Planets Falling (23 page)

“Thank you English.  My word's final.  Prepare to get going now.”  Theo flashes a gentle smile and begins rolling his pack.  I hate him for forgiving me so easily.  And then the anger washes out.

I walk up to Theo, putting my hand on his shoulder.  He winces at the pain of an unseen injury.  I begin my apology.  “Sorry.  I was wrong to doubt you and your leadership.  I'll try to help out best I can.”

He smiles a little wider.  “Accepted.”

I clear my throat.  “Do you have a horse for me or am I riding with you again?”

“I brought Phineus with me.  He’s fast and ornery – perfect for you.”

Within a few minutes, we’re riding with Theo and his sleek steed, Silius, in the lead. Steam rises from the flanks of the horses as we reach a wide, paved path, the likes of which I’ve never seen. The road is as wide as a river and extends beyond my sight in both directions.  Few obstructions are visible – a few boulders, some stray trees, and a few oases of grass.  Otherwise, it's an impossibly smooth passage into the upper mountains.

Theo’s horse pauses with a snort.  “We need to be careful on this road.  Amy, you’re the only one here unfamiliar with this terrain. Lots of surprises can pop out when you least expect them.  The open space makes for fast traveling, but it also makes us easy targets.  All eyes open – that includes all you old timers.”  He smiles at Bets.

She replies, “Watch who you’re callin’ old, Theo.  I was still a little bawling baby when you were stealing kisses from all the girls.”

I roll my eyes.  We begin riding up the path.  The air cools perceptibly, making me wish I had more layers to wear.  I’m not the only one exposed.  Samuel and English look like they barely had time to change out of their bedclothes. I push Phineus to canter up next to Silius and Theo.  “Theo, are there any settlements along the way?  We’re going to need provisions to survive the elements.”

“If I’ve read the map correctly, our destination’s about a two-day ride into the mountain.  We go east and then north at a fork labeled with a large, green sign with some strange markings.  He points at the book strapped to his pack.  There used to be a small village near the split in the road – a trading post linking the high desert towns past the mountains to our homeland.  A few trappers live there with some loggers.  They should have coats to trade with us.  Luckily, I brought some stuff to barter.”  He pats the bags on his saddle.  “And you thought it was foolish to collect rings, jewels, and shiny things.”

It’s not even the middle of the morning and my rump is throbbing.  I haven’t ridden a horse in years.  I keep catching Bets glaring at me.  English is whistling as if he hasn’t a care in the world.  Images of Eliza make my heart race.  I’ll die if she’s really gone.  In addition to the pain in my ass, my breasts are beginning to ache.  I was slowly weaning the girl, but hadn’t completed the process.  Strangely, the pain's comforting, reminding me that I’m a mother and that somehow I’m doing the right thing.

The wind's picking up. The scents of pine needles and wood smoke tickle my nose.  Phineus’ strength fortifies me.  I’m already falling in love with him.  He's edgy, but calms down at my touch.  I can feel his emotions through his skin.  When I jump up on him I can feel his joy.  Two days of riding pass and we approach a small enclave surrounded by a wall of considerable fifteen-foot poles.  Tendrils of smoke drift down the mountainside, so someone is home.

We stop at the edge of the road and look over the path leading to the front gate.  Bets murmurs, “Why do they need the walls?  What are they trying to keep out?”

“Let’s find out,” Samuel says as he throws a rock at the gate.  “Hello.  Anyone home?  We’d like some shelter for the night.  We have barter.”

Samuel’s announcement is met by silence, although the smoke continues billowing.  Theo walks up to the gate and looks for a bell or knocker of some sort.  “It’s strange they have no one on watch if they’re concerned enough to build this wall.”  He examines the gate closely.  “There’s sign of a struggle here.  The gate is torn up and there are scorch marks.  He pushes on it and it gives way.  We join him and the gate swings open with a screech of tortured wood and bent metal.

“Hello?”  Bets yells as she draws her bow and peers into the commons.  The fortress contains a dozen simple log buildings, a few trees, and a large, whitewashed, plank barn.  The smoke originates from a stone chimney in one of the houses.  Its window is shuttered but the door is ajar.  No movement, animal or human, is evident.

“This place's a graveyard,” Theo says in a hush. “But there might well still be some ghosts hiding in the shadows.  English and Bets come with me.  Amy and Samuel stay here with the horses.  If you hear a commotion, come in with your swords drawn.”

The three deftly approach the building.  Bets and Samuel cover the door while Theo rushes into the space.  Theo reappears shaking his head.  “There’s a fire in the hearth but no one there. It’s as if everyone vanished.  Let’s check the other buildings.”

Each house is filled with the stuff of life - clothing, blankets, books, preserves, and firewood.  The fireplaces are cold and food is left on the tables in many of them.  It seems that whoever lived here left without packing and with no sign of the struggle that was written on the outer wall.  The barn's empty as well, although fresh hay is scattered in the stables.  We ready the horses for the night when I notice one of the little green ones sitting on a bench near the east wall.  I had no idea they traveled beyond our village.  I smile at it.  It seems unfazed by me, hopping up, looking down, and then vanishing into the ground.

I walk over to the spot and notice an iron ring jutting from the dirt.  I brush the soil away to uncover a large wooden-plank door leading to what appears to be a huge root cellar. “Hey, English and Samuel.  Come over here and help me open this up.  Maybe the answer is down here.  Or we might find some provisions.”

We lift the heavy door and a pungent, slightly sweet funk assaults us. We can see a ladder but the bottom isn’t visible.  English croaks.  “Bets, please be a dearie and bring over a torch.”

Samuel smiles crookedly.  “Want to draw lots on who goes down in there?”

“I’ll go,” I say.

“Not the chosen one, peaches,” English gently pushes me back while grabbing the torch.  “Wish me luck”.  He descends.  Within moments, he reappears, his cool expression replaced by the pallor of a corpse. “Well, I found the townspeople.  They won’t be bothering us.”

English nearly falls off the ladder back into the hole when Theo shouts, “Get over here quick.  I found someone.”

We discover Theo holding a small boy, about twelve years old, by the scruff of his tunic.  The kid is agitated, but in good health, relatively clean, and well fed.  He begins shouting.  “Who are you people? Why’d you come here?  They’ll come back now, so you got to leave.  Please let me go.”

“Who are they?”  English asks.  He’s regained his composure with impressive speed.

“The fog,” the dark boy answers as if English is stupid for asking.

“What’re you talking about?” Theo asks.

The boy’s face betrays confusion and mistrust.  “Where do you come from?  How can you not know about the fog?  We had a truce with them since before I was born.  But, when the moon went dark, they came for our blood.  I hid.  But they got the rest.”

Bets kicks a clod of dirt.  “Apparently, we’re not the only victims of this horseshit monster attack.  Kid did your village have someone special?”  She looks directly at me.

“What you mean lady?  I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Was there someone who tended your gardens?  Had gifts?  Like they could see the future, grow anything anywhere, catch animals without effort?  Someone who got special attention and was treated better than anyone else?”

“No, but, we had visitors here – two men – that wore strange clothes like yours from down the mountain.  More than three seasons ago.  They were traveling with a tall, cloaked man who did not enter our town.  We only let them stay here for a few days before they left early one morning with no warning and no provisions.  My parents and the other grown-ups said they brought ill will to us.  After that, we didn’t allow any strangers in.  Not that it matters no more.”

My stomach flipped.  Wenn, father, and perhaps Fromer had been here.  I knew it.  “What’s your name?”

He runs his hands through his thick black hair.  “My name’s Philip, although the town people and my folks mostly call me Flip.  We’ve got to hide.  I can feel when the fog’s coming.  The grown-ups always relied on me to let them know when to be ready.”

It dawns on me that Flip is the special one.  I can feel it in him.  The green one I saw over the death pit wasn’t there for me.  It’s with him. 

Theo regains control. “Flip, this fog.  You’re saying that it’s to blame for the..."  He stops to think of a gentle way to ask. “The loss of your people?  How’d the fog do this to them?”

Again, Flip looks as if he is being asked a stupid question.  “The fog turns into monsters.  The monsters kill and eat us.  Simple.”

We consider this for a spell, reflecting on the similar events that destroyed our town.  I take the boy by the hand.  “Flip.  Show me your town.  We’ve been traveling hard for the past couple of days and we're tired, hungry, and cold.  Can you show us where we can get some warmer clothes and food?”

“Follow me,” he says pulling me toward the largest building.  “We stored stuff in here.”

Once we are beyond ear-shot of the others my interrogation begins.  “Flip, tell me the truth.  Could you always see the little green creatures?  You, know what I’m talking about don’t you?”

Flip’s eyes widen as he scratches his head.  “You see the greenlings?  I thought my mother and me were the only ones.”

I smile sadly.  “Well, I thought only girls could see them.  What did your mom do?”

“First, I’m no girl.  About my mom, she tended to the forest.  My family’s loggers and millers.  We produce the best wood in these parts.  Our mill is about a mile from here, along the ridge.  I went there after the fog lifted, but no one’s there.  My dad and brother went missing at the mill.  My mom –“ He looks over at the root cellar door.

I change the subject.  “Flip, show me where the provisions are.”  He shows me shelves of preserved vegetables, jerky, hardtack, cheese, and even some salted fish.  Barrels of ale and wine extend into the shadows   These people were prepared for a siege.  After that, he leads me to his family’s house, where he opens an enormous cedar chest full of his mother’s winter clothes.  This breaks my heart.

“Mom’s got no use for them anymore.  I’d hate to see them go to the moths.”  No tears.  Just a matter of fact.

“Thank you so much.”  I eagerly wrap myself in a knitted sweater and pull on some thick socks.  The perfume of his mom mixed with fragrant cedar wafts from the box and the clothes.

That evening, we feast on our first solid meal in three days.  We try to be sensitive to the boy and curb our jubilation.  Still, it's pretty obvious that we're enjoying ourselves.  English is drunk from downing an entire flask of potent honey wine he found in one of the houses.  We all have raided the houses for clothes, blankets, and a few comforts such as a sack of hard licorice candy.  Flip doesn’t seem to mind.

Theo comes up to Flip and wraps a blanket over the boy’s shoulders.  “Philip.  We’ll look for your father and brother.  They may still be in the woods, hiding.”

“Theo, sir, they’d never leave the town.  They didn’t come back from the mill, so they’re certainly dead.  The fog got ‘em just like everyone else.”  The boy's either surprisingly level-headed or in complete shock.

English is now drunk enough to leap past tact.  “Boy, how’d you not end up with your feller village people, dead in that pit?”

Samuel stands and grabs English by the arm.  “Goodness man.  The boy just lost his entire world.  It’s one thing for us adults to lose so much, but he’s just a boy.”

Flip’s face goes blank.  “They told me to hide in the cellar under the bodies.”

English dribbles wine.  “Who…exactly…are…they?”

The boy looks at me for help.  We don’t want to tell them about the green ones.  I stammer, “English, leave Flip alone.  You needn’t interrogate him.  He’s lucky to be alive and was very brave.”

Bets gets up.  “I’m going to lie down in a real bed.  I presume we’ll be off in the morning?”

“Yes, we need to head north,” Theo replies.  “Flip, you’re coming with us.”

We all shift uncomfortably.  English throws down his flask and walks into the darkness beyond the hearth.  Now they have two problems to deal with:  me and the kid.

“I’m not going with you,” the boy responds.  “You’ll be riding right into the monsters’ land.  They’ll rip you apart.  Why aren’t you going down toward the flats where you came from?”

Theo smiles sadly.  “We’re searching for a place up the mountain where we’ll find answers.”

“Well, the only answers up there are to stupid questions.  You people are touched.”  Flip gets up.  “I’ll see you off in the morning.  Doubt you’ll ever return.”  He looks at me.  “Are you sure you want to go?” 

“We have to go,” Theo responds noticing the boy’s gaze.  “The reason we’re going up is for her.”

Flip gives me a puzzled look and leaves.

I’m sleeping deeply on a bed by a dying fire when Flip shakes me to consciousness.  “Miss Amy, we’ve got to go.  They’re coming back for both of us.  I can see them at dawn.”