by Maaja Wentz
He ran a thumb over Lynette’s cheek and gave her a smile of encouragement. The Entity’s rootlets were nearly surfacing. He could hear them worming up with a high-pitched burble that echoed in his mind. She would try to fight when they first embraced her, but Roberto would calm her and hold her still. He smoothed her hair, then lay on the leaves, so close to her warmth, he felt almost alive.
Memories of Lynette dancing filled his mind in defiance of the Entity, but in vain. There was no resisting the thoughts and commands flooding into Roberto’s head.
How different were his prospects now, compared to boyhood pleasures and college expectations. His parents had sent him to uncover the town’s mystical secrets and his abuela had made him promise to stay true to his upbringing, no matter what happened.
Such promises belonged to another time. He had become part of the Entity, and now Lynette would join him in its power.
Hair-like roots poked up through the leaves, expanding and fattening as they wormed into the air. Roberto held her tight. “Don’t be afraid. It’ll be over soon.”
And we shall be united forever.
CLOSER
The Entity could feel a new stream of nutrients trickling, like the memory of chicken fat dripping down the Professor’s chin. The root hairs grew faster now, attracted to new sustenance, bringing news and organization, expanding networks, and linking consciousnesses. It was almost time.
But life cannot crystallize when there are elements still missing. As Romeo-brain lay down beside Juliet-brain, the Professor’s thoughts echoed through the collective. Would this be enough vital essence, enough synapse and gray matter to reanimate the Entity for good?
ENTITY RISING
Lynette awoke in another world.
It’s so dark here, and so crowded.
Don’t worry Querida, I’m still here.
The Professor’s voice ran through her like thoughts in her own head. Every wish and desire, every hope and memory, every fatty sheath and delicious neuron has become one with the Entity.
It feels like snakes moving around me, Lynette thought, and the others thought it too. She heard their voices around her and inside her.
Who are these people? Are we dead?
I’m still holding your hand.
She heard Roberto’s voice but could no longer feel him.
Where is my body? Why can’t I move? She wanted to run away but couldn’t. She felt herself spreading through the ground like the roots of a tree, her head buzzing with voices.
Querida, don’t panic. We will have a body again. We will move across the Earth more powerful than before.
Roberto’s promises didn’t reassure her, especially when the Professor’s voice exclaimed: The Entity is rising!
FREE THE NINJAS
Drake reached the residence. He flipped the lid and finished his java in eight gulps. Campus looked like an action director’s psychedelic nightmare. He could almost hear the trailer voiceover in his head. In a world gone insane . . .
Tonya had tried to warn them. Unbidden, her image came into his mind. She had a face to entice the camera, flawless skin, prominent cheekbones, and angel lips; that is, if she wasn’t staring and drooling like a zombie.
With a pang of guilt, he regretted not stopping her last night. She had made him promise to stay out of the cemetery, but he shouldn’t have listened. He raced up to the room to get his car keys. Inside, he grabbed a coat and a blanket in case she was cold when he found her. He tried calling.
Tonya didn’t answer. Maybe she was mad after last night. Priya didn’t answer either. He texted them both to call and let him know they were okay. In the meantime, he would go out and look for them.
Drake looked out the residence window. The courtyard was filled with slow-shuffling students, their mouths and faces stained with food. Had they all been at the cemetery last night? It was hard to tell. Tonya went there last night to stop them. It looked like she hadn’t been successful. He had to see her and reassure himself that now she wasn’t shambling mindlessly like the rest. He headed to Tonya and Priya’s residence.
He took the stairs two at a time to the third floor and banged on Tonya’s door. No answer. Could she be passed out inside like Professor Rudolph? It felt weird breaking into someone’s room, but this was an emergency. Drake pulled out his student card and slid it between the door and the frame to open it.
Inside, it wasn’t hard to tell which stuff was Tonya’s. Lynette’s bedspread was red, spangled with pink and white hearts. Tonya’s was simpler, striped in shades of gold and blue. Lynette had pop star posters and a hot firemen calendar on the wall above her bed. Tonya had one large print, Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss.”
Drake shuffled the papers on the little desk and looked for a phone book or a scratch pad or a note on the corkboard, but whatever numbers and addresses Tonya had, were probably saved on her phone. He thought of trying her laptop but that would be creepy. Instead, he called Zain.
“Help me find Tonya and Priya?”
“Not now. I’ll miss the apocalypse.”
“They’re not answering and Tonya’s not in her room.”
“Check Priya’s room in case they’re together,” said Zain.
“After last night, I doubt they’re on speaking terms.”
“They’re smart girls. They probably drove Priya’s car out of town by now.”
“Call me if you see them.” Clearly Zain wasn’t going to help.
Drake checked the common room, but avoided the cafeteria and courtyard which were overrun with food-obsessed students. He phoned the hospital, campus police, and the OPP, but got busy signals. Apparently, anarchy clogged up the phone lines.
That left the cemetery, the one place he didn’t want to find her. If she was there, the sooner he got her out the better. From what he’d seen in the cafeteria, the campus police were no help, but he trusted his friends.
Drake admired the Ninjas’ scrappy discipline. He also knew them. If any of them started acting funny, he would notice—a thought which filled him with dread. The Ninjas had helped mount cameras in the cemetery and attended Priya’s opening. Could they still be clear-eyed and healthy? Zain’s enthusiasm in the cafeteria was suspicious. Recording during a riot was something a journalist would do, but Zain was no journalist. Was his coolly detached attitude professional, or a sign of infection?
Drake sent the Ninjas a message to look for Tonya, Priya, and Zain, and report on how they seemed. We have to stick together to survive.
Responses came in almost immediately.
I’m on it.
Will report ASAP.
I’ll send you a pic from out my window.
At his call, Drake imagined Ninjas springing out of bed, donning black pants and crew shirts as they grabbed smartphones or hoisted cameras to begin surveillance.
The feed of pics they sent Drake was not encouraging. All the residence cafeterias had erupted into food riots.
Get off campus, Drake texted back. It’s not safe.
The Ninjas left by bike, bus, and car, sending Drake footage and pics of the chaos they passed on their way out of town. People pigged out in parks. Squabbles and fights erupted in doughnut shops. Altercations spilled into the parking lots of nice restaurants. Formerly genteel tea shops devolved into mobs of grannies wielding purses like clubs. As the feeding frenzy spread, bakeries became battlefields, with cream pie shells exploding overhead.
Drake tried to calculate the scale of the outbreak. Had all these townsfolk caught their affliction in the cemetery? Tonya seemed sure of her theory but whether it started in the cemetery or not, eating hysteria was sweeping through town. Worse yet, some Ninjas hadn’t responded. Were they infected?
He sent a final text to the Ninjas: Abort! Abort! Forget sending pics. Leave town as fast as you can and don’t come back until I say it’s safe.
Enough surveillance. He had his answers. Tonya and Priya were nowhere to be seen and the disease had spread past campus into Loon Lake. He would sea
rch for the girls himself.
FLAMES
Tonya stood in the cornfield, trapped by the white-haired man. Over his shoulder, a fist-sized fireball floated and bobbed, reminding her of how the shop was wrecked. He didn’t speak, apparently content to stare at her as if she was the freak.
“Do you know Donna?” She wanted to know how many enemies opposed her.
“Go.” He pointed back across the field to where the strange farmer was waiting in his station wagon. Tonya’s mind swam with questions. Did this man know where her parents were? Were they still alive? What did he want from her?
“Move.” The fireball glowed a little brighter.
Tonya moved. She didn’t believe he was bringing her to Aunt Helen, but she feared he would kill her if she didn’t cooperate.
“Did you text me from Helen’s phone?” she asked, not daring to look back.
“Head for the car. I’m right behind you.”
He needn’t remind her. As she went, the fireball warmed her neck and singed her if she slowed down. Compared to the flaming death ball above her head, getting into the car with the creepy farmer and his hound suddenly didn’t seem so bad.
Walking back through the cornfield, her toes kept catching on furrows. She stumbled.
“Look where you’re going!”
She scanned the field for an escape route. “What do you want me for?” And who was he?
“Hurry up. We’re almost there.”
They reached the road. “I can’t believe you’re letting that thing drive the car.”
“Get in.” He gestured for her to take the passenger’s seat, with the dog.
She watched the ball of fire fly to him, shrinking to marble size as it hovered over his outstretched palm. She got in. He climbed in behind her. “Try anything and I’ll send my fiery friend into your ear.”
Tonya sat very upright, eyes on the road. “Where are you taking me?”
Her ear burned. She jerked her head away from the heat. Foul smoke caught in her throat and she coughed, clamping a hand over her blistered ear. Tendrils of hair fell away, leaving ashes on her fingers.
“Any more questions?”
BRING A BAT
Since the cafeteria riot, Drake was wary of the other students. Zain wasn’t responding to texts or calls so he decided to go back and retrieve his friend when an OPP cruiser pulled onto the grass in the courtyard, right in Drake’s path. There were huge speakers mounted on the trailer it was towing. Fire trucks drove up next, parking on the drive that encircled the campus. Next, police vans pulled into the residence parking lot, disgorging police in riot gear.
They moved with athletic grace, wielding shields, batons, helmets. It was spooky. All those trained professionals rushing to encircle the campus, but making almost no sound, if you didn’t count the static of their walkie-talkies.
Drake noticed firemen lifting hoses. They advanced in a line, edging toward the cafeteria doors. Did Zain get out? Drake had to check before his friend got arrested or worse—the water ruined his camera!
As he raced the firefighters to the cafeteria, Drake heard a shrill whining above. In the sky, flitting and hovering like a giant dragonfly came a police drone. What footage! If he survived, he must buy a drone for the Ninjas.
Near the doors, Drake strained to see Zain through the tinted glass. The firefighters at Drake’s back forced him into the crowded part of the lawn. He elbowed his way through shambling students muttering “pancakes” under their breath. Would they attack him? At least they weren’t saying “brains.”
Drake pushed on until an accidental shove caused one shambler to turn around and aim icy eyes right at him. A couple grabbed his clothes while a third shoved chilly hands into his pockets and started rummaging.
“Food! Give! Food!”
He turned out his pockets, but they wouldn’t let go. Breaking free, Drake ran, dodging quickly but careful not to touch them again, for fear of attracting more hungry attention.
“Food!” roared the crowd. Drake didn’t slow down. He had to get Zain out. Riding a wave of students rushing the cafeteria, he was carried to the door. Their dead eyes and the drool coming from their mouths left no doubt. They were infected, and they were taking him with them.
The flash of sunlight off a camera lens helped him spot Zain, on the opposite side of campus near the Athletic Center. That put him well outside the ring of police and their riot shields on the west side of campus. Drake tried to resist as the authorities backed students into the cafeteria bit by bit.
“Zain!” He waved and shouted, but Zain was too far away to hear. As Drake reached for his cell to contact his friend, an impossibly loud sound flattened the crowd. He found himself on the ground, ears ringing. Who knew sound could knock you over? He looked for the source.
A uniformed officer stood on the back of the speaker truck wearing orange ear muffs. The unbearable sound had come from his enormous speakers.
“Test. Test. Test.” The sound diminished but still sent people cowering, holding their ears as the officer lowered the volume. When he spoke again it was bearable:
“There is an epidemic in Loon Lake. Do not panic. Stay on campus. Food and supplies will be provided. Report directly to the health center at the first sign of unreasonable hunger. The medical staff will give you directions. Follow them exactly. The government is looking for a cure but, in the meantime, no one may leave. Loon Lake is under quarantine, and this quarantine will be maintained by force if necessary.”
Drake felt his phone vibrate. Zain’s picture popped up on the display. Drake answered but his ears were so affected he couldn’t hear anything.
“Switch to text,” he shouted.
Zain: What is this, North Korea? They hit us with the sound cannon.
Drake: Are you okay?
Zain: Yeah, but students are passed out like it’s New Year’s Eve. Where are you?
Drake: I’m near Mackenzie Cafeteria, on the other side of campus. Are you still recording?
Zain: Hid camera, now using phone in case cops take it.
The whole time they were texting, Drake was working his way through the crowd toward his friend. He reached the ring of police officers surrounding the residences and looked the nearest in the eye. “I’m not infected. Look at me.” He held up his hands in surrender.
“We have orders to contain all students.”
“Sure, sick students, but if I stay here, how do you know I won’t get infected too?”
“Nobody gets past this point.”
“What, forever?”
“Stop arguing.”
“Or what?” Drake kept his voice very steady.
“I have my orders.”
“I don’t understand. Why quarantine the dorms on campus? What about the grad student building on the other side of the lake? What about the students renting rooms in town? Are you going to quarantine them too?”
“Maybe.”
“Just let me cross the lawn. I promise not to leave town.” Drake tried to get around him.
The officer moved to block his path. Shifting the club into his left hand, he pulled out a Taser.
“Okay, I’m staying,” Drake retreated into the crowd. Mingling until he was lost to view, he headed for a different part of the line, in search of a friendlier cop.
The second officer pulled his Taser without even pausing to speak. There was no way to reason with these guys.
Speaking loudly, Drake gathered a group of slobbering students around him and edged toward a point where the line of cops was spread further apart.
Pointing dramatically, he shouted, “Hey, that cop has donuts!”
While the pastry-crazed students mobbed the cop, Drake used the diversion to slip through the line and run to Zain.
“I can’t believe how fast they came.” Zain spoke, phone in hand, still recording the commotion. “One minute there’s a little food fight in the cafeteria, and the next . . .”
“It’s like somebody tipped them off,” said
Drake. “In zombie movies, the cops never win.”
“Right. They never get a quarantine in place before humanity starts turning into foot-dragging scavengers.”
“I can’t believe they got it right, in Loon Lake,” said Drake.
“Why not? The Provincial Police might watch horror movies for training.”
“What?”
“Disaster management, the singularity, alien invasion. Cops have to be ready for anything.” Zain’s eyes glowed with excitement.
“You do know horror movies aren’t real, right?”
“Sure about that? This is the biggest zombie outbreak ever.”
“Except nobody’s trying to eat our brains,” said Drake.
“I could kill a steak though, couldn’t you?” Zain’s mouth went slack and his eyes went dead. “Something landed on your shoulder. Turn around and let me look.”
“No!” Drake held his hands in front of him.
“Just kidding. I’m not infected.”
“Good, but if I see food in your hair, or cheeseburgers in your eyes, I’m cutting your head off.”
Zain shrugged. “What are friends for?”
“I need to make sure Tonya and Priya are okay. Come for the drive?”
“I’ll bring a baseball bat and the camera,” said Zain. “If we make it out alive, we’re gonna be famous.”
COLLATERAL DAMAGE
Tonya watched the corn field shrinking through the back window of her kidnapper’s car. Beside her, cows and telephone poles blurred past. She remembered the farmer reading her thoughts and speaking in her head. The white-haired man acted like he was in charge, but the farmer held power too. She sensed so much loose magic in the car, it was hard to tell where the energy was coming from.
“Well Len, how do we do this?” The farmer leaned on the steering wheel.
“Just get us there.” Len sat behind Tonya. He must be the one responsible for the magical fire in her aunt’s store. How many fireballs could he conjure in a day? Magic had its limits and needed to be recharged. Too bad her aunt hadn’t taught her more about those limits.