by Jason Letts
They followed the Sunfighters’ tracks. Bushes had been trampled. Garbage speckled the ground. Trees here and there had been overturned. All of this evidence told them their march was in vain. There would be no way to save their families when they arrived in Corey Outpost. Some of them felt the frustration eat away at them more than others, and it began to show just as they came to a ring of trees around a shady glade.
“Why are we busting our butts to get home when there’s nothing we can do anyway? We might as well get some rest and put this horrible day behind us,” Will argued. He sat on a tree stump but slipped onto the ground.
“I’d say your logic is about as stable as your seating,” Vern retorted. “We don’t know what we’re going to find when we get there. Maybe Corey can hold them off. At the very least, there’ll be injured who are counting on us to help them.”
Will rolled his eyes.
“If the Specials can’t hold them off then Corey sure won’t be able to,” he said, making Roselyn, who was Corey’s shadow, glare at him.
“Why isn’t the sun setting?” Mary whined, flopping on the shady grass.
“It hasn’t moved since the battle. I noticed it when I was lying on the ground…hurt,” Aoi noted.
“How can the sun not be moving? That’s crazy!” Chucky objected.
“It feels like it’s haunting us from up there,” Gloria mumbled, her oozing hands in her lap.
“It must have been the wave from when the Warlord held up that old Special. Carmichael told me he controls movement, and the Warlord must have exploited that power when he killed him. Just like with Rowland and the metal. But could he really have made the sun stop moving?” Vern wondered.
“It’s not the sun that moves, it’s the Earth. If he stopped the planet from rotating, then it will remain day here forever, and the opposite side of the world will stay night forever,” Mira explained.
“Are you kidding me?” Chucky growled, looking wired and excitable. “I’ve spent enough time on a farm to know that nothing’ll grow without the sun, and you’re saying that’ll happen to a whole half of the world? Everything living here will turn a scorched brown. The weather’ll get messed up. Winter might never come! There’s got to be some way to fix it.”
“Exactly,” Mira agreed. She put a thoughtful hand to her forehead and then ran it through her hair. “I’m guessing the only way to fix it is through the person who did it in the first place, the Warlord. He has some sort of energy, and he uses it to poison the sunlight and make people’s powers burst from their bodies, but that still doesn’t explain how he corrupts people’s minds.”
“Mira, what happened when you talked to him? Did he turn you against us?” Roselyn asked, sitting next to Mary, her hands wrapped around her legs.
Mira remembered the worst of her behavior and rued it. She set her hand on a tree and hung her head in shame.
“He did, or he would have if I hadn’t already lost sight of what was important long before. He has a way of convincing you of what you fear most, boxing you in with those awful things you’ve done and making you believe that’s all you are. It’s all of those fears you can’t stand to be true that he uses against you, but it takes time for him to convince you. He has to talk you into it. There’s nowhere to hide when he shoves your weaknesses and your failures in your face. You either let him destroy everything you believe or turn yourself over to him.
“But then a guard used his power to infect me when he thought I was getting away. I had a vision of my family. It was so strange and confusing, but they were all there, my parents, my sister, and even myself. I watched them and I realized how wrong I’ve been. I’d forgotten I was trying to protect my friendships, my happiness, and those I love, but I robbed you of them before they were really gone. A lot of other strange things happened, like I discovered penicillin and cured the infection. That’s how I healed and woke up.
“But the biggest thing is that I’m so entirely and completely sorry to each and every one of you for what I did to make your lives harder. I don’t want to be the mold that ruins your bread. I don’t want to do anything other than be the caring friend I should’ve always been. I’ll understand if you don’t want me to be leader anymore. I’d even understand it if you didn’t want me around, but that would take from me the only thing I have left, the warmth of your friendship.”
The rest of them remained silent for a moment, pondering her story and looking at Mira in a way they hadn’t in a very long time. The group waited for Vern to speak for them, and Mira bashfully hoped to hear from him too. Vern kept a steady countenance until a big smile broke across his face.
“You still want to be leader? You can have it! I’ve had enough of the decisions and the yapping. Please, you’re welcome to it,” he cheered.
There were plenty of smiles and laughter around their small circle as Vern slid onto the shady grass. There was one among them though who wasn’t as willing to embrace the newfound good mood of the group. Will leaned forward on the tree stump and shook his head, a disgusted grimace on his face.
“Oh, so we’re all just going to put on happy faces and act like everything is OK even after we watched Rowland die today? Yeah, what a great bunch of friends you are!”
“Nice of you to care all of a sudden!” Chucky huffed, getting to his feet and pointing over to Will. “Where was that when Aoi fought away her last breath, or when you suggested we dump Mira’s body and go on without her? I don’t know about you, but right about now I’m glad we didn’t.”
“What?” Mira gasped.
“He didn’t think you’d be worth the trouble. There wasn’t any hope left in him that you would get better. And neither did Mary, for that matter,” Chucky indicted.
“Don’t bring me into this!” Mary snapped.
“Look, it’s fine. Let’s just move on. I can’t blame you for thinking about it after how terrible I was,” Mira submitted.
“But Mucky Chucky’s forgetting the third person who agreed with me, but then again I guess Rowland is already the last thing on anybody’s mind,” Will sniped.
“He didn’t agree with you! He was just asking questions,” Chucky shot back.
“Yeah, and those questions were because he thought I was right,” Will howled.
“Look,” Vern interrupted, stepping in and calming them down. “There’s no one here who doesn’t feel the pain of Rowland’s death. He was a great guy, who had plenty of attitude and enthusiasm, and we won’t ever forget him. I mean, we’ve known him forever. He was my brother in arms. So don’t say nobody cares that he died. Nobody wants to see anybody die.”
Overcome by his own words, Vern’s eyes welled up. He sat on the trunk of an overturned tree and put his face in his hands to weep.
“That’s rich coming from you!” Gloria hissed, scowling and crossing her arms, “after you wanted to see me die!”
Her howling startled Vern, who nearly fell. It now became apparent Gloria’s quiet contentment had really been stewing anger.
“What are you talking about?” Vern shrugged, incensed by the ridiculousness of her statement.
“I heard what you said! Aoi, you shouldn’t have done that. Why did you save her? You should have just let her burn to death!” Gloria mocked.
“Oh, come on! Are you serious? I just meant we could have talked about it and come up with a plan. I didn’t want her to take any unnecessary risks,” Vern defended.
“No, I know what you wanted. You didn’t want me to mess up your little cool kids clique of pretty princesses, zombie freaks, and dimwit dudes. Well, you know what? I won’t!”
Gloria ended her rant and turned to leave when Mira called her back. Gawking, the others watched her storm away.
“Gloria, we’re not going to tell you what to do, but you don’t have to leave. There’s no telling what you’ll run into out there. So you don’t have to go.”
“Judging from history, she’s probably better off without us,” Will remarked.
“Y
ou know, you’re free to join her if you feel that way,” Vern said.
Gloria heard their exchange while passing under a tree and turned back to see if Will would follow, but something rustled in the bushes and she screamed. As if the scream caused it, a thin branch fell from the tree and hit her on the head. She reeled to the side, angrily brushing it away.
“It’s one of them!” she yelled before breaking into a run toward Shadow Mountain to the north. The others, suddenly alert, got to their feet and scanned the bushes where Gloria said she saw something. Some shaking branches startled them, and they couldn’t imagine who or what had followed them.
“What is it? Should we run?” Mary cowered.
But before they could do anything, a creature emerged from the bushes. But it wasn’t a creature at all; it was a chunky boy walking on his feet and hands like an animal. He stood up once they recognized him and he heard their anguished squeals.
“What is it doing here? We have to run,” Roselyn uttered.
The boy, eight or nine years old and wearing tattered rags, kept his big brown eyes on Mira even as the rest of his uncoordinated body meandered aimlessly. He didn’t look angry though, just desperate, watching them from across the small clearing. Mira took a step out toward him, even as the others prepared to run at a moment’s notice.
“Mira, what are you doing?” Vern asked. “For all we know he could tear the world apart.”
“Then it won’t hurt to be nice,” Mira said, but she rolled her ankle on something and hopped, but fortunately she was not injured. Slowly, she kneeled in front of him. As if completely unaware of her presence, he stuck his dirty finger in his nose to pick it. His face twitched, and when he removed his finger blood started to trickle onto his lip. Mira cleared her throat and blinked.
“You followed me?” she guessed, and he nodded slowly.
“Why?”
“Things fall apart,” he said, but Mira thought the answer to her question had more to do with the look he gave her back near the battlefield when she came out of her coma. She had gotten through to him somehow, and that’s why he was drawn to her.
Standing, she put her hand on his shoulder to guide him back to the group. The others shied away, their eyes fixed on the powerful stranger.
“You must be out of your mind, Mira,” Roselyn said.
“He’s going to get us all killed,” Vern added.
“If I kill the weak, who will take on the strong?” the child mumbled. “But you are going to die. That’s what people do, they die.”
“What a ball of sunshine this one is,” Will chuckled.
Mira could tell that nothing so far had dented their skepticism. Still, he seemed so helpless and lost, much like she was not too long ago.
“I know how it looks, but he must be here for a reason,” Mira proposed to the group. “Some things might seem bad, but that’s just because we haven’t figured out how they can be useful yet.”
“Alright,” Vern acquiesced, taking a step alongside Mira and the boy. “If our leader thinks it’s for the best then I can go along with it.”
Sighing and grumbling, it now became apparent to the others that they would also have to live with it. Vern, cringing a bit at the blood that freely trickled to the boy’s chin, kneeled next to him.
“So what’s your name anyway?” he asked.
“What need have I for a name? Won’t be around long enough for it to stick anyway,” he moaned, nodding grimly.
“You’ve got to have a name so we know what to call you. Come on, somebody think of one.”
They all scratched their heads to create a name that would fit this ratty little morbid kid.
“Peabody Julius the Third,” Roselyn suggested.
“Mr. Mighty Bologna,” Aoi chuckled.
“Goober,” Chucky said. “A snot-nosed runt like that? Gotta call him Goober.”
“OK, Goober it is,” Vern decided, turning to the boy. “Will you respond to that?”
“I only respond to our one inevitable end,” Goober moped.
“Great,” Vern sighed, waving his hands at him in some kind of spontaneous anointment.
“How am I supposed to sleep with him around, or having the sunlight on all night? I’m still so tired,” Mary complained. She had sprawled on the ground, her head on her bag. As tired as they all were, the sun still hung overhead as if it were midday.
“Don’t we have to get home?” Chucky reminded them. “My family has no idea they’re about to get ambushed by the whole of the Sunfighter’s army. And we all remember how good the town’s defenses are.”
“You’re right,” Mira agreed, “but there’s no way we’ll be able to catch up. They’re way ahead and we still have days to walk. We’d better get some rest while we have shade. I can sit watch first. I feel like I’ve slept for weeks.”
“Just make sure he doesn’t do anything weird,” Mary pleaded, pulling her hood over her head and rolling onto her side. The rest of them hunkered down too, trying to make themselves comfortable enough to get a smidgeon of rest. Once everyone headed to sleep, Mira had only the company of Goober, who seemed not to need any rest.
She kept her eyes on him as he ogled her sleeping companions. A little of the same hungry fixation flickered onto his face, and she wondered if she’d made a mistake allowing him to stay. She reasoned it would be better to have him right there next to her instead of sneaking around nearby where they couldn’t see him. The blood on his face had dried and turned crusty. Goober didn’t seem to notice.
The farther west they went, the more they dreaded what they would find when they returned home. The mountain ridge had just come into view, and it wouldn’t be more than a day until they found out what happened when the Sunfighter army swarmed Corey Outpost.
Most of them remained pensive and irritable, and any number of things could have been the cause, losing Rowland, their new and disturbing companion, or the images of slain family members that their imaginations constructed.
Hardly a minute went by when they didn’t see some remnant the despicable horde left behind. Whether it was garbage, bones, bodies, or rags, it formed a constant reminder of the cause of their troubles. Frowning, Vern stepped over an empty sack and looked over at Mira, whose face had the same determination it did before but none of its anger and hatred.
“Mira, I think any other survivors would be returning to Darmen. I know we’ve got to return home and do anything we can to help, but if we keep following the Sunfighters, what are we going to do when we catch up?” Vern asked.
“We can’t hope to beat them. There are still thousands,” Aoi added. “I fear nothing will be left of Corey Outpost when we get there.”
“We don’t know what’s waiting for us over the mountains, but we’ll go there because we have a responsibility to those we love. I keep thinking about how I was the last time I spoke to my parents. It makes me ill, and I just hope to see them safe so I can apologize.”
They kept looking over the mountains at the horizon, expecting to see smoke rise from their home, but nothing but blue sky presented itself to them.
“Can I ask you something, Mira?” Vern went on. “Back there in the battle, how did you know your sister wouldn’t kill you if you didn’t fight her? I thought she was going to, but then again I swore you’d fight her too.”
Mira held her hand to her chest and cast her eyes down to the ground.
“I didn’t know what she would do. I only knew she was my family whether she believed it or not. How could she ever see there’s a life of peace and contentment waiting for her if I don’t show her it’s there?” Mira said.
“You don’t really think she could change, do you? That’s been her life, fighting, and now they’re on the brink of achieving everything they ever wanted. Do you think she’ll just walk away from that?” Vern asked, incredulous.
“Even that much success can’t cover the unsatisfying feelings at the bottom of that kind of life,” Aoi observed.
“Yes, Aoi. I
agree.” Mira added. “I think deep down everyone would rather lead a life of harmony and contentment, and sometimes all those who don’t have it need is the chance to choose it. A second chance, a reason to start anew, those are more powerful weapons than anything else we could carry.”
“What about the Warlord?” Chucky spoke up. “Does even he deserve a second chance?”
Mira thought for a moment before answering.
“He too deserves our help, but he won’t know he needs it until we stop him. He believes he’s been wronged by the world and his war is an act of divine retribution. But he can’t see that his wound will never heal by causing suffering in others. His war apparatus, his army, even his egotistical delusions all distract him from his own chronic pain.”
“You really have changed,” Vern smiled, and Mira grinned back at him.
“If it’s not him, it’ll just be somebody else.”
The sudden voice from behind caught them off guard.
“What?” Vern asked, looking back and discovering Goober waddling along behind them.
“The natural movement of humanity is war,” the boy went on. “As long as there are people, they will never stop preying on each other. Any horror you can imagine, we will commit. And when all those have been exhausted, we’ll invent some more.”
Goober grimaced at the ground, dreary apathy hanging from his sagging face. Most of the others had tried to ignore him, but everything that happened around them made his gloomy thoughts hard to refute.
“We can find a way to end this war,” Mira declared. “Then people will have the freedom to live without fear of what the next day will bring. We can teach those that will listen, show those that don’t believe, and stop those that perpetuate violence.”
Her words seemed hopelessly idealistic. There didn’t seem to be anything they could do to pull the course of history out of its disastrous spiral into destruction.
“But what impact could we possibly have? There are only seven of us. Sorry, but you don’t count,” Vern said, directing his last comment to Goober.
“It’s unavoidable,” the boy muttered, but Mira paid no attention. She stared off to the mountains before her, looking into them with what seemed to be the last of her hope.