by Geoff North
“Okay. You have a twin brother and he’s my best friend. What’s his name?”
She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Allan reached out to steady her. Sheila pushed him away. “I don’t know. I don’t know my brother’s name. Allan… what’s happening to me… to us?’
He held her against his chest. “You’re an only child… like me.” He could feel her hitching but she didn’t make a sound. “This other stuff—the way we made those people do what we wanted—I don’t know what the hell that is.”
“Abraham… his name’s Abraham. Everyone calls him Abe, but sometimes you call him Abie. Do you remember?”
Allan stroked some hair away from her wet eyes. “His hair’s black, like yours.”
“He was with us this afternoon, before we… you know, before we went to my room.”
Allan’s head was beginning to ache. “There was someone else with us… a girl.”
“A girl—my Mom?”
“No, someone young like us… blonde hair, pale eyes… Tubby?”
“Tubby?”
“Isn’t there a girl in our history class called Tubby?”
“Tub—” She winced and clutched the front of her skull in both hands.
“Sheila! What is it, what’s wrong?”
“My head… It hurts so bad.”
Allan wanted to comfort her but it was taking all of his effort not to hold his own aching head. He wanted to throw up. Any more pressure in his brain and something would break. And then the pain vanished. Like someone throwing a light stich. He could see by Sheila’s expression that the relief was instant for her, too.
“We have to go somewhere,” she said.
Allan pointed to the south, towards the belt of poplar trees surrounding the farm. “There.”
He took her hand and they walked purposefully through the ditch and into the wheat field. The sun had set, painting the field rusty orange. A pack of coyotes started to howl in the distance. A familiar ache thrummed through Sheila’s mouth and vibrated in her teeth. She wasn’t afraid. All she felt was an urge, a hunger to get to the trees… to the thing stuck in the branches with its yellow-puss chest wound that stunk of urine and stale spice.
And there it was. Full memory of the afternoon’s events returned. How could they have possibly forgotten? They approached from a different angle—coming up from behind it—dipping beneath a barbwire fence and pushing through thirty yards of unruly bushes and rotting deadfall. The head that had reminded Allan of a welder’s helmet turned slowly and they saw the black slit. They stopped ten feet away and waited for it to speak in their heads.
See what we can do, children? It paused, and Allan had the feeling it was smiling even though the black line remained perfectly straight, like a black knife wound slashed across its face. We can make you forget we were ever here. We can make you forget about your siblings and your friends. We can take it all away and give it all back with a thought.
Sheila was about to respond with her mind but forced her voice to work. “Where have Abe and Rebecca gone? I want to see my brother again.”
They have been sent into your planet’s past to fulfill our objective. Their bodies have been enhanced to survive… to seed the virus throughout your species.
“Virus? You’ve made them sick?”
We have made them carriers.
Allan finally made his mouth work. “Carriers of what? Why?”
There have been moments in Earth’s recent history when your species was almost wiped out. Your closest brush with extinction was seventy-four thousand years ago. A volcanic event in what is now called Indonesia threatened to eradicate the remaining few thousand human beings struggling through the last Ice Age.
“What does any of this have to do with Abe and Rebecca?” Sheila asked.
Allan answered for her. “They’re carrying a virus to wipe the rest out. Abe and Becky have been sent back to end the human race.”
Sheila tried to back away but her feet refused to move. “We have to get out of here—call the police, the Government…somebody…” She tugged at Allan’s arm. It was like trying to move stone.
You will not tell anyone. We have given the two of you different but equally powerful abilities to ensure our presence remains a secret. You will safeguard this craft… this body… until help arrives.
Allan recalled the last two hours in town—the things he had said and gotten away with.
The thing could read his mind.
Keep people away and these abilities are yours forever. You will not age, the abilities will only strengthen. Keep us safe and you will share the new world with us.
Sheila didn’t need the ability to read minds to know the thing was lying. “You want us all dead. Why not just take everything by force?”
We are not a violent species… we do not possess weaponry. There are… tidier ways to get what we need.
Something else came to her. “If Abe and Becky were sent back into the past to kill off humanity—how are we still here?”
There was a long pause in their minds, a hidden moment when the thing’s thoughts were blocked completely. You will safeguard this craft and this body until help arrives. You will thrive. You will thrive.
Allan felt his toes tingling. He squeezed Sheila’s hand and pulled at her arm. “Let’s go.”
She followed him back through the trees and under the barbwire fence. Her mouth was dry and her head was pounding. Her body felt as if it were being licked throughout with cold fire. It was the worst time to feel it, but Sheila’s entire being was overcome with desire. They were in the last bit of remaining forest. She could see her house through the shelterbelt of spruce trees lining the backyard. She yanked Allan around and saw the same feelings staring back at her.
He pushed her down into the deep grass, stripping off his tee-shirt and struggling out of his jeans. Sheila was doing the same.
Three words repeated inside their heads as they had sex for the second—and not the last—time that day.
We will thrive. We will thrive. We will thrive.
Chapter 5
Becky wanted to scream but her jaw was frozen shut. Something grey and covered with little white hairs probed at her cheek, whispered across her ear, and slithered down her neck. It was warm and damp and made unusually deep snorting sounds as it tried to work its way under her armpit. It found us. We ran to the other side of the world and that thing in the woods still found us.
Abe swatted at it and the grey flesh flicked up into the air. There was a wail below them like a trumpet blaring. Abe caught Becky up in his arms before she could roll out of their tree nest and onto the creature below. It backed away two steps, the giant head swiveled to one side for a better look at the intruders disturbing its leafy breakfast above.
Becky pulled one leg up through the branches that had fallen through during their sleep and scrunched up into a ball. “I thought it was that thing… but it’s only a… uuh… what is it?”
“An elephant.”
“Doesn’t look like any kind of elephant I’ve ever seen.”
Abe crawled to the edge and peered down. It was still staring up at them, the massive trunk swaying back in forth in mild distress. There was an unusually large swelling of flesh and bone between its eyes, and the ears were small and wrinkled. Its back end seemed disproportionate, the legs much smaller and shorter compared to the tree-trunk columns in front. “Me neither. Maybe it’s a mutant elephant or something.”
“I don’t think so.” She was pointing in the distance where four more were feeding in the tall grass. They all shared the same lopsided dimensions as the one below them. One was obviously a male and stood approximately twelve feet at its front shoulders. A baby, a quarter the male’s size, was running lazy circles around it. The male smacked it with its trunk and sent the youth trotting off to the safety of two females snacking on a leafy grove of bushes. Becky exhaled slowly and shook her head. “We’ve never seen elephants like that because they don’t exist anymore.�
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“What do you mean—like they’re extinct?”
Becky didn’t answer him. It was difficult enough accepting where they were—compounding that with when was too much, too soon. She untangled one of the thicker branches from their bed and dropped it down onto the elephant’s head. It snorted and ran off to join the others. “Let’s get out of here and see if we can find something to eat.”
“You’re hungry?”
She was already halfway down the tree. “Not really, but it’s better than sitting up here all morning.” She jumped the last six feet. Abe thudded down next to her moments later. Becky pointed to Kilimanjaro. “Since it’s the only thing recognizable, I say we head that way.”
Abe nodded. It would take them in the opposite direction of the elephants and away from the grasslands where the lion attack had occurred. He looked at his arm. There was no trace of injury. Becky ran her fingers along the clean skin of his forearm. “Any pain?”
“Nothing.”
They gave the animals a wide berth and headed for the distant mountain. The bulbous-headed pachyderms watched the two strange creatures leave. The one female went back to her tree and resumed breakfast.
“We should be more concerned about finding water,” Abe said after the first quarter mile. The trees thinned out to sparse bush and the ground beneath their feet became a web of cracked earth and red sand.
“I’m not thirsty either,” she answered. “Besides, it’s only a couple of miles until the next forest.”
It looked more like seven or eight miles to Abe. Walking, they could make it two hours. The sun would be high by then and a lot hotter. He was about to tell her they should reconsider when an awful scream sounded behind them. They saw multiple flashes of brown streaking out of the tall grass and into the group of feeding elephants. One giant lion had already brought the baby down and four more were tearing at its behind, slashing and biting at the grey flesh. The mother elephant wailed in distress again and charged but more lions erupted from the grass. Half a dozen attacked her on one side, clinging to her shoulder and covering her face. She struggled for balance, attempted to shake them off and managed to grind one of them into the dirt using her head like a battering ram. She fell to one knee, her eyes coated with blood and shredded flesh. More lions attached themselves and she collapsed next to her dead cub with a final mournful cry.
Abe squeezed Becky’s hand and whispered. “They won’t come after us… not with all that to feed on.”
Becky didn’t feel that assured. The other elephants had abandoned the mother and its cub, lumbering away at high speed into the trees. Some of the lions followed, ten or more that couldn’t access the carcasses already brought down. And as Becky watched, additional numbers trotted out of the grass—dozens more. They could eat all of those elephants and still be hungry, she thought. “We have to run.”
“No… Keep going nice and easy.”
They walked for another half mile, quiet and slow, until the cluster of feeding cats was a shimmering spot of gold against green in the morning heat. Abe finally turned to the mountain and started to jog. Becky caught up and they continued side by side. She had never felt stronger. Her legs were powerful, her lungs breathed in and exhaled evenly. Her body craved more. She picked up the pace and Abe matched her. They ran faster, testing their new found capabilities in the harshest of conditions. Becky pushed harder and Abe did the same. They were running as fast as they could and Becky still wanted more. The lions couldn’t catch them now if they tried. No animal could this fast, for this long. How long had they been running? Abe finally started to drop behind her. She slowed her speed—regrettably—and came to a full stop, waiting for Abe to catch up.
“This isn’t right,” he said. “None of this makes any sense.” They had covered the sandy plain in minutes. The desert ended a hundred yards ahead and gave way to forest. Kilimanjaro loomed up beyond the tree tops.
Becky wasn’t even breathing hard. “It feels fantastic.”
There was a small trickle of sweat lining Abe’s brow. He dabbed it with his fingers and shook his head. “That should’ve killed us in this heat… I’m not even thirsty.”
“Maybe we’ve been given these strengths to cope in the environment.”
“You make it sound like were lab rats.”
“Maybe we are.”
Abe wandered closer to the trees. “We’d better stay in the open and follow the edge… we’re bound to hit a road sooner or later.”
“A road?”
“Yeah, a road. They have highways in Africa, don’t they? Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch a ride into the nearest town.”
Becky admired Abe’s courage but wished he could be more imaginative. “We’re not going to find any roads, and I don’t think there are going to be towns.”
“Why not?”
She couldn’t help smiling. Dumb, the boy is dumb. “Those elephants were prehistoric. And the lions… I think they’re the saber tooth kind.” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a so what? look. “This isn’t the twenty-first century. Not only have we ended up halfway around the world, but I think we’ve travelled into the past as well.”
“Yeah, sure we have.”
“I’d say at least twenty-five thousand years into the past. Maybe further.”
“So there’s a chance we could run into dinosaurs?”
Her smile widened. “I don’t think so. More monkeys, elephants and lions, a few animals that will be familiar, and some that won’t.” Something else occurred to her. Humans came from Africa. That made the question of when in Africa they were far more important. Twenty or thirty thousand years ago homo-sapiens were about the only show left in town—but before that? How far back are we? She didn’t think Abe would be able to offer much of an opinion. He was still scanning the tops of the trees for Tyrannosaurus Rex.
“Well I still think we should keep out of the trees,” he offered. “We can duck in if something nasty comes from the plains, and we’ll be able to outrun anything in the open that comes out of the jungle.”
Abe could hardly be called a pre-history genius, but his survival sense was finer-tuned than hers. He was quick-thinking and could make split second decisions that had already saved their lives. They followed the jungle’s edge. After a few hours they could feel increased pressure in their leg muscles as the way steepened; an hour after that they heard the distant rumble of moving water. Abe and Becky came to a cliff and marveled out over a mile-wide valley cut from the jungle and running south into the desert. They were next to a waterfall that dropped a thousand feet into churning mist.
Abe yelled at her over the roar. “You thirsty yet?”
“No, but I would love to give my feet a dunk.”
“I’d like to give my whole body a dunk.” He held the front of his blood and feces stained tee-shirt out towards her. “Maybe clean this crap off, too.”
Becky started down first. It wasn’t a sheer drop, but the grade was greater than forty-five degrees. The day before she never would’ve attempted it—she wouldn’t have even had the courage to peer over the cliff’s edge—but now she bounded fearlessly down the first thirty feet of loose gravel to an outcrop of rock. Abe was beside her moments later. They jumped another twenty feet together through the air onto an even steeper slope of dirt and shale. Their movements were fast and perfectly coordinated. They descended another seven hundred feet this way—running, jumping, flying and laughing. Forest was coming up fast. Becky attempted to slow her speed and dug in a little too deep with the heels of her runners against loose shale. It gave way and she rode the rest of the way down on her buttocks and back. If the rock was cutting into her clothes and skin she couldn’t feel it. Nor could she feel pain as she braked against the rock with the palms of her hands. Crumbling shards broke away between her fingers and Becky’s speed slowed. There was still too much momentum to stop altogether. She shot off one last ledge hanging over the canopy of jungle. Her eyes saw green, settled on a thick branch, and
her arms shot out. Fingers found bark and gripped. She swung around it twice and finally came to a stop, dangling thirty feet above the ground.
Abe was below her standing in the tree’s shade, hands planted on his hips, a cocky smile on his face. “You got scared near the end, didn’t you?”
“You call this scared?” She let go and fell towards the grass. Abe stepped out of the way and watched her land gracefully. It should’ve been enough to break both legs but Becky barely had to bend her knees to absorb the impact. She straightened up and twisted around to check the condition of her backside. “Don’t look, but I think I tore the hell out my pants. Is my butt hanging out?”
“You told me not to look.”
The denim was noticeably shredded but mostly intact. The legs had torn and rolled halfway up her calves. She ran her fingers along the skin of her legs and found no cuts, not even a scrape. “It seems our clothes aren’t anywhere as tough as we are now.” She tore the cloth away above the knees effortlessly. Even the seams that were difficult to cut through with sharp scissors snapped easily between her hands.
“That’s a nice look,” Abe said. “… considering where we are.”
Becky could feel the mist from the falls against her face. “Perfect for swimming.”
They came out from beneath the trees and onto a flat boulder that disappeared into the water. Becky—always sensitive about her weight—tucked her shirt tightly into her newly transformed shorts and jumped in. Abe sat on the rock and watched her surface. A small rainbow formed in the mist above her wet hair. He took his time removing his shoes and socks. After closer inspection he threw the socks into the forest. No amount of fresh water would save them. He removed his pants next.
Becky gave him a warning scowl. “The underwear stays on.”
Abe gave her a hurt look, but they both knew he wasn’t about to go in naked. He slid along the wet stone and settled into the cool water.
Becky waded over to him and watched as he tried to squeeze the blood stains out of his shirt. He looked into her pale eyes again. The rainbow sat over her head like a halo. “What do you think happened to them?” She asked.