by J. Thorn
“The hood shot upward into the shape of an inverted V on impact. I can’t really explain the sound. You would literally piss your pants if you heard it. I think I did. I felt it more than I heard it. It was like the oncoming beast was eating my car.”
Mara paused. She put a napkin to each eye while Samuel stared at his folded hands. More and more of the creatures from the dying locality appeared in the coffee shop in complete silence. They stood next to the table and behind Mara. Samuel tried not to look into those lost faces.
“I’m short. I was short,” Mara said, stumbling over her existence within an unknown world buried in the dream of another. “The seat belt locked, and I felt the burn on my neck.”
Samuel lifted his head and saw Mara tugging at the collar of her shirt. She pulled it down far enough for him to see the bruise that he had noticed when he arrived at the Barren.
“And then blackness. I don’t remember pain, not sure what happened to Tommy, what happened to anything.”
The tears came freely, without Mara using words to plug the dike.
“I can’t even remember how long there was blackness. When I opened my eyes again, I was here,” she said, using an arm to scan the room of the standing undead. “Well, not here, but here in this locality.”
“Where?” Samuel asked, unable to speak more than a single syllable.
“Wandering through that fucking forest. The one where nooses hang like leaves from the branches. The one you came from.”
He paused and put a hand over his mouth. “Do you think you’re dead?” he asked.
“Do you think I’m dead?” she replied. “I guess I wasn’t sure up until now.”
Samuel felt the room shudder. The forms in front of his face shimmered as if the entire room were submersed in water. He lifted his shoulders, sensing what was coming.
“I’m waking up.”
He reached across the table to grasp Mara’s hand. She extended hers and looked into his face through puffy, red eyes.
Samuel blinked the sleep from his eyes while staring at the back of Kole’s head as he slept on the floor of the cabin. Major glanced down at Samuel and then returned his stare to the window and the undead sentinels on the other side.
Chapter 11
The four prisoners sat within the walls of the one-room cell. Major shifted every so often, bending and craning his neck to acquire a better view of the army of undead soldiers surrounding the cabin. Their presence destroyed the Barren and any hope of exploring it further. Mara and Samuel sat on their respective chairs, across from each other at the table, while Kole remained slumped on the floor, running his finger through the dust. One lonely pot of gruel remained, which they hoped would last for as long as they needed it. Major had saved three cloudy bottles of water, now positioned at his feet.
The harbinger of the Reversion, the looming cloud, blotted out the sky. It devoured the tops of the trees and crept ever eastward in the march toward the end. Swirls of grey and slate slurry moved through the silent, roiling mass. Any light that Samuel could remember from his arrival in this locality had become a distant memory. The standing human remains continued to sway back and forth, as if caught in a slight breeze.
Mara held her chin low on her chest and fidgeted with her hands. Samuel saw her fingernails and winced. Ragged lines of red ran down her cuticles, raw from her own teeth and saliva. Her once-luxurious, black hair, which had radiated the ambient light of the coffee shop, lay in greasy, clumped masses, flakes of dandruff speckled like maggots on rotting meat. Samuel could not see her eyes, and he thought it was probably better this way. He did not think he could handle the sorrow contained in them. Every so often, Mara would sigh and shake her head, never raising it.
“We’re running out of time.” Major spoke, the most he had in days, if days could still be measured here.
“They’ve got us pinned down. You saw what happened when Kole tried getting through.”
Kole looked up at the mention of his name and shrugged his shoulders.
“What’s the cloud do?” Mara asked, head tilted upward but face covered in stringy hair.
“It’s an eater of worlds. It leaves nothing behind.”
“Will the creatures kill us? Can they kill us?” Samuel asked.
“Death by zombie, eh?” Major asked with a chuckle. “Like running out to a cop and waving a gun in his face. This is the land of suicide.”
“What about the wolves?” Samuel asked, his questions flowing through the floodgate.
Major sat upright and raised his eyebrows. “What about them?”
“Are they gone? Did the cloud get to them already?”
Major shrugged.
“If we could get them here, it might be enough to distract the creatures outside,” Samuel said.
“For what?” Kole asked. “Distract them so we can go where? Do you see the fucking storm brewing out there? I might opt for having my brains eaten instead of what that evil cloud might bring.”
Mara dug her forehead into the heel of her palms.
“I’m not ready to lie down and die,” said Samuel.
“Yeah, well maybe you should be,” replied Kole.
“Is there any rope in this cabin?” Samuel asked.
Major held both palms out. “Haven’t you had enough of swinging from the noose?”
“Listen,” Samuel said. “I’m climbing to the roof and then, with rope and the low-hanging branches, I’m getting out in front of the horde.”
“They’re as far as the eye can see,” said Kole.
“But they’re slow. If I can get out in front, there might be a chance.”
“Better than sitting here,” said Mara.
Major pushed a chair aside and opened a cabinet near the table. He lifted a bucket, and tied to the handle was a coiled rope.
“Must’ve used it for drawing water from a well. The hemp looks rotted and shaky. But it’s all yours if you want it,” Major said.
Samuel stood and grabbed it. He untied the knot from the handle of the bucket and pulled a three-foot section taut. He raised his eyebrows and looked at Major. The old man smiled and looked at Kole. Kole shook his head and went back to circling his finger around a knot in the floorboard, while Mara stood up.
“Looks like they’re a few yards away from the front door. If you get out there quickly, you might be able to shimmy up the corner post and hop onto the roof of the cabin before they close in.”
“Any other suggestions?” Samuel asked, trying to keep the glimmer of hope from overtaking the reality of the situation.
“Yeah, send the bitch first,” said Kole.
Samuel ignored the insult. He set the rope down on the floor and began to pull it through his hands, a foot or two at a time. He noticed several places where the fibers felt weak or had begun to unravel, but not enough for him to consider cutting it and using a shorter piece.
“Please get us out of here,” Mara whispered.
Samuel nodded.
Mara rose up on her toes and placed a kiss on Samuel’s lips. He felt the push of her warm breath on his mouth and the excitement of having a woman so close. But when her lips contacted his, his mind reeled. Conflicting emotions and deep sorrow raced through his body.
“Time is short,” said Major, breaking the spell.
Samuel looked at Mara and did not speak. She sat back down on the chair and crossed her legs. Major stepped between her and Samuel.
“Consider going east. If you can get out in front of the horde, that’s great, but it’s the cloud you’re really racing.”
Major shoved his hand out to Samuel, and the two men shook. Kole waved them off without moving from the floor.
“Get high and do it fast. The longer you stay on the ground, the easier it will be for them to pin you down,” said Major.
“I’ll do my best,” Samuel promised, searching for a more convincing line and not finding it.
Major walked toward the door, followed by Samuel. Mara remained, as did Kole, who
did not bother looking up. The old man placed one hand on the knob and the other on the back of the door. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. After springing them open, he turned to face Samuel.
“Ready?” he asked.
Samuel nodded.
Major turned the squeaky knob with one hand and yanked the plank door open. The front line of the horde turned their empty faces from the ground to the cabin. Mouths hung open in silent screams as the dirt shuffled beneath their feet. Samuel stood, fixed to the cabin floor as the creatures moved toward him. He froze, his mouth turning dry and his heart accelerating in his chest.
“And out you go,” he heard Kole say.
Samuel felt two hands strike his shoulder blades, sending him sprawling to the ground in front of the cabin. He spun around in time to see Kole’s wicked grin disappearing behind the door.
***
The first thing Samuel did was reach down to secure the knife on his hip. He lifted his head and saw the feet moving toward him, sending up clouds of brown dust. Most of them were bare, and many had bones poking through thin skin.
Samuel pushed off the ground and onto his backside. He watched dozens of the horde meander in his direction, arms at their sides and heads cocked in one direction. Their black orbs remained open with an empty stare, as if they felt his presence.
Samuel glanced back at the window of the cabin to see shifting, pale faces behind the greasy film coating the panes. He looked to the right, where a support post held the roof. Samuel stood and gripped the top of the post with both hands. He used his upper body to pull himself toward the roof, using his legs to lock around the pole and prevent a slide back down. Samuel heaved his body onto the mossy, wooden-shake roof, and rolled onto his back before pulling his legs up, too. The formless, silent cloud tumbled in the space where the sky used to be. It looked down on Samuel, and he thought he detected motion from left to right, the cloud heading toward the east to conclude its consummation of the locality. Swirls of deep gray extended out and contracted like oil in water. Before he could lose himself in the shapeless horror of it, he felt the cabin shudder.
Samuel leaned over the edge and gazed out upon a sea of creatures shambling toward the cabin. He watched countless heads with tufts of tangled hair pushing forward like a crowd at a rock concert. They nudged and leaned on each other but never stopped moving forward. He noticed that they did not try to open the door or break the window. They had no concern for those inside, whom the Reversion would swallow whole. The horde did not attempt entry of any kind. They gathered under the support pole, pursuing the one who had left the sanctity of their final resting place, the one living creature attempting to escape the inevitable.
Samuel looked down and watched as hands reached into the air like the filaments of a jellyfish, slim, random movements in an ocean of certain decay. The horde either could not or did not want to climb. Samuel considered the roof his temporary haven and sat down to think. He unfurled the rope and took one end in his hands. He wrapped it around his waist and tied the best knot he could before standing and assessing the trees. A tall oak stood about twenty feet from the edge of the roof, far out of his reach. However, one of its major branches sagged low, angling toward the cabin five feet away. He spun in a circle to verify that this was the only tree even remotely close to the cabin, close enough to attempt what he knew had to be done.
Samuel tied the loose end of the rope into a bulge of knots. If he could toss it over the branch and have it swing back like a pendulum, he might be able to grab it and pull himself on to the low-hanging branch like an adventure-seeker gripping a zip line. He moved as close to the edge as possible, prompting the horde to flow to that side of the cabin. Most kept their heads down like obedient cattle, but several began raising their bony arms, calling to him. He cocked his arm back and let the rope fly. It smacked off the bottom of the trunk and swung low over the heads of the creatures on the ground. They could not react fast enough to grab it, but their shuffling became more rapid, as if they sensed what he was trying to do. He reared back again, and this time, the knotted end cleared the branch, but he missed it when it came swinging back underneath. Samuel yanked at the rope and pulled it back for a third try. Again, he lobbed the rope clear of the branch, and this time, he caught it. Samuel pulled the rope taut, double-checked the knots around his waist, and leapt from the roof with both hands on the rope.
At first, he swung back and forth, his feet kicking in air in a vain attempt to slow his momentum. He closed his eyes and imagined the old, frayed hemp snapping and dropping him ten feet to the ground amidst the undead. Samuel shook his head and cleared his vision. He waited as gravity slowed his swing until the rope rested perpendicular to the ground, suspending him above the horde.
Gravity and physics, my safety net, he thought, thankful that the Reversion had not violated universal laws.
Samuel used his hands to pull himself up the rope until he was within reach of the branch. He felt the burn in his biceps and chest. Samuel had never thought the pull-up bar in his basement was good for much more than a bump on the head when walking underneath it, and now he was thankful for those early-morning workouts that concluded with fifty reps. He clawed the bark until he had enough room to swing his left leg over the branch. Within seconds, he straddled it above the reemerging horde, while the rope created a lazy U shape, dangling between his feet and their heads.
Like a logger, Samuel quickly removed the slack from the rope and shuffled forward fifteen feet until he reached the main trunk of the old tree. He pulled himself up and stood with his feet together, plenty of room to turn and push his back against the trunk. He took a deep breath and let a smile creep across his face. It wasn’t much, but he had made it out of the cabin to a place the horde couldn’t reach.
***
“Because.”
“Because? That’s the best you can come up with?”
“No. It’s the least I can come up with. I don’t owe you or the old man any explanation,” said Kole.
Mara tucked her hands underneath her arms to accentuate the way they crossed her chest.
“You’re a real asshole,” she said to him.
“That’s the best you can come up with?” he asked, mocking her.
Major stared out the window while Mara and Kole faced off. He shook his head and mumbled to himself when he no longer heard Samuel’s feet above.
“He’s off the roof, and the creatures are moving toward that tree.”
Mara and Kole stooped to have a better view, jostling like brother and sister.
“Do you think he’s going to make it?” Mara asked Major.
“Make it where?” Kole asked. “Before you get your panties all wet, consider where we are. I don’t see him—or us for that matter—outrunning that fucking cloud, do you?”
“It might be possible to survive it.”
Kole looked at Major after he spoke and shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
Major sat back and looked into Kole’s eyes. He could see the darkness eating the man from the inside out.
“Like surviving a tornado or a flood. Even though the disaster lays waste to the land, people survive it. Somehow, people always survive it.”
Kole reared back, his fists balled and blood rushing to his face. “I’m done with you. I’m done with your cryptic bullshit. If there is more about this place, us, those fucking creatures, anything. If there is more, I want to hear it now, or I’ll split your fucking head open with my bare fists.”
Mara stepped in front of Kole, her face now inches from Major’s. “Tell us.”
“There are ways to slip out of a Reversion. I know because I’ve done it before,” said Major.
***
Samuel scanned the horizon, above the cabin and as far as he could see in the empty gloom brought by the cloud. He looked toward what he thought was the east, hoping to find a glimmer of ambient light struggling to break through the darkness, but he saw nothing. The shapes of nearby trees s
tood out in relief against the cloud, the leafless branches scratching at the sky with bony fingers. He could see over the Barren and cabins. He thought of Mara. He saw her at the table, sipping a mug of coffee and enjoying the outlook of optimistic youth. He felt a twinge in his chest and pushed his emotions aside.
The horde had reconfigured itself. Half of the closest creatures swayed beneath his tree, no longer looking up or reaching into the sky for him. The other half inside the Barren circled the cabin, standing silent guard and waiting to pounce on Major, Kole, or Mara if they came out.
He thought about those three.
I really don’t know who they are. I can speak with them in dreams. Maybe I’m not concerned about getting them out. Maybe I’ll swing through these trees like Tarzan and make them a distant memory.
As much as he tried, he could not convince himself to abandon them in the cabin.
They are my responsibility now. I’ve got to go back.
Samuel shook the thoughts from his head and focused on the immediate task at hand. He shimmied around the trunk until he was able to climb onto another branch on the opposite side of the tree. This one grew out toward another that was twenty yards away. He looked down at the huddle of creatures and then stepped out, locking his feet behind him, toes down on the surface of the branch while he used his knees to squeeze it between his thighs. Samuel put his chest on the rough bark and inched forward. He had made it halfway across when he made the mistake of looking down.
The creatures had reassembled, following his motion. They shambled along, thirty feet below. Samuel closed his eyes and kept moving until he came to the main trunk of the next tree. He slapped the trunk and let out a victory holler, the only sound wave in the barren landscape. He stood and did another survey of the situation. Although the darkness and the cloud fought over the locality like two mutts over a hunk of meat, he had gained a different perspective. The Barren stretched out a bit behind him, facing west. Samuel thought he could see a faint, blurry area between the edge of the advancing cloud and the black sky. The strip glimmered as if hanging above a bonfire. He watched the shapes break and meld, and wondered what would happen if the cloud swallowed the entire sky, as he thought it would. Beyond the Barren, and as far east as he could see, Samuel spotted another rise, probably a mountain. The peak extended into the blackness as if surrounded by clouds. He strained to see a fine line meandering down the tree line and into the valley at the base of the mountain. Whatever it was, Samuel believed it was proof that something other than the horde had created a path beyond the Barren. He committed as much of the landscape to memory as he could before sitting on the branch and resting. He looked down at the swaying heads of gray flesh and bone beneath him.