by Dan McNeill
Because it wasn’t Jehu. Stepping closer to the figure he noticed it wasn’t anything human, or whatever Jehu was, at all. It was a scarecrow.
“Po, come here!” Abraham laughed, calling into the surrounding stalks.
Trembling, Po stumbled slowly back into the clearing. “Oh my god!” he shouted, pointing at the macabre scarecrow.
“What?” Raymond asked, puzzled.
“Are you cwazy Waymond?” Po yelled. “Don't you remember Planet of the Apes? We have to get outa here! They’re coming!!”
From somewhere close by they heard another high-pitched cry. Not a whistle this time. But a whimper.
"What the hell was that?" Jake said, looking out towards the spot where the sound came.
"Sounded like a cry," Salome said. "Like a child's cry."
"Come on," Abraham said, charging into the stalks of corn. Po was right behind him.
Raymond followed. Within a few moments, they tripped into to another wide clearing where the stalks had been flattened. Only this time, they looked to have been violently smashed down. Stalks had been torn from the ground and fresh husks were tossed about. Many of the ears of corn had gashes bit out of them. Raymond froze.
"What in the hell is that?" Raymond bellowed.
"Abraham..." Salome let out slowly. "We need to run."
It was a little girl. But she wasn't alone. Three...others were hunched over her. The shadows. Rapid raspy breaths produced a thick steam that circled the frightened little girl. Wearing a pink University of Wisconsin sweatshirt and dirt-stained white sweatpants, she cowered beneath them, trembling. Clutching a ragged brown teddy bear, she recoiled into the flattened stalks, condemned.
"Ragers," Raymond said.
"Yeah kid," Jake said, reaching for his pistol. The Ragers turned and smiled. "And they look hungry."
Raymond cocked his rifle. "Hey!" he shouted, stepping into the clearing. "Move away from the girl or I-"
They turned at once, their mouths in wide pointed smiles, and charged.
A slender woman in a threadbare hospital gown led it. She cackled as her gown flowed behind her like a tattered pirate's sail. All Raymond could see before he pulled the trigger were blood red eyes, a manic smile and thick bunches of bloody tumors covering her head. She hit the ground laughing while the blood poured from her chest.
Threat of gunshot did nothing to stop the other two. They were on them. A guy in ripped army fatigues and wisps of a white afro, smashed his tumor-covered skull hard into Raymond's chest, launching him into the corn stalks.
On his back, Raymond looked up to see the third creature ready to leap on them both. But all he could hear was afro-guy's teeth clicking, trying like hell to gnaw into Raymond's thigh as Abraham desperately tried to hold it back. Somewhere, past the fog of battle, Raymond thought he could see Po protecting the little girl.
The third rager, a woman in a red coat, leaped instead on Abraham, her blood-stained lips curled up in a devilish grin. She let out a demented high-pitched wail as she cracked her head repeatedly on Abraham's back until he lost his grip.
Everything was moving faster than Raymond could keep up with. He felt like he was about to slip into Wonderland. But something was holding him back.
It didn't matter. Afro-guy, his jaws wide open, had him pinned. He shot his head down in several quick bursts, his jaws snapping at Raymond's neck. Each time, Raymond was just a second ahead. Anticipating. Rolling to the right, then to the left. Centering himself, Raymond kicked loose and jumped to his feet. Sliding Remmy off his shoulder, he fired.
Instead of scaring her off, the rager woman holding Abraham suddenly let go and leaped at Raymond. She was laughing hysterically now, bouncing and bobbing her head like a hyper toddler. Giddy in a violent rage, she grabbed Raymond’s approaching fist and pushed it into her mouth, knocking out a couple of festering teeth still remaining on her upper jaw. Purposefully? Raymond didn’t think so, as she tried to sink what was left of her jagged teeth into Raymond's neck. She didn’t have a chance.
Another man grabbed her by the coat and flipped her off of Raymond, whipping her onto her back in the center of the clearing. The woman, still laughing, bounced back with a moan and charged.
“Watch it!” Raymond screamed.
But it was too late. The woman had already dug her long, unkempt nails into the man’s leather coat, flipping him onto his back. Like afro-guy, she was strong too. Stronger than her delicate frame would suggest. The man had a good fifty pounds of bulk on him and was still losing the fight. She was about to bite down on his exposed arm when she had a change in plans.
The woman saw Po and the little girl again and immediately jumped off the man on the ground. She whipped herself around, looking Raymond in the eye. She seemed to be asking him something. Wishing. Begging for Raymond to open fire. With a desperate laugh, she leaped towards the little girl.
Before Raymond could react, Po pounced on the woman. She was surprised for just a moment before sinking her teeth into his arm. Po grimaced but was too busy to cry out. He was spinning.
Moving faster than Raymond could ever remember Po move before, he lifted her up with a powerful bear hug up above his head, whipping her over his shoulders. He swung the woman blindly around in a circle, so fast, that the woman’s head was a wailing blur. After several twirls, Po let her go, spinning her off like a runaway Tilt-a-Whirl car. Doing an uneasy twirl like a drunken ballerina, she snapped around to face the cornstalks, bent herself over and ran into the shadows, disappearing the way she came.
Raymond returned Remmy to his side as the little girl's father stood up and ran to her. Making sure she was alright, he turned around, to look Raymond over. He seemed to be considering him, determining whether or not Raymond was a threat.
The silent seconds seemed like an eternity. It was uncomfortable to look at the man. The severity of his Rapture wounds reminded him of his own mother's last days. Bulging tumors and dried over scars littered his face. He looked nearly identical to the Ragers that had just tried to kill them.
The girl's mother ran out from the stalks now to attend to her husband. Her Rapture scars were much less noticeable. Or maybe it was because she held her beauty so well. Raymond thought it was the latter.
She exchanged some words with her husband before she took a silver flask from the inside of her coat and ran towards Po, who was sitting on the ground with his right hand wrapped around the bite on his arm. Without saying a word, the woman softly coaxed Po's hand away to examine the gash.
“Unlike us," the woman said, "your kind are immune to Rager bites.” With a cloth, she dabbed more of the solution from the flask over Po's wound. “But not immune to whatever bacteria it might have been carrying. This ought to clean it but you'd be good to keep an eye on it for a few days.”
Po smiled back his thanks to her, looking at the woman with that eternally grateful grin he would give to their mom every time she patched a scrape or hugged him after a difficult day at Glenside. Raymond wasn’t even the slightest bit resentful of the fact that it was also a look he never quite gave to Raymond, even though he did all of the same, and more, these past three years. He could never be their mom.
Still smiling, Po stood up and walked over to the little girl. She was softly sobbing, futilely trying to cram the stuffing back into the back of her teddy bear, which had been ripped open. She froze as Po approached.
Po stopped and smiled down at the girl, reaching into the lining of his lime-green windbreaker to pull something out. Without hesitation, he handed it to the little girl. It was his prized Superman doll.
The girl looked back up to Po’s gentle face with a simple mixture of surprise and wonder. “Are you Santa Claus?”
Po looked confused before letting out a hearty laugh. “No, Po not Santa wittle girl. Santa's not as chubby as Po!" he said with a laugh, smacking his belly. "Nope, Po's just Po.” He looked over at Raymond for a second then back at the girl. “Sorry about your teddy bear.”
�
�That’s ok mister”, the little girl replied softly, brushing the tears from her face.
Po stepped forward, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the remaining tears from underneath her eyes. “You're a sweety-pie,” Po said solemnly. “God always takes the most care of sweety-pies.”
“What do you say Sasha?” the father stated.
“Thank you,” the girl said to Po, who was still standing next to her. Overlapping sores and pockmarks did nothing to stomp out her sincerity. The little girl's soft blue eyes, wide open in wonder, were filled with an innocence that Raymond found jarring. Like praying to a god that never answered, he couldn't believe that a girl who grew up knowing only fear and despair could still shows sign of...hope.
Nodding back in silence, the father and his family ducked into the cornstalks, disappearing.
Salome walked up behind Raymond, laying her hand on his shoulder. He didn't make an effort to push her away.
"Lowlies," she said softly. "Don't see much of them anymore."
"What did that guy mean by saying we're immune?"
"Well that's why you don't see many lowlies," Abraham said. "You see Ray, there's people like you and me. You know, people who look normal and all. Then there's people like the lowlies. People who have the virus. I mean we all have the virus, right? But with the lowlies, it's bad in a different way. One bite from a Rager and a lowlie turns."
"Turns?" Raymond said.
"Yeah kid," Jake added, "into a Rager."
Raymond wanted to cry. He turned around, looking past Po at the tops of the stalks trying to find evidence of the lowly family. Gone. Or gone enough. While a light wind fluttered the leaves of the moonlit stalks Salome stood on her toes, rubbed her chest against Raymond and kissed him on the cheek.
Salome pulled back, looking over at Abraham and Jake with a laugh. "We're a good team," she said, letting out a sigh. "All of us did pretty good here tonight."
"Yeah," Jake added. "We lived another day. Of course, the night's still young and we have plenty of time to run out of luck."
Her smile faded as she saw the look on Raymond's face. Already, he was looking away from her and the others. He looked back at her with a frown, slowly shaking his head.
"What?" Salome asked.
Raymond stared down at this feet, pretending to inspect the barrel of his rifle. "Me and Po are leaving in the morning."
"Why in the hell would you do a thing like that?" she snapped back at him.
"Because Salome, there's too much danger. And you all seem to attract it."
"Oh man," Jake said, letting out a long sigh. "What kid? You think you'll be able to go back to Candyland and hide out?"
Raymond hesitated. "Sure," he replied. "Why not. It worked out just fine for me and Po before."
Jake shook his head and laughed. "You might think that hiding out under a rock will keep you safe but it won't. They'll find you. They will always find you. Now that Jehu knows you're alive? He'll flip over every rock in New Eden until he finds you. "
"Abraham!" Salome shouted. "Tell him he needs to stay!"
"I can't Salome!" Abraham shouted. He swatted down a cornstalk and turned his back on them. "Ray does what Ray wants," he said. "That's the way it's always been."
"Well sir," Jake said. "It ain't like we're talking about going to the mall for a frozen yogurt. The Elected want you sir. They want you, they want jocko over there," he said, waving off to Raymond. "And they want Po. Zephaniah especially. He has a jones for him. Don't know why, but he does. We know that. And Jehu? You can bet all our sorry asses that he's made damned sure to burn all our cute, pretty faces into the mission memories of the drone collective."
"Uh, guys?" Salome suddenly said, a tone of worry in her voice. "What's he doing?" She was pointing at Po.
Everyone turned to see Po holding his head back like he was looking at the Man in the Moon. With his head jerking side to side, his blue eyes shot up, leaving a bloodshot white. The next moment, he was on his back.
"Po!" Raymond yelled, running to him. The others did the same. Abraham knelt next to him, taking his hand while Jake hurriedly looked him over.
"Could be a seizure," he said, checking his mouth.
"A seizure?" Raymond yelled. "He's never had a seizure in his life!" Raymond looked down at Po's pale cheeks as spiddle dripped from the corner of his lips.
Jake shrugged. "Sorry kid, I was a recruited field medic, not a doc."
"Po?" Abraham said. "You ok?"
"Give him some room," Salome said.
With a jarring shriek that filled the empty cornfield, Po sat up straight, his upper body as rigid as a rock . Everyone jumped back as Po closed his eyes, his body jerking in violent convulsions.
"Po!" Raymond yelled, trying to sound calm but failing. He shot a glance over to Abraham for an answer. Old habit. "What's happening?"
"I don't know!" Abraham shouted, turning to Jake.
"Convulsions," he said, sounding unsure. "We've seen it in a couple of instances, you remember. In the de-droned."
Ignoring the chatter, Po held out his hand, waving it in the air like he was hailing a cab.
"Hurry back with them root beers Topo!" Po exclaimed. "The movie's about to start!"
Abraham studied Po with a short gaze before turning back to Raymond. "What's he saying?"
Raymond shrugged his shoulders, too busy watching Po put on some kind of grumpy face.
"What the hell ya doing up there Topo?" Po yelled out. "Eating all the ice cream? If little Ray here doesn't get a full scoop he'll cry like a girl again! Those bumps aren't getting any smaller you know!" Po reached out at something, like he was giving the air a play punch before bursting out in joyous laughter.
"It's Grandpa Frank," Raymond said. "He's being Grandpa Frank. I remember. Something happened."
"Of course something happened brainless," Abraham said with a smirk. "The hornet attack."
"The what?"
"The hornet stings Ray. You were out playing in Grandpa Frank's back yard and stumbled over a hornet's nest. You got bit like three times before Grandpa Frank scooped you up and ran you inside. Po thought it would be a good idea if we watched Star Wars to make you feel better. And, of course, the root beer floats, too."
Po's eyes rolled back into his head again and he started to shake back and forth.
"Oh, this little droid! I think he's searching for his former master...I've never seen such devotion in a droid before...there seems to be no stopping him. He claims to be the property of a..."
Po's voice trailed off into a whispering mumble. With great effort, he seemed to be doing everything in his powers to complete the sentence. Slowly, he opened his mouth. "Of a Noah."
Abraham turned swiftly towards Salome and Jake, who were standing just behind him.
"General," Po said, looking frantic. "Years ago you served my father in the Flathead Wars. Now he begs you to help him in his struggle against the Wicked Witch." His voice sounded higher, like he was pretending to be Glenda the Good Witch. Or, someone else. Raymond thought he caught the hint of a British accent.
"What's he talking about?" Salome asked.
"Sounds like he's mixing up his stories," Raymond said.
"Yes," Abraham said, paying keen attention. "The Wizard of Star Wars, perhaps? Heck, I think we may even have played this with Po once."
"I believe we did," Raymond replied.
"I regret that I am unable to present my father's request to you in person," he continued. "But my balloon has fallen under attack and I'm afraid my mission to bring you to Oz has failed. This is our most desperate hour. Help me, Noah, you're my only hope."
"Princess Leia," Raymond said, finally figuring out the accent. "What do you think it-"
"Quiet!" Abraham said. "Did you hear it? He said it again!" This time, he didn't even bother to look back at Jake and Salome.
Po paused for a few moments, taking a deep breath as he looked out over the cornfield. Or whatever he was seeing in his make-belie
ve world. Raymond wished he could see it too. He always wanted to see it.
Looking out at his two younger brothers, Po frowned as his tears began again in earnest.
"Mommy! Daddy!" he screamed. He was pointing at something, something far away
With a final, tormented scream, Po threw back his head in another convulsive fit. Bringing his head back down, the tears had disappeared. Another shudder, more of an aftershock, and Po's face changed to a look of frantic worry to a frown of sympathetic loss.
"There's nothing you could have done, Scarecrow," Po began. "You'd have been killed, too, and the others would be in the hands of the Empire."
Raymond looked at Abraham. "The scene where Luke's aunt and uncle died. Po used to cry every time he watched it."
The tears returned and Po tried snorting them back. Wiping his face with the sleeves of his lime green windbreaker, he looked up towards the stars. "I want to come with you to Oz, Noah. There's nothing here for me now. I want to ride the merry-go-round. Like my father. Carousel."
With that final proclamation, Po's entire body seized up like he had stuck his finger in an electric socket. His lips started mumbling words no one could hear and he started shaking uncontrollably. In a final violent flip onto his back, the shakes were even more chaotic. And they weren't stopping.
"Grab his head!" Raymond shouted to Abraham.
Abraham quickly shifted over to help support Po's head, which was flopping up and down now like the fish Po let get away back at the lake.
"Po!" Abraham said loudly. "We're all here for you Po. It's ok!"
Salome dropped down to her knees. Leaning over him, she began gently massaging his shoulders as he continued to rock furiously from side to side.
He seized up again. With his eyes shut tight, he arched his back and let out a long, terrifying scream, at the end of which the shaking stopped. His breathing returned to normal. He opened his eyes.
Smiling, Po lifted himself so that he was sitting up straight. He opened his eyes and looked around at the clearing like he was seeing it for the first time before resting his eyes on Raymond and Abraham.