The Distance

by Jeremy Robinson

  “If they could see through me, don’t you think they’d already be here?”

  “They prefer the dark,” Jeb says. “Use Rashes like you during the day.”

  “If that were true,” I say, “I don’t see how hiding your faces helps.”

  “He doesn’t talk like one of them,” someone says.

  “I just want to see who I’m talking to,” I say. “Then you can check us for rashes, or do whatever other tests you want to do.”

  I’ve never gambled. This might be the first time in my life. But it’s at least an educated gamble. Not that I have a choice. If they check me for the rash and find it, I’m pretty sure I’m a dead man.

  The woman complies with my request first, plucking her sunglasses from her face, revealing turquoise eyes and black skin. The mask goes next, and I see her face, which is distinctly sub-Saharan African, stunning—and young. Early twenties.

  “Tanya,” Jeb says, sounding annoyed. But he follows suit, pulling his mask and revealing an aquiline, white face framed by close cut blond hair and light brown eyes, the yang to Tanya’s yin. The rest follow Jeb’s lead, but since he follows Tanya, I think she’s the one in charge.

  I look at each and every face in the group and see exactly what I’d hoped to: youth. The youngest looks to be maybe eighteen. The oldest—Jeb—might be late twenties. It’s far too small a range to be a random selection of survivors. These are people like Mark and Poe, who were spared because their parents had some kind of advanced knowledge.

  Tanya leans in close. “Now you can see us. Anything else?”

  “My...name,” I say, trying not to smile.

  “And that is...?”

  “August,” I say. “My name is August.” I meet her eyes with my most confident gaze. “I think you’ve been looking for me.”

  39

  AUGUST

  Arms drop in unison with jaws. It’s what I was hoping for. Even Jeb looks stunned, like he’s woken from a dream only to find out it’s real.

  “How...” Tanya’s lips move, but she can’t find the words.

  “Mark was looking for me, too.” I motion my head to Mark, who is nodding, eyes wide, but not quite daring to show relief. Not yet. Not while we’re still bound. “And before him, Steve. I seem to be a popular guy.”

  “Cut them loose,” Tanya say.

  “But—” Jeb’s complaint is cut short by a sharp look from Tanya.

  “Now,” she says, confirming her leadership position.

  Jeb draws a knife from a sheath on his belt. “I still think this is a bad idea. They could be lying.” Despite his apprehension, Jeb slides the knife between my wrist and the chair’s arm. I tense as the cold blade touches my skin, fearing I’ve been cut. But after just a moment of pressure, my hand is released.

  After Jeb cuts the other hand free, I dig into my pants pocket and remove my wallet. I’m not sure why I’ve kept it all this time, the credit cards, cash and random receipts still tucked inside. Probably habit. But I’m glad for it now, because it contains something that will help put Jeb’s mind at ease. I tug out my license and hold it out to Tanya while Jeb frees my legs.

  She accepts the card, looks down at the details. The image. Whatever doubt still lingered fades away. A smile spreads. She looks at me, tears rolling down her cheeks. “We stopped thinking you were a person. Most of us believed we simply had to survive until August.”

  Before I can reply, she holds the license up in the air and turns to the unmasked community. It’s a diverse group of men and women representing a wide swath of nationalities, having only their generation in common. “We found him!” she declares. “We found August!”

  Instead of cheering, the group collectively sighs, unleashing months of pent up anxiety. Some sit and weep. Others hug. The rest step closer, eyes on mine, desperate to know me.

  Tanya hands the ID back, and I pocket it, thinking I’ll probably never need it again. Despite being freed, I remain seated. My body aches and my head throbs from Jeb’s assault. I rub my wrists, which are sore from being tightly bound, and I turn to Mark. Jeb is cutting him loose, but hasn’t bothered to remove the gag. I reach out and pull it from his mouth.

  He coughs, winces and flicks his tongue a few times in a futile attempt to remove the flavor.

  “You okay, kid?” I ask him.

  “Fine,” he says.

  “Could we have some water?” I ask, and before the request can be relayed from Tanya to someone else, a girl, no more than twenty, sprints away toward one of the cabins.

  I can see that Tanya is about to ask a question. It will no doubt be the first of many before I get a chance to really think. So I beat her to the punch, taking control of the conversation. “Before you ask, I don’t know much more than any of you. I survived the...event, but not like any of you. I’m old enough to be a father to most of you, so I wasn’t dragged into my basement and put inside a magic refrigerator.”

  The revelation that I know how they survived widens eyes even further. If anything, I’m accidentally elevating my status from mystery man to prophet, and that’s not something I want. “I only know this because I’ve met three of you already.”

  Tanya straightens, looking into the distance. “Are the others nearby?”

  How to answer that question?

  Honestly, I decide. Secrets, in this new world, could be deadly.

  “Poe is in New Hampshire.”

  “New Hampshire?” Tanya says.

  “We found each other via ham radio,” I explain. “We’re on our way to her.”

  “She’s preggers,” Mark adds. “Can’t travel.”

  He leaves out the fact that her two word message differed from everyone else’s, which is good, because we only have theories about that and none of them are easy.

  Tanya nods like this makes sense. “Where are you coming from?”

  “New Mexico,” I say.

  “Pasadena,” Mark says. “California.”

  When the young woman returns with two bottled waters, frigid and dripping with perspiration, the group settles down into sitting positions, surrounding Mark and me like eager kids waiting for story time. And that’s not a far cry from what they’re expecting.

  “Tell us,” Tanya says.

  “Tell you...what?” I ask.

  “Everything,” she says. “Both of you.”

  So I do. I give them a rundown of who I was, and what I was doing so far beneath the ground. The blank stares when I talk about my work tells me that none of them have ever given thought to the nearly unobservable dark matter and dark energy that cumulatively makes up ninety percent of the universe. Probably a good thing, as most of the knowledge in my mind is now unusable, unhelpful and in no way increases the odds of survival.

  There are tears when I tell them about Steve Manke’s death and excited whispers when I tell them about the physical confrontation with the Blur.

  “Good name,” someone says.

  “You’ve seen them?” I ask.

  Tanya nods. “Some of us have seen them. Some of us lost people, too. Like Steve.”

  “But none of us fought them,” Jeb confesses. He’s seated on the grass along with the rest of them, looking a good ten years younger than he did before. In fact, he looks almost gentle, like the kind of guy who’d be incapable of knocking someone out with a rifle. “That took serious balls.”

  “I had no choice,” I say, dismissing the idea that I’m a brave person. “As far as I knew, he was the only other person living aside from Poe and me.”

  “Dude,” Mark says. “Seriously. You’re like...” He shakes his head and smiles like I’ve just said something ridiculous. He turns to the group. “I met August—” He looks at me. “What? A month after you found Steve?” I nod. “A month later. He comes running out of the darkness, shouting at me. Total madman, right? I hadn’t seen anyone else since, you know, and here’s this guy... He shouts at me to put out my fire—”

  There are nods in the group around us. They’ve le
arned this lesson, too.

  “—and he dives on the flames. Puts them out with his fricken body, man.”

  Mark’s dramatic retelling draws a few smiles from the group. He continues in this fashion, detailing our flight through the woods, and from his perspective, my quick thinking, decisive action and willing sacrifice. When he gets to the part where I shot the Blur, nearly everyone gasps and does something with their hands. While most hands are now covering mouths, a few people clap.

  I should probably interrupt. Make it not seem like such a big deal. But looking back at it, and hearing the events from Mark’s perspective for the first time, I can’t really argue. Everything he said, while told excitedly, isn’t inaccurate. I did those things, albeit, not all on purpose.

  Maybe these people really were meant to find me?

  The plan, I think. Whoever set all this in motion, knew what I had inside me, even if I didn’t. But that is a revelation for another time.

  “How’s your shoulder?” Tanya asks.

  “Huh?”

  “It stabbed you, right?” she asks.

  “It put him out of commission for a few weeks,” Mark says. “Got infected. But he’s a salty old man.” He slaps my shoulder, right on the scar, and it hurts worse than I let on. “I’m telling you, this guy is a tank.”

  While Mark is a stranger to these people, I know him well. The excitement in his voice is forced now. He’s covering for me. For the rash. Whatever these people have experienced with others who have rashes, I’m not the same. ‘August’ or not, they might not trust us if they learn about the rash.

  “It’s getting dark,” I say, standing. The sun is a sliver on the horizon. When it disappears, the sky will get dark quick and the stars I used to adore will soon fill the sky. “Do you sleep in the cabins?”

  “Yeah,” Tanya says. “Is that okay?”

  I’m taken aback by the question. Tanya is the leader of this group, but she’s now asking for my approval.

  That’s when the full weight of what is happening here descends upon my shoulders. So far, I’ve only felt a personal responsibility for Mark, and at a greater distance, for Poe and Squirt. With all of these newcomers suddenly looking to me for guidance, for leadership, I feel like my own personal dark matter has been revealed, the burden of reality now ninety percent heavier. And ninety percent more meaningful. The human race now has a real chance, including a gene pool diverse enough that I’m even more convinced this has all been planned by a superior intellect—a superior intellect with enemies.

  “How long have you been here?” I ask.

  Tanya thinks for a moment. “Half of us arrived two weeks ago. The rest trickled in over the next three days, and then nothing until you two.”

  “Why did you stop?” I ask.

  “No one knew where to go,” she explains. “And this place seemed like a good place to hole up, you know?”

  “Right on,” Mark says. “But...” he turns to me, having been with me long enough to know what I’m going to say. Without ever meaning to, Mark has become my right hand man. My own personal Will Riker.

  “But?” Tanya asks.

  “We’re leaving tomorrow,” I say.

  “Leaving?”

  I nod. “At first light. First, because it’s not safe to stay in one place. Second, because of Poe.”

  “She really can’t come here?” Jeb asks. It’s clear none of them are going to want to leave. They’ve found a good life here. But it won’t last. And while I am thrilled to have met all of them, Poe claimed my heart a long time ago, and I will not, for anything, fail to reach her and Squirt.

  “You ever been pregnant?” I ask Jeb. There’s no argument after that.

  “Now…” I say, but I’m interrupted by a hand gripping my shoulder. It’s Mark.

  “Dude,” he says. “Sirius is usually the first star we see, yeah?”

  Sirius, one of the nearest stars to our solar system and by far the brightest aside from the sun, has become our early warning system. As the brightest star in the sky—if you’re not counting the planets, which can appear even brighter—its arrival tells us it’s time to get off the road and under a roof. I’m usually the one to point it out, though. “Yeah,” I say.

  Mark turns back and looks at the lowering sun, speaking to himself. “Sirius rises in the morning before the sun, and sets after it. So it should be...” He glances up toward the sky where Sirius should be. I follow his gaze and see nothing, or maybe just the hint of something. I’m sure it would be visible with a telescope. But its absence isn’t disconcerting. It means we still have plenty of time.

  “So,” he says, pointing south, “That’s not Sirius.”

  My attention snaps south, scouring the sky until I find it. A faint pinpoint of light. I quickly scan through my knowledge of the night sky, recalling the position of Venus, which is really the only other object aside from the sun and moon that should be visible this early.

  It’s not Venus.

  I do my best to stay calm and cool, turning to Tanya. “Get everyone inside. Now.” I turn to Jeb. “I’m going to need my rifle.”

  40

  AUGUST

  The rifle in my hands provides little comfort. Sure, it increases my potential for lethal force, but we’re facing the unknown. I have fought the Blur before. I even shot one of them. But did I kill it? Did I injure it in some significant way? I have no idea.

  But here is what I do know: this time will be different.

  This time I’m not going to run.

  I’m not going to hide.

  Not out of fright. Or cowardice. While I’m feeling ample amounts of both, I’m determined to let the Blur know that I no longer fear them. That their intrusion will be met with force. That this scientist has overcome his previous limits. That these people are under my protection.

  Flight has become fight.

  Gatherer has become hunter.

  I am the silverback now. But with an IQ one point shy of genius.

  They might be the destroyers of worlds, but tonight, I become death. It’s just a rifle in my hands. Not Oppenheimer’s atomic bomb. But I intend to be an equally potent deterrent to future attacks.

  I feel naked. Wild. And, for the first time, in charge. In the past, among a group of people such as this, I would have been unseen and unheard. A shadow. Tonight, I’m the one casting the light.

  The group of survivors splits up into groups, performing a practiced exodus into the cabins that will provide no protection if the Blur decide to simply turn us into dust. But they haven’t done that yet, aside from the attack on Crazy Lady, so I focus on preventing the only kind of attack we have any hope of repelling—the up close and personal kind.

  “Do you have any weapons?” I ask Jeb, who has remained by my side with Tanya and Mark.

  “Two hunting rifles,” he says.

  “Can you shoot?”

  He nods. “I’m from the South and named Jeb. What do you think?”

  I smile and turn to Mark and motion to one of the cabins not being used for shelter. “Both of you. In there. Defend the other cabins.”

  “We won’t really be able to see it,” Mark points out.

  “You don’t have to kill it,” I say. “Just keep their attention off of the others. And once you have their attention...you’ll see it just fine.”

  “Right,” Mark says, frowning. He’s as eager to see another Blur face as I am, which is to say, not at all.

  “Uh.” Jeb scratches his head. “You both keep saying ‘it’. What if it is a them?”

  “Then just try harder,” I say and force a smile.

  “C’mon,” Jeb says, slapping Mark’s arm with the back of his hand. The pair run to a cabin I assume contains the hunting rifles.

  I turn to Tanya. “Go with the others.”

  She shakes her head, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-uh.”

  “It’s not safe out—”

  “You know how alpha females lead wolf packs? Or how lionesses do the real hunting? A
nd fighting? And killing? Turns out human beings aren’t all that different.” She reaches behind her back and pulls out a handgun. I have no idea what kind it is, but its smooth black surface and hammerless body look lethal. Even more so when clutched in her confident hands. “I’ve kept this group alive for months. You might be the August we’ve been looking for, but these are my people, my responsibility, and I’ll be damned before I let you die protecting them. Besides, given the universal theme of the notes our parents left us, you might be the most important person here. You should be hiding. Not me.”

  While I can’t argue with her logic, I can stand my ground. “Not going to happen.”

  “Then we do this together,” she says. “What’s the plan?”

  I cast an awkward grin in her direction. My plan felt bold and crafty when in my own head, but now that I have to explain it to a partner...

  I cast an eye to the light on the horizon. It’s larger. Growing closer, and fast. I tell her the plan, eliciting a groan. But there’s no time to come up with an alternative. While Jeb and Mark sprint across the open space, rifles in hand, to one of the empty cabins, I get into position with Tanya by my side. All around the campground, cabins go silent and dark.

  As darkness fully descends, I slip beneath my cover and listen. Aside from my own breathing, and Tanya’s beside me, all I can hear are the awakening crickets, emboldened by the arrival of night.

  After a few minutes of silence, Tanya whispers. “August.”

  “What?”

  “So you were a scientist...”

  “An astrophysicist, why?”

  “What about before that?”

  “Before?”

  “Were you in the military? Maybe earned money for college?”

  “No.”

  “Boy scouts?”

  “I won a StarCraft tournament once.”

  “Is that like a competition for geniuses or something?”

  “Or something. It’s a video game.”

  Despite whispering, I can still hear her cursing.

  “It’s like chess,” I say, hoping the cliché thinking man’s game will help impress that I’m not a complete bonehead. “A game of strategy...against aliens.”