by P. T. Hylton
Before she even realized what she was doing, she set the book down on the desk. She put the compass next to it so both her hands would be free. She lifted the cover and opened the book.
There was a poem on the first page.
Upward, outward, always spinning,
Always singing, faceless grinning.
As they open, time will close
In a place without shadows.
The writing on the next page was small and the language was one Sophie had never seen. It was handwritten in a strange, slanted hand. The pages were thicker than they looked, almost as heavy as card stock, but they turned easily. On the next page, there was a pencil drawing of some sort of strange bird creature.
As she flipped through the pages, she noticed the needle of the compass slowing. She flipped a bit farther. When she was about a third of the way through the book, the needle stopped altogether.
The two-page spread was filled with drawings. Drawings of trees.
Sophie picked up the compass and moved it near the page. The needle shifted as she moved the compass back and forth, and she realized it was pointing to one particular tree.
The drawing looked no different than any of the others to her, but it was clear the needle was fixed to that specific tree. It hadn’t steered her wrong so far.
She felt that tug again in the back of her head. It was like a voice she couldn’t hear, a song she couldn’t hum, but it was there. She knew what to do.
She saw a shape in her mind. The top of the shape was the letter z and the bottom of it was a circle.
Sophie reached out and touched her index finger to the drawing of the tree. She felt a small shock, like static electricity. Touching the paper ever-so-lightly, she traced the shape from her mind onto the paper.
3. Sanctuary
It was daytime, so no one from Sanctuary was there to see it happen. The only witnesses were the trees and the Larvae.
Near the center of the forest, if the forest had such a thing, stood an especially tall tree. A tree Jake visited once a week.
All the trees in this forest occasionally shifted locations, but this tree often seemed to move deeper into the wilderness, like it was trying to get farther away from the little gathering of people who called themselves Sanctuary.
Most of the trees in the forest had counterparts, reflections, in other places. Places like Rook Mountain, Tennessee, King’s Crossing, Wisconsin, and Bald Crop, Colorado. These trees were something more than trees. They drew their water, their food, their lives, from multiple places at once. And multiple times. Their root systems stretched across the ages.
This tree was different. It stood in only one place. It didn’t span time nor space. But it too was something more than a tree. Or perhaps something less.
The change started with the branches at the top of the tree, the ones so high the Larvae on the ground couldn’t see them. They began to recede, draw in on themselves. It was like a time-lapse video of a tree growing in reverse.
Soon most of the branches were gone, drawn into the trunk, and the trunk too began to shrink. It compressed in quick, jerky motions, seemingly withering away. The rough, cracked bark softened and puffed outward.
When the tree had shrunk down to no more than ten feet tall, the trunk began to split, developing what were clearly arms and legs.
And then it was over. The Larvae on the ground looked on, frozen with what might have been horror or shock or awe. And there he stood, naked and shivering but a wide smile on his face.
Zed had returned to human form.
4. Sanctuary
Nate was on the ground, playing with Mason when it happened. They were building castles in the mud near the Welcome Wagon. Logan would probably kill Nate when her son came home covered in dirt. He smiled at the thought. Served her right, leaving him to play babysitter.
Truth was, he liked spending time with Mason. He felt sorry for the kid. No one his own age to play with. No playgrounds or swing sets. No G.I. Joes or Thundercats or whatever toys kids played with these days. The boy lived his whole life on the thirty acres or so that made up the Sanctuary. His parents rarely allowed him on the trails, even at night.
His mother tried her best, and she was a good mom in her own way. His dad was nice enough, but distant, his head always on the mammoth tasks he felt were his duty.
So, when Nate saw the mud puddle, it occurred to him that the boy had never had the opportunity to build a sandcastle. He’d decided that needed to be rectified immediately, even if it meant using alternate building materials.
The mud here was odd. It was sticky and thick and smelled strongly of decomposition. Nate didn’t mind, and he didn’t think the kid did either. The stuff packed wonderfully. They were building a castle that stood taller and had more structural integrity than anything Nate had built at the beach.
Mason had taken to it immediately. He was more focused than Nate had never seen him. He took over as the leader of the project without any discussion, planning each spire and moat, and directing—and occasionally correcting—Nate’s efforts. And, Nate had to admit, the castle looked pretty good for something made of mud.
“Hey,” Nate said. He waited until the kid broke his focus away from the mud castle before continuing. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Mason's face scrunched up and he tilted his head. “What do you mean? I’ll be a man.”
Nate felt a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. The kid had no idea what Nate was asking. He’d never been exposed to the concept of a career. Nate instantly regretted the question. It was a dumb question anyway, such old-world, pre-Zed, pre-Sanctuary thinking. What do you want to be? Like people’s jobs define them.
“Agreed, you’ll be a man. What I meant was, what job do you think you’ll want? Do you want to be a chef? Or lead an out team like your mom? Or run the whole show here like your dad?”
“My dad will still be running the show. My mom will still be leading out teams. And we already have a chef.” He paused for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “Frasier is old as a goat, my mom always says. Maybe he’ll die and I’ll run the Welcome Wagon.” He turned back to his castle of mud.
The one thing Nate didn’t enjoy about hanging out with Mason was that the kid’s age made him think too hard about the future. Sanctuary was great for now. Jake had done an admirable job building the place from nothing. Not to mention the lives he’d saved. Every person here would be dead if it weren’t for Jake and his book bringing them here in their hour of need. But long term...that’s where things got dicey. Would they still be here fifty years from now, a new leader using the book and a whole new generation walking these trails?
Nate was one of the few, maybe the only one, who knew the scope of Jake’s plan, who knew there might actually be an endgame here, that they might not be stuck here for all of time. He knew their chances were slim, and hope was a frail thing. He mostly tried to put the distant future out of his mind.
He didn’t know how the rest of them, the ones without even that sliver of hope, coped. Maybe they were more optimistic than he was. Maybe they embraced the fact that they’d been saved from certain death and given a new life. Even if that new life could be tedious at times.
Mason’s eyes were focused on the in-progress tower that would serve as the castle’s prison. Without looking up, he said, “Leonard wants to talk to you.”
Nate twisted around and, sure enough, saw Leonard a ways down the trail.
In that glance, he knew something was terribly wrong. Leonard was likely the most easy-going person in Sanctuary, a gift that made him both a blessing and a curse to the community. He could be infuriatingly slow about things—things such as showing up for his shift on time. But his laid back attitude meant he was a nice guy to have around in a crisis.
Two things about what Nate saw now disturbed him: Leonard was pale as a ghost, and he was sprinting down the path toward them.
Nate struggled to his feet.
Leonar
d stumbled to a stop in front of Nate. “Oh, thank God.”
“What is it?” Nate asked. He tried to mask the concern in his voice, but he knew he had failed. His first thought was that another rule had been broken. Someone was hurt or even dead. His mind reeled in panic at the thought. There had never been two banishments this close together. He didn’t know if Jake could physically do it. It seemed to take him a longer to recover from each banishment now, and this one had hit him harder than most.
Leonard opened his mouth. No words came out, and Nate stood there for what felt like a minute staring into the thin man’s black gaping maw.
“Come on, out with it.”
Leonard shook his head. “I can’t...I don’t know how to say it. Let me show you.”
Nate nodded briskly, and then glanced back at Mason. “Is it safe to bring the kid?”
“I’m not sure...I’m sorry, I really don’t know.”
Nate groaned. “Mason, come on. We have to go.”
Mason didn’t look up. “I’m building my castle.”
“You can build it later!” The timbre of his voice surprised him. It was sharper than he’d intended. He sounded just like his own father had when he’d been angry.
Mason sighed and reluctantly got to his feet. He made a great show of brushing the mud off his hands. Nate put a hand on his back to guide him.
“Where we going?” Nate asked Leonard.
“Jake’s house.”
Nate kept Mason in front of him, and close. He had no idea what they were walking into and he wanted to be able to grab the kid if the need arose. Plus, Mason had a tendency to wander, and Nate didn’t want to keep looking back to see if he was still there.
Nate decided to try an alternate approach with Leonard. “So you were there? You were outside Jake’s house when it happened?”
“Yeah.” His voice was hollow. Nate realized the man was terrified. “I was walking and I saw him.”
“Him who?”
But Leonard would say no more. They passed the next two minutes in silence. Nate took a deep breath before rounding the curve that would bring Jake’s house into sight. He didn’t know what he’d see, but if it had spooked Leonard, it wasn’t likely to be pretty.
At first glance, he noticed nothing amiss. He’d expected something disturbing on a grand scale. Blood splattered everywhere or someone chopping up other people with an ax or something. But nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Then he saw a pale figure crouched by the side of the house.
He pulled Mason toward him and spun him around, looking him in the eyes. “Wait here. Got it?”
Mason nodded.
“I’m serious. Stay right here and don’t wander off no matter what happens.”
The kid nodded again.
Nate wasn’t sure of the man’s identity, but two things were very clear: the man was naked, and he was digging in the dirt. The man’s body was smeared with mud, and he was facing the house, giving Nate a clearer rear view than he appreciated.
Nate crept forward. When he was ten yards away, he said, “Excuse me.”
A low mumbling came from the naked man.
Nate took a step forward. “I didn’t catch that.” When there was no reply, he said, “What are you doing? You’re digging up the boss’s yard.”
This time he did hear the response. The voice was low and throaty, and it had a gurgle to it as if the man were drinking a glass of water while speaking. “I left something. Under the ground. In the dirt.”
Nate took another step forward. Was it possible Jake had brought this man over and forgotten to tell anyone? That could explain the confusion. “Okay. Maybe I can help. What did you leave?”
A strange, bubbling laugh came from the man. “There was so much of me down there. I was everywhere. I felt so much at once. All the bugs and creepy, crawly things. Some of them were bitey. And the water! I could pull the water right out of the dirt.”
The voice sounded suddenly familiar.
The man turned and smiled at Nate, revealing teeth caked with dirt. “I can’t do that anymore. I tried, I sucked the dirt as hard as I could, but it didn’t work.”
That was a smile Nate had seen before. The naked man was Vance.
Nate staggered backwards. “Vance, what happened?”
But Vance had turned his attention back to the black soil in his hands.
Nate marched back to Leonard. “What happened? Tell me everything.”
Leonard shook his head. “I- I don’t know. He just came out of the woods. I tried to talk to him, but he brushed past me. He dropped to the ground. He stuck his face into the dirt and started chewing.”
Nate’s head was spinning. How was this possible? No one had ever come back from banishment before. It was a one-way trip. What the hell was he supposed to do now? And where was Jake?
He took a deep breath. “Okay, listen. I need to find the boss. I want you to stay here with Vance.”
Leonard’s eyes widened. “You want me to what?”
Nate put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. Let him do...whatever he’s doing. And don’t get too close. Keep him in sight. Copy?”
Leonard nodded, eyes on his naked former friend.
Nate froze. What he saw drained the color from his face. Another naked, dirt-covered person was staggering out of the woods. This one Nate recognized immediately. It was Helen. Helen, who had been banished over a year ago.
“No,” Nate whispered. “No, no, no. This isn’t good.”
Leonard saw her too now. “Holy shit, Nate. What do we do?”
Nate didn’t answer. If these two were out, it stood to reason the others might be too. And if they were all out, that meant…
He grabbed Mason’s hand and sprinted down the trail.
5. Rook Mountain
Sean felt the cold metal of the kid’s gun pressing against his back. He took the hammer out of his closet, the same closet he’d kept the coin in for all those years. The door had one of Frank’s locks on it, so the Zed Heads wouldn’t even have known the closet was there when they searched the house.
Grant said, “Hold it up so I can see it.”
Sean held up the hammer, turning it so they could clearly make out the broken clock symbol.
A wide smile broke out on the other kid’s face. He was taller than Grant. Sean didn’t know his name and couldn’t remember ever having seen him before tonight. He supposed the kid had seen him, though. He’d surely been one of the creeps standing on Sean’s sidewalk that night when Colt came to talk. He might even have been the one who threw the brick through the windshield for all Sean knew. But, if Sean had to guess, he’d have said Colt probably reserved that honor for himself.
Grant took a step back, pulling the gun away from Sean’s spine. “Okay, we’re gonna walk to my car now. You first, me following. Go slow. If you don’t feel my gun on your back, that means you’re walking too fast. And if you’re walking too fast, I’m gonna shoot you.”
Sean glanced at the hoodie on the recliner. He’d left his Swiss Army knife in the pocket. Not much of a weapon, but better than nothing. “Mind if I grab my sweatshirt?”
The gun jammed into his back. “Yeah, I do. Start walking.”
Sean made his way out to the car, walking slowly and making sure his back didn’t lose contact with the gun.
The car was a newish four-door sedan. Sean wondered if this was Grant’s parents’ car, and, if so, how they would feel about it being used to abduct a police officer.
Grant opened the back seat door and waved him in. The tall boy slid in next to him, and Grant got in the driver’s seat.
“It won’t be long now,” Grant said. His voice sounded high and childlike. Sean wondered if he was trying to comfort Sean or himself. He actually felt bad for the kid for a moment, the way he was in so deep over his head. But only for a moment.
As they drove, Sean glanced back as casually as he was able, looking for headlights behind him. He saw none.
The car
rolled to a stop on a darkened street in downtown Rook Mountain. A single streetlight illuminated a tree. The tree where he and Wendy had found the writing. A group of at least twenty teenagers stood on the sidewalk near the tree, waiting in the dark.
It suddenly occurred to Sean that he’d spent nine years successfully concealing his involvement in the Unregulated from Zed only to be brought down by a bunch of teenagers. Like a damn Scooby Doo villain.
Grant shut off the car. The tall boy got out, pulling Sean after him. Sean walked forward, the hammer in his hand, and made his way to the tree where Colt stood waiting for him.
Colt said, “What we’re doing here tonight will be remembered. They’ll write songs about it. I know you aren’t too psyched to be here, but soon you’ll understand you’re being given a great honor. A great privilege.”
Sean frowned. “Where are the Haverts?”
Colt ignored the question. “You spent nine years defending the Regulations. By all accounts, you did a good job. You weren’t a sadist like some of them, but you didn’t shirk from your duty either.”
Images flashed through Sean’s mind of the Regulations he’d enforced. Things he’d never told anyone, would never tell anyone. The things he’d done to protect the coin from Zed.
“It must have been tough for you too,” Colt continued, “going back to a pre-Regulation society. Throwing aside the world you’d been working so hard to build and pretending it never happened. In some ways, I think it was harder on you adults than it was on us. You have so much social pressure to conform.”
Sean looked at the kids standing around the tree. “I’m the one conforming, huh?”
“The point is, we don’t blame you. We know it’s not your fault, everything that’s happened. The media, the government, all the people who weren’t here, they’ll never understand what we went through.”
Sean sighed. He’d had enough of this. He was tempted to take a swing at the kid, but there were at least eight guns pointed at him, and those were just the ones he could make out in the darkness. “You want the hammer or not?”