Mega Post-Apocalyptic Double Bill

by Mark Gillespie

  Baldilocks pointed at a curly-haired man who was carrying a large plastic container towards one of the cabins.

  “Number 28,” Baldilocks called out. “Who was I before? Before all this?”

  Number 28 stopped what he was doing and looked over towards the communal table. All of a sudden he roared with belly laughter. It was an enormous sound, enough to make Eda jump slightly in her seat.

  “I remember,” Number 28 said, yelling back over. “Crazy Baldilocks, that’s what we used to call him. What I used to call him. Used to laugh at him on my way to work every day = the mad bastard going up and down the street, holding up his sign. I used to see groups of kids sitting on the wall on the opposite side of the street from where he patrolled. They were all laughing at him but they were too scared to get close. The local loon, that’s what he was. You were only what back then? Twenty-five? Thirty?”

  Baldilocks managed a feeble nod.

  “The way they used to look at me...”

  Number 28 walked over and his fat hands fell on the table.

  “Turned out we were the crazy ones,” he said. “One day I saw it with my own eyes – the war this mad bastard had been predicting for years. The same war that all the suits said would never happen. And Baldilocks walked out of that war unscathed, not a scratch on his face. When we were all homeless, he had this look on his face that said I fucking told you so and he was right – he did fucking tell us so and what did we do? We laughed at him for it.”

  “For those of us who survived,” Number 10 said, leaning forward on the bench, “it was a wake up call. There was no ignoring him after that.”

  Baldilocks watched the others intently as they spoke. His lips moved, as if he was repeating their words silently to himself.

  Then he turned back to Eda.

  “They were dropping bombs all over Jersey,” he said. “Newark, Jersey City, Paterson, Edison – and not one of those places played any sort of strategic role in the war. Not one. When the bombs came, when there was no more help from the outside – that’s when they realized that I was more than just a street bum. Their overlords didn’t care about them. They couldn’t help them and like I always said, the end was nigh. Savings, a big house and a fancy car meant nothing. The bombs, Jesus Christ, they were hitting everything and everyone and nobody even knew if it was their planes or our planes dropping them. I guess, it didn’t matter if you were on the ground.”

  Eda shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “People began to listen to him at last,” Number 10 said. “I was only a kid back then but it was like I grew up overnight. Holy shit, everyone’s childhood ended all at once. My mom was the only other survivor in my family. She apologized to Baldilocks like everyone else. Well if I’m being honest, she downright begged for forgiveness and asked what the hell she was supposed to do next to keep me safe. When Baldilocks declared an exodus out of the city, nobody hesitated to go with him.”

  “It was Uncle Sam who proposed the exodus,” Baldilocks said. “I was merely the vehicle through which the message was communicated.”

  “Why here though?” Eda asked. “Why a swamp?”

  “I knew the Meadows well,” Baldilocks said, pouring himself another glass of water. He topped up Number 10’s glass too. “My family moved to Jersey City from London when I was around ten years old. My dad used to bring me here fishing and hiking – he was a real outdoorsman and some of my happiest memories are of this place. I felt safe here. I still do.”

  David looked at Baldilocks.

  “How did you know?” he asked. “That it was going to happen. What I mean is, why did you start carrying those signs before the war?”

  Baldilocks stared back at David.

  “A long time ago,” he said, “when I was a young man, I heard it for the first time. It was an incredible experience – a voice whispered in my ear. Like a dream. It told me that we were a cursed species and that a time would come when Uncle Sam would wreak havoc upon the world. Unless of course, they repented. I tried to warn people but nobody repented.”

  “So Uncle Sam lives under a giant crater?” Eda said. “He’s full up now?”

  Baldilocks narrowed his eyes and looked at Eda. He looked like someone who was checking to see if the other person was making fun of them.

  “Why don’t you let us show you where he lives?” Baldilocks said, chuckling quietly. “See it for yourself, hmmm? I know what you both must be thinking. Who the hell are these crazy people living in the middle of the swamp? You must think us mad.”

  Eda didn’t want to stay there much longer, let alone go visit their god. But she couldn’t think of the words to get out of it.

  “Spend the night here,” Baldilocks said. “We have a few cabins spare and you’re more than welcome to sleep and rest up after what must have been a strenuous journey from New York. First thing tomorrow, we’ll show you where Uncle Sam lives. Trust me, it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before.”

  “I don’t know,” Eda said, shaking her head. She caught a glimpse of the dense swampland that surrounded them and felt a sinking feeling inside. Even with David’s knowledge of the Meadows, they were at the mercy of their hosts when it came to finding their way back to the road. “I think maybe we should be…”

  “Is it far?” David asked. He was looking at Baldilocks.

  “Not too far,” Baldilocks said. “We go to Fairfield via the river. We’ve got some wooden canoes tied up on the bank not far from here. It’s rather a pleasant journey you’ll find.”

  “But we should really get going,” Eda said, looking at David. “Don’t you think?”

  Her voice felt like a whisper that wasn’t being heard.

  Baldilocks responded first. “Of course,” he said. “Do what you think is right Eda. Don’t listen to us rambling on and on. You’re more than welcome to fill your bag with supplies on the way out. We’ll take you back to the road if you’d like to get moving now. Are you sure we can’t tempt you? It’s quite safe here I assure you. We can show you where Uncle Sam is tomorrow and then we’ll drop you off on the highway no later than noon. Last offer, going…going…”

  David’s eyes lit up. There was a hopeful smile on his face that turned Eda’s stomach.

  “Sounds fascinating,” he said. “I’d quite like to see this crater.”

  “You really want to?” Eda said to David. “Don’t you think we should be…? You know? Moving on.”

  “I’m curious that’s all,” he said, dividing his attention between Eda and their hosts. “Live a little Eda. You won’t find anything like this in a book, that’s for sure.”

  Eda sighed and leaned her elbows on the table. The sigh sounded like a whistle escaping slowly through her lips.

  4

  That night, Eda, David and Frankie Boy slept in one of several vacant cabins located at the far end of the village.

  They’d been taken there not long after the conversation had dried up at the communal table. The visitors were left with some food and drink and a mountain of blankets. After that, the Children left them alone for the rest of the night. The plan was that they would meet up at breakfast the next morning and from there they’d be taken to Uncle Sam’s crater near Fairfield. The one that David so badly wanted to see.

  The cabins were sparse in terms of interior decoration. There wasn’t much room for anything except two handcrafted beds inside, which took up the majority of space. Eda threw her blankets onto the bed, leaving a spare one for Frankie Boy, which she dropped onto the floor and crumpled up a bit for him. Frankie Boy took up the offer, grateful to have somewhere quiet to curl up and close his eyes. The noise of camp had exhausted him as much as it had Eda.

  For the rest of the day, Eda and David lay on their beds. Eda’s limbs felt like they had lead weights inside and she didn’t think she could move again, even if she’d wanted to. Fortunately she’d paid a visit to the bathroom – behind a bush – before climbing into bed.

  Afternoon turned to evening. The ligh
t in the forest flickered out gradually as Eda listened to the strange noises coming in from outside. The Children began to move into their cabins and loud conversations fizzled to silence. The occasional spurt of birdsong lasted long into darkness. The space in between, that was filled by the listener’s imagination.

  “They’re trying to convert us,” Eda said. She was unsure of whether David was asleep or not. “You know that right? You get what they’re trying to do here?”

  She heard him turn over on the bed.

  “What did you say?” he asked. His voice was lazy and sluggish.

  “The Children want us to join them,” Eda said. “They want to turn us into Uncle Sam worshippers just like they are. Why else would they be so keen to take us to this crater where their god lives? Or is it meant to be a demon?”

  There was a short pause.

  “Nah,” David said. “You’re imagining it Eda. They’re weird but they’re harmless enough, don’t you think? We’ll be back on the road by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I hope so,” Eda said. “What’s with all that Uncle Sam crap anyway? Do these people really worship a giant hole in the ground? They don’t seem that crazy to me.”

  Another pause.

  “I guess so,” David said. “I quite like them. I can’t believe I’ve never ran into them in here before.”

  “Listen,” Eda said. “Here’s the plan. We’ll grab supplies off these guys first thing in the morning. Fill up the bag till it almost bursts. After that, we go with them to look at this hole in the ground that they love so much. We act impressed, we’re polite and all that but we don’t stay too long. Right? We’ll tell them we need the daylight and that we’ve got to keep moving. Hopefully we get that in first and they’ll realize there’s no point in asking us to join their cult.”

  “Right,” David said. “Any idea where we’re going next? We could go find the weapons I’ve got hidden in the swamp. What do you think?”

  Eda’s eyes remained glued to the ceiling.

  “I want to get out of the swamp,” she said. “Let’s just get back to the road, okay? See what else is out there.”

  They fell asleep soon afterwards.

  The next morning, after a light breakfast, a small party set off towards Uncle Sam’s crater. About fifteen of the Children, led by Baldilocks and Number 10, accompanied Eda, David and Frankie Boy through the swamp and on the trail that led back to the road. From there they walked east, parallel to the large highway that Eda, David and Frankie Boy had traveled out of Paterson on.

  Eda’s boots and khaki pants were covered in mud. Her rain cloak wasn’t much better off. It was fast becoming tiresome having to wrestle her feet out of this hostile terrain every second or third step. Nature didn’t want her here. That suited Eda – she didn’t want to be there either. The swamp was sending a clear message to the city girl – get the hell out.

  The Children didn’t seem to notice the difficult conditions anymore. With their camouflage clothing, they glided through the swamp, blending into the scenery effortlessly. It was like they’d always been there, like their ancestors had lived in the Meadows for a thousand years before them.

  They came to a halt on the banks of the Passaic River. The river was a wide stretch of dirty brown water that meandered for about eight miles through the swamp lowlands of New Jersey. The trees hung low here, stooping over as if reaching towards the surface of the water for a drink.

  Five upturned canoes sat at the edge of the water. The canoes had been secured on the riverbank with rope, tightly wrapped around the nearest, sturdiest tree trunk. The rope was taut. It looked ancient and exhausted, but in times of flood it had probably worked wonders in terms of preventing the boats from drifting away.

  The canoes appeared to be in good condition. They were made of wood and each one possessed a well-rounded hull with five planks showing on either side. They were hardy-looking vessels with the scars to prove it.

  Some of the Children rolled up their sleeves and after untying three of the canoes, they began to push them into the murky water. Baldilocks, Number 10 and a few others jumped into the lead boat. One of the men picked up a couple of single bladed paddles off the floor. He handed one to another passenger and the two paddlers began to direct the tiny vessel over the river.

  Eda, David and Frankie Boy were escorted into the third canoe with two other women. Eda didn’t know their numbers. She didn’t ask.

  The canoe drifted gently onto the shallow water, following the two leading boats. As instructed by one of the women, Eda and David sat on the bench in the middle with Frankie Boy slouching at their feet. The women sat at front and rear of the canoe, sandwiching their guests while they paddled further away from the riverbank.

  It was Eda’s first time on a boat and yet despite the strange sensation of land receding behind her, she enjoyed the sensation of the canoe gliding along the Passaic. It felt light and unreal, like movement inside a dream. The trees that lined the edge of the bank resembled huge and ancient beings, leaning closer, hoping to hear a secret pass from the travelers’ lips.

  “The river must flood a lot,” Eda said, looking at how close the water level was to the land. It wouldn’t take much for the Passaic to spill its banks.

  “We stay away when it floods,” the black-haired woman at the front of the canoe said. Her voice was stern, like her expression. “You want to survive here? Rule Number One. Respect the environment.”

  “Yeah,” Eda said. As far as she was concerned, Rule Number One was applicable anywhere.

  They traveled northeast on the Passaic, mostly in silence.

  A chorus of screeching sounds filled the sky. Eda looked up and watched a flock of large white birds flying by – she’d never heard or seen anything like it before. It was like another world. Eda had read something once about the River Styx – the river in Greek mythology that acted as the boundary between the Earth and Hades. She imagined that sailing down the Styx was much like this, cruising downstream in the Passaic, accompanied by an extraordinary feeling of isolation.

  In the lead boat, Baldilocks was sitting on the center bench, deep in conversation with Number 10, whose silky white hair blew backwards in the breeze.

  The little armada moved at a swift pace. After moving north it dipped south again and sailed underneath a couple of highways, leaving the Meadows altogether and coming out into a sedate, urban setting. A short while later, it came to a stop in the place that the Children called Fairfield.

  The three canoes pulled into the edge of the riverbank. The Children disembarked quickly, stepping out onto a bed of lush grass that was a far cry from the sludge-like terrain deeper inside the Meadows. The paddlers dropped the paddles inside the canoes. After dragging them further onto land, they turned the boats over and headed inland.

  Eda stepped onto the riverbank, followed by Frankie Boy. David was lagging a few paces behind.

  “Did you enjoy that my friends?” Baldilocks asked, turning back to his guests. “No matter how many times I make that journey it never gets old. Hmmm?”

  Eda and David both nodded.

  “I always find the river to be a wonderful source of contemplation,” Baldilocks said. He was looking at Eda. “Really clears the mind.”

  “I suppose,” she said.

  “But as wonderful as that was,” Baldilocks said, “it’s nothing compared to what you’re about to see. Are you both ready?”

  “Yeah,” Eda said. She forced a smile onto her face. “Ready.”

  “Let’s go see this thing,” David said.

  There was little talking after that. Eda and David played along, adapting to this mood of hushed reverence that the Children had adopted on their way to the crater. It was as if they were walking on sacred ground.

  Eda and David followed at the back of the group. They walked through a forest-like stretch at first, consisting of a thick wall of trees and an explosion of overgrown foliage. After a few minutes, this led them onto a tiny, secluded street. A faded
sign told them the street was called Riverside Drive. There were several small houses, mostly one-story buildings peering out from behind a jungle of long grass in the garden.

  With Baldilocks and Number 10 leading the way, the traveling party walked up the driveway of one of the houses, jumped a short wooden fence at the back and then from there climbed up a short, grassy incline that eventually brought them onto a long, winding stretch of empty road.

  “Uncle Sam,” Baldilocks said, stepping ahead of the group. He was pointing straight ahead, beyond the road.

  Eda took one look and her jaw dropped.

  “Oh my God,” she said. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  David stepped ahead of her, shuffling forward like a sleepwalker. He went ahead of all the others too, including Baldilocks.

  “That’s…that’s incredible.”

  Even Frankie Boy, who’d been enjoying the hike at a leisurely pace, stopped dead when he saw it. The dog let slip a low growl and then he fell silent, staring off into the distance, mesmerized like everyone else.

  Baldilocks stepped out ahead of the pack again. Then he turned around and faced his audience. His brow creased as he nodded his head slowly.

  “This is where you’ll find him,” he said. His voice was quiet, like somebody was sleeping nearby that he didn’t want to disturb.

  Eda couldn’t take her eyes off it.

  It was a giant crater. It was the biggest thing she’d ever seen and probably ever would see in her life. The small party stood about a hundred meters away from where the rim of the monstrous hole began. And from there it stretched back as far as the eye could see. Eda imagined that a long time ago, a giant had knelt down here and scooped a massive chunk of the world away with a shovel. How many millions of tons of earth had been displaced in its creation? It was at least a couple of hundred feet deep. The diameter was perhaps as much as a thousand feet.