groaned, cradling my poor arm. “Damn baby, I think you broke it!” I chuckled.
“Ye be fine. Hush your crying and man up.” She pressed up to me, placing a kiss on my cheek before leaning her body against mine. “You on guard duty?”
“Yeah, I won’t be in bed till late. Moon still has…” I raised my hand bringing my four fingers together, and placed them next to the moon, my index finger barely touching its outline. Then flipped my hand once over, then once again. Each of my four fingers measured an amount of time. Once the moon reached a point in the sky equal to my tenth finger, I would be done. “Till just around here.” I held my hand there for her to see.
I smiled at her and saw those lovely plump lips turn into a pout. “I hate these long trips. I want ye all to myself. I hope the town after this has rooms for rent. I want alone time with me man.” She leaned in close, her warm breath tickling my neck. But just as quick as her breath had warmed me, my skin grew cold as she drew away, hips swaying in a terribly teasing manner as she headed back toward the inner ring of the caravan before heading to, then into, our rig.
The night was anything but quiet. The sounds of slumber filled my ears. The fire had all but died out, but that was okay. My night vision had fully kicked in, and with an almost full moon, I was able to see pretty well down the road. But it was not there that I was looking. It was within the corn. The wind had died down, but the soft indecipherable whispers continued. I nervously gripped my precious rifle, holding it tight. The whispers continued, their words just beyond comprehension. But I felt—I knew deep within myself—that I never wanted to hear what they were saying. For such knowledge was not meant for me.
The whispers were suddenly interrupted by a soft groan. Followed by a dragging-like sound. My mind instantly flashed to Zeek’s story and the bloody drag mark. My rifle snapped up and I gazed around, swinging it back and f
orth, looking for the sound. Another soft groan filled the night. My heart began to race. Should I wake the caravan? Should I alert someone? Where the fuck was the other guard on post? How has he not heard that noise? Unless, he was the one groaning. Perhaps Those that dwell within had gotten him.
I moved quickly to the opposite side of the caravan, peering around a rig, I found the guard… sleeping, slumped against one of the rigs, gun in his hands. He was snoring softly.
“Shit.” I was pissed but also relieved that he was alive but asleep. If we survived this… no, not if but when, I would inform Angus and let him deal with this issue. But for now, I needed to figure out where the groaning and scrapping had come from.
Heading back to my side of the caravan, I heard the faint groan once more. As I peered along the edge of the rig I had been guarding, I finally saw movement, something dark crawling slowly out from between two rigs about thirty feet ahead of me. It looked like a person. Hefting my rifle, I crept forward, staying low until I had closed the gap, raising my rifle. The groaning stopped and the crawling figure turned its head to look at me.
“Julius?” I mouthed the name softly as the figured revealed itself to me. “Julius, what the hell are you doing?”
His voice was weak, raspy. “Please help me, Jack. I—I don’t have the strength.” Julius shuddered, his body wracked with coughs, which he tried his best to muffle.
“Help you? Damnit, Julius, what are you doing out…?” Insight flooded my mind, and I knew what he was trying to do. Zeek had told us that the only way out was a willing blood sacrifice. Those that dwell within demanded a willing blood sacrifice. “You can’t. What about Zena? What about Vigo?” I was angry. The growing volume of my voice was evidence of this.
“Please, keep your voice down.” Julius was wheezing, struggling to speak complete sentences. “I’m dying…, Jack. My blood… is poisoned… from my… wound.” Another rasping deep cough rattled poor Julius’s body. “If those things… in the corn demand blood… let them… have mine. Hopefully, they will choke… on it. I… am willing to… do… this for my family, for all of… you. But I don’t… have the strength. Please, lend me… some of yours. Help me walk to my… fate like… like a man. Not… crawl like a child.” Julius was wheezing with each breath now, speaking was becoming more and more of a labor for him.
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