She approached the mayor's front porch, but he barked at her to stop in her tracks. "Dylan," he finally said. "Grab those papers and bring them to me."
Dylan looked up at Judith's worn features. Without taking her eyes off the mayor, Judith gave Dylan her handful of papers. Mayor Sandoz gestured fitfully for Dylan to come up the stairs, grabbed the papers from him, and tossed them in Crystal’s direction like he had picked up a rattlesnake. With a disgusted look on her face, fingertips barely touching the edges, Crystal began to skim them. The stress lines around her mouth loosened as her lips parted and eyes widened, then she whispered a few words, quick and clipped, in Mayor Sandoz’s ear. The mayor gestured Judith inside. She hobbled up to the nearest railing and leaned her metal device against it, untangling the saddlebag from the back.
Mayor Sandoz looked down at Dylan. "Thanks, son," he said, voice assuming a false warmth that only adults believed. "You can head home now, I bet your parents are worrying about you.”
Dylan thought for a moment. "Where is Judith going to stay?" he asked. It didn't seem right to send her right back out of town in the middle of the night.
"Don't you worry about that, Dylan. We'll find somewhere for her to sleep. If these papers are right, she’ll need to be here for a while. Now head on home."
Dylan stood his ground. "Penelope could take her in. She could help Judith find her way around tomorrow."
Mayor Sandoz halted mid-condescension. He nodded. "You make a good point, Dylan. I'll have Crystal talk to Penelope. Now, get outta here before I tan you!"
~~~~~
Dylan’s mother did not take kindly to the news of the new woman, and how she found the town. Violet and Henry, Dylan’s older siblings, smirked at him over the dinner table as his mother lit into him about the dangers of leaving the town. His father looked worried, but said little, and focused on chewing his potatoes. Dylan was dismissed from the dinner table early.
A few hours later, after his mother had time to calm down, his father brought Dylan an antelope jerky sandwich, on the stale crust of the last loaf of bread, with some pickled carrots and string beans. This time last year, they had fresh tomatoes and spinach, but the garden had all withered after the mayor rationed water.
His father placed the plate carefully on the edge of Dylan’s bed and sat next to it. He studied his son’s face for a minute after Dylan told him thank you and pretended to read his tablet.
“You walked into town with a stranger, Dylan. Where did you run into her?” his father asked, voice low and soft with deliberation.
Dylan stalled by chewing an chunk of jerky. “Just outside of town,” he finally replied, but knew after he said it that it wouldn’t be vague enough for his father.
“How far outside of town?”
“I dunno. A couple of kilometers, I guess.”
“How did you get a couple of kilometers outside of town without getting lost?”
Dylan couldn’t think of a good excuse, so he didn’t say anything.
“Did you follow the highway?”
Dylan shrugged and asked, “What’s the High Way?”
His father looked at him. “It’s a long stretch of road. Used to run through this town. It’s probably all broken down now. It’s made from tarmac and concrete, jet black.”
Dylan took another bite of his sandwich. His father sighed again, and pushed the power button on his son’s tablet.
“You did, didn’t you? You found the highway and you walked along it.”
Dylan nodded as he chewed.
“Alright. I won’t tell your mother about this, okay? But you can’t go there again. It’s ... far too dangerous. There’s a reason no one uses it. Nothing good ever came down that highway.”
“Judith isn’t bad,” Dylan said. He tried to keep his voice quiet, but his hackles were raised in her defense.
“We’ll see about that,” his father said, and got up.
~~~~~
Dylan woke up before the rest of his family, slugged a huge glass of dusty water, and grabbed a can of peaches from the pantry on his way out. The sun had barely been up an hour, and already the day was sweltering. Normally, he would have stayed inside as long as he could tolerate, or picked a direction along the black road to explore some more, but today, he wanted to go to Penelope’s house before the inevitable crowd began to gather to stare at the newcomer.
He spotted two shadows just behind Penelope’s kitchen curtains as he ran up to the porch and knocked on the door. Judith’s contraption leaned against the porch railing. The tires were black, like the road she’d come in on, and the framework was an ancient rusted metal, which Dylan could see, through the browned layers, had once been painted blue.
Penelope’s freckled, perpetually-sun-reddened face peeked through the door at him.
“Hi Dylan, what are you doing here?” she asked, pushing the door open a little further. Strands of wispy red hair were already clinging to her neck.
“I’m here to see how Judith is doing,” he replied, and handed her the can of peaches as a peace offering. She took them and let him scoot past her into her dining area.
Penelope’s kitchen table was covered in papers, schematics, wires, and several tablets, which were plugged into a generator that hummed away underneath the table. Judith eyed him over the rim of her glass of water.
“Hi Judith,” he said as he sat down. Penelope returned with the peaches in a bowl, sprinkled with sugar and cheese curds, and a few slices of bread.
Judith finished her sip of water, took a slice of bread, and dipped it into the peach juice. “Hi Dylan,” she finally said, a note of caution edging her voice.
Dylan decided to mirror Judith’s breakfast choices, hoping to show her that he was alright, he didn’t want to gawk at her like everyone else had yesterday. He dipped a crust of bread into the peach juice and sucked the soft, sweet remains away. After an adult-length pause, he asked, “That device you came in on yesterday? What is it?”
Judith scooped up a peach slice with a piece of bread and shoved it into her mouth; Dylan mirrored the action, but his slice was bigger than hers and he had to chew furiously to keep it from falling out of his mouth.
“You don’t have those here?” she asked, licking sugar off her fingers. Dylan shook his head.
“It’s called a bicycle,” Judith answered. “There’s a series of gears on the back and front with a chain running along them that, when you pedal, move the wheels. It’s much faster than walking.”
“Can I try it?” Dylan asked. Penelope coughed and caught Dylan’s eye. Her pointed stare told him he might have crossed a line of politeness. Dylan stifled more questions with a large peach slice, which did not quite fit in his mouth. The left corner of Judith’s mouth twitched up in a smile.
Penelope took a large cheese curd and chewed it thoughtfully, watching Dylan’s panicked chewing more closely than he liked. When he was close to done, she said, “Did Judith tell you anything about why she’s here?”
Dylan shook his head, but added, to show he knew something about current events, “I would guess it’s pretty important if you got a generator from the mayor.”
Penelope nodded. “There’s going to be a big meeting about it later today at the Mayor’s Office. There won’t be many friendly faces in the crowd, so we might need you to help us convince everyone that she’s here to for a good reason.”
Judith took a long sip of water and watched Dylan. He shrugged and nodded.
A pocket-sized tablet on the table gently buzzed against a pile of papers. Judith snatched it from its nesting spot and flicked it on, hand shaking. After some moments of Penelope and Dylan staring at her in silence, she put the device down and pushed her chair back.
“Penelope, let the mayor know I’m ready to meet everyone. I’ll gather some things and meet you at his office.”
~~~~~
The townsfolk turned out in force, mainly to gawk at the sunburnt newcomer and her creaking metal. The kids murmured their disappointm
ent that Judith was not astride the machine today, and Dylan corrected them by explaining the bicycle and how it worked. It was much faster than walking after all, and maybe Penelope, or Josh the blacksmith, could build a few of the machines for everyone to ride around town. Dylan’s mother shushed the idea and shrugged apologetically at their neighbors.
Penelope, Judith, and Crystal leaned against the outside wall of the mayor’s office. Mayor Sandoz shuffled some papers in his hands and cleared his throat. He raised a hand and the murmuring buzz from the townsfolk immediately stopped.
“My friends,” he said, syrupy kindness entering his voice, his lips spread wide to display his huge white teeth. “As you know, Dr. Judith Wright came into town yesterday on a mission from the National Meteorological Survey. I have spoken with her at length, and she is not here to force our allegiance. Rather, she is here to warn us of a potential tragedy, and to help us.”
The murmuring resumed, louder, and shuffling feet kicked up dust. Mayor Sandoz raised his hand again.
“Dr. Wright has been sent to visit towns like ours, to help us avoid the Onslaught. She’s going to tell us now what we need to do. I plan to help her, and I expect you all to do the same.”
Judith stepped to the edge of the stairs and thanked Mayor Sandoz. She lifted a hand to cover her eyes and examine the sea of faces before her.
“About two years ago, the National Meteorological Survey noticed something on long-range radars,” she said, making eye contact with each person in the crowd. “After some analysis, we realized it was relic technology from Pre-War times.” She paused for a moment as the frightened murmuring turned into outright argument, borderline panic. When it died down, she began again. “This is a frightening situation, but there are things we can do. Unfortunately, this town isn’t very big, so everyone is going to have to work hard for the next few days.”
Dylan’s mother, who had been muttering to herself behind her hand, shouted, “I remember Pre-War times, doctor. I moved out here to escape that Smart Tech, so my children wouldn’t have to know that fear. How do we know your plan will keep us safe? And for how long?”
Other members of the crowd nodded, took defensive stances, and glared at Judith for a satisfying answer.
“Because I’ve dealt with this before,” she replied.
~~~~~
For three days, in the hot sun, every member of the town followed Judith’s and Penelope’s directions. Young children mixed precious water with dirt, older children hauled reed mats out of houses and handed them to lithe adults, who dashed up ladders and passed them off to other adults, who spread the reeds on roofs and smeared the mud on top. Mothers and daughters swept white sand onto their porches, and yelled at anyone who left footprints in their work.
Dylan was one of the water-bearers, running up and down the main street with a yoke and two buckets slung across his shoulders. When the town ran out of reed mats, he and some of the other boys collected dead long grass under the curious gaze of antelope herds that flicked their soft ears to brush the humans and the flies alike away.
Judith and Penelope spent their time analyzing information on tablets and writing equations on giant pieces of butcher paper. They bickered and bartered with each other in the hot sun on the mayor’s porch, with Crystal running back and forth to bring them more chalk or a new generator.
Eventually, their supplies ran out. They had just enough water for the whole town to survive a week, according to Penelope, so the kids stopped making mud. Judith peeled a piece of sunburnt skin off her forearm, but nodded as Penelope explained the situation with supplies. They had not covered all the houses in town, but it would have to suffice. Judith took the three remaining portable generators, and set one of her tablets up under a reed mat in the center of town. It would run constantly for the next week, she hoped, scanning the skies and hopefully deflecting some of the smarter pieces of Smart Tech.
Those who had not managed to cover their houses were instructed to pile their belongings into storage wherever they could, bring any extra food they’d been saving, and bunk with neighbors. Dylan’s family took in two neighbor families, the Saro-Wiwas and the Evrards. Both families had two children, none of whom were in Dylan’s age range, so he accepted that he would be bored for a week inside. At least his most recent sunburn would have time to heal.
The first wave came late, just after a late dinner of the last of the pickled carrots and some rabbit that Henry caught and smoked. Dylan leaned against the kitchen window, naming constellations to himself, when he caught sight of the approaching pack in a beam of moonlight — bobbing silver spheres with black boxes dangling from them. They moved slowly but steadily toward the town.
“Mom...” Dylan said. She gazed out in the direction he pointed, then turned on her heel and frantically began blowing out candles. Mrs. Saro-Wiwa ripped a tablet from her teenage son’s hands and turned it off. Dylan’s father threw blankets against the larger windows, and the Evrards closed bedroom doors.
The group huddled in the living room and watched the silent silver parade waft over the town through the tiniest crack in the curtains.
“Are those the balloons?” Violet asked. “They’re so much closer than Penelope said they’d get.”
“Be quiet, Vi,” Dylan’s mother snapped, voice gritty with tension. They remained silent as the last of the spherical apparitions disappeared into the distance.
~~~~~
The next wave came just after sun-up. No one in the house had slept well, and everyone crawled out of bed as soon as they heard Dylan pour his first cup of water. As the group quietly began searching the kitchen for breakfast, Chidi, the Saro-Wiwas’ barely-six-year-old son, rushed to the window and stared with his face pressed up against the glass. His mother grabbed him as soon as she noticed, but stopped just after she pulled his face away from the pane.
Dylan stopped crunching a string bean long enough to listen — a modulated hum, like a beehive, was getting louder, closer.
“Look at the size of that dust cloud,” Dylan’s father said, as pale yellow dust rolled through the street outside, obscuring the view.
Dylan approached the kitchen window quickly, while the adults began to close the curtains in each room. A rounded object, four insect-like wings aflurry on each corner of its body, landed on the Evrards’ house next door. Another landed beside it, then another, until a swarm sat perched on the roof of the house.
A dull rumbling shook the floor and rattled Dylan’s teeth. He ran away from the window and hid under the table. The two younger children in the house wailed, then stifled their cries as the families threw blankets over themselves and hid under furniture.
Yellow dust seeped up through cracks in the floor. A long beam of sunlight peaked through the kitchen window’s curtain, and Dylan watched it move across his vision as the humming and rumbling drowned out the uncomfortable coughing and terrified sniffing of the people trapped together inside the small, humid house. When the beam of sunlight began warming the back of his hand, Dylan finally noticed that the buzzing was gone, and the rumbling died down.
Anise, the Evrards’ nearly-adult daughter, sprang to her feet first and ran to the kitchen window. Dylan and the Evrard parents were close behind. Their neighbors’ house was gone, reduced to a tiny pile of brown brick pieces and white plaster flecks. Anise allowed herself a sob before turning away to clean up the pile of blankets.
~~~~~
A massive wave of silver balloons came the next day, through the afternoon and into the evening. The house was hot and sweaty, as the blankets had gone up against the windows early in the day. No one was willing to take them down, even for a breath of fresh air.
Just as an improvised supper — sauerkraut, antelope jerky, and ancient cans of spongy ham — hit the table, a knock at the door froze the group in fear. Dylan’s mother cautiously stood from the table, crept as quietly as she could toward the door, and peeked through a crack. A whispered exchange, and the visitor came in.
; It was Judith. She was covered in yellow dust from the street, and wheeled her creaking bicycle in behind her.
“Good, I’m glad to see you’re all alright,” she said as she pulled her pocket tablet out of a saddle bag and fingered some figures into it.
“Hi, Judith,” Dylan said. She looked up at him and a corner of her mouth twitched up.
“Thank you for coming, Dr. Wright,” Dylan’s mother said, after giving her son a squinting look of disapproval.
“We should have about 10 hours before the next wave,” Judith said, “I’m making sure the modifications are holding, and everyone is doing alright on food and water.”
Mr. Saro-Wiwa shrugged. “We’re doing as well as anyone else, I expect. The water’s a little dirty and we’re living on canned goods.” His wife play-slapped his wrist.
Judith nodded. “I can’t be sure yet, but I think we only have one more wave after this. The quadcopters destroyed...” She looked around at the stoic faces. Anise bit her lip and gripped her younger sister’s hand. “They destroyed a lot of the town, unfortunately, but in another day or two the Smart Tech should have passed over. Keep all your activities at a minimum until then — the Clean-Up Crew is always the smartest.”
Everyone nodded. Judith put her mini-tablet away and wheeled her bicycle to the door. As the door opened, a distant rumble — like a cat’s purr and a failing generator’s growl — echoed off the walls of buildings throughout the town and into Dylan’s home.
Judith ducked back inside and slammed the door shut. “Damn,” she muttered.
Dylan snuck a peek outside through the hanging blankets. The sun had sunk well below the horizon, spreading a blanket of stars across the sky, and he couldn’t see anything other than their twinkling, and the dark outlines of houses across the town, blue in the moonlight.
The rumbling grew louder, with an underlying pulse that shook settled dust off the rims of picture frames. Judith helped the family arrange sturdy furniture into the middle of the room, hiding the youngest children in the center.
Cracking. Explosions. Screaming. Glass breaking and tinkling down the street. Something heavy thudding into the main road. Pebbles bouncing off the house’s windows, like drops of rain. A heavy boom more felt than heard.
Even Chidi sat in solid silence as the blasts rolled through the town.
Fiction Vortex - August 2014 Page 4