Good and Evil : Freeland - Part Two (9781628547375)

by Pulver, William

  “But he never subjected that on any of us.” A tall, blond, wholesome kid named Buster Feldman spoke more with his twinkling blue eyes than he did his non-moving mouth. He was one of the few Farrah hadn’t worked her way through who had been overlooked in the hand-raising from before.

  “No, you’re right, he didn’t. His prey was always non-football players’ girls. I guess he had more respect for the football players than that.”

  “Or maybe he is just a pansy coward, afraid that if he ever tried anything on Jessica, God bless her soul, then I would have beat him down in a heartbeat. I would have ringed his neck up one side and down the other.”

  “He was with her, didn’t she tell you? I thought everyone knew. Yeah, he was with her after she won queen at prom the first time, the night before she fell in love with you. By the way, how did he taste?” Aftab got some mysterious confidence about him, like he didn’t care what Zon thought or if he was going to beat his tail next. It didn’t matter; without Brody coming to save the day, they were all going to die today. Why not go out with some dignity? Aftab thought.

  Zon didn’t know how to come back on that one, so he said, “Why are we talking about him like he is a god? He is just as normal as you or I. What is wrong with you guys?” He sounded a little jealous about the attention of the conversation being on a transparent being, someone who wasn’t even around and was still stealing the limelight, let alone someone who Jessica chose to make out with the night before she hooked up with Zon.

  “Because he is majestic. I can only see the good in him.” Lexie got a glimmer in her heavenly brown eyes as she batted her camel eyelashes and smiled with her thin, wispy lips. “He is my personal savior.”

  “Get over him, Lexie. Don’t you know it is sacrilegious or idolatry to idolize any other God but God?” Tynan spoke. “I like him too, but not that much!” Now the jealousy was spreading like wildfire. Lexie closed the conversation by stepping back into the darkness.

  Zon stood up and put his back to the wall. Slowly, he suggested everyone slide down the corridor; there was another, smaller tunnel in the floor just beyond the projection of the Pastie eyes. He was still a little perturbed by the news, but maintained composure. Again, being the leader that he thought of himself as, he had to suck up his pride and think empathically to avoid the chance of his letting everyone down.

  The group was down to forty-five non-suicidal-thinking people, and if they had another encounter with the Pasties, it could mean their last encounter with life. The surrealism of what they were forced to deal with was overbearing on such young kids. It was the most difficult time they’d had away from their mommies and daddies than they had ever experienced in their existence. For the better part, they were holding together more than expected. The ones who had died already weren’t fit to survive down here and definitely not fit enough to bring another life into this world. They were the least likely to survive anywhere without adult supervision. It wasn’t unusual, but their lack of preparedness was the death of them—not literally, but informally. They were willing to do what it took to make a baby, but would never have the courage to raise one. Had they been better prepared to cope on their own, having been tested and trusted a little more by their parents, maybe they wouldn’t have gone out like such, they wouldn’t have fallen prey to such an idiotic persuasion. None of them could figure out why they thought they should multiply so their numbers could be greater to battle a non-winnable battle. It wasn’t the football players’ faults they were thinking reproductively, in a strength-in-numbers kind of way. Though they were thinking with the wrong heads, they were just using the limited space a human occupies when it comes to being forced into a decision during the fight or flight moment of sudden contemplation—that and teenage hormones.

  The faster they scuttled, the farther away they were getting from the slug-like mineral beings. On hands and knees, the line shot through the burrow like a rocket, having done this several times before in football practice. The other two non-players surprisingly kept up, following the leader by their example. Once upon the other side, they all stood up to brush themselves clean of loose limestone and waltzed into the narrowness of this natural ladder having hollow. The vine ladder extending from the side wall’s ceiling seemed to have been made by something because it resembled a regular rope ladder except it had nooses holding it together at the side of each rung. Of course, it was the Pasties who had designed it. The ladder was sturdy enough for each person to scale. Everyone but the last one, Aftab, was climbing to the last rung as it split in half, having been frayed from the beginning. The rest of the stringy rope vine splintered apart on the sides and fell to the floor. As it landed, the entire bottom of the floor caved in and descended into a far down drain of water funnel, coming from the sides of the wide chute along the way. Aftab grabbed a hold of the remaining rope as his body twirled, and he kicked to regain balance where he was facing the side of the newly-formed cliff. Harvey got down on his belly and reached out his hand, his size being the last cause of the rope’s disintegration before Aftab’s near demise.

  Their hands clasped as Harvey suspended Aftab in mid-air. A rush of bath-temperature feeling water must have broken some natural levee because it was beginning to push Harvey out of the upper hollow. He hooked his toes to the cracks along the side of the tunnel as his teammates formed a chain against the pressure of the gushing river. It was like they were fighting the fan in the vent at the bottom of the Love Shack all over again, but this time with less people and more back pressure than front pressure. This was one of the hardest to endure things Zon ever encountered, but at least he was getting some form of exercise to stay in shape, no longer being able to work out for three hours a day. He started to do the boat row as the other players caught on, wrapping their arms around the next person in front of them and pulled back on their mid-section in the same rowing motion. The chain followed suit as all were steadily rowing while wedging one step back on every extension. Slowly, Aftab was hoisted up the side of the cliff, still clinging desperately to Harvey’s hand. The clench was the only thing that was saving his life. The tepid mineral water was slapping him in the face with greater force than the last person away from him had to go through. At least the room they were trying to enter was another vastly open one, so there wasn’t as much force as could have been, had the hole been smaller with that much water coming in.

  Aftab crawled into the bottom of the muggy, foggy tunnel as he made himself thinner by trying to place his hands and feet out to the side while holding his back against the ceiling. His body, suspended, was already weary, but he had to let the warm water pass before he could set foot down. He was way too light and skinny to make it through the slimy currents upstream. If the water didn’t get too backed up, he would be all right because limestone didn’t take too much to break. Warm water was its worst enemy when it came to sculpting these hollows. That is how the tunnels and hollows were formed in the first place, by warm water. Aftab didn’t want to be pummeled to his death with a surge of backed up water, so he scrambled up the pipe not giving much thought to how tired it was making him. At this point, he couldn’t think about anything except how much adrenaline was pumping through his twiggy body.

  Like pulling a cleaning rag through a gun barrel, the entire team grabbed the remnants of the vine ladder and dragged Aftab through the pipe. The rest of the natural rope was suspended from another hole at the top of the wall with more light coming from it. The thing must have been one hundred feet long but was enough to secure Aftab from plunging to his death. He held on with all of his might, finally reaching his destination with the instructions of more climbing to come. He was exhausted, but he didn’t want to give in to the fact that football players are stronger than geeks. He was doing a good job fighting for his cause.

  The vine that ran the length of the wall was a sturdy growth that was a half-handful thick. Tynan was the first to scale the eighty feet worth of wa
ll. He made it to the top and gave a review of what he saw.

  “There is some cool stuff up here!” Tynan shouted down.

  “Can you see outside?” A wishful thought exited Marc’s mouth.

  “No, unfortunately it is another room like this one, but there are some things I think you will find of interest, things that each and every one of us can benefit from.”

  The others wondered if he was just saying that because he wanted to encourage them to climb up and give them a positive reward if they made it to the top. He was sometimes the one to cry wolf, but what else were they going to do? This was the only way closer to escape. At least it was up, and the crust of Trendago was up, so it couldn’t be the wrong way. Besides, the other way was now washed out and gone. There was no going back.

  One after the other, the weakest people were sent in between those who climbed ropes for fun. The second person up became the resting pad for the first person after every ten feet, this being for the weaker people to benefit from. The scheme seemed to work because even Aftab, as tired and weighted down by wetness as he was, made it with little effort.

  This obstacle course was becoming somewhat tiring, so once all had reached the hole at the top of the wall from this steamy river room, they lay down and went to sleep. It was, by far, the most challenging situation they had ever been faced with in their lives. The room they entered was a treasure-trove of goodies that seemed like a garden of different things that were growing in a soft, rich underground soil field of artificially lit rows. The leaves of the fruits and vegetables were scattered about in various places; it seemed the rows were zigzagging. The first thing Tynan did was to pick the above-the-soil fruit that closely resembled strawberries and sucked on their sweet nourishment. Quenched of all that made him feel weak and feeble, he laid his head down in the pillowy dirt and dozed off, as did the rest of the people after they partook of the rich, plentiful, forbidden providence.

  Chapter 10

  Clue Valley Canyon

  When all was quiet and the lights disappeared, Treble awoke from the floorboard of Macer’s truck. He lifted Abby’s head to shake her awake. The smell of alcohol laced vomit, hot from the heat of the night and the sitting truck, made him almost blow chunks. He climbed up in the seat and peered over the dash careful not to be seen. No one was around. The whirlybird of fireworks had fizzled to embers that cast off a dull glow, but didn’t produce much visibility. Treble and Abby listened for a second for any noises. Then, he got out.

  After remote opening the tunnel door to the outside, he took the remote with him and followed the truck’s taillights out. He instructed Abby to take Macer’s truck and be the one who made up the story that warded off anyone who might be looking for the runaways. This was as crucial a decision as he has ever had to make, but it was necessary. He knew that he would never see his own mom ever again. If he went back, there would sure be hell to pay. In any case, the authorities might be a little more lenient toward a girl. He was so hungover from remorse, he really didn’t care. He was changing back to the true friend he thought Brody would respect again someday, after he would tell on himself for being so vulnerable. He closed the door, threw the remote into the river signifying that he was the one to close shop, and followed the noise from the water to the mouth of the canyon. A thick fog kept him hidden for the time being.

  The solar star was starting to peek over the horizon with several clouds hiding its fullness. Treble had a hangover headache from drinking too much during his championship football team’s victory party; nevertheless, he had a mission in mind and that was to track down those who had departed. Where he was going, he didn’t have a clue; somewhere into the wilderness, maybe never to be found. He owed it to himself, to his friends, to not go back. It might have been a death wish to trek through the ever changing unknown, but it would have surely been a death sentence returning to Jessup Cander.

  “Man, how did I get myself into this mess?” Treble started talking to himself to keep himself company. “I don’t understand what is going on. I feel deserted, but I have to press on. My friends are depending upon me to come save them if they have gotten into any trouble.”

  At that moment, the land started to tremble from the aftershock of the earthquake. The actual earthquake never reached Jessup Cander, but now the tremors were shaking the earth with great magnitude. Treble started to run in the direction of where he last witnessed the heli-bus’ flight path. The steam from the river was keeping him out of sight as he raced by memory alone. He had only been to the mouth of Clue Valley Canyon one time. He had never been any farther. No one dared the canyon. Never having been to this part of southern Jessup Cander, he was spit out by the fog at the beginning of the dark and mysterious valley. The canyon walls were high and frightening, towering up into a dark nothingness overhead. The canyon’s own cloud system seemed to drop from the top and create a canopy that refracted its own light halfway down the tree laden cliffs. It was now a couple hours into the day and the weather changed the day to darkness the moment he had exited the fog and looked into the mouth of the dreaded canyon. (The reason no one ever went to the canyon is because of stories in school that were told to the children about the perils of such travels into the unknown. The parents used this as a scare tactic to keep their kids at bay. Treble always listened to his mother, but now it didn’t matter because he was forced to brave the virgin territory, alone.) The most mysterious thing occurred…

  Treble peered into the darkness and thought he saw something moving on the ground up ahead. He could vividly hear the river flowing madly. As it came into focus, its neon blue color slowly lit up its surroundings. A cute, yellow ostrich looking crane/flamingo/pelican bird glowed against the canvas of black. Giving off its own light, several of its young played circle tag around its feet until one got caught and bleeped to nothing. It just disappeared. Poof! The next one got tagged and it turned to fizzling stardust that lit up the ground as it danced off the high lit green grass. Poof! This place was unreal. Really! The river looked like it was animated, almost to the point it looked hand-painted. The larger than human cuckoo bird was too bright to have been a normal bird. Its young were like little innocent Easter Peeps, multicolored and irregular looking, until they saw Treble. One of the little ones quit playing tag for a second and waddled up to brush against his legs. He reached down to try and pet it… at that moment, the little beak enlarged as several rows of teeth unfolded from all around and ripped through Treble’s leg muscle. Not nice. The environment behind showed through where that portion of his leg used to be, but, he never fell over, or bled. That part of his lower calf had just vanished. It didn’t even hurt. He knew that he couldn’t take that too many more times; let alone, how many lives he had in this video dreamland. He swatted the bad little peep to nothing just after he watched it gulp down his right shin meat. Poof!

  Treble shook his head back and forth to make sure no one had slipped anything into his drink last night. He hoped he might be having some major flashbacks from past drug experimentation. Nonetheless, mama bird stretched out her giant bird wings and went from a pleasant to look at state, to a death becomes you, neurotic.

  Luckily, a giant frog fell from a cloud perch in the sky and landed on the now mean mama bird, squishing her to death with its weight. In Treble’s mind, this solidified the falseness of Clue Valley Canyon. The yellow-bellied, dark blue bullfrog snapped its long, white tongue at the tail of the game of tag winning baby chirper and zapped it into sprinkles of falling firework residue. Poof! The frog grinned widely at Treble as he jumped from side to side doing a little dance in hopes of the same thing not happening to him. At this point, he had definitely realized that he had entered Video Game Land, or La La Land, or something. Bizarre was an understatement to this crazy place. He felt like he was trapped in his entertainment system, but couldn’t wake himself up. Yet, he felt wide awake, aware of the physical stimuli all around him. It was all touchable, bu
t not real feeling. He felt small to the grandiose of the floating shards of skycicles that kept showering down all around him; some seemed to try to entrap him. Their vivid ice blue centers with transparent exteriors knifed into the sometimes foamy loamy, sometimes solid earth, with no help at all. Twice the size of him, the skycicles could have come down sideways and still had the same impact as spearing through him with their descending tips.

  He got caught in a ring of ground driven skycicles, but turned sideways to make himself skinny enough to squeeze through a quickly melting pair. It was almost as if the game master only wanted to scare him, not destroy him at the start of this uncanny virtual first person game, where Treble was the main character.

  Treble looked over toward a settlement of rocks and saw an oversized bicycle tire pump. He reached out to drag it over to the grinning frog. Now that its back had turned from him instantaneously as it paced back and forth in a controlled line, Treble noticed that there was a valve insert on its lower hind end. Treble raced over to it before it turned back around and stuck the tip of the pump in its mock anus. He started to pump the frog up as it grew even bigger. The air returned through the pump as the giant frog deflated and made the handle jump up, hitting Treble in the chin and knocked a piece off. He fell to the ground and felt the spot on his jaw, but it was gone. He was falling apart slowly, but surely, like an old man trapped in a young man’s body. The frog inflated and returned to its normal size. It hopped into the water ever so slowly disappearing by camouflaging itself in a slow dissolving fashion like it was leveling down. The yellow/blue body sank into the non-expanding current until fading altogether. The water bent around the width of its head, the last part of it to be seen besides its long tongue.