Planet Purgatory

by Martin, Benedict

  “No. Before that. On Earth. Was he this miserable there, too?”

  “It’s the chikka. You won’t find a harder worker than my son. He pushes himself from sunup to sundown. He was like that back home, but since coming here, it’s like he’s forgotten how to relax. So instead, he drinks.”

  The Scavenger’s lip rose into his trademark ugly smile. “I guess that choice to come out here really paid off for you, huh?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “Look at you,” he said with a sneer. “You’ve already died once, and by the state of you, it won’t be long before it happens again.”

  He was taunting me. Now it was my turn.

  “You died, too, you know.”

  The Scavenger blinked and shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “You died. That’s why you’re here.”

  “Oh, David, don’t start with that!” said my dad, angrily.

  “No, I want to hear what he has to say,” the Scavenger replied.

  This would be the first time I’d told anyone other than my parents what I was about to say. My palms were sweating, and I did my best to hide my excitement by taking an extended drag of my cigarette.

  “This isn’t a planet,” I explained through a thick plume of smoke. “Or at least, not as we’ve been led to believe. This is a destination. For people after they die.”

  “What, you mean like Hell?”

  “No. Not Hell. More like … Purgatory.”

  It felt strange speaking those words, and I took a deep breath, wiping my hands on my trousers.

  “Where did you get this from?” asked the Scavenger, still wearing that mask of derision.

  “It’s the accident,” my dad replied. “He didn’t have these thoughts before.”

  “I did too! I just kept them quiet, that’s all. But the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced we’re inhabiting an afterlife.”

  This prompted the Scavenger to clap his hands together and laugh. “Sounds like you got too much time on your hands, my friend.”

  “Think about it. This is supposed to be a space colony. But where’s the proof? I’ve seen no rockets. No spaceships. Yet there are new people all the time. Where are they coming from?”

  “That’s because the landing base is further south,” answered the Scavenger.

  “Is it? How do you know that? Have you seen it?”

  The Scavenger leaned over to pick at something on the side of his boot.

  “And what about the voyage here? Thirty years in space, and no one can remember a single detail. Why is that?”

  “It’s the suspended animation,” answered the Scavenger. “You know that. It fogs your brain.”

  “But what about the time before that? On Earth. I don’t remember anything about deciding to be a space colonist. There would have to have been training, and interviews, and forms to fill out. You’d think some of that would stay in here,” I said, tapping my temple. “Hell, I don’t remember there being a habitable planet besides Earth. Things like that tend to get on the news.”

  As I spoke, the zombies became agitated, rocking back and forth with renewed urgency.

  “When’s Daddy coming?” one said. “The mall’s closing.”

  Her voice was clear, healthy, not at all like the dried-out husk that was her body. It was shocking, and I looked to the Scavenger for an explanation.

  “Just reliving an old memory,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “He said he’d be here a half hour ago. I’m going to have to walk …”

  While the one zombie spoke, the other’s teeth chattered. Violently.

  “Are you sure they’re okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, that’s what they do,” said the Scavenger, irritably. “Now back to this whole not-a-planet thing. What gave you the idea that this is Hell?”

  “I told you, it’s not Hell. It’s certainly not Heaven. But it’s not Hell. At least not for us.”

  “And what makes you say that?”

  “Well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation if this was Hell. Human interaction, as much as I go out of my way to avoid it, is something people need. Even I can see that. Like these gatherings. They don’t just happen. People need fellowship. And there are other things as well, like the warmth of the campfire. And books. And clothes. And pumpkin pie. I’m pretty certain there’s no pumpkin pie in Hell.”

  Rosie butted her way beneath my arm, forcing her furry face into mine.

  “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten about you,” I said, kissing the top of her head.

  The Scavenger’s smile returned, albeit muted. “So this is Purgatory, is it?”

  “That is what I believe.”

  “So all these people.” The Scavenger motioned to the campfires around us. “Somehow they’re unworthy of entering Heaven?”

  “Yes.”

  “But that would include you as well. So tell me, David Eno, what has kept you from entering the Pearly Gates?”

  I think he expected me to stumble. Instead, I looked him in the eye and said, “I don’t care.”

  “What?”

  “I mean, I don’t care. Never have. My entire life I’ve gone about my business without the slightest concern for others.”

  “Don’t be silly, Davey! That’s not true. You’ve always been a good boy!”

  I shook my head. “It’s true, Mummy. I don’t wish harm on anyone. But at the same time, I can’t be bothered. I’d much rather be left on my own, to deal with my own problems.”

  My father rose from the table, muttering to himself. “What a stupid conversation …”

  “And your parents,” said the Scavenger. “Neither of them are worthy of Heaven?”

  “That’s right.”

  I think the Scavenger was surprised by my bluntness, and he watched as Rosie forced her way onto my lap, gazing into my eyes in such a way that I assumed she wanted to play.

  “What are you doing?” I said, shoving her barrel chest with my free hand. But she wouldn’t budge, and I put my cigarette in my mouth, pushing with not only my arms but my foot as well, until she relented and returned to the ground.

  Meanwhile the zombie’s “conversation” was getting louder. She was talking to a coworker now, complaining about how customers were leaving boots in the aisles. Her voice was eerily clear, pausing to listen to the responses that only she could hear. The other zombie, no longer content clattering her teeth, was shaking her head so violently I was worried her neck would snap.

  The atmosphere was definitely tense. It didn’t help that Rosie was padding around in a circle, whining.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  She took this as an invitation to again force her way onto my lap, and it was only due to quick reflexes on my part that I didn’t accidentally burn her with my cigarette.

  “Get off!” I grunted, but it was like pushing an old tree stump.

  “So do you have any proof this is Purgatory?”

  With great difficulty I peered around Rosie’s chest while she panted over the top of my head.

  “Proof? Nothing other than a gut feeling. I’m trying to find a Bible or something that will give me clues, but in terms of anything concrete, look around you. This isn’t a planet. This is a place where people languish until they disappear. You more than anyone should appreciate that. Your livelihood is predicated on finding and selling items from people who are no longer here.”

  The Scavenger shook his head. “There’s plenty of reasons why a person can disappear. You know that.”

  “Yeah, I’ll give you that,” I said, pushing in vain against Rosie’s chest. “But there’s been too many instances where there’s no sign of struggle. No letters. No explanation. Nothing. They’re just … Okay this has gone on long enough,” I said, with a final heave. “What the hell is wrong with you, dog?”

  And that’s when I felt it: footsteps shaking the ground. I couldn’t put into words the terror I f
elt, the panic in my chest. Screams erupted from the different campfires, and I grabbed my gun, looking for a place to hide. They came out of the trees: aliens; ten-foot-tall giants dressed head to toe in black armor and black leather trenchcoats. They lumbered forward, carrying enormous guns that looked like a cross between a flamethrower and a cannon.

  Heart racing, I ran and hid behind a tree, Rosie loping right beside me, gunshots ringing ineffectually in the background. So that’s what she was doing. I’d been so engrossed in spouting my little theory that I didn’t recognize that she was warning me.

  It had been months since the aliens last appeared. They seemed to wait for gatherings such as this one, appearing out of seemingly thin air to rain panic down on the poor souls there. Guns were useless against them. As were knives. All you could do was hide and pray you didn’t get caught.

  I looked up through the tangle of tree branches and saw the rectangular shape of their mother ship hovering noiselessly in the twilight above. It had no lights, no features, just an enormous shadow hanging in the sky.

  It was chaos, with people screaming and sprinting into the woods. Fortunately, I was drunk enough to keep my wits about me, and I peeped my head out in time to see the first of the energy orbs get shot from one of the barrels of those enormous guns. Those were the real enemies. They looked like Tesla balls, and if they or their little tendrils of electricity touched you, that was it. It didn’t matter if you were animal or human, you were doomed. It didn’t kill you, it took your soul away, leaving you an empty husk. A zombie.

  I watched as more energy orbs were burped into the clearing. At least two people had been hit; I saw them sitting listlessly between the campfires. So far I had escaped attention, Rosie standing protectively at my side.

  And then the unthinkable happened — a giant turned and moved toward me. The ground shook with every footstep. I prayed that it hadn’t seen me, that it was a coincidence, but that went out the window the moment Rosie leaped out from behind the tree.

  “Rosie!” I hissed. “Get back here, you stupid dog! Rosie!”

  But she didn’t listen, facing the oncoming giant as though she meant to rip its throat out.

  The alien’s footsteps thumped louder, and just like I knew it would, it shot one of those energy orbs. It landed only a few feet short of where Rosie was standing, its violet tendrils of electricity struggling to touch her snout.

  Time slowed, and I watched helplessly as Rosie launched herself through the energy ball at the giant, all those tendrils of electricity, dozens of them, licking her body. But instead of collapsing, she bit the giant’s arm, forcing him to drop his cannon.

  I was dumbfounded. Rosie was immune to the energy orb’s foul magic. My mind raced through the possible reasons why, and that’s when it hit me: Rosie was a revenant. Not only that, I was a revenant, too. Heart racing, I stepped out from behind the tree with my SYS gun at my side. Normal guns were useless against these giants, I understood that, but SYS guns were different. Knowing I was a potential footstep away from becoming a mindless zombie, I walked through the energy orb. I could feel the electricity against my skin, but other than some pressure behind my eyes and tickling in my ears, I felt normal.

  I wasn’t even thinking anymore. My sole concern was helping Rosie take down this monster. She was a beast, hanging off its arm with her teeth, twisting and snarling like something out of a nightmare. But the giant was strong, and in a frightening display of violence, it slammed her against the ground, where she remained, motionless.

  I was certain she’d died.

  For a moment, just a moment, I considered running, but in an act of colossal stupidity, I walked up to the armored giant and stood before it. I could have touched it, I was so close. I don’t know why I did it; it could have easily pounded me into the dirt like a tent peg. Instead it grabbed me, squeezing my ribs with mammoth hands. Its strength was unreal. I was a plaything, and as it lifted me up to smash me into the ground, I shot it in the crown.

  And that’s when everything went black.

  Chapter 2

  I woke to the rather unsettling image of my parents and the Scavenger peering down at me. I didn’t know where I was, and I sat up only to vomit on myself.

  “Easy there,” cautioned my dad, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  I looked around, blinking at a still burning campfire.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, wiping sick from my chin.

  But nobody answered, preferring to watch as my wits slowly returned. And they did return, bringing with them frighteningly clear images of the violence that had nearly killed me.

  “Where’s Rosie?” I exclaimed.

  My question was answered in the form of a big furry face burrowing into my chest, prompting me to bury my own mug into her shoulder. Rosie had survived! In fact, other than a slight limp, she seemed completely fine. I, on the other hand, felt like I had been pulled from a collapsed building.

  “Let’s get you sitting somewhere a little more comfortable,” said the Scavenger, extending a hand.

  I was hesitant to accept it. Not because I didn’t like him — I didn’t — but because I wasn’t certain I could stand. But I did, and it was as I slowly made my way to a nearby picnic table that I noticed the expressions of those around me. There were a good two dozen people there, and they regarded me warily.

  “Here,” said the Scavenger, passing me a flask of water.

  I took a gulp, and then poured the rest over the top of my head, soaking myself all the way to my trousers.

  “How you feeling?” he asked, passing me a cigarette.

  “Like shit.”

  I watched as the droplets of water fell from my hair onto the dirt, doing my best to ignore the stares still coming my way.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Why are they looking at me like that?”

  “You really need to ask? You survived an energy orb. You and your bitch. No one does that. No one. You walked right through it. And if that wasn’t enough, you killed an alien.”

  My body jerked. “I did?”

  The Scavenger nodded. “Go have a look. It’s still there.”

  Lighting my cigarette, I rose stiffly from the picnic table to make my way to the armored colossus on the ground. There were people milling around it, but the moment they saw me approaching, they wandered away, leaving me to gaze upon the fallen giant on my own.

  The thing was massive, easily ten feet tall, and I methodically made my way up the length of the body, intrigued by its ebony casing. It looked plastic, but further examination revealed something closer to iron. It was bizarre, and I paused to run my fingers along a section of its forearm, half worried I would somehow wake it.

  Finally I came to the helmet. It was bell-shaped, with two circular depressions that I assumed were eyes. There were no other features. It was spotless. There wasn’t even a scratch, and I was wondering how I could have possibly killed the monster when I saw a hole roughly twice the size of my fist punched through the top of its head.

  “Now, how the did you manage that?” asked the Scavenger.

  “Got lucky, I guess.”

  Curious, I knelt to the ground, and using the light from a match, I peered inside the wound.

  “What the hell?”

  “What is it?”

  “Give me your lighter,” I said, discarding the burned-out match onto the ground.

  The Scavenger did as he was told, and I continued my examination of the wound.

  “It’s full of teeth!”

  “What?”

  “See for yourself,” I said, returning the lighter.

  It reminded me of the inside of a pumpkin, but instead of seeds, there were teeth. Dozens of them. Canines, molars, premolars, incisors. It was disgusting, so when the Scavenger shoved his hand into the hole and began scooping them out, I couldn’t help but recoil.

  “Gonna make a fortune off of these,” he said, greedily stuffing a handful into his pocket.

  I watched as he fille
d his pockets with teeth, this collector of carrion, and was about to leave when Rosie muscled the Scavenger aside to hungrily lick the inside of the cavity like it was a freshly cracked soup bone.

  “Rosie! Stop it! That’s disgusting!”

  She knew she was being bad, and managed to get a few more licks in before a boot to her behind sent her trotting in the direction of my parents, who were standing in front of their trailer. She could be so stubborn sometimes, and I followed her, knowing full well she intended to return for more of that alien marrow.

  “Grab her!” I called to my dad.

  They had a funny relationship, did Rosie and my dad. She was constantly doing things to annoy him, and he seemed to relish the opportunities to dole out discipline, so the moment he heard me, he ran and seized her by the ruff, holding her until I arrived.

  “She’s licking the inside of its head,” I explained, gesturing toward the downed alien.

  You should have seen the look my dad gave her, the utter disdain. But Rosie didn’t care.

  The truth was, if she’d really wanted to treat herself to more of the inside of that alien’s skull, there was nothing anybody could have done to stop her. But for the moment, she was content to stand idly by, panting, while my mother rushed out of the trailer carrying a clean change of clothing.

  “Davey! Davey! Put these on. The clothes you’re wearing are filthy.”

  I took them, and as I did, she hugged me tight, pushing herself into my very sore chest. “I was certain you’d died!” I thought my ribs would snap, but the relief in her voice kept me from pulling away, and we stood there, mother and revenant son, until she broke away to return to the trailer.

  “I’m going to make you some tea,” she said.

  “I’d prefer chikka.”

  My dad shook his head. “Make him the tea, Mummy.”

  The moment the trailer door closed, my father turned to me and asked, “Why’d you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Stand there. I was hiding behind the Jenkinses’ trailer. I saw it all. Why did you stand there when you could have run?”