James Scotson - Planets Falling

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.”

My first thought is strangely not of danger. Rather, I’m annoyed that these creatures from the north won’t let me get sleep. “Flip, go tell the others. What time is it?”

“About an hour until sunrise.” He’s gone in an instant.

I pack my bag quickly, making sure to include extra blankets and as much hardtack and jerky as possible. Shouting outside suggests that Flip’s message has been heeded. I emerge into the dark, damp, cold to see Bets, Theo, and Samuel saddling up their horses. English is not there. “Where’s that shit at?” I ask them.

“I dunno,” Bets exclaims. “But if that boy’s making us move for no reason, he’s going to end up with the rest of his village.”

Flip is right, though. I can see three greenlings, as he calls them, standing on a hay bale pointing toward the south wall. I presume that this is where the fog will enter the encampment. The scent of lamp oil, manure, and decay drifts into the commons and the horses begin whinnying. “Flip, are you still planning to stay?” I ask.

His face is pale and his eyes wide with fear. “No ma’am. I’ll go with you for a bit.”

“You can ride with me on Phineus.”

The smell grows stronger. Dim, greenish light appears and Samuel shouts for English, with no response. The first tendrils of greyish-brown mist descend the south wall when we hear rustling underground. The sound emanates from the large root cellar and the fog moves toward it. Then the groans begin. At first I think it is English trapped in the ground, but I instantly realize that the moans are increasing in number — a symphony of dead throats singing to our doom. The alien fog is waking the dead and apparently, the bodies are animated enough to scale the ladder because the door is rattling. The large iron ring is flipping back and forth ominously. I don’t want to see what might pop out.

“We need to ride,” Theo exclaims. None of us protest. We exit the north gate and head up the road toward the clear morning light, riding hard for quite some time. The air’s clear and calm and the horses are settled. We pause to rest at high noon. We left English’s horse in the clearing in the town. I suppose we’re all expecting to see him galloping toward us. Neither he nor the fog and its allies appear to be pursuing.

Theo is chewing on a piece of hardtack and studying the elder’s book. I hand him a blade of grass. “Do you think that idiot English will find us?”

“English may have drunk himself silly last night. But he’s mighty capable in a fight. He’ll catch up to us if he can. We need him.” Theo takes the grass and ties it into a knot. “I’m leaving him markers to know where we’re going.” He points to a small cairn on the side of the road. “We use these during hunting trips to find the best lots. They’re hard to notice unless you’re looking for them.”

We ride two more days in brilliant, optimistic sunshine, making frequent stops to allow Theo to check his book and read the landscape. We arrive at another fork in the road, with a rusted green sign hanging by a single bolt. It screeches as it swings in the wind. “By the symbols on this sign and the lay of the land, we are to head east here.” Theo stacks a few flat rocks and we are on our way again.

We’re in the high desert now. A small, ruined city lays ahead, dark and angry looking. I see my first skeleton in the dust, looking as if was recently uncovered by the winds. At the outskirts of the rusted buildings and scattered rubble, we again head north into sparsely wooded hills, following what used to be a paved road. Theo slows Silius considerably and searches earnestly for some landmark. “All of you, we’re looking for a large metal tower with a plate on top. The trees here might be hiding the view. The structure should be on a ridge.”

We fan out and shortly Bets exclaims, “Over here”.

She’s standing before a vast metal lattice reaching above the trees. A few straggly vines hang from it. Otherwise, it looks well maintained, as if it is still in use. Of course, none of us know what the purpose of such a strange thing might be. Perhaps the ancients used it to climb and search for approaching enemies. It appears that they are still using it, which makes me nervous.

Theo hops off Siluis and gives him a pat. “From here we walk.”

“How far?” Bets asks.

“An hour, perhaps less. Look for a metallic door in the hillside with a red circle on it. It was meant to be hidden, so we need to look carefully.”

Three hours pass. We’ve walked up and down the hillside several times. Samuel and Flip have given up and Bets is cursing and kicking small rocks. Theo is perched on a reddish boulder, rubbing his forehead, patiently reading the leather book, and sipping a little flask of shine. I continue to walk around, more curious about the plants and animals I see than finding the door. I marvel at the variety of life in such an apparently dry and desolate place — very different than the moist, warm gardens of my home. I’m chasing a tiny tan lizard through the brush and trip over a long, braided metallic cable, unlike anything I’ve seen before. The metal isn’t corroded and was clearly buried at one time. I follow it up the hill, as it snakes in and out of the ground. And then I see an indentation on the side of a small outcropping. I touch it and a sheet of dust, sand, and rubble falls away to reveal two metal doors, both with faded red circles on them, and a box that resembles what I’ve seen in so much of the junk in the rubbish piles. There are nine symbols on squares, each representing a number from 1 to 9 in the writing of the ancients, according to Teacher. I presume that these numbers represent some sort of puzzle that will open the doors. I hope desperately that the answer to Eliza’s disappearance is in there. Maybe Fromer, father, and Wenn are waiting for us.

I hop down the hill to Theo. “Found it. Give me some of that shine to celebrate.”

Theo jumps up, dropping his book. A piece of parchment falls out and whips toward me in the wind. I pick it up and notice that it is a sketch of a young woman who resembles me or perhaps mom. Theo rushes toward me and grabs the picture, tucking it back between the pages. “Nothing to that, Sprouter. Just some notes.” He’s counting that I didn’t have time to study it. I decide to leave it be.

We scurry uphill to the door. The wind picks up and dust devils scour the landscape. Theo studies the structure and smiles broadly. “The book talks about a puzzle board like this one. It has an answer for solving it, I think. Here, hold the book.” He concentrates on the pages and begins pushing each square as per the book’s instructions. He finishes and nothing happens.

“Perhaps we wait,” I say. Theo looks annoyed and punches the boxes again. I then notice another button below the three rows of three. “What happens if we push this?” I step forward, press it, and a red light appears above the box. “Well, something just happened.”

A strange whirring sound like nothing I’ve heard before emanates from deep inside the hillside. The light begins pulsing and then forms a strange beam that zags across us. We both duck and step back, but the red strips seem to follow us. “Theo, should we be concerned?”

“Dunno Sprouter. It’s just light. Can’t see how that’d hurt us.”

“Don’t you remember Teacher’s stories about how the ancient ones used light to kill their enemies?”

“Do you really believe those stories?” He thinks for a moment. “Let’s maybe step back then.”