GREEN TSUNAMI

by Cooney, Laura

  I have seen more people now. All I can guess is that they were in the same predicament I was, where I had limited mobility, and now we all seem to have been set free. I still see groups of the giant bugs along the way, but I try to stay as far away from them as I can.

  I’ve taken on a few traveling companions. Not something I would consciously do. I just want to get downtown and find you. But they kind of latched on to me. There’s a guy named Herb whose partner is also in one of the buildings downtown. And a woman named Angela, who just wanted to get away from her neighborhood, and finally figured out she could.

  They’ve both got deformities that slow them down. Herb has a growth on his back, like a hunchback. Angela has elongated facial features, her nose and ears hang almost to the ground. And she looks pregnant but swears she isn’t. I don’t know how anyone could tell anymore. Our bodies are all so changed now.

  Both of them are slower than I am. I’ve actually gotten used to hobbling around. I want to just move at my own pace, but I feel guilty leaving them behind. Another aspect of Angela’s face is that she can’t see very well. I think the corneas are overgrown as well. Herb has taken a very protective attitude toward her, and I can’t help but feel the same.

  But I want to find you so badly.

  Of course, we still have a dilemma ahead of us. You say you’re not changed, and you’re trapped inside the building. Does this mean coming outside could harm you? If you breathe the same air the Balloon Heads do, I’m guessing you’d be just fine. But I’m afraid to test my theory out.

  And I’m sure your building is a lot different now. It might not be as easy to get into as we think.

  But I can’t worry about these things now. I have to get to you, and then we’ll figure out a solution.

  The terrain is so different now. The asphalt is covered over in plants and flowers. Cars and trucks have become strange, oversized animals that can barely move. I’ve been thinking about trying to kill one of them. I wonder if they’re edible. But I can’t see how, if they used to be metal.

  I better sign off. Herb wants to see if he can reach his life partner, Jacob. I guess he’s an executive in one of the firms in the city. He says no one responds to his emails, but he wants to keep trying. And who knows how long we’ll have the wireless signal.

  Aaron

  August 25—2:12 a.m.

  Aaron,

  I am shaking and my skin is breaking out in goose bumps. I am so happy to get this email from you. I didn’t know what the cause of your silence was? Maybe you were mad at something I wrote that made you think I was a horrible, immoral, disgusting person. How do I know how I am anymore? How do I know what is right and wrong anymore? You could have been sick or dead. I don’t know if that would have been worse than you hating me. Well, I guess that is terribly self-centered of me to write that. Sorry.

  Whenever I don’t hear from you, I always think the worst. In this apocalypse, who can blame me? Never have you been dearer to me than in my darkest hour. It was so easy to take each other for granted in our former world of well-being. This is what love was made for, that strong steel rope that will pull us out of the hole. I gripped it so tight, my hands are cut and bleeding.

  Cindy has ceased to be who she was. I guess she is dead because when you die, your physical essence is metamorphosized, and she turned into a pile of Spanish moss. I’m glad she was nothing edible, for I might have eaten her. I strung her around the corners of the straw mat I sleep on.

  Her fever got worse and she’d stopped eating. I tried to give her water, but she couldn’t even hold that down. I was caring for her day and night against the wishes of the Balloon Heads, who wanted the same care I was giving to her. It gave me terrible migraines to go against the thoughts they put in my head. Bradley was angry. He told me to stop wasting my time and said Cindy brought it on herself by not eating the fruit. I think Bradley was scared when he saw I had the strength to fight the Balloon Heads.

  He said, “You’re using your power in the wrong way, Joy. You need me to help you.”

  “Shut up and go wipe Tomato’s ass,” I told him.

  Cindy couldn’t stop shivering until the last few hours. She stopped shivering and her fever cooled down. I thought she was getting better. I called Jose over. He looked down at her and shook his head. He’d been keeping his distance since she’d refused the fruit. I think that hurt his feelings in some way and he took it like Cindy rejected him.

  As her body grew cold, I became worried, but no one would help me. Everyone acted like they couldn’t see or hear me. She looked at me with her red eyes, her body a limp bag of bones, her greasy blonde hair coming out in clumps, and I thought how terrible it must feel to be her. She couldn’t speak, but she looked at me like she had a question she wanted to ask. Then she lifted her head slightly and let out a powerful sneeze that was as loud as an ambulance siren. This white powdery stuff came out of her nose and covered her whole body, like something alive. Like a swarm of bees. When it dissolved, all that was left of Cindy was the Spanish moss.

  The little donkey doll was still lying there, so I took it and stuffed it inside my shirt. I wanted to believe that Cindy gave it to me, that that was the question she was asking, “Will you take care of my little donkey for me?”

  So Cindy isn’t here anymore. And you’re not here and it seemed like forever since you emailed me, and I thought, “He’s never going to come for me.”

  I went into my hiding place and cuddled the toy donkey like I was nine years old. After a little bit, the headless child stumbled in noisily. It seemed to sense my presence and crept uncertainly toward me like a scared animal. I just sat there, seeing what it would do. It came and put its stubby arms around me.

  I picked it up and threw it hard against the wall. I am so sick of monstrous, suffering creatures. I don’t know if it’s still alive or not, or even if that thing can be killed.

  Aaron, when are you coming to take me away from this? I don’t know how much more I can stand. The next thing I try to kill will be myself.

  Joy

  August 26—1:51 a.m.

  Joy,

  I’m sorry I was silent for so long. For some reason, the closer I get to you, the harder it is to maintain a signal. You would think it would the opposite. I am approaching what once was a real city. If there are any wireless signals available, you’d think the most would be where you are. But that hasn’t been the case.

  Or maybe my laptop is finally dying. Or transforming.

  I’m relieved that I am finally getting closer to where you are. It was tough hearing from you in our old neighborhood and being trapped there, unable to search for you. But now that I’m finally making the journey, it’s been such slow going. Part of it is my foot, which doesn’t hurt like it used to, but which still slows me down considerably. The other part is the terrain, which has changed drastically.

  Do you remember all those movies and books about the end of the world? In those, the world is always a desolate, barren place. Like in the aftermath of a nuclear war. Who would have thought the opposite would happen? Everything is alive and growing, even things that were inanimate before, and expanding with their transformations. Some plants have run amok and are difficult to get through. Automobiles and homes are now half plant/half animal creatures that are mostly harmless, but provide further obstacles. This also makes it difficult for me to know if I’m going in the right direction. Nothing is as I remember it.

  In many ways, it’s all so beautiful. So alive. Except for humans. There are hardly any of us around anymore. And those who are left are deformed and ugly. It’s clear to me that we don’t belong here anymore.

  Luckily, I salvaged a compass, and it works. The earth is still upon its axis and North is still North, even though it may not look like it.

  I want so badly to take you away from that place, but I have to find it first. And I have no idea how strange a landscape the city will be.

  Aaron

  August 26—4:02 p.m.
/>   Joy,

  Well, I saw Davey again. It wasn’t the joyful reunion I’d hoped for (obvious sarcasm on my part).

  I was with the others, trying to make our way through thick, twisted walls of wood that had once been trees, and we were trying to get over, when something raced at us. Something large, long, and segmented. I was sure it was some monstrous centipede, come to devour us alive, and I was partly right.

  It was Davey, transformed still further. He is no longer awkward and clumsy. Now he has adapted to his new body and is quite adept at moving about quickly and accurately. His skin has taken on an even more shell-like density, and his face has grown further from what it was, and is part of a grotesque parody of a human head. Somehow I was still able to recognize him. Despite his further metamorphosis, he is still covered in large, bulbous tumors, and layers of suction cups. It’s quite disturbing to behold.

  He can use his body as a whip, and he immediately lashed out at Angela, knocking her to the ground. I was halfway up the wall, and dropped down, intent on helping her, but he lashed out again, knocking me out of the way. Then he wrapped his tail around her, attaching a hundred suction cups to her. Davey sucked every nutrient from her body, leaving her a brittle husk, like a bag of twigs. Her pregnant stomach, which she always claimed was not a child at all, was the only part of her body left intact, a large globe of flesh in the middle of an ossified corpse. As if it was a pit to be discarded after eating a peach.

  I got to my feet and tried to confront him. I knew it was our son, even if on some level I wasn’t completely convinced, and began to shout at him to leave us alone.

  “I have spared your life, Daddy,” he said inside my head, no longer using his human voice. “Be thankful for that. I could have just as easily devoured you instead. But, where mother rejected me from my earliest memories, I remember you showing me episodes of kindness, and now I repay those in turn.”

  I tried to reason with him and explain that the person he just killed was my friend, but he would have none of it. The word friend no longer had meaning for him. Luckily, Herb had already made it over the wall and was on the other side, out of Davey’s view.

  “I will try not to eat you,” Davey said to me. “But I cannot promise anything. All I can promise is that I will save you for last. That I will try to resist until the very end.”

  And then, as quickly he had come, he was gone, a rapidly moving serpent crawling at top speed through the newly green world.

  I knew he meant what he said. That he would try to avoid killing me for as long as he could. But I also know that humans were now his food. And who could say how many were still around. I can count the ones I’ve seen since leaving the neighborhood on two hands. That may sound like a lot compared to what I saw when I was trapped, but it’s still not much. If Davey eats one a day, they will disappear quickly.

  And then I would be his last meal before he either adapted to another food source or perished himself.

  After Davey had left, I checked Angela’s remains and that peach pit stomach of hers that Davey had not devoured. It was black and smooth, and resisted any attempts I made to break it open.

  Herb is scared and seems to know his days are numbered. I still have the sword, but Davey’s attack was so sudden that I was unable to use it. Strangely, I have not seen any working guns since the tsunami. The few I’ve come across have mutated into strange, half-amphibious life-forms that are completely useless.

  Now I will have to be more vigilant.

  Even now I can feel him watching us.

  Just so you know, Angela and Herb were both sending emails out when they could. I wanted them to try to contact their loved ones as well. But neither had received a response. I hope Angela doesn’t, now that I’d have to bear the news of her death. But what this means is that only you, out of many people we’ve tried to contact, has replied and provided proof they were still alive.

  All the more reason why I am determined to save you.

  We can go to Los Angeles. It will be a long trip down the coast, but it’s a goal. And even if everyone there has turned into religious zealots bent on begging God’s forgiveness for what we surely must have done wrong to bring about such a merciless end, it would be good to be around people again.

  At least that’s what I tell myself. I’m really not so sure.

  Believe me, if you disagree, I am sure you could convince me otherwise.

  I will try to write again as soon as I can.

  Aaron

  August 27—2:20 a.m.

  Aaron,

  After reading your last email, it gave me hope that you might actually find me. That frightens me. It’s not that I don’t want to see you again. But to leave this place, horrible as it is, would be a huge leap into the unknown. I haven’t been outside since the tsunami hit. I don’t know what to expect or if I’ll be able to survive out there. I keep thinking about the Balloon Heads saying the air outside is poisonous. That is probably a lie to keep us from trying to escape, but what if it’s true?

  I don’t even know if it’s possible for you to find me. I think this building, despite its multiple floors, is underground now. I am not sure how many floors the building has; there are no windows here. But I am certain there are at least three floors. There are no working elevators, so we have to climb debris-ridden stairs, so it’s not easy to advance to other floors. Remember I told you of the rumor about vegetable people on the third floor? Bradley, Jose, and I tried to go up to the third floor, but we weren’t able to get past this huge concrete block that was in the middle of the stairwell. There are concrete pieces all over the stairwells, as if chunks of the building had fallen in, yet there are no holes in the floors or ceilings. Maybe they grew back after they fell out?

  Your encounter with Davey sounded horrible. I wonder why he hates me so much more than you. That did hurt my feelings, reading what he said about me. I guess he wouldn’t hesitate to eat his own mother? And to think I had dreams of him rescuing me. Sometimes I wish I could speak to him one last time, but what would we have to say to each other?

  I still have Cindy’s Spanish moss around my bed and I keep the stuffed donkey with me all the time. I don’t know why I miss her, but I do. I guess she was the closest thing to a friend I had down here.

  People are still melting on the walls. They can’t help themselves. There’s plenty of that white goo to bottle-feed the Balloon Heads for the next month. If everyone eventually died on the wall, how would the Balloon Heads survive? I asked Bradley and he just smiled and said something about “survival of the fittest.” He definitely knows more than he’s saying. I wish I could get him to confide in me.

  That headless kid is still running around here, believe it or not. I don’t know how it survives. How is it able to eat without a head? People have lost their patience with that thing. They have taken to throwing apple cores and melon rinds at it. Yes, we still have the fruit. I don’t know what we’ll do when we run out of fruit. I hope you’ll get here before that happens.

  I tried to squat down beside Woody and talk to him like Bradley does. I got no response, so I started talking dirty to him and Woody moved his head and looked at me. That doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a big thing for a Balloon Head to do. Of course, Bradley immediately came and questioned me after.

  “What did you say to him?” Bradley demanded.

  “I was asking if he’d buy me a pony for Christmas,” I said.

  “I know that’s a joke,” Bradley said, “But you better be careful what you say to them.”

  “What do you say to them, Bradley?”

  “You don’t need to know that,” he told me.

  He wouldn’t answer any more of my questions and claimed it was for my own good that I didn’t know more. If you ever get down here, maybe you could do me a favor and punch Bradley in the face? I’d do it, but I’d have to find something to stand on or maybe do it when he was lying down.

  Good luck with your journey, Aaron. I’ll be here waiting for
you. I love you.

  Joy

  August 27—5:30 p.m.

  Joy,

  Well, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I finally made it downtown. The bad news is, I have no idea how to find you.

  You would not recognize downtown. The once tall skyscrapers are gone. Steel and glass replaced with green plants and thick, black clay. I am fairly sure I found your building, but as you said, it looks like it is mostly underground now. As are most of the buildings here. They look almost like giant snakes, with ninety percent of their bodies underground, and just their heads poking out. Like the buildings came to life and immediately burrowed beneath the earth. There is something vaguely building-like about these “heads,” something I just can’t put my finger on. But anyone who has never been here, and didn’t know what this area looked like before, would have no idea these things had been buildings.

  There are no streets anymore. The asphalt has cracked apart and shifted. So there is no way to pinpoint an exact address for sure. I’m using pure guesswork to figure out where you are, and even then it may take several tries until I get it right.

  I am sitting on a bench across the street from you, as far as I can tell. Remember that little park? Well, that appears untouched. The plants may be a bit grown out and wilder, but it is essentially the same. For some reason, the laptop works here. I remember working on my laptop and drinking from a cup of Starbucks’ coffee at this same exact spot in the past, when I used to come for my infrequent visits to take you to lunch. I miss the taste of real coffee. I haven’t been able to find any since the tsunami. Of course, that’s the least of my troubles.

  I’m alone right now. Herb didn’t make it. Davey attacked us yet again and took Herb away. I wasn’t surprised. I knew he’d follow me and I knew that Herb’s days were numbered. This time Davey told me that his food was running out and that he would have to take me next. I’m not too eager to find out if he means it. I’ve got the sword by my side at all times. I took a few whacks at him when he grabbed Herb, but he has such a hard outer shell that hacking away at him doesn’t do much damage, and I couldn’t get anywhere near his head. I have to find a better weapon.