Most Ardently

by Sheena Austin et al.

  Charity touched her hair and looked at a lock in her fingers. “I thought only body parts worked as currency here.”

  “Anything out of your body works if the vendors want them.” She gave a stink eye at one particular seller when they passed the CD stand. He had wanted teeth or gold.

  Charity looked at her and nodded. “I see.”

  “Lucky you,” a random guy whose eyes kept popping out of the sockets croaked at her and left as fast as he had appeared.

  “Ignore them,” Em whispered. “Jealousy is an ugly mark... and so it being a peeping tom.” She wiggled her eyebrows at the direction the guy had disappeared to. “Sometimes you can tell what their issue is.”

  “Can you tell mine?”

  Em scanned her head to toe but before she could say another word, Prudence interrupted her and pulled them both out of the Bazaar.

  “Quickly now. Looks like there will be a storm.”

  PRUDENCE AND ATENEA propped the last board against the window panes as Em hammered it down. As she hacked the last old rusty nail on it to seal the opening a howling wind threw itself at the old house like a hurricane. The house creaked and screamed for a moment before it settled to rest on the wind's merciless hands. Everyone was holding their breath, figuratively, as it did so.

  Charity wiped dust off her hands. She had been helping too and now her dress was more ruined than it had been before. A sigh escaped her torn lips.

  “Don’t worry, the storm rarely lasts long,” Prudence comforted her and sat on one of the remaining chairs.

  “I did not know you-we, even have storms here,” Charity replied and gave up trying to sort the feathers of the dress. Most of them were dirty gray now.

  “Why all the barricades though? Don’t the windows work as protection too?”

  “It is not the house we are trying to protect here,” Nefera joined the conversation with a scroll on hand. “It is us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The wind could steal a piece of you and... it would turn to snow,” Em said more hoarsely than before. She looked terrified under a blanket she had buried herself under. “It takes people, the wind. Not cool.”

  “It takes people?”

  “Yes,” Prudence said and settled her dress, “It takes Those who are too frail and do not have any shelter. That is why the church keeps the elderly in the catacombs. No wind in the world can reach them and they still have a chance of redemption.”

  Charity nodded slowly and took a seat. “So we just... wait?”

  “Yes,” Prudence nodded and counted the heads in the room. Em was sitting in her usual end-of-the-world-corner, Nefera was scribbling on the floor, Charity was tapping her fingers on her exposed knee when the table was not available in the doorway, and Taka...

  She did a double-take.

  “Has anyone seen Taka?”

  Everyone stopped moving and slowly turned to look at her. They had locked every single doorway, hole, and window from every single room. None of them had seen Taka-the eldest of them all.

  “Oh fuck,” Em said unceremoniously.

  Nefera said words that made her bandages twist like angry cattails.

  Charity looked at them. “Will she be ok?”

  Prudence looked more pale than usual. “...we forgot her outside...” She stared at the boarded-up windows. “How could we forget her into the storm??” Her usually composed expression melted into an intense worry.

  “I-I’m sure she will be alright,” Em tried to comfort her from her blanket fort.

  “Have you met her?” Nefera asked and squinted. “She is probably hurdling through the sky as we speak but there is nothing we could do about it.”

  “Unless...” Prudence said but snapped her jaw shut.

  Nefera looked at her. “Do you suggest going outside since you are so intact? No way, lady. Your hands could still go.” She pointed at Prudence’s shriveled fingers that she tried to hide under her apron.

  “Wait, so, this storm is not dangerous if you are intact?”

  Nefera turned to look at Charity. “Yes, in theory. Some people have survived when they have been in good flesh...” She measured Charity head to toe. “Such as yourself.”

  “Well, she for sure cannot go!” Prudence exclaimed and rose from her seat. “She is a fledgling without an idea where anything is!”

  Nefera shrugged like saying ‘as you say’ and turned to her scrolls.

  Em peeked out of the blankets that seemed to be sneakily piling up on her like a colorful hive. “Poor Taka.”

  They all stayed silent for a while.

  Charity chewed on her manicured nails a little and thought about the things said. On one hand, she did not think dying again was desirable, but on other... she was already dead. And could survive the storm. And Taka had been nice to her, kind of.

  “You know, I could do it if you give me a good map...” She said.

  “What?” Prudence asked, thinking she must have lost her hearing again.

  “I could go out to see if Taka is ok and in a safe place,” Charity repeated.

  “Excellent,” Nefera said and threw her with a scroll. “Here is a map I made of the city. I pointed at where you are right now with a big red dot and marked all Taka’s favorite places to be.”

  “Nefera! She can’t go!” Prudence insisted.

  “Don’t worry, I will be ok.”

  Nefera smiled. “You heard her, Pru. Have a little Faith.”

  Prudence walked to Charity and put her hand on her shoulder to look deep into her blue eyes. “Are you for sure certain?”

  “Yes.”

  “You do not have to do this.”

  “I know... but you need to start the good deeds from somewhere, right?” Charity gave her a smile that made Prudence lower her hand and sighed.

  “I will help you move the table.” She pulled out gloves from her apron and put them onto her hands. “But you will need some new clothes.”

  After what felt like forever, Charity had been stuffed into a new pair of thick and unflattering jeans, Em’s long-sleeved Christmas sweater that could have won any ugly sweater competition, pair of thick boots, and thick enough hat, gloves, and a scarf, to suffocate anyone with a need for oxygen. Lucky that she did not need any as she hobbled down the staircase with Prudence’s help.

  Em peeked into the hallway and laughed. “You look like a turkey.”

  Nefera looked out of the safe distance. “Hm. You could do a nice mummy. Have you considered becoming one?”

  Charity shook her head in a way that she hoped to say ‘never, thanks’ as the scarf sealed her lips too tight for talking.

  “Ladies, manners,” Prudence said and pushed Charity towards the door. “Remember. Do not stay long in the storm, take safety whenever you can and if you lose your clothes... just stay somewhere until the storm ends. It is safer that way.”

  “Tell Taka that we are sorry if you find her,” Nefera said and backed away from the hall. “If she grunts, it is probably forgiveness.”

  Em slunk back to the dining room and closed the door. Behind the closed door, she yelled, “Good luck!”

  Together Charity and Prudence capsized the dining room table that was blocking the main entrance.

  “Last moment to not do this...” Prudence said and pleaded Charity to stay with her eyes.

  Charity placed her thick gloved hand on her cheek and slapped a pair of hot pink swimming goggles on with the other.

  The door swung open violently after Prudence turned the key and Charity pushed herself outside into the whiteness. With inhuman strength, Prudence pushed the door closed once more and locked it.

  Loud bang signaled Charity that the table was at its place and it was time to move on with the plan to find Taka, the missing Neantherdal.

  MOVING WAS CONSIDERABLY difficult as Charity pushed through the snow. She had to move piles and piles of it to get to shelter to shelter. The weight of the bone dust seemed to climb onto her clothes and try to crawl up her s
kin. Earlier she had laughed and asked did she really need that much clothes but as the particles slammed vertically on her swimming goggles, she did not laugh anymore.

  It was a lot like a snow storm. She could see nothing but white on the sky, white on the ground, white on herself, white ahead, and white behind her. She kept a hand on a snow-covered wall and counted her steps.

  Soon she should reach a door to find a way into a shelter that could lead to a place Taka really enjoyed spending time in. Nefera had only written ‘Playhouse’ on it so she had no idea what waited for her when she finally saw a shape of a doorknob on the wall.

  Charity pushed the door with her whole weight but it would not budge. She wiped the door a little to see the faded green paint underneath. Then, she knocked and waited. She tried to turn the doorknob, and body slam onto the door. She plowed snow away from the front of it and pulled with all her strength.

  Finally, she gave up and sat back against the damn thing and thought, what a great rescue mission...

  Snow began to pile on her.

  Charity tried to remember how far was the next place on the map but could not recall a thing. Somewhere on the... right, maybe, was the Bazaar, beyond that was a shipyard of some sort, and... she hit blank. She couldn’t pull the map off her bra where she had stuffed it without exposing herself to the unnatural elements.

  Sighing deeply, in her mind so the scarf would not move and end up allowing all the snow piling up in her mouth, she started to get on her feet. The door felt nice and firm for about three seconds as she leaned on it and then it disappeared from under her hand. Charity lost her balance and fell into the darkness that did not meet her with a floor.

  It met her with a long and terrifying slide into a psychedelically painted neon nightmare. She slid on her stomach, face first, through the wormhole in reality and screamed from the top of her lungs as she spun further and further into the depths.

  The ride ended when Charity had no voice to spare. Gravity pushed her out of the tube onto a red worn carpet like a boiled spaghetti onto a plate. She laid there for a moment and regretted everything.

  The snow that had had the same ride as she slowly piled up on her.

  “Do you require help?” a ghostly voice asked above Charity.

  Charity pushed the scarf more off her face and looked up to see a spirit hovering there, worriedly. He was dressed as a clown from the time when clowns were more terrifying than funny but something in his closed up position told her that he was not happy at all.

  “Can you stand?” he asked.

  “Uh... Yes.” Charity pushed herself up and staggered for a moment. “I am looking for someone.”

  “And who may that be?”

  “Taka. Do you know her?”

  The ghost lit up right away and smiled at her. “Oh, you are one of her friends? Of course we know her! She is the most delightful person.”

  “Well, she is lost. Have you seen her?”

  “Oh no. She only comes here on Tuesdays.”

  “...on Tuesdays.”

  “Yes.”

  “I did not know we had dates down here. What day is it now?”

  “No idea.”

  “But you said...” she looked at the blissfully smiling ghost and swallowed her questions. “Thank you, I will be on my way.”

  “Tell Taka that we will be happy to have her here next week,” he replied and vanished. As he did so, the room Charity had thought to be only swirling neon colors, lit up with thousands of strange light bulbs and revealed an underground amusement park covered in snow. The snow was blowing in from somewhere high above her. The gust was not as strong as where she had been but it could push the rides to move by themselves ominously.

  The place was deserted as Charity pushed on and hid her face underneath the scarf. Near the Ferris wheel, she had to stop to hold on to a striped pole to stop herself from being pushed off her route. The wind tried to throw her around like a broken doll and that was when she really understood why only ghosts remained in the place. Anyone with existing body parts would have been whisked away.

  She held onto the pole tighter and looked at the next one. It was only five steps away. Any of the steps could push her away from safety.

  One deep habitual breath later she reached towards the pole and lept. The wind grabbed onto her body and pushed her steps to the side.

  Five steps turned to 6. 7. 8... She was being steered off course.

  With an act of wild desperation and a glimpse of where the wind was pushing her, Charity let herself fall. She hit the ground hard and started crawling feverishly on the ground towards the poles again. The wind could not get a good hold of her as she kept moving half-buried by the snow.

  She reached the pole and lifted herself to cradle it tightly.

  If only the pole had been firmly anchored in the ground and not rotten off, she would have been safe. It wasn’t. The deafening crack of breaking wood shook Charity from her sense of safety. The pole moved with her.

  And the wind picked up.

  The pole tore off the ground and caused Charity to fall on her back on the ground. She let go of the splintered wood that was ripping her shirt and watched it hurtle towards what she had barely escaped from a minute ago.

  A cliff.

  Charity did not want to guess how deep the drop was but she was bound to find out as the wind moved her towards it. She flipped herself on her stomach and tried to turn the course away from the ledge.

  This time the wind was stronger than her and did not care about her being less aerodynamic. It pushed her two steps closer to the opening void with every crawling step Charity could make.

  Her boots reached the end of the line. The tips of them dangled over until her knees met the edge.

  In a panic, Charity resorted to something she knew to be foolish.

  “HELP!” she screamed and pushed the scarf off her face. “HELP MEEEEEE!” Her hips slid over and she tried to grasp onto anything to stop the fall. Her gloved hands only met more and more snow.

  No more screams could escape her lips as the snow filled her mouth. The bone dust made it impossible to speak. She tried to spit it out but more flew in.

  Only her arms kept her up and with a split second, she feared death.

  Then her hands only clutched on air.

  She spun into the void unable to scream.

  THIS WAS THE SECOND time Charity felt cobble stones bash onto her corpse but this time she was more aware of how disturbing it was. The stones broke things but instead of sharp pain she mainly perceived the horrible sound it all made. The wet thud. The simultaneous snapping of the bones.

  And that she had died no more than she already was.

  It was more embarrassing than anything, really.

  She sighed and spat out the snow while more of it gently piled up on her. Glad that probably no one had seen her hurtle across the air in the thick darkness made her happy.

  That feeling was dispersed quickly as she pushed herself up and focused on her surroundings while her body decided what shape it wanted to be for the time being.

  First, it all was foggy but then Charity pushed the hot pink swimming goggles onto her forehead. The world was suddenly more full of light than before.

  Small firefly like things dotted the air and showed off the graveyard in its full snow covered creepiness. And the guy who was re-dying of laughter while sitting on one grave.

  He had had the time of his life, or death, watching her flap around like a headless chicken while her shredded reindeer sweater flapped around her and then slam on the ground like a failed pancake. Charity could only hear silent wheezes push out of his mouth.

  “Had enough fun yet?” Charity asked hoarsely. She placed her arms on her hips and tried to look threatening. Or as threatening you can be with legs pointing to wrong directions.

  The guy laughed even more now that he could see her entire attire up close. It was something about her goggles that broke his funny bone. He fell off the grave to roll o
n the ground.

  “Rude,” Charity said bluntly and slowly stood up on her newly re-assembled feet.

  He slowly stopped laughing when he noticed how she could barely stand.

  “Are you going to just stare?” she hissed.

  He arose as well and cleared his throat, “Sorry, I have had little fun down here so it kind of...” He offered his hand to her. “-you just looked hilarious.”

  Charity pushed his arm away. “That is not a way to treat a lady!”

  He looked at her and offered his hand again. “Honestly, I did not know there was a lady under there. You got very thick armor on.” He eyed her sweater that eyed back at him with the many googly eyes still stuck on it.

  She gave him a murderous look and almost fell. He caught her gently.

  “You seem to need some help there.”

  “Let go off me.”

  “Ok.” He let go and Charity fell on her face.

  She laid there for a moment, contemplating life. He stared at her doing that.

  “Need some help?” He finally asked.

  “...Yes.”

  “Name’s Jeremy. Jeremy Ditton. You can call me Jerry,” he said when he lightly lifted her in his arms. “Is this all right, miss?”

  “...Yes.” Charity grumbled.

  “Would you like me to deliver you somewhere specific?”

  Charity slipped her hand into the sweater and pulled the map out of her bra. She squinted at it trying to figure out where she was. “Do you know where The Boneyard is?” she looked at him in the dim light and noticed that he was remarkably intact. Before she could stop herself, she asked, “Are you a fledgling?”

  He smiled at her and started walking. “I have been called so, but I really prefer being called Jerry.”

  “Well, Jerry. Are you taking me to the Boneyard?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Right over there... and I bet it is not quite the place for ladies to go to.”

  “I am looking for a friend.”

  “Is this friend really into gambling and dumb shit like that?”

  Charity frowned. “What?”

  “Is gambling not a thing in the time you are from?”