James Scotson - Planets Falling

“Thanks Sam,” Theo says. “I’m headed to the roof to get a full view of the grounds. Those were definitely not live people. You should have seen ’em when they were hit. They shattered into chunks.”

“I’ll relieve you in an hour,” Bets says, checking the charge strength of her rifle.

We spread out, covering the windows at each corner of the building, weapons ready. Hours pass with no sign of more shuffling, frozen people. The warmth of the lodge and the hum of the air through the vents make me groggy. Theo appears from his post. “We should start taking breaks, so we all get some rest. Amy, you’re first to hit the sack.”

I protest, but not too convincingly. My lack of sleep from the previous night has taken its toll. I crawl into my sack and drift off. I awake in an encampment in the snow. I’m back in Thresh and staring at a group of grubs. Strangely, their legs aren’t sunken in the drifts. Rather, the beasts lumber weightlessly above the white crust. Even in the cold, the smell of decay’s overwhelming. In the distance, beyond the firelight, I hear the murmur of dead voices. I cannot begin to count the number of mouths making those unearthly sounds.

Thresh is very happy. She’s singing some sort of lullaby about fairies in the woods. Spread before her on a large table is an odd map with curving lines on it. A spot on the map’s circled with ink. I’m assuming that it marks our location. From her elation, I infer the camp’s not far away from the lodge.

“Come over here.” Thresh motions to a pale, muscular man in an enormous fur coat. He saunters over. She smiles and purrs, “We’re very close darling. Three of my friends told me that they’re holed up in an old dwelling about a day’s journey from here. It’s a shame that those awful people had to kill them.”

He kneads her shoulders, which feels really good. “Thresh, my sweet, I love you. But do you have to refer to those dead things as if they’re alive?”

“I’m sorry, Jonah. It’s hard for me to explain. But they really do feel like my children. I can see through their eyes and almost imagine their pain. I’ve always wanted a family. Next to you—”

“I’m so sorry to upset you. I understand how lonely you were. But you have me now. And Eliza. We won’t leave you.”

Thresh turns and kisses him. “I’m so lucky to have found you in that town. We really have become a family.”

He laughs. “Those villagers were so gullible, weren’t they? They thought you were going to save them from the beasts. Instead, you showed them the truth of the dark. If it weren’t for you, I’d have rotted in their prison. And for what? All I tried to do was to preach to them — show them the truth.”

She hugs him tightly.

He whispers. “You are the chosen one.”

I desperately want to gain control over Thresh again and kill her and this awful man Jonah before I lose my grip. However, an invisible boundary leaves me a helpless spectator.

She rises and heads for the same tent she used when I was her captive. Magarat stands at the opening in the same blue dress. “Ma’m, she’s sleeping soundly.”

Thresh coos. “How long?”

“It was about an hour or so.”

“Oh, I so wanted to tuck her in. We’ll be leaving in the morning. You keep her here safe at camp. We’ll be gone for about two days and then we can travel to our permanent home in the mountains by the blessed waters. We’ll find such joy there.”

Curiosity flashes across Magarat’s face. But she clearly knows not to ask questions. Thresh sets down her scabbard and sword on the table and shuffles quietly to Eliza’s cot. My baby’s curled up with a blanket clutched in her hands by her face. Her chest slowly rises and falls as she sleeps soundly. My heart strains to control Thresh, force her out into the bonfire in the center of camp. Instead, I feel the soft threads of my daughter’s hair through Thresh’s fingers. I yearn to gaze at Eliza longer, but Thresh rises and leaves without taking notice of Magarat.

Thresh walks to another tent. A small oil lamp flickers inside. The sweetly sick smell of decomposition’s overwhelming. A blowfly passes Thresh’s face, which she brushes away. I wonder how a fly can live this time of year and then I see a rotting, matted hulk on the floor. Thresh raises her left hand and the body struggles to rise. It was a woman, perhaps in her late twenties. Thresh grins. “Hello sister.” The body writhes as if in pain. “Didn’t think that your little sister would find you? Well here I am. You left me to those people. Now I’m going to keep you as my pet. You can watch as I consume everything.”

To my horror, the corpse whispers hoarsely, “No.”

Thresh seems to have harnessed a way to not only animate the body of her victims but their minds as well. She continues. “Step daddy did things to me. You let him. You liked him, didn’t you? You could’ve taken me with you but you were selfish. You bitch.”

The corpse sister’s hands reach for her bloated face and begin scratching.

“That’s right sweetheart, give yourself a good grooming.”

The poor dead woman emits something that sounds like a heartfelt sob.

My fear and anger build and I feel the same way I did when I created the flash that pushed Thresh away. I leave Thresh and enter something very strange. The world seems incredibly large and chaotic. My vision’s sharp but impossible to comprehend, the space around me divided into tiny slivers of vivid, colorful light. I realize that I’ve entered the damned fly. I dart around the room intoxicated by the ripe smell of Thresh’s sister. I want to revel in it.

My time in the fly’s mercifully short as I’m tugged back to the lodge. Bets is shaking me awake. My shift’s begun. “Amy, you look like shit. I take it you’ve been traveling again?”

I grab her wrist with my sweat-slicked hand. “Bets, we have about a day and then hell will be unleashed on us.”

Thresh will be here soon and we’re all exhausted and tense. We’ve taken to practicing our aim on the circus of dead animals circling the lodge. Gorian seems to enjoy the game the most, with a fondness for exploding raccoons. Theo aims for the possum’s tails. Like the human corpses, most of the animals are nearly frozen and rip apart easily. None of us talk about it, but the thought of the grub’s immunity to our weapons fire makes us wonder whether we’re wasting our time. Gorian assures us that the modern weapons at our disposal are far more lethal than the antiques we lifted from Troll. I wonder then, why our companions at the Fuerst had to flee Thresh so quickly and end up submerged in the brine.

Sam announces that a large number of cold, human-shaped targets are approaching the east side of the building. I peer out the window at the bodies. Most are naked but in remarkably good condition. We fire rapidly, covering the snow in a thick brown mist of body parts and inanimate fog. The bodies keep coming like a stream of ants. As the day wears on, the corpses begin spreading out, as if they are testing our defenses for weaknesses. At dusk in the lodge’s artificial light, the onslaught ends.

We stand in our windows waiting for the inevitable. A human shape appears beyond the lodge lights. Bets takes aim. Theo says, “No, wait.”

To my dismay and disgust, I recognize the figure as Thresh’s half-dead sister as it ambles toward the front stoop of the lodge. It croaks, “Amy Marksman.”

Looks of concern and confusion focus on me. I even sense it on the alien Iggy’s face. “She’s a messenger,” I say quietly.

I crack open the door and peek out. “What are your terms?”

“Join us.”

“What happens to my companions?”