by Coleman Luck
But then he squinted through the crack. Down the street a block away something was moving. Another dog. And unquestionably this one was real. He watched as it trotted briskly in his direction with its tongue lolling out as though on a morning stroll. When it arrived beneath the statue, it stopped, sat down, cocked its head, and barked. It looked a little like the dog that had been on the plane, but how in the world could it have gotten here? As he stared in amazement, the old mutt jumped up and chased its tail, barking. Then it sat down and seemed to look straight at him. Alex laughed out loud. The dog pricked up its ears, tilted its head, and went around to the metal door and began scratching. Climbing down from the ledge, Alex lifted the latch and cracked the door open.
“What’d you do, lose the old lady and swim ashore? You must be a good swimmer. You look different.”
He was sure it was the same dog, yet it was smaller than he remembered. Much smaller. Like normal size. He told himself that he had been half asleep and must not have seen it clearly on the plane. Everything else was the same—well, no dagger teeth, just regular ones—but all the rest, the scars and ragged fur.
“You are one old bag of fleas. And I guess you look friendly enough. So what happens if I let you in? You gonna bite me?”
As he opened the door, the dog trotted back out into the street, sat down, and stared at him.
“Here, dog. Come here, boy.”
The only response was a slight tilt of the head.
“I said, come here.”
What followed was an embarrassing series of attempts to get the animal to obey. These included hand gestures, verbal wheedling, insults, and whistles, all to no avail. If anything, the dog seemed to be enjoying the show. It continued staring at him and grinning, but without budging an inch. Finally Alex gave up.
“Stay out there, then. That’s fine with me.”
He was about to shut the door when it walked over and licked his hand. The move was so startling that for a moment he was speechless.
“So you aren’t deaf after all.”
He scratched its ears, then tried to pull it inside. This was no easy task, because it had no collar. And clearly, inside was not where it wanted to go. Finally it jerked away, grabbed his sleeve, and tried to drag him in the opposite direction.
“Hey, stop that.”
But the dog was very insistent.
“You got spit all over my sleeve.”
Trudging back into the middle of the street, it started barking.
“Be quiet. Shut up. You’re gonna wake up the whole city.”
As they stared at each other, Alex became aware of a rumbling in his stomach.
“Okay, you’re right. I can’t stay in here forever. I gotta find food. What have you been eating?”
The dog turned and trotted off.
“Hey, where you going?”
Pausing, it looked back, then continued on. Alex knew that he had to make a decision. If he was ever going to leave his hiding place, there was no better time than now. Maybe the mutt would protect him. Cautiously he stepped outside.
“All right, I’m coming.”
The animal waited. Alex gulped. To follow it, he had to walk past the dog statues. They were huge, almost as tall as he was. And the memory of the night before was so creepy that he half expected them to come alive and tear him apart. Why would anybody put hundreds of dog statues in the middle of a street? It didn’t make sense. Finally he was beyond them. But even then he kept looking back to make sure they hadn’t moved.
The old dog led him to the fountain, and there they both took a long drink.
“Okay, here’s the deal. Your job is to find me breakfast. And I don’t want any rotten stuff. You got that? Just find me something.”
Grinning, as though he knew exactly what Alex had said, the animal walked away. As Alex followed, he told himself that this might not be the wisest idea. The mutt wasn’t going to lead him to a Taco Bell. But he was a seeing-eye dog. Maybe he was trained to take orders like “go find food.” Blind people had to eat. And sometimes wasn’t it possible that they could get stuck in weird places…like dead cities?
Why sure, that made perfect sense.
The city was like a maze, and very soon Alex was hopelessly lost. His guide ambled up one street and down another, past hundreds of monstrous piles that looked like buildings but probably weren’t. Often he thought he heard scurrying sounds, but nothing ever appeared. They were headed inland and the walking wasn’t easy. The streets were clotted with rotting vines, and it was a struggle just to stay on his feet. And not one thing around him ever started looking normal. Creepiest of all, there were ugly carvings everywhere—twisted serpents with gargoyle faces, giant beetles with long tweezer-thin legs, and hundreds of roach-things with stingers in their tails. The roach-things seemed to have been an especially popular motif. They came in a variety of delightful sizes.
The whole place was beyond disgusting.
The farther he walked, the more he began to believe that it wasn’t a city at all. What if it was a giant graveyard? He thought about the ghosts that had passed so close to him. What if they hadn’t been a nightmare? What if they had been coming home to their graves?
The “city” was even larger than Alex had thought. But the old dog seemed to know exactly where he was going. He moved at the same brisk pace, never stopping, even when Alex had to crawl through slimy tunnels of green vine-gunk. Invariably he emerged, cursing every leaf that had smeared him. Eventually he started cursing the dog. But the animal didn’t seem to care. It never looked back.
After an hour the “buildings” became smaller and the vines thinned out. Which made walking easier but didn’t improve Alex’s mood. The rumbling in his belly had become a cramp.
“Hey, you stupid mutt, I’m starving to death. They eat dogs in China, you know! I could go for a big Western bacon dog-burger right now.”
No response.
Finally they entered an avenue lined with overgrown gardens. It was under a large tree with a limb that jutted out over the street that the animal stopped and looked up. Every branch was heavy with golden fruit. Suddenly Alex’s hunger was overwhelming. Picking a piece, he examined it. It was soft and smelled like roses. He was just about to take a bite, when he stopped. Strange fruit could kill you. It wasn’t so much dying of poison that bothered him, but the thought of going irretrievably nuts with a bad case of diarrhea on top of it. If seawater could do what it had done to his brain, the wrong kind of fruit might turn him into a howling, pooping maniac. In spite of his hunger, he was about to toss it away when the dog walked over to a piece that had fallen on the ground…and bit into it.
Alex stared. “A dog that eats fruit. Did they train you to do that in seeing-eye school?”
He took another bite.
“Okay, I get it. I just hope you’re not stupid enough to kill us both. I guess we’re gonna find out.”
As though forced to take awful medicine, Alex bit into the piece he was holding. Never had anything tasted so delicious. Fear vanished as the sweet juice dripped down his chin. The flavor was hard to describe—one mouthful was like cherries, the next like peaches; there was even a little pineapple in it. He ate and ate, making a pig of himself. When he couldn’t hold another bite, he stuck half a dozen pieces in his shirt. Instantly the old dog trotted off again.
“Hey, wait. Where you going? I like this place. Let’s stay here awhile.”
He didn’t stop. Irritated, but not knowing what else to do, Alex followed. A few minutes later they turned a corner and he found himself at the edge of the city. In front of him stood a massive arch with broken walls on either side. Beyond lay a road leading into a gloomy forest. Without slowing, the dog headed toward it.
Alex hesitated. He didn’t like the look of it, but the alternative was spending another night in the city and finding out whether the ghosts were real. Not a difficult choice. Alex hurried toward the forest.
The road through the trees was ancient. It would have di
sappeared long ago if it hadn’t been made of heavy paving stones. For centuries iron wheels had rolled over them creating deep ruts and ridges. After that must have passed centuries when no one used the road at all, because the stones were broken and heavy with slick moss. It was like trying to walk on clumps of greasy cotton. But if walking on the road was nasty, walking beside it was worse. The ground was blanketed with thorny weeds that could send you sprawling. Cursing under his breath, Alex chose to slip and slide in the ruts.
Hours passed…and the dog was tireless. On and on it loped through the gloom with Alex stumbling after it. The deeper they went into the forest, the more oppressive it became. An eerie, dead kind of feeling hung in the trees. Other than the dog, never did he see another animal or even hear the chirp of a bird.
Several times they stopped for water. Each time Alex ate a piece of fruit.
Then it was on again.
Daylight turned into twilight, and the forest transformed into a surreal world of giant, misty shadows until Alex could barely see. After a particularly bruising fall he yelled, “That’s it, I’m finished.” He was about to slump to the ground when the animal ran up, took hold of his pants, and started pulling.
“Hey, stop that. Get away from me.”
But it didn’t let go.
“Jerk dog.” He kicked it as hard as he could. The blow landed on the animal’s stomach and it groaned. As it let loose, a strange hurt came into its eyes. Instantly Alex was filled with guilt. “Okay, I didn’t mean to do it that hard. But you gotta stop pulling on my clothes. I’m tired and I can’t go any farther.”
To his disgust, the mutt took hold of his pants and started pulling again.
“I don’t believe this.”
But it only did it for a moment; then it ran across the road and disappeared into a jumble of trees and bushes. Then it barked, clearly wanting Alex to follow. Aggravated, Alex crossed the road and pushed through the weeds. He hadn’t gone more than twenty feet when he came to a large boulder. The dog disappeared behind it, and when he followed, he found the entrance to a shallow cave—the perfect place to spend the night. Grumpily he crawled in and discovered a soft bed of pine needles.
“Why didn’t you tell me this was where you were going? It would have made things a lot easier.” It was a dumb thing to say, but he was too tired to care. A moment after lying down, he was asleep.
Darkness came…and with it a chill. The dog never closed his eyes. He lay at the entrance to the cave, watching and listening. And while he watched, Alex slept. The chill never touched him. It couldn’t get past the crimson shadow at the entrance that loomed like a living wall.
12
TREE IN THE SKY
When the night mist burned off, Bellwind’s island disappeared with it, which made Amanda feel even more lonely. She looked down at the little boy asleep in her arms; how strange and beautiful he was, so peaceful and content. She whispered to him, “Little baby, if you knew what was happening right now you’d freak. I’m gonna do the best I can, but I’m really scared. You know, it’s funny, Bellwind didn’t even tell me your name.”
All that day they drifted. When the baby awoke, Amanda played with him and fed him a few pieces of fruit. That’s all he wanted. Not once did he cry. Finally the sun set and the moon appeared.
Amanda was napping when she heard the sound of water on a beach. Turning her head, she stared. Several hundred yards away lay a narrow strip of sand and beyond that a jumble of low vegetation. Bellwind had said there would be a path, but she had warned against traveling at night. At night her enemies had great power. If they landed in darkness, the plan was to find shelter and wait until morning. Amanda hoped morning would come soon.
As the raft drew closer to the shore, she saw something odd: sticking out of the vegetation at the edge of the beach was a row of mysterious shadows. Leaning forward, she squinted. They were rectangular silhouettes, like sections of a broken wall. She was straining so hard to see, that it was a shock when the raft ran aground on the sandy bottom.
“Don’t tell me this is as close as we’re gonna get. Come on, move!” She tried rocking back and forth, but it wouldn’t budge. Disgusted, she pulled the knapsack over her shoulders. Should she take off her shoes? If I cut my foot on a stone I’m screwed, she thought. Reluctantly she decided to leave them on.
After rolling her jeans as high as she could, Amanda picked up the baby and stepped into the ocean. The water was cold and came to her knees. Cautiously she waded up onto the beach; the area covered by low vegetation sloped gradually upward for several hundred yards until it met larger shadows that she took to be a forest. All around her was a feeling of strangeness and gloom.
She had to find someplace to hide.
Not far away were the moonlit shapes. Walking toward them, she discovered that they were individual blocks of stone crumbled by the wind and rain of centuries. Hundreds stood in long rows that stretched away into the darkness, but only their tops were visible above a heavy mat of vines. She examined one; there was carving on it, letters in a strange language, and above the letters, a face with ghostly eyes. The stone next to it was the same, except the “face” was smaller.
“I know what this is. This is a graveyard. I’ve gotta spend the rest of the night next to a bunch of graves.” But she wasn’t going to freak. If she freaked, she’d scare the baby. Bellwind had said the path would be close. Maybe she could find it and hide near it.
Amanda began walking up the beach. After a hundred yards there was still no break in the vegetation.
“Okay, so, where’s the stupid path?” It was supposed to come right down to the water. There was enough moonlight; she should see it. But she didn’t. The thought occurred to her that Bellwind had never been here. Not exactly the best person to give directions. And there was no place to hide except in the vines next to the graves. She shivered. Crawling in there would be totally creepy. As she tried to think of what to do, suddenly there was an odd sound.
It came again…a whirling rush like wind in the treetops.
But there was no wind.
The third time it was much louder—and closer.
As she stared into the darkness, Amanda realized that the air above the graveyard had changed. It wasn’t clear anymore. High up, a vague shadow had formed; at first she thought it was her imagination, but then she knew it wasn’t. The shadow was growing, and as it grew, it blocked out the stars. A voice in her head yelled, HIDE.
Hugging the baby, she dropped to the ground and crawled into the vines. There she waited, trembling. For several minutes everything was quiet. Finally her curiosity got the better of her and she peeked out.
The shadow in the sky was transforming. From black it turned to gray and then to white. And as it became visible, it boiled and surged like a thunderhead. Then with a mighty rush it shot upward into a pillar thousands of feet tall. For a moment it hung motionless.
Then lights appeared.
From inside the pillar flashed gigantic beams of red and green, blue and purple. Up and down they swirled, leaving trails of glistening mist. As they moved faster and faster, out of them dropped thousands of smaller lights that raced and spun in every direction like a dance of fiery stars. Amanda stared at them. She had never seen anything so beautiful. As the lights grew brighter and swirled faster, her fear vanished and she felt a dreaming kind of ecstasy. Suddenly nothing mattered but seeing the lovely lights.
Laying the baby down, she walked out into the open. They were like streaming angels, and seeing them made her want to dance. Stretching out her arms, Amanda began to twirl.
If only she could fly.
If only she could dance with them.
Dance with the angels forever.
Filled with joy, she cried out, “You’re so beautiful. I love you.”
Instantly from the bottom of the pillar appeared a brilliant shaft of light that shot down into the middle of the graveyard. And in the light Amanda saw the path. “There it is. That’s why you came
, isn’t it? To show me the way. Oh, thank you, thank you.”
She had barely spoken the words when the beam shifted straight onto her. Bathed in the shimmering brightness, she looked up…and her smile faded. The joy changed to confusion; and then to horror.
She couldn’t move. Her arms and legs…her whole body was frozen.
The pillar began to gnarl and glow, and then caught fire. Above her hung a blazing tree, and from it grew a thousand twisted limbs and branches that spread upward in a raging mass. Out of the bottom fell steaming roots that dangled to the ground. Amanda saw them slithering toward her. Still she couldn’t move. In a moment she was surrounded. Only when there was no escape did the light release her. Collapsing to the ground, she gasped. All her strength was gone.
A burning tendril appeared on a gravestone above the baby. The little boy was lying on his back, cooing and clapping as though it were the most fascinating thing that he had ever seen.
Amanda screamed, “No!” It felt as though her body had turned to lead. With every ounce of will she dragged herself across the sand toward him. The roots were everywhere. As she crawled, one of them slithered over her ankle. The pain was so great that she almost passed out. When her vision cleared, she screamed again. The tendril was dangling toward the little boy.
“Get away!”
Lunging forward, she tried to hit at it. But it was like hitting mist. Everywhere she touched it, it burned her skin. The root was inches from the child. Then the most unexpected thing happened. The child reached out his hand…and with one tiny finger…touched it.
The tendril froze.
For a heartbeat nothing happened.
And then suddenly there was a rushing, sucking wind and a blood-red explosion. Sweeping out from the baby’s touch roared crimson darkness. Higher and higher it streaked…up the roots…up the trunk…and out to every limb and branch across the sky. Then with a shriek and a gigantic flash…the tree disappeared.