Here Lies Love

by Dan Thompson

  “Most people get their food from the market, by exchanging or trading usually. It’s rather complicated, which is why Tristan handles that side of things. The stall holders are the wealthiest people around. I mean essentially all they are, are farmers. Farmers that grow their own produce and sell it to the people. I don’t know if it is true, but I heard they descend from a long line of farmers. But farmers need to eat too. They spend their tokens on other stalls. They can’t grow everything.

  “You know, I’ve read about farming in books. Before The Sun left, farmers could grow all kind of foods, but received very little for their hard work. Huge conglomerates and supermarkets took advantage. Ain’t it funny how now The Sun has left, farmers were suddenly elevated to the top. They rule the roost as it were.”

  Abbey stared into the bottom of her cup. Black grains swirled in the dregs that were left. “My gran talked of The Sun. She remembered it from her own childhood. I miss her and her stories. Things would be different for me if she was still around.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ryan put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s rubbish how we all die, isn’t it? I mean that I understand. My mum died when I was much younger, which left me all alone. There was no one else. I couldn’t even give her a fitting obsequy – I was far too young.” He hung his head in shame.

  “You weren’t to blame,” Abbey said softly. “My father lit the pyre for my gran’s obsequy. If he wasn’t around, I wouldn’t have known what to do either.”

  Both of them sat for a few minutes, remembering the dead that once were so full of life. Abbey’s gran was a sturdy woman who never once looked frail, her grey hair always long and plaited. The moment she walked into the kitchenette and discovered her gran’s body slumped on the ground, Abbey’s world came crashing down around her. Despite the harsh world in which they lived, life was always made bearable by her gran’s bubbly, positive personality and approach to life. On that day, Abbey’s own Sun had died, its light now a distant memory.

  Abbey closed her eyes to suppress the tears. If she concentrated hard enough, she could just about hear her gran’s high-pitched laughter, but it was as if they were standing at opposite ends of a tunnel, her gran’s mirth an echo that bounced all the way to Abbey’s straining ear.

  Abbey now preferred silence. Silence meant Stefan was asleep. Noise, footsteps, screams gave birth to fear, the torture of the unknown horrors heading their way. In this instance, silence signified awkwardness and discomfiture. Memories of her gran had disrupted her train of thought and she’d lost the questions she’d had for Ryan into the abyss of her mind. She was curious to know when Tristan would be back, but her wavering confidence thought against asking in case it became too obvious that he wasn’t too far from her thoughts.

  Ryan was obviously still thinking about his mother. She knew his pain. Not only had she lost her gran, but her mother too. Was death all she’d known? Though she couldn’t remember what her mum was like, not like the memories she cherished of her gran. Her mum had died in childbirth. Sacrificing herself for the life of her daughter. Abbey didn’t know how old her mum was, how tall she was, her eye colour, even her voice. She’d put angelic, pure creations into her mind to answer any of those nagging questions, but deep down she knew it was all fictitious. Scenes of exultation, of jubilant hugs and joyous walks weren’t real. Abbey knew it was all falderal nonsense, but it filled the void all the same.

  Ryan coughed, which brought her out of her own private thoughts. Abbey looked into her mug of tea and realised it was all gone. She hadn’t even realised she had drank it all.

  “That brew was delicious,” she said.

  “Yeah, it was pretty good. I wouldn’t want to blow my own trumpet mind you,” Ryan guffawed. Abbey laughed at his whimsical humour, diffing him on the arm in playful gesture.

  “Can I ask you something? But promise me you won’t laugh!” Abbey said, fumbling with the cup.

  “This should be good,” Ryan giggled.

  “No, I mean it. Please.”

  “Ok ok, what is it?”

  “How does food grow? You know, fruit and vegetables? My gran always said that The Sun was responsible for their delicious produce. Well, we don’t have The Sun anymore, do we?”

  “Well, it’s a combination of things really. I guess the way to look at it, without going really scientific, is down to the blue light. We weren’t taught these things, we had to learn them for ourselves. Books are great for that sort of thing. And since we live in a school, well we have free access to books.

  “We look after the soil really well. I take most of the credit mind. Tristan pretends to know what he is doing. I read about different coloured lights being responsible for mimicking The Sun, and since the plants used less energy in cooling themselves from The Sun’s direct light, then they had more energy to focus on growin’. All sources of light are made up of wavelengths – think of them as being invisible travelling lines of energy. The blue haze emits these wavelengths onto the plants, which in turn allow them to store the energy and use that to grow.”

  “It all sounds complicated. I’m not sure I understand.” Abbey shook her head.

  “It is complicated and I probably don’t know all of what goes on. Of course there are so many plants and fruits that don’t grown anymore because they did need The Sun. It is important to keep the growing conditions moist. Water also provides life you know, and water can provide some of the nutrients that The Sun did.”

  Abbey gave Ryan a warm smile to thank him for not laughing at her apparent lack of education. She wished she could have been taught some of these things.

  In the distance, growing ever louder, a low hum caught their attention. Abbey swirled around, trying to catch where it was coming from. Ryan looked up into the blue haze. It was as if a swarm of wasps, thousands of them, were homing in on the pair. The hair on Abbey’s forearms stood to attention, goosebumps making her shiver. What could it be? The din escalated and it turned from a low grumble into a deafening shriek, almost robotic and mechanical. Abbey turned to Ryan for an explanation, but he too was apparently bewildered.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Ryan articulated Abbey’s thoughts, “and before you ask, no. I don’t have a clue what it is.”

  “Maybe we should go inside?” Abbey gestured, manoeuvring herself towards the open doors that led back into their living space. If Ryan didn’t know what the dreadful clamour was, then it must be something serious. Not that barricading themselves inside would guarantee safety. How could they protect themselves from an, as of yet, invisible threat? Abbey’s instincts told her however that fleeing within the building was the best solution open to them.

  Ryan nodded in agreement and headed for the door. Just as he neared her however, the screeching noise evolved into a klaxon, a warning alarm indicating something was definitely not right. Abbey grew anxious with each passing second, and knowing that Tristan was still outside somewhere was haunting her.

  “What about Tristan?”

  “He can handle himself, trust me.”

  The blue haze became a flurry of colours, all shades of blue dissolving into another, and another. Misty blue, ceil, periwinkle, cobalt. It cast unusual shadows and obscured gloominess around the two of them, which made mundane objects such as their mugs look entirely different. As the noise increased in both pitch and tempo, so as it was almost deafening, the blue haze coruscated, emitting sharp flashes of itself. The darkness took on a dance with the blue haze, taking over as the blue hue went out. Abbey couldn’t get a focus on anything. Something was up with Ryan. His body wriggled as the blue haze flashed him up. He groaned and choked, which made Abbey extremely scared.

  “Ryan!” she screamed. She ran over to him, but he collapsed onto the ground, writhing around, shaking uncontrollably. In an instant, the coruscating had stopped, the blue haze returning with its constant dull illumination.

  Abbey looked down. Ryan was having a fit and his body jerked in all directions. It looked unnatural and bloodcurdlin
g to see him. She tried to hold him steady, but he was strong, hurting her as he rolled and spasmed. Abbey could feel his muscles twitching and vibrating, which made her palms and fingers recoil in a bilious sort of frisson. His eyes were cold, his stare frozen and unblinking.

  Abbey told herself to keep calm, although deep inside she was panicking; trembling with a cold sweat. She felt ill, but she knew she had to compose herself. Her arm had become stiff and uncomfortable again as she tried to hold Ryan down – just when she really needed it not to be. She awkwardly switched hands, but his constant thrashing and twitching was terrifying. An awful, gurgling chilled her spine, it was as if Ryan was possessed by terrors of the night; dark, evil beings from yarns told to her by her gran.

  A trickle of red slipped between the gaps in Ryan’s tightly clasped teeth. Blood. Blood? It was dark against the harsh blue haze, but the unmistakable life force spurred Abbey into action.

  Using her hurt arm, Abbey wrenched at the lad’s mouth, whilst kneeling down on top of him in a feeble attempt to keep him from causing himself more damage. Ryan’s mouth remained firmly closed. Abbey screamed with frustration, but she wasn’t ready to give in. Not just yet. Both Tristan and Ryan had rescued her from the depths of the abandoned school. Damn, Ryan had surely saved her life from the fierce unpredictable wind.

  Clawing at his teeth with her nails was a strange, animalistic sensation; nail against bone, such an alien combination. Ryan’s blood stained her fingers an oily shade of scarlet and his burbling became more intense, but Abbey dug deeper. Yes. His mouth opened, which released his tongue free. Abbey could clearly see where he had bitten into it, but with him still in a state of fitting, there nothing she could do to stem the bleeding.

  The thought to turn him onto his side to stop the blood running down his throat suddenly came to her. She lifted her weight off him slightly, getting ready to anchor his body with her stained hands, but as she did so, Ryan’s fit raged in intensity.

  His head came up off the ground and slammed back down, a sickening crack hitting Abbey’s ears like a drum. In an instant, Ryan stopped throwing around and lay perfectly still. All quiet.

  “Ryan?” Abbey rocked him.

  No response.

  “Ryan?” she tried again.

  His chest wasn’t moving. Nothing was. Was he still breathing? She placed her ear over his mouth and held her breath, feeling her own heartbeat pound inside her head like a tension headache, but no awareness of air or breath came from Ryan’s limp body.

  “Ryan!” she screamed, hitting his body as if it was a pillow.

  Abbey looked up into the sky, the blue haze a labyrinth of fog and shadows. What was she to do? Why had it flickered, as if broken, causing this whole disarray? Abbey’s eyes caught a glimpse of light in the mass of cobalt. A twinkling light – a glimmer of hope perchance? She squinted to keep her focus, her vision threatening to be dazzled by the kaleidoscope swirl of haze. The blinking luminescence ignited a fire within her; a candle of love. Love for life. Love for the amity of companionship. Love for her fellow man.

  The candle was newly born, but it burned strong, sending a rush of warmth and motivated confidence. Its power fuelled her spirit.

  Abbey swallowed down any second thoughts or doubts her mind was casting on her, trying to dampen the flame, and moved closer to Ryan’s still head. Inhaling as much air as she could fit into her lungs, she moved closer, pinched his nose and exhaled. She watched in reverence as Ryan’s chest inflated and expanded … but it fell flat seconds later. The tinny tang of blood made her lips quiver. She spat the dribble of it out, disgusted with herself for being bothered by it in the first place. Ryan’s life hung in the balance – she couldn’t stop now.

  Abbey began to feel dizzy the more and more times she gave Ryan breath. Her head felt confused, uncertain of whether the drama unfolding in front of her was a dream. Why wasn’t it working? She wasn’t convinced that she was performing it properly, extemporising it any way she thought possible.

  “Abbey! What’s going on?” Tristan’s voice echoed behind her.

  She didn’t turn to acknowledge him, she just kept on inhaling and exhaling into Ryan’s blueing lips – she didn’t have time for an explanation. Ryan didn’t have time. Tristan approached her, she could feel his eyes gazing down at her, perplexed.

  “What the hell happened?” Tristan said, flopping himself down beside them. Abbey eyed him sideways as she exhaled another breath into Ryan’s mouth. Isn’t it bloody obvious?

  “He …. the light … flash …” she couldn’t get her words out. The world was spinning around her and if she closed her eyes, the light-headedness reached a point where she thought she would either pass out, or retch, one of the two. “Just help.”

  “You’re doing great, Abbey. But it needs to circulate.” Tristan urged her to continue whilst he pushed down on Ryan’s chest. Tristan was being quite vigorous as he forced his palms down, so much so that Abbey feared her may break a rib. Why wasn’t it working?

  Moments before she was about to stop through exhaustion, Ryan’s spat out a slobber of pink blood. Abbey gasped as Ryan rolled onto his side, still unconscious, but breathing. He was alive. They had done it. She had done it. Ryan’s forehead was drenched in sweat, all clammy and ailing.

  “Abbey, what the hell happened?” Tristan called to her.

  “Stay with him. I’ll be back in minute.”

  “Abbey!”

  She bounced up, ignoring the rush of wooziness that flooded her head and ran back inside. As she approached Ryan’s bed, she ripped and tore at the fabric on one of the blankets, before rushing over to the stove where Ryan had boiled the water to make the tea. The cloudy liquid inside was lukewarm now, but that was what Abbey was betting on. The tea was soothing and palliative to Abbey’s deep rooted fear, and she was hoping now that it would have similar effects on Ryan. She soaked the cloth in the mixture and sprinted as fast she could back to Ryan’s side.

  The cloth was dripping onto her clothes, but a sense of great urgency and care had taken over. Abbey ignored Tristan’s inquisitive stares and folded up the cloth and placed it on Ryan’s forehead. She hoped that the poultice would heal.

  “Abbey.”

  “Not now,” she replied as calmly as she. “Let’s just get Ryan through this.”

  Tristan nodded and Abbey noticed the flecks of gold running through his hair sparkle in the blue haze. She knew she would have to face him, try and articulate what had happened with Ryan, but she was clueless as where to begin. Would she have to talk to him about catching him in the shower? No, she thought. That was trivial, it was now all about Ryan.

  Chapter Nine. Moonshine

  As Tristan carefully and methodically carried Ryan inside to sleep, Abbey searched the skies for that twinkling light. It had vanished, died rather. No longer there to lend its hope and mettle. She sighed, putting her heavy head in her hands, wondering why the world was continuously messing with her. Was she just one pawn amongst thousands more, upon a vast and colossal sized chess board being played with by deities in the sky? In the last five days or so, more had happened in Abbey’s life than every other day in her life put together.

  If only she could change its course, but Abbey knew that destiny and fate were unruly. She pressed her back against the rough brick wall behind her. It was cool to the touch and it felt somewhat damp without it actually being wet. She wondered what her gran would do if it she was in this drama fuelled, cruel situation. Abbey pulled all her hair over one shoulder, folded her arms and rubbed them. She knew her gran would never have been in her position. She was too strong a woman to allow a monster like Stefan defile her.

  Tristan quietly stepped out into the yard, pulling the doors closed behind him.

  “Is he OK?” Abbey asked.

  “He still hasn’t come round, but I think with a little bed rest, he’ll be alright. The bandage you put around his head seems to be doing the trick. You saved his life, you know,” Tristan smiled warmly in her
direction, tiptoeing delicately over the concrete.

  “I’m sure I didn’t,” Abbey said, hiding her self-conscious smile behind her sleeves. “I had no idea what I was doing. I was making it up as I went along. After he started fitting, I couldn’t leave him to it.”

  “You’re too modest, Abbey. He’ll be in your debt after this, you mark my words.”

  Abbey shuffled uncomfortably. “Oh no, no, no, no. If I did save his life, then we’d be even. He saved me from that severe wind attack. Without him, I’d be long gone by now; lying in a frozen state somewhere, dead. No obsequy for me.”

  “You don’t handle praise very well, do you?” Tristan chuckled inwardly, throwing himself down next to her. Their shoulders touched, which sent tiny shockwaves all throughout Abbey’s body. They tickled and ached all at the same time and as she bit her lower lip, she felt herself slipping into emotions that were even more unfamiliar to her: thrill, a flutter of excitement that made her want to cross boundaries. Her life at home had been more of an ascetic routine; she knew her place inside the dreary, but safe hierarchy. Now a carnal temptation was alluring her to a precipice of no return. Abbey knew however, that towards the crag, a lascivious memory was haunting her, threatening to stand in her way. It was a nightmare alive in her as she was awake, stirring up colourful demons of hate and scepticism. How was she going to be able to rid that monster from her body, his germs still infecting her very being into the unfathomable depths of her core?

  “What – what was wrong with him? Ryan that is,” Abbey said quickly, steering the conversation away from herself. “It was the light wasn’t it? When it flickered, that was when it all started.”

  “Yeah,” Tristan heaved a sigh, “I guessed that to be the case. As soon as it happened, I left our stuff I’d got from the market and sprinted here as fast as I could. Ryan’s epileptic.”