The Black

by Neil Mosspark

  “Mixing?” Tony asked.

  “There is a story I was told as a child that once two worlds existed. They both tried to occupy the same space, and they both lost. Mothers tell the story to their children to explain how we should respect each other’s space. In the end it’s the only way to explain why buildings are mixed with stones, the ground is hollow in some places, raised in others. There are things there that none of us can explain.”

  “You should stay away from there; it’s where the worst of the people congregate,” the mayor said, shaking his head and stepping back from the table.

  “If it’s at the very centre, then we need to get to it. At least take a look,” Tony said.

  “How long will it take us to get down there?” Dave asked.

  Serif chewed the inside of his lip. “Two days. We would likely make it there by evening on the second day if we moved quickly.”

  “What’s the squares? These are different?”

  “It’s a cluster of tall buildings. Towers mostly. No one ventures inside. Many of them have collapsed. These are what remains.”

  “Tony, you see the concentric rings on the map,” Dave noted.

  He outlined with his hands rings of buildings at the centre, interspaced with missing buildings and empty areas, each concentric ring widening like ripples in a pond.

  “It does look like that, doesn’t it,” Tony agreed. “What are they?”

  “The rings are different. The buildings end, and open areas of grasslands. Farmers work the fields where they can. At least where the heavies are less frequent. This ring—” he pointed to a twin pair of lines midway from the center to the city, “—is a deep chasm that stretches all the way around the city. To cross we need to pay tribute to the bridge masters. They keep the zealots from crossing by use of force and minimize the damage they can do. The bridges only allow one or two to cross at a time, and if you don’t pay tribute, you are killed.”

  “Sounds reasonable.” Dave leaned back, crossing his arms. “What do you think, Tony?”

  “When we get down there, it will be easier to tell what the initiating event did to the area. The pattern of how the area around it should be pretty clear. I don’t think it will take much to spot it.”

  The front door burst open, and Genie stepped through. Silently, she motioned with her head for Serif to come out. Everyone stepped away from the map and followed into the street.

  A man stood statue-still in the middle of the village’s one street. Doors were closed, windows covered by curtains. Dave half expected a tumbleweed to roll by, but instead the zealot raised its hands and started walking forward.

  “She wants the newcomers.” The man’s hoarse voice echoed down the narrow road. “My queen just wants to talk to them. We seek peace.”

  A figure up on the nearby room rose from a concealed position, a bow in hand, pulled back, and nocked a dark arrow aimed focused at the zealot.

  Dave could smell the man’s body odour now, stinking of rot and decay.

  “She wishes to be friends.” The man’s motions while he walked were slow and swaying, with a slight drag in his feet as he stepped, like he didn’t have the energy to lift them any more than he needed to.

  “If you give her the newcomers, she will never come up here. She will leave you in peace.”

  “Peace?” Serif said, stepping out toward the man. “You attacked us last night. What about the truce? We don’t interfere with you if you don’t interfere with the outer ring?”

  The man stopped, and his head lifted up, staring at the sky, his arms raised as though he was catching an invisible shower of rain or snow in his mouth and hands. Dave felt a shiver go down his spine as he recalled the blissful feeling that came with the dust.

  The man’s head snapped back. “Decide now, or she will come and take what is hers. She is the queen of —”

  Serif nodded, and the arrow was released, arcing through the air and skewering the man’s head. The lifeless husk dropped, unmoving like a puppet with its strings cut. Serif drew his machete and walked down the street. His hands flitted in some agreed sign language to the figure on the roof, and the man moved away. Genie turned and stepped down the alley.

  “Where are they going?” Tony asked.

  “To hunt,” Serif stated. He pulled a small container of fluid from his belt, spraying it on the body. Serif plucked a small flare from his belt and sparked it. The red blaze spilled acrid smoke as he tossed it onto the body. “He was not the only one. There are always more.”

  “How many of them are there?” Dave asked.

  “There is no end to them,” Serif stated, watching the fire rise to consume the body. “We need to leave. She knows you are here. You are a danger to everyone the longer you stay.”

  Hours later, as the diffuse light of the dome rose, the mayor had his people pack bags full of supplies. Food, water, and extra clothes were laid into the bags and sat heavy on their backs. Dave had added the roll of det cord and the extra chemical igniter that arrived with them.

  “I wish we could have chatted longer,” the mayor said.

  “It’s for the best,” Tony replied. “I’m sorry we brought this trouble to your doorstep.”

  “It’s no trouble. We pay Serif good money to keep us safe. The rest of his people will be along shortly to ensure it stays that way. His people are very effective. Besides, you are trying to save everyone here.”

  “Thanks for the food and clothes. You were a good host.” Dave leaned in to shake the man’s hand.

  “Good luck.” Something in the mayor’s face betrayed that he did not expect them to return.

  Serif, Genie, and the Archer stood in the middle of the dirt road, conferring for a moment before the archer began jogging away toward the centre.

  “It’s time to go,” Serif called out. “We have a day’s journey and have started later than I wanted. We need to get to the buildings before nightfall.

  Dave nodded and waved to the mayor and the group that had crowded around him. They waved back quietly this time.

  “They will remember you for the rest of their lives,” Serif stated as the walked to the end of the road and out onto the green grass of the gently sloping hill. As they walked, Dave kept an eye on the distant city. The blue glass and steel of the spires crowded the ancient downtown core.

  It hadn’t taken more than a few hours of walking before Dave began to miss his well-worn boots. He was disappointed that the work boots had been disposed of due to the contamination of the dust. He wore ancient leather sneakers, and by the feel, they had likely been repaired numerous times. Rough stitches irritated his sockless feet as they moved across the open grass.

  After a few hours, Serif told them that they should take a break, and they simply stopped in the grass and sat down, taking the weight off their feet and catching their breath.

  Genie remained on her feet as she surveyed the area.

  “Do you ever talk?” Dave asked her.

  She looked at him and pointed to her mouth, then made a snipping motion.

  “Years ago there was the start of a cult. It focused on one of the non-humans as being a deity. Someone decided that to get closer to their God, they should never speak. Eventually that became the practice of cutting out their own tongues. After a few years, they began to ‘enlighten’ their children. Soon afterward, the cult was wiped out. Only the children remain. She is one of them.

  She spat angrily on the ground and turned away.

  “It’s a point of anger,” Serif stated.

  “Non-humans?” Tony asked.

  “Yes.”

  “We don’t have non-humans on the outside,” Dave stated.

  Serif nodded and thought for a moment. “There are many different non-humans here. Most do not want to interact with us. We are safe from them.”

  “What do they look like?” Tony asked.

  Serif shrugged. “Different. You have to see them to understand. We won’t see any on this trip. It’s hard to find them, a
nd you both are too loud.”

  Serif stood up, dusting off the dirt from the ground. “We should be able to make the outer ring of buildings by nightfall. There are some zealots out here, but they are not fully converted. Think of them like people who have been dusted once who still want to stay away from the queen so they can live like normal people, but they need the dust to live. Try not to judge them too harshly, but be aware that some may try to kidnap you in trade for some dust. Stay close, and don’t let them take you.”

  The two men followed suit and stood, walking behind him.

  The walk through the smooth plains of the grass became rockier as time went on and they closed the distance. Already the light was beginning to dim, and Dave was having a hard time seeing the distant buildings.

  Serif saw something and changed direction. “Stay clear of the heavy.” At the last second, Dave saw the depression in the ground and veered away. The memory of getting stuck in the tunnel was still vivid. The idea of being crushed flat while not being able to move didn’t seem appealing.

  As they approached a short row of buildings, Dave noticed that they were two-storey red-brick row houses. Front yards were overgrown, and the wrought iron gates on the fronts were rusted from their hinges. Many of the windows were broken, and tattered curtains blew in the pervasive gentle breeze.

  “Stay here,” Serif ordered, walking up to the door of the house. The archer that had started ahead of them melted out of the shadows of the interior, and they conferred for a moment.

  Tony and Dave could see Serif wave them forward. Genie followed behind; her small hatchet was out in her hand, and she panned her eyes around, never settling on anything for too long.

  Serif stood at the door. “Inside, quickly. We are being followed.”

  They entered standing in the almost pitch black. Dave could hear other people moving around inside on the floor above them.

  “Come. Follow me. Stay quiet,” Serif whispered, stepping through the house and over the fallen back door.

  The wooden door rattled a little as they all walked across, but once in the back yard, Dave could see the tall back fence and an alley between the houses.

  They squeezed between two bushes and out into the open space of the alley before turning left and jogging for a few minutes. Dave could see Tony’s face wince as he tried to keep weight off his injured ankle.

  “In here,” Serif whispered, indicating the backyard of an ancient home.

  Dave stepped in, and the Archer pushed him to the right. The man’s gloved hand motioned to kneel and get low. Genie and Serif followed them and stood on either side of the back door.

  A group of figures ran by, breathing heavily and kicking up gravel as they went. Dave felt himself tighten for the fight when their pursuers stopped only a few metres past the back yard entrance.

  He could hear them breathing. The gravel at their feet ground into the ancient asphalt. None spoke.

  The group continued jogging away.

  Dave let himself relax only after he could no longer hear their footfalls.

  Serif motioned to follow, and he slipped along the side of the house. Finding the metal security gate open, he stepped cautiously out into the front yard. The remaining diffuse light was fading quickly.

  Dave could only see his shadow look left and right to check the street before sprinting across toward the far house. The Archer motioned for them to follow Serif, and he and Genie closed up the rear.

  Once across they ascended the brick staircase and entered the house, ducking into a room to the left. A large, windowless bathroom lay in a dilapidated state.

  As soon as they all had entered, the Archer closed the door behind them.

  A small spark and a candle lit after a few tries.

  Dave could see the bare room with rotting drywall and plaster. Around the tub, tiles had broken off and lay in piles on the floor. The peeling wallpaper and collapsing ceiling seemed to amplify his feeling of vulnerability.

  “We will be safe here until the first light. Try to get some sleep. Genie will take watch just outside the door.”

  Dave unrolled a small blanket and lay on top of it, using his pack as a pillow. It was a long time before he could close his eyes. Only after Serif had leaned against a corner and pulled his hood up did Dave feel permission to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

  Chapter 13

  Dave woke to the rising light from under the bathroom door.

  It had been a troubled sleep, and he had woken a number of times in the night to Serif and his people changing shifts.

  The door swung open gently, and Serif stood over Tony and Dave. “Time to go. It’s light out, and we need to get moving.”

  Dave sat up and rubbed the stubble on his cheeks before gathering up his things. He could see that Tony was still exhausted.

  “Trouble sleeping?” Dave asked.

  Tony nodded. “I don’t think I slept at all. Did you?”

  “For a bit. Not much, though.”

  With bags loaded, Dave and Tony stepped out into the hallway. The rest of the house had been shrouded in darkness when they entered. On seeing it in the light, Dave realized that the bathroom was in better condition than the rest of the house.

  Through a nearby broken window, he could see the street. People with bags of goods, some with hand carts or hand-made wheel barrels rolled back and forth. It was getting busy as the morning bustle started.

  He turned to Serif, who was speaking to the archer. The man nodded before disappearing into the hallway. The fading sound of footfalls indicated that he was scouting ahead again.

  “Is he missing his tongue as well?” Tony asked.

  Serif shook his head. “No, he just doesn’t talk much.”

  After a moment of eating some dried bread and meat and tending to their bladders, they were on their way out the back door. Exiting into the light they could see the overgrown streets. Vines climbed the sides of the buildings, completely covering them with ivy in some cases. Others had collapsed inward from disrepair. Through the cracks in the concrete and potholed asphalt, clusters of weeds and grass grew to knee height in places. A few people gave fleeting looks and shoulder checks, but none seemed interested in the group beyond worrying for their own safety.

  “A lot has changed,” Tony said, breaking the silence.

  Genie gave him a quizzical look.

  “To us, only ten years or so has passed. We never expected to find a city inside the bubble. In fact, we expected that everything would be destroyed. Flattened.”

  Her hand reached out and guided his elbow gently to the side, while her other hand pointed at the pavement.

  A circle of rocks had been laid around a very subtle depression in which some rags and material had collected.

  “Heavy,” Dave stated, realizing how hard it was to see them in the concrete and asphalt. The small sphere of increased gravity had trapped garbage and whatever materials had blown inside.

  “Thanks,” Tony said.

  Genie nodded and released his elbow before holding up two fingers to her face and then back to the ground, motioning for him to use his eyes. She slowed and pointed for the two men to continue following Serif and then stepped in behind them single file.

  Dave kept an eye out for the exact route and foot placement Serif was taking down the middle of the street.

  “How did we avoid stepping into one of those last night?” Dave asked.

  “Care and a bit of luck,” Serif responded without looking over his shoulder.

  The continued up the street to the intersection before getting their bearings and taking a left. The neglected buildings were occasionally occupied by groups of people milling about. Some were family units cooking on the front steps or gangs of men and women. Each eyed the travellers warily.

  Eventually, the street came to an abrupt end, and the asphalt converted back to green grass and rolling hills. Wading into the waist-high field, they followed a weak trail of flattened grass. Dave’s newly trained eye p
icked up a number of depressed areas where grass did not grow upward toward the weak, diffuse light of the dome. He turned, trying to identify a pattern to them, and looked back at the outer right of the city to gain some sort of reference.

  The houses and fences all seemed to belong to aging doll houses. The outer wall, and in some cases half of the building, appeared as though cut away with a laser-like quality. The effect left Dave with an empty feeling as he wondered wondered how many people had died in the event that had caused such anomalous destruction.

  Turning to look forward, he gauged the distance between the two concentric rings of buildings at a few kilometres. It would take them an hour or so through the grass to get to the next wall of buildings.

  “The light is odd,” Tony piped up. He had been critiquing things just has Dave had. “It seems to be sporadic. Some of the days we have been here, I timed the light at being twelve hours, others it is only ten. Even last night, I checked my watch, and there were only about eight hours of darkness.”

  “There is also no sun,” Dave added. “It reminds me of the kind of light you get in the winter when there are clouds.”

  “That too. I’m just curious how the light gets in here. If there is an actual time dilation due to the field, it shouldn’t be so long.”

  “Maybe it’s not coming from the outside?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, when we tunnel we use lights. If you lived underground or couldn’t see outside, you would want to have the same kind of rhythms as you would outside. It affects a lot of work crews who get stuck working night shifts; they go down in the morning before the sun comes up, and they come back up after the sun has set. If your theory is right, and this is some sort of travelling sphere, then maybe it has a day and a night cycle.”

  “That makes some sort of weird sense, but we think the field is just a force field. It doesn’t make sense that it generates light. On the outside it is black. It absorbs hydrogen. It shouldn’t be producing light here either,” Tony said.