Remnant Tails

by Fey Truet

  I gave her a quick lick on the face and ran out the door.

  “Wait!” she called after me.

  It was too late. I had to do this for her sake.

  I made it to their living room, taking notice of the wreath that encased her brothers.

  I have to do this.

  The kitchen window, all the windows on the first floor, were all closed. And right when I was going to give up, Dory’s mother walked in. And with such good timing too.

  Taking advantage of the open door, I darted out past her and ran down the path.

  “Tails! Wait! Come back! Please!” Dory pleaded.

  I shook my head and turned, running as fast away from them as I could.

  I had to do this.

  I ran for a very long time, darting around corners and jumping on rooftops.

  I had no way of knowing if I was going the right way. From the rooftops, this city went on forever. On the ground, it was a confusing maze of buildings, alleys, streets, and turns.

  I couldn’t let this turn hopeless.

  I stopped for a moment on a street that read “Gary Rd” which didn’t quite read the same as the letters on the dog-boy’s slip.

  I huffed and looked around.

  If only streets had number codes, or glowed, or some obvious trait that deviated them from the rest, other than a name.

  “Ah got that shipmen’ ready for the Parsons and Orvilles, Mailey, when yer ready?” A man in an apron carrying two huge crates dropped them right in front of a huge shop. “If da trucks ou’ back, I’ll load ‘em in myself.”

  I took a tired deep breath.

  I didn’t have time to catch my breath. Every moment I was away from Dory she was more exposed. More at risk. Night and Day. I couldn’t bear to see her cry again. I couldn’t bear to fail and never see her again.

  “The Parsons and the Orvilles? Jar my memory. Where are those slated to go?”

  I started running again. I decided that jumping the buildings was faster than running the ground and started to make my way up.

  “Well, Dan Parson is up there on Woods, and the Orvilles live just a little past Gland Avenue on Woodworth. It’s an easy delivery—What da heck is tha?” the man asked, spotting me when I fell off the roof.

  He just said it. Gland Ave. He just said it!

  Something about a delivery in a truck. The Orvilles house was by Gland Avenue.

  I need to find that truck.

  I leapt up and started back up the roof, digging my claws into old wood and climbing. When I got on the roof, I listened for the two men.

  “No idea, but I don’t think my old lady would believe me if I told her. Parson and Orville. I remember them. Sure. The truck’s by Edna’s parked in the back. Feel free to load ‘em up. I’m just getting the last shipment from Fred and I’ll be off. I reckon I’m puttin’ this on your tab too, Uliver.”

  The man laughed, but I took off before I could get his response.

  I needed to find a delivery truck nearby. In the back, which wouldn’t be too hard because trucks were few and far in between here.

  I ran to the back of the shop and looked down both ways.

  Where is—Oh! There it is.

  Down a few buildings on a street full of auto grooves was a black bulky truck with a white trailer attached.

  I zipped past the few shops and jumped onto the trailer.

  I ran to the back of the truck and saw that it was closed. I groaned and went to the center of the trailer and waited patiently. A few moments later I heard the slack wheel of a cart rolling its load to the truck.

  Peeking over, I saw the shopkeeper with a dolly loaded with two huge crates, sealed and marked. He unlatched the truck’s door and I felt more than heard the vibrating roar the door gave as it slid open.

  The man turned and began the task of loading his crates and I quickly jumped down into the truck and hid in a corner with two stuffed animals wrapped in plastic. I laid down next to them, and when the man was done with his load, right before he closed the door, the other man said, “Last one!” and the man threw a small package in and closed the door with a huge bang.

  The truck started up with a rumble, making everything tremble with its grunts. We must’ve started forward, because half the truck fell over, and I had to run to the crates for cover. I wish I could say the rest was smooth sailing. It wasn’t.

  The truck would drive for a while, then stop, knocking everything around. The man would open the doors, unload some things, then drive again, starting the process over again. While he did this, I’d scramble out of sight, keeping my eyes ever close on the crates the other man loaded.

  This went on forever, but I had no doubt that it was quicker than if I ran around lost and without a clue.

  Finally, after more stops than I could count, the man grabbed the first crate saying, “Woodworth? Grunting with the effort, he moved the crate that had to be Orville’s though the Parson crate was still there.

  While he left the door open, I risked peeking out.

  “Orville?” the man asked a woman at a huge house. A house on a property bigger probably than the first level of Oeffing. “Yes?” the woman answered, and it was all the answer I needed.

  I scurried off the truck and flitted across the entire expanse of pale green, not finding a single brown blade of grass in this colder weather. I bounded through the gate at the end of the property and decided to run left.

  I stopped to read the sign at the end of the street.

  “Woodworth Ave” were the words on the sign pointing towards me and the sign below it pointing to the intersecting street had the words, “Gland Ave.”

  Is this Gland Avenue? I wondered.

  It looked like it. But I left Collin’s specifics with Dory.

  The man had said that Woodworth Avenue was a little past Gland Avenue. I don’t want to imagine what that meant if I had it wrong. I stared at the sign a little longer before another truck drove by followed by an auto.

  I blinked at them amazed.

  Never seen that before.

  Then I remembered urgency.

  153 Gland Avenue, I remembered shaking my head.

  I looked both ways down the street and ran in the direction the numbers went down.

  Numbers I knew.

  They got bigger, one being the lowest and nine being the highest. Every number got another number tacked on when they went past nine. So the number 177 was higher than 153.

  A woman over a mile away on her porch shouted, “What is that?!” as I ran past.

  163 was not my number.

  Still, the properties over here were huger than a huge family ever needed. They were nice and warm in this colder season; some even adorned warm flowers I never even saw in warmer seasons.

  Concentrate, I ordered my wandering mind.

  I ran, concentrating on only the numbers. I even jumped over a group of children walking down the walk.

  I had to find—

  153. I really hope this is right.

  I was out of breath and couldn’t afford folly.

  I ran past a young woman crying on the porch.

  Her scent smelled heavily of dense trees and disordered chaos. It brought the word feral to mind.

  As her eye caught sight of me I carefully went around her with my ears lowered and my tail low. She watched me narrowly. I watched her as long as I dared to, and turned to the door.

  It was intimidating. The door. I couldn’t just open it like I was so accustomed to. Although it wasn’t impossible or scary. So I had to try. Especially with this woman here.

  I started to leap up to where the doorknob was when it suddenly opened and the person who I had searched for all this time appeared before me.

  “Thanos! Come on! How many times do I have to—You!” he kindly noticed.

  I didn’t hesitate.

  How do I find the gloom? Quickly! I have no time to dawdle!

  He blinked at me, turned to the woman, then back to me.

  Quickly
! I thought again.

  “What happened to you? Why are you looking for the gloom? Didn’t I tell you to stay away? Are you nuts?” he asked.

  I growled in frustration.

  The gloom attacked me but got away! I need to find it swiftly before it strikes again but I don’t know how! Do you know how to find it or not?

  I hoped he did, otherwise, it was a huge waste of my time to come.

  But the thing was I was sure that it wasn’t. He never knew when the thing would go mad and lash out at him. The only defense he’d have against it was knowledge, and I was sure he was pretty smart, if not tactless. After all, he was here to survive.

  He merely stared at me, and I saw the answer in his eyes.

  “Forget it,” he said.

  If water was cold when dumped on a person then this was icy.

  But … I need to know! There are lives at stake and it needs to be stopped immediately!

  “And you think you can? Please! You’re a lure, not a sentry. Your job is to sit and wait and not be killed. You think I’m gonna send you off to your death! Well, I’m not! Especially not after Cross ordered us to stay away from the gloom at any cost. You never met him, but Arrivers was lost to the gloom two nights ago. Go home, Glutton, and forget—”

  “The gloom resides in a well located in a meadow deep within the groves.”

  I looked at the woman, shocked at how young she sounded. Like a little girl, but when I got a better look at her I saw that sadness had aged her teenage face. That or she had gotten younger.

  She was thinner than me with honey-colored hair down to her knee. Her long lashes shaded her blue eyes, but her crooked nose did her pretty face no justice. Neither did all the black she wore, which was covered in white animal hair.

  Although it wasn’t her appearance that shocked me, but her angry, bitter voice and looming demeanor.

  Thanos! I heard dog-boy boom in my head.

  He stared angrily at her for a moment I didn’t have. I looked at the girl and she smiled with a perverse twist of her lips.

  “You’re wrong, Collin. I did hear you and I know exactly what is going on,” she said turning to me. I wondered if I missed something. “But you heard our poor Glutton. The desperation in her heart. I couldn’t bear deny her what you so cruelly deny me.”

  Something about her made my soul-self cringe and I wished she’d stop staring at me. I didn’t feel that I could trust her, but her words must’ve rung true based on dog-boy’s reaction.

  She raised her arm with that same misshapen smile, pointing at the window of the house, and I was confused.

  Dog-boy ran over to her and forced her arm down, risking a glance at me.

  “Knock it off, Thanos! I told you we’ll talk!”

  And I got it.

  A well located in a meadow deep within the groves.

  “Why so protective of a Glutton. Let it go if it so chooses. Ha Ah. Maybe it’ll gobble up the gloom and rid us of that problem,” she said bitterly. “Or maybe it’ll devour her. Either way, we’re rid of pests.”

  “What is wrong with y—Wait!”

  Too late. I was off.

  I took off in the direction she pointed. I hopped over gates and weaved past dogs, putting those two familiars far behind me. That monster. I was sure that was what that girl, Thanos, was. Something old and unstable.

  I ran past smaller properties, then normal properties, and then a small gathering place, and then nothing. There were many people, then there were none as all I ran past blurred together.

  I leapt over one final gate, landing in the tall grass leading into a thicket.

  I brushed past all the trees and small bushes, my fur being pulled, and small creatures holding on and pinching me. I ran and ran, and then I smelled something unnatural.

  It smells like… spring?

  I smelled warmth and grass and life, which was impossible.

  It’s too cold.

  When I reached the end of the thicket I paused.

  What I smelled was what I saw.

  Long green grass blew in the warm wind under a red setting sun.

  Insects buzzed all over the small area, while bunnies and birds peacefully grazed almost invisibly, hidden by the grass. Where I stood the grass was dead, the ground was frozen, and the vegetation asleep.

  It was unholy phenomenon.

  But I spotted my destination.

  A small brick well built above the grass.

  I took a step into the enchantment and nothing changed but the scent. I cringed at the rancid smell of rot. It was as if this entire place was decomposing before my nose and many creatures lie decaying before me. I saw no such thing.

  Still, I reluctantly continued to the well without incident. I hopped up to the rim and looked down.

  It was dried up at the bottom.

  I couldn’t jump. It was too far to the bottom.

  I looked around.

  Above me was a bucket, but I could see that the rope was horrendously frayed.

  I whined, laying my chin on the cold brick rim.

  This isn’t good.

  I lifted my chin and did the only thing I could think of.

  I turned, letting my hind legs dangle and began to climb down. I used my claws wherever the brick would permit, but otherwise, they were useless. Instead, I used the bricks that stuck more in or out than the others, or the cracks and missing bricks in-between.

  Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down, I told myself over and over.

  Now I know why cats would rather climb trees than climb back down. It was simply a terrifying mission: To know that a slippery paw uncertainly placed could fail you was miserable.

  Hey! Dumb-cat! Are you down there!

  I looked up and saw a red dog.

  Mm!

  I stopped where my legs strained to hold me flat against the well.

  Moron! Get back up here! I’m serious!

  I looked up and continued climbing back down.

  I couldn’t let this go. I had to persevere.

  Not for a promise, but for a fear. No. A hope.

  I can’t! I told him.

  I heard him growl.

  Why? And don’t tell me that you’re stuck!

  I looked down.

  No, you’re right! From the very beginning. I’m an idiot. I can’t think past myself unless a life is involved. Otherwise, I just act on impulses that confuse even me. I’m not coming back up. I might not ever come back up. Not until I’ve done all that I can to protect that girl!

  There was silence on his end. Not the best for morale but I’d prevail.

  I’m not going to stop you, am I? he eventually called down.

  I looked up and felt the littlest bit of joy.

  No!

  I heard him groan in my head.

  I don’t know why you’re so quick to die, but I can’t physically follow you. I’ll go get a rope for you so that when you finally come to your senses I can pull you up.

  That joy I felt burst into a feeling I couldn’t quite explain.

  Ah, thank you!

  Whatever. I’ll be right back. If you need help just call. I’ll try to get back as soon as I can!

  Okay!

  I called back up. Then I slipped.

  My claws couldn’t catch the wall and I fell, my heart in my throat as I…or, my hind feet touched the ground.

  I guess I was closer to the bottom than I realized.

  I rearranged myself and looked around and then up.

  I don’t think dog-boy was up there to give me any pointers.

  I don’t think he needed to.

  Once I lifted my head, the smell of mildew and a frigid world invaded my senses over the smell of death and decay. I looked straight ahead, only seeing a wall.

  My soul-self told me it was much more.

  I walked up to it and tentatively touched a paw to the wall.

  I was momentarily stunned when my paw became the stone itself and passed through. I quickly pulled it
back it back to me, as cold and hard as it still felt, but it was my paw.

  I stared at the wall.

  That, which is without form, I repeated a saying of my father, is a being inconsequential to fear.

  I pushed into the wall, becoming as still and cold as stone and mortar. And though the hard feeling was gone when I opened my eyes, I was still cold in the grim setting before me.

  There was nothing here. I absolutely meant that.

  Nothing.

  Not even air.

  I wasn’t even sure if I was still alive.

  There was nothing.

  Just darkness.

  I couldn’t fathom what I was thinking when I came here. How stupid was I to think that I was capable of anything good? Hadn’t I already proven that I was of no consequence to the world? Just trash too trivial to even throw away.

  I was something to be left alone and forgotten.

  “That’s right, Emare,” my mother told me.

  I blinked.

  It wasn’t possible.

  I stared at her a moment before looking at my own hands. My dress and shoes.

  I’m… human?

  “No!” I turned at my brother’s inflamed voice to see his angry face. “You’re a freak! It’s why everyone hates you! I hate it when you come around! Did you ever consider what it’s like for me when people ask who you are! Do you think I like telling people that my sis-ter-is-a-mon-ster-ruh!” Pohlin’s words slowed.

  They slowed but that made them no less clear.

  I covered my ears, but Father grabbed my hands and pulled them away.

  “Oh, Emare! What have you gotten yourself into now? You deserve to be punished when you’re such a Glutton for punishment. A Glutton too loutish to call my daughter. ”

  “Now Don! Pohlin!”

  My mother scolded my father and brother. She came behind me and hugged me from behind, pulling me away from Father.

  “She is still ours regardless of all the atrocities she’s committed.”

  “Mother?” I asked. “I’m so sorry,” I cried. “I tried. I really tried. But it was so hard. Things just got away from me. I failed to keep my promises.”

  Mother stroked my hair as she used to.

  It felt so much like it did back then. It felt real. All of this did. Though it was impossible.