Evolution (3 page)
Authors: Cody Toye
Halfway down I heard my father’s booming voice demanding I stay upstairs. Mother still screaming I could hear wetting clomps and loud thumps, a sound that will haunt my memory forever. Convinced my father was brutally chopping my mother to tiny bits I let my imagination run wild on me. Charging through my room I flung open my closet door and chunked many childhood toys to the side. I was on a mission.
After some time I came across the item I desired, the item that would save my mother’s life! I wrapped my fingers around the hockey stick and charged the staircase once more. As I hit the bottom I felt my heart skip a beat and learned the true meaning of horror. There was so much blood splattered around the couch, that it left small ponds on our white carpet. Beads from mothers pearl necklace lay scattered across the floor like a messy game of marbles two young children refused to pick up. Father was still swinging his axe with all his might but to no avail. It took quite some time to register the whole scene in my mind; to me all I seen was blood.
Loud chomping sounds startled me back to reality. For the first time I actually saw what was right in front of me. Podradiles, five of them, crawling on all fours and tearing at my mother’s flesh. My father chopped away, but was not fast enough to save her, fat salty tears streamed down his face as he sobbed and penetrated the skin of the alligator plants. Many vines started to race up the walls and I watched in utter confusion as large bulbous pods started to sprout and then split, green slime dripped and more creatures fell into our home.
I could hear the agony in my father’s voice as the teeth sank into his upper thigh and he was dragged to the ground. A nasty ripping sound was made audible before me as I stood frozen with fear. Podradiles started running for me, several hundred pounds of insatiable hunger looking for its next meal. I could hear father screaming at me to run. “Go to your aunts house GO!”
I stood, still froze, still unable to grasp the very real and very adult concept of life threatening dangers. The creatures came closer and closer till I felt one snap at my shoe. Its teeth barely missing I panicked and starting kicking it as hard as I could, kicking at it with all my might, trying to get the nightmarish abomination away from me. I opened up the door and ran, I ran into the cool evening air, feeling my chest hurt and my lungs scream, but still I ran. I awoke to the throbbing pain of my foot colliding with the coffee table.
*~*~*
Like a pebble in a tin can, the thought of venturing out in the daylight rattled in my mind. It and only it dominated my concentration. Since this morning, I have paced back and forth across the plush grass growing in the living room. I would stop only long enough to stare out the window and shiver. Just beyond the border of the property, several bloodthirsty creatures stalked the innocent. Bloodshed stained the ground as a horrible scream came from a damned soul caught unprepared.
I sometimes wished I was no longer human, lacking the compassion we feel. I wish I could bring forth all of the animal instincts that reside in us, and think of him as nothing more than nourishment, just another creature that fell to the great circle of life. My humanity won’t hear of it. That was a neighbor, that was a father, and that was a husband. For all I know, he was also a hero battling creatures for my very survival. He was a good man and deserves better than to have his final resting place in the deep recesses of a pods bowels.
I bring my pacing to a halt and rapidly find myself on the couch, floored by a nightmarish realization. All of mankind is fucked. Every single one of us could be that man, devoured by the very thing we used to eat. A hard knock and an ironic twist of fate on the food-chain. I could feel the anger rise dragging bravery with it. The idea of our venture had taken on a new appeal. Would I sit quietly and wait for them to find me. Fuck no! I will go out fighting, I will be that hero. My new fate is as a savior to all mankind, a hero, proudly spitting in the face of Mother Nature. Man-kind will survive, Even if it kills me.
My thoughts were interrupted as Alex handed me a plate of eggs. The smell was wonderful, a needed change. Several weeks of jerky sticks wrecked my appetite, but I would give it my all. Alex smiled and handed a glass of water to me.
“It’s not much, but we haven’t been on a raid in a while.”
“It’s perfect, thank you!”
She winked at me and sat down, digging her fork into the fluffy eggs.
As I finished the wonderful meal I placed the plate into the sink, nice and gently and ran some hot soapy water. As my momma taught me, a woman cooks the man cleans the dishes. This concept seemed to strike Alex funny. Rather, the concept of cleaning at all.
“We are leaving her for good no need to worry about clean up silly!” She said chuckling. All I could do is blush. The idea of being in company of other humans was still new to me. It’s been so long that I guess I grew socially unconscious of many normal traits.
I watched as Boomers smiling face came bopping right beside me and his body starting bouncing up and down, up and down. I could his little satisfactory grunts coming from his lips and his large feet made wetting sounds.
“What in the world is he doing?” I asked with an almost obsessive curiosity
“I told him he could smash the tomatoes today before we left” Alex said almost uninterested. I guess in her world a large muscular man getting so much joy out of something as simple as jumping on tomatoes was an everyday occurrence. To me...Gosh I just laughed.
I see a crooked smile and a pause come from Boomer. He just stared at me
“What is he doing? Why is he looking at me like that?” I asked
Before she could answer I felt the impact of a half decayed tomato on the side of my face, pulp and juice sprayed in the air and tiny seeds littered the kitchen. I saw Alex double over in laughter and then her eyes widen in surprise when she got nailed with a foreign tomato missile herself. Boomer clapped and finished off the rest of the tomatoes with his feet before we could retaliate. I must admit...Boomer really is a genius. In this war he definitely was the victor.
We sat at the table soaked with juices catching our breath from a round of raucous laughter when the time caught our attention. Half past ten in the morning. Only hours before the hottest part of the day and we were yet to pack.
Alex changed clothing and laid out a list of items needed for our voyage. As for me...well I reckon I don’t mind wearing tomato juice on my shirt. I will just spray off down the road.
I could hear the rustling of bags and the sounds of zippers as they systematically packed. The cabinets were emptied and the backpacks filled with some of the most unusual items. Rope? Duct tape? I seemed to go through inventory in my mind and come up with the most bizarre scenarios for uses of Alex’s equipment. In my mind’s eye I could see Alex dressed in military fatigues, black eyeliner used as war paint and rope and duct tape at the ready. Suddenly, a podradile drops from its pod....mid- air Alex slams it to a tree and ties it there. Duct tape already being placed over its mouth. It struggles to be free but even its roar is muffled to a dull helpless meow. Alex sticks her fingers on her nose and wiggles them to and fro..mocking...”Here kitty kitty, aww what’s a matter kitty can’t bite us?”
I shake the vision away and struggle hard to keep from embarrassing myself; tiny chuckles still escape from my throat. Alex stops momentarily eyeing me suspiciously. I see Boomer come charging back into the kitchen with his backpack strapped to himself. Dangling from the outside pockets are a spoon, a fork, and a bell. The backpack itself had several bumper stickers attached to it and a pair of fuzzy dice.
As if to say “TADA!” Boomer spins and waits for approval. Right on cue Alex motions him to turn and empties the contents onto the table.
“No. No. No. and No!” she says as she pushes selected items aside. What did I say about bringing electronics Boomer? There is no electricity. I see Boomers face turn into a scowl as his arm sloshes the electronics to the side and rips the backpack from his sister’s hand and slowly slumps away.
Alex shakes her head and looks me in the eyes.
“He knows better he’s just being difficult”
With that sentiment she zips her own bag and flings it non-chalantly over her shoulder.
“We are losing daylight let’s go!”
*~*~*
Morton, Missouri
You can smell the gunpowder in the atmosphere and can hear the screams of the fallen. A new society has risen, one with savage intent. The soldiers footsteps echo in the lime caverns as they search the “marked” for reserves of ammunition, weapons, food, or anything the Morton twins deem helpful.
Jedd shakes his head and continues to search the fresh human body. What a world we live in now, he thinks to himself as he finishes up and drags the “marked” into a pile with the others. Oh how he hates that word “Marked” only during the worst of times can we deem another human life lower than our own. We have the power, we have the weapons, and we have an abundant source of fresh meat.
He sits down on the splintered wooden crate and slowly pulls a cigarette from the crumpled pack residing in his shirt pocket. He is reminded of his dire situation and the deal with the devil. He chuckles to himself, Devil? No...Devils, apparently evil runs in packs. Those damn Morton twins are both the best thing and worst thing to happen to this town.
He lights his smoke and watches the tip illuminate the dark room. The orange glow from the cherry and the feel of sweet smoke expanding and swirling in his lungs relaxes him a bit. A small part of him wishes for death. He closes his eyes and remembers how it was before the twin demons. Before “Morton, Missouri.” He had a wife damn it. A wife and a child and a normal life in Neosho, Missouri.
I guess it shows you that good old Charles Darwin was right, only the strong survive! Or in our case, the nut jobs that own a gun shop and have been preparing for an unforeseen apocalypse survive.
He finishes his smoke and flips it against the far wall watching the cinders from the cherry dance momentarily, caught in an updraft of current leaking through the dank cave. As he walks past the “marked” he kicks the body in the rips hard, relieving built up anger.
“Why did you have to be so stupid!” he yells at the body
“When a man with a very powerful gun points it at your head and asks you to swear allegiance to the cause, you should know what happens if you don’t.”
A sigh slowly escapes him. Live with defeat or die with honor! This thought plagues him. What if he was wrong in his choice and this man had it figured out. A bullet to the head seems a much better fate than a lifetime of servitude to the twins or a midnight snack for a pod creature.
He shivers as the wet slurping sounds replay in his mind. He watched two men dressed in military fatigues snatch up the marked and drag it out of the cave. With a hard thud, the marked was thrown over the fence and soldiers took aim. Jedd had no desire to watch this horrific scene.
Slowly but surely, the fresh body was surrounded by creatures of all shapes and sizes. He could hear the muscles being ripped apart and creatures making satisfying grunts. Gun blasts filled the air and the sound of death followed. The Morton’s brilliant plan use the unworthy as bait was in full swing!
Jedd slowly walked through the cavern, counting the torches that lined the wall as he weaved his way deeper into the belly of the compound. He knew the rules. No one in the bed chamber until nightfall! What are they going to do? Kill me? He thought to himself as she slide the solid metal door shut and latched it. That would be welcome relief at this point.
He kicked off his boots and pulled the only human thing he had left from his backpack. A hand mirror. A silver hand mirror with a die cast rose curling around it and painted red. No...Not red, Crimson. He smiled into the mirror. At least that was what the bottle said when I painted the dang thing, he thought.
He recalled sitting in his shop pretending to work on his “project”. A 1977 Monte Carlo he inherited. A piece of junk that he never fully intended on restoring. The body was rusted out, the motor was seized up, and the seats were missing. Jedd knew the truth though; it was there because he was a sentimental old fool. Even back then he was. The car had belonged to his father and upon his passing Jedd couldn’t bare to see it scraped for cash.
He sticks his tongue out at himself and clutches the silver hand mirror to his chest, the only thing he had left of his wife of twenty years. He closes his eyes and falls asleep cuddling Marilyn, thinking of times much better than this.
His sleep was fitful and his body teetered on the edge of the cot, staying onboard by luck alone. His mind registered the noise, but didn’t fully realize what was happening. The word “Baboons” hung in the air. He saw baboons in sundresses slowly eating cotton candy and riding unicycles in a wondrous big top carnival. They obeyed their master and slowly rode up the little ramp and onto a wire. We all clapped and cheered as one baboon fell of his unicycle and clung to the wire, only to flip his body back up on the bike. A true spectacle that only a top notch circus could pull off.
In the background light gunfire echoed through the cave and death could be heard all around. Jedd’s eyes rapidly flicked back and forth behind his eyelids, transforming the sounds, absorbing them into tangible illusions only his brain alone could comprehend. The baboons fell from the wires and into little cannons. Colorful clowns tugged at the strings and the sounds of explosions erupted before him. He watched from the crowd, his family right beside him, his daughter’s laughter lifting his soul as the mammals bodies were propelled through the air and across the room. One by one, the little creatures soared through air and exited rings of fire.