Elysium

by Jennifer Marie Brissett

  They crossed over the gothic bridge that rose high above the river. Its cables strained under the weight of all the cars, trucks, and people on it. They drove slowly past those who walked with their faces covered with makeshift masks of ripped clothes or handkerchiefs or bandanas, a parade of the confused covered in dust and the debris of fallen buildings. These were the survivors trying to get home, if home was still there. There was nothing anyone could do. Night was coming, and soon it would be hard to see. God help them if it started to rain.

  Before Antoine, Adrian, and Hector was a city in chaos. Buildings were missing and so were people. An eerie scene lay before them of emptiness where things used to be and quiet where the noise of a million voices once filled the air. Adrian was jostled and felt every bump and curve of the road they traveled. He lifted his head, feeling its enormous weight, and it throbbed in time with his pulse. In front of him, he could see that Antoine’s shoulders were tense. His fingers gripped the steering wheel as if he could pull it out of its base. Adrian had for so long believed his brother dead that seeing him again was like a wild unbelievable dream. The presence of the beautiful boy who swooped down as if on eagle’s wings to pluck him out of the depths filled him with a simultaneous sense of joy and foreboding. He had so many things he wanted to say to his brother. So many words that had formed in his mind. But he held back from speaking.

  “I’m hungry,” Hector said.

  “Yeah, me too,” Antoine said and pulled the truck over in front of a small supermarket. Its sign shined a hazy light through the settling dust. A gray shutter-gate was pulled down over the storefront’s window, padlocks clamped on either side. Antoine went to the back of the truck and pulled out a crowbar. Hector watched him, shaking his head.

  “Papi, I think your brother will make trouble for us.”

  Adrian sat up and watched as Antoine banged at the locks to the gate. He eventually broke them open and threw the gate up with a loud slam. When he returned to the truck he tossed the crowbar into the back.

  “You know, you shouldn’t break into other people’s shit.”

  “There’s no one here.”

  “That doesn’t make it right.”

  “Whatever. I’m getting something to eat. Besides we shouldn’t stay out here tonight. Help me get him inside.”

  Hector pursed his lips, but did what he was told and helped to lift the groggy Adrian out of the truck and into the market.

  In the corner between the baby things and the feminine hygiene products, where it smelled of oversweet powder and deodorant, they set Adrian down. Hector made a bed out of packages of diapers and watched Adrian curl up in them. He was caressing Adrian’s sleeping head when the lights turned on.

  “I found the power switches,” Antoine shouted from behind a wall.

  The store had not been abandoned long. The milk was still cold, and there were plenty of canned goods, packages of dried snacks, and preserved foods in salt and bottles of brine. The refrigerators and their compressors huffed and puffed like overweight children. It felt wrong to just take things off the shelves and open them, but that’s what Hector did. A package of peanuts, a bag of chips, a can of soda — then he changed his mind and went for a carton of chocolate milk. Antoine roamed the aisles taking food from the shelves, crinkling bags open and munching as he went. The cocking of a gun caught everyone’s attention.

  “What are you doing in my store?” a voice said.

  Frozen. Speechless. Guilty.

  Appearing from a doorway was a man shakily holding a big black gun. He was small and middle-aged and skinny. Dangling at the side of his neck was a dust mask. His hand might have been nervous, but his face was firm.

  “This is my store.”

  “We didn’t know,” Hector said with a half-eaten bag of peanuts in his hand.

  “You knew it was somebody’s store.”

  “Everyone’s gone,” Antoine said. “We didn’t think anyone was here.”

  “This is my store. I don’t leave my own store,” the man said.

  “We didn’t take much,” Hector said. “We can leave.”

  The store owner wore an expression that was a mixture of skepticism and relief.

  “You’re the Mr. Kim from the sign, right?” Antoine said.

  “Yes, I’m Mr. Kim and this is my store. I build this store. I make my business. This is my home upstairs. No one make me leave my home.”

  Mr. Kim went to the front door and locked it, then shook it hard to make sure it was shut. Hector slowly moved to put a small bag of nuts into his pocket.

  “What did you see out there?” Mr. Kim said.

  “Like what?” Hector replied.

  “Anything? People? Did you see people?”

  “We saw some people on the bridge,” Hector said.

  “You seen anything else?”

  “No, just people.”

  “The people, how’d they seem to you?”

  “I didn’t see any sign of the disease, if that’s what you mean,” Antoine said.

  “I seen some sick people two days ago,” Mr. Kim said. “Very bad … They will die soon. Very bad.”

  “What disease?” Hector asked.

  “What disease?” Mr. Kim repeated back. “Where you been? Locked up somewhere? What disease? The thing that’s been killing everyone.”

  Hector put a peanut in his mouth and chewed slowly, taking in the new information.

  The store owner said to Antoine, “You a vet?”

  “Yeah, and what the fuck’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing, nothing. You fight a lot over there?”

  “I did my share.”

  “Then you seen them up close. And you fight them and live,” Mr. Kim said.

  “Yeah, I’ve fought ’em.”

  Mr. Kim nodded and put the gun into his pocket.

  “And just who are you two talking about?” Hector asked.

  “The evil! The men who are not men. They walk our streets like standing shadows. They come from another world to kill us all! They are here now. I’ve seen them myself. Unnatural. They bring the disease, and now they come to check if we are dead.”

  Hector whispered under his breath, “Él está loco.”

  “Go turn off the lights!” Mr. Kim said. “You don’t want what’s out there to know we’re in here.”

  “Then maybe you should turn off your sign,” Antoine said.

  “My sign is on?”

  “That’s how we knew this place still had power.”

  Mr. Kim said. “Then turn it off! The switch for the sign is the one underneath.”

  “How come you have power?” Antoine shouted from behind a wall. “The whole city is dark.”

  “I have a generator in the basement.” Mr. Kim said.

  Outside the front window, the dust that should have settled remained floating in the air. The night seemed misty gray and eerie and quiet like the hush of snowfall. The dust was caking on everything. The truck had a nice healthy pile on it.

  “You can stay the night and have something to eat. Eat the fruit. It will all go bad soon anyway,” Mr. Kim said. “You should wear dust masks. They’re in aisle three.”

  And put his own back over his face.

  The four of them sat on the floor in the open area between the registers and the front window. They watched the dust come down and ate in near darkness by the dim light of a single votive candle placed in the middle of them. Hector slipped potato chips under his mask and sipped on chocolate milk through a straw. Antoine took off his mask and threw it to the floor. Hector reluctantly removed his, but adjusted the one on sleeping Adrian.

  “Is he sick?” Mr. Kim asked.

  “No,” Hector said, “just tired.”

  “You sure.”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “What are you then? His nurse?” he said with a smirk.

  “I’m his friend.”

  Mr. Kim stared at Hector for a few moments. “What is with you people?”

  �
�What people?”

  “Why do you feel the need to be like that?”

  “It’s none of your damn business,” Hector said.

  “Humph.”

  “Pendejo.”

  “And you,” Mr. Kim said to Antoine. “When you get back?”

  “Recently,” Antoine said.

  “Was it bad over there?”

  “It was bad.”

  “But this bad?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah?”

  Antoine stood up and went to the window. The streets were encased in darkness. Something moved in the shadows. Maybe it was a person. Maybe it was something else. It didn’t seem human, though it walked on two legs. But it wasn’t an animal either. It strode with an elegant gait. Long tall strides. Upon its head was something like a hat made out of piping that stretched high into the air like a crown.

  “What you looking at?” Mr. Kim asked.

  “There’s something across the street,” Antoine said.

  “Get away from the window.”

  Mr. Kim blew out the candle and they were doused in complete darkness. Only the waning moon shifting through the dust clouds provided any light.

  “Gimme the gun,” Antoine said.

  “No, it’s my gun.”

  “Which one of us knows how to really use it?”

  They stared at each other for a long, tense moment. Then Mr. Kim looked down.

  “It has no bullets. I only use it to scare people.”

  Antoine bent down and whispered, “Where do you keep the bullets?”

  “In a box behind the counter.”

  Antoine took the man’s gun and crawled to the counter, behind the cigarettes and candy bars and packets of gum. He groped around searching for a box.

  “They’re on the bottom shelf,” the man whispered from across the room.

  The shifting metal shook like maracas against the cardboard. Every tiny snipk of a bullet entering the gun reverberated in the hush.

  “Stay down,” Antoine whispered. He approached the glass, the gun silhouetted against the moonlight that filtered through. He stood unmoving, waiting. Then he angled his head and put the gun in the pocket of his coat.

  “It looks like whatever it was is gone,” Antoine said as he returned to sit down.

  “Are you sure?” Adrian said to everyone’s surprise.

  “There’s nothing out there now. Don’t worry, bro. I got you.”

  >> recover

  *RECENTLY DELETED FILES RECOVERED*

  >> run diagnostics

  >>

  .

  .

  .

  The cold linoleum floor was hard on my back. Hector tried his best to make me a bed out of stuff from around the floor. I watched him as if seeing his body move from the other side of a thick glass. All the edges were fuzzy, and no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t focus. I knew he cared for me. I just didn’t remember why.

  The smoke settled. The sky returned to its usual shade of blue. The day was bright. But the people were gone, and it didn’t look like they were coming back. Antoine spent most of his time looking out the window. He said he saw something the other night. If he said so, he probably did. The others wonder and worry what it was. As for me, I was trying to get my bearings straight. My head still didn’t feel like it belonged to me. And it was clear that I needed a shave.

  I searched the store for where they kept the razors. I found them not in an aisle, but behind the counter near the disposable cameras and cigarettes. I took several packages of the ones with five blades and went to the bathroom. There was no running water, so I had to do it the hard way.

  I left the door wide open and set a burning votive candle on the edge of the sink. Before me in the mirror was a ghostly, haunted man. Dark shadows lay under my eyes, and my beard had gown long enough that it was curling at the ends. I looked like Zeus or maybe a Caesar. I began to dry scrape at the hairs on my face. The razors got clogged so I had to start a new one over and over and over again. The heavy hair came off in clumps. When I finally got close to the skin it was a tricky business. The first nick stung like a mother. I used a bit of toilet paper to patch the wound. Then I nicked myself again and again and again. Soon my whole lower jaw was covered by tiny Japanese flags.

  >>

  *DIAGNOSTICS COMPLETE*

  ==> ERRORS FOUND: FRAGMENTATION IN MULTIPLE FILES

  ==> ERRORS FOUND: FRAGMENTATION IN MULTIPLE SECTORS

  ==> ERRORS FOUND: FRAGMENTATION IN KERNEL

  RUNNING REPAIRS

  .

  .

  .

  Adrian was beginning to feel a bit more like himself again.

  “Hey, good looking!” Hector said. “But you’re supposed to use toilet paper on the other end.”

  “Ha, ha,” Adrian said. “You’re real funny.”

  “I do my best,” Hector said, smiling. “You feeling better?”

  “Yeah, I feel much better … thanks to you.”

  “It’s no problem, Papi. That’s what you do when people aren’t feeling well. You take care of them.”

  “Thank you, Helen.”

  Hector soaked in the name like perfume.

  “No, Papi, thank you.”

  Adrian tugged at the edges of the patches on his face. One by one he peeled them off. The brown blood stuck them to his skin for tiny moments until they gave way. He tossed them into the sink, where they drifted into the basin and collected with the scraped hair bristles at the bottom. They looked like tiny flower petals on a bed of freshly cut hay.

  The night was cool. Clouds rolled by, casting moon shadows on the buildings across the street. Antoine insisted on everyone staying indoors at all times. He knew something, and he didn’t want to say what it was. Adrian wanted him to share, if only so that he wouldn’t be bearing the knowledge alone. Adrian didn’t know what to say to him, or how to ask. He watched him staring out the window. They barely spoke. It got so that Adrian couldn’t stand it. Antoine warmed up a bowl of instant noodles with water he boiled in the coffee maker and brought it over to him. Antoine looked at his brother with red-rimmed eyes. He said thank you as he accepted the cup. And they sat together watching the dark shadows roll by.

  Then Adrian saw it. He turned to his brother. Antoine had his finger to his lips to tell him to hush. It moved like an animal. It had a strange stride. Adrian had to stare for a long time to accept what he was seeing. It stood on two legs and walked like a man. But its head was not a man’s. At first it seemed like a hat. Adrian squinted. The darkness was thick and the dust was still falling, so he felt like he may have been mistaken, but the creature seemed to have antlers.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Someone pounded on the window. Adrian jumped back. His heart pounded as if it would leap out of his shirt. “Come on! I know you’re in there. I can see you. Let me in!”

  Antoine had the gun pointed at the glass. Adrian watched his brother move.

  “What do you want?” Antoine said.

  “Don’t leave me out here! Please let me in!”

  Antoine faced the shadow. He stared at the dark figure for a long time.

  “Whoever you are, leave us alone.”

  “You can’t leave me out here! Dammit, they’re coming!”

  “What’s coming?!” Hector yelled.

  “Oh, God,” Antoine gasped and backed away. “Everyone grab something! That broom, something heavy. Anything you can hit with!”

  “What’s going on?” Hector said.

  The shadow man left the window and ran swiftly down the street followed soon after by a pack of other shadows. The sounds of hooves pounded the pavement, shaking the floor and making the windows tremble. Some of the shadows stopped and began banging on the pane. There was no time. It broke open like the crash of a wave against the rocks.

  Shattered glass flew everywhere. Hector used his body to cover Adrian. A large shard slipped into the neck of Mr. Kim. He dropped to the floor and gulped for air as the blood gushe
d out of him. Antoine pulled Hector and Adrian to their feet and yanked them into the back storage room and locked the door behind them. The things thumped mercilessly against the door. Adrian and Hector pushed hard to block their entry. Antoine tried the back exit. It was heavy and locked. He shot around the knob several times until a big hole opened, then pushed the door into the alley. Antoine and Adrian ran out, but Hector slammed the door shut behind them, using his body to keep it closed.

  “What are you doing?!” Adrian said.

  “Run! I’ll keep them here for as long as I can!” Hector shouted.

  “You can’t do anything! Get out of there! Come on!” Antoine screamed and pulled at Adrian’s shirt, dragging him away.

  Adrian cried, “Helen, why?!”

  If he had remained for a moment longer, he would have heard the answer, “Because you saw the real me.”

  .

  .

  .

  *REPAIRS COMPLETE*

  9.

  Adrian and Antoine ran until their lungs burned. Adrian’s side ached with pain. He stopped to catch his breath.

  *BREAK*

  >>

  >> opendoc /w process_data.fi

  # process_data.fi -- update data,

  # from hierarchical tree, sort

  # and process data

  .

  .

  .

  parent = pop(hierarchy_data);

  child_1 = parent->left;

  child_2 = parent->right;

  .

  .

  .

  >>

  >> execute process_data

  Two brown boys chased by fast-moving shadows and something-like-hounds. The galloping hooves drove them onward. They raced into an empty lot. Old soda cans, trash.

  Broken glass, everywhere.

  People pissing in the stairs like they just don’t care …

  Red bricks that used to be a part of a building stood one on top of another. You could almost make out how the rooms were once laid out. Antoine knew this area well. He had been here many times with his friends for his nighttime sneak-outs to do God knows what ’til the break of dawn. Adrian had always helped him to creep back into the house. Their Dad never knew. If he had, he would have killed them both. In exchange for his silence, Adrian got the stories. The stories of who did what, when, and how. The stories of the music and the rhyme and the rhythms and the beats. He did this every night, every night, every night, repeat.