H Romero - The Girl Who's Made of Leaves - Post Apocalyptic Science Fiction

“Into the Turned ?” Nettle says.

“Yes, into the Turned , but at first it wasn’t bad. There were small physical changes early on and then people began to attack any and every living thing. We kept moving on, mile after mile… day after day. It wasn’t long before things became much worse. We realized we couldn’t outrun it anymore, so we decided it would be best to take shelter at Camp Able.”

“Where did you find us? Did you bring me with you from California?” says Rose.

“I found you near Camp Able, one day when I was out doing field research, Rose. Nettle, you and the other children were already at Camp Able when Major Connors and I arrived.”

Rose remains quiet, gazing into the spoon, and thinking more about Dr. Valentine’s story, before laying the spoon on a small table, and asking, “Where’s your daughter now?

“She’s gone. She became ill and died a few days later.” A pang of deep guilt throbbed within Dr. Valentine. “I helped her die, to ease her suffering. I didn’t know then that if I’d left her alone, she would have recovered. She would have become something like you. Something not quite human.”

“What are we?” says Rose.

Dr. Valentine takes a deep breath, making her chest rise, she holds it a moment then exhales slowly, her shoulders slump as the breath whistles gently when escaping through her teeth. “I think you’re, two, very sick little girls, but I believe we may still be able to help you, and other children like yourselves, somehow.”

“Dr. Shaw doesn’t think so, does he? He doesn’t think we can be helped. He thinks we’re monsters, and he wants to kill us, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, he does, but I want to believe that there is still hope, and I’ll try to find a way to help you.”

The men return to the inn by 1700 hours. Something has Connors very anxious, even more than usual. He calls Dr. Shaw and Dr. Valentine outside to speak with him. Dr. Valentine instructs Rose to wait with Nettle and not to go anywhere. To make sure the girls stay put, Private Nelson is assigned to keep an eye on them. He’s not observant, he’s exhausted, and points the barrel of his rifle in the general direction of the girls and chews his dirty fingernails.

From where Rose is seated, directly in front of the large, wood-framed windows, she has a good view of what’s going on outside. Strapped across the hood of one of the trucks is an animal; large and brown. Superimposed images of earth’s creatures closely matching this one, flicker across her vision. The sensation isn’t as strong as the first time she experienced a flood of information. Perhaps she’s become conditioned to the vertiginous feeling it causes within her. Before the experience would upset and nauseate her, but now she welcomes it when it happens. The pictures and words help her to classify and categorize things like the animal, outside.

Strange symbols scroll before her eyes, even if she closes her eyelids, she can still see the information clearly. She’s been unable to decipher them, but this time, it’s as if someone flicked a switch. The symbols are changing and rearranging so she can read them. The correct image of the animal, eventually, flashes before her vision and freezes, and the symbols hovering over the image reads White-Tail Deer - Odocoileus Virginianus – Planet Earth – Herbivore – Non-Hostile . The information is prerecorded in her brain, but its absent of one small, but important variance. The very same detail which is most likely Major Connors’s concern, and has Dr. Shaw and Dr. Valentine’s full attention.

Major Connors is holding something which is attached to one of the bodies of the deer. It presents as long, and wispy, and green, much like a vine with bifurcations along its main trunk. The source of his apprehension is plain to Rose. The contamination is spreading beyond humans and affecting the planet’s wildlife.

“So much for fresh, venison,” says Private Nelson who’s looking over her shoulder, and out the window. He wrinkles his nose, showing missing teeth, he sneers at Rose, and Nettle, in turn, giving a stare meant to cause them to melt into trembling puddles. “Gosh darned, Turned-thangs. ”

Within the hour the carcasses are removed as from the inn as safely possible and burned, and afterward, everyone goes to the river as a group to clean up. Layers upon layers of dirt and odor are scrubbed from wearied bodies. The water has a powerful revitalizing effect on everyone.

In happier days, before the Turned came, people would have come down to the river to swim and socialize with each other. They’d have played games, and had barbeques, and picnics would have dotted the waving bank. Even a marriage or two might have been performed near the water’s edge. Maybe those days are gone. Maybe not. Who knows? But even now, after so much death has flooded the land with spilled human blood, the clean rushing water still offers a gift which lifts the spirits of even the most hopeless of souls, and temporarily washes away the weariness. Even Rose and Nettle find, somewhere, deep inside themselves, a playful and genuine child-like spirit, whether it truly belongs within them or not.

A beautiful bronze statue resides in the river water, perched squarely on a large, flat-topped boulder. The statue is one of a lovely young woman with long hair cascading down her back. The passing waves wet the woman’s bronzed face, making it appear, to those who gaze upon it, that the woman is sobbing. Tears cascade down her face. She has the tail of a big fish. Her scales are sturdy, and thick, and gleam prominently in the hot sun.

When Rose looks at the expression of the woman, frozen in time, she thinks of Dr. Valentine, because to her, the woman looks so sad; so broken. She takes a place, wet with river-water, in front of the statue. On the rock, there’s a large catfish, and next to the fish is a bronze plaque which reads: THE SIREN OF SALADO.

Once upon a time, an Indian maiden named Sirena wanted very much to be married to an Indian brave, but this Indian brave did not feel for Sirena like she did for him. She would sit by the water every day and watch herself in the reflection of the rippling water. She spoke her wish that the Indian brave would fall madly in love with her.

A magical catfish, swimming in the cold water, overheard her wish and came to the surface to speak with her. He swore to help her to win the love of her heart’s desire. If she would in return, agree to become a mermaid on each full moon for a year and swim with the catfish in the water. Also, she would have to agree to one additional thing…

Rose steals a quick glance at the bronze casting of the catfish, trying to imagine the conversation between it and Sirena before she returns to reading the story. She thinks, Ah, here’s the catch .

If human eyes should ever see her, while she was transfigured into a mermaid, she would have to remain a mermaid forever and stay with the catfish.

“You planned it all, you dirty, old catfish.”

Sirena agreed on the catfish’s terms, and soon she became the young bride of the Indian brave, and on every full moon, she would swim with the catfish as she promised. On the last full moon of the year, she was swimming when a fishing hook snagged her fin and forced her to the shoreline to remove it.

All the while, she pulled and tugged on the hook to remove it from her fin, her husband was watching her from a place amongst the trees. Their eyes met, her heart broke. And the catfish pulled her into the icy water, never to see her true love again. The legend claims the waters of the river flow from the Siren’s tears.

“I recognize you,” Nettle says, startling Rose.