Ashes in the Sky

by Jennifer M. Eaton

  My eyes. I was relying too much on my eyes again.

  Slumping to the soft dirt, I pressed against a tree. It didn’t conceal me, but it helped me to feel sheltered, safe. Hugging my backpack to my chest, I closed my eyelids and blocked out the sounds of my elevated heartbeat and rasping breath.

  The tree behind me hummed. The grass at my feet creaked. The air vibrated. A low, soft, gentle essence hung in the woods. I was alone. At least for the moment.

  I let the tension ease from my muscles as I fished for the water canister in my bag. The liquid passed through the mask and eased the dry pain in my throat. Still parched, I considered guzzling the rest, but I closed it and slipped it back into my bag. I flipped on my phone. Ten hours, fourteen minutes. I needed the water to last at least that long.

  I reached for my camera. My heart sank, realizing it was not on my shoulder. I searched the bag, even though I knew it wasn’t in there.

  “Dammit!”

  I threw the backpack on the ground next to me and looked over my shoulder and down the trodden row of brush I’d plodded through. Something howled in the distance. Going back wasn’t an option.

  My head lolled to my knees. Now everything I loved was gone.

  22

  The humming within the woods changed. Heightened. The hair rose on my arms. It was as if the forest breathed around me, trying to tell me stories I couldn’t understand.

  I wiped the stray leaves from my shirt, closed my eyes, and let the sound envelope me. I searched the air for something different—anything that might bring me to the wreckage of David’s ship. My body flittered, and my instincts coaxed me to the right.

  Trudging forward, I questioned the logic of walking in any direction. I was on an alien planet. Who knew where I was or where I was going.

  I couldn’t just sit there and wait for my timer to run out, though.

  Probably a mile or more from my starting point, I stopped and considered a pink calla lily-like flower blooming on a climbing vine. The petals curved and dipped in a delicate, but stout design not unlike lilies on Earth. It warmed me like a piece of home, until the leaves on the vine turned up.

  Not again.

  I pulled my backpack straps over my shoulders as the bush that had been behind me also raised burgundy leaves high to the sun. It had been green only seconds before. I was sure of it.

  Seizing a thin, bluish branch the length of my leg, I treaded farther in my chosen direction. I gripped the warm bark at shoulder level, preparing to swing it like a bat if needed.

  “What about softball?” Dad asked.

  “I don’t like softball,” I told him. “I was thinking about art club.”

  “Art won’t get you anywhere. Sports can.”

  “Seriously? How will swinging a bat help me in the real world?”

  I shivered, the length of wood feeling heavy and foreign in my grip. Sorry, Dad. You were right. Being good with a bat might have come in handy right now.

  The bushes continued to turn their leaves up, always on my right. The bushes to my left remained a deep olive. I forced my mind not to think of what it might mean.

  All that mattered right now was moving forward and getting closer to the ship. Why the idea of finding the wreckage made me feel safe, I didn’t know. I’d still be alone, with some sort of creature lurking nearby, ready to pounce and get a free meal. But I needed a goal to keep my mind off my stalker and the clock ticking in my backpack.

  Reaching a wide field, I perched atop a blue, moss-covered rock. Even though I was completely in the open, I released a relieved sigh. There were no bushes to hide behind. If something was coming to eat me, I’d know about it.

  The sun still seemed fairly high in the sky. I should have a decent amount of daylight before I had to worry about the cold again.

  I’d need to—

  Something rustled the tall grass to my right. Too small to be either of the wolf-dog-things that had attacked me earlier. I grabbed my branch and stood, easing toward the movement. When it got too close for comfort, I slammed the wood into the long, thick blades with all my might.

  A shriek echoed through the clearing before the branch jerked from my hands and flew through the air, landing about ten feet away. The grassen jumped in front of me, clicking its hairy mandibles.

  “Leave me alone!”

  I bolted back to the trees. How could something that small throw a branch, and how had it survived the fight with those dogs?

  Once inside the canopy, I turned. A scream lodged in my throat as the grassen cut through the high grass and thundered toward me.

  I fell back and grunted as I hit the ground. The metal case in my pack dug into my shoulder blades.

  The spider plopped atop my chest, and I flung him off. My head reeled, but I refused to be eaten! I pulled myself up and fell once more, staring right into the creature’s three glossy eyes.

  He didn’t move. He just stared at me. Was he like a T-Rex? He couldn’t see me if I stayed still?

  It tilted to the left, looking more like a confused puppy than a monster. I stayed frozen, timing my breaths. The grassen chittered twice, spun, and ran into the forest.

  Holy crap.

  I sat up. How gosh darn lucky was I?

  My heart racing, I stood and stumbled. The material around my face seemed fogged, like the haze on a car’s windshield on a warm morning. I wiped my sleeve, but the vapor seemed to be inside, as if it were double paned.

  Lovely. There was a homicidal super-spider on the loose, and maybe a few hungry dog-thingies, and my mask was fogging up. This day was getting better by the minute.

  Puffing, I trudged forward, my lungs feeling slightly heavy. I glanced at every bush, checking for movement of the leaves. About ten yards into my journey, the forest changed from green to burgundy in an instant as all the leaves around me turned up at the same time.

  My heart seemed to expand, aching in my chest. Keep moving, Jess. Just keep moving.

  Gasping, I lurched back as the grassen lunged in front of me. It reared up on its hind legs, baring its teeth and shaking its spindly arms.

  Dammit.

  I sped past him darting through the trees, hoping for—

  My face smashed into something solid. I slid to the base of a tree but kept falling. I trailed through the leaves and charred branches littering the ground like I was on a ski slope. A cloud of ash wafted up, blinding me until I jolted to a stop.

  I swayed slowly, my shoulders burning as I swung in mid-air from my backpack.

  The ash cleared, and it took a moment for my mind to comprehend what my sight begged to discount as nothing but a mirage. A fake. A figment of my imagination.

  My feet hung freely over a black, smoldering crater. Remains of trees that probably equaled the towering mammoths over my head seemed no more than broken saplings in the depths below.

  The fog tainted my mask again as I swayed, helpless. I clung to the straps, whispering prayers I hoped God could hear with me so far from home.

  A few small fissures spat lines of smoke into the sky, while embers glowed greenish-orange throughout. A single, partially singed leaf poked out of the ash on the crater wall beside me. The hollow couldn’t be a natural formation. Something exploded here. Recently.

  “Oh, God.” I kicked my feet. “Oh, God!” Tears streamed from my eyes. Part of me had believed I would find David alive, but the desolation below me ripped the last shreds of hope from my heart. It was over. I was alone.

  I hitched, as if someone grabbed my backpack. The edge I had fallen from came closer. I twisted, trying to see who was above, but the dense brush hid them from view. When the peak moved within my grasp, I reached for the burned roots sticking out from the dirt and pulled myself out of the gully.

  Panting, I shot to my feet, searching for whoever pulled me up. Something clicked three times, and I spun toward the sound.

  The grassen heeled up on its hind legs, batting his front feet to
gether as drool seeped from his fangs.

  Oh, Geeze.

  I took a step back, preparing for the imminent attack, but the spider only continued to click and chitter.

  Nothing but trees surrounded us. We were alone. Me and spidicus giganticus. I narrowed my eyes. If we were alone, then who pulled me out?

  The grassen edged back into the grass and tangled its right back leg around a black strap. It shuffled forward, pulling my camera out of the brush.

  No. Way.

  It scooted to the side, leaving Old Reliable within my grasp.

  I gaped, my eyes darting back to the giant bug. “Did you—pull me out of there?” I pointed to the crater.

  Spidicus flexed his mandibles.

  I crouched, and the spider hunkered down on ten hairy legs. My face reflected in all three of his opalescent eyes.

  “Omigosh, you were never trying to eat me, were you?”

  The creature tilted its head, combing back its spiky hair with its gray right front leg.

  Gray right front leg? Jiminy Cricket. I’d seen this bug before. On the ambassador’s ship.

  A pang of guilt sunk into my chest. “You saved me from those dogs. You covered me with branches to keep me warm.” I rubbed my eyes. “Back on the ship, you were the one who moved David and me through that liquid wall when the goons were after us. You were the one who stopped me from falling off that staircase-thing.” My gaze traveled over his one gray-tinted leg. “And you’re the one who pulled me away from the swarm when the rest of your buddies attacked David.” I sat back and rubbed my temples. “Holy cow.”

  Spidicus ran into the forest.

  “Wait! Don’t go!”

  I scanned the trees. Nothing. I grabbed my camera and slipped it into my bag.

  How could I blame him for taking off? He’d been a great friend, and all I did in return was run away or try to squish him.

  A tremor rumbled the soil, and the grassen reappeared, dragging a long bluish-green stick behind him. He released his burden beside my foot. Green ooze dripped from one end. The other was chewed-off bone. A leg.

  Something’s leg!

  I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from hurling as Spidicus nudged the member toward me.

  “Umm, no thanks. I don’t think I’d like alien leg sushi. That was totally sweet of you, though.”

  Tilting his head again, his huge, round, multi-faceted eyes seemed to fix on me. What did it want? I certainly wasn’t going to eat somebody’s raw pre-chewed leg.

  I pulled my emergency rations out of my backpack. “See? I have a yummy salad to eat.”

  I shoved some through my mask and into my mouth. Spidicus leaped back with a hiss.

  “Yeah, not my first choice either, but I don’t think we’re within walking distance of McDonald’s, so I’m kind of stuck.”

  My reflection swirled in his eyes. He clicked his mandibles, as if speaking to me, before shimmying the half-chewed leg back into the bushes. Hideous crackling noises rattled me to the core. At least he was considerate enough not to eat that thing right in front of me. I shuddered. Had he eaten that entire dog in the past day?

  The brush grew silent, and I took a sip of water from the canister. Spidicus scrambled out of the bushes and lurched back into the threatening pose: head up, arms splayed, fangs exposed. The chittering started. What was terrifying an hour ago suddenly steered to the side of cute.

  “Are you thirsty? Do you need water?”

  He inched closer.

  Okaaaay … I poured some water in my hand and offered it. Spidicus inched nearer.

  “It’s okay, here you go.”

  He sprang onto my hand, fangs extended and piercing my skin. I screamed, shaking him off and showering the water across the singed grass.

  The grassen bowled over three times and scampered under a bush. Breathing heavily, I checked my hand. Despite feeling the sharp teeth, there wasn’t a mark on me.

  Shoot. I leaned toward the bush. “Dude, I’m sorry. I thought you were trying to bite me.” Feeling like the biggest jerk ever, I poured some more water and steadied my hand on the dry, cracked soil. “Here you go. I promise I won’t throw you again.”

  Three glistening orbs jutted out of the bush. I didn’t blame him for being cautious.

  Big-stupid-hit-the-poor-helpless-spider girl.

  His fangs came out. No, definitely not a helpless bug. He moved out with hesitation reminiscent of a tarantula stalking its prey. Please, please, please don’t be stalking your prey.

  He inched up to my hand, his fangs elongating as he reared them back, ready to strike. My mask fogged up again, momentarily blinding me. I readied for the pain, but only a gentle tickle caressed my palm.

  I adjusted my mask and grinned as the water disappeared from my hand with only the three long fangs submerged.

  “So those are like straws, too? I get it.”

  I rubbed the extra droplets onto my jeans and Spidicus shook himself out like a dog trying to dry off.

  “You’re just as lost as I am, aren’t you?”

  He settled down, laying his belly in the dirt like a duck ruffling its feathers to get cozy in a nest. How could I have ever been so afraid of anything so cute?

  “I need to give you a name.”

  He adjusted his weight, kicking at the few uncharred plants around him.

  “How about Edgar? You look like an Edgar.”

  He seemed to startle at the name, and I laughed. But my next breath hitched.

  No air!

  My heart thumped in my temples as I gasped. Where was the air?

  I felt around the edges of my mask, looking for some kind of switch to turn it back on.

  A mouthful of air entered my lungs. I relished it, afraid to exhale. What if there weren’t another?

  Edgar hopped on four of his ten legs, holding the rest out to his sides. His gaze seemed centered on me. I managed another breath, but not much of one. I fumbled for my cell phone. Two hours, eight minutes, fourteen seconds.

  I wheezed. Nothing.

  Could David have been wrong about how long I had? Did I use up too much air running?

  My eyes grew heavy, but a tug deep within my gut brought me to my feet. I had to go on. The trees spun, and I stumbled. My backpack slipped from my shoulder and thumped to the ground.

  Hard. Too hard.

  Edgar warbled and ran into the bushes.

  I coughed, and the material surrounding my face sucked in, covering my throat like a plastic bag. I pulled at the mask, but it only tightened. My stomach clenched as if being pulled from my body by a tether leading into the woods.

  On my hands and knees, I crawled several feet before sliding to the hard, charred grass.

  I rolled onto my back and stared into the trees. My brain pulsed against my temples as I tugged at the mask. A red haze coated my vision.

  A pinpoint of light came through the trees, warming my face.

  “Mom?”

  I wanted to welcome what I knew was inevitable. I cried instead, but I couldn’t even sob. The tears pooled between my eyes and the fabric, taking what room was left for air.

  I pulled at the bag, opening my mouth for a scream that couldn’t come. The light above opened up to a broad, sunny playground.

  Mom sat beside me on the swings. “I heard you didn’t make the soccer team.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, whatever.”

  “Did you even try out?”

  I realized I was gaping and snapped my mouth shut.

  Mom smirked. “Don’t look so surprised. You always hated soccer.”

  I shivered. “Are you going to tell Dad?”

  “That you’re not going to play soccer this year? Yes, but as far as I know, you didn’t make the team.”

  My heart swelled, but I also felt like pig poop for lying to Dad. “I joined photography club instead.”

  Mom’s eyes widened. “That’s awesome. You’ve always loved to take pi
ctures.”

  “Dad’s going to be pissed.”

  “Watch your mouth.” She looked across the street at a woman walking a dog. “He’ll get over it. You have your own life to live. Maybe someday you’ll get on the cover of National Geographic.” A broad smile graced her lovely face. “Wouldn’t that be awesome? I could tell everyone my little girl took that picture.”

  Mom’s smile faded to gray, replaced by green-shrouded fog. I tried to take another breath, but the bag sucked into my mouth, strangling me. Clawing and ripping at the fabric, I managed to pop a hole beside my mouth, and then ripped the rest of the fabric from my face. The cool bite in the air stabbed my cheeks. My eyes watered and burned.

  The poison! The noxious fumes!

  What had I done?

  I tried to hold my breath. The green mist seemed to sink toward me, the harbinger of my death. I closed my eyes and inhaled.

  “Jess! No!” David’s voice touched me, welcomed me into the abyss.

  Something jostled the ground beside my face as the scent of rose potpourri and a hint of ash filled my senses.

  Home. Sweet. Safe.

  A warm hand covered my nose and mouth, stealing the scent from me. My breath pilfered from me again; I struggled under a grip much stronger than my own.

  Treetops faded to gray as a shadowy figure blocked what was left of the sun. My body quivered as the world succumbed to darkness.

  23

  I hid at the top of the stairs. Tears streamed down my cheeks, moistening the carpet beside my bedroom door.

  “She lied,” Dad screamed from the kitchen below. “Nothing you can say will make that right.”

  “She never liked soccer,” Mom said. “You like soccer.”

  “She needs to get out more. Interact with someone other than Maggie.”

  “The Bakers have always been our best friends.”

  “I’m aware of that, but she needs other friends.”

  “She has other friends. She joined the photography club.”

  “Photography? What kind of loser club is that?”

  Minty green haze coated my vision. Something sharp poked my back.