by Ben Archer
The numbness eventually seizes enough to wipe all that away. As it does, the murky bus surrenders to a brilliant show of dazzling white lights. The colorless fireworks explode too perfectly to ever exist in the real world. Real or not, I’m welcome to casually float among them. All these happy little clouds release me from the grounding chains of my never ending pain. In this blank landscape I’m not happy, or sad, or anything else. I simply am. It’s as if I’ve gotten lost on the way to some far-off dream.
The spotless canvas begins to sprout tiny golden flowers that bloom in entire bushels. Then, as if they had been here the entire time, tall green grasses fill in the rest. Within seconds the blank landscape has been colored in by the most colorful crayons in the box. The result is a stunning meadow that’s as real as anything else in this surreal place.
There’s a faint breeze playing conductor to keep everything flowing in perfect harmony. Growing amongst the swaying blooms are crowds of wonderful people dancing along to the same unheard song. Their faces light up with heart-warming smiles as soon as they see me. It’s the kind of loving outpour usually reserved for the most important people in your life. The fact that I’m a stranger seems totally irrelevant to them.
There’s an invisible energy to this dreamlike place as tangible as warm summer rain. Every new second is a celebration that saturates my soul with an unearned happiness. It pulls me in with a simple kind of magic. Things that shouldn’t be possible, just feel completely natural here. Nothing about the instantly blooming flowers, or even blooming people, seem out of place. They fill my heart with a guilty joy that makes me want to scream, cry, and sing all at once!
Every ounce of worry melts away while wading through the waist-deep grass. When I manage to get close enough to the contagiously happy group, my ears finally find the lost tune. And it’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard before! Maybe heard isn’t the right word, more like felt deep inside my chest. There are no actual words or melodies, but this song is as much a part of this place as the grass, air, and people. The melody merges with my soul, bonding me to this wonderful world and everything in it.
I want to live in this feeling.
A small boy breaks away from the group to personally welcome me. He’s no one I’ve ever met before, however, the look he gives is what you would expect from a long lost friend. He has a shaggy mop of blonde hair that’s as golden as the endless field. His beautiful mismatched eyes beg me to join him. One is the color of the deepest oceans, while the other is the radiant green of a forest morning. He tells me they’ve been waiting for me. Not with his voice, but with something hidden in the music. And by “they,” he means my family.
Could it be?
Are they really here??
I grab the small hand without hesitation. The moment I do, what can only be described as pure joy washes over me. The best way to explain it is that I feel complete for the first time. I rejoice in the magnificent moment by dancing through the sprawling meadow. Velvet plants tickle the soft skin between each spread toe. There’s a fresh lightness in my legs as if I’m floating, except I’m not. At least I don’t think I am.
I remain lost in the infinite paradise for hours, maybe days, or even weeks. No measurement of time could ever capture what it means to be here. I experience emotions that are more powerful than any words could ever hope to describe. My heart is pounding to the same song of this charmed place. Voices whisper in my ear like angels welcoming me home.
Through the peaceful chorus comes the unexpected rumble of a giant waking up underground. The quake stands in stark contrast to the perfect melody, like thunder drowning out a baby’s laugh. The mighty growl shatters our carefree mood and every smile falls away.
Terror seizes our small community as the rumble quickly grows into a raging storm. The kind breeze transforms into a furious hurricane that mercilessly snaps off the tall flowers. Delicate petals swirl around like snow in a blizzard. Even the crystal blue sky has become a murky black hole in the world. The destruction is complete and devastating.
Everyone and everything is sucked into the all-consuming vacuum. The frightened people, and worst of all, my golden haired child. I desperately scramble to return to the safety of his touch, except he’s always out of reach!
“Please don’t leave me! Don’t go!” I repeatedly beg. A biting panic develops from the thought of never seeing this place, or feeling this way, again. No matter how far I reach, and my bones are stretched farther than ever before, we simply can’t touch! His soft fingers are right in front of me, yet some invisible barrier keeps us apart!
“Stop fighting you little shit!” rolls in on the crashing thunder. In a show of unchecked power, lightning spreads its prickly fingers across the black sky. The colossal storm seems on the verge of ripping apart the entire planet. The hurricane rages until the last ray of hopeful light dies. All that’s left are dull grey smears of nothingness. The mystical fields, smiling faces, fluffy clouds, even the blissful beating in my chest has been silenced. Everything is gone. Only the violent hurricane and angry voice remains.
Quinn Chapter 5: Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
I’m lost, floating in limbo, while the harsh voice assaults me. It spews long chains of cruelty that slowly chew on my sanity. My only comfort is the ghost of the boy, still lingering in the darkness. Soon though, even his sweet face begins filling me with a deep bitterness.
He’s gone.
That fantastic world, gone.
I try taking my anger out on the supernatural voice, only to find the intense pain of moving my dehydrated body has returned. Frustration leaves me stuck between these two worlds; my heart belongs to the beautiful meadow, while the venomous voice anchors me in this desolate hole. If it would only shut up, I could return to the warmth of the golden boy.
The poisonous words have me imagining things slithering in the darkness. They plant ideas that have hateful creatures crawling out of the inky pools like snakes in mud. Finally, a shape evolves that’s so vile, so gruesome, that it has to be real since my imagination could never create something so revolting. The dark shadows have twisted into a face so wicked it could only belong to the hateful voice.
It emerges from the void with bloodshot eyes set deep in hallow sockets. The face around it is so sickly that it could be mistaken as skin stretched over a chiseled skull. Large veins bulge from its forehead that throb intensely, almost hypnotically, during each scream. Heavy smears of black paint run in a colossal X across the entire haunting face. What few teeth it has left are stained the color of rotten meat.
The rest of the skeleton-thin man eventually emerges out of the darkness. What had been hidden is a thin freak of nature that seeps hatred from its very pores. It’s not one particular thing that makes him frightening, the whole package appears ruthless. His tattered outfit looks to have been sewn together from black leather scraps, and (barely) held together by rusted metal clamps. It covers him tightly from boot to neck. And there seems to be several iron scales scattered almost randomly throughout the otherwise dark suit.
He’s so tall that, even bent over, his green mohawk scrapes against the bus ceiling. But his most noticeable features are the two large tubes erupting from right under his jaw. They lead down into a backpack that’s pumping an endless stream of green slime into them. The glowing tubes slither like constricting snakes around his neck, and bathe the sides of his face in an eerie light. You can even see the radioactive ooze flowing through the shallow veins of his face and hands. When he squeezes my arm, they wiggle like neon worms.
I push back against the boney chest, which only pisses him off more. He slams his spider-like body down over top of me in response. Those long, spindly arms choke my wrists into an unwilling submission. He squawks, “Oh, we got us a live one here, Crow!” My fist reaches out, but it’s easily smacked away before ever having a chance to reach him. I’m too weak to have done much damage anyway. Another voice chimes in from somewhere out of sight, “Throttle up and get ‘er, Rat!”
“Hells yeah boy! We gone have some fun with this one!” Rat joyfully squeals, while bashing several large buttons on his forearm. The tubes in his neck immediately turn an angry shade of red. As they do, a morbid howl explodes from his mouth. The big brute dips down low, before launching into an uncontrollable fit of shaking that rattles the entire bus.
Then he rises with a very satisfied, “Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh” while dragging his scabby tongue across dry lips. His eyes are now the same haunting shade of baby blue as mine.
“Now where was we,girl??” in a terrifying new voice. What the??? What is that thing? Even if I could identify it, I couldn’t do much to stop him. I get to helplessly watch as he snatches me up by the throat, slings me into the ceiling, and laughs in my face. One of my arms goes all the way through the rusted metal so I can feel the cold wind blowing outside. And coming back down isn’t much better either…
I stir up enough rust to paint my entire body in a thick layer of chocolate brown flakes. Inhaling the sharp snow instantly seals my throat shut and, suddenly, defending myself isn’t as important as merely finding a small breath! I desperately try sneaking in a little air by pounding on my heaving chest. Rat doesn’t seem to know (or care) I was beaten way before this fight ever started. He absolutely refuses to let up, even as I struggle to simply breathe! Instead, he angrily gathers me back up to toss through several rows of skeleton seats.
The impact knocks more of the rust free, but I’m still urgently trying to cough up the rest. I fantasize twisting those big tubes all the way around his bulging throat, while helplessly lying on the ground. In reality though, I’m stuck upside down on this rotten bus bench, wishing the world would turn right-side-up again. I’m completely powerless to do anything other than watch him come get me, again. Stomping feet are the only things can I see. Three rows separate us ─then two. Every few seconds another set disappears.
One.
By.
One.
Quinn Chapter 6: All Time Low
My inevitable meeting with the rampaging beast comes when the last seat disappears. I rip and tear at his scruffy boots since they’re the only things within my low reach. Sadly, the soft outer layer is about as far as my dead fingers can dig. He just laughs and drives his foot deeper into my ribcage.
The beating pauses only so I can vomit on the floor. Then it resumes by scooping my mostly dead body up and hurling it through the back window. There’s no glass, but plenty of metal remaining. I feel the flaky steel slice under my skin on the way out. It hammers in further with every tumble across the hard desert floor.
I can’t fight anymore. My brittle arms collapse while trying to pull myself from the sand. The best they can do is drag my nose out far enough to breathe again. Unfortunately, it lands right next to a big pair of black boots.
“Do it.” I command with a tired voice. “Kill me.”
“Now why would I waste a fresh young thing like you?”
Rat sneers and, for some reason, doesn’t actually kill me. Instead he straps large bands onto both wrists. It should be pretty obvious I don’t need restrained. I’m not going anywhere. He punches a few more buttons on that forearm screen of his. They trigger deep tremors in both wrists as if they’re being electrocuted. I can feel the static charge rise my hair before, “Schink!” suddenly snaps the bands together.
A powerful magnet has turned the simple metal straps into unbreakable handcuffs. Though, at this point, the weight of the metal would have been enough to keep me on the ground.
I’m simply done.
“That was disappointing, kid. I really thought you would put up more of a fight than that.”
Yeah, me too.
The freak’s spindly arms attach another band to each leg and once again, “Schink” locks them together. I wish I could make this harder on him, I really do, but I really don’t care what his plan is. What can he do to me? There’s nothing left to take away. There’s absolutely no way he can punish me any more than I already have been.
Whatever his plan is, it begins by using those boney fingers to pry open my jaw. They taste like sulfur and dust while rooting past my tongue. I’m actually surprised when a few tears roll out.
1) That I care enough to cry.
2) That there’s enough moisture to still make tears.
Next, he tilts my head back and shoves a giant rubber hose down my throat. The rough plastic scrapes against the soft flesh on the way down. Each ripple triggers a new gag as it plunges deeper. All I can see is the dark night sky and grubby fingers shoving the fat tube further. I can feel it stretching out the bottom of my stomach like a rubber band by the time he’s finished.
There’s a few more dead moments of anticipation before a dark crimson ooze begins flowing through the tube. This liquid looks different than the neon ones jabbed into Rat. There’s no radioactive glow or surreal coloring to it. I try fighting against whatever’s being pumped into me, although without hands or feet, it does little more than spit some of the liquid onto his ugly face. But it’s his reaction that scares me most. Rat absolutely freaks out from just a few drops of the mystery liquid touching his skin! What is this stuff???
Then the ooze reaches my own taste buds and I absolutely, positively can’t believe what it is... BLOOD. Fresh, wonderful, salty blood. I have to pause and make sure my mind isn’t playing some cruel trick on me. But no, against all belief, it’s the most wonderful thing my lips have ever tasted. I quit fighting the impulse to vomit up the tube, then let the savory syrup restore my mind and body like a deflated balloon.
My muscles shiver from the fresh plasma soaking in. The feeling is so incredible, so completely irresistible, that it almost makes me forget about the gigantic feeding tube shoved halfway down my body.
Almost.
Along with the returning strength comes the rage. The fangs that ache for one more round with the heavy metal asshole. And this time, I promise not to disappoint.
My revenge plans suffer a setback when the prick clamps a new collar around my neck. This one is the thick leather kind used to leash wild dogs. They make sure to put it on the end of an extra-long pole to keep me, and my aching fangs, as far away as possible.
My feet clamps come undone as soon as the leash is secure. The shocking development makes me completely miss Rat’s partner sneaking up behind me. He presses one hand down on my shoulder, and uses the other to rip the tube out. The fat torture device, somehow, feels much worse on the way back up. Every tiny ridge seems to catch a spasming muscle this time around. It’s a level of pain far beyond anything I’ve experienced before.
At least with a cut or bruise you know what to expect. That’s familiar pain, this hurts so bad it’s confusing. I can’t even tell what part of my body is actually hurting. The shock runs from toenails, to eyeballs, and everything in between. When it finally falls out, both I and the tube collapse on the ground. The leftover ooze gushes all over and Rat leaps out of the way as if it were hot lava. I must instinctively chuckle because he suddenly yanks at my leash.
“What you laughing at bitch???”
He tugs at the collar and every twist of his hand collapses the leash a little more. But, his humiliation has caused him to bring me within biting distance.
That’s a BIG mistake.
I take a chance to drive my teeth toward his noodle-like neck. The attack is way too fast and sails far off course; managing to miss everything except for the bridge of his crooked nose. He stumbles back to reveal the new valley carved from his slimy snout. Rat quickly pushes me back out of reach again. I doubt he will give me another chance as good as that one. While the wound is only superficial, streams of blood are gushing down both cheeks. I would love to bottle up his stunned expression and eat it with a spoon.
When his brow plunges, I brace for the coming payback. Sure enough, he swings the leash (with my head attached) into the side of the rusty bus.
“I’m gonna make sure they treat you extra special.” My restraint tightens even mo
re after he’s finished taunting me with that darting tongue.
“Get your ass up here.” This time I don’t visibly struggle.
Fearing the loss of my ability to breathe again, I test the limits of my restraints a little more casually. Little things, like stretching to see how secure the collar is, or tugging at the cuffs while walking to see how far they’ll reach. But, sadly, I’m already by the side of a large truck before finding out if any of it would’ve worked.
This is also when I get my first view of Hayden. He has the same fresh blood trails leaking down his chin. His feet and ankles are also tied like mine. However, Rat’s partner hasn’t bothered with the leash because he’s still out cold. It’s easy for him to drag Hayden up to the rear of an odd shaped truck. While the front is standard desert runner, the rear is made from two thick sheets of steel that have been leaned against each other in the shape of a tent or upside down V.
And that’s all.
No bed, no storage, just this funky metal wedge.
The thin freak types on his forearm the same way Rat had. This time every one of Hayden’s cuffs separate. Regrettably, he’s in no condition to take advantage of this new-found freedom.
The scavenger takes his time carefully arranging Hayden into a giant X on the desert floor. After each floppy arm and leg is spread to the farthest corners, his entire body is thrown towards the steel slab by some invisible force. He collides with a loud metal on metal thud that exposes the secret to their magnetic magic. It seems these cuffs will turn us into puppets on unseen strings.
Not me.
The second my leash drops, I’m out of here. Or I’ll rip his damn arms off trying!
So Rat repeats the process when my turn comes. He leans me against the opposite slab and commands me not to move. I reply meekly, “No problem.” What the sniveling mutant doesn’t know is that I’ll be miles away in just a few minutes. But for now, I don’t want to look overly anxious while waiting for the little prick to hit the button.